#why is hotch girlies not a tag yet

[writteninthegarden]

Working Together

Aaron x Female White Collar Crimes Agent

18+ Minors, please DNI

A/N: It took me a bit to figure out what I wanted the next part to be…and then of course I had to actually write it.

Summary: Reader considers a new job opportunity. Unfortunately, the first agent she has to work with is a huge jerk. Reader and her new coworker meet with Aaron to request help from Garcia. Afterwards, Aaron and Reader commiserate about how obnoxious the other agent was in their meeting.

Word Count: 3,060

Warnings/Contents: Some language, jerk agent enters the story

The BAU started back up with a local case after we got back from our trip, which I appreciated greatly. One night that week when Jack had a sleepover, I snuck down to Aaron’s office around 7pm to surprise him.

His office door was open so I knocked on the frame to get his attention. “You busy, boss man?”

That earned me a half smile, but I was determined to do better. I walked in and closed the door. The office suite was mostly empty, but I still didn’t want any interruptions.

“Late night, huh? Did they leave you all the reports to do now that you’re back?”

“Kind of” I said as I scrunched my face. “It’s fine. Makes the hours just fly by, clearly. Same for you?”

“Thankfully, no.” He wheeled his desk chair back and motioned me over. I sat in his lap and relaxed against him. “Mhmm, my favorite part of the day.” He gently kissed the side of my head and brought his left arm around my waist.

“That’s funny…you used to grumble about me even coming down here.” I looked back at him. A smirk appeared on his lips and really made me want to kiss them.

“Well, I’ve come around a little. I wouldn’t say I grumbled. That doesn’t sound like me. Must be your other boyfriend.”

“Don’t joke. You’re the only grumbly boyfriend I need. Now, can I tell you something?”

“Of course” he said as he kissed the back of my neck. “Tell me whatever you like.”

“I kind of got recommended for a promotion today.”

“What? Sweetheart, that’s amazing!” He tapped my hip to signal me to get up. “Moving us to the couch and then I want to hear everything.”

Once we walked over to the couch in his office, he sat down and motioned to the space next to him. I climbed over his legs to sit on the other half of the couch.  He instantly pulled me into his side and kissed the top of my head.  I lifted my head up so I could sneak a quick kiss on his lips.

“So this is a promotion in White Collar?”

“No, it’s actually in Cyber Crimes. In that JTF, there was a SSA from Cyber Crimes that I worked with a majority of the time. Apparently I made a good first impression because he reached out to see if I’d be interested. I’d still have to apply and finish out whatever my freeze time is before I can transfer again.  I never saw myself working in Cyber, but baby it’s a SSA position!”

“Well, first things first. I’m not surprised they spotted how impressive you are.  I know you’ve wanted to advance, so that’s a plus.  How do you feel about a different department?”

“It’s very tempting. I know it would be a few if not several years before I see that opportunity in white collar.  Granted, I know next to nothing about the work, but the SSA said I could work on cases.  That piece excites me since I’ve been mostly doing desk work for the past 6 months.”

“True, but didn’t you find the travel was taxing in previous roles? Do you know how often you might have to travel in this new role?”

“Not yet. The contact who told me about it said he’d email me the job description.  Maybe you can help me decode what certain jargon actually means in reality.  That’s a big factor I need to consider, especially to make sure I can still help with Jack.”

Aaron shook his head.

“What?” I asked.

“You know I love how involved you want to be with Jack, but you can’t rule out a promotion because it makes childcare for my son inconvenient.  We would figure that piece out, babe.”

“I know, but it’s more than just childcare.  I like being a part of Jack’s life and routine.  We have standing plans for movie nights now, you know.”

Aaron laughed at that. “Oh, believe me, I know.  Those few days you haven’t been available but I’m home I get an earfulif I forget that it’s movie night.”

Now I was laughing too. “Can the three of us have a movie night soon?  I really miss the littlest Hotchner.”

“Of course.”

“With pizza?”

“Mhm.”

“And popcorn?”

“Sure, babe.”

“And candy?”

“Oh. My. Lord. Did the two of you make a checklist or something? Who knew movie night could be such a ritual?”

“Aaron” I said in between giggles.  “Movie night is serious stuff.  If you can’t hang, we’ll understand.”

“Ah, my girlfriend and son have teamed up against me.”

“Afraid so, man.”

“Listen, you” he said as he patted my hip with the arm around me.  “We’ll find time for movie nights and all the junk food that apparently accompanies it even if you end up needing to travel for work.”  He cuddled me with one arm still around my body and the other reaching over to gently stroke my arm and side.  “You and Jack may have a coup formed, but I hope you realize you have not one, but two Hotchner men who have fallen for you.  We won’t let you get very far from us.  You’ll just have to deal with that.”

