#aaron judge x reader

[judgeyswife]

Breaking the Tension

Aaron Judge x Fem!Reader

summary: after a tough loss, your husband needs some cheering up

warning(s): SMUT !

notes: this man is so underrated it hurts

—

It was a cold night in the city of New York when the door to the penthouse suite of Aaron Judge's home opened and then promptly slammed shut. The sound of a lock clicking echoed throughout the spacious living area, followed by the unmistakable thud of a duffle bag falling to the ground.

To say Aaron was pissed would be the understatement of the century. He had just come home from an absolutely abysmal game against the Baltimore Orioles, in which he had struck out 4 times and dropped a ball that a 2nd grader would've caught. The frustration of it all was eating him alive and he needed a release.

He kicked off his sneakers and threw his hat on the floor, running his hands through his sweat-soaked hair. He was so lost in thought that he didn't even notice you walking towards him until you began to speak.

"Aaron-"

"What?" he snapped, his tone harsh and biting.

You were taken aback by his response, as he had never spoken to you like that before. He'd had bad games before, but he always managed to brush it off and move on. But for whatever reason, tonight had gotten under his skin and he was letting it fester.

"I- I just wanted to see if you were okay..."

You walked closer to him and reached out to touch his arm, but he pulled away.

"Don't. Just don't," he said, his voice full of anger. "I'm not in the mood for your fucking pity, alright?"

He moved past you, his shoulder roughly bumping yours, and made his way to the bedroom. You stood there for a moment, stunned at what had just happened. You could tell he was upset, but you'd never seen him act this way before.

You were pulled from your thoughts by the sound of a door slamming shut. You took a deep breath before kneeling down to pick up his hat and place it on the coat rack. His shoes were placed neatly beside the door before you grabbed his duffle bag and slowly began making your way to the bedroom.

The door was slightly ajar, allowing a thin beam of light to pour out into the hallway. You stood there for a moment, unsure if you should go inside or not.

Finally, you decided to enter. You opened the door slowly and peeked inside, seeing Aaron standing in front of the mirror. His back was to you, his body tense as he gripped the edge of the dresser.

You entered the room and gently placed the duffle bag by the bed. Aaron's eyes locked with yours in the mirror, the anger and frustration still evident in his gaze. He turned around, crossing his arms over his chest.

You took a tentative step forward, reaching out to place a comforting hand on his arm, and this time he let you. You could feel the tension in his muscles, his body practically vibrating with emotion.

"I'm sorry about before," he muttered, his eyes darting to the floor, "I shouldn't have snapped at you like that."

You shook your head, giving him a soft smile, "It's okay, I understand."

You wrapped your arms around his waist, pulling him into a tight embrace. His arms enveloped you, his chin resting on top of your head.

"Do you want to talk about it?" you asked, your voice muffled by his shirt.

"No, not right now."

You nod, rubbing small circles into his back. You could feel some of the tension leaving his body as he relaxed into your touch. You could feel his heartbeat against your cheek, a steady and reassuring rhythm.

You stay like that for a while, neither of you saying anything, just basking in each other's presence. Eventually, you stood up on your tip toes and pressed a kiss to his jawline. He shivered slightly, his arms tightening around you.

You continued kissing him, moving from his jaw to his neck and collarbone. You could feel his breathing quicken as you reached the sensitive skin beneath his ear. You nibbled on his earlobe, earning a low groan from him.

"Anything I can do to help?" you asked, your lips ghosting across his skin.

He pulled away slightly, looking down at you with lust-filled eyes. "You could start by taking off your clothes," he said, his voice raspy with desire.

You hummed, a smirk forming on your lips. Without a word, you grabbed a fistful of his shirt and pulled him in for a hungry kiss. He responded instantly, his hands coming up to cup your face.

Somehow, you managed to steer him towards the bed without breaking the kiss. You pushed him down onto the mattress but didn’t climb on top of him just yet. Instead, your fingers found the buttons of your black pajama top and slowly undid them, revealing more and more skin with each one.

Aaron watched with rapt attention, his gaze following every movement of your fingers. When the last button is undone, you shrug the shirt off your shoulders, letting it fall to the floor.

His eyes roamed over your body, his pupils dilating as he took in the sight of your shorts being thrown onto the floor. You reach behind your back and unclasp your bra, letting it fall to the floor. You ran a hand down the curve of your hip, dipping below the waistband of your panties, and he swallowed thickly.

"Come here," he growled, reaching out to pull you on top of him.

Your lips crashed together in a frenzied kiss, his hands roaming all over your bare skin. His tongue invaded your mouth, tasting you, savoring you. You ground against him, feeling his hardness press against you through the fabric of his pants.

He breaks the kiss and nips at your neck, his hands squeezing your ass, "You're so fucking beautiful," he says, his breath hot against your skin.

You gasped as his fingers slipped into your panties, teasing you, "Oh god," you moaned, grinding down on his hand.

He pulled his hand away and smacked your ass, the sound echoing through the room. You yelped, your hips bucking involuntarily. He repeated the action, eliciting another moan from you.

"You like that, huh?" he whispered, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear.

You nodded, unable to form words as your hands slipped beneath his shirt and rake your nails down his chest. He groaned, the sensation sending a shiver down his spine. Your fingers found the hem of his shirt and you raised your hips to tug it over his head and throw it aside.

You admired his sculpted torso, running your hands over the planes of his chest and abdomen. You lean down and place a trail of kisses along his jawline and down his neck. Aaron shuddered, his hands tangling in your hair as you continued down his body.

Your hands found his belt and slowly undo it, the buckle clinking as it fell open. You tugged at his jeans, pulling them down his thighs, and he helped kick them off. A smirk forms on your lips when you notice him straining against the fabric of his boxers.

"Looks like someone's excited," you teased, palming him through the fabric.

Aaron groaned, his hips jerking forward, "Don't be a tease," he warned, his voice laced with desperation.

You give him a coy smile before tugging his boxers down, your hand wrapping around him. You pump him slowly, twisting your wrist as you reach the base. He lets out a hiss, his hands gripping the sheets tightly.

"Fuck," he breathed, his head falling back against the pillow.

You continue stroking him, your pace steady and torturously slow.

"You're killing me here," he muttered, his eyes squeezed shut.

You chuckled, giving him one last stroke before releasing him. He looked at you, a mixture of annoyance and lust written all over his face. You reached down and hooked your thumbs into the waistband of your panties, slowly sliding them down.

Aaron's breath hitches as he watches you remove the last shred of clothing, exposing yourself fully to him. His gaze raked over your naked body, drinking in the sight of you. Your hands slid up his thighs and grip his hips, lifting yourself and positioning him at your entrance.

You sank down onto him slowly, hissing as he stretched you. His hands found your waist, guiding you down until he was buried to the hilt. You let out a shaky breath and he moaned, his fingers digging into your skin.

You begin rocking against him, your hands braced on his chest. His hips buck upwards, meeting your every thrust. You gasp, feeling him hit that spot inside you that makes your toes curl.

"Shit, baby, just like that," he moaned, his voice low and husky.

You increase the pace, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the air. You felt his fingers dig into your thighs, his grip almost bruising. He grunted with every thrust, his muscles flexing beneath you.

"Aaron, oh god," you whimpered when one of his hands came down to rub tight circles on your clit.

He continued his assault, his thumb moving furiously against the sensitive bundle of nerves as his hips slammed into yours. You can feel the familiar coil of heat building inside you, your orgasm looming just beyond reach.

"Aaron, fuck, I'm close," you gasped, your movements becoming erratic.

Aaron nodded, his teeth gritted, "Me too, baby."

He thrusts into you harder, his movements frantic and desperate. You cry out, your nails dragging angry red lines down his chest as you teeter on the edge of release.

"Oh god, oh god," you chanted, the heat building inside you threatening to boil over.

With a final thrust, you fell over the edge, a loud moan escaping your lips. You came hard, your walls clenching around him, drawing out his own orgasm. He groaned, his body shuddering as he spilled inside you.

You collapsed onto his chest, both of you panting heavily as you came down from your highs. Aaron wrapped his arms around you, holding you close. You buried your face in his neck, inhaling his scent.

"Feeling better?" you asked, your voice barely a whisper as you lifted your head to look at him.

He hummed, his eyes drifting shut, "Much better," he said, planting a kiss on your temple, "Thank you."

You smiled, resting your head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat, "Anytime."

The two of you lay there for a while, content to bask in each other's presence. Eventually, your exhaustion got the better of you and you drifted off to sleep, safe and secure in Aaron's arms.

[burkhxrts]

'SWEET CAROLINA' | A. Judge

"if you're ever stressed out, just dance in the night if you get those baby blues." -lana del rey

summary: comforting your husband after a rough game was one thing. comforting him after his first career ejection? that's a whole other whirlwind.

warning(s): none, but now I want a baby.

To say that Aaron was pissed, was the biggest understatement of the year. To get his first career ejection when they were up 5-3, in the seventh inning, was just plain stupid. Ryan Blakney was an asshole, and a very horrible eye behind the plate. 

Aaron was paced back and forth in the locker room, unable to stop grumbling to himself.  The whole experience was still replaying in his head, and he couldn't help but feel a little shaken. But then, his phone rang, interrupting his thoughts.

He picked up the phone with a sigh, tiredly rubbing a hand over his face. “Hello?” 

“You got ejected?” You blurt, pacing the living room, cradling your baby girl in your arms safely.

Aaron’s shoulders slump at the sound of your voice, leaning against one of the lockers. 

"Yeah." He says, his voice weary. He can practically sense your reaction to his admission—the disbelief, the worry.

“God, what did you even say?” You mutter, voice coated in disbelief. This was Aaron Judge for god’s sake. The man was practically Snuffleupagus in human form.

"I didn't even say anything!" Aaron scoffs. "I got in his face for a second and got tossed from the game." He shakes his head, still in disbelief that he was booted from the field so abruptly.

You sigh, shaking your head as you continue to pace around the living room. “That’s bullshit.” You murmur, fixing your gaze to your daughter.

Aaron lets out a low, frustrated exhale. "Tell me about it." He grumbles through the phone. "It's the most ridiculous call I've ever seen."

You let out a weary sigh, the weight of the moment pressing heavily on your chest. Shaking your head, you glance down at Lyra, her small frame curled tightly into itself. In her sleep, she stirs uneasily, her body trembling as though caught in the grip of some distant dream. Soft, plaintive whines escape her parted lips, the sound fragile and haunting. 

Aaron hears the faint sounds of your sleepy daughter and the soft shuffle of your footsteps. A small sigh escapes his lips. "What's she fussin' about?" he mutters, his voice tinged with worry.

“Guess she thinks it’s bullshit too.” You joke softly, rocking the three month old gently.

Aaron grunts a laugh. "Sounds like her." He mutters. He hesitates, then says, his voice more serious, "You okay, babe? You're not...upset about me getting ejected, are you?"

You shake your head quickly, wanting to get the point across even though he can’t see you. “Absolutely not.” You mumble, rocking the now sleeping Lyra. “I was watching the whole thing, the guy had a bad zone the whole game. Still does apparently.”

Aaron lets out a low snort of laughter. "So you were watching the game." he mutters into the receiver. "Did you watch the part where I gave him a piece of my mind?"

“Yeah.” You sigh, moving towards the couch. You start to move Lyra’s everyday necessities, diapers, wipes, etc. “Is it bad I thought you looked really hot?” You grimace, cradling Lyra to your chest.

Aaron's eyebrows shoot up, a hint of surprise in his gravelly voice. "You... thought I was hot?" he asks, his tone tinged with genuine surprise. He leans against the wall, a smirk playing at his lips. "Just watching me getting ejected?"

“You never get angry!” You defend, shuffling into the cushions. “You’re like…big bird. You just hit home runs.”

Aaron can’t help but reel his head back slightly, a confused look on his face. "Big bird?" he scoffs, a hint of amused disbelief in his voice. He can't help but let out a snort of laughter. "Is that really the best description you have for me?"

“We’ve been watching a lot of Sesame Street, okay? It’s the first thing that popped up.”

"Of course it is." he teases, a warm smile on his face. "You're lucky, you know. Most guys don't have their wives watch them strike out and get ejected...and think they look kind of hot for it."

“You're not most guys.” You hum, tilting your head. Lyra wiggles slightly, a sleepy grin stretched across her face. 

"And you're not like most wives," he chuckles, his voice a low rumble. He can picture your expression perfectly, the slight tilt of your head, the way your hair frames your face. It's a comforting image in his mind.

Aaron lets out a soft sigh, his thoughts drifting to you and the little family you've built. He doesn't want to think about the game anymore—the ejection, the umpire, the way he'd been humiliated in front of the crowd. Right now, the only thing that matters is hearing your voice, seeing your smile.

"I wish you were here," he mutters quietly.

“Me too.” You whisper, pressing a soft kiss to Lyra’s cheek. “Come home soon, okay? Don’t worry about all the stupid interviews and stuff.”

"You know I'll do them all." Aaron sighs, a slight edge of annoyance in his voice. He'll do the media appearances if they ask—he knows it's part of the job, but he can't help but wish he could just come home and relax instead. "You sure you're gonna be okay on your own?"

“I’ll be fine. I have my sleepy girl with me.”

Aaron chuckles, the sound low and warm. "You just keep telling yourself that." he teases, his voice laced with a mixture of fondness and worry. "Promise me you won't watch highlights of that damn ejection."

You smile to yourself, eyes focused on the game that continues in the background, it seems less interesting now that Aaron’s not playing. “I can’t promise anything.” You tease, smiling lightly.

"I hate you," Aaron mutters, his tone dry but fond. Even through the phone, he can picture the smirk on your face. He knows you're teasing him, and he loves it.

“You looked good, what can I say? I’m sure half of Twitter agrees with me.”

Aaron can't help but laugh, shaking his head in disbelief. "Half of Twitter, huh?" he mutters, a hint of amusement in his voice. "You better hope you aren't getting death threats from my fangirls."

“Your fangirls are nice. They think just like me.” You sigh wistfully, flicking your eyes towards the ceiling. It’s true, every fangirl, no matter what age, seems to share one thought with you; your husband’s hot. 

Aaron grunts a laugh, leaning against the wall. "Oh, really now?" he muses, a hint of dry humor in his voice. "And what exactly do you and my fangirls think, then?"

“That you look hot when you’re pissed off.”

"Damn." Aaron mutters, a low, gravelly chuckle escaping his lips. "Is that all?" He pauses for a moment, then teases, "What else are you and the fangirls talking about?"

“Don’t worry your pretty little head about it.” You reassure, running a hand soothingly across Lyra’s back. She doesn’t move, only sighing softly into your chest. 

Aaron huffs out a laugh. "Hey now, you know I love my pretty little head." he mutters playfully. He can practically picture your expression, the slight smile that lights up your face, the way you brush back his hair, run your fingers through the dark curls. It makes his heart ache.

“I love your pretty little head too.” You murmur.

"Damn right." Aaron grins, a hint of cockiness in his tone. He leans his head back against the wall, sighing softly. There's a pause, and then he mutters quietly, "I miss you."

“I miss you too.” Your voice is soft, and you clutch Lyra tighter against your chest.

Aaron's heart clenches, the simple words making his chest feel tight with longing. "How's Lyra doing?" he murmurs, a hint of worry in his voice. He knows you're a natural at the parenting thing, but he still can't help worrying about you both, all alone at home.

“Sleeping the day away as always. Could’ve sworn she was paying attention to some of the game.”

"That's my girl." Aaron muses, a small hint of pride in his voice. He can picture her little head nestled against your chest, fast asleep, the soft rise and fall of her breathing. Despite it all, he manages a faint smile. "What about you, how are you holding up?"

“I’m doing okay.” You mumble, closing your eyes sleepily.

"Good," He responds, a hint of relief in his voice. He can hear the tiredness in your voice, the way it slurs together just a little. He knows you're exhausted. Even though he feels his own exhaustion weighing on him after the game, he still wants to stay on the phone and talk to you for a little longer. Anything that keeps you both in each other's orbit. "You should rest, too."

“I’ll rest once you come home. I just…I need to see you.”

"I know," Aaron mutters, his voice quiet and earnest. He loves being able to come home to both of you, to walk in the door and know that you're both waiting for him. "Just...try and get some sleep." He pauses, then hesitates before adding, "And I love you. You know that, right?"

“I love you too, Bean.” You whisper. You can’t help the nickname that slips from your lips, and it makes you smile softly. 

"You're a dork." He mutters in response, but there's no malice behind the words. Only affection, and a hint of amusement. He remembers the first time he saw that damn nickname, the way he'd rolled his eyes, how you never once relented with using it. "I hate that nickname." he huffs.

“Really?” You press a soft kiss to Lyra’s cheek. “I love it.”

"You're impossible." Aaron mutters fondly. He can practically hear the sound of you kissing Lyra's cheek, the soft sigh you let out afterwards. It makes his heart ache with longing. "I can't win with you, can I?"

“Nope.”

"Unbelievable." He scoffs, a hint of amused frustration in his voice. "Remind me why I married you again?"

“I was the only one who put up with your crazy ass schedule.” You teased, shuffling slightly when you heard Lyra whine in her sleep.

"Oh yeah, that's right." Aaron mutters, a slight huff of breath escaping his lips. Being a professional athlete took up a lot of his time, and it definitely tested his patience and stamina. But even he has to admit you were the one person who always stayed by his side, and for that, he was incredibly grateful. "You're still a dork" he teases back.

“Oh, I know.” Lyra wriggles even more now, her whines forming into soft cries.

Aaron can hear Lyra's whiny cries over the phone, the sound tugging at his heartstrings. "Is she awake?" he asks, his voice tinged with worry. He's not sure he's quite ready to end the conversation just yet, but the thought of his daughter being upset makes him want to be by your side immediately.

“Think she’s just hungry.” You mutter, patting her back softly. “What’s wrong? Hmm?” Lyra whimpers, gazing up at you and pouting her lips softly.

His heart clenches, the image of Lyra pouting her lips at you while holding up her little arms, demanding to be fed tugging at something deep in his soul. He can't help but think how perfect you are as a mother. "Is she gonna want me when I get home?" he asks quietly, a little hint of insecurity in his voice.

“More than likely.” You murmur, pulling the phone away and pressing the speaker button. You set it down beside you, shifting Lyra in your arms and starting to pull down your shirt. “Is that right, bug? You miss daddy?”

Aaron can't see everything that's going on from his point of view, but even so, the thought of you starting to feed Lyra makes his heart ache. There's something about that moment, the way you cradle her in your arms, the way she latches onto your breast and sucks instinctively...it's one of those moments that make him love you even more. 

He swallows hard, his voice thick with a mixture of emotions. "Is she drinking?" he asks, a hint of longing in his voice.

“Yup.” You murmur, admiring your daughter lovingly as she lets out small grunts, hand grabbing your chest gently.

He can't help but picture the scene, you holding Lyra, feeding her, cradling her against your chest. He loves that image, it makes his chest feel warm with affection. "When I get home," he murmurs, his voice a soft whisper. "Can you promise me something?"

“Yeah?”

"Promise you won't fall asleep before I get home?" He mutters quietly, a hint of earnestness in his voice. The last thing he wants is to get home only to find you asleep, tired and exhausted. He wants to be the one taking care of you, not the other way around. "I want to kiss you, hold you. I want to feel your body against mine. So, promise me, okay?"

