#aaron fell over and didn’t get up for twenty minutes

[mieeaahhh]

In my mind Allison has a YouTube channel and makes vlogs and does baking videos and makeup videos and every now and again the foxes will show up and Andrew, Neil, Aaron and Matt were in a baking video she made and it’s the funniest thing every created

[sprinkler-ashes]

gorgeous // aaron hotchner x reader

gorgeous

pairing: aaron hotchner x fem!reader

in which you’re jack hotchner’s teacher, and you are utterly enamored of his dad. loosely based off of taylor swift’s song “gorgeous.”

words: 2.4k

warnings: everyone thirsting over hotch lmao

a/n: thank you all soooo very much for 600+ notes on my last fic!!! here’s another small taylor-inspired fic. It’s short, sweet, and i left it open for a part 2 in case i want to write it – we’ll see. i really wanted to get more out for you guys, but spring semester started, i fell back into constant work, and now am getting over the flu, which totally sucks, but is giving me a slight break to write. thanks for reading <3

you make me so happy, it turns back to sad

there's nothing i hate more than what i can't have

you are so gorgeous it makes me so mad

On most days, you loved your job. You were a first grade teacher and truly loved all the kids you had as if they were your own.

However, on some days – you really despised your job.

Dealing with the parents was sometimes your least favorite part of your job. It was usually mind-boggling to you at how some of these people had the sweetest and smartest kids, but they, the parents themselves, could be absolutely awful. It wasn’t all of the parents. In fact, there were some you really liked, but there were definitely a couple bad ones.

As much as you didn’t like dealing with some of those bad parents during conferences, you weren’t a fan of days like today – a Saturday bake sale at nine in the morning to raise money for an end-of-the-year field trip coming up at the end of the school year in just a couple months. The PTA was over the bake sale, which meant you had to deal with some of the most insufferable women you had ever met on what was supposed to be a day off.

“I told you, Stef, she’s just with him so she can get that life insurance check when he finally kicks the bucket – you watch and see if I’m not right,” the woman next to you, Kelly, said. “Poor Charlie, I hope he gets away from her before she snatches every penny he’s got.”

You wanted to scream. You weren’t sure how you were going to deal with this for another – you checked your watch – two hours and thirty-eight minutes even though the bake sale was only supposed to be three hours long. How had it only been twenty-two minutes?

 Kelly was the resident gossip while Stefanie, Stef, was her best friend and head of the PTA. Kelly’s son wasn’t in your class, but Stef’s twins were both in your class. Even though you didn’t even teach Kelly’s kid, you saw her often because she was always at every single school event.

“Stef, are you listening to me?” You heard Kelly ask.

“Did you know Mr. Hotchner is here?” Stef asked excitedly.

Your head perked up at hearing that. You pretended to fiddle with the homemade brownies wrapped up in front of you while you listened.

“That man is so beautiful. I just want him for myself,” Kelly replied. “I’m glad he made it today, so we have something nice to look at.”

You couldn’t disagree with Kelly there. Aaron Hotchner was the dad of one of the kids in your class, Jack, and a member of the PTA. He was the Unit Chief of the FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit and was often gone on cases. Jack’s mom had died a while ago, close to two years prior, and Jessica, Jack’s aunt, was usually the one who would drop him off and pick him up.

In fact, you had only met Jack’s dad a couple times – three, to be exact. The first time you met Jack and Aaron was at the school’s open house event right before school had started. The second time was the first parent-teacher conference of the year. The last time you had seen him was purely by luck in the grocery store one evening.

Kelly wasn’t wrong – Aaron Hotchner was insanely attractive and every woman in the PTA knew it. It honestly seemed like everyone knew it except for Aaron himself. You watched as he helped Jack give change back to a man who was buying a cookie at the booth he was at. You couldn’t help but smile as you watched him give his son a high-five after the man had left.

Truthfully, you hated him. Not because he had ever done anything to you – actually, it was because he hadn’t done anything to you.

“Do you think he’ll ever remarry?” Kelly asked Stef. “If so, I hope it’s one of us.”

“You, me, and every woman here,” Stef said with a laugh. “Oh my goodness, Kelly, he’s coming over here. Fix your hair! It looks like a bird’s nest.”

You felt your pulse start to race as you glanced up to find that Stef was, indeed, right. Aaron was coming over, his eyes trained on you with his hands in his pockets. He was dressed casually in jeans and a crewneck sweatshirt. It was different from the usual suits you saw him in. Seeing him without a tie felt almost criminal.

“Good morning,” he told you, not paying attention to the other women near you, his eyes trained solely on you. “I’m sorry to bother you, but Jack wants to know if you’ll come join his booth for a moment. It won’t be long.”

You silently it wasn’t obvious that his gaze on you was affecting you the way that it was. His job was literally to profile people – you just hoped he wasn’t profiling you right now. “Yeah, I’d love to. Do you mind taking over this booth while I go over for a bit?”

“Go right ahead, honey,” Kelly told you. She lowered her voice, “I’d go anywhere with him, too.”

You rolled your eyes. “I’m just going to see Jack’s poster.”

Kelly grinned. “Whatever you say.”

You shook your head, avoiding eye contact with Aaron and watching as both the women gave him a smile and little wave while you maneuvered from out behind the table you were standing at. “Lead the way.”

He gave you a small smile as he removed his hands from his pockets and led you over to the table him and Jack were assigned to. “I know you’re miserable, so I thought I’d help you escape.”

You were about to ask how he knew you’d rather have been doing anything else other than Stef and Kelly gossip, but you closed your mouth as soon as you opened it. “Really? You were profiling me? Here?”

That earned you a laugh out of him, which you now claimed as your favorite sound you’ve ever heard. “I don’t think it would’ve taken a profiler to see that you weren’t enjoying yourself.”

“Did you guys not get assigned with anyone else? It was supposed to be three to five people per table,” you mentioned as you two had finally reached the cookie booth that Aaron and Jack were over.

“We did, but they didn’t show,” Aaron replied to you, his hand lightly touching your lower back as he guided you behind the table where Jack was awaiting, causing you to elicit a sharp intake at the contact. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m good,” you said in your best attempt at a nonchalant tone. If he doubted you, he didn’t press further. “Do you want me to ask around and see if I can get someone to come work the cookie booth with you guys?”

Aaron shook his head. “We’re holding up fine. Right, Jack?”

“Miss Y/L/N!” Jack shouted coming towards you as he held out his poster board that was just about as big as he was and filled with hand-drawn pictures of cookies. “Look at my sign! Daddy let me stay up late to make it.”

You crouched down to his level. “It looks awesome, Jack!” you told him excitedly, gaining a smile of your own as you watched his spread wide. “You did a great job!”

“Thanks! Can you put it back in front of the table, please?” He asked you politely. You nodded and took the poster back from him and placed it back in its rightful spot in front. “Daddy, can I go talk to my friends? I’ll be really quick, I pinky-promise.”

“Yes, but don’t be too long. We have cookies to sell,” Aaron told him.

You both watched as Jack’s little legs carried him just right in front of the table you were at. He was only a couple feet away, but you noticed Aaron’s eyes watching him, making sure he got there safely and that the adults working that table saw him.

“He thinks the world of you. I think you’re his favorite person,” Aaron told you.

That made you grin. You weren’t supposed to have favorites as a teacher, especially with kids as young as the ones you taught, but Jack was definitely one of your favorites. He was a sweet kid and was even reading on a fourth grade level. He caused no trouble and was a friend to everyone.

“He’s a great kid. I think the world of him also,” you said, your eyes locking with Aaron’s. Your breath hitched. How was someone this gorgeous? “But I actually think you’re his favorite person. He tells everyone about you and what you do. You’re his hero.”

Aaron grinned, and it was a sight you hadn’t seen before. You’d gotten smiles from him before, but never anything this big. You refrained from quite literally melting onto the floor. To be honest, you weren’t sure how you were going to last another minute standing here with him. He was so attractive you could barely even look at him.

If you said you didn’t have a teeny, tiny crush on Jack’s dad, you would be lying, but he was off-limits. For one, you were his son’s teacher. You’d really convinced yourself that there was no way he would want someone like you. There was nothing wrong with you, but you two were supposed to have a strictly professional relationship.

“Have you tried one of the cookies?” Aaron asked you, motioning to the cookies that laid on the table in front of the two of you.

“I haven’t,” you replied. “Did you bake all of these?”

“I had some help,” he sheepishly admitted. “Penelope, one of my co-workers, she helped me. As soon as we got back from a case last night, she came over. I knew I wasn’t going to be able to bake this many cookies by myself.”

“You made all of these last night? And after a case?” you asked incredulously. The entire table was covered in cookies of various different flavors. You were seriously impressed.

“Yeah, but it was no big deal,” he brushed it off. “I didn’t want to miss the bake sale. Plus, like I said, I didn’t do all of it.”

Was there anything this man couldn’t do?

You laughed. “I’m sure you’re probably wishing that you did miss the bake sale.” You gestured around the school parking lot that was set up. “I can count on one hand the number of things we’ve sold. I told Stef that a chilly February bake sale wasn’t a good idea, but she doesn’t really listen.”

“No, I’m glad I’m here. I really wanted to be here,” he said, looking directly at you.

This man knew how to take your breath away without even touching you or really even saying anything. You really understand now why all the PTA moms spent so much time gossiping about him.

“We’re glad you could make it,” you said breathlessly, offering a smile. “Really, Mr. Hotchner, I know how busy you are, so all of us are thrilled that you could find the time to help out.”

“Call me Aaron.”

This man was genuinely going to drive you crazy. You were an adult, so why did talking to Aaron Hotchner almost make you drop to the ground?

Before you could say anything else, Jack was back. “Did we get any more customers?”

“Not yet, buddy.”

Jack frowned. “Ah, man. But the cookies are so good!” He turned to you. “Miss Y/L/N, why is no one buying anything?”

“I’m not sure, Jack. Hopefully, we’ll get some more customers later.”

“I hope so,” he said sadly. “I really want to go on the field trip.”

You once again crouched down to his height – something you did often when talking to any of the kids. “We’re working really hard to make the field trip happen, so don’t give up hope, okay?”

Before Jack could reply, you noticed people coming towards your table, so you motioned for Jack to look. “Look! There’s some customers coming. You ready?”

Jack nodded excitedly as he turned around and eagerly started to await the arrival of the people nearing. You smiled at his excitement and took a step back, letting him take control, but you were going to keep watch to make sure he was doing everything correctly.

 “I can see why Jack likes you so much.”

You smiled. The greatest compliments you could receive was from parents telling you their kids – the kids you spent more time with than your own family — liked you. Some days were tough, and it would feel like you weren’t in the right profession, but that feeling would go away any time a parent was able to confirm that their child really enjoyed you teaching them.

“Thank you, Mr. Hotchner, but I should probably get back to helping out Stef and Kelly,” you told him as you looked around to see more people filing in. “It seems we’re starting to get a little busy.”

“Yeah, of course, sorry to keep you busy. Jack just wanted you to come over.”

Jack turned around. “Yeah, I did. Daddy wasn’t happy that we didn’t get to work a table with you. He called Miss Stef a-”

Aaron’s eyes went for a split second before he said, “Jack, turn back around and sell your cookies.”

Jack did as he was told and Aaron awkwardly ran a hand through his hair as you replayed what Jack said back in your head. Aaron wanted to talk to you. He wanted to work with you today. It could’ve meant anything, but you were currently feeling like a kid on Christmas morning.

Aaron cleared his throat. “I guess Jack wasn’t the only one that wanted to talk to you.”

You suppressed a grin, gaining the courage to look Aaron in the eyes. “And I guess Jack wasn’t the only one I came over here for.”

[darklydeliciousdesires]

The Dream - Chapter Twelve.

Thank you to all of you engaging with this, still :) 30 notes to unlock the next chapter, as explained before. 

Previous chapters - Prologue  One  Two  Three  Four  Five  Six  Seven  Eight  Nine  Ten  Eleven

Tag list - In the comments, please DM to be added/removed (note: those not engaging will be automatically removed from the tag list, FYI)

Words - 2,872 

Warnings - 18+ content throughout, minors DNI!

“Calamity Joe!” Frankie called at seeing Keri being carried over to the table at the bar by Angel, clung on around him like a little koala bear on a big tree. “What did you do?”  

“Showing off,” Ash voiced, who was carrying their three boards. “Again!”  

“I landed off one of the bigger ramps a little too sharply, lost the tail and did a somersault. Kinda fell funny on my ankle.” She poked her bottom lip, looking so adorable, Angel placing her down in a seat. “Aaron left, by the way. Got an Uber home. I kinda get the impression he still isn’t cool about my choices being mine alone, but that’s on him.”  

Rachel, Frankie and Jaime nodded knowingly, but Ash looked lost. “Somebody wanna fill me in?” He then seemed to recall something. “Oh! Is this what the scumbag comment was about? I wasn’t really paying attention. There was a platinum blonde coming down the hill, and that’s my preferred type, you know?”  