“I can manage that.”

~

I made my way up the stairs to Aaron’s office one morning around 10:30am and knocked on his door.

“Come in.”  

“Hey, you in the middle of something?”

“Oh, hey babe.  I’m just trying to get up to speed for my next meeting.  What’s up?”

“That’s actually why I’m here.”

“I’m not sure I follow.”

“I’m your 11am.”

Aaron stared at me for a moment and pulled out his phone, likely to double check he read his calendar right.

“Babe, the meeting I have is to discuss analytic support for something cyber crime is working on. They’re already pulling you into things?”

“Yes, Agent Hotchner. From what I’ve heard so far, we absolutely need Garcia’s stealthy skills.”

Surprised is one way to describe Aaron’s expression.

“So you’re my 11 o’clock. Well, then.  That must be a positive sign if they’re already getting you involved.”

“I hope so. The thing I wanted to talk to you about is that I’m only part of the meeting.  There’s this SSA from Cyber who will join us at 11. Babe, between us he can be a bit of a tool.”

“Sadly they’re out there. So what do you want to do here?  I think I have an idea, but want to hear your thoughts first.”

“Well, I was hoping you wouldn’t be offended if I said I don’t want them to know we’re dating. I’m kind of enjoying this so far. This case could be a way for me to really showcase what I can do.”

“Okay, that’s where I thought you were headed.   That’s fine.”

“Are you really okay with it?  I want you to know it’s just because I want to flex my skills without worrying about whispers about my personal life.  It’s the whole rank and file thing.  I know you always say to tell them it’s the wrong department I’m sleeping my way to the top of…but this unfortunately is a stigma, especially for female agents.”

“Y/N, I understand. We’ll just have to be extremely careful. Hiding our relationship is a choice, but then there’s always the risk that someone finds out.  This could be interesting though.  I never thought we’d have the opportunity to work together on a case.”

“Maybe even in the field and everything.”

“Eh, I’m not sure how I feel about you in the field.”

“And I’m not sure of the relevance here, Agent Hotchner…but this is exactly what we need to avoid.”

“Fine. I’ll counter with me taking you to the range to practice shooting again.”

“I actually need to recertify so that would be perfect.”

“Good.”

“Okay, I’m going to dash downstairs so I can come back up to meet them at the elevator.”

“Very stealthy of you.  I’ll see you shortly.”

Once I got back down to my desk, the SSA I mentioned to Aaron was there.

“Agent Russell?  I’m sorry, I thought we planned to meet off the elevators on the sixth floor.”

“We did.  Sorry, I was a little early so I figured I’d come find you first.”

SSA Tyler Russell pulled out my seat for me and then leaned his ass against the edge of my desk.  He wore black pants, a white dress shirt and a gray blazer with dress shoes.  I was so used to seeing Aaron with a tie that the absence of one on Russell’s outfit threw me off.  What really put me off though was his damn ass leaning against my desk.  He had short dark brown hair, blue eyes and stood just over 6 feet tall.  It was very easy to tell that he thought he was hot shit from how he acted and carried himself.  In our work together so far he’d often try to steal the lead since he was currently a rank higher than me and had more experience in his specialty.  I played nice, but already he annoyed the crap out of me.

Eager to get him away from my space, I grabbed the folder to give Aaron, a steno pad and pen and quickly stood up.

“Okay, the BAU is just one floor up.  It’s their Unit Chief we’ll be meeting to brief him on the case and how his team might be able to help us.”

“Aww, is the recap for me or you?  I remember the plan, Agent Y/L/N.  Hotchner is it?”

I pretended to look down at my notebook for reference.

“Yes, SSA Aaron Hotchner is the Unit Chief.”

I hated how this jerk threw his titles around at me all the time…so I threw Aaron’s right back at him.

Agent Russell momentarily paused as I made my way right down the all too familiar hallway to Aaron’s office.

“Someone knows their way around. I’ll just follow you I guess.”

“It’s called a staff directory, Agent Russell.  I’ll show you sometime.  Should be at the end of the hall.”

When we got to Aaron’s office door I raised my hand to knock, but Agent Russell beat me to it. My hand ended up brushing his forearm.

I didn’t hear Aaron say his usual “Come in” because Russell distracted me by whispering, “now’s not the time for flirting, Agent.”

I rolled my eyes and whispered back, “oh, be serious.”

Speaking of serious, just then Aaron opened his door greeting us both with his usual poker face and furrowed brow.

“Hi, you must be the agents with Cyber Crimes.  Please, come in.  I’m SSA Aaron Hotchner and I’m the Unit Chief of the BAU.”  He extended his hand first to me to shake, which he had no idea was the perfect comeback for the crap Russell pulled a minute ago.