“I promise.” You whisper, flickering your gaze over Lyra’s small face.

"You better keep that promise." He mutters in reply, a hint of gruffness in his voice. He lets out a soft sigh, his mind wandering to the thought of coming home to you, the feel of your body against his own. "I swear, if I get home and you're asleep, I'll be pissed."

“Hurry home, dork.”

"I'm getting there, dork." Aaron mutters in response, a soft snort of laughter escaping his lips. He knows he should be annoyed at the pet name, but at this point, it's just become a part of who you are. And besides, the way you say it never fails to make his heart flutter. "Just you wait. I'll be home within the hour."

“Okay.” You murmur, brushing your thumb against the soft skin of Lyra’s cheek.

Aaron can practically feel the gentle caress of your hand, the way you brush your thumb against Lyra's soft skin. And damn, how he wishes it was his skin you were caressing. He swallows hard, fighting the urge to lean against the wall and think of nothing but the image of your fingers tracing invisible designs over his back, your body pressed against his. "I miss you." He mutters.

“I miss you, too.”

You can hear him sucking in a sharp breath, the sound heavy, almost ragged in his throat. He's fighting, and failing miserably, to keep his emotions in check. He wants -needs- to feel your body against his own, the heat of your skin. "I need to kiss you," he mutters, his voice low and laced with need. "I need to hold you, touch you. I need you."

“Come home.” Your voice is nothing but a whisper, and you clutch Lyra tighter against you

"Yes, Ma'am." Aaron's tone is low and gruff, as he straightens up from the wall. He has two more things to do before calling it a night - he's gotta shower and make sure he's got everything ready to head home to you - but he's not going to let any work come between him and you and Lyra tonight.

 "I'm on my way."

————

Aaron finally trudged his way to the front door, unlocking it and slipping inside. He quickly strips off his jacket and hat, tossing them onto a nearby couch. His body feels heavy as all hell, the exhaustion he usually tried to fight finally catching up with him. For a moment, he lets himself just linger, letting everything sink in. He can hear sounds of you and Lyra in the next room and it's then, he steps further inside. “I'm home," he calls out, his voice gruff and rough.

“In the living room.”

He sighs, feeling the tension in his body ease a little at your words. His boots thump against the hardwood floor, each step feeling heavier than the last. He pads his way through the living room into the spacious common area, and that's when his eyes lock onto you. 

You're both sitting there on the couch, you with an arm around Lyra, the baby's tiny head resting against your chest. The sight alone makes his heart ache. "You still awake?" Aaron rasps quietly, stepping further into the room.

“I kept my promise.” You murmur, smiling at him sleepily.

Aaron's eyes flick from you to the small form of Lyra nestled against your chest, and then back to you. His heart clenches as he sees how tired you are, the weight of holding their daughter all night must've drained you. 

He steps over to the couch, taking a seat right next to you. It's a tight fit with the little baby still in your arms, but he doesn't seem to mind. In fact, he wants to be as close as possible to you right now.

You gaze at him lovingly, still cradling Lyra in your arms. As cute as she is, it’s unfortunate that she's awake this late.

Aaron's gaze remains fixated on you and Lyra, the sight of the two of you causing an odd sort of warmth to bloom in his chest. Even after all this time, he still can't help but be amazed at the idea that you were once the woman he fell in love with and the mother of their daughter.

He reaches out, his hand brushing against your shoulder gently, before resting it on Lyra's back softly. "Did she keep you up all this time?"

“She woke up fully an hour ago.” You mumble, lifting her up and sitting her on your stomach.

"An hour?" Aaron mutters, his voice thick with disbelief. He leans back against the couch, the familiar sense of fatigue washing over him now that he's no longer standing.  "You sure did keep your promise, didn't you?" He teases quietly, the corner of his mouth quirking up into a smirk.

“I don’t like breaking them.” You tug Lyra close to you, brushing your lips against her cheek softly.

Aaron huffs a small sigh of amusement as he sees you lean down, pressing soft kisses against Lyra's cheek. There's a warmth in his eyes as he watches you with a daughter, something deep and primal inside of him aching to be a part of that as well. 

He remains quiet for a moment, his hand idly resting on the couch next to you, before he finally speaks up again. "Is she still hungry?" he asks lowly, his voice softer.

“I dunno.” You hum, pulling her back so she can look at the two of you. “Are you hungry again, bug? Or are you just up to spite Mommy?”

Aaron raises an eyebrow, watching the interaction closely. He's always found it endearing how you talk to Lyra, the way you treat her like a little person, the way you gently tease. 

He leans closer now, his face just inches from you and Lyra. "I think she's just hungry to spite you." he murmurs, the corner of his mouth turning up into a small smirk.

You hum, raising your brow at the baby. “Yeah? Is Daddy right? My hungry girl.”

Aaron stifles a small chuckle, watching the interaction now intently. He likes this, seeing you and Lyra together, seeing the bond that forms. It's cute, heartwarming, and a little bit sexy. 

He leans his head against your shoulder lazily, pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder now. "Looks like I'm right, huh?" he murmurs, his voice gruff.

“Y’know, I may be biased.” You start, pulling Lyra closer to the two of you. “But I think we made the cutest baby ever.”

Aaron laughs softly, his breath warm against your neck. "We did, yeah." He agrees, his hand moving slowly to rest on Lyra's back. 

He shifts his attention from Lyra and turns his gaze toward you instead, his eyes lingering a little longer on your face. "We definitely did." he repeats with a soft smirk, his thumb idly tracing circles against your shoulder.

You pull your gaze away from your daughter, making eye contact with Aaron. “I missed you today.”

Aaron's eyes soften slightly, a warm and tender expression forming on his face as he looks at you. It's such a simple phrase, but somehow it makes him feel all warm inside. He swallows thickly, his hand still tracing lazy circles against your shoulder. 

"I missed you too," he murmurs in reply, his voice gruff yet soft. "So much."

You hum, leaning forward to press your lips against his gently.

Aaron tilts his head a small fraction, leaning into the kiss and letting his eyes flutter shut. He lets out a soft sigh, his hand shifting to rest against the side of your face. God, he needed this so bad. 

He holds the kiss for a few long moments, enjoying the simple intimacy. When he finally pulls back - though reluctantly - he stares at you with a slight edge of desire in his gaze.

You pull away, giving him one more soft kiss. As you move to say something, Lyra’s babbles interrupt you.

Aaron lets out a soft grunt of annoyance as the sound of Lyra's babbling cut through your moment, though it's all a bit tongue in cheek. He can't even pretend to be mad, especially at the tiny baby in your arms. 

He leans back onto the couch now, shaking his head in amusement. "Damn kid has terrible timing..." he mutters.

You laugh softly, shifting so you’re pressed against one of Aaron’s shoulders. You lift her up, swaying her gently. “What do you want, huh? What’re you saying, my beautiful bug?”

Aaron lets his head rest against your shoulder, his gaze fixed on Lyra now. There's an endearment in the way you call her "my beautiful bug", watching her little babbles with an affectionate smile tugged at the corners of his lips. 

He moves his gaze to you again, his expression soft now. "She's being a little demanding, isn't she?" he mutters, a hint of warmth in his voice.

“Kinda like you, in a way.”

He huffs softly, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "You're not wrong, there." 

He's about to say something else when he's interrupted by Lyra's baby babbles, the soft sound drawing his attention back to the baby in your arms.

You watch as she stretches out her arms, gaze fixated on Aaron. “What’s up, bug? You want Daddy?”

Aaron's expression softens as he sees Lyra reaching her arms out toward him. He lets out a soft sigh, his heart already weak at your words. He can't say no to either of you.

He moves closer now, reaching out for Lyra gently. "Hey, bug." he murmurs, shifting her into his arms carefully.

Aaron holds her, settling her on his lap. He supports her with one arm, running the other over her hair, stroking her cheek. 

He glances up now, raising an eyebrow at you. "You're not jealous already, are you?" he teases lightly, a hint of a smirk on his face. 

“Quite the opposite, actually.” You murmur, watching the two of them and smiling softly.

Aaron lets out a soft hum, an amused smile tugging at his lips as he stares down at Lyra. He adjusts her position slightly on his lap, his hand now resting against her back. 

"Oh really?" he muses quietly, his voice low and soft. "You sure you're not even the least bit jealous? I mean, she's getting all my attention over here."

You shake your head softly. “You look good with her. It looks…right.”

Aaron lets out a soft breath, a warm feeling settling in the pit of his stomach. It's not often that you say things like this, and he adores the rare times you do. 

He glances at you one more time, his gaze softening even further. "Yeah? I'm good, huh?" he mutters almost to himself. He keeps one arm holding Lyra, but reaches out with the other and rests it on your thigh.

You hum, shuffling further into the cushions, running a finger over Lyra’s soft belly.

Aaron watches intently as you reach out and stroke Lyra's soft belly, his gaze tracing the gentle movement of your fingers as they caress her skin. He's watching you both with a soft expression, a hint of tenderness in his eyes. 

He shifts a small bit on the couch, his hand resting still on your thigh, his fingers occasionally rubbing against your skin in small, mindless motions.

“Y’know, I thought I was gonna be a horrible mom?” You murmur, keeping your gaze on your daughter as your trace soft circles on her tummy, smiling softly when she babbles.

Aaron's expression softens considerably as you speak, shifting a small bit on the couch again. He gazes down at Lyra, watching her small babbles and soft smiles with a hint of fondness. 

He glances up at you as you continue, raising an eyebrow. "Really? What made you think you would be terrible?" he mutters, genuine curiosity in his voice.

“Thought I would be like my own mom.” You whisper quietly, eyes locked in on Lyra. “Some…spineless person who let her husband walk all over her daughter. Let him ridicule her for every little thing she did. 

But then, when I looked at her for the first time, it all went away. I had no doubt in my mind that I would be a great mother.”

Aaron listens intently, his expression changing as he absorbs your words. He's silent for a moment, a wave of emotions swirling through him as he imagines what it must've been like watching your own mother act in such a way. 

He moves his hand up from your thigh, shifting it now to rest on your cheek. His thumb softly brushes over your skin as he speaks. "You are a great mother," he mutters, his voice soft and sincere. "A fantastic mother."

“You’re a great father.” You counter back, turning your head to face him.

Aaron's heart nearly skips a beat at your words, a warm feeling of affection flooding through him like an avalanche. He swallows thickly, trying to fight back the emotions that threaten to overcome him. 

He stares into your eyes, letting his gaze hold yours intently. He can't recall the last time someone had said something like that to him, and it leaves him feeling all soft and mushy inside. 

"You think so?" he murmurs, voice quiet.

“Yeah.”

Aaron can't help but smile softly at your simple response. His gaze remains locked with yours, a mixture of warmth and affection evident in his eyes. 

He lets his hand rest on your face for a moment longer, his thumb still tracing against your skin. Then, almost imperceptibly, he leans in, his face just inches away from yours. 

"I love you," he whispers, his voice soft and sincere. "So damn much."

You smile, leaning in and brushing your lips against his. “I love you too.”

Aaron closes his eyes as you lean in, savoring the feeling of your lips against his. It's just a soft, brief press of your mouths together, but it sends a wave of warmth through his body. 

He lets out a small sigh as he pulls back, his gaze lingering on your face. "We should do this more often," he murmurs quietly, his voice still thick with emotion.

“What? Be sappy?” Your voice is light, your thumb still brushing Lyra’s tummy soothingly.

"Mmhmm" Aaron confirms, his own smile mirroring your light tone. He leans back against the couch cushions, his hand now resting on your knee instead. 

"Yeah, that," he teases, a hint of playfulness in his voice. "Cuddles, kisses. All of it, really." He lets his hand run lazily across your thigh, not moving any higher just yet.

You’re silent for a moment, flicking your gaze over Lyra’s face. “I um…I know we’ve been…busy.”

Aaron frowns slightly at your words, letting his gaze also linger on Lyra for a moment before shifting it back to you. He feels a pang of guilt, knowing he's been distant recently after everything. 

He lets his hand still for a few moments, his fingers now tracing small circles against your skin. "Yeah?" he mutters, his voice quiet. "I've been a bit…absent recently, haven't I?"

“It’s not just you.” You reassure, focusing on Lyra’s small babbles and grunts. “I’ve been busy with this little bug, you’ve been busy games and stuff. We’ve never really…gotten a moment to ourselves.”

Aaron hums softly, letting your words sink in. He's aware he's been somewhat neglectful lately, and the fact that you've been preoccupied as well makes him feel a bit better. 

"Guess we haven't," he murmurs, a hint of regret in his voice. He lets his hand slide further up your thigh, his fingers now gently rubbing against your skin. "We should change that."

He lets out a small sigh, shifting again on the couch so he's facing you a little more. His hand remains on your thigh, his fingers rubbing small circles against your skin. "Can we make it happen now?" he mutters, his voice a bit huskier now.

You sigh, giving him an apologetic smile. “As much as I would love to. We can’t do anything with this little heathen awake.”

Aaron groans in disappointment at your words, but he knows you're right. That baby's always got terrible timing. 

He lets his hand fall away from your leg, instead resting it on the couch next to him. "Yeah, yeah, you're right," he murmurs with a huff. "She really knows how to kill the mood, I swear."

You huff, leaning forward and scooping Lyra up into your arms. Lyra doesn’t object, only babbling louder. “She’s lucky she’s cute.”

Aaron watches as you scoop Lyra up, a slight smile forming on his face at your words. He doesn't bother to deny it, agreeing wholeheartedly. 

"She's got us both wrapped around her little finger," he mutters, shaking his head in a mixture of amusement and affectionate resignation.

Lyra’s babbles grow louder, and you press your face into the crook of her neck, pressing quick kisses to the soft skin. “My spoiled bug.”

Aaron's heart warms as he watches you shower Lyra with affection, his gaze softening even further. It's rare to see you this soft, and he loves it. 

He lets out a small hum, a smile tugging at his lips. "You spoil her way too much," he teases, his voice affectionate.

“It’s only gonna get worse when we have another.” You mumble, holding Lyra close to your chest, pressing kisses to every inch of her face.

Aaron lets out a soft huff at your words, a small smirk playing across his face. He's known that for a while, and he's just as whipped as you. There's no fighting the overwhelming instincts to spoil the crap out of our kids. 

"Oh, yeah?" he murmurs, raising an eyebrow. "You're planning the second kid already?"

“…Maybe.”

Aaron blinks at your words, a mixture of surprise and amusement flashing across his face. "Maybe? Is that so?" he teases, his voice thick with skepticism. 

He raises an eyebrow, looking at you with a playful smirk, as if daring you to admit it and make it more than a maybe.

“Not so soon, though.” You murmur, cradling Lyra close to your chest. “Maybe when bug is three or something.”

Aaron can't help but chuckle at your words, his smile widening. Of course you'd wait, you *do have some sense after all. 

He lets out a small huff, shaking his head in mock disappointment. "Three? You're making me wait that long?"

“We can always practice.” You tease, raising a brow.

The implication of your words causes Aaron's cheeks to turn slightly pink, a small shiver running through him. 

His gaze is now locked intently on your face, a smirk forming on his lips as he looks at you. "Practice, huh?" he muses, his voice low and filled with an underlying hint of desire.

“Yeah.” You hum, Lyra’s babbling filling the comforting silence. “We had a lot of fun the first time.”

Aaron lets out another soft shiver as your words register in his mind, memories of that night replaying in his mind. The way you had looked, the sounds you had made…everything about it was just perfect. 

His eyes dart over your facial expression, his own gaze darkening ever so slightly. "You're killing me, y'know that?"

“Sorry.” You mumble, though your voice has no apologetic tone. You lift Lyra up, looking into her wide eyes. “Got a good time and a cute baby out of it.”

Aaron gives a small huff of mock frustration, pretending to glare at you, though it's laced with affection and amusement. "Cheeky," he mutters, his tone light and playful. 

He's about to say something else but is interrupted by Lyra's sudden babble, the soft sounds drawing his attention. He watches her for a moment, his eyes softening considerably.

“What?” You coo, lifting her up further. “Why are you still awake, huh? You’re supposed to be my sleepy bug.”

Aaron huffs softly as he watches the interaction, quietly observing. Despite his earlier frustration, he can't help but admire how effortlessly you transition from teasing him to being just adorable with Lyra. That's one of the many reasons why he's enamored with you. 

He can't help but chuckle at your baby talk with Lyra, amused by the way you're trying to get your little bug to sleep.

“C’mon bug, you’re interrupting some quality grown up time.” You grumble, blowing a soft raspberry into her cheek.

Aaron can't help but snicker softly at the sight of you blowing raspberries into Lyra's cheek, her little babbles and giggles filling the room.

You gasp, pulling her away and looking at her intensely. “Oh my god. Did you just- Did you just laugh?”

Aaron grins, his heart skipping a beat at the expression on your face. He can see the excitement in your eyes, and it's like you suddenly discovered gold. 

He raises an eyebrow, his voice a mix of amusement and disbelief. "You caught that, huh?"

“She’s never laughed with me before.” You murmur, eyes flickering over her face.

Aaron listens intently, his own eyes now fixed on Lyra's face. He watches as you examine her expression, looking for any hint of a laugh or even just a smile. 

His own expression softens, a sense of awe and joy filling him at the idea of your little bug's first laugh. "It's a milestone, isn't it?" He muses quietly, his voice just above a whisper.

You nod, shifting the three month old in your arms and bringing her closer to your face. “Can you laugh for me again, my beautiful bug?”

Lyra gazes at you with wide, dark brown eyes, her little face scrunching up in concentration. 

For several moments, there's nothing but absolute silence, her babbles the only sound breaking the quiet. 

Then, with a hint of a start, she lets out another laugh, a soft, high-pitched sound that fills the room.

You practically melt. Cradling her in your arms like she was the last thing on earth. “Oh, my beautiful bug.” You lean her closer, pressing soft kisses all over her face.

Aaron's heart practically melts at how you're practically enamored with her, showering her little face with kisses. He can't help but smile softly at the sight. 

He shifts a bit to get a better look, watching how your expression turns so tender and absolutely smitten as you hold her close.

“She laughed.” You whisper, turning to face him, and you can’t help the tears that well in your eyes.

Aaron blinks at your teary eyes, his own expression softening considerably. He can see the joyous tears shining in your eyes, and his heart melts just a little more at the sight.

He moves closer, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. "She did," he murmurs, his voice quiet but full of warmth. "She did laugh. You caught it."

You close your eyes, pressing your face into her head and sighing softly.

Aaron keeps his arms around you, rubbing your shoulder softly. He's utterly endeared by how much you care for her, watching as you press your face against your darling baby's head. 

After a few moments, he tilts his head, a small smirk playing across his lips. "You gonna hog her all night, or-"

“Shhhhhhh just let me.” You whisper, leaning your shoulder and shifting her in your arms so you both can look at her.

Aaron huffs softly, the amused smirk still present on his face. He can't argue with your words - how could he argue with how utterly in love you seemed? 

He shifts, resting his chin on your shoulder as you both look down at her.

“Can you laugh for me again, buggy?” You murmur, pulling your knees up to your chest and resting her against them, almost as if she’s on display for the two of you.

As you pull Lyra against your raised legs, cradling her in your arms, she gazes up at you with those wide eyes, her face scrunching in concentration once more. 