Angel sat beside him, fist bumping him for his comment before removing his arm from his thick jacket and rolling up his sleeve, tapping his Mayans tattoo. “This is what he don’t like.”

Ash’s mouth dropped open. “No way, bro. You’re an outlaw?” he exclaimed quietly. “That’s so badass!” He then drummed his hands off the table before standing. “Alright! I’ve been MIA for weeks so I’m figuring it’s my round first. Usual, everyone? Angel, come help me carry, man. We’ll get shots, too, start Friday early. Fuck it, I’ll wheel my bike round the back and come get it tomorrow, let’s drink.”  

Another fist bump was exchanged, the guys getting up and heading inside to the bar. It rolled right off Ash’s back, a total non-issue. That was him through and through, though. He was very accepting of people from all walks of life. Heck, it was his family dynamic, his mother a free-spirited Korean woman whose family had moved over when she was six and spent most of her late teens and early twenties hitchhiking around Europe and America, meeting his father, the trainee forensic accountant when she arrived in Reno.

“See, why can’t Aaron be like Ash?” Keri sighed, reaching across the table and stealing one of Frankie’s cigarettes.

“Because not everyone has a mom like Sook. I mean, the woman travelled through Texas with a charter of Hell’s Angels, after all. Remember she told us that? And the punks she lived with in London?” Frankie reminded her.

“And the drag queens in New York?” Jaime interjected with.

Frankie pointed at her girlfriend with a nod. “Yeah, them too. Ash has grown up with all of these stories, so it’s made him more open minded. You know Aaron is only concerned for you, no matter how frustrating it might be. Did he even talk to Angel much?”

Keri shrugged, taking a long drag on her cigarette. “It was mostly Angel making an effort. Aaron wasn’t rude, per say, but he didn’t engage more than he needed to.”  

“Well, so far I think he’s great, these two seem to love him, and I think Ash has a new guy crush, so that tells you a lot right there, doesn’t it?” Rachel added to the conversation. “And I am absolutely, hand on heart envious. He’s divine!”  

“And so far, from what I’ve seen, really nice guy, too. He’s engaging, he’s funny, he’s real. I like him,” Frankie offered, Jaime nodding.

“He has good energy. I like his aura.”

Rachel rolled her eyes, but her face was loving. “I knew you’d say that, babe.”  

As if further solidifying himself in her friend’s estimations, Angel returned with Ash after a few further minutes, carrying with him a towel full of ice. “Gimme your foot.” Keri obliged, Angel unlacing her boot and then resting her foot in his lap, holding the knotted towel to her ankle. Immediately, she let out a little whine, and it was so adorable, Angel felt his heartstrings tug. “I know, tiny. You’re just lucky it ain’t broken, only sprained.”

“If you’d have been on ski’s, K, you probably would have,” Ash added, leaning around Angel and passing her a shot of Jagermeister, everyone bar the driving duo of Rachel and Jaime sinking them, and Ash, who’d chosen something bright green and apple flavoured. “I dunno how you guys can drink that stuff. It’s like death in brown liquid form.”  

“Just because you can’t drink to save your life,” Rachel reminded him with a wink, Angel turning to him with a curiously raised eyebrow.

“Our boy here is a lightweight. Feather light,” Frankie nodded.

Ash was quick in his protesting. “Hey, I’m getting better! I had no choice but to recently. Went on a date with a girl from Tinder, she was there early and had bought me a drink. And so she’s hot, right, so hot, and she says she can’t date a man who doesn’t drink bourbon, so we’re on the fucking Jim Beam right from the first moment. I swear I matched her drink for drink, went and threw up, felt sober again and carried on, but all on an empty stomach, so I was wasted by 9pm and working my balls off to keep up the pretence I was fine.”  

“And you didn’t fall over?” Keri asked, sipping her beer.

“Nah, I’m leaving that to you this week, short stack,” he winked, grinning over his glass.  

“Oh, so you’re funny when mixed with bourbon!”

He shuddered instantly. “Never again. I had to let her down there, because I swear, if I even so much as smell that stuff again, I’ll throw up, or pass out. Probably both. I’m not her guy, if I can’t just drink beer than nope.”

“That’s like me and vodka, mano,” Angel revealed, lighting a cigarette. “I can’t drink it, not after sharing a bottle with a girl I was dating in high school and throwing up all over the damned place. I have never, ever been ejected from an apartment that fast in my life, didn’t even get laid either. Fucking sucked. Then on the way home I ended up getting cornered by a damned rattlesnake.”

The whole table then suddenly pointed at Keri, Ash leading the explanation. “Same thing happened to her when these guys went on a photography trip right out to the eastern borders of the state, and I went along for a day out. I had to run like fucking Superman, haul her over my shoulder and then quietly get the hell out of there before it struck her. She was just standing there screaming, frozen to the spot. My dad’s fucking nuts, though. We don’t get many around our house, we’re too urban, but if he’s anywhere where he encounters snakes and they won’t go away on their own, he stands on the back of their head gently, picks them up and flings them!”

“Yeah, he’s doing the right thing. That’s what I do now, too. Usually they just want to be left alone, but if one’s antagonised, sometimes you don’t get any choice. Especially if it’s in your house. We get loads in Santo Padre, because we’re basically a town right on the fucking desert. See, I got bite scars here,” he began, pointing to his hand, “here, and here,” he continued, showing the ones on his arms. “I don’t always have the best of luck with animals, man. I got a scar on my ass from being gored by a bull.”

The whole table looked interested by that, Angel going on to reveal the story. “So, my buddy Coco and I were drunk one time, he used to be in the military and was home on leave, and we decided to go cow tipping. Except we were much too drunk to notice the sign on the paddock gate that stated there was a bull within, and yep, he got me. Threw me straight back over the damned fence with a hole in my ass cheek, while Coco laughed so much, I think he did actually piss himself a little bit.”  

“Oh look,” Frankie laughed. “We got Calamity Joe 2.0 here!”  

“Why do I get the impression you have an entire catalogue of stories like that you could share?” Keri asked, Angel balancing the ice towel on her ankle so he could pick up his beer.  

“Because I do,” he winked, grinning. “I got some successes as well. Like when I was with a girl who kept horses, and I wanted to go get more alcohol but was too over the limit to take my bike, so I took one of her horses to the local liquor store. Rode him inside and everything, didn’t wanna leave the dude out there alone. The staff were too busy falling apart with laughter to yell at me, so I just grabbed the beer, got a bottle of tequila and a pack of smokes, threw it all into my backpack, and then me and Jeepers went home. It’s on YouTube still, I think. Some guy filmed it all.”

There was an immediate scramble for phones. “What’s it called?” Rachel cried, launching the app.  

“Drunk guy rides horse into store, or something like that,” Angel confirmed, Rachel tapping and then scrolling.  

“That’s Lucy, right? The only ex you’ve ever remained friends with, Sharise’s bestie? Did I remember right?” Keri asked, Angel nodding. She remembered him mentioning that they were still in touch, deciding that they worked much better as friends once their two-year relationship had come to an end.  

“You did,” he confirmed, looking to Rachel, who turned her phone to him.

“There’s more results than you’d imagine for that!” He reached for it, scrolling down, snorting with laughter when he recognised the thumbnail that was him, clicking and enlarging it, turning the volume up as everyone peered in close, beginning to laugh, a very drunken Angel riding a big horse through the aisles like it was the most normal thing in the world, saying “c’mon, Jeeps. Let’s go” once he was done, turning the horse around and nonchalantly riding him out again, his hooves loud upon the tiled floor as exited the store to a hell of a lot of laughter from customers and employees alike.

Angel very much marched to the beat of his own drum, and it was another thing in a nice little list beginning to build up over why Keri found herself liking him more and more with every moment that passed. She’d always been a little too cautious to be so spirited, so admired him for such. What she truly enjoyed even more though was seeing how well Angel fitted in with her little group, everyone leaving to go and change into more comfortable clothes (bar Ash, who’d packed a change) before they all met up again later at The Lounge.  

It was a night that ended a little short for Keri, though, abandoning drinking in order to be able to safely take a few painkillers, wanting to go and put her foot up somewhere comfortable, so heading back to the apartment at 8pm with Angel, while the others all stayed on.  

“I’m sorry me and my stupid ankle ruined the night,” she spoke, after getting comfortable in her pyjamas, sitting on the couch with another ice pack on her ankle, her foot once again in Angel’s lap.  

“You ain’t ruined shit,” he assured her, stroking her leg. “Getting to spend time with you is exactly why I came up here. Doesn't matter to me where the location for that is either.” It made something happy flutter through her insides, to hear that.  

“Oh!” she suddenly cried, remembering something she’d meant to show him much earlier. “I took this of you mid-air, and I think I did pretty good considering it was only on my phone.” While he and Ash had enjoyed tackling the ramp she’d taken a tumble upon landing from, Keri had sat down out of the way, clicking a few pictures with the aid of her iPhone, locating the best one of Angel and turning the screen to show him.  

“No way! I actually look like I know what I’m doing.” He studied the picture, swiping to find a few more, loving one of him and Ash pulling ridiculous faces, an ability they seemed to have very much in common. “I like that guy, he’s fuckin’ great.” he added, laughing as he handed her phone back, Keri sending him a few of the pictures over on a Whatsapp message.  

“He feels the same, although he says you give him beard envy. He can’t grow his for shit, it just comes in patchy whenever he tries,” she laughed, remembering the last time Ash had attempted anything more than designer stubble. Turning the screen again, she showed him one Frankie had taken of them both on their descent, Keri grinning from ear to ear while Angel had been trying his hardest not to fall over again.  

Saving them to a folder to keep her pictures all neat, she deleted a couple of old ones, landing on some she’d forgotten she’d kept on there. “Hey, look at these,” she spoke, shuffling a little closer to him. “Paris catacombs, five years ago when we went on vacation.”  

“Woah, that’s a fucking lot of skulls!” he exclaimed, Keri beginning to swipe through the images, explaining what she remembered from their tour guide. “You know, I wish I was more well-travelled, but we were fairly poor while I was growing up, so we never went anywhere far away on vacation. I’ve been a few places here and there in my adult years, but mainly within this continent. Furthest I ever went was Montreal, because Lucy has family up there. Going to Europe or further afield would be a trip, though.”  

“As soon as I’m finished with college, I’m going to do a little tour around, working as I go, kinda like Sook, Ash’s mom, but without the hitch hiking. I’ve been saving to head over to Ireland for a while, so that’s my first destination.” she revealed, placing her phone down and reaching to remove the ice from her ankle, giving it a couple of rotations. Ibuprofen and ice were definitely helping it hurt less.  

Angel nodded with a smile, excusing himself to use the bathroom, although he didn’t actually need to go. Her words had made a small flare flicker within him, a sudden wonder over how he would fit into the life of a girl who had those ambitions, with his own life so firmly rooted in Santo Padre. Questioning such so early wouldn’t usually have entered his head, but he had to acknowledge that even after a short time, Keri was most definitely someone who he could see himself eventually catching feelings for.  

It was certainly indicative of how much he really did like her already.

Fate had brought her to him for a reason, he thought, leaning back against the sink in the bathroom, quietly despairing at himself for having those thoughts. He could have a penchant for drama, he knew this, but usually his pragmatism got him through any emotional unsteadiness he experienced throughout life. Eventually.

Alas, women were his weakness. They always had been, Angel knowing that deep down, despite rarely being the man who ever offered anything more than fleeting connections where commitment was concerned, a committed relationship was exactly what he sought, someone who was all his, and he all theirs in turn. His longest relationship had lasted just two years. It wasn’t good going for a man who’d recently turned thirty-six.

“It’s day one with her, man,” he muttered, flushing the toilet and running the tap. “Y’all ain’t got nothing to stress out about yet, because it ain’t even anything right now.” Was it even dating? It was hard to define, having started in such a unique, unbelievable way.  

Still, when he returned to her, continuing their discussion, Keri noticed that he seemed a little different to what she’d gotten used to, her inner monologue beginning to babble. He seemed quieter, a little withdrawn, a definite shift that she couldn’t help but begin to fret over. Had she said something off putting?  

It wasn’t until much later, while he was sleeping next to her that it hit Keri. Her mention of travel; he’d closed off immediately after that. She closed her eyes, groaning faintly with discomfort at the realisation. They lived far apart enough as it was, and now she was talking of heading off for months on end, which she now saw at her sending a clear signal that going forward, there wasn’t any time set aside in her mind to continue seeing where things went with him.  

Had she just completely blown it? If things with him worked out, then she’d be prepared to reconsider her plans, or include him in them. Lying there cringing into the darkness, she knew if she broached it with him, she ran the risk of scaring him off completely, should her assumption be incorrect.  