“Nice to meet you, Agent Hotchner.”  I met his handshake and firmly grasped his hand.  “I’m Special Agent Y/N Y/L/N and this is my colleague SSA Tyler Russell. We appreciate you taking the time to meet with us.”  As I finished the introductions, Aaron firmly shook Russell’s hand and motioned for us both to take a seat opposite his desk.

I prepared the file and intended to speak first, but again Russell stole the lead and ran with it.

“Agent Hotchner, our team has been following a mid-level hacker who somehow has found a way to intercept online transactions to redirect the funds to what thus far have been virtually untraceable dummy accounts across the country.”

Not wanting to let my preparation go to waste, I jumped in.  Thankfully even this jerk needed to take a breath now and then.

“That’s why we’re hoping your tech analyst may be able to help ours.  Just when they get a location on an account it seems to vanish and the funds are redirected”

“We’re happy to help with the tech piece.  I believe your supervisor mentioned possibly needing profilers as well?  I’m missing the connection I’m afraid, Agent Y/L/N.”

“Yes, potentially. We’ve notified all major financial institutions, but if we’re notified of missing transactions that meet the same criteria-

Russell cut me off.

“We’d then like to ask if your team could build a profile to help us better understand this hacker. So far all 3 victims have been females under 50. We’re not confident that’s their victimology yet, but it seemed too much of a coincidence.”

“Any other connections between the victims?”

“None we’ve noted yet” Russell replied.

“Also, only one victim had previously been married. All three are legally single.”  You beat him to that detail.

“Have you interviewed all three?”

“Two thus far. Unfortunately the third suffered extreme emotional distress after she was hacked. She’d fallen behind on her bills and the transaction that was hacked was a commission she counted on to get squared up.  Her medical providers haven’t let us speak with her yet. Agent Hotchner, I’ve pulled together some initial reference points for your review.  As you can see we’re still trying to figure out the extent of what we’re dealing with here.” I handed Aaron the file.

“Of course.  Thank you for bringing this to my attention, Agents. I’d like to review it further to see who on my team might be the best fit for this type of case.  Since it’s crossed state lines jurisdiction isn’t an issue.  Is your contact information in the file?”

“Yes, sir.  That’s correct.”  Russell had to defer to me on that one since I compiled the file.

“Great, let me give you both my card as well in case you need to reach me in the interim.”

“Thank you, SSA Hotchner. The background and combined experience of your senior team would greatly help our efforts. Agent Y/L/N, could use the pointers as she just joined.” Gross, Russell was kissing my boyfriend’s ass and taking a jab at me in the same sentence.

“Of course, happy to help wherever we can. Agent Y/L/N, that was a thorough overview you provided. Agent Russell, I’ll remind you we’re all on the same team.”  Aaron shook both of our hands again and walked you to the door. “The elevator is at the end of this hall to the right.”

“Thank you.  Luckily my partner here seems to have the Quantico floorplans committed to memory.”

You just kept walking as if you hadn’t heard Russell.

By some stroke of luck he had to leave to join another meeting shortly after and didn’t linger around.

You got back to your desk and called Aaron.  He picked up on the third ring and just said,

“Wow…”

“I warned you, remember?” I sunk into my desk chair and leaned my head back in frustration.

“Yeah, I’m sorry you’re stuck with him, babe.”

“Okay, let’s have it.”

“Have what?”

“Profile him for me?”

“He’s an arrogant prick.”

Feel free to be less concise. Please? Part of me hopes the inflated ego is masking insecurity rather than that just being how he is. Am I hot or cold?”

“Oh, he’s insecure without a doubt.  He’s likely received positive attention for his looks and heavily relies on that for self-confidence.  If I had to guess he’s likely the youngest child in a divorced family, which is where he developed the attention seeking behaviors and attitude.  When this guy feels intimidated, he desperately clutches on to any way he can convince himself he’s superior.  In this case, that’s why he keeps harping on being a grade above you and cutting you off. I started casually directing questions to you or making it known I was about to ask one while you finished saying something.  I knew he wouldn’t cut me off so I could let you finish your point and then directly ask you the follow up.  I hoped you knew I wasn’t trying to speak over you for any other reason. That line about working with my senior team aimed to associate himself as a senior agent and alienate you. Oh, and the quip about you needing pointers? Jesus Christ. Whether we end up working together or not I had to set him straight on that one.”

“Damn, babe.  All that from an hour meeting?”

“Sometimes people are easier to read than others. That and the slight advantage that you and I have met before.”

“Yes, a couple times…but I’m only now just getting your card. Oh, I also loved that you shook my hand first. He made some jerk comment right before you opened the door, so that was perfect.”

