#Aaron Hotchner x reader fluff

[chithereader]

jealousy, jealousy / aaron hotchner

here’s my masterlist! pairing: aaron hotchner x bau!reader / shy!reader word count: 2.4k genre & cw: fluff, a little jealousy and pining angst if u squint, mentions of made-up case, different use of cm character a/n: thank u so much for all the support i've been getting on my fics!! hope you love this one as much as i do, i really enjoyed writing this one the most!

Today was a bad day. That much was clear. From the moment you woke up to the minute you arrived at the BAU– you’re convinced that the universe has simply gone the extra mile to make your life a little harder. 

You slept through your alarm and a few phone calls from Garcia, making your morning stressful and complete chaos. You didn’t have time to grab a cup of coffee or a snack, and apparently you also didn’t have time to remove the colorful pimple patches that adorned your face. 

Your blouse is buttoned asymmetrically, your hair resembling a bird's nest, and you left your ID at home, making your arrival more delayed as you had to employ Garcia’s help in presenting a copy of your ID to let you through. 

That too was not without stress given that your phone was on the verge of dying as you were in the call, but thankfully you could finally breathe in the elevator. Or so you thought. 

There were two things that immediately caught you off guard as you walked into the bullpen: one, almost all the desks were deserted and two, Reid and Morgan were watching you- as if waiting for your reaction, which led you to look around in anticipation. Is there a surprise? A prank? Did I miss a patch? I’m…wearing pants, right? 

Not wanting to prolong your search, you look at the two for any indication or clue. Tilting your head to the side as if to ask what? But to your surprise, they both nod their heads in one direction. Oh.

Strauss was in Hotch’s office, along with Rossi and a woman you don’t recognize. Hotch looked a bit tense, Strauss firm, Rossi is as relaxed as ever, and the woman… is looking directly at Hotch. Just Hotch. Huh. 

You were stood just shy of your desk when you shook thoughts out of your head, slowly approaching your desk to settle your things. Dozens of scenarios were running through your head, trying to make sense of new additions to an otherwise normal day. 

But the way she was studying him made your chest tight like someone was stepping on it.. and you couldn’t figure out why. 

You approach the two rascals only to lean on Derek’s desk as you whisper under your breath, “What’s happening there?” 

Morgan shrugs but his focused face remains, “I don’t know, kid. I tried Garcia but she doesn’t have a clue either.” Eyes studying the people in the room, noting anything that could tell them something. 

Mulling over more possibilities, you hum in response. Turning to Reid, you ask him- hoping that his eidetic memory can tell you anything about the woman even if they’d only met in passing. 

“Do you know anything, Spence?” But Reid only pouts at you, a sign that he’s thought about it hard but is coming up empty. 

Shaking his head, he soberly replies, “No..I don’t think so. I– I’ve never seen her before. Sorry.” 

Before any more thoughts could be voiced between the three of you, the door to Hotch’s office opens and all four of them file out- the woman walking a little too close to Hotch. 

-

You’re approaching your usual seat on the jet beside Morgan and across from Hotch when suddenly Agent Seaver overtakes you and sits on your seat. Caught by surprise, your eyes instinctively go to Hotch who’s already looking at you. 

He nods to himself, moving from the aisle seat to the one by the window. But it appears Agent Seaver misunderstood his gesture and moved beside him, “Oh! Thank you, sir.” Even going as far as touching his arm and leaning closely. 

Now, you’ve never been a violent person. Rage has just never overcome your senses like that but today.. of all days– you couldn’t help the image of spilling your hot chocolate all over her cream blouse. 

You don’t even notice that you’re frowning as you sit beside Morgan, somehow still unaware of how much their closeness really upsets you. You honestly thought you’ve maintained an expressionless face until Morgan looks up from his file and leans close to whisper in your ear, “You’ll need claws not paws, baby girl.” Winking at you as you separate. 

You steal a glance at Hotch only to see him watching you and Morgan with furrowed brows. He almost looks normal if it weren’t for the clenching of his jaw that’s his tell of irritation. Moving your gaze to Seaver, in case you missed something that’s causing his new mood, you find her reading the case file. 

As you return your gaze on Hotch, you watch as Seaver touches his arm again and engages him in conversation about the case. It’s through the whole jet ride that you had to stomach the constant Agent Hotchner, Agent Hotchner! paired with a giggle or a slight touch. UGH!

If it weren’t for Strauss personally recommending Agent Seaver as a consultant for this case, you would have done– …still absolutely nothing. You had no claim whatsoever over Hotch. Morgan and Rossi may tease the two of you occasionally, forcing that he treats you specially or whatever but his behavior could simply be chalked off as him being a good and attentive boss. 

And yes, okay fine. You may have some moments here and there… but! they could honestly just be built up in your head because of the feelings you have for him. Like when he said he likes it when you stare? Come on, being stared at can be flattering and that’s just a universal truth. 

- 

After a whole day of coming up with theories, visiting crime scenes and M.E.’s, you’re all completely spent. Lounging in the makeshift discussion room, all of you are still working tirelessly on the case given that the unsub’s on a spree and his timeline is alarmingly short. 

Reid’s been silently staring at the board for 20 minutes while Morgan’s pretending to read files of potential suspects with his legs stretched out and feet on the table, “This is impossible. We just don’t have enough.” He exclaims as he tosses the file on the table with a thud. 

To the left of Morgan, you’re also silently mulling over files of potential suspects. Not wanting to admit that he’s right, you guys don’t have enough…bodies. You barely have anything on the guy, barely any clues- for a working profile. 

You sigh heavily, peeling your eyes off the paper and looking at the board. “Reid?” The boy genius shakes his head softly, confirming that the known dump sites don’t say much about the unsub’s comfort zones or hunting ground. 

You suddenly wonder where Seaver, Hotch and Rossi are. You and Morgan got back to the precinct at around 11PM, and you realize you haven’t seen any of them, “Where are the others?” 

Morgan, in an effort to lighten the mood, jumps at the chance to tease you, “Hmm. I think what you’re really asking is: Where’s Hotch and is he with Seaver?” He punches your arm lightly, making it obvious he’s only teasing. 

The smug, playful smile on his face makes you fight one of your own, desperately trying to not give yourself away, “Shut up,” hitting him in the head softly with the file in your hand. 

While you two were exchanging playful glares, Reid interjects, “Seaver wanted to turn in early since she’s also the one meeting with the families tomorrow so Hotch brought her to the hotel.” 

You instantly lift your gaze to him and watch as he removes the marker’s cap and scribbles rapidly on the board, quickly adding “And I’m pretty sure Rossi’s getting us coffee from the diner around the block.” 

You want to blame it on your exhaustion– your inability and ineffectiveness at hiding how you truly feel about what Reid just revealed to you, groaning loudly in pain and frustration. You put your head in your hands, muffling the sounds you’re making that are somehow a combination of a laugh and a sob. 

Morgan understands your reaction immediately and laughs out loud. 

“It’s not funny!” There was honestly no point in hiding it. As much as Morgan teased you, you knew he wouldn’t tell anyway, and Reid.. well, he was honestly an even better keeper of secrets than Morgan, Rossi and Garcia. 

He puts a hand on your shoulder to comfort you, “Baby girl, worry not. You know you hold a special place in boss man’s heart.” Then gripping both your wrists to pry your hands off your face. 

Pressing your face even further into your hands, you let out a muffled version of “That’s not true!” that came out more as “Daffs noft thwu!” 

When Morgan successfully pries your hands off your face, you’re surprised to see Reid’s moved from the board to behind Morgan, half leaning half sitting on the table, curiously watching you. 

Morgan turns around to look at the door behind you, making sure the coast is clear before he says, “Kid. Be real with me for a sec… are you blind?” That was not the question you were expecting. 

You must have looked so lost because he continues, “Hotch cares for you. Deeply. And not in the same way he does for us. You’ve gotta have felt that, kid.” Funny, you are starting to feel like a kid– the only thing missing are his hands on your shoulders to complete that huddle pep talk experience. 

“That’s just not–” you try to start. But Reid swiftly raises his hand, signing you to stop–

“Did you know that every morning Hotch makes sure all the pens and mug handles on your desk are pointing to the right– the way you need it to be– in case the night janitors move any out of place?”

“Or that he never really ate lunch in the office before but started bringing sandwiches and other food he could microwave, while timing his lunches with yours presumably so he could strike up a conversation with you during break?” 

“Or do you remember that one time the AC in the bullpen broke and we were all sweating badly, and I said the heat was making me too thirsty then he disappeared into his office and came back with a bottle of water and an orange juice box only to give it to you?” 

Morgan lets out a loud laugh at that one while Reid pouts playfully, “I mean I was genuinely dying then.” 

Not without his own input, Morgan smiles softly at you with a raised brow “Did you know he personally restocks your favorite hot chocolate in the pantry and on the jet? Including the marshmallows.” 

You breathe in deeply, the revelations sounding too good to be true but winding nonetheless. You crack a small joke, trying to play it off “And I thought the bureau was just feeling really generous.” 

The two, who have grown to be such brothers, give you the exact same look of Really? 

As Reid rounds the table to go back and stand by the board, Morgan catches your attention and holds your eye, “Look, there’s so much more, kid. But they all point to the same thing.” He says this as softly as possible, as if to not scare you away. 

You let out a soft, breathy laugh. Shaking your head, “That just can’t be true.” 

With all three of your backs to the door, you don’t notice Rossi nearing. You just suddenly hear his voice from behind, rounding the table and settling the coffee cups in front of all of you, “Coffee, anyone?” 

As if trapped in the null of the previous conversation, you’re still looking at Morgan as you lean back in your chair, slumping further to seek non-existent cover. Reid, who is now back in his own world with the board, is handed a cup by Rossi, who didn’t even turn to look- only stretching out an arm to receive it and mumbling a distracted “Thanks.”  