She sighed softly, her insides turning over with an uncomfortable prickle. “I guess they don’t call me calamity Joe for nothing.”  

[lithiumdoll]

The Last Dryas

With the completely unfounded optimism that the new year provokes in me, I'm back on my bullshit! NaNo Story? Re-written. Finished? Except for edits. Being inflicted on Ao3 readers? For their many, many sins.

Podunk, Wherever’s stadium had been looking for an excuse to collapse for a decade and, thanks to Lukas’ temper tantrum, it had finally been given one. 

Three entire sections of the outer wall had fallen - two where Lukas had played battering ram, the third scorched black where Dash had been caught up in the eels and his thrashing had left big enough cracks that snow had settled in them.

The roadies had stripped the technics and broken down the sets as soon as the med techs cleared the arena, the only things left in the sullen light of dawn were frozen black mud ringed with corroded bleachers and rubble. Nothing to show where both men had almost bled out, let alone where a couple of teams had thrown a ball around twenty years ago.

Dunlap, almost spherical in protective layers, had trudged to the remains of its entrance and slapped on a dereliction notice. Made sense: no way the Colosseum - Fowler - would support a settlement that couldn’t make it worth their while. Circuit City wouldn’t stop there again, that meant no seed, no meds, no munitions - no chance.

The five hundred or so people living in the dilapidated shell of a library next door must have suspected they were walking dead months ago - probably as soon as their harvest failed. All Dunlap had done was nail the coffin shut. 

The lucky ones might find some other stop to take them in, but most probably wouldn’t try. It wasn’t like the months after A-Day; the new normal didn’t reward compassion to strangers.

None of Podunk’s people had tried to argue, they’d filed silently back into the dubious shelter of the library and deadbolted the still relatively solid door.

Hidden on the library roof, Casen had heard the bar clunk home with only a faint scrape of rust on rot. It wouldn’t do much against a pack of fomori, or even a concerted effort by a changeling, but it would keep the worst of the freeze out. He guessed Podunk’s people knew that too.

The library roof was surprisingly intact too - high enough to tell if the City was about to be visited by bookies demanding his head, and hard enough to climb no one was likely to stumble over him accidentally.

His hearing wasn’t as good as some, but he caught snatches of conversation as the inhabitants moved from room to room. A short, sharp bark of a laugh. The high wail of an infant, who was settled quickly.

A single figure broke away from the frenetic activity of the breakdown and made their way towards the library a few minutes later. Solidly built, with dark hair under a knitted cap, and dressed in guard leathers: Aaron. He bent under the weight of the large kit bag on his back as he struggled across the snow.

He dropped the bag at the library door, hammered twice with this fist, and turned back the way he’d come. The delivery had to be from Betty - she was the only one who’d risk it and Aaron wouldn’t fight through calf-high snow in his guard leathers for anyone else.

The bolt slammed back and the door opened a crack, then wider as hands scrabbled at the kit bag and dragged it inside. Casen heard gasps and the catch of a sob as the door slammed again. After a few minutes, the unmistakable scent of heated ration packs made its way up to the roof.

Betty had always said everyone should get a last meal. They hadn’t talked in years, but Casen guessed nothing had changed.

Silence fell in the small hours of the morning; Casen turned his attention back to the City. 

The two-hundred-and-fifty-strong road crew swarmed here and there as they broke it down. Nominally they were managed by Mayor Dunlap, in practice they operated like a hive consciousness. The majority were human and the few changelings in their ranks weren’t, as far as Casen knew, able to network minds. Do anything often enough and it became rote: the City might stay as little as two nights at a stop and never more than a week.

The frames for the sleeping pods and showers were already gone and the kitchen was almost down - that had probably provided the cover to allow Aaron to smuggle the supplies out. Next would be the burrow and then the armory.

The domiciles always came last, personal items in their crate for transport and the frames themselves folded into small, square cubes their owners could carry onto whatever car, bus, or truck they found a seat.

And there was Mayor Dunlap on the edge of the motor pool, bundled up in a snow coat and violently yellow scarf, literally directing traffic as the City fleet got underway. He didn’t need to do it - everyone knew their place and role - but he did it just the same.

The medical transport pulled away; Aaron had presumably made it back for escort duty. It carried the med techs, Dash, and whatever retaliation plan Dash was coming up with. He’d been conscious and swearing when the techs loaded him, at least: he’d be able to refuse regen. 

One-armed, yes, but safe from detection.

Aodh and Dae-sung were probably still in the motor pool, throwing roshambo over who’d get to drive the beat-up SUV Sid usually kept aside for them. Pops meant perks, choosing their ride was only one of them, and Dae-sung - specifically Dae-sung’s tail - needed the space. 

Normally, Casen would be with them. He had no popularity ratings to speak of - good - but Dae-sung always wanted an audience for his mixes before he took them live so that paid Casen’s way. He’d claim the back seat and listen to them bicker as he watched fields, scabland, old town, and sometimes - in the far distance - the new cities go by.

Normally, Casen hadn’t interfered in a fight and dismembered two of the Colosseum’s biggest names. They’d both live, but that wasn’t the point as far as the bookies were concerned. And if they didn’t put out a hit, Nico definitely would. They’d ignored each other cordially enough since he’d come back to the City, but she wouldn’t ignore an attack on Lukas, it was only a question of when and where she’d retaliate.

The chaos of the motor pool would be a good place to make a try; Aodh and Dae-sung didn’t need to be in the middle of that. And, if it came to it, Casen didn’t need witnesses. Allowing a few hours of distance between himself and the City would give Dunlap time to smooth things over, and he’d probably try - Dunlap wanted his people happy and executions were bad for morale.

Casen rubbed at the back of his neck; hours later and it was still throbbing, but still an improvement over the initial stab of agony when he’d sliced into Dash. He hadn’t meant to, he’d been intending to kill Lukas and that had fucked everything up.

Don’t lie. Don’t command. Don’t kill.

He’d remembered half a second too late and his implant had reminded him in the worst way possible: leaving Lukas alive and Dash on the wrong end of a blade, which had triggered the implant to fry his brain stem again. 

Kai and his fucking white hat.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/52586209

[hotched]

When You Love Someone

Summary: Reader comes back to get the rest of her things and say goodbye to Jack. Aaron and reader have the conversation they should have had in the first place but a little too late is still too late.

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4

Inspired by When You Love Someone by James TW

Warnings: mentions of Foyet and Haley’s death, mentions of past abuse to reader

Word Count: 3.4k

A/N: PLEASE listen to the song if you haven’t heard it. This wasn’t the original song this part was going to be based off of but based on some of your comments, this became a little more Jack-centric than I originally planned so I thought it fit. This is supposed to be more of Aaron’s POV but I don’t think that went so well. I struggled a lot with this part so please forgive any mistakes. I really really hope you enjoy!!!

“And if we’re crying on the couch

Don’t let it freak you out

It’s just been so hard

…

You’ll understand when you love someone”

He received the first text from you the day after you left. It read “Will come back on Saturday to get the rest of my stuff and talk to Jack. Please tell him I love and miss him”. Saturday was five days away which meant he had five days to stew on the consequences of his actions. He was no stranger to regret but it simmered a bit stronger this time. Especially when Jack woke up that morning and asked him where you went. He tried to avoid any explicit explanation of what happened but the eight-year-old took too much after his profiling father and quickly read between the lines. Jack shook his head and asked to be excused, throwing his uneaten oatmeal in the trash. Thoughts of what a failure he was plagued his mind and erased any sort of hunger he had felt before.

Their bosses silence the entire week seemed louder somehow. He could hear their speculation about you but always entered the room or let his presence known before they got too far. He didn’t care about their gossiping but it hurt to hear your name, no matter the context. As a profiler he should have hidden it better but it was either silence or anger and he had already failed his son and you. He couldn’t let the team down too.

Friday night came with better spirits when he told Jack you’d be stopping over the next morning. His son seemed to brighten at the idea of you being back. He believed that the two of you would talk it out and everything would be fine. Aaron couldn’t bring himself to break his hopes, relishing in the way his child was smiling for the first time in a week and speaking full sentences to him again. He had a hard time getting Jack to get to bed that night, though he didn’t fight him too hard when he kept asking for another ten minutes. He needed the distraction; he knew he wouldn’t be getting any sleep that night. Every second would be spent thinking about every minute of the two years you’d spent together and how it fell apart in the span of twenty minutes. He would agonize over every word and movement, every unspoken question and hope that he missed the first time around.

He fell asleep at some point in the early morning. Slipping into a dream after thinking about the day you met, his mind imaging a different ending to the nightmare of an argument that had played out a week prior. He should have apologized for being gone, admitted that he was avoiding you. He knew you would have understood and made him work for the forgiveness but give it eventually. But he didn’t think you would be forgiving him this time.

Never before had he raised his voice at you. You had been around a couple of times when he had to yell at Jack and his friends to get to bed or yell at someone from work during a late-night phone call but he had never yelled at you. He knew your past; he knew the memories that were associated with raised voices and the panic it made you feel. Your flinching broke his heart. He hoped you knew that he would never hurt you, would never put his hands on you, but he saw the way you pulled something in front of you to use as a barrier. It hurt worse than being stabbed nine times to see scared tears in your eyes because of him. He had never felt more like a monster, not even when they were pulling him away from Foyet’s dead body.

These thoughts plagued him as he went through the motions of his morning routine. Ever since you left, nothing was the same. You had taken your toothbrush off his bathroom counter, your makeup no longer covering the vanity making him smile and shake his head when he would get back from a case late at night. Your shampoo bottles were no longer fighting his for space in the small alcove shower. Every room he looked into was changed, it felt emptier, like he had since you left.

Jack was sitting on the couch, anxiously tapping his foot against the hardwood when you knocked. He was up and at the door before Aaron could let out the breath he’d been holding all morning. He followed behind his son, standing in the doorway to the living room as he watched Jack run into your arms. You had barely made it into the apartment before his little arms were wrapped around your neck and there were tear stains on your cheeks. He felt torn between scolding his son for his grip and wanting to join in on the moment. But he knew he wasn’t welcome and he only had himself to blame.

“Hey buddy,” you murmured, lips against Jack’s temple, one hand running through his hair while the other rubbed circles on his back. Aaron watched on as you told the little one how much you missed him.

“I brought out your favorite train so we could play and-” Jack excitedly rambled, Aaron felt bad for tuning him out but all he could focus on was the lost look on your face. He wasn’t sure what you had planned on telling his son but wanted to speak to you before anything happened. He wasn’t an optimist; he knew you were over but there was a small part of him that hoped there was a possibility you wouldn’t walk out his door that afternoon.

Taking pity on your attempt to stay cheerful for Jack, he swung his body off the wall and walked towards you, “Buddy, can the adults talk before you play? Your room’s been pretty messy this week, maybe you could work on getting it cleaned up before you play while (Y/N) and I talk?”

Jack shot his father a betrayed look, eyes narrowed into slits matching his lips which were set into a tight line. With his arms across his chest, he looked a lot like the older Hotchner during an interrogation. Aaron briefly wondered if this is how the unsub’s felt under his own “Hotch” glare.

He couldn’t hear what you whispered to Jack to get him to agree but soon enough only the two of you were standing in the hallway and he could hear the quiet thump of a door shutting.

“Can I get you anything to drink?” he asked quietly, eyes searching your face for some sort of a sign on how to start the conversation. Things had never been this awkward between the two of you.

You shook your head, eyes intense as they stared back at him. He motioned towards the living room, stepping back for you to make the first move. Before, he would have grabbed your hand and pulled you in when you walked past. Now, his fingers fidget at his sides, itching to grab you and apologize until you accepted his touch again.

He sat at one end of the couch while you sat across from him at the other side. You had pulled your legs up to hug them in front of you, chin resting on your knees while you took a deep breath.

“About the other night-”

“I’m sorry,” he professed, “you were right. About all of it. I was avoiding you and I’m so sorry.”

You let out a little huff with a shake of your head, “are you sorry for getting called out or for doing it in the first place?”

“Both” he emphasized, eyes locked on yours, “please let me explain.”

Your eyebrow raised but otherwise you stayed still, maintaining your composure in a way he couldn’t. His fingertips rubbed against the material of his jeans as he gathered his thoughts.

“About a month ago I was away for a case in Idaho” he started, pausing for a moment to see if you recognized what he was talking about.

You nodded, humming a little as your eyes glazed over for a moment in memory, “that was the one where you called me on the second day and told me you needed to hear my voice. You were gone for a week, one of the longest you’ve had in a while.”

His answering smile was soft for a moment before he remembered how the rest of the case played out.

“Yes, I told you I thought it was going to be a bad one. You didn’t hear from me the next day and sent me a text asking if everything was okay. I told you it wasn’t and I’d let you know when I’d be home. I know I wasn’t very forthcoming when I got back and you were graciously accepting as always. The team knew it would be bad, our profile was falling short and he was devolving. We thought that he would make more mistakes if it was a male figure that was reporting on the case so I gave the press conference instead of JJ…” he trailed off, his fidgeting becoming more pronounced.