For several long moments, there's nothing but the soft babbling from Lyra, her babbles the only thing breaking the now-comfortable silence. 

Then, almost as if on cue, she lets out another laugh, a soft high-pitched sound that fills your ears.

“Oh my god.” You slump against Aaron’s shoulder dramatically, looking at your daughter as if she hung the moon. “She’s the cutest baby in the world. Like- there has to be a record for cutest laugh.”

Aaron holds you closer, supporting you against his shoulder as you practically slump next to him. He keeps his chin lifted to look down at your beautiful daughter, watching you practically dote over her. 

He can't help but chuckle at your words, a small smile tugging at his lips. "I can't argue with that." He murmurs quietly, the warm tone in his voice evident.

You sigh, pressing Lyra against your chest. “Thank you.”

Aaron gives a small hum, his arms wrapping around you as you press both of you against your chest. 

"For what?" He asks softly, peering down at you.

“For giving me everything I’ve ever wanted.” Your voice is low, barely audible above Lyra’s soft babbles.

Aaron's heart practically soars at your words, an intense wave of emotions crashing over him. He can't help but pull you closer into his arms, wanting you as close as possibly. 

His voice is low and quiet when he speaks, his voice carrying a hint of a vulnerability you don't hear too often from him. 

"I'd give you the world if I could."

“You already did.” You sigh, holding Lyra closely in front of you two, gazing at her lovingly.

Aaron lets out a soft huff, his heart *swelling* at your words. He can feel your love for her, your tenderness and dedication. 

He follows your gaze, his eyes landing on her small form cuddled against your chest. She gazes at the two of you with those big, curious eyes that seem to hold the world within them.

Aaron leans closer, pressing his lips against your forehead. "She's perfect." He mutters quietly.

“So perfect.” You whisper, brushing a finger over the soft surface of her cheek.

Aaron watches your interaction with Lyra intently, his heart practically melting at the sight. He's never been the most openly sentimental person, but even he can't help but notice the devotion you had for your little bug.

He remains close, his chin resting on your shoulder as he continues to watch. "We made her, you know." He murmurs softly.

“Guess we were destined to have cute babies.”

Aaron lets out a soft hum, an amused smile forming on his lips at your words. 

He's not one to believe in 'destiny' or 'fate,' but hearing you say that sparks a warm feeling within him. 

"Guess so." He responds quietly, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek.

You pull your gaze away from Lyra, looking up and flickering your eyes across Aaron’s face. Gently, you lean in and press your lips against his.

Aaron's expression softens as you pull your gaze away, his full attention now on you. He watches your eyes flit over his features, the intensity of your attention not lost on him. 

When your soft lips press against his, Aaron lets out the softest of huffs, his heart throbbing in his chest. He responds to your kiss, his own lips moving against yours in a slow, gentle rhythm.

The kiss between you two continues, a gentle, slow and sweet exchange of affection between you.

Aaron's mind is blissfully quiet, his focus now completely on you and you alone. He shifts, shifting a bit closer to you and drawing you closer against his chest, as if he could somehow merge you both together into some sort of hybrid. 

When you finally pull away, he keeps you against him, not quite ready to let go yet.

You don’t say anything, still pressing slow kisses to his lips, almost as if you’re trying to convince your lips to pull away.

Aaron can't help but chuckle softly, the sound muffled by your continued kisses. His own arms tighten slightly around you, keeping you as close as he can. 

As much as he wants to prolong the moment, he can feel his own need for air getting a bit desperate. He hums lowly, reluctantly pulling away.

"Hey, breathe." He mutters between soft huffs, a small smirk on his lips.

“Sorry.” You breathe sheepishly, pursing your now swollen lips.

"You should be." Aaron quips, still holding you close against him. He reaches a hand up, gently tracing over your now swollen and rosy lips. 

"Can't have you suffocating." He teases.

“I’d die a happy death.” You joke, pausing when Lyra wriggles in your arms.

Aaron huffs at your words, his expression shifting to one of faux irritation. He rolls his eyes, his tone still playful. "Don't be stupid."

Then, he looks down as you adjust Lyra, a hint of amusement appearing on his face. 

"She looks uncomfortable." He notes quietly, his eyes observing as Lyra wriggles in your arms.

“She’s getting sleepy, I think.”

He studies her for a moment, a small hum on his lips. "You should put her to bed." He suggests quietly, his eyes flicking back to your form.

You hum, nodding softly to yourself and slowly making your way off the couch. “C’mon, my sleepy bug.”

Aaron watches you carefully as you stand up, cradling Lyra in your arms. He stays close, quietly observing as you walk away.

He can't help but smile at the way you address her - "my sleepy bug" - how utterly adorable. He follows after you, silently walking beside you.

Lyra babbles sleepily in your arms, wriggling with every step you take to her room. You hum a soft tune as you open her bedroom door, opting to turn on the lamp rather than the big bright light.

Aaron follows behind you into the bedroom, taking in the soft, almost peaceful atmosphere. He leans against the wall a few feet away, quietly watching as you gently walk to her crib, humming a soft tune.

He stays there, leaning against the wall, simply observing as you gently lay her down.

“Are you sleepy, buggy? Huh? You tired after doing nothing all day?” You whisper softly, rubbing at her tummy softly.

Aaron grins quietly, watching you coo at her so affectionately. His heart gives a throb of emotion as you continue to gently play with her. 

Lyra lets out a series of high-pitched sounds, her babbling filling the quiet room alongside your soft whispers.

“C’mon honey, go to sleep. Go to sleep for Mommy, please.” You brush one of her curls away from her face

Aaron watches silently as you continue to coax her into sleep. 

He can't help but think how utterly beautiful you look in this moment, how absolutely perfect you are as you tend to your little bug with such love and tenderness. 

He lets out a soft huff, quietly moving away from the wall and moving closer to the crib.

Aaron stops just beside you, peering down at Lyra with an almost amused expression. Lyra's eyes are still wide open, fixated on your face. 

Aaron huffs softly, a hint of a smirk forming on his lips as he glances up at you. "She's not going to sleep anytime soon."

“Nope.” You sigh, smiling when she shoots you a gummy smile.

Aaron chuckles quietly, shaking his head as he turns his focus to Lyra. He can't help but smile at the tiny smile she shoots you, and he finds himself wondering just what exactly she's trying to convey. 

"You never want to sleep, do you?" He remarks to the little bug, his tone affectionate.

Aaron watches silently as you continue to try and coax Lyra into sleep, his smile still present on his face. He can see the determination in your eyes, how you're willing to try almost anything to get her to go to sleep. 

He can't help but find your dedication endearing.

"Any ideas?" He asks finally, referring to your little efforts to get her to sleep.

“Lemme try the bassinet by the bed.” You sigh, scooping the baby back into your arms and making your way to your bedroom.

Aaron follows quietly after you, his hands buried in his pockets. He listens as you start to talk to Lyra again, wondering to himself if this different location will do the trick. 

Once you reach your bedroom, Aaron stands in the doorway, watching as you set her down in the bassinet beside the bed.

“Alright, miss thing.” You whisper, setting her down gently. “How about now?”

There's a moment's pause before Lyra gives another tired little giggle in response to your words. 

Aaron huffs, a small smile on his face as he watches the exchange. "Still awake, huh?" He muses quietly.

You sigh, giving him a tired smile. “I think I’m just gonna let her ride it out.”

Aaron gives a soft nod, smiling back at you. He takes a few steps further into the room, coming to a stop right beside the bassinet.

Lyra's eyes, still wide, are fixated on the two of you. Another soft giggle erupts from her tiny mouth.

You smile at the sound, sitting down on the bed.

Aaron moves to sit beside you on the bed, sitting down on the edge of the mattress. He keeps his eyes on Lyra, watching the little bug's every move. 

He turns to look at you, studying your tired expression and trying to gauge your thoughts. "You look tired."

“Just a little bit.” You murmur, tilting your head as you look at him.

Aaron hums, watching as your gaze drifts away from Lyra and lands on him. He reaches a hand out, gently brushing it across your cheek.

He studies your tired expression, his touch gentle and reassuring. "You look worn out."

You hummed, leaning into his touch sleepily. The sounds of Lyra’s soft babbling is starting to make you even sleepier.

As you lean into his touch, Aaron's other hand comes to rest on your back, his fingers rubbing slow and gentle circles on your back. 

He looks down at you, a hint of amusement visible on his face as he notices how the soft sound of Lyra's babbles are making you sleepy.

You sigh, giving Lyra one more look before shuffling towards your end of the bed.

Aaron watches as you begin to shuffle towards your end of the bed, his hand still holding onto your back and keeping you close. 

He notices how tired you seem, how your movements are starting to slow, and he can see you starting to doze off right in front of him. 

He moves to lay down behind you, pulling you close against him.

Aaron wraps his arms around you, holding you close against his chest. He can feel you beginning to relax against him, your body slowly giving in to how tired you are. 

He buries his face into your hair, breathing in your scent, and he smiles at the sound of your soft yawn.

“I’m crazy about you, y’know that?” Your voice is soft, coated in sleep.

"I know." 

Aaron's voice is quiet in response, so as not to wake the baby. 

He holds you a little bit tighter, pulling you a bit closer against his chest. His own eyelids are heavy with exhaustion, but he stays awake long enough to speak.

"I'm crazy about you, too."

[yankeelxver]

‘LYRA’S FIRST BASEBALL GAME’ | A. Judge

(part of the lyra!verse!au on my other blog @burkhxrts )

“the greatest in the league. where's the trophy? he just comes running over to me.” -taylor swift [6.8k words]

summary: lyra’s first baseball game is…eventful to say the least.

warning(s): none, a bit suggestive at the end but you get cockblocked cause i was up til 3 am writing this :3

"Hey, sweetheart," Aaron rumbles, his voice low and warm, a small smile on his face, "Bring bug here for a bit?" He gestures to the spot next to him, surrounded by the usual reporters and cameras.

You give him a soft smile, clutching Lyra tighter to your chest as you make your way towards him.

Aaron's eyes light up as you make your way over to him, a small smile forms on his face. He looks at Lyra quickly, before his eyes return to you. He leans forward, his voice low and quiet.

"You staying for the game?" he asks, his voice holding a hint of hopefulness.

“Yeah.” You murmur, shifting Lyra on your hip. The five month old pays no mind, looking around and waving at anyone who looks her way. “Figured it’s time to let her see her dad in action.”

Aaron's eyes soften as you speak, a fond look in his eyes as he watches Lyra wave cheerfully at the reporters. He shifts his body so that he's facing more towards you, still standing where you've come to him.

"She's getting big so fast," he murmurs, reaching out a hand to gently touch a strand of your hair, running his fingers through it.

You hum at his touch, sighing sadly as you look at Lyra. “I know, I can’t believe she’s five months already.”

Aaron watches you watch Lyra, his eyes trailing over your face and the way you look at your daughter. He can see the sadness, the bittersweetness in your eyes, but he gives your hair one more soft, gentle tug.

"She looks like you," he murmurs quietly, his voice warm, "She has your eyes. Your nose."

“You think so?”

Aaron nods, giving your hair another tug. He leans a little closer, his voice taking on a soft, almost confidential tone, just for you to hear.

"Definitely. She has your eyes, your nose, your smile, your lips, everything. She's just a tiny version of you, sweetheart."

You try to suppress the smile threatening to break across your face, but it’s no use. A breathy laugh escapes you, and you shake your head lightly, a playful glint dancing in your eyes.

"You’re a sap, y’know that?" you tease, though your tone carries more affection than mockery.

Aaron grins, a cheeky sparkle in his eyes, as if he knows fully well he is a sap, and that you love it. He gives your hair another gentle tug, a small smirk forming on his lips.

"Just for you," he murmurs, his voice a bit lower, a bit husky. "Only for you, sweetheart."

You hum, closing your eyes for a moment when Lyra presses her face into your neck affectionately. “I love you.”

Aaron's smirk softens, replaced by a small, tender smile as Lyra nuzzles against your neck. He lets his gaze soften slightly on the two of you, his voice dropping even lower, more intimate.

"I love you too, sweetheart," he murmurs, his hand now resting on your hip. "So much."

You open your eyes, leaning forward to press a quick kiss to his cheek. “Good luck tonight, baby.”

Aaron smirks as you lean forward and press a kiss to his cheek, his eyes fluttering half-shut. He can't help the way his breath hitches ever-so-slightly at the contact, the way his heart skips a beat.

"Thanks, sweetheart," he replies, his voice a little rougher than usual. He lifts a hand to gently rest it against the small of your back, pulling you just a tad bit closer to him.

Lyra shifts in your arms, eyes landing on Aaron. She stretches her arms out, whining softly.

Aaron's eyes immediately dart down to the sight of Lyra's small arms being extended towards him. His smirk softens into a smile, his eyes glimmering with adoration and love as he regards the little one.

"Well, looks like somebody wants a hug." he mutters, his voice soft and warm. He opens his arms slightly, watching her expectantly.

You move Lyra closer, grinning when she gives Aaron a gummy smile.

The corners of Aaron's mouth quirk up into a proper smile as soon as she smiles at him. He gently takes her from your arms, holding her up so that she's eye level with him. His expression is warm, affectionate, a hint of playfulness in his eyes as he peers at her.

"Hey there, pretty girl," he murmurs, his voice deep and soft all at once. He gently pinches her nose.

Aaron is completely captivated by the little one in his arms, his attention focused solely on her. His eyes dart all over her small face, admiring her features, his expression filled with a mixture of tenderness, affection, and pride. He can feel the cameras on him, the reporters' lenses pointed his way, but he doesn't seem to care.

"Aren’t you just adorable," he muses, his voice still low and smooth. His gaze flicks back to you, still holding Lyra in his arms. "Just like your momma."

You give him another smile, resting your head on his shoulder as you look at Lyra, who’s playing with the gold chain that rests on Aaron’s chest.

As you rest your head and look at Lyra, she continues to mess with the gold chain, seemingly fascinated by the shiny metal. Aaron can feel you leaning against him, and he turns his head slightly to look down at you for a moment.

His heart warms at seeing you so close, the way you look so comfortable against him. His gaze softens as he looks back down at Lyra, his voice warm and affectionate.

"She's so curious," he murmurs, his arms gently adjusting her in his hold.

“I think she gets that from you.”

Aaron can't help but chuckle at your remark, a small, warm smile tugging at his lips.

"Fair enough," he concedes, his eyes shifting to you again. "I'm certainly the curious one." He can't help the hint of teasing in his voice, but he knows there's a grain of truth in it.

His hand gently pats Lyra's back, his other arm pulling you a bit closer against his side.

The warmth and comfort of having you so close to him, your body pressed against his side, is something Aaron cherishes more than anything. He turns his head slightly, his voice dropping to a quiet murmur, just for you to hear.

"I missed you," he murmurs, his gaze gentle as he regards you. Even with Lyra in his arms and the reporters around, his focus is entirely on you in this moment.

Your eyes softens into something lighter, and you give him a sad but understanding smile. You knew he had been on the road for a week, and that this was the first time you’d actually seen him since then. “I missed you too.”

Aaron's heart sinks at your sad smile, and he can hear the undertone of sorrow in your voice. He knows that, even though he's been gone and you've been on your own, taking care of Lyra, that you've been missing him.

He hates being away from you, hates being away from the family. He gently pulls you closer to him, his hand rubbing soothingly against your back, his voice a near whisper.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart." he murmurs, the sincerity in his tone evident.

“Don’t be. You’re here now, that’s all that matters.”

Aaron can hear the sincerity and trust in your voice, a small part of him feeling a bit guilty, but mostly just grateful that you're understanding. It still bothers him that he's not been around, but the reminder that he is now, that he's here, matters greatly to him.

His expression softens, his voice dropping even lower, almost a whisper, just for you to hear.

"I don't want to miss anything," he murmurs, pulling you a little bit closer. "I don't want to be apart from you and Lyra for so long."

“You’re not missing anything, Bean.” You reassure, subconsciously using the nickname you gave him so long ago. “You're doing what you love, and I’m so proud of you for it.”

Aaron's heart warms at the nickname you give him, a wave of affection washing over him at the endearment. He can't help but love the way it sounds coming from you, and the way it makes him feel.

"I know," he murmurs in reply, a small, almost sheepish tilt to his head. "I know." But he can't deny that he misses you, that he's missed seeing you, seeing Lyra. He still hates the fact that he's been away almost constantly lately.

"Just... missing being a family," he continues quietly.

“We are a family, dork.” You snort, pinching his side lightly. “You don’t have to be there every single second to know that we’re a family.”

Aaron lets out a soft, amused huff, a bit of a huff laugh at the pinch on his side, his expression softening at your words. He knows you're right, of course, but he can't help the possessive, protective streak within him that wants to spend every second with you and Lyra.

"I know," he replies, his voice taking on a hint of playful mock-pout. "Just don't go falling in love with someone while I'm gone."

“I’m offended you think I would even look at another man.”

A small, almost smug smirk tugs at the corners of his lips at your words, his eyes sparkling with mischief. He pulls you closer, his arm now fully around you, practically holding you against his side.

"Just making sure, sweetheart," he teases, his eyes gleaming. His hand gently pats your hip, his voice lowering to a murmur, a hint of possessiveness present. "My girl."

“Your girl.” You hum, resting your head against his shoulder once more, flickering your gaze over to Lyra, who, to no one’s surprise, is waving to another baby in the stands.

Aaron can feel a sense of pride and satisfaction swell in his chest when you confirm that you're his, his girl, and only his. He can't help the smile that spreads across his lips at that, his hand gently rubbing against your hip in a possessive manner.

His gaze goes to Lyra, a small smile forming as he watches her wave to the baby in the stands. He's not surprised at all - his girl was made to be sociable and friendly, after all.

"She's so damn cute," he muses, his voice softer than usual.

“Our social bug.” You murmur, brushing a finger over her cheek.

"She's definitely a charmer," Aaron agrees, his voice holding a hint of warmth and affection. He watches as you brush your finger over Lyra's cheek, his heart swelling as he looks at the two of you.

His hand stays on your hip, holding you close to his side, as he turns his gaze back to the people around you. He's suddenly aware again of the reporters and cameras, but he doesn't seem to care.

You follow his gaze, clearing your throat softly and gently untangling Lyra from his arms. “I should let you get back to your interviews.”

Aaron lets out a small, reluctant huff as you gently take Lyra from his arms, the little one whining slightly at being untangled. His expression softens as he looks at the two of you, his eyes full of affection and a hint of reluctance to part.

"You sure?" he asks, his voice quiet. He knows you're right, but he can't help wanting to keep you and Lyra close to him, to hold onto this family time for just a little longer.

“Yeah.” You hum, and you feel Lyra nuzzle her head into your neck. “We’ll be up in the suites with the girls, so you’ll know where to find us.”

Aaron nods at your response, a flicker of disappointment in his eyes, but he understands. He gives Lyra a small, parting pat on the back before shifting his gaze back to you, his expression a bit softer, more tender.

"Alright," he murmurs, his voice quiet, just between the two of you. "I'll find you when the game is over, sweetheart."

You mumble out a soft ‘okay’ and lean up, pecking his lips softly. “Good luck, baby.”

The kiss on his lips is something Aaron doesn’t expect, but he can’t help but lean into it, soaking in the softness of your lips. He lets a small smile grace his lips afterwards, his eyes warm and affectionate.