Rossi, who is simply too smart for his own good, impressively senses something hanging in the air, nonchalantly asking about the tailend of a conversation he was not supposed to hear, “So… what can’t be true?” 

Back to lounging excessively on a chair that is a tad too tiny for him, with legs outstretched and feet on the corner on the table– Morgan spouts, “That she’s Hotch’s girl, and has no reason to be jealous of Seaver– who by the way needs the HR orientation more than Penelope and I.” 

-

Now– all of your backs are to the door except Rossi’s. Not one of you tried to move due to fatigue, let alone look.

Unbeknownst to you, Morgan, and Reid, on the way back to the precinct from the hotel, Hotch had the genius thought of picking up Rossi so the latter wouldn’t have to walk a block with trays of coffee on hand.

Hotch and Rossi arrived together. And as Rossi went around the table to give you your cups of coffee, Hotch stayed behind– leaning on the doorframe with arms crossed, watching you and the team.

Imagine his surprise, hearing what Morgan just said. His heart skipped a beat, his stomach dropped. His entire being froze entirely.. What? Jealous? 

In his mind, he had two choices: Act like he didn’t hear it and save you from embarrassment or use it to his advantage and make his intentions clear..ish. 

-

You gasp loudly at his bluntness– and in front of Rossi! Straightening in your chair and pointing an accusatory finger at Morgan, “You little– I am NOT jealous! and I am NOT Hotch’s–” 

Cut off by someone loudly clearing their throat from behind all of you, you all freeze, including Reid who hasn’t been actively paying attention until now. 

The hair on your neck stands up as you hear the nearing footsteps, already envisioning digging your own grave in your head when finally, Hotch is standing right beside you. 

You’re all still pretty frozen, save from the slow movement which is your eyes slowly lifting its gaze to the man in question until they meet his hazel orbs. He holds your stare as he leans on the desk, arms straining in his shirt– 

Out of the corner of your eye you can see Rossi fighting a smile, and just as you’re about to mentally curse him in your head, you’re broken out of your thoughts by a deep voice, 

“You don’t think you’re my girl?” 

[softestqueeen]

✧*̥˚aaron hotchner fic recs *̥˚✧

here are some of my favourite fics with my favourite unit chief aaron hotchner! yes, they are almost all x reader. *very ashamed sigh (not)*

✧*̥˚ smut *̥˚✧

spoiled by @mariasont

pathetic hotch by @ddejavvu

bereal with hotch by @ddejavvu

i can see you by @kimstills

so it goes by @cimmanonrowl

savor by @kimstills

west coast by @minswriting

casual by @dashofghost

✧*̥˚ fluff*̥˚✧

taking care of him drabble by @luveline

serendipity by @hannibals-favourite-meal

sleepy reader blurb by @luveline

jealous aaron drabble by @luveline

hungover by @basketonthedoorstepofthefbi

spontaneous phenomenon by @luveline

drunk confessions by @miley1442111

down we go by @hotchner-edu

eyes don't lie by @hotchner-edu

public displays of affection by @ssahotchnerr

something more by @headkiss

definitely not old by @ladycaramelswirl

pillow talk by @louvaine

pandora's box by @hotchner-edu

beanstalk by @solardrop

protective aaron blurb by @mrs-weasley-reid

✧*̥˚ angst & hurt/comfort*̥˚✧

the analyst's arrival by @thewulf

pining hotch by @luveline

clingy by @miley1442111

blame by @kimstills

go ahead and cry, little girl by @undiscl0sed-desir3s

insecurity by @miley1442111

✧*̥˚ honorable mentions*̥˚✧

authors i've read a lot and their masterlists!

@mrs-weasley-reid her masterlist I her fic recs

@luvelinetheir masterlist

my criminal minds masterlist

if you want your work removed, dm me!

more recs

[avis-writeshq]

hello 😘 aaron hotchner drabble request!

anything with jealousy and possessiveness but in a natural normal way not a joe goldberg way haha

and also - aaron sees you wearing his hoodie/shirt drabble!

thank you and your work is amazing!

pairing: aaron hotchner x bau!fem!reader genre: established relationship, aaron is a little (a lot) upset warnings: misogynistic moron >:( reader wears a skirt, if you get the reference ily a/n: i wrote it and the more i wrote the more i realised that it... really isn't the same at all :( if you want me to redo it, please send me an ask !! thank you lovely <3 wc: 631

“You would think that he would know by now,” Emily hums, her tone disapproving and mostly disappointed as she watches from a distance as Captain Pembroke attempts to chat you up. 

“He’s a captain?” Spencer asks in genuine amazement. 

“For NYPD’s major crime unit,” JJ confirms, her arms crossed over her chest. “He tried to hit on Emily a couple days ago, and on Amy from the fourth floor. I wouldn’t be surprised it he has some sort of sealed file on him.”

Emily scoffs a little, rolling her eyes. “Sounds like a charmer.”

“The bigger question is, does Hotch know?” Derek pipes up as he glances in your direction.

“Well…” JJ lets out a nervous laugh. “I kind of hope he doesn’t.”

You offer a curt smile in Pembroke’s direction, doing everything in your power to subtly signal that you really should be leaving. Fiddling with the loose threads of your shirt, averting eye contact, taking tiny steps away in hopes that he’ll somehow get the message. It isn’t surprising that he doesn’t. 

“I beat my PR yesterday, you know,” he brags, flexing his muscles. You think you’re about to throw up as he continues, “129. Impressive, right, hun?”

“The average amount of pounds an untrained man can lift is 135,” you respond dismissively in an attempt to lean into Spencer’s way of getting people to leave him alone, but Pembroke doesn’t seem to hear you. 

“You know, sweets, I don’t think you should even be in this job. You’re far too foxy,” he says with a wink, “You’d be better in a different job. I mean, women aren’t fit for these types of roles. They get too emotional.”

You refrain from punching his face as it will only prove his point. “Listen, Ken–”

“It’s Keith–”

“Kyle,” you amend with a sickly smile. “I do need to get these files to Agent Rossi, so if you’ll excuse me…”

“Aw, come on, it was only a joke,” Pembroke says with a laugh. “It’ll be fine–”

“There you are.”

You don’t think you’ve ever felt more relieved in your life. Aaron’s hand rests flat against your back, dangerously close to the waistband of your skirt and he stands behind you. Aaron is a good couple of inches taller than Pembroke, especially when he stands at his full height, his dark eyed narrowed and his jaw clenched. 

“Did you need something from my agent, Captain?” He asks lowly. 

“Just pleasant conversation,” Pembroke responds dismissively.

Aaron raises an eyebrow, his gaze shifting from your uncomfortable frown to the captain’s smug face. “We have three missing women and you are disturbing an investigation by disrupting my agents. I suggest you get your act together before I report you to your superiors for harassment.”

He doesn’t bother waiting for a response, guiding you by the small of your back towards his makeshift office in the New York Police Office. He doesn’t say a word until the door is firmly closed and the blinds are drawn. 

“Are you alright?” He asks softly, taking a step towards you and curling his fingers by your cheekbone. “I heard what he said. Do you want me to report it?”

“I’ve dealt with worse.” You don’t mean to sound so honest when you say it and his frown deepens.

“That’s not okay, honey.” Aaron presses a kiss to your forehead. “I’ll report it. You know how it is with cases like these; someone just has to put the first step forward.”

You smile at that, poking at his cheeks. “I thought you were going to hit him.”

“I thought you would’ve beat me to it,” he admits through a quiet laugh, giving you a proper kiss. “We shouldn’t make this into a habit.”

“Tell that to Kimberly.”

“That isn’t even close.”

reblogs are always appreciated!

events page

[reidingandallthat]

a touch, a glance (a.h)

hotch gives in to your incessant pleadings, a touch, one kiss all before he can remind you of workplace conducts, however reluctant he might be.

aaron hotchner x bau!reader

words: 800+ (a tiny one for starters)

cw: fluff and only fluff, reader is wearing glasses because of a headache, headache balms (?), reader has migraine problems (yes this was a little self indulgent), established relationship, hotch is a sweetheart, first time writing for this fandom pls spare me, i also don't remember if it was called briefing room or not

You had taken up the job of looking through video files, thinking maybe you shouldn't be on the field today with your blinding headache. That had turned out to be a bad decision. Staring at a screen for hours and hours does not do one any good, especially not for someone with a migraine headache.

Your eyes were perpetually watery, yawns after yawns taking over you, forcing your body back to sleep but it was only 8 pm. And no one was even close to finishing the case, and you had to finish this.

But when even pressing down on your forehead with a heat pad isn't helping anymore, you pause the screen and let your head rest against the chair.

The office was empty, most of the workers home or out. The briefing room felt awfully quiet as you paused the screen, but you heard light footsteps coming closer and closer. 

Your eyes open and there he is, with that soft smile that's barely there, he still has his frown. He can be quite scary when he frowns, but now it just makes you laugh. Your smile widens as you see your boss-turned- boyfriend, looking at you with pity and curiosity.

“Are you alright?” He asks, his voice also soft. He's testing whether or not you're cranky, you don't blame him. There's been enough proof of meltdowns over concerned questions when your migraine takes over. You'd tease him about it if you weren't so tired.

“Baby…” You whine, your hands stretching towards where he stood, looking at him through your glasses, something you had borrowed after the headache had started hurting your eyes.

He purses his lips, clearly disapproving of your use of the pet name in the office.

He sits down beside you and takes your outstretched hands into his. He may show his disappointment, but he still loves you, he won't refuse you what you want.

You pout when you weren't given what you asked for, which you never really made it known, you kind of assumed he already knew. And you were right, he did know, that's why his frown was deeper now. You chuckled lightly, but the action only hurt your already painful headache, the already present frown on your face deepening.