You gave him a small smile and he watched as your fingers flexed against your knees. He selfishly hoped that you were itching to touch him too.

He shook his head and continued on with his story, meeting your eyes again, “He hired a couple of teens off the street to try to harass me as a diversion. While I was arguing with a three, one grabbed my phone. I didn’t realize it was gone until it was too late. I got back to the precinct and tried to see if Garcia could trace it to find him but before she could, we got a call. It was from my phone. He was threatening to come after you. He saw our text messages and threatened to come after you. I had a couple of officers outside of our apartment that night but they didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. The team convinced me that you were safe and I was best off trying to find him there in Idaho. I guess a part of me believed them, I didn’t think you were in any danger but the thought of something happening to you, like what happened with Haley,”

You cut him off, one of your hands going for his and pulling him into a tight hug. He succumbed to his desire to have you as close as possible and halted his story to pull you into his lap. One of his hands fisting your hair as the other held your waist tightly against his chest. He couldn’t stop the tears from running down his cheeks and could feel the side of his neck becoming damp with yours. The two of you sat like that until you pulled away, one of your hands coming up to cup his face.

“Oh Aaron…” you sniffed, one of his hands coming up to wipe at the tears under your eyes. His thumbs stayed, rubbing small patterns onto the side of your face.

“I was scared,” he admitted, licking at his bottom lip and looking at the wall behind your head, “I was scared something would happen to you because of me. I was scared to lose you”

You shook your head and tried to detach yourself from him. He allowed you to move, though all he really wanted to pull you back and hold onto you for dear life. Your hand stayed grasping onto one of his but you had moved to sit back against the edge of the couch like you were before.

“But Aaron, by pushing me away and trying so hard to shield me, you did lose me. You made me feel unwanted and unloved,” you paused and the tears in your eyes didn’t fall, but somehow that hurt him worse than the ones before, “I can deal with the loneliness. The long hours, the missed dates, but I promised myself that I would never stay somewhere I’m not welcome.”

Any hopes he had for any sort of ending crushed that very moment. Seeing the look of defeat in your eyes mixed with a steel that reminded him of the woman he fell in love with, the woman who had seen so much yet stood so tall. He couldn’t fault your resolve, he had never meant to put you in a position where you had to chose between yourself and him.

A small half-heated smile made its way onto his face and he brought your hand up to his lips, pressing a gently kiss to your palm.

“I never meant to do that, to make you feel that way. You have never been unloved or unwanted or unwelcome to me. I’m so sorry I made you feel that way. If I had known…” he shook his head and brought his eyes to meet hers, pressing another brief kiss to your knuckles, “I took advantage of your patience. I know this is the end but please know I love you. I think I’ve loved you from the first time you smiled at me.”

You shook your hand out of his grasp and raised it to his cheek, brushing your thumb against the heavy bags under his eyes and stroking along the thick of his eyebrow. The smile on your face was fleeting before you leaned forward to kiss the side of his lips.

“I need time Aaron. I know you didn’t mean it but it still hurt” you admitted with a small grimace.

His hands shook along with with his head, “I never meant to, I never wanted to hurt you.”

Your watery smile matched his own before you released his face to wipe at your tears. He matched your movements and pulled away as much as he pained him to do so.

“I’ll give you whatever time you need. I can move into the guest bedroom?” He asked hopefully, his eyes studying the threading on his pants, not wanting to see the shake of your head.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea” you mumbled, “I think that would confuse Jack and I, I think I need some time away to think.”

He let out a deep breath, one he hadn’t realized he was holding as he nods. Meeting your eyes once again, he lets himself hope that the love remaining in your eyes will win in the war you’re fighting within yourself.

“I understand”

“What did you tell Jack?” You asked after a moment, he could tell by the way your lips tightened and hands tensed that you were dreading the conversation just as much as he was.

He shook his head and shot you a pained smile, “I, uh, I didn’t. I just told him you would be gone for the week. I wasn’t sure what to say”

His admission seemed to soften your features. Your shoulders sagged and a short breath escaped harshly, making him somehow feel worse for his confession.

Another apology was on the tip of his tongue when you shook your head, “I’ve thought about it a lot over the past week… he’s not really a kid anymore, I don’t think we should sugarcoat it. We tell him that sometimes people grow apart but I still love him. I’ll still be around, just not every night. I can help take him to practices and pick him up from school when you can’t. I want to be here, I just need some space…”

“From me” he finished after you trailed off and avoided his eyes.

“It’s okay,” he murmured, “I understand and so will Jack. I won’t keep you from him. We’ll miss you but you have to take care of yourself. You have to decide what’s best for you. You’ll always be welcome here in whatever capacity”

Your answering grin made everything feel alright for just a moment before the pitter patter of small feet startled both of you out of the moment.

Jack’s observant eyes took in your positioning on the couch, noticing the space between you and the tears on your cheeks. Before, you two would have been as close as possible and Jack would have been making pretend gagging motions. Now, he missed Jack’s teasing and outbursts.

“You’re leaving” the young boy accused, eyes welling up with tears.

“Buddy-“ you crooned, voice filled with sorrow as you started to move from the couch.

“It’s because he works so much, isn’t it?” He cut you off, moving from the hallway to stand a couple of feet in front of the couch. His arms were crossed and his eyes brows furrowed. Aaron could see the way the boys foot twitched like he was itching to throw a tantrum.

“Jack, buddy,” you started, moving from the couch to kneel in front of him, “it’s not that simple.”

Aaron knew he should move, speak, do something to help you out, but the look Jack was directing his way had him frozen in his seat.

“Yes it is,” he started to pout, “he’s never home. It’s the same reason mom left.”

Aaron’s heart sank in his chest, his body falling backwards into the couch like he had taken a beating.

“Jack” you responded firmly, pulling the boy's face away from glaring at Aaron, “look at me. It’s not because of his work. It’s not because he’s gone. It’s not because of him or you or any other reason your head is going to try to tell you. Sometimes, things just don’t work out. Some people are just meant to be friends.”

“And I guess everyone is just meant to leave” he taunted, turning his back to the two adults.

“Buddy, I’m not leaving-“

“Yes you are!”

“If you’d let me finish” you responded with a pointed stare and raised eyebrow as he turned back around to roll his eyes, “I’m not leaving. I won’t be around everyday anymore but that doesn’t mean you won’t ever see me. Your dad does work a lot. I’m sure your aunt wouldn’t mind if I tagged along with you guys some days. Or if I picked you up from school after soccer practice when your dad has to work late. We’ll work it out buddy. I promise”

Jack took one last long look at you and then ran back to his room. The door slam was the only noise in the darkening apartment for a few minutes before Aaron watched as your body deflated with a sigh. Your hands were rubbing over your eyes and his guilt magnified.

“That went well” he remarked, one corner of his lips pulling up with the glare you sent his way.

“I don’t know what I was hoping for but it definitely wasn’t that” you quipped back, shaking your head as you turned to face him again.

He took a moment to examine you in the fading daylight. You were still the most beautiful person he had ever met, even with the bloodshot eyes he caused. His eyes traced over your features slowly, trying to memorize every inch of your skin as if it were the last time he’d ever see you.

“I know I said I’d get my stuff today but I’m not sure I have the energy to” you interrupted his musings, pushing your body up off the floor and brushing the wrinkles out of your shirt. He followed your movements with his eyes before joining you in moving towards the door.

“I can work on packing it up this weekend” he offered, holding up a hand to give you something to hold onto as you slipped into your shoes. An old gesture that used to make you smile.

You responded with a nod but avoided his arm. He left it hanging for a moment before returning his hands to his pockets.

As you gathered your coat and opened the front door, he wondered if he should ask you to stay; beg you to give him the chance to do better. But before he could speak, you were leaning a hand on his shoulder and reaching up to kiss his cheek. His eyes closed as your lips pressed ever so gently just above his jaw. No words were spoken in the bittersweet goodbye and by the time he opened his eyes, the door was closing behind you.

tag list:

@itsmytimetoodream @dadbodhotch11 @angelmather1 @averyhotchner @14buddy22

[scuttling]

Stay at Home DILF

Fandom: Criminal Minds Pairings: Aaron Hotchner/Female Reader Word Count: 5,863 Tags: 18+, NSFW, Dad Bod Hotch, Insecure Hotch, Oral sex, Fingering, Unprotected sex, A little angsty by accident Summary: Aaron retires from the BAU when the new baby is born, but a year later the lack of structure, sleep, and time for himself means changes to his body he's not very proud of. When the thought of having another child is brought up, how will he and his wife work through his insecurities to make the perfectly imperfect, happy family? *Requested by anon Link to A03 or read below! “Honey, I have to get going—do you need me to drop Jack off at school, or are you good?” Professor Hotchner slides her foot into a flesh-toned pump, leaning against the kitchen table for support and stealing a grape from Jack’s fruit salad. He narrows his eyes, then sticks out his tongue, and she does the same. “Do you want me to starve, Jackrabbit?”

“You won’t starve. Get your own grapes.” So full of sass, that one. Seven is such a fun age. She decides to blame the mixture of Aaron’s genes and Haley’s, and she pulls out her phone to send Haley a quick text.

Your son is a menace in the morning.

Haley: Gets that from his dad.

Aaron enters the kitchen, holding their one year old daughter Mia, and he sticks her in her highchair, puts her breakfast in front of her, and leans toward his wife.

“I’m good, I’ll take him,” he says, and kisses her lips. “Mia and I will take big brother Jack to school, won’t we?” Mia is obsessed with Jack—her first word was Jack, or rather, Ack, which was super cute—so she giggles happily, and her mother can’t help but smile. Their little family is absolutely perfect.

She leans in for another kiss from Aaron, and then another, and then maybe one more...

“You’re getting distracted,” Jack says, and she looks over at him with a raised eyebrow, then back to Aaron. He shrugs.

“It was on one of his vocabulary sheets.” Figures.

“Well, maybe I find my boys distracting. Let me give you kisses and we’ll find out!” She launches herself at him, kissing his head and his cheeks, and he laughs, and she knows she’s going to be late for work, but she can’t pass up moments like these, she just can’t.

She gives him a hug and tells him to have a good day, then she kisses Mia, and then she puts her arms around Aaron’s neck and kisses him goodbye. Before she pulls away, something comes over her—the warmth of this perfect morning, the overwhelming love for both of their sassy, silly kids, or maybe the fact that they’ve been too busy for sex lately and she’s constantly horny for him—and she looks up at him and whispers, “we should have another baby.”

Aaron grins immediately.

“Yeah we should.” They kiss a few more times, quickly, smiling against each other's lips, and he pats her hip because he knows she has to go. “We’ll talk more later, but yes. I want to. I love you.” He takes her face in his hands and kisses her deeply, and she sighs, grabs her bags, and heads out the door. Work is work; as the youngest professor in the English department, her schedule is jam packed with classes, lectures, morning office hours, but despite all that, it seems that Aaron is having the more difficult day.

They both love that he was able to retire from the BAU early to be a stay at home dad when Mia was born—he does consult for them occasionally, but has no official title, doesn’t have to travel—and he’s amazing at it, but she knows her baby can be a handful even on a good day. The texts she’s been getting all morning only solidify that knowledge.

Aaron: FYI - Mia hates bananas this week.

Aaron: What do they put in this applesauce, crack? She’s tearing around here like a bat out of hell.

Aaron: Okay, she’s your child, I officially renounce her. I put on The White Album and she started crying.

Maybe she prefers Abbey Road?

Aaron: No. Unlike her mother, she has taste.

You wound me, Hotchner.

She works through lunch, grading papers on The Call of the Wild, but when Aaron’s name lights up the display on her phone, she puts her pen down and smiles, puts it on speaker.

She’s sorry she did, because Mia is wailing in the background, and it’s very clearly her, I’m exhausted, asshole, leave me alone, cry, which makes her wonder why she’s not taking a nap. She knows she resists Aaron sometimes, doesn’t want him to leave her alone in her room, which is so sweet and also so, so annoying.

“Hi, sweetheart. Are you having a little trouble over there?” He takes a deep breath and sighs.

“She won’t go down, baby, even if I sit in the rocking chair beside her. It’s been twenty minutes.” Wow. He put up with it longer than she would have.

“Put her in her crib with Stuffy Bear and just let her cry; I know you hate that, but she’ll give up eventually.” He groans softly.

“I can’t; I feel so bad.”

She smiles. Her warm-hearted man.

“She does this because she knows you’ll give in and do whatever she wants. I promise you, she’ll be happier for it; she sounds miserable.”

“I don’t know…” he says, and she can tell he’s not going to do it. She picks up her pen and skims the paper she abandoned.