He gives your hip a gentle squeeze, his voice taking on a hint of mock-pouting. “Tease,” he mutters under his breath, watching as you walk away, Lyra still resting on your hip.

The suite is filled with the low hum of the other wives' conversations, the sound of laughter and friendly banter mingling in the air. It's a comfortable atmosphere, made even more so by the suite's luxurious accommodations - plush couches, well-stocked bars, and a large flat screen TV showing the game.

You're comfortably settled among the others, a warm drink in your hand and Lyra napping peacefully on your lap.

As you watch Aaron make the field, you feel a soft hand on your shoulder. You can’t help but jump, turning around to see Amy, Gerrit Cole’s wife.

“Amy what’re you doing here? I thought you hated the suites?”

Amy's presence in the suites is a bit of a surprise to you, considering her previous dislike of such places. You can't help but jerk a bit when you feel her hand on your shoulder, turning to look at her in slight surprise. When she answers your question, a small, sheepish smile graces her lips.

"I know, I usually do," she replies, a hint of resignation in her tone. "But Gerrit said that you were hanging out here, so I figured I'd come keep you company."

“Are you sure you didn’t wanna get a peak of the baby?” You tease, raising a brow.

Amy lets out a small, sheepish laugh at your comment, her cheeks tinting pink slightly.

"Maybe a bit," she admits, a hint of embarrassment in her tone, though there's a sparkle of amusement in her eyes. "But I'm mostly here for you, honest."

“Amy Cole, are you going soft on me?”

Amy lets out another laugh, her cheeks pinkening even more at your teasing.

"No! Of course not." she protests, feigning offense. She tries to keep a straight face, but a small, playful smile tugs at her lips. "I am not going soft. I'm still the same ole badass, thank you very much."

You give her an unconvincing hum, turning your gaze to the field down below, rocking Lyra in your arms.

As your attention turns back to the field, Amy grins a bit wider. She knows damned well she's not going soft, but she's still amused by your teasing. She moves to sit down beside you, her eyes on the game.

"You're the one who's going soft," she counters, a hint of playful mockery in her tone. "Just look at you - you're a walking heart eyes emoji these days."

“Can you blame me?” You scoff, clutching Lyra tighter to your chest, eyes still focused on Aaron on the field.

Amy lets out a small laugh as she follows your gaze, her own eyes going to the field and landing on Aaron.

"No, I can't." she responds jokingly, a hint of a softer, understanding tone in her voice. "But you're always so whipped for him. You're like a walking gush of heart eyes and soft smiles every single time you look at the guy."

“Well it’s been like that since I was sixteen so I doubt it’s going away anytime soon.”

Amy can't help but let out a light laugh at your response.

"Jesus, really?" she asks, a hint of disbelief and amazement in her voice. "Since sixteen? Damn, no wonder you can't stop looking at him. That's some serious devotion, girl."

You nod shyly, unable to stop the flush that creeps onto your cheeks. You keep your gaze on Aaron, watching as he starts to put on his batting gear in the dugout.

Amy watches your gaze fixed on Aaron, noting the soft pink flush on your cheeks. She can practically see the love and devotion radiating off of you.

"You're still gushing!" she points out, her voice a mixture of teasing and genuine affection. "Look at you, going all heart eyes just from watching him put on his gear.”

“Oh don’t act like you don’t get the same way when Gerrit’s on the mound.” You shot back, giving her a look.

Amy lets out a small huff of mock offense, a hint of a blush on her own cheeks at your jab. She feigns indignation, holding a hand against her chest.

"Hey! I most certainly do not!" she tries to protest, but her voice sounds a little too unconvincing. "I am perfectly cool and collected when Gerrit pitches."

“You practically drool every time he walks onto the mound, Amy.”

Amy can't help but let out a small, sheepish laugh at your comment, her cheeks pinkening even further as she's exposed for her true thoughts. Still, she tries to feign mock-indignation.

"I do not drool!" she protests, but the hint of a smile on her lips betrays her. "Okay, maybe I get a little excited when he's on the mound, but who could blame me? Have you seen Gerrit pitch?!"

“He’s one of a kind, for sure.” You comment appreciatively about the Yankee Ace. It was true, Gerrit did do remarkable things for the team's pitching rotation, and it was always a good game when he was on the mound.

Amy nods in agreement, a hint of pride in her expression. Even though Gerrit wasn't pitching in the game you were currently sitting in, it was undeniable the impact he had brought to the team's pitching staff.

"Damn right he is." she agrees, her tone filled with pride and admiration. "He's a hell of a player - the ace of the team, and one of the best in the whole damn league. And on top of that, he's one hell of a husband."

You give a soft hum, focusing on Aaron again as you sit Lyra up against your chest. “And you say you're not going soft.” You murmur to yourself, shaking your head.

Amy lets out a small scoff at your comment, the hint of a blush on her cheeks betraying her softening demeanor.

"Hey, shut up." she tries to protest, but there's no real menace in her voice. "Just because I'm happy and proud of my husband doesn't mean I'm going soft. I'm still the badass Amy you know and love."

“Okay, okay.” You put a hand up in defense, watching as Lyra starts stirring, rubbing at her small face tiredly. “You're a badass.”

Amy snickers at your quick agreement, a small smirk tugging at her lips.

"Damn right I am," she says, a hint of sass in her tone. Her gaze shifts to Lyra as the little one starts to stir and rub her small face tiredly.

"Looks like someone is waking up." she notes, glancing at your little girl sleepily rubbing her eyes.

“Good afternoon, sleeping beauty.” You cooed softly, sitting Lyra on your lap and facing her towards you.

Lyra gives a small, sleepy smile as you sit her up on your lap, her eyes slowly fluttering open. She rubs at her face once more before letting out a small yawn, her little arms reaching up to cling to your shirt.

Amy can't help but smile at the sight, her expression soft.

"She is just too precious," she says, her voice filled with a hint of awe and affection. "Looks just like a little angel."

“You wanna say hi to Mrs. Amy? Wave hi, bug.” You whisper, pointing to Amy, faux-excitement coating your voice.

Lyra looks over at Amy, her eyes still sleepy but curious. She follows the direction of your pointing finger and sees Amy sitting there, a small grin on her face.

With a bit of coaxing from you, Lyra gives a small, adorable wave to Amy, her little hand moving up and down in a small, sleepy wave.

Amy's heart just about melts at the sight of Lyra's little wave, a soft laugh escaping her lips. She returns the wave with a little wave of her own.

"Oh, look at you," Amy coos, her voice just as soft as yours a moment ago. "You're such a sweetheart. So cute and adorable."

Lyra lets out a small, sleepy giggle at Amy's cooing and words of praise, her little hand coming back down to cling to your shirt. It's clear that even in her sleepy state, she loves the attention.

Amy's eyes soften as she looks at Lyra, her expression warm and affectionate.

"She's just too cute," she says, her voice filled with a hint of awe. "You and Aaron have made one helluva adorable baby."

“We did, didn’t we?” You hum, pressing a kiss to Lyra’s rosy cheek. The five month old doesn’t respond, clutching onto your necklace and babbling softly.

“You most certainly did.” Amy agrees, watching as you press a kiss to Lyra’s cheek. She can’t help but smile at the infant’s soft babblings and the way she clings to your necklace.

“She’s got your eyes,” she muses, a small laugh escaping her lips. “And Aaron’s hair. And his adorable little nose.”

You smirk at her, raising a brow. “You got a crush on me and my husband, Aims?” Lyra moves to stand on your knees, and you hold the soft skin of her waist.

Amy lets out a small laugh at your comment, her cheeks flushing slightly. She tries to brush it off with a wave of her hand.

"Oh, shut up." she responds, feigning mock-indignation. "I just happen to have eyes, okay? Your baby’s cute, and your husband’s hot - sue me.”

You huff, turning Lyra around and facing her towards the field, her wide eyes flickering all over the stadium, landing on Aaron. “What about me?”

Amy gives you another small laugh, shaking her head.

"You're cute too, obviously." she replies with an eyeroll. "I just don't feel like gushing over you like a love-sick fool in front of a baby. But, you're not half bad yourself. Pretty cute, actually - and good taste in men."

Lyra's wide eyes flicker to the field, taking in the whole stadium. She seems particularly intrigued by Aaron, her little head tilted as she watches him batting.

“Very good taste in men.” You murmur, focusing on Aaron’s at bat, mimicking Lyra and tilting your head as well.

Amy snickers softly at your murmured comment, nodding her agreement.

"Damn right you do." she mutters in response, her eyes moving to the field as well. Both of you sit there, watching as Aaron steps up to the plate, both of your heads tilted to the side as you focus intently.

The game continues, Aaron successfully making it to first base after hitting the ball to the left side of the infield. He looks up into the stands as he makes it to first, scanning the bleachers until he spots you in your suite, Lyra sitting on your lap.

He gives you a small grin and a wink before returning to the game, now waiting patiently on first base.

You wink back, taking Lyra’s small hands into yours and clapping them together softly.

As you wink back, Aaron can't help but smile wider, his grin showing hints of his dimples at the corners of his lips.

Lyra watches you clap her little hands together, her head tilting in confusion. She's still too young to understand the significance of the game, but she seems happy just holding onto your hands and playing the makeshift clapping game.

The game moves on, with the Yankees gradually building up more runs and gaining the lead. In the end, the team wins, and the stadium explodes in applause. You and the other wives clap and cheer along, knowing the celebration you’ll have once you make your way down to the clubhouse.

As you all make your way down towards the clubhouse, your arms gently bouncing Lyra in your arms, the chatter of the other wives can be heard around you. They share small talk, commenting on the game, their husbands' performances, and other small things.

Amy walks beside you, every now and then chiming in to the conversation, though her eyes dart ahead to the entrance of the clubhouse, likely eager to see Geritt.

You stay perched by the door talking to Lyra in hushed murmurs as you wait for Aaron to finish his shower and post-game interviews.

The time seems to tick by slowly as you wait by the door, talking softly to Lyra. Your gaze flickers occasionally to the other wives, but mostly stay on the corridor where the showers are located, waiting for Aaron to emerge.

The sound of the shower spray comes to a stop after a few more minutes and you can hear the faint sound of male voices coming from the other room, likely the media and their questions.

The faint sound of the media’s voices and the sounds of lockers closing fill the air as the players answer the reporters' questions and pack away their things.

After a few more minutes, Aaron emerges from the other room in a fresh set of clothes, towel slung over his shoulders, scrubbing his wet hair back from his forehead. His eyes scan the hallway, searching for you.

You don’t notice him at first, still continuing your one-sided conversation with your daughter, who’s resting her head against your chest and looking up at you sleepily.

Aaron can't help but smile when he sees you and Lyra standing near the entrance to the clubhouse. The sight of you talking to a sleepy Lyra, her head resting against your chest, is sweet and endearing.

He walks over to you as quietly as he can, not wanting to disturb the soft murmur of your voice. When he's standing directly behind you, he reaches out and places a gentle hand on your hip, his touch causing you to jump slightly in surprise.

Aaron grins when he feels you jump at his touch, watching as you slowly turn around while cradling Lyra in your arms. "Scare you?" he teases, his hand still resting on your hip.

“A little bit, yeah.” You murmur softly, giving him a small smile and pecking his lips in greeting.

He chuckles lightly when you admit to being frightened, his grip on your hip tightening just a little as he returns your smile. "My bad, sweetheart," he whispers, his voice low and gentle.

Aaron leans in to press his lips against yours in greeting, his hand tracing a small circle on your hip. "Missed you." he murmurs against your mouth before pulling back slightly.

“Missed you, too.” You whispered, giving him one more kiss. “You did great out there, Bean.”

He smiles against your lips as you return his kiss, his hand still tracing small circles on your hip. "Thanks, babe." he murmurs quietly.

Then he glances down at Lyra, who’s still resting her head against your chest, sleepily looking up at the two of you. Aaron grins at the sight. "Looks like someone’s getting sleepy."

“She wore herself out with all the clapping she did.”

Aaron lets out a soft chuckle as you mention Lyra’s excessive clapping. “Must’ve been some real good applause if it tired her out that much.”

He reaches out a hand to gently brush a finger against Lyra’s cheek. “Poor girl’s all tuckered out.”

"Definitely." you murmur. Lyra’s eyes are just barely open, a soft yawn escaping her small mouth as her head lolls against your chest. The poor baby looks so tired she’d probably fall asleep right in your arms if you let her.

Aaron continues to gently brush his finger over her cheek, shaking his head affectionately. “Sleepy little bug.”

"We should probably head home soon, or she might pass out right here." you say, a soft laugh escaping your lips. Though the very sight of Lyra falling asleep where she stands is adorable, you'd rather get her safely buckled into her crib back at home.

Aaron nods in agreement, a grin still playing at the corner of his lips. "Yeah, you're right. We’ve worn our princess out."

You gently adjust Lyra in your arms, making sure her head is resting comfortably against your shoulder. The poor baby is practically already asleep, her little eyes slowly closing and eyelashes fluttering.

Meanwhile, Aaron continues to keep his hand on your hip, walking beside you as you make your way towards the exit.

The two of you make your way out of the clubhouse, the cool evening air hitting your bodies as you step outside. The sky is just beginning to darken, the last traces of sunlight disappearing over the horizon.

Lyra sleepily mumbles against your shoulder as you walk towards your car, nuzzling her face into the crook of your neck.

"Poor baby," you murmur gently, gently stroking Lyra's back as she nuzzles against your shoulder. She lets out another soft yawn, her eyes barely open.

Aaron nods, his expression affectionate. "She really did wear herself out, huh?" he muses, his hand still resting on your hip.

"Yeah, looks like it." you agree, shifting your hand to cradle her head. "She’ll be out like a light any second now."

The three of you reach the car, and Aaron unlocks it with a small click of the key. You’ve almost got Lyra buckled into her car seat when she suddenly opens her eyes fully and lets out a small, protesting cry.

“Shhh, it’s okay, bug. You're okay.” You murmur, brushing a curl from her face.

Her small cries continue as you reach out to brush a stray curl from her face, her tiny hands reaching up to grab at you. Lyra doesn’t seem very happy about being placed into her car seat.

"Shhh, baby." you soothe, gently stroking her hair. “You’re okay. We’re just going home.”

Lyra just responds with another grumpy cry, her hands still reaching up towards you. It’s as if she doesn’t want to be separated from you, even for the short car ride home.

Aaron watches from the side, a small smirk on his face as he observes the scene. He can’t help but find it a little amusing how fussy the baby has gotten.

You sigh, pulling off your jacket. You place the sweater over her small frame, hoping that the smell of your familiar perfume would comfort her.

Lyra seems to settle a little once your jacket is placed over her small frame. She buries her face in the soft material, inhaling the scent of your perfume. The soothing fragrance of your jacket combined with your gentle touch seems to work, and her small crying gradually subsides into soft whimpers.

"Looks like all she wanted was a little piece of Mommy." Aaron says teasingly, watching as Lyra calms down in your arms.

The baby continues to nuzzle her face into the jacket, still whimpering a little, but no longer fully crying.

You sigh in relief, stepping back and closing the car door softly. You turn around to face Aaron with a small smile, tilting your head up at him. “Hi.”

Aaron grins down at you, his expression affectionate as you tilt your head up at him. "Hey." he murmurs back, his hand returning to the curve of your hip.

He gazes down at you for a moment, his eyes flickering across your face, as if taking in the sight of you. "You know," he says, a hint of playfulness in his voice. "Lyra's not the only one who missed you."

You laugh softly, a soft blush coating your cheeks. Even after all these years, he still manages to make you blush like a schoolgirl. “I guess I didn’t give you a proper hello, huh?”

Aaron lets out a low chuckle at your soft laugh and the blush that crept onto your cheeks. He can’t help but feel a slight sense of satisfaction at the fact that he can still make you blush so easily after all these years.

“Oh, did you forget something?” he teases, his hand on your hip tightening just a little. He steps closer to you, close enough that you’re nearly pressed flush against his chest.

You hum, frowning in thought. “I guess I did. Wonder what it was.”

His hand moves from your hip to slide under your chin, tilting your head up ever so slightly. His eyes flicker down to your lips, the slightest hint of a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. "Hmm, wonder what it could be."

He moves even closer to you, his body now fully pressed against yours. The proximity is practically making heat coil in your gut as he looks down at you. "Care to remind me?" he murmurs.

You keep your curious facade up a little longer, leaning even closer into the warmth of his body. “Hmmm, I think I remember now.”

"Oh, do you now?"

Aaron responds by pressing closer into you, his body molding to yours perfectly, like a puzzle piece slotting into place. His fingers keep your chin tilted up, his gaze flickering from your eyes to your lips.

"And what do you remember?" he asks, his voice low and husky, his own playfulness laced with something deeper.

“I think I remember something like this,” You whisper, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “And this,” Another kiss, but to one of his cheeks. “And…this.” A final kiss, finally on the lips.

Aaron lets out a low hum of satisfaction when he feels your lips press against the corner of his mouth, his eyes closing as he relishes in the feel of your touch. As you move to kiss his cheeks, his breath hitches, his eyelids fluttering.

And then, as your lips finally press against his own, he lets out a soft, almost inaudible moan, a shiver running down his spine. His hand moves away from your chin to rest on the small of your back, gently reeling you impossibly closer to his body.

The kiss deepens, your lips moving against his in a slow, languid dance. Despite the years you two have been married, there's still something almost electric about the simple act of kissing one another. His hand on the small of your back tightens, gripping you closer to him, his body yearning to be as close to you as physically possible.

He breaks the kiss after a moment, pulling back just enough to look down at you. Lust pools in his eyes as he takes in your flushed cheeks and slightly swollen lips.

"Damn, I missed you."

The words slip out of his mouth in a soft murmur, his hand on your back gently rubbing small circles on the material of your shirt. He runs his tongue over his bottom lip, savoring the taste of your kiss.

Aaron's gaze remains fixated on you, his eyes roaming over your flushed face and swollen lips. He can't help but appreciate the sight, his own heart rate beginning to quicken in response.

“Missed you too, handsome.” You murmured, giving him another soft peck.

The corner of Aaron's mouth quirks up in a small, almost boyish smile. He can't get enough of your affections, and the sound of your voice uttering an endearment only makes him want you more.

He returns the small kiss, his own lips lingering on yours just a bit longer. "Still as sweet as ever, huh?" he murmurs against your mouth.

"Can't help it when I'm around you." you reply, your lips brushing against his again. "You bring out the sweet in me."

Your fingers toy with the collar of his shirt, tugging gently in a playful gesture. There's a hint of a smug smirk on your face, as if you're aware just how much your affection affects him.

Aaron lets out a huff of laughter, a slight rumble in his chest. Your reply and the tugging of his collar causes a shiver to run down his spine. He can't help but fall apart at the sight of your smirk.

"Such a tease." he says in a low murmur, his hand on the small of your back dipping just low enough to nearly dip into the back pocket of your jeans. "You know exactly what you're doing to me, don't you?"

You laugh softly, the sound both sweet and just a touch evil. "Of course I do." you reply, keeping up the playfulness in your voice. "You think after all this time, I wouldn't know how to get a rise out of you?"

Your hand moves from his collar to instead slide down his chest, fingers tracing the muscles underneath his shirt. All the while, your smirk remains in place, your confidence unwavering.