“Oh, I could hear you two talking as I walked up to the door.  I didn’t catch what was said, but then the look on your face filled me in. You’re going to have a difficult time with him, but if you can find any common ground it can only help.  I just don’t want him to pull you down into the tit for tat games while you’re trying to showcase yourself with this effort.”

“Ughhhh.”

“Another thing. He’ll probably also either shamelessly flirt with you or try to find ways to claim you’re flirting with him.  Watch out for that because someone like him will use that against you if they see the moment and personal gain.”

“You don’t really think I’d flirt with him…do you?”

“No, no of course not. Sorry if that’s how it came out. I’m not saying or have any qualms that you’d do anything like that.  Someone like him needs it to keep his desperate illusion that he’s irresistible alive in his mind.  But if we collaborate on this case he’ll have to knock that shit off forthwith.”

“Oh, speaking of if you take the case…can you confidentially off the record make sure your team knows that umm…we’re operating in a professional capacity here?  I practically raced in and out of the bull pen in fear I’d run into someone who’d make a joke about me coming for an afternoon delight.”

“Of course.  I don’t think they’ll have any problem with that.”

“Perfect.  Well, I have a hot dinner date and maybe a relaxing bath to look forward to, so I have to go do my work now.  Love you, baby.”

“Love you too.  Still not taking any baths, for the record.”

Taglist:  @itsmytimetoodream @rousethemouse, @hotch-meeeeeuppppp

[scuttling]

(Not So) Casual Friday

Fandom: Criminal Minds Pairings: Aaron Hotchner/Female Reader Word Count: 4,456 Tags: 18+, NSFW, Dad Bod Hotch (it's not a main component but he very much has the tummy here), Pining, Accidentally admitting attraction, Embarrassment, A little angst, Oral sex, Protected sex Summary: Your best friend Derek finds out about your feelings for Hotch and teases you mercilessly. You can manage it, though, until the first ever Casual Friday, when Hotch shows up to work in a black polo and jeans and you kind of ruin everything. Or maybe you don't? *Requested by anon Link to A03 or read below! “Okay, girlie, today’s the day,” Derek says when you set your bag and coffee cup on your desk on Monday morning. You shoot your best friend a tired smile and wonder for the—you’ve worked at the BAU for almost two years, so it’s probably the 500th time—for the 500th time why he has to be such a morning person when you would prefer not to have a conversation until at least 10 AM.

“Today’s the day for what?” you sigh, asking out of obligation, because it’s obvious that’s what he’s waiting for; he smiles, picks up your coffee and hands it to you, which must mean you sound bitchy. You take a grateful sip, close your eyes and exhale through your nose.

“For you to admit to me that you’re in love with Hotch.”

You spit out your coffee—only all over yourself, which is great, wouldn’t want to inconvenience Derek at all—and then cough so hard he has to thump on your back to help clear your airway.

It draws some attention; Hotch comes out of his office, takes a look at the two of you and probably regrets hiring the both of you, then walks down the stairs to make sure you’re okay.

“What happened? You’re wet,” he says a bit gruffly, looking at the coffee all over your chest and sleeves. You glare over at Derek, who’s clearly trying not to laugh.

“Derek made me spill my coffee.” You grab a handful of tissues off your desk and pat at the wet spot, trying to soak up the worst of it, but it’s not salvageable. You’ll have to change your shirt.

“And then you… choked on it?” Hotch asks, to clarify. Derek does laugh at that; the things Hotch is saying happen to have dual meanings, slightly sexual, and now that Derek knows—thinks he knows—about your thing for Hotch, it’s clear he finds it all so hilarious. He’s a twelve year old boy in a grown man’s body.

“Okay, I didn’t spill, I spit,” you correct, looking up at them, and Derek makes an exaggerated face of disapproval.

“Should have swallowed,” he says, trying to sound serious, and you shoot him an irritated look and reach out to slap him in the chest. Asshole.

“Do you need help getting cleaned up?” Hotch’s expression is kind, sweet, but you’d sooner die than have him blot coffee off of your boobs. It would be mortifying, especially in front of Derek.

“No, no, I think I’m okay. Thanks,” you add with a soft smile, and then you reach up and pull your sweater over your head, unzip your go bag, and search for another top.

For some reason, Hotch has a coughing fit scarily similar to the one you just had, and you turn to pat his back like Derek did for you.

“Are you alright?” you ask, looking up into his face, and he nods despite his watering eyes.

“Fine,” he croaks, and he leaves as quickly as he came. You sigh, because it’s not even nine and your day has already been so weird.