“Are you tired?” She doesn't wait for an answer, because she knows he is: Jack had a bad dream last night and woke them both up, and Aaron went to lay with him until he fell asleep because he knew she had an early morning. It was almost time for her alarm when he made it back to bed. “If you want to try to nap, she’s going to have to nap. Do it for her, yourself, me, a combination of the three of us. She won’t be mad at you; she won’t even remember.”

“What if I give her abandonment issues?” he presses, and she closes her eyes for a moment.

“Aaron, I love you so much. You’re such a great dad, and our kids are lucky to have you. But you have to loosen the reins just a little, especially if… if we are going to have another baby.” The thought makes her smile, and she can tell he’s smiling down the line, too.

“Right. Loosen the reins. Just put her in her crib,” she can hear that he does that, “and give her Stuffy Bear, and let her cry.” He blows out a breath, and she can hear the door click shut behind him as he leaves her room. She’s proud of him, but she also knows he’s going to sit in front of the video monitor and watch to make sure she falls asleep, and that he’ll probably work on laundry after that and not actually take a nap of his own.

He insists he’s doing fine when she brings it up, but the way he sacks out like a corpse when they get into bed doesn’t exactly have her convinced.

“I love you, and miss you,” he says when it’s slightly quieter, though she can faintly hear the cries through the monitor. “It made me really happy this morning when you said we should have another baby. We make perfect babies, have you noticed?” She hides her grin behind her hand, because if anyone walked by her office they’d think she’s insane with how widely she’s smiling.

“I have noticed, but since we only have the one and I can’t take any credit for Jack, I figured we should probably make another. Maybe the same way we made Mia…” They’re both convinced it was a weekend when Jack was at Haley’s and the two of them went to town on each other, true marathon sex where they only stopped for food and water and she coaxed him to hardness so many times she felt like a damn sex goddess.

“Hmm. I remember that with fondness, and would love to do that again. You know Haley said she’d take Mia on one of Jack’s weekends if we ever needed her to.”

Her life is pretty damn perfect, with her gorgeous, caring husband, and her two awesome kiddos, and a job she loves, but the most unexpectedly sweet part is that Haley is so comfortable with her, and that she and Aaron were able to get past the ugliness of their divorce to eventually become friends again. It’s not something they take for granted.

“Maybe we should take her up on it this weekend,” she says, trying to sound a little sultry. “We’ve both been so busy; it’s been a while since you pet my kitty.” For some reason, this particular phrase makes Aaron blush and get insanely horny, and she’s hoping to tease him so much the rest of the week that their weekend is one neither of them ever forget, so she’s pulling out the big guns.

“It’s been far too long, and I’m sorry. I can’t wait, baby. I’ll call her here in a few; I know you have to get to your next lecture.” She looks down at her watch, and it is about time to clean up and head over. She sighs happily down the line.

“Okay, I love and miss you; try to take a power nap. I promise, she’ll be fine.”

“I will.” He won’t. “Talk to you soon.” When she gets home, Aaron has dinner ready; she told him to hold off, that she’d help when she got there, but he has always been an overachiever.

Mia is already in her high-chair, waiting patiently for once in her little life; she kisses her forehead, breathes in her sweet baby smell, and then makes her way to her husband.

“Looks good, honey,” she says as he sets the table, and she leans up for a kiss, but when she presses her hand to his stomach like she always does, he pulls back a little. “Is everything okay? Did you have a bad afternoon?”

“No, it wasn’t bad after the nap fiasco,” he responds, but he sounds distracted. Maybe he was asked to look at a case, or something, and that’s still on his mind? She leans against his shoulder, puts a hand on his back and attempts to push up his t-shirt, to skim her hand up along his spine, which always comforts him, but again, he shifts away from her touch. She sighs and steps back.

“You're going to give me a complex, Aaron. If I did something to upset you, please tell me so I can apologize and try to make it better.” He turns to look at her face, and his formerly tense jaw softens a little; he presses his lips to hers, just a peck.

“No, you didn’t do anything. I’m just a little tired, that’s all.” He smiles softly, and she’s sure he is tired, but this seems like something more.

“You’d tell me if something else was bothering you, right? You know I’m here for you.”

“Of course I would, and of course I do. I love you,” he breathes against her mouth, and then he goes in for a longer kiss and she gets, as Jack said earlier, a little distracted. When the kiss breaks, she sighs happily.

“I love you. Missed those lips,” she murmurs, and then she runs a hand over his hair. “If the kids wake up again tonight, I’ll get them. You need to rest.” He shakes his head.

“You have another full day tomorrow,” he counters, and it’s so sweet that he keeps up with the schedule she has posted on the fridge, but still. She puts her hand on her hip.

“And you don’t? It’s my turn. Let me help.” He looks like he wants to argue, but she gives him the glare he knows means she will talk about this all night if he doesn’t agree; she’s not the sponsor of the university’s debate team for nothing, and even his prosecutorial ways have nothing on her.

“Okay,” he sighs, and she smiles and kisses him and then goes to get Jack and make sure he’s cleaned up for dinner.

That night when the two of them are getting ready for bed, she’s surprised as hell when he stops her from pulling one of his t-shirts—her typical sleepwear—over her head. She sets it down, arches her brow, and he guides her back onto the bed with a grin and puts his hands on her hips.

“What’s happening right now?” she asks, because before Mia, sure, Aaron would treat her to all manner of orgasm-inducing behavior at random, and she would do the same, but since Mia—especially in the last six months or so—their sexual encounters have been few and far between. It’s no one’s fault, and they’re both very clearly still attracted to each other; it’s just one of those things that falls by the wayside when you have a new baby and a hectic life and you don’t get enough sleep.

Needless to say, she is a little confused by this turn of events.

“I’m attempting to worship my gorgeous fucking wife,” he murmurs, and he leans up and kisses her stomach, licks a long line up from her belly button. Her breath hitches. “Gonna put another little baby in here—but it’s always beautiful.” He slowly moves his lips higher, over her ribcage, and holds her there. “You’re perfect, you know?”

“Aaron.” Her fingers come up to sweep through his hair; her heart aches with love and tenderness. He moves up, presses open-mouthed kisses to each of her breasts, then covers them with his hands and squeezes. She’s a panting, dripping mess, and more than anything she wants to strip him naked, pull him closer, get him inside her.

“I love you just as you are; I want you just as you are. Always have, always will.” He smooths his hands up over her throat, and brings her mouth to his for a deep, soulful kiss. She hadn’t even realized she’s been feeling repressed, but his touch tonight makes her feel so beautiful and special… It's incredible how close she is from only that.

“Make love to me,” she whispers, and he kisses her again, but then he slides back down her body.

“Want to taste you,” he says instead, and he gets his hands on her hips again and his mouth on her pussy, looks up at her while he licks and sucks like he’s gone without for ages—which he has, she figures, but it’s blowing her mind, her fingers scratching at the sheets, her neck arched. He massages her hips as his tongue works, as he grinds against the bed, and she comes with a whimper, because her body is so overwhelmed by how good she feels that she can’t even properly vocalize it.

Aaron comes up, just a little, rests his head on her stomach, and she smooths her hands over his hair and his shoulders, since that’s all she can reach.

“Come up and let me touch you—or you can come inside me.” She will happily take either option, but he just kisses her belly and shakes his head.

“No, I’m good. Just really tired.” She frowns, can’t recall a time in her life when they didn’t both get off during sex; he catches her expression and runs his hands up her body. “Really, I’m okay. I just wanted to do that before I passed out.” He smiles, and she doesn’t like it, but he climbs off of her and goes to the bathroom, and she pulls on the t-shirt and crawls into bed. Two days later, she’s sitting in her office grading tests when she hears a knock at the door. She looks up, and it’s Aaron, of course, looking so gorgeous in a black polo and jeans.

“Hey, what are you doing here? Where’s Mia?” she asks with a smile. He leans against the doorframe with his arms crossed.

“She’s with her Aunt Penelope for a few hours.”

“Why? Is everything okay?” Penelope is at work, she knows, because she texted her earlier about something unrelated and she’d mentioned that she and Spencer were having coffee and that he said hello.

“Everything‘s fine,” he assures her, and he enters the room fully, closes the door behind him… and locks it. “Can’t your husband come visit you during your super secret not-really-office-hours?” She raises an eyebrow, both at his question and the fact that he locked the door. What exactly is he planning to do, she wonders?

“You can, but you don’t. I guess I’m just surprised.”

“Well today I decided to. I missed you so much.” He walks around her desk and leans over her for a couple of kisses. “Have you missed me?” She rolls her eyes, smiles.

“Of course I missed you. I miss you every second I’m away from you.” She reaches out, wants to hug him, pull him closer, but he takes a step back and crooks his finger, encouraging her to follow him.

He’s being really weird, but he’s also being really hot. She decides to play along.

She stands, walks over to him, and he carefully clears a spot on her desk, knows she has a system and doesn’t like a mess; when she’s within reach, he puts his hands on her waist and lifts her up onto it, her ass where a stack of tests had just been. Fuck.

“I want to get this dress off of you,” he says, voice low, and he takes her face in his hands and kisses her, rough and deep. “Can I take it off, baby? Can I make you come?”

Everything is happening so fast her head is spinning—it’s not like him to just show up at her office, to try to have sex with her there, especially when their dry spell has been, up until recently, like the damn Sahara.

He must sense her confusion, her apprehension, because he kisses slowly along the side of her throat, down the v-neck of her dress, making her eyelids flutter.

“The door’s locked, and no one even knows we’re in here. Can I take it off?” She pants, thinks about this for a second, but then he slides a hand over her thigh, pushing her skirt up, and she gets a little distracted. She nods, and he kisses her hard and unties the sash of her wrap dress, pushes it off her shoulders. She’s glad she wore a matching set of bra and panties, because this is like prime fantasy material and she wants to try to remember every detail.

He kisses her mouth, soft and sweet, then tugs the straps of her bra down her shoulders, pulls the cups down so her breasts fall out of them. She moans, a little startled, and he dips his head to mouth at her nipples, rests one hand on her lower back and one on her stomach—probably because she looks like she’s about to slide off the desk and onto the floor like a blob of jelly. She knows that’s how she feels.

When he’s gotten her thoroughly worked up, almost trembling with the need for more, he pushes her panties aside and presses a finger into her, and she whimpers, wraps her hand around his neck for support when he starts to pump it deeply inside.

“What has gotten into you?” she breathes, and her hips chase the pleasure he brings; the hand on her back moves to her ass, squeezes it.

“I love you and I want you. I want to make you happy, I want you to feel good.”

“Me—me too,” she gasps as he moves faster, staring right into his eyes. “I love you, want you. Want to make you happy, feel good.” She cards her fingers through his hair and stretches for a desperate, eager kiss. “I want you so badly, baby, please.”

“I’m right here. You have me,” he murmurs, but that’s not what she means and he has to know it. Just in case he doesn’t, though, she makes herself loud and clear; relationships are all about communication, after all.

“I want you to put your cock in my pussy, I want you to come in me. I want you to fucking ruin me, Aaron, I want you to shove your dick in me and keep shoving.” She sounds unhinged, but she can’t stop.

He adds a second finger—not what she wants—and roughly gropes her breast—it feels so good, but it’s not what she wants. Why won’t he give her what she wants?

“Shh, just come on my hand, it’s okay. I’ll fuck you later, in our bed, baby,” he promises. “Just come now, okay? Right here, right now for me.”

She does, because even if he’s being unnecessarily aggravating, it’s still Aaron. She’s desperate for him, always has been, always will be. She comes loud and high and she clutches him tightly and he kisses her and coos words of love and affection into her ear. She gets cleaned up, and they go for lunch, and they can’t take their eyes off each other.

Something’s very wrong, and she can’t quite put her finger on it.

That evening when she gets home, Aaron is feeling guilty. She’s not sure why, but he’s executing all of his patented guilty trademark behaviors: he offers her a glass of wine, runs her a bath, rubs her feet, even though he’s been the one home with the baby all day. She’s tempted to ask if he’s cheating on her, as a joke, but that’s never funny, especially when she knows he’s being shifty and weird about something.

When they’re laying in bed, he sets down his book and looks over at her.

“I meant to tell you, Haley isn’t able to take Mia tomorrow. Maybe the weekend after, we can have our special alone time.” She won’t say she’s not disappointed, but she doesn’t want to inconvenience Haley, when she’s already being so great. She smiles softly, covers his hand with hers.

“That’s okay. It was short notice, anyway. I’ll still enjoy my weekend, with you and Mia.” He smiles too, but it doesn’t quite touch his eyes.

The kids sleep through the night, but she doesn’t. On Friday, she picks Jack up from school and takes him to Haley’s, who sends him to wash up so she can make him a snack. When he’s gone, she smiles warmly and invites her into the kitchen for coffee; she takes a cup, and they make pleasant small talk like they always do.