Aaron swallows hard, the feeling of your hand on his chest and the sight of your smug smile are nearly too much for him. He can hardly form a coherent thought, let alone speak in anything more than a low, gruff murmur.

"You're gonna be the death of me, you know that, right?” he manages to mutter, leaning down to press his forehead against yours.

You chuckle softly, the sound almost a purr. "I know." you reply, the tone of your voice almost sultry. You let your hand rest on his chest, feeling the gentle rise and fall of his breaths.

A coy smile graces your features. "But you love it."

Aaron lets out a low rumble deep in his chest, his eyes closing as he leans his head against yours. He can't deny the truth in your words, no matter how teasing you may phrase them.

"Damn right I do." he admits, a hint of desire in his voice. He lets out a breath that's almost a sigh, his hands gripping your hips even tighter.

Your smirk widens at his admission, a sense of satisfaction washing over you. It's always good to know you still have the power to make him weak.

"Good." you murmur, shifting your hand from his chest to once again toy with his collar. "Because I'm planning on making you suffer a lot more tonight."

Aaron lets out another low rumble, the sound almost like a growl this time. The implications in your words send a shiver of anticipation racing down his spine, his grip on your hips tightening reflexively.

"And how exactly do you plan on doing that?" he asks, his voice deep and roughened with desire. He lets his forehead rest against yours again, his eyes opening to meet yours again, the hint of lust still visible.

"Oh, I have a few ideas." you reply, your tone still dripping with an intoxicating sense of confidence. You know exactly how much your words are affecting him, and you bask in it.

You press your body against his, closing the distance between you even more. Now, you're practically flush against his chest, and you can feel the rapid beat of his heart against your own.

"You'll just have to wait and see."

Aaron's breath hitches as you press against him, the feeling of your body flush against his making it difficult for him to think clearly. It takes all his will power not to react like a horny teenager and push you against the car and have his wicked way with you right here in the parking lot.

A low whine escapes his lips as he leans his head down, burying his face in the crook of your neck. He lets out a hot breath against your skin, a low moan escaping his mouth. "You're killing me, y'know that?"

A shiver runs down your spine as you feel Aaron's breath hot against your skin. His low whine and the sound of his voice against your ear make your heart skip a beat, your chest tighten at the raw desire in his words.

"But you love it when I tease you, don't you bean?" you murmur, your voice low and sultry. You run your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck, nails gently scratching his scalp.

Another shiver runs down Aaron's spine as he feels your nails scratching against his scalp. He lets out another moan, the sound muffled against your neck. He can't help but react to your touch, his body begging for more.

He manages to pull his head away from your neck, his breathing still heavy and ragged. He meets your gaze again, his eyes dark with desire. "God, you're so unfair." he mutters, his hands running up and down your sides.

You can't help but smirk at the sight of him all worked up, loving the feeling of how much your teasing affects him. It's almost delicious, seeing him come apart under your touch.

"Oh, is that so?" you purr, your fingers continuing to run through his hair. "Why don't you do something about it, then?"

You press your body even further against his, your chest now fully against his, your faces inches apart.

Aaron lets out a low groan, his restraint slowly slipping away. It's hard for him to resist you when you're so close like this, your body pressing against his, your voice sultry as you dare him to do something about his current state.

He can feel the heat of your bodies mingling, the contact sending bolts of need through his body. He wants you, now.

“Let’s go home.”

[mvpswift]

+18. SMUT

a/n: never wrote smut like in detail before so if it’s bad, SORRY.

thinking about when you accidentally call aaron “captain” in an interview the both of you are doing together because he won mvp. it makes him all feral inside and crazy. and aaron can’t wait to get you all alone as his family and friends are all around. so as soon as your family and friends finally leave he has you all to himself.

you were in your kitchen. as you were putting the dishes into the dishwasher. as you placed the last dish — suddenly aaron grabbed your waist. pinning you to the counter.

“yes?” you ask him. as you look up at him confused. all of a sudden he had you pinned to the counter and you bad no clue why.

“what was that earlier?” aaron asked you.

you tilted your head, until you remembered. was he talking about how you called him captain? did he dislike it?

“i just called you captain? thats what the fans and your teammates call you?” you say innocently. you really were saying it innocently. having no clue that it riled him up like that.

“but when you do it- it does something to me,” aaron whispers before his lips are on your skin. which makes your heart start to race.

“say it again darling.” aaron whispers.

“captain” you whisper.

aaron started to trail kisses down your neck. sucking on your sensitive spot. making a whimper escape from your lips, which made aaron smirk.

your lips connect, as the kiss becomes needy and lustful. aaron picked you up, your lips never leaving each other. as aaron brought you into the bedroom, laying you down on the bed.

aaron dragged his lips down your neck, taking your shirt off. before all of your clothes are off and suddenly he’s fucking you.

“fuck captain.” you stutter out as he thrusts into you. you grip the sheets as his thrusts become faster and deeper at your words.

“again.” aaron demands never slowing down.

“shit. i- captain please..” you pleas.

“what do you need princess?” aaron whispered in your ear as he wrapped his hand around your throat.

“i need to cum captain- please.” you begged.

“since your such a good girl for the captain. go ahead darling,” aaron says.

and you did. your brain was fuzzy, letting go as you finally relax. aaron fell beside you, as he wrapped his arms around your smaller frame.

[mattsunsdollie]

Masterlist

soft launch mood boards

Juan Soto

Anthony Volpe

Jude Bellingham

Matt Rempe

Kylian Mbappe

thinking about

Trent Alexander Arnold

Juan Soto

Anthony Volpe

Aaron Judge

Juan Soto

Ben Rice

Aaron Judge

smut fics

Kylian Mbappe Dreaming

Juan Soto Fantasize

Anthony Volpe Preferred Ending

Aaron Judge Wherever, Whenever

Anthony Volpe Helping Hand

Trend Alex. Arnold Tourist Attraction

Matt Rempe Cowboy’s Motivation

Matt Rempe Pt. 2 Cowboy Tamer

Ben Rice The Yankee Next Door

Anthony Volpe Lick the Icing

Anthony Volpe & Ben Rice Twice the Fun

the dating lottery

Anthony Volpe

Trent Alexander Arnold

Juan Soto

requests

Ernie Clement

Roman Anthony

Max Fried

Anthony Banda

Anthony Volpe

[slashingdisneypasta]

Some Dark!Musical Villain x Reader AU Ideas I'm Fiddling With:

⚠️ Warnings ⚠️ for: DARK THEMES. Age difference galore, fucking your teacher for good grades, sexual assault, innapropriate propositioning, grooming, posessive behaviour, more grooming, adoptive guardian having innapropriate feelings for ward, etc. Quite possibly some murder, too.

Professor Callahan x Reader- (Moulin Rouge AU (Duke Monroth and Satine AU)) You're only getting through law school because you're fucking your teacher, practically selling yourself for a certification- so when a guy your age who's sweet and kind and interested in you comes along, you're forced to break his heart. For a posessive Professor Callahan, and your grades.

Judge Turpin x Reader- (Legally Blonde AU (Prof Callahan and Elle Woods AU)) You're an assistant working under Turpin, the first female to work in such a position in town and you are so proud of yourself and believe Turpin to be an honourable gentleman who believes in you, too!- until he gets you alone one night and all that comes crashing down around you with an expected kiss.

Duke Monroth x Reader- (Phantom of the Opera AU (Erik and Christine Dae AU)) The Duke has slowly imposed himself upon you since you were 18, becoming your tutor in many things in high society. You think he's kind, helping you like this, and so it doesn't occur to you at all that he may intend to shape you into a perfect wife for him. So, when you meet a gentleman at a ball who sweeps you off your feet and you fall in love, you're s h o c k e d at the Duke's furious responce.

The Phantom x Reader- (Sweeney Todd AU(Judge Turpin and Johanna Todd AU)) How you ended up the Phantom's young ward, not even you knew. You didnt remember that far back. But he raised you and so you grew up quite sheltered- but t a l e n t e d. When you eventually come out to society, a mysterious figure in the paris opera, you're the object of many crushes and desires. It's not until one particular boy catches your attention, though, that Erik shows his distaste in the matter of other men being in your life. 

[chithereader]

first impressions / aaron hotchner

pairing: aaron hotchner x f!reader

word count: 2.6k

genre: fluff

cw: shy!reader / naive!reader, hotch has a crush!! a bit of mutual pining

a/n: i feel like this is a little all over the place but i love a pining hotch too much so i just had to post it!!!

Anderson has been doing his case reports in the pantry for the past four hours. Perhaps it does have its perks– one, he’s closer to the coffee machine and two, he’s farther away from all the chatter that is coming from the place he should actually be working in– at his desk. 

That’s because for the past four hours, the whole BAU team or what’s left of it– being Derek, Rossi, Garcia, and Reid– have been crowding the rows of desks directly across Hotch’s office. Occupying desks and chairs that are definitely not theirs. 

The rowdy bunch has been debating, gossiping, and most importantly, profiling their unit chief for the past four hours. Figuring out which applicants impress him, disappoint him, or straight-up irritate him– all through his office window. 

They’ve seen a total of seven applicants walk out of his office without a handshake, which is Hotch’s tell on whether he would consider that candidate or not. Out of those seven, two were way prettier than they were smart, three way too confident than they were competent, and two solely able to step foot in Quantico because of their last names. 

As for those that did walk out with a handshake were… well.. non-existent. If anyone were to ask someone from the team, they’d insist that they don’t need a new member. They don’t need anyone new to replace the beloved ones that have left. 

However, remembering the previous cases from the past two weeks– the truth is, they all felt a little like they were drowning. It felt like the more days that went by, the more cases there were to filter, solve, and close. The more killers there were to profile, hunt, and stop. The more reports there were to fill out, file, and submit; 

Each member of the team was doing double the workload of what they usually handle which had started to take its toll on their health, both physical and mental. And Hotch being the responsible leader that he is, recognized what had to be done. Especially after Reid fainted while running and Morgan’s strength notably faltering while in a tussle with an unsub. 

Now, the team didn’t know if it was perhaps because Hotch was measuring all these potential agents against Emily and JJ but none of them appeared up to his standard. Although accepting applications was his idea, judging by the way his brows had furrowed permanently they could tell Hotch was starting to regret it. Rossi, who knows Hotch a little better than everyone, could tell that he was about to give up. 

He could tell by the way he had his lips pressed in a thin line for the past forty minutes unwaveringly. 

He could tell by the way his shoulders were more obviously rising and falling, his breaths deeper- like he was calming himself. 

He could tell by the way Hotch would stand with clenched fists, unclenching them slowly on his sides. 

He could tell by the way Hotch was staring at the files, not reading. 

But just as Rossi was about to go up to Hotch’s office so they could all call it a night. To give his friend a pep talk about being there for each other and how tomorrow’s another day. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees someone entering the BAU walking briskly. 

The profiler in him skims over the figure quickly: 5 foot 3. Tiny. Mid-20s to early 30s. Young. Cardigan, jeans, sneakers, and a messenger bag. Is this kid Reid’s twin or what. Soulful round eyes, cute nose, pink lips. Pretty. 

“Uhm, hi.. I’m here for an interview? with uhm.. Mr– Agent Hotchner, sorry. Could someone point me to his office? Please?” Interesting. 

For some reason, none of the members of the team spoke, mainly surprised by the sudden addition of this stranger’s presence. One by one, like falling dominos, they slowly pointed to Hotch’s door. Simultaneously taking their precious time assessing whatever they can from what they’re seeing. 

Their observations didn’t stray far from what Rossi had seen. You’re pretty. That’s the first thing one can deduce. The incredibly-adorable kind of pretty, Garcia thinks. You seem smart, the same way anyone knows boy genius is smart– darting eyes like you’re thinking at a thousand miles per minute. Like you’re studying your surroundings, assessing threats, friendlies, and potential threats. 

You’re shy. You speak softly as if scared to intrude. Your movements are precise as if scared to impose. You stand still as if scared to take up more space than necessary. But your posture says otherwise. You may be introverted but your intelligence reeks in your diction and the way your head is held high, a part of you you’re sure of. Literally a lot like Reid, it’s creepy. 

You’re young. Young enough to steal pretty boy’s title as the baby of the team if you were to be accepted. To be honest, you look like a college student. Like a straight A, extra credit, shy and quiet type of student– and they weren’t wrong. 

You didn’t find anything weird about their behavior, the silence with which they responded to you. Probably because you were too nervous about your interview. Everyone knows the BAU is the team that’s the most difficult to get into, and that their unit chief’s the most intimidating man in the FBI that the Director himself avoids running into him altogether. 

So it was definitely a surprise when you were called in by Erin Strauss. A fresh graduate from the academy, you had no field experience at all. You’d only been working as a forensic scientist for the Organized Crime Division for a little less than a year, and more often than not you were in laboratories and morgues. Mainly there as a junior consultant than anything, having the more seasoned agents out in the field, on active crime scenes. 

Your gaze followed where they were pointing to, nerves permeating through your body. As you make your way up the stairs to get to his door, you’re trying to even your breathing- desperately. You don’t want to seem incompetent and inexperienced, pathetic even. 

Raising your hand to knock, you take in one last deep breath. Suddenly aware of all the people watching you from behind, possibly profiling you– you knock. Loudly. Like you were trying to prove something, show false strength and confidence. 

Maybe a little too loud, you realized. Shit. 

You’re in your own head when the door whips open and you see him. You knew he was good looking. You’ve seen him on TV and in pictures but god they did not do him justice. Just as you were processing how good-looking he was and how it would be a crime to embarrass yourself in front of him, your body decides it’s time to let out that big breath you inhaled before knocking. 

Now it appears you’re just blowing cool air into his chest, frozen while he stands there towering over you, most likely curious about why you knocked on his door so hard, why you are blowing cool air into his chest and more importantly, who the heck were you? 

“Hi, I’m, uh, here for the interview. For, uhm, the vacant position at the BAU team, Sir– Agent!” clearing your throat you scramble to make a good impression, or at least salvage what’s been established. 

Swallowing your pride, you bow your head in embarrassment, softening your voice as you say “Sorry, Agent Hotchner. What I meant to say is that I’m applying to be on your team. I’m here for the interview.” Looking up at him eye-to-eye, to hopefully convey your sincerity, you held his stare and his breathing stuttered. 

Let’s be honest. Hotch just went through four hours of his personal hell, getting to know people he doesn’t want to get to know. Asking questions, engaging in small talk, studying mannerisms and language– all to assess whether that person could be the much needed addition to his team. And the last thing he wants right now, as it nears the end of the work day, is another applicant to entertain. 

So Hotch, along with the rest of the team, becomes quite surprised when he moves his body out of the way to let you in his office when seconds ago he looked like he was about to give a very tempered advice at whoever just banged on his door. 

While he gestures for you to sit walking around his desk to sit on his own chair, he convinces himself that it’s because he is a good person and because he would do anything to help his team even if it meant enduring another painful interview. 

Definitely not because of your eyes. Or pouting lips. Or the adorable way blood rushed to your cheeks in embarrassment. Or your soft, soft voice that said his name in such a way that he’s dying to hear it again. 

Nope. It is simply his duty to lead and care for his team, and that means interviewing you. Somehow. 

-

It was quiet. You were nervous. It was obvious. He was waiting for you to talk but you’ve been staring at his tie instead of his face. You’re fiddling with your rings, wiping your palms on your jeans. And you were still very obviously trying to even your breaths. 

Observing these were enough to make him soften his voice slightly as he spoke, “Could you tell me about yourself?” He said slowly and softly– soft enough that if the air conditioning was a little louder you probably wouldn’t have heard him at all. 

Hotch became extremely conscious about coming across as demanding. He simply didn’t want to intimidate you further. He knew that if he wanted you to talk, open up, and present yourself justifiably, he would have to tread lightly. 

Now, he didn’t know when exactly he had started to care about whether he came off as intimidating or not, nor does he know why he’s the one adjusting for someone applying to be on his team– but apparently the times have changed. 

He’s brought out of his thoughts by your faint reply, “Well I, uh, have a bachelor in Psychology and in World Literature. Uhm, and.. I also have a Masters in Criminal Psychology but pursued Forensic Psychology for my doctorate.” You sounded almost hesitant to list all your achievements, which made him think you’ve probably been told once or twice that it is impolite to talk about such achievements to one’s face. 

The thought of someone invalidating your achievements, your brilliance infuriates him. You’ve achieved so much so early in your life, you deserve to be celebrated. There’s a subdued smile on his face, hopefully one you interpret as encouragement to continue. 

With a small smile gracing your face at his kind reaction, you added, “I only recently finished actually– I did it simultaneously with the academy’s progr–”

He cut you off, “Congratulations– sorry.” Too eager. Since when am I the one doing the impressing? “You like studying,” he observed. The smile on your face, although small, seemed genuine. Your face and your posture increasingly relaxed the more you talked.

You breathe out a laugh, “A little.. A little too much maybe.” Looking at your hands, rearranging the rings that adorn your nimble fingers. 

Hotch’s face has softened. He didn’t notice by how much, but it has relaxed a lot more the longer he observes you, everything about you. He commits your every movement to his memory, every mannerism, chalking it up to some part of his assessment. Words that describe you flashing in his head: introverted, intelligent, beautiful, accomplished– He hasn’t read your file. He gave up on reading files three candidates ago and has been relying on his profiling skills to get him through. 

But there’s something about you. Something that he can’t figure out, can’t name or explain. He felt it the very first time your eyes met, which isn’t even an hour ago but feels damn near to ages ago. He’s feeling it deep in his bones– a tingling feeling, an electric current, a rush of excitement. His heart has been beating slower yet louder. He feels it strongly in his chest. 

It had made him silent for a minute, so you look up from your hands subtly to check if he’s alright. For a second you were worried that he had said something that you just didn’t pick up on, and he’s been waiting for you to respond. 

But as your eyes meet again, he feels he’s suddenly in unfamiliar territory, treading powerful waters, and he can do nothing but go along with it. 

You’re surprised by the look in his eyes, but the sudden silence is at the forefront of your mind and you try to diffuse it, “Uhm–”

He cuts you off again, “Tell me something about yourself that I won’t read on your file.” He had the same idea- to talk. But for you, it was to diffuse the silence you thought was a dead giveaway of how disastrous your interview’s turning out to be. To him, it was to get somewhere, anywhere.

He’s got this weird feeling– a desire to get you talking more, even though soon enough there will be an awakened part of him that is certain there will be more talking in store for you two in the future. 

“What?” You don’t know why you said that. You understood what he said. Now you probably helped him affirm in his head that you’re ditzy and possibly the least reliable candidate to make agent. 

But..you just caught him looking at you like he was in love with you. Now you’re officially crazy. Dark, compelling eyes calling to you– it threw you off. It wasn’t even the usual sickening look of love, it was more of this serious, earnest yearning- almost pained.

- 

Now while the two of you were battling awkwardness and inexplicable feelings, the team was watching the whole thing unfold through his office window like a silent film. In fact, Garcia and Derek were already sharing a bowl of popcorn he ran to microwave the second they all saw Hotch’s entire existence falter at your presence. 

“What– what is happening? They’re barely talking!” Garcia worries. You’re tiny and adorable, and you look so kind and so incredibly soft and fragile. She just wants to protect you regardless of having met you less than briefly, minutes ago. 