“Kiss?” You ask innocently, looking at him through your glasses, giving him a honey sweet look. You'd feel bad about manipulating him into giving you a kiss, but was your boyfriend, he shouldn't be complaining. 

“Honey, you know the rules.” He says comfortingly.

You whine again, shaking your intertwined hands,

“Please, one kiss.” Your other hand fixes the few stray hairs that were out of place, hand sliding down to the nape of his neck, caressing his face with your thumb.

“Just one. I'd feel so much better.” You say, the pout is still present on your face, hiding an amused smirk. He finds that he doesn't like when you have to say please for a kiss, something he'd give you without asking. 

He leans in for a peck, and that's what it stays for a few seconds before both your arms wrap around his neck, pushing yourself closer to him. He's warm, and he still smells good which is unlike your situation, the stench of balms and ointments surrounding you. He probably isn't enjoying kissing you as much as you are, you think, but Aaron would disagree if he heard you. 

He had someone, willingly asking him to be close, to kiss and he had the nerve to deny it. He shouldn't have the right. So he indulges you for a while, lets you do what you want, and complies with your silent orders.

Your hands cup his face when you two detach and you smile so wide, Hotch dips his head down to hide a growing smile. You follow his movements, giving his lips another peck before peppering his face with more kisses. 

You're giggling when he stops you, distancing himself from you. You're half in his lap already, and he needs to go do paperwork. The world is a cruel one.

“This is why we have rules against kissing in the office.” Hotch says, light pink blush dusting his cheeks. You giggle again, your eyes tired and droopy, a teasing smile on your face. 

He removed himself from you and stood up, hands still intertwined. He bends down to kiss your knuckles before leaving when he hears, “I’ll miss you, bossman.”

“Don't call me that, and finish your work.” He tried to be stern but his tone is nothing like he would use with his employees, though it might raise some eyebrows if he did. 

[hotchnerwrites]

Hiii🤍

Can you write something where Hotchner is obsessed with the reader but in a good way, like he can't keep his hands off of her???🥹maybe if you feel comfortable you can put a situation where he feels a little jealous,I love it so much when men are possessive in a gentle way with their partner!!!

Take this only if you feel comfortable, I send you my love!

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x reader

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: SFW, touchy obsessed Hotch, jealous Hotch, quiet intimate moments, domestic fluff ehehehe, no use of (y/n), reader is referred to as girlfriend/wife a couple times, established!relationship

A/N: My dear Anon, I am so sorry for the wait. I hope that this will be worth it. Some crazy stuff was happening in my family and I had to fly out of town last minute. I started this in my Notes app, and here we are, three versions later. I loved this request so much, I always jump at the chance to write fluff (or angst!). I had such a fun time writing. Oh how I wish Hotch was real :') Anyways, I really hope you like it! Enjoy reading 🤍

PS. Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays, and consider this my gift to you <3 Sending all of you all my love. Requests are open :) Send me stuff!

Dividers by @/cafekitsune

Smart, stoic Supervisory Special Agent Aaron Hotchner. One of the BAU’s best profilers. One of the best prosecutors Washington D.C. has ever seen. Permanent frown on his face and an impenetrable emotional wall, he was not known to wear his heart on his sleeve. It was a persona he had spent several years cultivating. But they didn’t know him like you did. They didn’t know how he was around you, how he looked at you. It wasn’t just that— it was the way he moved around you, the quiet insistence that you were always close, always near.

You first realised how present Hotch was at the FBI’s annual Christmas gala. It was so subtle in the beginning, the way Aaron threaded through the room with you, a steady hand on your back, palm warm against your skin. It was the kind of touch that was imperceptible to anyone who wasn’t paying attention. But you felt it the entire night, four and a half hours in total. He didn’t let go of you once.

Despite this being the first formal event that you attended with Aaron, you never once felt anxious navigating the sea of handshakes and pleasantries. You met at least twenty new faces in under thirty minutes, forgetting names as fast as you learned them. Aaron’s hand was on your waist the entire time, steady and protective, guiding you through conversations, fending off curious coworkers with a soft, almost unnoticeable shift of his body between you and them. It was effortless- he even managed to hold both your drinks in one hand when you passed him something. 

By the end of the night, you realised something. You weren’t just his girlfriend; you were his partner, a quiet and unspoken claim that he did not need to announce.

The second thing that you noticed was the neck massages. It didn’t matter if Hotch had just come home from a week-long case or if it was a lazy Sunday. The moment he found you with your back to him - whether at the kitchen island, curled up with a book in an armchair, or even napping on the couch— he would materialise silently, his large hands moving to the nape of your neck.

It was a gentle pressure, expert fingers kneading the tension in your muscles. This was intimate in a wholesome way. He knew your body better than anyone, maybe even yourself. His palms were calloused and rough, but when they were touching you, it felt like the finest silk on earth. 

When his hands drew delicate circles, your world would fade away in contentment. Sometimes, Aaron would press his lips lightly against your temple. These quiet moments are as precious to you as special nights out. 

The third time was the ‘Lunch Incident’. You laugh about it now, but it’s not lost on you how lucky you are to see this side of Hotch. It was supposed to be a simple lunch drop-off at the office. As you greeted Emily and Derek, Aaron strode over towards you, legs moving so fast you’re sure his brain hadn’t even fully processed his actions. His smile when he saw you wasn’t just a casual ‘hello’ but something deeper, something more felt. And when he pressed a soft kiss against your lips, with that signature intensity, you noticed Agent Anderson nearly dropping his coffee in pure shock. The poor man, having just witnessed Hotch, the ever-professional Hotch, kiss his partner like he had no other care in the world, had gone pale. You couldn’t stop the grin stretching across your face. Hotch didn’t stop looking at you the entire time. Sometimes, he couldn’t believe you were real and that you were his. 

The fourth time, you just knew. It was a ritual, the movie nights. When you settled on the couch, ready for your favourite period film, you already knew how it would go. Ever so meticulous, Aaron would drape your favourite blanket over the two of you. But there was just something about the way he did it. He pulled you to his side, wrapping an arm around your shoulders like he needed you there more than he needed to breathe. And you’d fit yourself under his arm, cosy and safe, while the movie played. But truthfully, it was never the movie that held his attention. It was you. The way you reacted to every scene. The tiny furrow between your brows when something sad happened or the way your eyes sparkled during particularly romantic scenes. Aaron would never say this out loud, but he couldn’t care less about the films you watched. He cared about you. Watching you breathe, tracing circles on your shoulders, memorising the feel of your skin under his touch. He was always watching you, though you never caught him. 

And Hotch never made a big deal about it, but you knew those small touches meant the world to him. He was the profiler, but you noticed his antics too. When you handed him something, his fingers would always brush yours, slow and deliberate. You felt that electric spark dance across your skin each time, like he was quietly staking his claim. You always pretended not to notice, but in truth, you were just as addicted to those touches as he was. The way his hand lingered for a second too long, soft warm spreading from his touch. The kind of touch that made you feel like you were the only two people in the room. 

Honestly, it was getting ridiculous. He set his alarm early every day, just to spend an extra couple of minutes cuddling you. The moment that familiar tune rang out, he’d shift his broad frame, tangle his limbs with yours and pull you closer. Aaron never wanted this to end. So much so that he called in sick a few times, citing your refusal to free him from your clutches as the reason. But you both knew it was because he wanted to feel your hands card through his hair longer as he dozed on your chest. Neither of you said much during times like this. Still groggy from sleep, you both would just bask in each other’s quiet comfort. 

One day, when you were cleaning up his desk, you found it. The secret file. Tucked away in the back of one drawer lay a brown file with your name on it. You really hadn’t meant to snoop, but curiosity overrode manners at that moment. It wasn’t until you opened it that you realised what it exactly was. It was every story you had told Aaron about yourself, and every detail he noticed about you. Likes. Dislikes. Pet peeves. Your dreams. Your favourite songs. The small things—things no one else would have thought to note down, things only someone who really knew you would remember. He’d colour-coded it, as if it was a map of your soul.

You hadn’t meant to look through it, but when you did, a lump formed in your throat. It wasn’t a secret—just his way of keeping you close. And you realised, with a sniffle, that you’d never felt more cherished in your entire life.

When winter would roll around, you realised that despite spending years with this man, you could never quite predict when it would happen. But every time it did, you pretended to protest. Hotch would press his palms under your shirt, claiming that his fingers were frozen. This was always an assault on your senses. “I’m freezing!” you’d yell, but you knew what he was doing. He wasn’t trying to warm his hands. He wanted to feel your skin against his. You never pointed out the fact that his palms were always warm within seconds, that his body was a natural space heater. No, instead, you let him pull you in even closer, shivering as his hands traced light lines up your spine. You didn’t mind it at all.

Bonus

There was only one time that Aaron used his Unit Chief voice around you. It was something he had always been careful to avoid; he hated bringing any aspect of work home with him. But it was warranted that time, he justified. 

He had just stepped away for one second from your side at the local café. The barista had just called out your names, and he had gone to pick up your drinks (black coffee for him, surprise, surprise, and a ridiculously sweet frappé for you). In those few moments that he was gone and you’d been standing alone, staring wistfully at the pastries on display, a man had sidled up to you. He had a patchy ginger beard, and with a reedy voice, he had asked you if he could buy you coffee. In hindsight, the man had been perfectly polite, but Aaron’s blood had boiled. You had a gobsmacked expression on your face as you struggled to respond, and the man had stepped even closer. Aaron quickly snatched up your order and made his way to you. 

“Here’s your drink, honey,” Aaron said, voice low but tone soft. You gratefully accept the distraction as the man swings his head towards Aaron incredulously.

“Excuse me,” he began shrilly, “do you mind?”

Aaron fixed him with a Look. “That’s my wife you’re talking to. Can I help you in any way?” He said coolly. 