“Are you sure you don’t want to bring Mia over?” Haley asks after a few minutes. It sounds like she’s double checking. “It’s really no trouble.” She frowns, sets her cup down.

“I thought you weren’t able to watch Mia this weekend. I thought… I thought that’s what Aaron said. I must have misunderstood him.” That’s the only logical conclusion, because Aaron wouldn’t lie to her. He wouldn’t.

“He was being a little weird on the phone the other day. He asked me if I would watch her, and I said yes. He told me about your plans,” she says with raised eyebrows, “and then I told him, you know. That he better treat you right, because you just had a baby not that long ago and you might be a little self-conscious about jumping back into the sack like that; not that you should be, because you look amazing.” She racks her brain for the first time he started acting strangely, pulling away from her, and it would have been after his conversation with Haley. She asks, just to confirm.

“Is that when he got weird?”

“Actually yeah. He changed his mind, said you might not need me to watch her after all, but I told him the offer stood. He was pretty quick to get off the phone after that.” She would sip her coffee, but she’s pretty sure her hands are shaking. Why would he lie about that?

“You know, I should go. I’m sure Aaron’s pulling his hair out with her, she’s been a devil today. Tell Jack I love him and I’ll talk to him tonight, will you?”

“Of course. If you change your mind about Mia, just let me know,” Haley says, and she gets into her car with tears stinging her eyes.

When she gets home, Aaron is playing with Mia on the living room floor. He looks up at her with a smile that abruptly falls when he takes in her facial expression.

“What’s wrong?” She composes herself, takes a deep breath. They vowed a long time ago not to argue in front of Jack or Mia. She tries to sound conversational.

“You lied to me. You said Haley couldn’t take Mia this weekend.” He swallows and looks properly guilty. She’s not sure how he was able to lie to her in the first place; he’s never been any good at it.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have. I just didn’t know how to say it.” She looks up, shakes her head, wills her eyes not to water while she’s trying to have this conversation.

“You didn’t know how to say what? What is it that’s made you distance yourself from me?” She recalls him physically pulling away, then doing a complete 180 and initiating sex, but never penetrative sex, never letting her touch him or return the favor in any way. “Haley told me about your conversation. So do you think I’m unhappy with my body, or are you unhappy with my body?” He has the nerve to look confused, gets Mia set up with some toys she can play with safely on her own and stands up, comes close to her. She’s not sure she even wants his touch right now, which is saying something; when she’s unhappy, that’s usually all she wants.

“Neither of those things. I swear to god. I love you and I love your body; you’re so beautiful. Too beautiful for me, you always have been.” He’s looking down at her so seriously, and she wants so badly to believe him, but how could she, when faced with the evidence?

“Okay. If it’s neither of those things…” Her voice is small when she says the one option that hurts her most. “Did you change your mind? Do you not want to have another baby with me?” He sighs, deflates, and she takes a deep, shuddering breath.

“No, listen to me. It’s not that I don’t want that; I want that more than anything, but it will… further complicate, things...” He trails off, and she tries to follow what he’s saying. “The problem isn’t you in any way. It’s me.” She huffs, squeezes her eyes briefly shut.

“You? How can it be you, when you’ve been the only man to catch my eye for years? From the moment you set foot on my campus looking for your bad guy, I’ve been attracted to you, aroused by you, wrapped around your finger. You’re so perfect for me: perfect husband, perfect dad, perfect lover. My best friend. Never a day has gone by where I haven’t wanted you.” He wets his lips, sighs.

“Surely you’ve noticed that since I quit my job and started staying home with Mia, I… I don’t look the same. I’ve… let myself go.” His brows are deeply furrowed, and he’s clearly struggling with this; she reaches for him, no longer angry—at least for the time being—puts a hand on his arm.

“I’ve noticed that you don’t quite look the same. Doesn’t mean you’ve ‘let yourself go,’ or that I’m not still attracted to you; you just have a dad bod now instead of an ‘FBI guy who punches people for a living’ bod.” Her other hand hovers, then comes to rest on his stomach, and she smiles. “I’m actually really into the way you look now. I’ve been fantasizing about it for ages. I wish I’d known you were feeling self-conscious.”

“I’m not used to feeling… self-conscious, vulnerable,” he breathes, but he presses into her touch, so she considers that a good thing. “I didn’t know how to handle it.”

“I get that baby, I do, but this is me. I would have done anything I could to make you feel better. You didn’t have to hide it from me. You didn’t have to lie. We could have talked about it.” She moves the hand on his arm to his face, guides him down for a loving kiss. “We’re equally to blame, because I know you haven’t been getting good sleep, and I know you barely have time for yourself, and I didn’t step in; but you never let me help. If roles were reversed, and it was me staying home with Mia, you would never expect me to do all the cooking and cleaning and homework and bath time without your help. So you need to let me help, Aaron, please.” She looks up at him, eyes warm and sincere, and he nods, bends to press a kiss to her lips.

“I’m sorry. I still don’t feel great about… myself, but maybe I could. If I let you help. If I took some time for me.” She nods and wraps her arms around him—finally—for a hug.

“I love you so much. Just like this. Big, cuddly papa bear, taking care of our babies, making our home a safe and happy place for them. How could I not love the body that brings me so much happiness? That makes me excited to get in my car and come home at the end of every day?”

They kiss some more, deep, healing kisses and soft, sweet kisses, but she doesn’t get distracted by them. She’s very focused, caresses him and brushes loving fingertips over his chest and arms and sides. But speaking of distractions…

“Were you doing all those sexy things to try to distract me from wanting you to get all up on me?” she asks, pulling back, and at least he has the decency to flush.

“Kind of? I figured if it was sex you wanted, you’d be happy to get off however it happened; it was great for me too, don’t get me wrong, I just didn’t really want to be touched, feeling the way I felt.” She frowns, rests her head against his chest and holds him tighter.

“That makes me sad. What I wanted was an intimate moment with my husband, and while yes, what you did for me was great, because you’re super hot and very capable,” she says, leaning back in his embrace with a soft smile, “it’s not what I’ve been wanting. I want you all naked and sweaty and heavy on top of me, going to pound town.” He presses his lips together and raises his eyebrows.

“Pound town? What are you, twelve?” She grins, shoves his chest, and he laughs.

“I’m surrounded by college kids all day, please forgive me. I think it got my message across though.” She touches his cheek, looks up into his eyes, and sighs. “Can we take Mia over to Haley’s and give it a shot? I’ll do anything to make you feel happy and comfortable, any position that makes you feel better—though what I’d really like most, if you’ll trust me, is to suck your dick, and then hop on your dick, and then later when we’re ready to go again, we do the pound town thing and make another goddamn baby.”

She’s so serious, and he looks so serious, and then he kisses her and says yes and they pack up their kid and take her to his ex-wife’s so they can get it on, which sounds so much crazier than it actually is. She gets him out of his clothes, doesn’t move slow or spend lots of time focusing on what he thinks are flaws; instead, she proves how desirable he is by practically tearing his pants off and pushing him against the bed and swallowing around his dick just so she can hear all those delicious moans she’s been missing.

After that, she rides him hard, kisses him harder, plants her hands on his chest and stomach and moans and groans against his mouth. “So fucking hot, seriously so fucking hot, Aaron—if I saw you across the room today I wouldn’t change a goddamn thing, I would still pursue you, I’d make you blush like I did back then. I’d be so forward because I wouldn’t be able to stop thinking about how good this would feel.”

She’s rocking his world, no doubt about that; it’s written all over his face, in the hardness of his hands on her hips as she grinds down on his cock, in the way his chest is heaving despite not actually doing any of the work at all. He comes first, and then rubs her clit while she continues to fuck him until she finds her own orgasm; she scratches her nails down his stomach, and he leans up and grabs her face for a rough, perfect kiss.

They take a break, cuddling and kissing and enjoying the feel of bare skin, comfy bed, soft lips. Aaron touches her cheek, tells her how much he loves and appreciates her.

“I’m so sorry I’ve been keeping this inside, and not being truthful. It’s hard, when you’re as perfect as the day I met you, and I’m…” She presses a finger to his lips, shushes him, kisses him.

“You’re as perfect as the day I met you, too. More perfect, even, because every day since then you’ve chosen me, and our family. I could not ask for a better man. Simply could not, Aaron. And if you want me to come home early so you can go to the park to run, or to the gym, then that’s what I'll do, but if you look like you do right now, forever, I’ll be happy with that too. Whatever makes you happy.”

They snuggle and kiss and talk and laugh, and then laughing becomes sex in that way everything becomes sex when you’re genuinely obsessed with the person in your bed.

He gets her on her back, kisses all over, teases her—“mmm, rubbing your kitty, baby, how does it feel?”—and then puts her legs over his shoulders, plants his hands, and fucks, taking every ounce of his pent-up frustration out on her, and it’s incredible.

“Yes, Aaron, yes, baby, oh, god.” Her head is thrown back, and she’s torn between laughing, because she’s been wanting this for months and it’s exactly as awesome as she’d dreamed it would be, and crying, because she fucking loves him, so much it puts a lump in her throat.

“Fuck, baby,” he groans, speeds up, sweaty and gorgeous and smiling. “You’re going to come with me—not just for me, but with me, so my come gets deep inside, so it works and we get another perfect baby who never lets us fucking sleep.” She nods frantically, presses her hips against his, and it’s not simultaneous, but it’s a near damn thing, when they both come groaning each other’s names. A little less than a year later, they have Mason. Aaron is at home in his dad bod, Mia doesn’t cry at naptime, Jack is still a menace in the mornings, and their perfect little family got a little more perfect. Taglist ❤️: @arsonhotchner @mrsh0tchner @ssahotchie @sleepyreaderreads @mintphoenix @meghannnnnn @disgruntledchowchow @azenpal @g-l-pierce @my-rosegold-soul

[daddyjackfrost]

adorably awkward — spencer reid

> spencer reid x gm!reader

genre: humour, fluff, flirting (2k+ words)

warnings: awkward spencer, club setting, mentions of alcohol, confident reader (gasp), no spoilers

reblogs are appreciated <3

masterlist

Never listen to your highly attractive male friend, especially one who has extreme game with the ladies.

Spencer had come to this conclusion very early in the night. Derek had gotten six numbers, five of whom he never asked for. Emily had gotten three, and Penelope had been talking to the same man for almost two hours.

Spencer sat at the bar, alone, drinking the same glass of water he had gotten twenty minutes ago.

“Kid, why are you just sitting there?”

Morgan took a seat next to Spencer, eyeing his water as he placed his bottle of beer next to it. Morgan was the one who had suggested that the team go out to an actual club, instead of just a bar. Aaron, Dave, and JJ backed out. Two for family, and the other, for jazz and Cuban cigars.

“Well,” Spencer said. “I could stand in the corner, but then I’d look like the guys we hunt. Sitting here makes me look less pitiful.”

Derek took one look at Spencer’s unamused eyes and burst out laughing. Slapping his friend’s back, Derek leaned on his arms and his eyes scanned the bar. Just as he was about to say something, Spencer interrupted him. “Don’t even bother, Morgan.”

Derek let out a small laugh. “Come on, kid. There’s not one girl or guy here that caught your eye?”

Spencer raised his eyes and turned his chair, Derek following in suit. Spencer’s eyes didn’t need to scan the club, not when he already had laid eyes on someone beautiful the moment he walked in.

“Of course there is,” Spencer mumbled. “But, you know, I’m me. So, there’s no point in trying.”

Derek grabbed Spencer’s seat and spun him to face him. “Hey, now. None of that talk, kid. You’re a catch, pretty boy. Ya just gotta know how to talk smoothly.”

“Yeah, Morgan, I know. But I don’t know how to talk smoothly. I’m not a smooth talker.”

Derek rolled his eyes. “Now I know that ain’t true. Listen,” Derek leaned in, “Ya gotta let the lady take the lead, alright? You let her know you’re there, maybe buy her a drink, and then you see if she’s interested. And then, ya talk. Until she gives the go, ya don’t say nothin’ bout nothin’. Especially physics or killers.”

Spencer listened carefully, even though the music was loud. “I don’t get it. How do I get there? How do I not talk about physics?”

Derek let out a breath through his nose, his eyes holding amusement. “See that girl over there?” Derek pointed to a woman wearing a red dress. “She had her eyes on you a while back. There’s a free seat right next to her. Take it, and then work it.”

Derek got up and squeezed Spencer’s shoulder. “You got this, kid.” Derek then walked away, his beer in his hand.

“Wait, Derek!” Spencer turned his head, “I don’t know what ‘work it’ means!”

Turning back, Spencer sighed into his hands. After counting to ten and mumbling “you can do this” a few times, the doctor stood up and made his way to the other end of the bar.

Spencer paused before he reached the woman, but then he felt Derek's eyes on his back, and Spencer knew he had to sit down. If Derek could do it, so could he.

“Is this seat taken?”