“Baby girl, look closely. Both are just nervous, blushing idiots. They’ve just gotta push through this. Aren’t I right?” Derek’s smart mouth smugly adds. Looking to Rossi for any confirmation that he had guessed right: Hotch has a crush. 

Ever the skilled lip-reader, Reid comments “It’s been six whole minutes and Hotch has only asked her to tell him about herself.” He ponders for a moment, tilting his head “And judging by his relaxed jaw movements, gestures, and the decreased amount of strain his neck shows, I’d say he’s speaking softer than his usual volume.” 

Essentially Hotch’s best friend, every member looks to Rossi for his reaction. If they need any sort of confirmation that they’re reading their boss man right, they only ever have to read his right hand man Rossi who wears how he feels and what he thinks like Garcia wears her individuality. 

But Rossi’s only looking back at Reid with twinkling eyes and a smug smile growing bigger by the second. He lets out a quiet laugh, turning back to see Hotch smiling at the girl who is unaware of the fool grinning at her, “Addition to the team my ass– he'll be adding her to his life."

[burkhxrts]

thinking about couch sex with aaron judge in your pretty house that’s decorated for christmas and people drive by and catch you through one of your windows <3

you almost never have your blinds shut (even after your mothers many many attempts.) you like the sunlight that fills the room and you and aaron can’t help but people watch all day. 

the thought never occurs to you when aaron comes home after a long and tiring game, burying his head into your shoulder and venting about the things the team did wrong that night. he also doesn’t hesitate to flip you on your stomach, ass in the air and face buried into the soft cushions of the couch. 

you don’t protest, your body melting at his familiar touch, broken moans spilling from your lips with each harsh thrust, the only sounds echoing through your house are his loud grunts and the sinful slaps of his hips slamming against your ass. 

aaron pulls you up suddenly, wrapping one hand around your throat while the other snakes around your waist. he chuckles lowly into your ear, thrusting into you with a pace and makes you see stars.

“looks like we have an audience.” he murmurs, and you snap your eyes open, eyes locking onto a pair of young women driving by your house with a painfully slow pace, their jaws dropped and eyes blown wide. 

You wriggle in his arms slightly, reaching behind you and grasping at the back of his neck tightly. “w-we should s-stop-“ 

“no.”  his voice is firm, and he can’t help but pick up his pace, his thick dick filling you so well it’s practically imprinted in your soft walls.

“a-aj, they can see us-“ 

“i don’t give a fuck. let ‘em watch. let ‘em see how good you take my cock.” 

his response makes you whine, and you can’t help but clench around him tightly. the thought alone makes you want to cum, but the thought that he enjoys it too makes you squeeze around his cock tighter than before. 

“you like that? you like people knowing you take my dick like a good girl?” 

your thighs tremble, and you can’t bite back the needy whimper that escapes you, your cunt wrapped around him tightly as you gush all over his cock. 

your brain is practically mush, so immersed in your  own orgasm you don’t hear aaron groan loudly in your ear, dick twitching as he cums inside you. 

after a few minutes, he pulls out, removing his hand from your throat and wrapping both of his arms around your waist firmly, burying his head into the crook of your neck and peppering soft kisses to your skin. 

“they’re gone.” he mutters, placing a soft kiss to the side of your head. 

“y’know if i knew you liked being watched i would’ve done this a long time ago.” 

[yankeelxver]

౨ৎ QUINN’S LIBRARY

“the rust that grew between telephones.”

anthony volpe

anthony rizzo

cody bellinger

aaron judge

[mvpswift]

pictures of aaron you’d have in your camera roll!

[monzabee]

I saw you're open to requests and I had an idea for nanny!reader x Hotch, if you think it might be something!

What about Hotch coming back to find Nanny & Jack have taken in a stray cat or dog "temporarily" and the hijinks that comes with that? Adapt however you want, I just love the idea of Hotch with some cute animals and Nanny!reader!! love the series!

judge - a. hotchner

criminal minds masterlist || part of the nanny series

Summary: aaron is outvoted by you and jack when you try to decide whether to adopt a puppy and there is a big decision to make—what to name him.   

Pairing: aaron hotchner x nanny!reader

Word Count: 1.4k 

Warnings: none  

Author’s Note: okay a quick little note here that this was extremely fun to work on and i loved every second of it so thank you anon for your request!! the feedback on this series has been nothing but lovely to see so thank you so much to you guys, and a friendly reminder that my requests are open and i'd love some more ideas to work on!!

Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms. 

“He’s sleeping, again.” Jack whines silently, looking at the snoozing puppy on the couch. He dramatically throws himself onto a nearby loveseat, which earns a chuckle from you.  

Slicing through the tape of another box, you shrug as you give him a sheepish look. “He’s a puppy, what did you expect him to do most of the day?” 

Jack sighs, propping his chin up on his hands as he watches the tiny golden retriever twitch in his sleep. “I thought he'd want to play all the time,” he mutters, eyes filled with a mix of disappointment and fondness. 

You smile, setting aside a few books from the moving box. “Give him some time, bud. He’s still getting used to his new home.” 

Jack huffs but doesn’t argue. Instead, he leans forward, his fingers gently scratching behind the puppy’s ear. The little dog lets out a contented sigh, shifting slightly but staying asleep. The excited look he gives you in return tugs at your hear in a way you cannot explain. 

The front door clicks open, and you hear the familiar rustling of keys being set on the entry table. Aaron walks in, taking in the sight before him—the half-unpacked boxes, his son pouting dramatically, and you kneeling beside them with an amused smile. “Let me guess,” he says, loosening his tie. “He's still sleeping?” 

Jack nods solemnly. “All. The. Time.” 

Aaron exhales a quiet chuckle, stepping further into the room. His gaze softens when it lands on you, then shifts to the tiny puppy curled up on the couch. He shakes his head, still pretending to be annoyed that he was outvoted on the whole ‘getting a dog’ decision. 

“I hate to say I told you so,” he says, taking off his suit jacket. “But I told you so.” 

You roll your eyes, grinning up at him. “Oh, come on. Look at him,” you say, gesturing toward the sleeping pup. “How can you not love him already?” 

Aaron gives you a knowing look but doesn't argue. Instead, he walks over and reaches out, running a careful hand over the puppy’s soft fur. The little dog stirs slightly, stretching his tiny paws before nestling back into sleep. 

Jack brightens up as he excitedly turns to his father. “That means he likes you, Dad!” 

Aaron hums, pretending to consider it. “Or he’s just too tired to care and he can’t control his reflexes quite yet.” 

Jack giggles, and you shake your head with a soft laugh. “Well,” you say, tilting your head at Aaron, “looks like you're outvoted again. We all love him, so you kind of have to, too.” 

Aaron sighs in mock defeat. “Guess that’s how democracy works in this house.” 

“Pretty sure it is how it works, dad.” Jack shrugs, leaning over the side of the couch to scratch the back of the puppy’s ears again. “It’s the control of a group by the majority of its members.” 

Aaron turns to you with his eyebrows raised, “I though you and Reid were going to work with Jack on his division.” 

You shrug sheepishly as you offer him a small smile, “We also covered some good old political science, he is a very good student.” 

Jack grins proudly. “Uncle Reid says it’s good to learn about different subjects!” 

Aaron shakes his head with a chuckle, rubbing a hand over his face. “Of course he did.” 

You laugh, nudging Aaron playfully. “Face it, Mister Hotchner. You’ve got a little genius on your hands.” 

Jack beams at the praise, but his focus quickly shifts back to the puppy, who lets out a tiny yawn before curling deeper into the couch cushions. You and Aaron watch Jack as he silently keeps whispering names to the sleeping puppy.  

Aaron turns to you with a confused look on his face, silently asking what’s going on. “He’s trying to pick a name, but the puppy doesn’t react to any of them, so none of them ‘seem right’.”  

“None of them seem right?” Aaron echoes. “It’s a dog.” 

“We’ve gone through every single name in Lords of the Rings,” You sigh, turning back to the box in front of you for a second. “Every. Single. One.”  

Aaron exhales sharply, amusement flickering in his eyes. "And none of them stuck?" 

Jack shakes his head dramatically. “He didn’t even react to Frodo! Or Sam! Not even Gandalf, Dad!” 

Aaron huffs out a laugh, sitting down beside Jack. “Well, maybe he’s just not a Lord of the Rings fan.” 

Jack gasps, clutching his chest like he’s been personally betrayed. “Dad, that’s blasphemy.” 

You snort, biting back a laugh as you glance at Aaron, who gives you an exasperated but fond look. “You and Reid really did a number on him,” he mutters. 

You shrug. “We just exposed him to good literature. Is that a crime, Mister Hotchner?” 

Aaron gives you a pointed look but doesn't argue. Instead, he turns his attention back to Jack, who is now resting his chin on the couch beside the puppy, deep in thought. “Maybe he needs a name that means something,” Jack muses aloud. “Like… something special to him.” He thinks for a moment, then starts listing of names again, “Trevor, Crookshanks, Scabbers...” 

“What is it this time?” Aaron asks in a low voice, leaning towards you.” 

You glance up at Jack, slowly shaking your head. “Harry Potter.”  

“...Hedwig!” Jack tries again. 

“Ah.” Aaron nods in understanding. 

“Dad!” Jack whines, “He doesn’t like any of them.” 

“Well, buddy,” Aaron starts, taking a few steps towards the couch, “maybe we should give him some time, I’m sure the name will come to us.” 

“He didn’t even like Harry Potter,” Jack mumbles sadly.  

Aaron offers his son a sympathetic look, “We shouldn’t judge people on their choice of literature. Judging people is a bad thing, Jack.” Aaron continues, “It’s shallow, and you shouldn’t let judge a book by it’s—” 

Jack frowns, clearly unimpressed with the lecture, but before he can protest, a soft little whuff comes from the couch. 

The three of you freeze. 

The puppy, who had previously been completely uninterested in Jack’s long list of names, suddenly lifts his tiny head and gives a sleepy blink. His ears twitch, and then—shockingly—his tail gives a sluggish little wag. 

Jack’s mouth drops open. “Did you see that?” 

Aaron looks just as surprised as you feel. “What just happened?” 

Jack scrambles up onto his knees. “He reacted to something! What was I saying?” 

You replay the conversation in your head, eyes going wide as you realize. “Mister Hotchner—what were you saying? Right before he reacted.” 

Aaron blinks, then crosses his arms. “I was saying that judging people is bad—” 

The puppy lets out another soft little whuff and wags his tail again. 

Jack gasps. “Judge!” he exclaims. 

Aaron freezes. “Wait—” 

“Judge!” Jack tries again, grinning. The puppy’s tail wags harder. 

Aaron groans, pinching the bridge of his nose as you burst out laughing. “Oh my god. He likes Judge.” 

Jack practically vibrates with excitement. “Dad, did you hear that? He likes it! He likes Judge!”  

Aaron mutters something under his breath before sighing deeply, rubbing a hand over his face. “We are in big trouble,” he finally says, shaking his head. 

You bite back a grin. “Hey, don’t look at me. You were the one who told him he could have a puppy if we moved into a house. I was just a willing advocate.” You laugh, nudging him playfully. “Come on, think about it—Special Supervisory Agent Hotchner and Judge, reporting for duty? Has a nice ring to it.” 

Aaron gives you a long, unimpressed look, but the tiny smirk tugging at the corner of his lips betrays him. Before he can respond, Judge lets out a sleepy yawn, his little paws stretching forward before he snuggles back into Jack’s lap, tail wagging contentedly.  

Jack looks up at his father with wide, pleading eyes. “Can we keep it, Dad? Please?” 

Aaron sighs, already knowing he’s lost this battle. “Yeah, buddy,” he relents, ruffling Jack’s hair. “Judge it is.” 

Jack cheers, throwing his arms around the tiny puppy. Judge wags his tail happily, oblivious to the chaos he’s already bringing into the Hotchner household. 

You lean back on your hands, grinning as you glance at Aaron. “Told you democracy wins.” 

Aaron huffs a quiet laugh, shaking his head in mock defeat. “Yeah, yeah,” he mutters, but as he watches Jack cuddle the puppy, his expression softens. “Big trouble,” he repeats, but this time, there’s warmth in his voice. 

[mattsunsdollie]

how would you guys feel if i started doing dating hc, like an extension mood boards. it would consist of like how you two met, started dating, etc.

[mariasont]

Need a bimbo assistant reader x hotch fic where the team is making fun of hotch for having no sense of humour until we say smth like "what are you talking about? Hotch is hilarious!" And everyone just turns to hotch like "wtf??" To which he immediately changes the subject. But surprise surprise he's only trying to be funny around us to be charming 😛

The Funny Thing About Him - A.H

a/n: obsessed with this request bc this is so canon, i just know mans is saving ever stupid pun he sees on his blackberry to tell bimbo reader lololo

but thank you so much for the request lovely!

masterlist

pairings: aaron hotchner x bimbo!assistant!reader

warnings: alcohol consumption, flirtiness galore, hotch being whipped and not knowing it yet, the team being a menace and lowkey bullying hotch, unintentional simping, bimbo!reader glazing hotch's sense of humor

wc: 1.9k

It was a rare thing for the team to spend time together outside of work, and even rarer to do so in a place like this. A dive bar that looked like it hadn't seen a deep clean since the Bush administration. But Garcia had insisted — no, demanded —that they all check out what she had referred to as her second office. 

So here you were, crammed into a tiny booth with the team, surrounded by mismatched furniture, sticky tabletops, and walls that had somehow absorbed the faint tang of stale beer as if it were part of their structural integrity. But after a round of drinks, then appetizers, then more drinks, it had become kind of charming in a deeply questionable way.

Everyone had seemed to have loosened up. Hotch, naturally, was the exception. Seated at the edge of the booth, he looked almost hilariously out of place, like someone had photoshopped him into the scene. His posture was straight as ever, his suit jacket neatly draped on the back of his chair, and fingers loosely curled around a glass of whiskey. 

He was listening, though, as he always did, dark eyes flicking to whoever was speaking, his small nods he only thing that gave him away.

You, however, were hyper-aware of Hotch for reasons that had absolutely nothing to do with professionalism. The small booth had left you wedged between him and Garcia, and you couldn't decide if it was a blessing or a curse. On one hand, it meant you were close enough to feel the heat radiating from him, smell the woodsy, expensive cologne he always wore, and notice the little ways his expression softened just a hair every time you caught him glancing your way.

On the other hand, well, all those things were very distracting. 

Like, very distracting.

Garcia was mid-story — something dramatic about a terrible date, an allergic reaction, and a wig — but you weren't really listening. You were trying, of course, but your mind seemed too busy cataloging the way your elbow accidentally brushed against Hotch's every time you shifted, or how your knees kept grazing under the table.

Each time, you'd mutter a quick, oops, sorry, and each time, you absolutely did not mean it.

You liked testing the boundaries with him, liked noticing his reactions. In fact, you liked being able to notice most things about him, the little details no one else seemed to catch.

Like how he had this funny way of pressing his lips together when he was reading something particularly dense, like he was silently judging whoever wrote it. Or how he always seemed to have a spare hair tie ready in his desk drawer because yours snapped at the worst possible moments, and somehow, he always had it ready right when you needed it, like he'd been waiting for you to ask. 

Or how, right now, he kept subtly hovering a hand behind your head every time you leaned back in laughter, like he was ready to stop you from accidentally smacking the back of your head against the hard wood of the booth.

It made you feel warm and fizzy, like you’d downed one too many sugary cocktails. Which, honestly, you might have.

"Hotch," Garcia suddenly blurted, dragging you out of your thoughts. "Back me up here, there's no way this is the worst first day you've ever heard of."

He blinked, seemingly caught off guard. "I... I suppose it's up there."

Morgan grinned and shook his head. "Hotch, your definition of worst first date is probably someone not knowing how to file their taxes. You’ve got zero imagination for this stuff."

You glanced at Hotch, who just shrugged, not even bothering to defend himself.

No imagination, Morgan had said, and for some reason, you couldn’t help but try to picture it, Hotch on a date.

At first, the idea felt completely out of place, like imagining a celebrity shopping for milk. But then, the image started to take shape — he’d show up early, wearing one of those perfectly tailored suits that made him look like he belonged on the cover of GQ. 

He’d pull out your chair, open every door, and probably order something practical, like steak or chicken. And even if the conversation started stiffly, he’d listen so intently, like every word you said mattered. By the end of the night, you’d be completely smitten.

Not that you’d thought about it or anything.

“I think you’re underselling him,” JJ said with a knowing smile, glancing at Hotch. “He might not have the most obvious imagination, but he has a way of surprising people.”

Emily snorted. “Yeah, right. Hotch probably schedules his surprises. Like, plan to laugh sometime between 8:00 and 8:15 PM.”

Morgan grinned, leaning back in his chair. “Hotch doesn’t laugh. He probably just stares at people mid-joke, makes them uncomfortable, and calls it a win.”

Hotch arched a brow. “I wasn’t aware my sense of humor was under scrutiny tonight.”

“Oh, come on,” Morgan said, his grin widening. “You’ve gotta admit, Hotch, you’re not exactly cracking jokes left and right. Your idea of funny is telling someone they’re late for work when they’re actually on time.”

“That was funny,” Hotch deadpanned.

The table erupted into laughter, and even Emily shook her head, biting back a grin. “You’re proving his point, you know.”

“What are you guys talking about? Hotch is��hilarious.”

The table fell silent. Every single person turned to look at you like you’d just claimed the sky was green. Even Hotch stiffened beside you, his glass halfway to his lips.

Morgan’s head tilted, his grin fading into something more incredulous. “What did you just say?”

“Hotch?” Emily asked, her face the picture of astonishment. “Did you… did you bribe her to say that?”

“No!” you said quickly, holding up your hands like you were defending yourself. “I mean it! He’s, like, really funny!”

“Hotch?” Garcia repeated, looking at you like you’d sprouted a second head. “Our Hotch?”

“How can you guys not think he’s funny? I laugh at his jokes all the time.”

Hotch, who up until this point had been composed despite the teasing, suddenly looked… well, less composed. His lips parted like he was going to say something, but then he clamped them shut, the faintest tinge of pink creeping up his neck and settling across his cheeks.

Emily smirked, glancing between you and Hotch. “Okay, now I have to hear these so-called jokes you think are hilarious.”

You turned back to them, still looking baffled. “Well, I can’t just, like, repeat  them! It’s all in the timing. Hotch just… he has a vibe. You wouldn’t get it.”

The team erupted into laughter, but you just sighed dramatically, crossing your arms and turning back to Hotch. “Seriously, Aaron, tell them.”

Hotch cleared his throat, setting his glass down a little too forcefully.

 “So, Garcia,” he said quickly, his voice normal but his ears tinged red, “about this terrible first date —”

Hotch shot you a quick, almost panicked glance, but you pretended not to notice. Either way, you popped the fry into your mouth and smiled at him like you hadn’t just completely upended his reputation in front of the entire team.

Eventually the bar had mostly emptied out, including your team, the once-loud chatter replaced by the occasional creak of chairs and muffled laughter from the remaining patrons. You stood by the door, fiddling with the zipper of your jacket as another rush of cold air blew in when someone left. The chill bit at your cheeks. It wasn't the warmest coat in the world, but it was adorable, which you felt was more important.

Before you could even complain, however, Hotch stepped forward, placing himself squarely between you and the wind.

"Did you have fun tonight?"