The man baulked, muttered a quick apology and scrambled off. 

As you and Aaron leave the café hand-in-hand, you can’t help the smile forming on your face. You tuck your face into Aaron’s bicep to hide your blush. 

Wife. Not girlfriend. Wife.

The sun suddenly shone brighter that day.

Thank you for reading. Likes, reblogs, comments and follows are appreciated! Constructive criticism is welcome :) Do not plagiarise my content and/or post it anywhere without crediting me.

[bau-drabbles]

a/n: all over the place lmfao, fluff with hotch <3 very rushed lolz!!

let me know if you'd like one with spencer or a nsfw one 🤍

aaron hotchner ♡ who swore to himself that love simply wasn't meant to be after haley passed was now helping baking with you, frowning playfully when your fingers hover over the chocolate chips and placing them on top of the fridge when you keep eating them all. he sighs after a few minutes and gives them back to you, your pout too cute to resist but you make up for it with kisses. they taste sweeter to him anyway <33

aaron hotchner ♡ who worked to the bone as an escape from his personal life, finds himself becoming anxious when he's delayed and suddenly working overtime. he has to try to resist the temptation to become frustrated since he is the unit chief after all, but the fact that you're waiting for him at home is enough for him to risk his job and drop everything and run straight into your arms. he tries to reign in his impatience but it's hard when every precious minute that ticks by, he could be bundled up in your arms and watching a movie together. he doesn't care which one, so long as it makes you happy. and when he finally does rush back home, the very first thing he does is take you in his arms and kiss your sleepy face with such tenderness it warms your whole body <33

aaron hotchner ♡ who used to spend the nights alone in his bed, hating to go to sleep because he wouldn't have any restful dreams now looked forwards to the snuggles you'd give him curled up in the bed. needing your body weight on him as if a weighted blanket to help him and keep him calm throughout the night. it's the way your body molds so perfectly to his, your hands interlaced, he can overcome anything like this. such a love couldn't be allowed with him being a high profile fbi agent, admittedly it was difficult finding the line between work and pleasure. but unlike all the failed attempts before you, you were the first to actually listen and understand his situation. the first to be sympathetic and knowing at how delicate the line had to be. he didn't like lying to you but you never put him in that position to ever do so. his dreams are much sweeter with you now <33

aaron hotchner ♡ who walked around with a stern frown and a set face now breaks into a small smile whenever he sees you near. his dimples are more prone to showing around you more even when he doesn't realise it. many a times has morgan and emily tease him when he's leaning against his chair deep in thought with a soft smile on his lips as he thinks of you. he doesn't have the energy to hide it anymore. he rolls his eyes when they make comments but he knows deep down they're true. he's happier with you, he's become better with you. you've got him wrapped your pretty lil finger and don't he know it <33

aaron hotchner ♡ who was used to being an only parent for years was shocked at how kind and willing you were to jack as if he was your son. how understanding you'd be to tuck him in whenever he worked the long cases. he can't count how many times he's been lost, leaning against the doorway while he sees his son and you, absorbed together in a show or a book and how much fun you both have together in an activity. he could only stand there as the warmness creeps through his heart like a ray of sun, hearing the beautiful sounds of your laughter mixed with jack's. how innocent and carefree you both sounded, the delightful harmony always played in his head whenever he thinks of the two of you <33

aaron hotchner ♡ who was always fine doing things himself since he didn't have anyone to rely on now had separation anxiety when you were gone too long. he calms himself down as best as he can but when you're not in his arms for long, he's prone to becoming anxious. he doesn't want to be clingy or unbearable but you're his anchor in this treacherous world. keeping him grounded when his world has tilted on his axis. his calmness when there's trouble and his relief when the hardships are there. suddenly all the boring and menial tasks such as cooking and shopping are so much fun with you as you both playfully argue over what to buy. he always picks you up a treat no matter what, you're just his love <33

aaron hotchner ♡ who thought his world ended when haley died found renewed comfort in a new world waiting for him with you as he waited for you teary eyed at the end of the aisle. trying to hold back the tears because you look like an angel, an angel he didn't even know he deserved to have. you always reassure him but as you walk closer and closer, he just wants to take you in his arms and never let you go. the second your hands touch his, a shiver of delights runs through his body and calms his mind. you were his and he was yours, certainly no doubt about it. the years may not have been kind to him but you were a beacon of light throughout it all, this time you were his knight in shining armour. you saved him, even when he didn't realise it <33

and finally, aaron hotchner ♡ who thought it would be him and jack alone together now had you and a baby girl. his eyes shining with tears, kissing your forehead as he looks to the baby sleeping on your chest. he has jack in his arms, looking at his family with pure adoration. and when he gets the chance to hold the baby girl that he helped make, the tears fall all over again as he strokes her small forehead. noting all the similarities she had with you and him. watching jack hold her with shock and adoration at the prospect of his new sibling.

finally thanking the universe for his rock and now, his two kids <33

[p0ssywhippedcream]

teheeee so like

Aaron Hotchner shaves your legs for you. Man’s is a giver absolutely, he worships you with soft gazes and calloused hands and he adores when you indulge him.

You’re in the bathtub, a glass of wine in your hand and head tilted back on the tile as you lift your right leg and giggle at Aaron fingers sliding up your foot and grasping your ankle. He’s on his knees beside the bathtub, shirtless as he preps you.

“Hold still, Y/n.” He props your leg a bit higher and squirts some shaving cream on your calf with the other hand.

“‘M trying! It tickles,” You wiggle your toes and Aaron kisses the top of your foot as he picks up the razor.

As he drags the razor up your calf and takes off the strip of hair, you turn your head to sip at your chardonnay.

His eyes remain on your leg as he squeezes your ankle and moves you to get better angles, “How’s the wine, honey?”

You smile down at him, parting the liquid from your lips as you swallow the expensive gift from Aaron. “Amazing, you really treat me too good.”

He throws an incredulous look at you as he dunks your leg and shuffles a little closer to reach in the water and tug your left leg out. He holds it in the air a slightly odd angle leaving your stomach with creases as you bend to hold it up.

“This is the bare minimum for someone like you.” He says it with a finality that would shut almost everyone up. Almost.

“Aaron, there’s literally nothing more you could do for me. You do the absolute best you can.”

He raises his eyebrow, rolling your leg to the other side in his hand and dipping the razor in the swirly water. “I’m not home as often as I’d like to be.”

“And I have bad morning breath. I watch my shows too loud.” You put a finger on his lips when he goes to interrupt, the furrow of his face showing he knows where this is going, “I don’t send my family christmas cards, I forget the rules of card games every time. I drop things in the shower and it sounds like an earthquake.”

He looks away, thumb and forefinger toying with your big toe as he contemplates your words.

“Aaron,” You drop your finger from his lips and move it to his chin, his hard gaze melting into affectionate care at the eye contact, “It’s not perfect, and neither of us are, but if we had to have something be wrong with it, I’d rather it be because you’re saving lives then if, I dunno, one of us was sick. I’m glad the hardest part of our relationship is your big heart.”

You poke him just barely in the chest with a wet finger and go to pull your hand away but he recaptures it in his. He guides your finger to his chest again, a little lower and to the left and you understand he’s showing your where his heart is. You allow your hand to flatten, your whole palm covering the space he’s directed you to as you feel a soft beating under the surface.

“I love you,” He tells you, his mouth curved in the corners as his eyes see into your soul.

“I love you too.” You lean in to kiss him and only realize he was still holding your leg when it falls into the water from the change of angle and covers you both in a wave of suds and laughter.

[ebullientheart]

dogs. aaron hotchner x reader

content — dogs🤍. fluff. humour. fem!bau!reader. brief mention of case. one swear. sorta sunshine!reader.

5 times you try to convince hotch to get a dog with you +1 time it works.

1. the scent dogs

a frazzled officer had handed you the leads of two sniffer dogs, running away on the insistence his captain was going to ‘kill me for letting them piss on his van again’. you had snorted sympathetically, meaning to tell him you’d love to help out but your unit chief would be expecting you; he was already running away.

you laughed and accepted your fate, wrapping the leads tightly around your knuckles and sitting cross-legged with them. they were eager for your affection and silly voices, even though they were squashing you in their best attempt at hugging. two large german shepherds, but probably the friendliest police dogs you’d ever seen.

“how do these things always happen to you, agent?”

hotch saw the way your shoulders stiffened, and regretted scaring you. the dogs seemed to pick up on this too, turning to the man with low growls at his interruption. you stifled your mirth at their reaction and twisted on the spot to look up at your slightly formidable, but currently intimidated by the dogs, boss.

you chanced a shrug, careful not to dislodge the canine leaning on your shoulder, “one of many mysteries, sir. wanna say hi?”

the look he gave you then was priceless; it was pure disgust. but at your giddy grin, he did crack the smallest of smiles on the hard stone of his face.

i wish i could make him smile all the time. no, shut up.

your mind was not on your side as you tried not to flush, instead burying yourself in between the dogs and letting them yip happily at the attention.

“don’t you just want one of them forever? or maybe both. look how cute they are!” you put your face between theirs.

hotch risked a muffled laugh and extended a hand, wondering how you were an adult. instead of putting your palm in his own, though you were severely tempted, you handed him the leads for the dogs.

“careful, there’s an angry captain on the prowl with a piss stained van. okay paperwork, bye!”

like the officer before you, you were gone before he could open his mouth to reprimand you. not that he was planning on reprimanding you. he was planning on asking if you wanted to get a drink post-case, but for now he had two other problems in the form of two disgruntled german shepherds.

2. the stray

the neighbourhood you were canvassing was not exactly upmarket. it had a high concentration of crime and poverty, and with that, plenty of malnourished animals that likely carried many diseases. no matter how much you loved them, and you did still love them, you were not planning to kneel down with them and touch. you weren’t carrying hand sanitizer.