Spencer’s voice was strong, even though his hands shook. He hoped the small amount of fake confidence he had would get him far enough into a good conversation.

The woman turned her head and looked Spencer up and down before smiling. “Nope. It’s yours.”

Letting out a small awkward smile, Spencer sat down. Cursing himself for making it this far. He honestly hoped she would have said yes, and he could go back to his comfortable seat at the other end of the bar.

“Can I buy you a drink?”

The woman’s eyes fell to the drink in her hand, as did Spencer’s. With a slight cough, he mumbled, “or not, since you have one.”

The woman’s smile grew smaller, and Spencer knew he was losing her. “Do you, uh, come here a lot?”

The woman raised an eyebrow. “I don’t know if I should answer that.”

Spencer’s eyes widened and he quickly jumped to explain himself. “Oh, no! I didn’t mean it like that! I’m not some weird stalker or anything,” when the woman’s smile completely dropped, he continued, “I’m actually an FBI agent.” Spencer pulled out his FBI identification.

Interest flickered in the woman’s eyes before she let out a brief laugh, one to cover the silence.

“Right, well, that’s good, I suppose. I’m glad you’re not a weirdo.”

Without much thought, Spencer crossed his ankles and brought his hands to his chest. “Actually,” Spencer gestured. “Statistics show: that on average, one person can—”

The woman stood up from the bar and sent Spencer a false smile. “My phones actually ringing, so I have to go.”

Spencer smiled tightly, trying not to dwell on the fact that the woman’s phone was not ringing, and still on the table.

The woman walked away, and Spencer dropped his head into his hands and let out a loud groan.

“Wow,” came a feminine voice from his right. “Now that was a train wreck.”

Spencer lifted his head and his eyes fell on the woman he first laid eyes on when he walked in. She leaned forward, her legs crossed and a glass of coke in her hand. Her eyebrows were raised and there was a teasing smile on her lips. She sat diagonal from Spencer, her eyes on him.

“That sucked.”

Spencer pursed his lips. “I wish I could say that I’m off my game, but that was my game.”

The woman laughed, tipping her head back. Spencer’s cheeks grew warm at the sound of her laughter. She was beautiful, and very out of his league.

“Well,” the woman smiled teasingly. “For next time, maybe don’t insinuate that you’re a weird stalker or anything. I know most women don’t dig that.”

Spencer smiled, a mix between a scoff and a laugh escaped his throat. “Smart. I’ll keep that in mind.”

The woman shrugged, then she leaned forward, her arms resting on the counter. “Are you really FBI?”

Spencer nodded. “I’m part of the BAU. The Behavioural Science Unit.”

“That’s the unit that studies the behaviour of serial killers and stuff, right? You make profiles and catch killers based on them?”

Spencer nodded once again, a small smile on his face. “You’re absolutely right. Are you interested?”

The woman raised an eyebrow. “I mean, it is interesting. I’m just wondering whether or not you went to charm class. The FBI has those, right?”

Spencer’s mind blanked, and all that came out was a small “huh?”

The woman’s eyes flickered behind Spencer before they met his warm brown ones. She grinned as she brought her glass to her lips. “FBI has to be charming, right? I mean, the rest of your friends all seem to have gone to that class.”

Spencer turned his head and found Derek, Emily, and Penelope staring at him with wide, encouraging eyes. He turned back, letting out a small sigh.

“Don’t be so worried,” the woman said. “If all FBI agents were charming, you would rule America. We need the adorable awkward ones. Balances things out.”

Spencer’s cheeks warmed at the comment. “Are you here alone?”

The woman shook her head. “No, I’m on babysitting duty. Two of my friends are here and completely wasted, so I’m here to make sure they get home safe.”

Spencer’s eyes flickered to the woman’s and he held her stare for a moment before breaking it.

“That’s nice of you.”

The woman shrugged. “So, you’ve been sitting at the other end of the bar for almost two hours. What made you come over here and talk to her?”

Spencer bit his lip, a feeling of pity in his stomach at the thought of the other woman. When he lifted his eyes, he found the other woman looking at him, a small comforting smile on her lips and her eyes holding no judgement.

“My friend actually told me to go over and talk to her. He said I should take a seat next to her and ‘work it.’”

“What does that mean?”

“That’s what I said!”

Both the woman and Spencer burst out laughing, a feeling of comfort washing over them.

“He said that the lady should take the lead. So I guess I was hoping she would.”

The woman scoffed and her smile dropped. “He said what?” She leaned forward, motioning for Spencer to do so as well. “Listen, bud, never listen to an attractive friend. Especially the ones who get handed all the numbers. They don’t know the struggle. They just flash a smile and suddenly everyone’s in love.”

Spencer’s eyes widened and he raised his hands. “That’s what I said! Or, was thinking! He doesn’t get it.”

The woman nodded. “Trust me. I get it.”

Spencer wanted to say something. How could someone as beautiful as her get what he was feeling. She spoke confidently, and she didn’t seem like someone who would need any help.

“Let me tell you the best way into a woman’s heart. Or pants.”

Spencer choked on his water and the woman snorted at him. Spencer wiped his mouth with a napkin and turned to face the woman completely. “I’m listening.”

The woman smiled and laced her fingers together. “First of all, be confident, but not cocky. If a woman is at a bar by herself or with her friends, chances are, she wants to meet a hot guy she can hook up with. Or, she’s not looking for a guy at all. You gotta learn the difference. Plus, take the lead. Unless it’s clear you shouldn’t. Most women want the guy to take the lead.”

Spencer listened carefully. Mainly because he found the woman’s voice to be mesmerizing, and because she seemed to know what she was talking about.

“And second, be yourself. You really shouldn’t have to downplay your personality, unless you suck. And then you should definitely not be yourself.”

“What if being myself is the problem?”

“Then you haven’t found anyone worth your time.”

The woman and Spencer held each other’s gaze until she looked down at her glass. “You’re cute, smart, I assume. Since you obviously know a lot of statistics. And you’re adorably awkward. She wasn’t worth your time.” The woman brought her glass to her lips and took a sip. “That, and she would’ve eaten you alive.”

Spencer laughed, nodding. “Probably.” He hoped the dimmer lights of the club hid his bright red cheeks. After a few quiet moments, Spencer spoke again. “I get really awkward when it comes to conversing with women about things that are not work-related.”

“You’re talking fine with me.”

Spencer paused, and he lifted his head and met the woman’s warm eyes. She smiled at him and a swarm of butterflies flew around in his stomach.

“Yeah, I guess I am.”

The woman slid off her stool and stood straight, smoothing down her clothes. Spencer watched her, hoping she wasn’t going to just walk away.

The woman took a few steps closer to Spencer, leaning her back against the counter, right beside the doctor. Her eyes watched the crowd, and Spencer knew she was looking for her friends.

“There they are,” she mumbled.

The woman turned her head and Spencer’s breath hitched. She was close, and she was absolutely beautiful up close. The woman smiled at Spencer, a smile he hadn’t seen on her before.

She opened up her purse and grabbed a card, handing it to Spencer.

“If you ever need a woman you can converse with, call me. Or, call me for the sake of it.”

Spencer looked down on the card. There was no name, just a number. The woman took a few steps away from Spencer, but he gently took hold of her wrist, halting her.

“I thought you said the guy should lead?”

The woman grinned, her eyes bright. “I said most women want the guy to lead.” She tugged her wrist out of Spencer’s hold and slipped her hand into his.

“You can lead the date.”

Spencer’s mouth dropped and his eyes widened. Before she could walk away, he squeezed her hand once before letting it go. “Can I at least know your name?”

“Can I know yours?”

Spencer’s smile widened and his cheeks hurt.

“Spencer.”

“Y/n.”

taglist (ask to join): @h-grangerstudies @elektrosonix @corvid-of-wren-fell @redroomwidows @coffeandtswift @spencersrose

reblogs are appreciated <3

[thenovelartist]

The Fine Line of Loving You - Chapter 2

<Previous Next>

Day 2: Accident

Everything went perfectly. Rosa had been enough a distraction to keep any watchful eyes on her, Aaron had given Luke the all-clear from where he was, and Luke had successfully tailed the culprit out of the building. He was certain he was going to catch the man.

Until he heard the ringing of a fire alarm in the building behind him.

“I’m caught.”

Luke’s gut sunk like a rock at the sound of Rosa’s voice blipping in his earpiece.

“Luke, stay on it,” Aaron’s voice sounded. “Rosa, I’m coming. Where are you?”

There was no response.

“Rosa, do you—”

Boom!

The shockwave of an explosion rolled through him. Luke spun around to look behind, only to catch half the building on fire.

The next two minutes felt like a lifetime. Luke turned to face the culprit, that now was sending him a wicked grin. In the next second, Luke had the man pinned to the ground. Only for the man to hold a gun under Luke’s jaw. The next forty-seven seconds were a struggle as Luke tried to wrestle the gun out of the psychopath’s hand. If it wasn’t aimed at Luke, the man was aiming it at his own head, and Luke was determined to bring this man in alive.

And when Luke finally did wrench the gun from his hand, the man managed to wrap his finger around the trigger, squeezing it and causing another bang to go off in the night and sending a 9mm somewhere. Luke didn’t feel it physically although the sound might as well have sent a hammer to the side of his head. His eardrum would be ringing for days.

The next twenty-one seconds seemed to go by slower as Luke struggled to get the man into a chokehold, squeezing tight to hopefully knock the man out. And when he fell limp, Luke was scrambling to restrain him.

“Aaron! Come in!” he shouted into the earpiece as he slapped a pair of handcuffs on the man. Only he got no response. “Aaron, do you copy?”

Again, no response.

“Aaron, do you—”

A car screamed up to them, screeching to a halt right in front of them. "Luke, get in there," Aaron said, bursting out of the car door. "Rosa’s not responding.”

Dammit!

The next moment, Luke was flying back towards the building, pushing past the screaming crowds of people scrambling to get away from the fire and chaos as fast as they could. Once he made it inside, he watched a few stragglers make their way out of the otherwise empty building. Pulling his gun out to hold at the ready, he quickly scanned what he could see before assessing where he should go. His head was a mess, and he hadn’t felt this discombobulated since his rookie days. Every second was precious time wasted but he needed to keep his head cool if he was going to protect Rosa.

Suddenly, gunshots rent the air, and his heart stopped.

The ringing in his ear from the previous shot made it hard to determine where the echoing gunshots came from, but he made his best guess and stormed up to the second floor. His mouth was dry, breathing heavy, gut twisted tight enough to make him throw up, and heart pounding painfully in his chest as his mind screamed one thought over and over and over.

Find Rosa.

Part of him wanted to call out for her. Part of him worried that would blow her cover if she responded. He had no idea what was happening or what situation she was in and didn’t want to risk throwing her in danger.

But right before he decided to throw caution to the wind, he caught sight of her backing out down a hallway with her gun aimed into a different room.

“Rosa!”

She swung around, aiming the gun in his direction, and he quickly threw his hands up. Almost as quickly, she put her gun down before swinging the barrel back in the direction she had been pointing.

“Coming behind,” he called out, quickly shuffling up behind her, his own gun aimed where she was pointing. Which was at a man lying limply on the floor.

“Cover my back,” he said automatically before it clicked Rosa had no clue what that meant.

And yet, she did, flipping around to aim her gun down the hallway he’d just come from in cover.

Luke approached the unconscious man, gun drawn and ready to shoot. But the red stains that bloomed out of the man's chest told Luke that he wasn’t getting up anytime soon.

After kicking the gun away, Luke knelt down and pressed his fingers against the guy’s neck.

Dead.

“Rosa, we’re getting out of here,” Luke said, quickly turning back to her. "Stay behind me.”

“Roger.”

Getting out of the building was easier than getting in. Rosa kept up with him shockingly well as he hustled out as quickly and safely as he could. And once they were out, Luke instructed her to put her gun away as they made their way back into the crowd of people just as emergency personnel started pulling up.

“Aaron, Rosa’s secured. Where are you?” Luke asked, trying to be subtle about talking into his earpiece. Behind him, Rosa slipped her hand into his, squeezing it tight. Just touching her was enough to settle his frantic mind. She was safe. She was safe. Scared, clearly, considering the way she was clinging to him. But he could deal with that.

“In the car," Aaron said over the earpiece. "Back entrance. Guy’s shoved in the trunk.”

“Copy. We’ll make our way over.”

In the hustle and bustle, Luke doubted anyone caught him and Rosa slipping off.

“NSB is on the way,” Aaron explained over the earpiece as they retreated to the car. “They’ll want a full mission briefing.”

“Understood.”

The car soon rolled into view, coming to a stop right by them. Luke opened the door for Rosa, placing his hand on her side to guide her into the back. She suddenly hissed, flinching at his touch, causing a new wave of adrenaline to course through Luke’s system. He pulled his hand away, only to catch a shimmer of red on his fingertips.

Blood.