You beamed at him, fingers idly playing with the end of your scarf. You took a small step closer, partly to escape the wind, partly for reasons you didn't feel you needed to disclose.

"Always," you said, tilting your head to examine him closely. "Did you?"

He nodded. "I did."

You blinked up at him. "Really? Even with everyone giving you such a hard time? I mean, they were relentless tonight.”

“They can’t help themselves." He huffed out a soft laugh, his breath misting in the cold air. Then, with a dry edge, he added, “And to be fair, I think I handled it better than you handled the fries Garcia stole from your plate.”

You giggled, covering your mouth with one hand.

“Hey! That was a crime! I had every right to be upset!” Hotch chukled softly, shaking his head. “See?” you said, poking him in the arm. “You’re funny! You are! Why aren’t you like that around everyone else?”

Hotch glanced at you, the corner of his mouth twitching faintly. “I think I just… read the room.”

Hotch’s vague answer left you with more questions than clarity, but you didn’t push him. The more you thought about it, the more certain you became —he was different with you.

Hotch didn’t crack jokes in the bullpen — not unless you were there. He didn’t tell silly stories during late-night case reviews — not unless it was just the two of you staying behind in the office, sorting through files. Like that time he told you about his college roommate, you’d laughed so hard you couldn’t breathe, and he’d chuckled softly, shaking his head like he hadn’t expected you to find it so funny.

Or the way he’d once walked by your desk and dropped a note on it that said, if it gets any colder in here, we’ll be solving frostbite cases next. You still had it tucked away in your drawer.

The thought made you feel a bit warmer, like you’d just downed a champagne flute in one gulp. Your cheeks hurt from how hard you were smiling, and before you could stop yourself, the words tumbled out.

“You know, you’re the best boss ever. Have I told you that before?”

Hotch turned his head toward you, one eyebrow raised. “What do you want?” 

“Nothing!” you said quickly, your grin widening. “I’m just being honest!”

Hotch raised an eyebrow. "I hope you remember that next time you're twenty minutes late to a meeting because there was a sale at Bloomingdale’s."

You gave him your sweetest, most innocent smile.

“Well, maybe if you came with me to the sale, you wouldn’t have to wait twenty minutes for me to show up.” You leaned a little closer, your voice dropping into a teasing sing-song. “And I bet you’d look so cute holding my shopping bags.”

Hotch rolled his eyes, his expression impossibly dry. “I think I’ll leave the shopping bag modeling to Reid. He’s probably got the legs for it.”

You burst into a fit of giggles, covering your mouth with your gloved hands. “Okay, now you’re just messing with me!”

He exhaled a small laugh, finally relenting. “Alright, let’s go before you freeze.”

Still laughing, you looped your arm back through his and gave it a little squeeze as the two of you walked through the door. 

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[cimmanonrowl]

Boyfriend

Nothing in this world has ever baffled Aaron Hotchner more than your questionable taste in men. And after witnessing firsthand how shitty your boyfriend was, he made it his night’s mission to steal your mind from him and show you what you’ve been missing all along.

Pairing: aaron hotchner x bau!reader

Theme: smut heaven

Contents: unprotected rough sex, age gap, dom!aaron, breeding, filming, powerplay: boss/employee relationship, implied cheating.

You were the most sensible member of the BAU as far as Aaron is concerned.

In almost 5 years of working together, he’s never had a problem with you or your work ethic. You’re intelligent and logical, and you never made any rash decision that put yourself or anyone on the team in danger, nor did you ever compromise a case for any reckless, unaccounted reason. Years passed and all the doubts he initially had about you melted into a puddle of respect and adoration. And since then, you never heard him or anyone else contradict your arguments.

In your defense, being the youngest in the FBI gave you the unabating urge to follow orders and protocols as they were, to always play by the book exactly the way you were taught in the Academy. Or maybe because Morgan was right when he teasingly profiled you as someone with people-pleasing tendencies— especially to Hotch and Rossi, given they are higher-ups and had the longest experience in the Bureau.

Nothing was wrong with that, of course. You’re good at what you’re doing. You’re productive; and a valuable member of the team. Slowly over the past years, you’ve gained everyone’s trust and respect. And you’ve been made aware that everyone always has your back…

Unless the topic is your relationships.

“There’s a new Korean barbecue place down the block, do you want to join us?” You stopped midway through arranging your weekly reports as Spencer leaned against your table.

Glancing around the bullpen, you noticed Penelope and Derek standing by Emily’s desk, watching you and Spencer subtly from a distance. You almost snorted when Emily and Penelope scampered to look away, while Derek only crossed his arms and raised one of his eyebrows— like he always does when he’s pissed.

You leaned towards Spencer, whispering. “They know, don’t they?”

“Garcia knows,” He whispered back promptly. “Hey, don’t look at me like that. I didn’t tell anyone.”

You stared at him suspiciously, eyes squinting a little. It’s just a joke. If there’s anyone in the team that you trust with your little secrets, that’s Spencer. But you’re curious if he knows how Penelope got wind of your secret date tonight. As far as you know, Spencer was the only person who knew about this.

“I don’t judge you...” He replied with a simple shrug. “You know, people who’ve grown attached to unhealthy relationships find it difficult to leave. Given your people-pleasing tendencies, I know you’re holding onto the chance of proving yourself to him. And you’re still waiting for him to realize your worth. It’s sad actually, now that I remember that.”

You gasped in offense and disbelief, making you slap your palm on his shoulder. While Spencer only grinned and chuckled at your reaction.

“Wait till you hear what Morgan has to say.”

You shivered at the thought. Derek has always been protective of you. Ever since you joined the team, he’s claimed that you’re his little sister. Not that it was a problem, of course, you absolutely love having an older brother. It’s just that… you don’t know how to act whenever he’s pissed because you never had a brother in the first place.

As you wandered your gaze to where your friends were standing, a worried frown lidded your expression. Derek hasn’t moved an inch and is pretty much still watching you, obviously seething in annoyance. On his side stood Emily and Penelope, both looking at you with guilty faces.

“He’s going to kill me,” you mumbled to yourself.

Spencer could only snort. “Yeah, right. I wonder why...”

You turned to him in resignation, heaving a deep sigh as you did so. You focused on arranging the folders on your desk before hitting him square on the chest with the documents.

“Enjoy the weekend, Dr. Reid,” You bid him goodnight before walking away.

“What about Korean barbecue?” He called out, raising both his arms in the middle of the office.

You whirled around to face them, still taking small steps backward.

“I’ve got a date!” You announced with a cheeky grin.

The door to Aaron’s office was left open as usual. From your desk earlier, you saw him working on some paperwork due for this week. There was a mountain of it on his table. And you saw him several times leaning on his chair and massaging his temple— not that you’re watching.

“Sir?” You knocked softly on the door surface to get his attention. He was focused on the document he was reading, his eyebrows tugged together in a scowl.

When he heard your voice, though, he glanced up and almost immediately caught your eyes.

“Hey…” He greeted shortly, smiling as he leaned on his swivel chair. “Come in.”

You mirrored his smile as you handed him the documents. “My reports, sir...”

He gave you a brief nod, thanking you promptly after accepting the pile of folders. You stood in front of him for a moment, taking in every bit of his features: his clean-cut hair, the dark circles under his eyes, the light stubble on his jaw— how can someone be that attractive while under stress? Good God.

“Everything okay?”

You blinked in confusion. “Sir?”

“You’re staring,” He pointed out, chuckling. “Are you visiting that Korean barbecue with Reid?”

Your eyes automatically darted to the glass window, seeing that everyone was still waiting for you at Emily’s table. Even JJ was there, listening to Morgan ranting in frustration.

“No, I have a date later…” You admitted shyly, feeling your cheeks heating up.

“Ah…” His eyebrows perked in surprise. “But I heard Garcia wanting you to come with them, do they know about this date?”

You pursed your lips before shaking your head… then nodding. 

“They didn’t know— well Reid knew— then Garcia— then now everyone else.”

Aaron nodded slowly, trying to understand your point. “And I assume you don’t want them to know?”

A deep sigh unknowingly escaped your lips.

As much as the team tries not to profile each other, it comes out instinctively. One time after discovering your ex-boyfriend was commenting publicly on other women’s bikini posts, you got so distracted that Emily had to pull you aside to make sure you were alright. Then another time when you came across the secret account he made to continue flirting with other women, you got questioned by Hotch for being so distracted.

They were so adamant in knowing what was bothering you. This is why you always try not to bring your personal issues to work.

“I’m going out with James...”

As soon as those words came out, Aaron looked stunned.

“Come again?”

“James…” You mumbled, your voice nearly cracking in embarrassment. “We’re seeing each other… again…”

It would’ve been better if the floor cracked open and swallowed you alive. The way Aaron was staring at you in disbelief was enough to shrink you in shame. You could even see the disappointment in his eyes, which is way worse than being judged in your opinion.

“The guy who dumped you after knowing you’re earning more than him and thinks women should quit their jobs after marriage?” He asked, scowling.

“Nope, that’s Benedict.”

Aaron heaved a deep sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. The sight was so funny you almost laughed at his face.

“Is James the guy who comments on bikini pictures?”

“That’s Mark, sir…” You smiled awkwardly, scratching your ear. “He… he’s the one with the… video…”

“The one who cheated on you and filmed everything?” His scowl deepened even more. Is that even possible?

“Yes... sir... but he said he changed— okay— time to leave.”

You bolted out of his office. With how his eyes turned sharp as he heard your argument, you knew you just pushed his button.

Now it’s a funny memory, but Aaron Hotchner used to be your dream. Everyone in the BAU knew you spent your first year crushing hard on him. Until a random weekend bar hopping crushed your dream. Truth or Dare. When Morgan dared Aaron to make out with the young lady by the bar counter, you learned Aaron doesn’t like younger girls.

That made you step back. He’d obviously like career women; the mature ones, elegantly gorgeous, maybe with a good figure, curves in the right places, big boobs—

All men are the same. What do you expect, honestly? That’s what your ex-boyfriends like the most. Also their reason for cheating on you. You’re not their type, and you shouldn’t act too surprised because you knew that in the first place. Or that they have needs to fulfill. Apparently, you lack both.

“Hey, you okay?” The warmth of Aaron’s palm pulled you out of your reverie. You turned to him fast, blinking in confusion.

“Y-yes, sir. Were you saying something?”

He pursed his lips a little, nodding towards the view outside the car window.

“We’ve been here for five minutes.”

“Oh…” Heat crept on your cheeks after taking a peek, realizing you’ve already arrived in your apartment building. “Right. I’m sorry, sir. I was just thinking.”

“Of that dumbfuck asshole?”

You chuckled awkwardly, baffled by his sudden choice of words. He’s never the type who curses out of nowhere. “Sir?” 

“He made you wait for three fucking hours,” He retorted, his voice calm— dangerously so. “The one you call ‘boyfriend.’”

“He is my boyfriend…”

He stared at you, unamused. “After everything he did?”

“Well…”

At least you know everyone was right: Derek, Penelope, Emily… Aaron. Maybe you’re a hopeless case. For someone decently smart, you’re a complete idiot. You should’ve seen this coming; these men will never change. There’s no way a smart woman would allow this to happen again.

The worst part is that you couldn’t even call your friends to pick you up after getting ditched. You just missed the last train, you couldn’t book a cab, and they’re all hanging out in a Korean restaurant— except Aaron. Which led him to bring you home instead.

“What? You'd still defend him?”

After a few lingering moments of just staring at each other, you decided to offer him a small smile instead of answering. You thanked him for the ride, bid him a good night, and told him to spend his weekend resting. With a sweet yet polite smile, you stepped out of his car.

But Aaron got out before you could even walk away, following you inside the building.

“I swear, I’m fine. You should go home, Aaron,” you insisted, trying to keep your voice steady.

Aaron walked in, trailing behind you, his presence and smell immediately filling your small apartment. You closed the door behind him and turned to find him standing in the middle of your living room, his gaze sweeping over the space before settling back on you.

“I’ll rest when I know you’re okay,” He gave you a small, almost imperceptible smile. “Nice apartment.”

“Thanks…” You gave him a tight-lipped smile. “Can I get you...?”

Your words died in your throat as you found yourself staring into the concerned eyes of Aaron Hotchner. He stood there, hands tucked into his pockets, his expression stoic and something you couldn’t quite place.

“You know, I never understood your preference,” He began cautiously, his eyes directed at you. “You never made good decisions with guys, don’t you?”

“I know that, Aaron.”

“They’re all idiots. Does that turn you on?”

“W-what?” You squeaked, your heart racing as the words sank in.

“Does being treated like trash turns you on?”

A warm tear licked your cheek, and you quickly wiped it away, feeling embarrassed and hurt by his words. Aaron didn’t move an inch but the way his eyes traveled along your face melted his irritation a little. Silently, he reached out and pulled you into an embrace, his arms solid and warm around your figure.

“Fucking hell…” He mumbled against your hair. “I try so fucking hard to be good to you and you let those schoolboys make you cry?”

You buried your face in his chest. “You’re the one making me cry right now.”

“It’s because I’m right.”

“I don’t need your lecture, Aaron Hotchner.”

You pulled back slightly to look at him. Your gaze collided, and you saw something shift in his eyes. The worried frown was still there, but there was something else— something more intense, subtly primal.

“If you’re expecting an apology then you’re wrong.” The muscle on his jaw ticked before he leaned toward your ear. “You know I can treat you so much better. I’d never make you wait and let someone else take you home. I can spend the entire night proving that to you.”

Without thinking, you leaned in and pressed your lips to his. The kiss was soft at first, tentative, as if testing the waters and his reaction. But then you felt him respond, his hand moving to cup the back of your head, deepening the kiss.

You melted into him, the warmth of his body and the firmness of his touch causing intrinsic need to erupt at the pit of your stomach. The kiss grew messier, wetter, and uncoordinated. His hands found the crest of your breast, caressing you through your shirt with gentle yet possessive strokes. 

He broke the kiss, his breath ragged. “Do you want this?” he asked, his voice low and hoarse.

You nodded immediately, your own breath coming in short gasps. “I do, god, yes…”

You shivered at his touch, pressing your body closer to him. You found yourself unbuttoning your dress shirt, eagerly so, making Aaron smirk as his eyes followed your clumsy movements.

Once undone, you quickly threw your shirt on the ground. A satisfied glint flashed in Aaron’s eyes before he captured your lips again. This time, more urgent. You felt his arms snaking down your body.

“Should’ve known you’re a dirty slut...” A low chuckle rambled in his throat, his lips leaving soft kisses on your jaw. “Did you wear this red lingerie all day? Were you expecting that schoolboy to fuck you tonight, sweetheart?”

“Y-yes…” You moaned.

“Yes what, slut? You’re wearing this all day or that you wanted him to fuck you tonight?” He asked mockingly. “Tell me, baby, have you ever been fucked by a real man?”

“Aaron, please—” You let out a gasp, feeling your cunt getting wetter every second you spent untouched. “The left door– need you– please—”

“How greedy.”

Effortlessly, he perched you on his muscular arms, carrying you straight to the bedroom. All while you clung to him, your fingers tangling in his hair, your heart pounding with lust and anticipation.

He dropped you on the bed, his eyes dark with need. He took a moment to scan you, his gaze sweeping over your body with reverence.

“Take that pants off now. I want to see everything.”

The coldness of his voice sent tingles to your wet cunt. You quickly scrambled to your knees, your trembling hands stiffly finding their way to the button of your slacks. The thin fabric slid down your legs, exposing more of your body. You feel so exposed, all for his eyes.

“Fuck...” He breathed, palming his hard cock through his pants. “I always imagined how you’d look naked. You have no idea how much restraint it took me not to touch you every time we shared a room.”

A coil in your stomach tightened as he loosened his tie, carelessly tossing it on the ground. Now he’s left with his work shirt and pants, and the contrast of your nakedness alone excites you even more.

He stepped closer to the edge of the bed, his pointer finger tilting your chin upward. Just enough for you to meet his eyes.

“Didn’t you say you have a boyfriend, sweetheart?” His lips trailed from your lips to your cheek, slowly, teasingly down to your jaw.

You whimpered. “Hmm… yeah…”

“Care to remind me what that boy did to you?” He taunted, his voice menacingly low. 

The warmth of his big, calloused hands explored the softness of your bare skin. You moaned softly, feeling his thumb and pointer finger rubbing one of your nipples through the thin fabric of your bra.

“He-” You swallowed thickly, clamping your thighs shut. “H-he cheated on me…”

Aaron hummed mockingly, tutting. “And you still want him here right now?”

“No…” You said quickly, blinking dazedly at him. “Want you, Aaron.”

“Is that how you talk to your boss, sweetheart?” He leaned backward, withdrawing his hand from touching you, one of his thick eyebrows raised in question. “For a cheating slut, I’d say you’re quite demanding.”

“Y-you, sir. Want you, please... please, fuck me, sir.”

You ignored the wetness pooling in between your thighs. His eyes were dark and piercing as he took your nakedness in, while you stared back innocently. You reached for his pants, resting your palm on his clothed pelvis.

“I’m sorry, sir,” You said in a whisper, quietly unbuckling his belt as you did so. “I promise, I won’t tell anyone.”

“You better keep your promise, little girl.”

You gave him a sweet smile, Aaron’s chest rose and fell with every breath. His gaze was fixed on your fingers as they fumbled on his belt. The air hummed with anticipation, mirroring the pounding of your heart against your ribs.

As the belt slid free, Aaron’s hand gently cupped your cheek, his touch sending a jolt of electricity through you. Leaning in, he inserted two of his fingers into your mouth. And you suck diligently, wetting his fingers thoroughly, staring at him all while your hands blindly unzipped his pants. After a few tries, you finally tugged down his pants and underwear, making him hiss quietly.

“Aaron...”

“Yes, sweetheart?” He rasped, frowning at you in concern. “Do you want to stop?”

“Can we… can we film this?”

He glanced at the ceiling, chuckling in disbelief. You watched how his throat bobbed with every swallow, and you squeezed your thighs for some friction. God, you’re so wet.

“And who would you show that, baby?” He asked curiously, pumping his cock in slow motion as he waited for your answer. “Eyes up here, sweetheart. Do you want to show your boyfriend how much of slut you are for an older man’s cock? Is that what you want?”

“Y-yes, sir…”

And that’s how you found yourself on your knees, naked, with Aaron’s big cock deep in your throat, staring up at his phone. Aaron was sitting on the edge of the bed, filming everything.

“What a dirty slut, you like that?” He asked hoarsely, tugging you away from his cock. You gasped loudly, feeling Aaron’s precum and your saliva dripping at the corner of your mouth.

“Thank you, sir...” you smiled breathlessly, closing your eyes as he slapped his veiny cock on your cheek and lip, spreading the wetness across your face.

“Fuck, look at you. You’re so cockdrunk...” He mused, laughing to himself, making sure he was capturing everything on the video. “How does it feel to cheat with your boss, sweetheart?”

“G-good…” You gulped thickly. “Should’ve d-done this soon, sir…” You mumbled in a daze, opening your mouth to take him again but he firmly tapped your cheek to stop you from doing so.

“Lay down and open those pretty legs for me.”

The room smelled like sweat and sex, wrapping you both in the heat of the moment. Soft moans and whispers filled the air, bouncing at the four corners of the room.