You’re wearing a tank top, and thankfully the coffee didn’t get through to that layer, so it’s quick and easy to throw another lightweight sweater over top of it; you ball up the wet one, shove it in the dirty clothes portion of your bag, zip it up and stash it under your desk. Derek looks like he’s having the best day of his life.

“You realize you just undressed in front of Hotch,” he says with a tone you don’t appreciate. You roll your eyes.

“I did not. I had a tank top on underneath.” You almost always wear an undershirt, because you’ve been a cop long enough to know that sometimes your clothes get torn or messed up in the line of duty, and you’re not trying to offer a free show while taking down an unsub. Derek wiggles his eyebrows, points at your chest.

“Yeah, one that put those little boobies on display. His eyes bulged out of his head like a cartoon character.” This time, you punch him in the arm, hard. It’s too goddamn early for this.

“Can you please shut up already? I don’t have a thing for Hotch.”

“Ah, I didn’t say you had a thing, I said you’re in love with him. And I have evidence; lots of it.” You tip your head back, groan, wondering what you did to deserve a best friend who is also such a pain in the ass, and it’s that moment that Hotch chooses to rejoin you; he looks a little flushed, probably from the coughing earlier.

“Uh. We have a case; I know not everyone is here yet, but you can head up to the briefing room, I’ll grab the others when they arrive.”

“Sure thing, sir,” you say easily, grabbing your tablet and what’s left of your coffee; you gesture for Derek and he follows, laughing and shaking his head. “Okay, what is it now? I’m so glad you find me entertaining today.”

“‘Sure thing, sir,’” he says with a high, breathy voice you assume is supposed to mimic yours. “You want his dick so bad.” You narrow your eyes at him as you head upstairs.

“Uh, because I was being respectful? I know that’s a foreign concept for you, the world’s biggest asshole, but you don’t have to read anything into it.” You take your usual seats at the table, pull up the note-taking app on your tablet, and Derek sits back, crosses his arms behind his head.

“Well you’re not calling me ‘sir’, and I’m the sexiest piece in the office, so it’s hard not to read into it.” You look over at him, elbow on the table, chin in the palm of your hand.

“Sexy is subjective, and you don’t do it for me, sorry to break it to you.” He scoffs, laughs, and you laugh too because you both know you see each other as brother and sister, buddies, and fellow former cops, and absolutely nothing else.

“Yeah, I get it, only Hotch does it for you; he’s not my type, but I can see how a young lady like yourself could be drawn to his brooding exterior.”

“I’m not drawn to his exterior!” you practically growl, and then you’re joined by Spencer and JJ.

“Good morning. What’s going on with you two?” JJ asks, loading up the monitors for the debriefing, her eyebrows raised.

“She’s in love with Hotch,” Derek says completely nonchalantly, and you rest your head on the table, on top of your forearms, and sigh.

“She’s what?” JJ’s whole face lights up, and you seriously regret everything.

“I’m not in love with anybody!” you mumble against your arms, and then you sit up, because you’re clearly going to have to defend yourself. “And I’d appreciate it if you quit saying that I am.”

“I told you I have evidence,” Derek reminds you, leaning back in his chair a little. One swift kick would have him toppling ass over tea kettle, but you’re too nice, even when he’s actively trying to ruin your life. “Shall I go over it while we wait?”

“I’ll be an objective third party,” Spencer says with a brief smile, and you sigh, wave your hand toward Derek.

“Alright, let’s hear it. I’m sure I have a perfectly reasonable explanation for whatever evidence you might think you have.” He grins like this is the moment he’s been waiting for, and you feel a little stupid for encouraging this.

“For one, you always look at him. When I’m delivering a profile, I notice you watching the locals, making sure they understand what we’re going over, since you're the queen of analyzing the micro expressions. But when Hotch is delivering a profile, your eyes are on him the whole time. Same goes for discussing theories on the jet; anyone else, and you’ve got your face in your tablet, scribbling notes, but you always look at him when he speaks.”

Your cheeks get hot. He’s a captivating speaker, is all, with that deep, velvety voice, and you can learn a lot from him, so you pay attention. That’s just being smart.

“Second, you tense when he gets close to you: not like you don’t want him to touch you, but like you’re halfway to jumping him already and trying to control it. I could probably put my hand in your pocket and you wouldn't even flinch, but if he leans over you to point at something you look like you’re about to cream your pants.”

“I have seen that, actually,” JJ offers, and you look over at her, betrayed. Sure, you get a whiff of his clean, crisp cologne, or feel the heat of him at your back, and your body reacts, reminds you that this is your boss and you’re at work and you can’t get turned on by the way he smells, but that’s actually a good thing, not an indicator of feelings or anything.

