ALEX HIIIII!!!!!!!! i saw ‘aaron hotchner x reader’ in your tags and i RAN here 🤭🤭🤭💞
okay so what about #10-“Let me call you mine, just for tonight.” 😩🦋🦋 with aaron <3333
thank you ilysm!!!!!!!!!!
Instead
prompt: #10 “let me call you mine, just for tonight.”
pairing: gn!reader x aaron hotchner
contents: implied sexual content, angst, exes in love, hope for the future
wc: 1.1k (listen it got out of hand)
an: i hope you enjoy this my sweet fay, despite it being angst i had a really fun time writing it. perhaps im slowly returning to this man 🤭 love youuuu bb <33
summer blurbs prompts + masterlist | cm masterlist
You’ve always reminded yourself there was the possibility of seeing him when you come back home. You’ve prepared; there is nothing to say, nothing to change. Going your separate ways once the two of you had graduated from undergrad just made sense. Living states upon states from each other, working insane hours— the two of you were never going to fit together the way you did those few years. And while it hurt, neither of you wanted to hold the other back.
Your relationship was based in choice and fire and tenderness. How the bicker of back and forth turned into something soft, something sweet and erotic. You’d never been able to find the flame that sparked when you were with him with anyone else, so you’d given up.
It takes 10 years. You’d gone almost 10 years without seeing him— you come home for Thanksgiving and Christmas respectively, sometimes even the 4th of July. Aaron Hotchner never comes home. Until he does.
He says words that you never expected— words some part of you buried deep down has always wanted to hear.
“Let me call you mine, just for tonight.”
You shouldn’t even be here. He shouldn’t even be here. You’ve avoided this for so long and all it took was once for you to end up here. For you to say yes to him. Over and over you’d said yes, because what else could you say?
He’s always been your weakness. You’d agreed to coffee when you saw him in the grocery store. Said yes to dinner at coffee despite the awkward tension between you. Said yes again to coming back to his hotel room despite the tan line from his removed wedding band.
When those words— let me call you mine, just for tonight— spill from his mouth as you two stand in his hotel room, you can acknowledge that this is the perfect time to say no.
Still, you can’t bring yourself to say it. Instead you say, “We’ve done this before, Aaron. Why hurt ourselves?”
The words have hardly left your mouth before he’s answering. “Because I haven’t stopped thinking about you since you left.”
“I didn’t leave, we came to an agreement,” You grit out, arms crossed against your chest defensively. “We wanted different things, coasts apart.”
He puts his hands up in surrender, “I’m not blaming you.”
“That’s what it feels like. And you never fought for me— I posed the idea and you just went with it.”
His mouth presses into a thin line, brow furrowing in confusion, “Was I supposed to know that I was meant to fight? I always respected you and your autonomy.”
You know that he’s right. Choice and fire and tenderness.
Your shoulders drop as all the stubbornness in you disappears. You can’t look at him. “I don’t want to fight, Aaron, please. I don’t have the heart for it.
He steps forward— that’s all that’s left between the two of you after this little tiff, a single step. His hands, warm and calloused, rise to cup your face, lifting your gaze to his own.
“I know, you never have, have you, honey?” He asks gently, not a single drop of malice or condescension. “We get worked up just to fizzle out. I’m sorry, I am. But, I don’t know if I can let you walk out the door like this.”
You have to close your eyes before you drown in him. In his deep brown eyes, in his strong pine cologne that surrounds you. It’s too late, you’re sure of that when he angles your jaw further and you feel the ghost of his breath on your lips. And while it took so much strength to look away, it takes none to press your lips to his.
For a while that’s all either of you do— kiss and explore the way you’ve changed. His mouth feels the same, his tongue deep and searching but his skin is different, his beard is gone, his shoulders are firmer. He feels how you’ve become softer, how your mouth might taste even sweeter.
You pull away once your lungs burn and not a moment sooner. It could end here, you could keep all those promises you’ve made to yourself and walk away from him. Nothing and everything has changed. Once again you think that you should do the right thing to save you both. But instead, you sit on the couch and pat the spot beside you.
You and Aaron truly talk for the first time since seeing each other in that grocery store. You tell him about your loneliness. He tells you about his, about the horror and gore that accompanies it. You bring him close and kiss him until he’s dizzy, until you’re in a vacuum where none of that exists. Just the two of you.
Eventually, he guides you to the bed with respectful eyes, eyes that say this is your call. You make it, pulling him in for another kiss by the collar of his polo.
In the quiet darkness of the night, he touches you like you never left him. He kisses every inch of your skin, and reintroduces you to a level of pleasure that left with him.
And when you wake in the morning, you’re warm— almost too warm. But, you aren’t quite ready to move and accept the reality that dawn brings. You’re losing him all over again. There’s a familiar stiffness in your bones, a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach that takes you back to that cool May morning.
Rising out of bed, slowly and carefully, is one of the hardest things you’ve ever done. Not because you haven’t snuck out of bed before, leaving a one night stand or two wondering about what they did wrong. But, because Aaron’s always been it for you. Because you’re leaving the warmest bed you’ve ever known.
Dressing quietly, you press a parting kiss to his forehead, so light that you feel like a ghost. Maybe that’s what you are, a ghost in Aaron’s life the way he’s one in yours.
When Aaron wakes, he feels the chill left in your absence. He knew what he was getting himself into; he’d only asked for a night, hadn’t he?
That chill stays with him as he gets ready. But, when he reaches for his wallet, a small bit of paper falls out. He bends to pick it up, and smiles— written on the paper are familiar digits. Ones he’d deleted from his phone long ago, ones he’s been trying to forget until now.
He thinks for a moment that he should throw it away, spare you both the back and forth for something that might crumble all over again. Instead, he opens his phone, saving your number once more. His chest thaws a bit at the potential of more.
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