“the unsub should be familiar to almost all of these people, he’s prominent in this community, so if- erm, shoo?”

seeing hotch startle back and weakly attempt to ‘shoo’ a stray dog was probably the highlight of your day. she was a small thing, possibly some kind of terrier, but too underfed to tell for sure. she sniffed at his ankles as though he’d have any food kept there, but besides that, made no threatening move. you took pity, unwrapping the sandwich you’d got from the hotel cafeteria to eat for lunch, and ripped it up into pieces to make it easier for her to chew. she wolfed it down and skittered off.

hotch frowned, “why would you give your lunch away?”

“she clearly needed it more than me. i hate people who abandon their pets….” you lamented, watching the assortment of strays on the outskirts of each alley. the dogs formed small packs, while the cats hunted alone, equipped with the ability to catch birds and mice.

the two of you kept walking, knocking on doors, when the idea struck you on the way back to the local precinct. you were only teasing, lacking even an ounce of sincerity.

“you should adopt one! i’m sure jack would be thrilled, and i don’t mind holding it on the plane home.”

he just deadpanned you and walked away at a pace you struggled to catch up with. eventually, he took pity as you had on the dog, and slowed down for you to fall in step next to him once more.

3. movie night

it had taken him quite a while, but hotch did eventually ask you out for that post-case drink, which turned into a few dinners, which turned into regular dates, until the two of you had a designated saturday night. this time, you were at his apartment watching a film he’d picked out from his limited stack of dvd’s.

“oh my god!”

hotch had left you alone for two minutes to get you a glass of water.

he raced back into the room, causing his hair to become disarrayed for probably the first time in his life, only to see you pausing the movie to point out… a dog.

he huffed, “are you kidding? my knees can’t cope with that, woman.”

you laughed, beckoning him over, “i didn’t mean to scare you, but look how cute he is.”

“i can see just fine from here.”

“suit yourself.”

but he caved, and crossed the distance between you. not to stare enthusiastically at the dog, but to kiss you on the cheek and press play on the remote while you were distracted by his affection.

you hummed, “i think i’m gonna get a dog.”

he raised a brow, “it’s never moving in here.”

now both completely ignoring the film playing behind his back, you smiled, “and i am?”

at the risk of sounding too forward and scaring you off, despite you being one of the most intense people he knew (and he knew garcia), hotch merely offered you a shrug and another quick peck before returning to the kitchen. you could hardly contain the glee on your face as you burrowed into the cushion you were clutching and tried not to let your thoughts get ahead of themselves.

4. jack’s plea

“i made a mistake.” hotch murmured to himself, watching you and jack bond.

as he once predicted, you were going to be the death of him. albeit a happy, glittery death.

your activity of choice to bond with the child you’d only officially met once so far, was to take him to a park. a dog park, where you volunteered in your free time. some people took their dogs there, others dropped them off with a volunteer for the workday. jack was jovially bonding with your daily pups, a young golden retriever, and an elderly pomeranian.

he tried to stack them, but you quickly intervened.

“mistake? the only mistake was not letting me get matching boots for him and the dogs.”

hotch just looked at you blankly, lacking the heat of a glare, but clearly unamused with your antics. externally, at least, because on the inside he was definitely smiling fondly at you. you took that from his eyes.

jack, at that moment, rushed to you with the enthusiastic dogs on his heels. you didn’t miss the fact hotch didn’t flinch as they jumped at him, whereas a few months ago he definitely would of. you decided that was progress, kissed him on the cheek, and knelt down to speak to jack.

he whispered conspiratorially, though loud enough for his father to hear, “i want to take one home.”

hotch pinched the bridge of his nose, while you looked between the two gleeful you, “well, little man, these lovely guys belong to some other lovely people who would miss them very much.”

you weren’t going to promise him on of his own. it wasn’t your place, and you were not in the business of making empty promises; you’d all but accepted that aaron’s reluctance translated to ‘never gonna happen’. it was just fun to tease.

jack nodded, “that’s true. i like the big ones, anyway.”

that was not what his dad wanted to hear, but you were elated.

“finally,” you laughed, entwining your arms behind aaron’s neck when jack went back to play, “a hotchner after my own heart.”

he only laughed back, spinning you around so you both had eyes on the adventurous kid, and keeping his arm firmly around your waist. eventually, he responded, “we work too much for a dog.”

the fact he’d even got that far in thinking about it? you considered it a win.

5. clooney

morgan didn’t ask the team for favours all that often, but occasionally he asked one of you to dogsit, if he knew nobody else could check in, feed, walk, and so on. reid never took that bait.

one extended, long weekend, on which he planned to travel to a nice resort on his time off, he handed responsibility to you. at first, you’d been delighted, but not even a day into bonding with your new pal, you’d fallen with the flu. fallen being an accurate term for your dramatics. luckily for you, you’d recently moved in with aaron.

luckily for him too, because you made much better pancakes than he did.

so while you were ill and uncharacteristically miserable, he was playing tug of war with the dog, and cursing himself for thoroughly enjoying it. jack rolled around laughing, and he was struggling to fend off the invasive thoughts that were result of your persistence. he had once promised to dedicating the parts of his life that weren’t reserved for profiling to making you happy, and while that was usually an easy task, a dog would…

but he cut the thoughts off when clooney peed on his kitchen floor.

yeah, fuck no.

later on in the day, he ventured into your shared room to check on you. pitifully, you curled into his side of the bed and offered a morose sniff in reply to his gentle greeting.

“how’re you feeling, honey?”

you sighed, unfolding the covers from where they were tucked into your chin, “you know how you felt when jack accidentally hit you in the skull with his metal lunchbox? worse.”

despite your detailed description, aaron took your verbose approach to his question as a sign you were on the mend. he brought you another glass of water, and let jack give you a get well soon card, while holding your breath to risk contaminating him. on the front, a rough sketch of clooney, holding a flower.

“this is the best card i’ve ever seen, jack.” you assured him, propping it on your nightstand.

“if we had a dog, i could put him on the card!”

you nodded, “that is true.” aaron rolled his eyes.

he was saved by your chest racking cough, ushering jack out the room to let you rest. jack was happy to run back down to clooney.

aaron gave you ‘the look’; it meant calm down and go to sleep. he gave it to the team a lot.

you had to giggle as he went downstairs to jack’s onslaught of ‘can we get a dog? when?’. you were proud of your little ally as you laid back down.

+1

having to work a case on your birthday was unfortunate but unavoidable. the team bought you a cake, which you really appreciated, and until the strangulations, there was a celebratory air to the unit. on the plane home two days later, spencer even offered to let you win at chess. you flipped him off for that.

in the car, you yawned dramatically. amused, aaron asked, “tired?”

you mumbled back, “jus’ wanna go home and see jack.”

he couldn’t ignore the way his heart tightened at that admission. glancing over to your sleepy face, he didn’t think he’d yet been this in love with you. if he regretted the decision he’d made on a phone call to jessica while in california, he would remember this moment. by the time he pulled into the driveway, you’d long since closed your eyes.

“honey, wake up. we’re home.”

you all but slugged your way to the front door, aaron’s hand between your shoulder blades, urging you onward. he carried both your bags, and tomorrow you’d apologise for not helping. today, you just wanted to check your stepson was tucked in for the night, then crawl into your own bed and collapse.

to your confusion, the tv was still playing. which wouldn’t be strange, jessica did put it on sometimes, but it was playing cartoons. you frowned, off to investigate. if you’d turned and seen aaron’s smile, you would’ve been more confused.

“hey, little man, what are you still doing up?” you opened your arms and he ran to them, while you gave his aunt a quizzical look. she gestured for you to turn around, jack giggling.

behind you, aaron held a gorgeous puppy, looking at you with round, brown eyes, inset in a face of smooth fur. his tail whipped back and forth excitedly as you reached out to hold him. aaron deposited him carefully in your arms, overcome with second hand joy at the expression on your face.

tearfully, from your exhausted state and fear of his answer, you asked, “are you kidding?”

he shook his head, while jack drew your attention again. he wanted to pet the puppy.

you lightly put him to the floor, where he ambled around with little grace, absorbing all the attention you had to offer him. at some point, aaron had to intervene and put jack to bed, but you stayed with the dog for hours on.

almost nervously, aaron asked, “do you like him?”

you gaped at the ridiculous question, “i love him. and i love you.”

there was a quiet moment, where he admired the happiness before him, and you hugged your new friend some more.

“can he sleep in with us, aaron?”

“absolutely not.”

[ssaaaronmontgomery]

Weighted Blanket

Warnings: reader has migraine, fluff, that's about it :)

Word count: 348

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x gn!reader

A/n: This was finished SO long ago. Months ago. And I forgot about it until recently so here is a little blurb about Aaron being your blanket when you've got a headache :)

Forever tags: @greg-montgomery @boredelle @hotchsdoormat @ssahotchnerr @criminalskies @beardedhotchh @hotchnerbau @ssamorganhotchner @mrs-ssa-hotch

Hotch: @14buddy22 @pastanoodles11

If you want to be added to my tags you can comment, message, or send an ask to my inbox!

"What can I do to help you feel better Honey?" Aaron asked from beside you in bed. You'd had a terrible headache for hours now. Nothing seemed to help and while it was physically hurting you it was also hurting Aaron to see you in so much pain. He just wanted to relieve you of it but he couldn't.

"Lay on me?" You ask him tiredly. The pain made it so you couldn't sleep. Just laying there absorbed in the aching of your head that never didn't seem to let up. "Lay on you?"

"Yeah. Be my weighted blanket. Just lay on me please."

He does as you ask of him. Lifting the covers and gently lowering his weight onto you. His legs between yours and his arms on either side of your head as he looks at you. He's searching your face for any discomfort he might be adding but he finds none. None that isn't already there from your migraine.