“Third, there’s something up with you and the gray suits. I can literally tell that he’s wearing one before I even see him, all because of the look on your face. It’s like you’re drunk on the gray suit.”

“Okay, that’s not true,” you say with a roll of your eyes—the gray suits are god tier, but there’s no way you’re that obvious—but it’s Spencer who speaks up, this time.

“You know, I have noticed that. Your pupils tend to be more dilated when his suit is gray or blue than when it’s black.” Fuck. You sigh.

“He barely ever wears the blue. It looks so good on him,” you murmur, and then you snap your eyes shut, cover your face with your hands. “Fuck. This is so embarrassing.”

“To be fair, we are profilers,” Derek says, leaning in to pat your back. “But also to be fair, he’s been a profiler longer than any of us, so if we know, he definitely knows.”

“Not helping, Derek,” you grind out, and then you’re joined by the rest of the team. Penelope takes the seat next to you, leans in with a worried tone of voice.

“Is everything okay?”

“She’s having a small crisis, but she’ll be fine,” JJ says with a smile, and you don’t miss the way Hotch looks you over when she says it, concern in his eyes. “Alright, so we’re headed to Arkansas…”

Later that morning, when you’ve been given your instructions—yours are heading to the crime scene with Emily and Derek—Hotch pulls you out into the hall, rests a gentle hand on your arm.

“Are you alright? JJ mentioned you were having a crisis earlier. This is the first time I’ve been able to get you alone, and I wanted to check on you.” You take a deep breath, look up at him, so handsome in a black suit, white shirt, green tie—he almost never wears a green tie, and you absently think it brings out the more golden tones of his eyes—and smile softly.

“Yeah, I’m fine. It’s really nothing. Personal stuff, and I’m dealing with it.” If by ‘dealing with it’ you mean you’ve been repressing it, shoving it down day in and day out until your feelings are choking you, then yeah, you’re dealing with it. “Thanks for checking, though, that’s kind of you.”

“Of course. I’m here to help in any way I can, if you need me.” Good god, do you need him, emotionally, physically, but that’s fantasy, and this, what he’s offering, is rooted in reality. Good things do happen, but not to you.

“Thanks.” Your voice is weak to your own ears, and he swallows, nods; you see Derek hovering by the door, waiting for you, and you pull away to join him, plastering a smile on your face. You don’t talk about it again until Friday, and at that point it’s extremely unavoidable.

It’s Casual Friday, newly implemented by the bureau as a way to boost morale, and while it doesn’t really excite you, because you’re fairly casual anyway, others take full advantage of it. Others, including Hotch.

He shows up to work wearing a black polo and dark jeans, his usual watch. It’s easily the most simplistic, basic outfit a man could decide to wear on Casual Friday, but this isn’t just a man, it’s Aaron fucking Hotchner, and so naturally, you lose your damn mind.

It wouldn’t be so bad if the damn polo didn’t fit him perfectly, tight across his shoulders and chest and the little tummy he has that makes you want to be under him so badly, your stomachs pressed together while he thrusts inside you, holding you tightly, his strong thighs working against yours…

“Hello, are you alive in there?” Emily asks, waving her hand in front of your face; the two of you, along with Derek, are in Penelope’s office for lunch while Rossi, Reid, and JJ are out of the office for a seminar. You blink, shake away your thoughts and hope and pray they don’t come back—but they’ll come back, they always do.

“She’s just short circuiting because of Hotch’s Casual Friday look,” Morgan says with a wink, sitting backward in his seat. “She’s been drooling so much I’ve had to follow her around with a mop to clean up after her.” You push your wheeled chair away from them with a groan, needing space and air and, potentially, a brain transplant. You’ve gotten nothing done all day long.

“Can you blame me? The man comes in here everyday, buttoned up tight, looking incredible in a suit and tie, and then he shows up in that black polo, all snug and hot and delicious, and you expect me not to freak out? You guys are lucky I didn’t pass out.” You’re met with silence, and you blink, confused, at your friends, but they’re all just kind of staring with looks of barely concealed humor. “What? It’s not like it’s a secret that I want to climb him like a tree.”

“Pretty sure it was a secret to him,” Penelope says, looking shocked, and you whip around in your chair to see Hotch standing in the doorway, wide-eyed and a little flushed.

“Oh my god. I’m so sorry. I, uh—” He raises a hand, waves you off.

“It’s okay. No harm done; thank you, for the, uh. Compliment.” He steps forward, hands a manila folder to Penelope. “Thanks for taking care of these,” he says softly, and then, unsurprisingly, he gets the hell out of there. You wish you could disappear off the face of the Earth.

“Fuck, holy fuck,” you mutter when he’s gone, leaning forward with your head in your hands. “That’s it, I’m quitting. It’s been nice knowing you guys.”