You closed your eyes in embarrassment and lay quietly in the middle of the bed, following Aaron’s order. In your past relationships, nothing was ever like this. It was always quick, sometimes even one-sided. You’ve never felt confident with your body, and it’s not like you had too many experiences to learn and grow your confidence from.

“I said open your legs, slut. Are you dumb?” Aaron slapped your thigh using his free hand, the one not holding the phone. “Show me how wet that pussy is.”

You shut your legs even more, shaking your head lightly.

“Oh, sweetheart. Don’t tell me you’re shy...” He tutted, feining pity. “Open those legs right now or I’m leaving. Maybe you can call your little boyfriend to take care of you.”

You quickly shook your head, a whimper caught in your throat. You open your legs a little while your hands still covered your wet, glistening cunt. Aaron frowned at the sight, obviously displeased by your slow, unsure actions.

“Don’t test me, little girl.” 

With an impatient sigh, he separated your thighs using his vacant hand. A shiver ran down your spine as the cold air hit your wetness. You watched in silence as Aaron focused his phone on your dripping cunt, running the pad of his middle finger up your clit down to your wet slit.

“You’re so wet, sweetheart. Who’s this for, hm?” He taunted, waiting for your answer.

Your toes curled in anticipation, mumbling. “Yours, sir…”

“Louder, slut. I’m trying to fucking record, remember?”

The world around you melted away as he pressed his middle finger inside your wet cunt. You felt feverish, growing even more desperate as he slowly moved his finger. Your breathing became ragged and heavy as you slowly felt the rhythm.

“Aaron… oh god…” You rasped breathlessly, both your hands reaching for his wrist as he added another finger. “That feels so g-good, sir…”

“Yeah?” He mocked, his teeth sank on his bottom lip as he watched his fingers assault your pussy through the screen of his phone. “Good girl, baby, look at you taking my fingers well.”

“I’m c-close, sir—” Your voice trembled with the intensity of your upcoming orgasm. “Sir, ple—”

“Come for me, sweetheart.”

That’s all it took for your resolution to crumble. Your orgasm racked through you with so much force, your back arching, your lips opened to a silent scream. You never came that hard before. And good God, what have you been missing all along? Aaron watched you with half-lidded eyes, his chest warm with lust and adoration.

“You’re gorgeous, baby.”

You hummed mindlessly, still coming down from your high.

“Need you now, Aaron... Please…” You croaked, throat dry. “Need your cock inside.”

“Say that to the camera, slut.”

You propped yourself a little, immediately facing the phone he was holding. “Need your big cock inside me, sir. Please, fuck me…”

The raw desperation in your voice made him smile. “Ride me then, sweetheart.”

You wasted no time and scrambled to your knees. Aaron deftly took his position and laid on his back. You licked your lips as you stared at his huge cock resting on his stomach. You just know that he’d be big… you just never thought you would see it firsthand. He’s thick and long, with veins decorating it.

Heat crept on your cheeks as you climbed on his lap and sat on his thick cock, grinding your wet pussy and moaning as you felt him pulsate beneath you. You focused your eyes on the camera that was still focused on you, your hands moving to your breasts as you continued grinding on him.

Aaron leaned forward a little and groped one of your tits, slapping it lightly with a breathy sigh.

“Fuck, you’re so hot.”

Your blush deepened. “Condom, sir?”

“Up to you, sweetheart. I’m not active.”

“I’m on birth control…”

Smiling, you took his cock and ground the tip against your wet pussy, letting out a staggering breath as you sank in slow motion. The thickness of his big cock stretched you like never before. You’ve never taken something as big as this. You bit your lower lip as you felt the slight burn of the stretch, focusing on how Aaron’s chest rose in heavy breaths. 

“You’re so warm, baby…” Aaron moaned quietly. “Good girl. Fuck, you feel so good. Go on, sweetheart.”

It didn’t take long for your movement to become desperate. You started bouncing up and down with vigor, chasing both of your highs. Aaron’s big cock reached spots inside your body you never knew existed, his neatly trimmed pubes tickling your sensitive clit. Your moans grew louder and louder as he kept hitting the spongy spot inside you.

“Oh god, sir…” You moaned pathetically, bouncing on his cock in pure desperation. “Ruin me with your cock, Aaron… you feel so good.”

“You’re so tight and warm, sweetheart.” You frowned at him in confusion when he handed you his phone. “Continue filming while I fuck you.”

You accepted his phone and focused the camera on him. His rough hands found your hips. Without warning, he started pistoling his hips, ramming his big cock in and out of your trembling body. You felt the burn of every drag of his cock and you’re not even sure if you’re still capturing something on your video.

“I’m coming, baby…” He said breathlessly. “I’ll fill you with my cum, is that what you want?”

You helped him chase his orgasm by meeting his hard thrusts. “Yes, yes- sir, yes, fill me with your c-cum.”

“Can your boyfriend do this, sweetheart?”

“No, sir, no–” You shook your head frantically, tears stinging your eyes. “O-only you.”

“Damn right, slut. I’m the only one who can do this to you.”

You’re not sure of whatever response left your mouth. You’re a babbling, mindless mess. A cockslut who can only think of Aaron’s big dick ruining you in the nastiest way possible. You can feel your peak nearing, making you whimper in ferality.

“I’ll fill you over and over—” His thick fingers tightened around your waist, leaving red, angry marks on your wake. “Until that’s the only thing you can think about.”

A shrill scream escaped your lips on a particularly hard thrust, feeling Aaron’s big cock pulsate inside you. After a few seconds, warm ropes of cum filled your womb. You shuddered at the feeling, clamping your thighs as they trembled excruciatingly. You didn’t even notice that you already let go of Aaron’s phone, completely forgotten on the cushion.

“F-fuck… Aaron—” You moaned in relief, craning your neck to the ceiling. Flashing lights sparkled even on your closed eyes.

His wet lips trailed on your sweaty neck, his teeth sinking in, leaving fresh sets of marks. “I can be a better boyfriend than him, sweetheart. You know that, right?”

You hummed shakily but you didn’t say anything. The way you’ve gone nonverbal filled Aaron with so much pride.

His hands found your waist again, making you whine as his cock slid out of you. Effortless, he thew you back on the bed, now on all fours. The new position felt primal, and exposing. You quickly felt the tip of Aaron’s hard cock sliding in and out of your dripping cunt, fucking in the trail of cum leaking out of your used pussy.

“I can do this all night, sweetheart. You won’t even think about him.”

I’d love to interact with everybody! And I sure do appreciate any thoughts or reactions. Don’t forget to drink your water and keep slaying, babes!

[strawbeerossi]

Taking Calls

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid

Description: Whenever a man who makes you feel uncomfortable asks for your number, you give him your boyfriend’s number instead. Whenever he texts him all day and finally decides to call, Spencer plans on taking care of it.

Content/Warnings: Minor case details (nothing explicit), creep officer, loving boyfriend Spencer, intimidation mention, kissing, unprotected sex, Spencer answers a phone call in the middle of sex (I didn’t know how to word that so it works lmao.)

Word Count: 1.2K

Anon Request: I had a spicy idea where a creepy cop tries to get readers number for “work purposes” and instead she gives him Spencer’s number and the cop happens to call Spencer and reader while he’s in the middle of fucking reader or the reader is in the middle of giving him a blowjob and the cop sort of hears her in the background? I just thought you’d be the perfect person to write this 😍

Navigation || Criminal Minds Masterlist || Request

🏷️ @kr-1-sta @iluvreid @nervousmoongiver @multifandom-on-the-side @ferrjulie @lov1ngreid @sobbingcryingattsizzles @doriantomybasil @thegluesong @rosiehale23

Spencer had his number given out before due to a prank on Derek’s end that had so many people blowing up his phone. It was something he vowed that he would get the man back for and specifically state that it could never happen again.

The team was on a case in Manhattan, a standard killer who had an awakened blood lust was terrorizing the city. After six victims, the NYPD felt it was best to invite the BAU onto the case, which seemed to be too little too late due to the man going dormant.

Every lead was buried so deep that you’d need an excavator to dig them up, still the team persisted. You were currently on day three, staying back at the police precinct along with Dave to interview the families of the deceased, hoping to dig up any leads.

You had currently stepped out for a brief break, standing by the coffee machine as you were getting one of the disposable cups, filling it to the brim with a healthy mixture of coffee and sugar. “Hey, Y/L/N, correct?” A voice came from behind you, making you turn to look over the person addressing you. Officer Laslow. “Hi, yes. That’s me. How can I help you?” You asked, eyebrows raising.

You didn’t like to judge people, however you had a very uneasy feeling around him. The way he was looking at you was a good enough reason to be uncomfortable, the man seeming to mentally undress you as he stared into your soul. “I was just wondering if your team had any leads? I mean, I’m sure the families know something,” He spoke, making you sigh as your shoulders slumped. “Nothing, unfortunately.” You spoke while sipping from the coffee cup in your hands.

“Nothing? What a shame. I was actually wondering if you and I could exchange numbers? No funny business, I’m just wanting to make sure we can stay in communication throughout this case. You know, share intel.”

He could’ve just asked Aaron for updates. However, in the moment of being uncomfortable and not knowing what to say, you were clearing your throat. “Well. Okay.. Just for intel though.” You murmured, slowly taking the device from his hands to put in Spencer’s number instead of your own. You’d explain things to your boyfriend later. Until then, you were doing the next best option. Spencer could handle this. You were sure of it.

As another day passed and there was no leads, the team was retreating to the hotel for the night to try and get some rest, even if they were overly focused on trying to catch the murderer running around freely. “Honey, I have a question.” Spencer began as he was walking from the bathroom, a pair of flannel pyjama pants and a white t-shirt clinging to his lanky frame. “I’ve just had a lot of texts today. The person is addressing you by name. Wanna talk about who you gave my number to?” He asked softly. He knew it had to be a big deal if you wouldn’t give someone your number.

“Some creep on the NYPD team. You should’ve seen the way he looked at me, Spencer. It made me so uncomfortable.” You shivered while looking over at your boyfriend. “I’m sorry that I gave him your number. I didn’t know what else to do.” The feeling of his hand rubbing your shoulder caused your body to relax, a soft sigh leaving his lips.

“I’m not upset with you by any means. I just wanted to ask. He didn’t try and touch you or force himself on you, right?” He asked, slowly letting his arm wrap around your shoulders as you shook your head. “No. Nothing like that. He was just twice my size and intimidating. I mean, he could’ve hurt me if I rejected him.” In this job, Spencer saw cases like that far too much, so he believed it.

“Come here.” He spoke while slowly pressing a few kisses against your cheek. “It’ll be okay. I’ll speak with Hotch about it tomorrow. It’ll get taken care of.” He smiled, the back of his knuckle gently caressing your cheek. “How did I get so lucky to be with you?” You asked softly, offering a smile as you leaned against his touch. “I’m the lucky one.” He mused, now moving to press a sweet kiss against your lips.

However, the kiss was only cut short whenever he could hear the ringtone on his phone designated for texts. “This guy is a real piece of work.” Your boyfriend muttered against your lips, opting to ignore the incessant sounds coming from his phone as he carried on your shared kiss. As the kids deepened, his hands were working to push your shirt over your head before his hands were working on your work pants. You hadn’t changed just yet, so he felt like he was definitely helping you out in the grand scheme of things.

Once you were undressed to his liking, it wasn’t long until your own hands were pushing at his clothes to bring him to the same level of unclothed as you were. “Lay down.” Spencer breathed as he broke the kiss, watching you push yourself back in bed before he was crawling on top of you to attach your lips once more. You were both eager, a lot of stress from this case as well as your own yearning for pleasure making things go just a little faster than usual. He used one hand to bring one of your legs around his waist, which prompted you to mirror your actions with your other leg.

Pushing your panties to the side, your boyfriend wasted no time pushing his cock inside of your eager cunt, a low groan leaving his lips as the hand propping him up was gripping the sheets. “Fuck. I love you.” He whispered, pressing a few sweet kisses to your lips. For once today, you felt like you could forget the officer from earlier, to enjoy the moment. Until Spencer was getting a call. “Are you kidding?” He huffed out of frustration, hips still thrusting at a slow pace as he was reaching over to take his cellphone from the bedside table.

“W-we should stop.” You breathed, knowing he had to take the call judging by the look on his face. “No. No, just lay there and take it, pretty girl. I’m gonna settle this once and for all.” He murmured. Before you could object, he was swiping to answer the call. “I don’t appreciate being ignored.” The male on the other end of the phone huffed. Just hearing his slimy voice had Spencer cringing. Using his shoulder to hold the phone up to his ear, he let out a soft breath. His hips thrusted into you at a faster speed, your lip tucked between your teeth as you really did try to keep quiet.

“She’s busy but I can take a message.” Spencer answered as if he wasn’t jackhammering you into the mattress right now, whines and moans slipping from your lips as you couldn’t hold them back anymore. “Who is this?” The officer asked, now his annoyance being clear as day. “Spencer!” You gasped out, answering his question without even being aware of it.

“You heard her. Tell the nice man on the phone who has the pleasure of fucking you.” Spencer grunted, making you red in the face as you gripped his upper arms. “You!”

“My name, baby. Tell him who gets to take you home every night.”

“Spencer!” You panted, head tossed back as he was pounding into your sweet spot.

“Now. If you’ll excuse me, I have important matters to attend to. I hope you get the hint.” He murmured.

[finelinevogue]

personal heating pad

summary - you have endometriosis but you're lucky you also have aaron

pairing - aaron hotchner x bau!endo-reader [1.2k]

a/n: i was listening to 'try' by p!nk and inspiration hit plus i am on my period and hating every minute of it... might make this a series? cw: she/her pronouns used

"Son of a..."

You keeled over yourself as another strong, stabbing, pain came across your lower abdomen. You blew out a deep breath before attempting to stand back up.

Periods sucked.

They sucked even worse when you had a condition like endometriosis.

The pain was doubled - sometimes you couldn't even get out of bed. You constantly had a heat pad on your lower abdomen throughout your cycle and you were constantly downing cocktails of medication.

Nothing helped you more - maybe not literally, but at least emotionally - than Aaron Hotchner though.

Your fiancé of 4 months now, Aaron knew all about your battle with endometriosis and yet he still had stuck by you all this time and had even gotten down on one knee.

Previous relationships had always failed because of the knowledge that endometriosis means there's a low chance of having a baby. Aaron chose to stay, though.

"I have Jack and I have you. What more could I need?" You remember Aaron telling you.

"Fuck." You swore as another cramp tore through your happy thoughts.

You had been on the way to get a shower, but even that seemed like too much of a task now thanks to the pain. You sat at the bottom of the stairs in your house, back to the wall as you closed you eyes and breathed through the pain.

Your phone started ringing.

But it was ringing from another room.

Your face scrunched in frustration as you cursed yourself for leaving your phone out of reach. There was no way you were moving from this spot for at least half an hour - you physically couldn't.

<.><.>

On the other side of the city Hotch was pacing in his office.

He sighed as he pulled his phone away from his ear as he heard your voicemail click again.

A knock on the door pulled him away from his internal panic.

"You okay?" Morgan asked.

Hotch sighed again, tucking his phone into his blazer pocket. "Y/N won't answer her phone."

Morgan frowned, "That's not like her."

"No, I know. That's what worries me." Hotch ran his hand over is jaw as he contemplated the next step.

"It's her day off right? She could be out with a friend." Morgan tried to reason with his stressed boss.

"No, it's... She..." Hotch frowned. He couldn't exactly explain why he knew you weren't out with a friend without explaining your condition - something you hadn't told the team and it wasn't his news to spread.

"Okay, well, uh, I'm sure Rossi and the rest of us can hold down the fort if you wanna go check on her." Morgan suggested.

Hotch just gave a meaningful nod in return and didn't waste another minute before leaving his office.

<.><.>

You felt yourself come around as the front door opened.

You hadn't even realised you'd gone to sleep until your eyes reopened. It was hard to know how long you'd been sat on the stairs for now without a clock nearby, but judging by how cold you were you'd say it had been a while.

When Aaron rounded the front door you could tell he was readying to bellow your name, until he saw you sat there.

His heart nearly broke seeing you.

It was so unfair that you had to go through this every month for over half of the month. He would never be able to comprehend how you were so strong to carry on through it.

"Hey sweetheart." Aaron spoke softly.

He came and crouched down in front of where you were still sat on the bottom step. One of his hands came to rest on your knee, whilst the other checked your temperature against your forehead.

"Hi." Your eyes were still heavy. Your arms remained wrapped around yourself as if that would somehow lessen the pain.

"How long have you been here for?"

"How long ago did you leave for work?" You joked.

Aaron smiled along with you but it you could tell it was out of pity more than anything.

Aaron quickly shuffled off his blazer and moved your body slightly so he could wrap it around you. You shivered under the new found warmth, the remanence of his heat still lingered on his jacket.

"You taken any medication?" He asked more seriously.

"No."

"Honey..." Aaron's frown shifted to one of disappointment.

"Don't give me that look." You sighed.

"It's only 'cause I care about you. You know that." Aaron leaned forwards so he could delicately kiss your forehead, careful not to knock you in any way that would hurt you.

"I hate this." You said quietly, tears forming in the corners of your eyes.

"I know." Aaron said, knowing that trying to say anything positive to fill in the sadness was worse than saying nothing at all. You hated it when people tried to spin a positive on this, because there really wasn't one. All you needed was someone to hold your hand through it and you were lucky that that someone was Aaron.

"Thank you for being here."

"Anytime, sweetheart."

<.><.>

It was hours later and you were in your happy place.

Aaron had helped you up the stairs and into the shower. He'd helped you shower and then get into bed without any troubles.

You were enveloped in a large hoodie of his, hood pulled up over your head as you laughed at something Aaron had just said. Both of you were nestled in your bed under the warm light of your salt lamp.

Aaron laid beside you, watching you closely, one arm draped across your waist whilst his fingertips traced soothing patterns against your skin.

You know he hates seeing you in pain, but Aaron knows that distraction—especially his laughter—can sometimes help more than anything else.

“You know, for an FBI unit chief, you’re a surprisingly good nurse.”

A cup of peppermint tea was still warm on your bedside table. You could tell that Aaron was keeping a mental note on how long the tea had left before he would need to go an re-warm it for you. He was too sweet. Your meds were stacked on the side too next to a fresh glass of water.

Aaron chuckled at your silliness, “I'm going to take that as a compliment.”

You turned your head to look at him better, wincing when the movement created a flare up in your lower tummy, “You shouldn’t. You have the same energy as a dad who's trying to help but is just holding out a bottle of ibuprofen like, ‘This fixes everything, right?’”

Aaron shook his head at you, but knowing he had no leverage on reprimanding you right now.

“I am a dad.”

“Jack probably gives you the same ‘you tried’ look I’m giving you right now.” You gave him a deadpan look - trying your best not to laugh.

“Not true. Jack thinks I know everything.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“And yet, you’re still here.”

As if you could move anywhere even if you did want to, you thought to yourself.

“That’s because you’re warm and I refuse to give up my human heating pad.” You brought his hand from your waist to push it down just above your panties.

Aaron knew what to do immediately. He spread his hand over the skin there and it immediately felt like you had a secondary heating pad on - it was magical. There was something so intimate about the situation that was more personal than any sort of sexual act.

The moment was ruined seconds later, “So you’re only using me for my body?” Aaron asked.

You snuggled closer to him, preparing to cash in for the evening, “Obviously.”