As he settles his full weight on you once he's sure he's not hurting you further, he feels you let out a sigh of relief. "Thank you, Aaron." You say quietly as you wrap your arms around him. One hand finding its place on the back of his head in his dark locks and the other resting on his back. "Anything you need, Sweetheart."

"Kiss my head? Always seems to help Jack when he's hurt. Maybe I should give it a try." You give him a weak smile. He returns your smile with one of his. Resting his forehead against yours, he kisses your lips and temple softly before nuzzling his face in your neck. He occasionally leaves more soft kisses there hoping to distract you when you take in sharp breaths from sudden deeper pains going through your head.

Eventually you're able to fall asleep. The comfort and security of Aaron being so close helping you drift off into a light rest. He gives your head one more kiss and is also able to fall into a slumber now that you aren't suffering so much.

[hotchs-big-hands]

🖤this is not gonna be smutty but just imagine Aaron being so touch starved after his relationship with Haley (i'm sorry i'm not a fan), like his genuinely surprised when instead of yelling at him after he's been away you want to cuddle and snuggle.. and then he just can't stop touching/cuddling you whenever he gets a chance

Ohmygodddd I think about this all the time :((((( (also not a fan of her sksksksk I rly don't like her) I gotta confess I'm not the biggest fan of fics where reader makes him feel bad for doing his job when they know just how much his job means to him and how it takes him away a lot :(

You just know when he realises he's been away for a long time with work he's actually scared to go home and find that you're breaking up with him or gone completely. He's in his car freaking the fuck out, hands tightening around the steering wheel and he's trying not to cry. And when he gets home and you're still there and you don't even seem angry, just rush to him to give him a right hug you can feel him shaking in your arms and you realise he's crying :(((( so you go into protective mode and you get him inside the apartment properly, lock up and get him out of his uncomfy clothes and into something more comfortable. Fix him a snack and a drink where he just follows you like a lost puppy and just cuddle him on the couch or in bed :( he asks you why you're doing this and why you're not mad at him and you just say there's no reason you would be. He's worked hard, he's come home to you, he's alive and well. That's all you could ever need from him 🥺🥺🥺 he knows then and there he's completely in love with you and needs you.

[wonderlandhatter]

Snapchats from frat Aaron Hotchner

These are before you start dating, he's deff trying to earn some trust. He's only has hookups before and he wants more with you and so is deff trying to do this "the right way"

I have posts edited and done for right before you start dating, like you both know you both like eachother and is deff getting very flirty, so if anyone likes these and would like me to share those let me know.

This is also not edited lol so sorry.

💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞

I feel like this would be one of the firsts he sends you. You two have been chatting in class and when he comes in to your coffee shop. The friendship is growing.

He always invites you to his frats weekly party but honestly it's scary, he has no obligation to stay with you the whole night (he would let's be honest) so there's just too many variables.

So when he starts sending you little updates during the parties about how he's just tried the most disgusting drink he might die, or how he made a drink he thinks you'd like, or how a game would be more fun with you "I'm loosing angel, I need you on my team". He just has you blushing and kicking your feet.

Ok so you're still too anxious/nervous for a frat party (rightfully so those things look awful imo) but that's ok he just thought that would be the easiest way to spend time with you outside of school but he failed to realise that upto this point he's only gone after hookups but this is different, he wants you all the time for everything.

So he took a different approach, more one on one time. It starts when he invited you to. Afrat party and instead of your usual answer of "you know that's not my thing Aaron" you said "I have plans" which he very quickly jumped in to ask if he could join. This boy all but squealed when you happily agreed.

He did expect this to be a social thing but he quickly learned that your plans were a movie about an odd wizard and old woman playing while you painted/coloured and ate snacks.

That was his favourite night in a very long time, he internally prayed it wouldn't be a one time thing, specially after you admitted to these being your set Saturday night plans. He hopes he can become part of your set plans.

(he deff sends this to his best friend when he asks where he is, friend is equally as thrilled for his bud)

His presence in your life has now become a constant and you couldn't be happier. You're all but fully comfortable with him letting yourself be you around him and he couldn't be happier.

You're not as reserved, jocking with him even picking fun at him which he is eating up.

He comes to your job every Friday to "do schoolwork" which tbf he is but also just admiring you.

You make fun of his boring order everytime he orders his "large black coffee" with no sugar. But the last couple of visits he's let you make up his order as whatever you want knowing it would make you happy to as you say "make his life better through caffeinated joy".

They do tend to be your favourite orders given the next picture which he 100% put on his story which you begged him to change to his private story.

This is one of his favourite pictures and 100% becomes his phone background when you start dating.

Your cat is his nemesis.

You cuddles and love that cat all the time and it's 100% jealousy he wishes you were hugging and kissing him.

He's also convinced that the cat is looking at him smugly while you kiss him.

Cat deff also hissed at him when he comes into your apartment, it's a love triangle lol

He's told you the looks your cat gives him which you obviously thinks it's ridiculous so he sends you this as "proof"

[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."

[softestqueeen]

just a kiss

pairing: aaron hotchner x afab!reader

summary: a kiss under the mistletoe with a certain casanova makes your boyfriend, aaron hotchner, question himself.

warnings: 18+ MDNI!! smut, p in v, fingering, jealous!hotch, hurt/comfort, jealousy fucking, slight breeding (i’m just a girl guys), unprotected sex (guys, don’t do that)

wordcount: 1990 words

a/n: better late than never guys, i really wanted to write something for christmas! I’m thinking about writing something short for spencer as well, but i don’t know how much time i will have. But anyways, merry christmas to those who celebrate! enjoy <3

“Oh oh, a mistletoe. You know what that’s means mama, come here and give me a kiss,” your good friend and colleague Derek was already rubbing his hands together before holding them out to you.

You decided to humor him, taking a step closer to him, definitely not expecting him to pull you in and tip you back. Letting out a surprised squeak, you tell Garcia, who was watching the spectacle with wide and curious eyes. “Don’t look Penelope, you don’t wanna see this.”

It was the last thing you said before Derek pressed his lips to you, pulling away with a loud smooch. He lifts you back on your feet again and lets out a laugh, quickly matched by your own laughter.

He gently pats your hip before leaving to join the others in their festive activities around Rossi’s mansion. Garcia immediately lets out an excited squeal which you only answer with a dismissive wave of your hand before following Derek into the heart of the party.

You don’t mind the kiss anymore, until you are alone with your boyfriend Aaron Hotchner. He was standing by the fridge, beer in hand and a frown adorning his handsome face.

Looking around to see if anybody was nearby, you step closer to him, going in for a kiss, which he tried to avert by moving his head. He gives you a tight lip smile before quickly leaving the kitchen, leaving you with a heavy heart and even more confusion.

Why was he acting so weird all of the sudden? Did you do something wrong the last time you saw each other? Yes, your relationship was secret, but you both agreed to keeping it from the team. So, what was wrong?

Following a harmless Christmas tradition under the cheers of Penelope already slipped your mind. You didn’t think it was that much of a deal.

A little while later, while Aaron was still avoiding you like the plague, the two of you unknowingly found yourself under another mistletoe. (damn you, Garcia)

You looked at your (secret) boyfriend, while the team cheared you on. “We don’t have to kiss in front of everyone, if you don’t want to, it’s fine.”

“No, it’s alright. If they want a show, let’s give them one,” Aaron answers you, a rare smile slipping through. His answer confused you, why was he suddenly talking to you like nothing happened?

Leaning up, you place a quick peck on his lips, briefly placing your hand on his arm. As quickly as it started it was already over again. You didn’t want to make him uncomfortable, knowing he was never one for PDA.

“Show’s over guys,” you announce before going to the kitchen to fulfil your actual plan of getting a refill for your drink.

Aaron silently follows you, even though he just left the massive kitchen. After watching you for a moment, he asked you the question that had been on his mind since you kissed Derek some time ago.

“Why did Derek get a real kiss?”

“What do you mean?” The confusion was written all over your face.

“Just now, under the mistletoe.” Oh, so that is what this is all about. He continues “I only get a small peck, but you kissed Morgan like it was the last time you would ever kiss someone” in a smaller voice he added “It almost seemed more real with him.”

“Aaron, are you jealous?” You almost let out a small laugh, but his almost pained expression made you hold back. In that moment he looked so small and vulnerable, avoiding your eye.

Stepping forward, you take his hands in yours and tell him “Listen to me now, Hotchner. You’re the only one that I want, yeah? I need you to know that.” Your hands now move to cup his face, his dark eyes meeting yours again, the uncertainty in them slowly fading again. “I only gave you a small peck because of the whole ‘we don’t want to tell the team about us” thing. And of course, when Mr. Flirty himself tips you back for a little smooch under the mistletoe you can’t really say no that easily. And why would I, a seemingly single woman refuse to kiss my very good friend Derek Morgan. But that doesn’t matter now, because you Mr. Aaron Hotchner are it for me, I don’t want anybody else. You understand me?”

Hearing you talk like this made Hotch almost feel a little bit silly. Of course, he loved you and knew that you loved him too. And deep down he knows that he never doubted that, but you kissing Derek made something ugly and green sprout in his mind and he was foolish enough to let it overshadow the love you shared.

“I’m sorry, of course I know. I love you like nobody else but seeing you with somebody younger and more charming made me question myself.” It pained you to know Aaron felt hurt by this.

“No, don’t be sorry. I promise I won’t kiss any more colleagues under the mistletoe. Ok, I think that’s a lie, I have the feeling Prentiss is just waiting for her opportunity.” Your joke had the anticipated effect, making you both laugh. Without thinking you lean up, meeting his already waiting lips in an almost passionate kiss. After parting , you both share a knowing look before departing and joining the party again.