“Okay, don’t be dramatic,” Derek says, and you look up to glare at him; he’s the one that started all this in the first place. You were fine, feelings tamped down and suppressed, until he brought it up and then told everyone you know.

“Don’t tell me not to be dramatic, Derek! This is all your fault. You never respect my boundaries, you never know when to just let me be, you always have to pick and pick until you wear me down. Maybe I had a reason for wanting to keep my feelings private, did you ever think of that?”

“I know you're upset,” Emily begins softly, because there’s some pretty thick tension between you and Derek now, but you stand up, push your chair across the room, and shake your head.

“I’m not upset, I’m fucking humiliated. I’m going home; let him know I’m sick, will you?” You exhale deeply, storm upstairs and grab your stuff and drive home with tears in your eyes. You’ve never been so embarrassed in your life, and add that to the absolute heartbreak you’re feeling? You’re just happy you make it to your apartment, so you can break down with cheesecake and a sappy, romantic comedy with a happy ending: those perfect, fictional worlds are pretty much the only place one is guaranteed. You are, as planned, hunkered down on the sofa in your softest pajamas, watching You’ve Got Mail and eating the center out of an entire cheesecake with a spoon when there’s a knock at your door. You groan, pick up your cheesecake tin, and walk over to it, fully expecting it to be Derek come to beg for forgiveness for ruining your life, so it’s no surprise you drop your dessert on the floor when it’s actually Hotch on the other side.

He looks down at the tin, then up at your face, cracks the barest hint of a smile.

“I thought you were sick; I brought soup,” he says, holding up a paper bag, and your heart thumps in your chest. You wipe a hand over your face, because you haven’t been exactly neat in your heartache cheesecake consumption, and then you kick the tin across the floor and invite him in, closing the door behind him.

“I thought it was obvious that I wasn’t actually sick, just… really embarrassed,” you say when he turns back to look at you. “I can’t believe you heard all that stuff I said… I’m really sorry I made you uncomfortable.” You take the bag from his hand and invite him to follow you into the kitchen, where you set it on the counter, lean against it. He comes close, but not so close you can’t function, which is good; your comfy pajamas are shorts and a loose tank top, so you feel a little exposed already.

“You didn’t make me uncomfortable,” he says softly, and you frown, must have heard him wrong. He presses his fingertips against the counter, as if for support. “You didn’t make me uncomfortable. It was… unexpected,” he explains, “very unexpected, but I’m not uncomfortable.”

You flush hot, and you can feel the bad decision part of your brain switching on, warning bells ringing in your head.

Whatever you do next has the potential to be extremely stupid, and you would like to avoid that at all costs; you love your job, after all, despite how physically and emotionally exhausting it can be, and you love your team. Time to think with your upstairs brain only.

“That makes me feel a little better,” you say truthfully, and despite the pep talk you just gave yourself, you move closer to him like there’s an invisible magnetic force between you; you would imagine a guy like Hotch would step back, keep his distance, but he only cranes his neck a little so he can look down at you more easily.

God, he’s tall. And he smells good, and his face is perfect, and that goddamn polo...

“Good, I’m glad. I don’t want you to feel bad about this. I’m not uncomfortable, it’s not… it’s not unwanted.” You swallow audibly, looking up at him, wondering if he knows what he’s saying, what it sounds like.

“It’s not?” you ask, and it comes out breathy; he takes a small step closer to you, brushes his fingers over your arm, peers into your eyes.

“No, it’s not. I’ve been thinking of you, too; I know you know you’re beautiful, but you’re also so smart, and strong-willed, and a force to be reckoned with. I’m proud to have you on my team, and I’d be proud… to have you climb me like a tree.” He smiles again, just the barest hint of one, and you put your arms around him and pull him closer for a kiss.

One long, slow, perfect kiss turns into another, then another, and he presses your back against the counter, his hands on your face and your hands on his thick waist; you hum into the kiss, revel in the feel of his lips on yours, his tongue sweeping past them, and when you pull back for air it feels like there’s only one question that needs to be asked.

“Bedroom?” you breathe, and he nods, and you take his hand and pull him in that direction, pausing to kiss him several times before you get there. “You don’t happen to have a condom, do you?” you ask, breathless, guiding him to the bed, and he frowns, shakes his head.

“I didn’t want to seem presumptuous.” You grin at that, lean forward and kiss him, your fingers in his hair.

“I find it so hot that you even say presumptuous. I might have one here somewhere.” You open your nightstand, move around books and toys until you find a couple; you flip them over, checking to see if they’re expired, and offer him a couple options. “They’re still good, surprisingly. You can, uh. Choose the one that would work best.”