++++

The party continued everybody – even you – oblivious to Aarons inner debate. Of course he knew that you were stable, especially after you reassured him, but something still didn’t let him enjoy the time, especially when you were talking to Derek or as as silly as it may sound, Prentiss. He couldn’t get your comment out of his head, even if it was a joke.

Thankfully there was not just the team at Rossi’s Christmas party, but also a lot of his other friends and fbi people, so it wouldn’t be noticed that the two of you were missing.

He quickly found you and thankfully you weren’t talking to anybody at the moment. Closing the distance, he leaned into you and whispered in your ear. “Meet me upstairs, the first bathroom to your left. You go ahead, I’ll join you in about five minutes, darling.” With a quick kiss to your cheek, he left you alone and went back to the party.

Even if you questioned his behaviour, you also trust this man with your life, so you went upstairs and waited. After almost exactly five minutes you heard a knock and a quiet it’s me, making you open the door.

The moment it was closed again, Aaron connected your lips with his and kissed you like his life depended on it. His hands immediately went to your waist, his grip never faltering for even a second. You let out a surprised squeal but weren’t unhappy with how things turned out, so you immediately returned the kiss with just as much enthusiasm, your hands wandering over his arms before letting them rest on his muscular chest.

The unit chief lead you backwards to the sink, turning you around and pressing you against it. The cool tile made you shiver, your thin dress making you feel every dip. You were quickly distracted though, now feeling Aarons massive body against you, his hard cock pressing against your back.

Feeling his length made you gasp. You boyfriends hands rested against your hips again, his lips trailing over the back of your neck and your shoulder.

“You look so beautiful in that dress; it almost kills me to act like I don’t care. Especially when I see everybody looking at you, but you’re mine, aren’t you?”

You were again surprised by his words. Was he really that jealous? Your only answer was a whined only you, before Aaron let his hand wander underneath your dress.

He started stroking your wet cunt through your wet panties, the kissing and his behaviour already having an effect on you. Pressing your ass against his erection, you let out a small moan.

Aaron wanted to be inside of you as fast as he could, so he didn’t hesitate to push your panties to the side and let his finger glide through your folds.

“Already so wet for me, baby. Do you want my cock?” As he was saying that, he slowly pushed one of his thick fingers into you, slowly pumping in and out of you while waiting for an answer.

After a moment you realised he was waiting for an answer, his fingers on you making it hard to concentrate. “Yes, Aaron, need you so bad.”

He swiftly added another finger, now slowly curling them inside of you, preparing you for his length. Letting out another string of moans, your grip his hand, signalling hm to go faster.

“Please Aaron, I’m so close.” It was more of a whine, your head dropping back against his strong shoulder.

Aaron reached forward, hugging your torso against him.

“Let go, come for me, now” it didn’t take more for you. With a breathless call of is name you came undone, your whole body trembling. Aaron supported your weight, his fingers slowly coming to a halt inside of you before pulling out, making you whine.

The unit chief placed a kiss upon your shoulder, before using his now free hand to open up his fly and pull out his rock hard cock. He gave himself a few slow pumps, spreading your remaining wetness over his length.

He properly bunched up your dress to your waist and pulled your panties to the side again, before lining his tip up with your hole. Slowly he buried himself inside of you, his hand now going to your mouth to muffle your moans.

Your eyes closed, you already anticipate the heavenly feeling of him rubbing against your walls and moments later he starts moving. First slowly, giving you a moment to adjust to his length, and then he starts pounding into you, as if to get you both to your release as fast as possible.

The only sounds in the small bathroom were skin slapping against skin and your mixed moans and groans.

Aaron moves his hand, gripping your face and directing it to the mirror in front of you. “Look at you, so pretty. All just for me. I’m the only one who gets to see you like this, huh?” His possessive words make your pussy throb and your walls contract around his cock. You’ve never seen your boyfriend act like this, but you weren’t complaining.

“Only you Aaron, only you,” you breathed out, already feeling your release, the coil in your stomach threatening to snap.

“Please Aaron, I’m so close. Please cum with me, fill me up,” was all you could get out before your whole body started to tremble again, your second orgasm hitting you even harder as the firs. If it wasn’t for your boyfriend holding you up, you would have already slumped forward.

“Fuck,” was all Aaron could get out before his cock twitched and released inside of you. He halted his movements and buried himself to the tilt, now using both of his hands to hug you close to him.

Once you’ve both calmed down, he pulled out and moved your panties back and your dress back down.

“Don’t wipe it away, leave it as a reminder as to who you belong to.” He told you gentle, before adding, “I’m going to go back to the party, follow me after a few minutes.”

He placed another kiss against your lips before pulling away completely to leave the room, leaving you breathless and satisfied.

You were both sure about your relationship now and even when Prentiss eventually gets you under the mistletoe and leaves a very passionate kiss on your lips, the wetness in your panties is a gentle reminder to who you belong to.

a/n: i hope you liked this, if so please leave some notes, likes, reblogs and comments! feedback is very appreciated! i’d like to write more with criminal minds characters, so if you have any ideas/requests lmk!!

please also consider supporting my ao3: @ softestqueeen

requests open!

taglist: @silvermagnolias @milywatermelon @bigbananaa

[avis-writeshq]

hellooo <3

can i request a lil something for hotch about that one trend on tiktok “calling my bf my husband to see his reaction” thxx!

pairing: aaron hotchner x fem!reader genre: fluff, established relationship warnings: talks about marriage + commitment a/n: thank you for requesting lovely <3 wc: 650

Aaron’s confusion is palpable when he watches you prop your phone up by the corner of the car so that the front camera faces the both of you. He’s well aware of how you make videos of yourself to post on the internet – it’s actually how Penelope set the two of you up – but he’s never really been in any of the videos you’ve posted. The two of you are just going on a fast food trip and as soon as you step into the car, he finds himself incredibly underdressed. Granted, you always look lovely, but you still look far too overdressed to go to a drive-through. 

“Are we going somewhere after this?” He asks slowly, his eyes raking over your figure and the way you fix up your hair. 

“No, honey, I just wanted to dress up.” You smile at him, leaning over the console to kiss his cheek. 

He frowns, a stark contrast to the brilliant blush on his cheeks and the redness of his ears. “This seems like a plot.”

“No plot,” you laugh again and turn to your camera. “Guys, my husband thinks that I’m plotting something. Can you believe that?”

Aaron’s brain short circuits as soon as the words register. His fingers go lax on the steering wheel and his jaw unhinges. He’s staring at you like you’ve got three heads and his blush travels all the way down his chest. He likes the sound of that. An entire lifetime with you flashes before his eyes and all of a sudden there’s a ridiculously wide smile on his face and his eyes are crinkled at the corners.

“You’re beautiful.”

You’re giggling. A hand over your mouth and your eyes have lit up with mirth. He spares a glance at the camera and he manages a small groan, covering his face with one hand in an effort to shield his reputation. You’re still laughing quietly, although your own cheeks are hot from his breathless compliments. 

“Was this all just for a video?” Aaron asks, moving his free hand to your knee and squeezing. “Sweetheart, that’s cruel.”

“No, it isn’t! It’s just a silly video, Aaron, it’s not cruel,” You say through a smile, and you stop recording and pocket the phone. “You reacted really nicely though, I’m sure the video will do well.”

“Do other people not react well?” He asks, concerned. He doesn’t really want to think about how other boyfriends react to their significant other calling them ‘husband’, especially when he can’t imagine ever having a life without you in it. 

You shrug as you respond, “one guy didn’t let his girlfriend finish her sentence before he was yelling that he ‘isn’t her husband’. Which is true, but he responded really quickly and really seriously that it didn’t seem like a joke. I don’t know how they are in real life though, so it could have been staged.”

His concern turns into one of mortification, mainly for the couple. “I don’t understand how someone could get into a relationship and have no end in mind.”

That alone is enough to have you swooning, and he leans over to kiss your forehead. You’re beaming at him, almost slyly, and he brushes your hair out of your face. 

“We should go somewhere nice,” He decides, sitting back in his seat. He puts the car into drive. “You’re too pretty to go to a drive-through.”

You’re laughing again as he starts driving in the direction of your favourite Italian place, one hand on the wheel and the other on your thigh. You don’t know about the velvet ring box hidden underneath the drivers’ seat. 

Two weeks later, the video you recorded garnishes a whopping 23.6 million views, pinned beside another with a ring as the thumbnail. That video has a terrifying 43.9 million views, and Aaron is not spared any teasing. 

reblogs are always appreciated !

events page

[hotchs-bitch]

Autograph

Summary: Aaron loves you in a way you've never been loved before, and you never want it to end

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x blank slate Fem!Reader (no use of y/n)

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: fluff, case study brain because I'm ill, mentions of sex but nothing explicit, allusion to proposal, possessive!hotch

A/N: big big shoutout to @honeybrowne for 1) inspiring me to write this and 2) betaing (see: validating) it. You are the best <33 Find it on ao3 here, or under the cut!

Happy reading <3

I'd change your autograph

I'd put my name on you

And I'd put big gold ring on your left hand

So everybody knew

That I'm the lucky one

At work, you know that your partner deals with all kinds of psychopaths. Abusive boyfriends, men who have scratched their initials into their victims, and more scenarios that he certainly keeps to himself.

You prefer it that way; Aaron is a possessive man sometimes, and you don’t want to draw any sort of association between him and the criminals he hunts. He’s a good man in both intention and action, and he always has been.

When he’s possessive, it’s in a good way. It’s an arm around your waist at company parties when some FBI hotshot eyes the swell of your breasts in a dress. It’s a hand holding yours in public, or an arm offered before you walk up a flight of stairs together.

It’s in your sex life, the way Aaron groans louder than ever whenever you say, “I’m yours,” and the way he fills you up with grunts of “Mine,” spilling from his lips into yours. 

You’re your own person, and you both know that. You and Aaron are mature, developed adults who are well past your years of thinking that partnership is needed to complete you.

The fact that he does complete you, makes you another person- a better person- beyond yourself is really just a bonus, at this stage in your life. His possession just proves it.

He worships you, calls you late at night from hotel rooms strewn across the country, showers you with attention whenever he’s home. He respects you, supports your career, and makes every decision with you instead of for you. The two of you look at houses together, discuss the future together, and you know that your opinion is just as valued as his- if not more.

So when he gets possessive, you don’t mind. You’ve encouraged it once or twice, flirting at the bar with a stranger before Aaron returns back from the bathroom just so you can feel arms encircling your waist and a kiss to your ear, followed by “Who’s your new friend, sweetheart?”

He doesn’t possess you like he wants everyone to know that you belong to him. He possesses you as though you already do, and that anyone else in the world is at fault for not seeing how head over heels the two of you are for each other.

It’s protective, in a way. Sure, you could always stand up for yourself when you get catcalled walking down the street. But the sight of Aaron striding towards a parked car, knocking on the cracked-open window, and saying “Want to try that again?” with his badge clipped to his suit isn’t an image you’ll grow tired of anything soon.

Aaron possesses you like something more cherished and loved than a trophy, like something he can’t believe is his. He doesn’t hide you away from the world, plastered in ‘for your eyes only’ signs. He shows you off, kisses you in public, and he’ll smirk at everyone in the place- especially anyone who’s tried to flirt with either of you, women and men alike on occasion- when you inevitably pull him towards the door with both hands in his towards the end of the night. It doesn’t matter what moves they try, or how flirty they are. He goes home with you, and it’ll never be any other way.

You’re his, in every way except legally. The two of you belong together, you belong to each other. It’s an intertwinement of souls, if you’re trying to get poetic about it; you make each other better, celebrating on the good days and uplifting on the bad. You’re two whole people, combining to form some deity of love beyond what you could ever be alone. Two hearts forming one massive one, instead of two halves of the same heart.

You know how lucky you are to have him, to have this side of him. When you’d first started dating and met his team, you heard joke after joke about what a hardass he could be, and Derek had even wished you luck in drawing a smile out of him.

It’s hard for you to picture Aaron’s face painted with anything less than a broad grin.

He’s told you time and time again that you make him better; a better man, a better person, a better partner than he thought he could be. The crumbling of his first marriage, months after he joined the FBI, has certainly played into those insecurities.

You’ve always been up for the task of reminding him that you’re the lucky one; particularly because to you, it isn’t a task at all. You’ll do any work, say anything he needs to hear, in order to break down those walls of fear and resentment he’d built up over the years before meeting you.

The progress that the two of you have made has been astounding, to say the least. Still, sometimes during a late dinner or while watching TV you’ll ask him what he’s thinking about, and he’ll mumble, “Not sure how I got so lucky.” 

No matter how many times you echo the sentiment for yourself, he’s never stopped saying it.

————

You’ve talked about the future before. You’ve discussed houses, career changes, and even whether you want to have kids, but you’ve never broached the subject of marriage.

It’s Aaron who brings it up first, of course. It’s nice to think that you’ve added to his confidence, but the truth is that he just feels comfortable approaching you about anything; there’s no credit to take, and you wouldn’t take it even if he tried to give it to you.

“What are you doing?” He asks as a greeting when he gets home, pressing a kiss to your temple as he passes by the kitchen table. His gun is set in the safe, and his briefcase is stowed out of sight; work is left at the office.

“That new car I’m buying,” you answer, half-distracted. You’re not focused enough to keep your attention on signing the stack of papers in front of you, and you catch him by the tie and pull him down for a proper kiss when he moves to pass you again. “Mm. They’ve got me signing away my life, here. My hand is going to cramp up soon. How was your day?”

Aaron grabs you a glass of water, setting it down in front of you. “Poor girl. You should invest in a new pen,” he suggests, watching the inkflow falter when you sign yet another page. “It was alright. Dave has Morgan and I going over to watch the game. I’d rather stay home, but he’s got a flatscreen.”

“At this point, I might just invest in a stamp with my autograph on it.” You sigh dramatically for comedic effect, and he chuckles. “It might not be as legal, but it would be easier. When are you leaving?”

“Right away. I’ve been called on to pick up pizza and beer.” Aaron pulls his suit jacket off, replacing it with a brown fleece quarter-zip overtop of his dress shirt. The white collar peeks out of the top, teasing you until he tucks it back under the fleece. “I wouldn’t go for a stamp, by the way. That’s a waste of an investment.”

“Because it’s illegal? Ugh, I knew it,” you groan, and Aaron laughs again while he digs for his car keys in the pocket of his suit jacket.

“I’m not going to speak on the legality. That’s between you and the car dealership,” he advises. “But I’m going to change your autograph, and I’ll do it long before that stamp runs out of ink.”

Your eyes widen a fraction; that’s not what you were expecting to hear, but it’s not unwelcome. “Oh. So, uh, I’ll stick to pens, then.” Your voice is hopefully more level to his ears than it is to yours, but he doesn’t seem to notice the twitch of your lips fighting a smile.

“I’ll bring you some of the good pens from work, if you remind me tomorrow. I’ll see you later, sweetheart. I love you.” He leans down to kiss you again, soft and sweet and smiling into it.

“Love you too,” you murmur when he breaks away. “Drive safe, root hard, whatever you men do at games. Call me if you need a ride, okay?”

Aaron promises to do so and leaves with another little smile in your direction. The door shuts behind him, and your own face breaks into a grin. It feels like another door has been opened, and you can’t wait to see what’s behind it.

—————

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Tell me what you thought <3

[hazelhearts]

make-up

a/n: the long awaited part 2! i hope you all enjoy reading it as much as i enjoyed writing it!! also yes i used a girl in red song for a straight fic. i couldn't find any other song that really could help me write it so i'm sorry.

warnings/content: heartbreak, severe angst, alcohol mention, hookups, cheating, drinking

It was a bad idea

Calling you up

Was such a bad idea

'Cause now I'm even more lost

Everything from last night was a blur. Aaron had no idea where he had been, who he had been with, or why he was naked in a hotel bed. All he knew was that something had definitely happened, something that shouldn't have happened.

He rolled over to the other side of the bed, the scent of you overwhelming him. He didn't believe it at first. He moved his head away, slowly leaning back in to smell again. It was you.

You put your hands under my shirt

Undid my bra and said these words

"Darling, you're so pretty, it hurts"

The memories from the night before were coming back slowly. You remembered deciding to go out, drinking until you couldn't see straight, and then waking up in a hotel bed.

You barely looked at the guy next to you when you woke up, figuring it was some random guy from some random bar. Except, it wasn't just some random guy, was it?

As you thought back on it, the words he said to you were all to familiar. The way you felt, all to comfortable. The way he smelt, all too similar.

It was a bad idea

Calling you up

Was such a bad idea

I'm totally fucked

Aaron rolled over to check his phone, seeing near 50 missed calls from Beth. But that wasn't what caught his attention. No, that was your name right under hers listed as his last outgoing call.

As the pieces started to come together, Aaron realized just how fucked he was. Not only was he still not over you, he had just cheated on Beth with you.

"Idiot! What the fuck were you thinking?!" Aaron blinked and suddenly his phone was across the room, shattered.

"Shit."

It was a bad idea

Needing you so late

Was such a bad idea

'Cause I can't think straight

When you got to work, you automatically started searching for Aaron's car. You really didn't think you could face him if you were right about last night.

How could you have been so stupid? You were supposed to be using strangers to get over Aaron, not Aaron.

Your thoughts were running wild as you entered the elevator. The door began to close, but was then stopped by an arm. An arm that you really wished hadn't stopped it.

To bring you back home

Was such a bad idea

I need to be alone

Aaron nearly decided to take the stairs when the doors opened. Flight felt like the best option. But he knew he'd have to face what he did at some point. Better now than never, right?

"Y/N..." You shook your head, unwilling to even look him in the eyes.

"Y/N, we have to talk about this." The doors shut as he began speaking, starting their way up the floors.

"I have no idea what you're talking about sir." He pushed the emergency stop button. Of course he did. That was his thing.

"Aaron, I can't do this right now." You felt his eyes on you, unwavering.

"Well we don't always get what we want, do we?" At that, you looked up. The glare you gave him was one of the most terrifying glares he had ever seen.

"We slept together. So what? It was a mistake. You're in love with Beth, and I'm just a bad idea. Does that about cover it?" Aaron seemed almost hurt by your words, his face finally softening from the hard exterior you'd seen over the past few months.

"No, no you've got it all wrong. You weren't a mistake. Cheating on Beth was wrong. Calling you when I was drunk was wrong. But you'll never be wrong sweetheart." You swore your heart stopped beating as the term of endearment left his mouth.

"You can't call me that Aaron. You're in a relationship, remember?" You had returned to facing the floor at some point. Honestly, you didn't have much control of your body right now so you weren't all that sure.

"Yes, I remember." That was it. This conversation was done. You began reaching for the emergency stop button, intent on turning in the resignation papers that you had filled out that were sitting in your drawer.

Aaron's hand grabbed yours without hesitation, bringing it between the two of you. His other hand moved to your chin, slowly lifting it up so you were looking at him. You were surprised to see that his face was one of love and need.

"I remember, but Beth doesn't mean anything to me. I wanted her to mean something, but she wasn't you. I want you. Not Beth, not some other random woman, just you." Your face finally softened, seeing nothing but honesty in his eyes.

"So do I. But you have to break up with Beth." You don't think you'd ever smiled so wide in you life.

"Consider it done sweetheart." He leaned in, sealing his promise with a passionate kiss.

I can't get enough

-

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