He looks them over, picks one and hands back the rest, and you throw them back in the drawer and slide into his lap, wrap your arms around his shoulders.

“I’ve wanted you for so long,” he says, holding your waist as you look down at him, completely in awe that this is happening. “But I want to clarify: if you’re looking for something casual, I don’t think we should go any further.” You inhale softly, surprised by his straightforwardness, and you lean in, kiss him slowly.

“I don’t want casual. I want to be with you.” His eyes are so brilliant, dark in the dim light of your bedroom, and he nods, presses his lips to yours and slides his hands beneath your top, guides it over your head. Then they move to your shorts, slipping them gently off your hips, and you stand so he can push them to the ground.

You’re both breathing heavily, a little rough, and you step between his legs, kiss him again, run your hands down his chest, closing your eyes with a sigh because you finally get to feel him after a year of just imagining what it would be like. After a beat, you open your eyes, look into his, smile.

“Really grateful for Casual Friday,” you whisper. “Otherwise you might never have found out I’m kind of in love with you.” You ease the polo over his head, drop it on the ground and encourage him to stand so you can take off his pants; he does, but before you can drop to your knees as planned, he takes your face in his hands, presses one soft kiss against your mouth.

“I’m more than kind of in love with you.” Oh, if that isn’t the greatest sentence your ears have ever heard… You wrap your arms around his neck, kiss a little more, forgetting that you planned to finish undressing him; when you remember, you make quick work of it, then have him lay back against the bed and settle between his legs.

You put your mouth on him because you want to, more than anything, and his hand drops to your hair, caressing you while you suck slowly, deeply, holding him with one hand and pressing against his stomach with the other. His moans are soft and gorgeous, his body tense beneath your hand, and you’d do this all night, but he murmurs your name, coaxes you up, puts his hands on your back as you settle against him.

“You’re so incredible. I never would have imagined I’d get this, get you,” he breathes, skimming his hands over your sides and hips, and you kiss softly, steamy and sweet.

“Me neither.” You lean up, make space for him to roll on the condom, and then press him inside; your breath hitches, and so does his, and you lay on top of him, chest to chest, stomach to stomach, arms around each other tightly while you move. “Hmm. Aaron,” you sigh, hair falling around him, and he groans, digs his fingertips into your hips.

“Sounds so perfect coming out of your mouth.” You smile, but it slips away when he surges up to kiss you, leans up so he’s sitting with you in his lap. He slides a broad hand up your back, wraps it around the nape of your neck, and pumps his hips up as you sink down, eliciting a series of soft, eager moans from the both of you.

“Feels like I’ve waited so long; I’ve never wanted someone as badly as I wanted you,” you tell him, chest heaving, and he brings you to him for a kiss, something a little rougher, less refined. He’s getting close.

“Never. You make me feel so much.” You reach back against his leg for support, work harder to bring him off, and when he comes he crushes his mouth against yours, delicious and more uncontrolled than you’ve ever seen him. He chants your name, so soft and sweet rolling off of his tongue, and then gets you on your back so he can press deeply inside.

You feel so incredibly full, panting beneath him, your hands on his waist and your feet on the backs of his thighs; his perfect face is inches from yours, all shallow breaths and decadent, passionate kisses, and when you climax you pull him closer, sigh, unravel completely in his embrace.

Maybe good things do happen after all. You hold each other and talk for a while, after a quick pitstop to the restroom, and then your stomach growls—understandably, since the only thing to fill it since lunch was that stupid cheesecake—and Hotch orders takeout on his phone from bed; god bless technology.

There’s a knock at the door twenty minutes later, and you know that’s quick for your favorite Thai place, but you’re not complaining because you’re officially starving. He offers to grab it, throws on his boxers and heads for the living room; after a few minutes, you wonder what’s taking so long, pull on your robe and go to check on him.

Hotch is talking to Derek, who is standing in your living room with a piece of cheesecake and a shit eating grin.

“I came with a peace offering, but now I think I’ll wait for a, ‘Thank you, Derek,’” he says, and you roll your eyes, stalk over and take the cheesecake out of his hands. You give it to Hotch, lean up to kiss Derek on the cheek, and push him toward the door.

“Thank you, Derek. Go away, Derek,” you say with a smile of your own, and he raises his palms and retreats down the hall, laughing as he goes.

This is just one more thing he’ll tease you mercilessly about, but this time the benefits outweigh the costs. Taglist ❤️: @arsonhotchner @mrsh0tchner @ssahotchie @sleepyreaderreads @mintphoenix @meghannnnnn @disgruntledchowchow @azenpal @g-l-pierce @my-rosegold-soul @ssamorganhotchner