Instantly, Luke was in medic mode, spinning Rosa towards him so as to assess her injury. Her side had been ripped open, likely grazed by a bullet.

“Oh,” she muttered, looking down and realizing as though for the first time that she had been injured.

Luke couldn’t fault her. He knew firsthand that when adrenaline floods a body, pain is sometimes unnoticeable. He knew that, yet his panic was taking over. “Hospital, now.”

…

It had been thirty-six hours since the explosion. In that time, Luke and Aaron had rushed Rosa to the nearest hospital. She’d passed out during that time, and Luke had been in hysterics. She couldn't die. She couldn't. Aaron had yelled at him to keep it together, but that was easier said than done.

When they’d arrived, Aaron had insisted on taking her in, forcing the massively panicked Luke to take the guy that was still in the trunk—whom Luke had nearly forgotten about—to the NSB for questioning.

Luke had done so, adrenaline revving through his body like a drug and keeping him hyper-focused.

But with adrenaline rushes must come an adrenaline crash. Which happened after he had offloaded his target, downloaded all information he knew to his team, and been informed by Aaron that Rosa was totally fine and the injury was not that critical.

By morning, Invincible Agent Pearce had been completely passed out on the floor in a quiet hallway.

Rosa had soon been pulled in for questioning, too. Her injury had only required disinfecting and stitches, so she’d been sent home within a few hours. Soon enough, her side of the story came into full view. There had been two men that she’d found suspicious. She’d ended up tailing them, eventually having heard enough about a targeted assassination to decide to “accidentally” pull a fire alarm.

She’d been caught, then proceeded to act tipsy and flirty in an attempt to get them to forget that ever happened. She thought they had bought it, and she’d been able to get out of there quickly. That’s when the explosion happened. However, when trying to herd people out of the building, she’d caught sight of the host’s wife being dragged off by one of the men.

That’s when the explosion happened.

Everything after that had been a blur to her. Clearly, that’s when her adrenaline high had fully kicked in. She’d tailed the kidnapper, and when the man had pulled a gun to point at the hostess’ head, Rosa had pulled hers, only for a shootout to happen. Rosa had, thankfully, been the better shot. And that was likely only because the gun that had been picked up from the scene, the kidnapper's gun, had been jammed upon immediate inspection. He’d only gotten off a couple of rounds himself, or Rosa could have wound up dead.

Currently, Luke was on his way up to Rosa’s apartment with a file in hand. One dictating a new assignment for them.

He knocked on the door, and it took her a moment to answer. She still looked like death warmed over, her eyes lacking the light he loved so much and her complexion pale. “Hey.”

“Hey,” she robotically responded, already letting him in.

Wordlessly, he entered, and she shut the door behind him.

“How are you holding up?”

“No better; no worse.”

His heart broke. This was exactly why he didn’t want Rosa there. Aaron was another thing; he’d seen war and had been a doctor for years. So while Luke cared about him enough to not want the man to get caught up in trouble, Rosa was different. She was a civilian, innocent and naïve to all this. And he’d desperately wanted her to stay that way despite her determination to worry him to death.

He should have been better prepared to protect her. Considering how she’d been adamant about joining the NXX, he realized she had already prepared herself to face situations like this. And while she'd always hoped she wouldn't have to face those situations, she had been fully prepared for them.

Luke hated that.

“What brings you by?” she finally asked. “Just to check in on me?”

“Well, yes and no,” Luke admitted before holding up the fire folder. “We’re being sent out of the country.”

Rosa blinked. Once, twice, three times in rapid succession. “We’re what?”

“Yeah,” Luke said, handing the file over to her. “We’ve both been deemed compromised and therefore are being sent out of the country to Svart. The NSB has officially informed your boss of the situation, so you don’t have a choice.”

“Great,” Rosa sighed, not happy about it in the slightest.

He understood her frustration. He wasn’t too happy about it, either. He desperately wanted to be at the forefront of this mission, hunting down the person who had broken his Rosa like this. But his boss had kicked him off the team, stating Luke was too emotionally compromised to complete this task efficiently. However, instead of looking mad about it, the man had almost looked amused. Aaron had told Luke later that the thought of the fierce Agent Pearce actually having a weakness made him seem more human instead of a super machine.

Luke was almost insulted by that.

As for Rosa, it was standard procedure to kick anyone off a team if they’d had to take a life. It was not an easy task and tended to leave the agent mentally and emotionally unstable. So they’d be put on administrative leave for a few days, at least.

But then there was a fact Luke couldn’t argue with: one man had seen both Rosa and Luke’s faces and had slipped away. Meaning Luke and Rosa were now no longer safe until this man was caught.

Meaning, they were to be sent out of the country for their safety.

And while Luke explained all that to her, she still wasn’t happy about it.

“I'm doing this only because I have to,” she relented, leaning back against the couch they had moved to during their conversation.

“Hey, I’m not a fan of it, either,” Luke said. “But we don’t have much of a choice.”

“I know,” she said with a sigh, her eyes closing tiredly.

Not for the first time today, Luke’s heart broke further at seeing her like this. With his socked foot, he lightly kicked at her shin. “Hey. You sure you’re okay? It’s okay to not be. Not even trained agents are after going through what you did.”

For a moment, Luke thought she was going to clam up. Instead, he watched as a storm slowly settled over her features. “Honestly… I don’t even remember what happened anymore. It was a blur. I can’t remember the guy’s face at all. I ended up talking with Vyn, and he said that considering I went through severe trauma, what I’m feeling is normal. He said he wanted to start psychological therapy as soon as possible.”

No matter what Luke thought of the guy, he sure appreciated the man now. “I think that’s a good idea,” he said.

A silence slowly fell between them, Luke unsure of what else he could say.

Rosa broke the stillness of the room but not the silence. The most sound she made was the slight rustling as she shifted across the couch closer to him. Instantly, Luke took her in his arms and just held her. He was only careful of her stitches after she hissed.

"Sorry," he muttered, heart breaking yet again as he shifted his hold so as to not touch her injury.

But at her first sniffle, he forgot all of that as he pulled her fully into his lap and held her tightly.

“It’s different,” she whispered, her voice already warbling with tears as she tightly clung to him, hands grabbing fistfuls of his jacket.

“What is?”

She took a breath. “I’ve trained for one year,” she managed to get out. “With target practice, learning how to clear a house, training my reflexes...”

She buried her face into his shoulder. “But I never thought I’d actually have to shoot someone. Training doesn’t prepare you for it.”

“As an agent, I can attest to that,” he quietly assured. “And it doesn’t get easier. If it gets easier, it means you’re messed up in the head. And if it gets harder, it means you’re messed up, too.”

“It sucks.”

“I know.”

And so, they lingered there, Rosa curled up against Luke’s chest, wrapped up in his arms as he soothed her to the best of his ability.

She really was his weakness, because his heart was shattered at seeing her like this: scarred for life while defending the lives of innocents. He hated she had been put in a position where she had to draw her gun at all. And he hated himself even more for having forced her into that position in the first place. He should have never asked. He could have protected her better.

Instead, he failed, and her innocence shattered. All because of him.

All because of him…

He might as well have been the one to pull the trigger because his heart and head were messed up all the same. Actually, this might have been worse, because he knew what it was like to take a life, but knowing Rosa had to bear the weight of that guilt… that was his fault.

And he’d regret that for the rest of his life.

[doctorstethoscope]

The Right Chapter Nine || Aaron Hotchner x Fem Reader

Hello and happy Tuesday besties! ICYMI, I posted a bit of smutty goodness for all of you 18+ folks here. If you’d like to be added to my general Hotch fic taglist please let me know! 

Read previous chapters of this fic here! 

contains: canon-typical discussion of violence, food mention, therapy, cuddling. 

wc: 2k

When you woke up the next morning, there were flowers in a vase on your bedside table. You’re smiling before you’ve even wiped the sleep away from your eyes, grabbing the sticky note that was stuck to the vase. 

“Would’ve sent these to your desk, but figured that wouldn’t go unnoticed by a team of behavior experts. Hope they made you smile anyways. -AH

An expert on behavior and he was only hoping that he could make you smile, you laughed to yourself, rolling out of bed and finding Aaron in the kitchen with a mug of coffee, packing Jack’s lunch. 

“When did you find the time to do that, Hotchner? Don’t you ever sleep?” You asked, and he looked up at you, breaking out in a smile. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” He shrugs, looking back down to his carrot slices as you cross the kitchen in pursuit of a cup of coffee. He places the knife down and tugs you closer to him by the palm of your hand so he can drop a kiss to the top of your head. It makes you feel warm all over. You hear the insistent smacking of small feet on hardwood and step away from Aaron in an instant, not wanting to be caught by Jack. 

“Morning bud,” Aaron calls across the kitchen. Jack responds with a yawn, which makes you giggle. He smiles at you. 

“Are you gonna have to go catch bad guys again?” He asks. “I missed you and dad.” 

“Oh little man, we missed you too! We probably won’t get called away today but I can’t say for sure. If dad and I come home tonight, do you want to have a special movie night so we can all spend some time together?” 

Jack nods ferociously, and practically starts buzzing with excitement. “Can we watch monsters inc?” 

“Oh, that’s one of my favorites!” 

“Dad?” Jack looked to his father for confirmation. 

“Of course, bud. But you’d better eat all of these carrots I’m packing in your lunch if you want a treat.” Aaron smiled at Jack, who agreed easily. “Come on, we don’t want to miss the bus.” He said, ushering Jack out the door with a Danimals and an orange while you finished getting ready. You were struck for a moment by how easily you had slid into the Hotchner boys’ morning routines, and you realized that you would miss it once you found your own place. But it was for the best-- you hoped that you and Aaron would be serious enough to consider living together, but you didn’t want to force it too early in the relationship and cause problems. 

When Aaron comes back, you’re dressed and ready to head off to work. He grabs his briefcase and suit jacket off of one of the chairs at the kitchen table. 

“D’you eat?” He asked as he pulled his jacket over his arms.

“I had coffee. I’m not a big breakfast person.” You tell him, surprised that he hasn’t already noticed this about you.

“Grab a fruit.” He tells you. 

“Did you eat?’ You ask him, and the tips of his ears turn pink. “Yeah, that’s what I thought, Hotchner. Why don’t you grab a fruit.” You teased, tossing him an orange from the bowl and tucking a banana into your purse as you stepped out the door, with Aaron locking up behind you. He wrapped his free arm around your waist as the two of you walked to the car.

“I have something to tell you, and you’re going to be mad at me.” Aaron confesses about halfway through your drive to work. 

“Ah, so that’s what the flowers were about.” You said facetiously. 

“No, the flowers were from your boyfriend, this news is from your boss.” He clarifies. 

“Oh?” You asked, needing him to explain more. 

“You’ve got a psych eval this morning.” He confesses and you groan. 

“Ugh, Hotch, really?” 

“Even if we could ignore what happened with Josh-- which, for the record, you shouldn’t-- you were held hostage by an unsub.”

“For like, twenty minutes!” You interrupted him. 

“It’s bureau policy, dear. There’s nothing I can do about it.” 

“And you can’t just say that you gave me the psych eval and I passed?” 

“No,” he tells you, sighing. “For us to be together, we need to keep everything above board. Hopefully no one starts on a warpath when we decide we’re ready to share this, but if they do, I don’t want to give them any reason to undermine your professional credibility by arguing I gave you special treatment.” 

You’re a little bit stunned by Aaron’s use of “when” rather than “if.” It’s not in a bad way, of course-- it’s actually, really, really good, to hear that he’s just as in it as you are, even if you hadn’t expressed it very well yet. The idea that he’s already thinking about the future-- even if it is your professional future, not exactly a white-picket-fence kind of future-- gives you butterflies. You realize you’ve waited too long to respond when Aaron speaks up again. 

“I understand if that’s a lot for you to take on, or if that makes you rethink things. I wouldn’t hold it against you if you decided this wasn’t worth the potential professional issues.” He adds nervously, clearing his throat. You reach over and put a hand on his thigh. 

“I think you’re worth the risk,” you smile at him, and watch him release a breath he didn’t know he was holding. 

 “Thanks for coming in,” Laura, one of the FBI’s resident psychologists said as you settled into the couch in her office. You err on the side of politeness and decide not to point out that you didn’t really have a choice. 

“Not a problem,” you smiled at her. 

“So how are you feeling?” She asked. 

“I’m good. I’m happy to be back at work, and to get my field clearance back. I’ve missed it.” You tell her.

“That’s right, you’d been removed from the field for a head injury.” She said, peering over your file. “Service related?” 

“No, I fell down a flight of stairs,” you lied, hoping she couldn’t read you as easily as Aaron could. 

“Hmm, so you travelled with the team even though you weren’t cleared for field work?” She asks, and you’re pretty sure you’re not imagining the judgement in her tone. 

“I didn’t go into the field. I stayed at the police station, in compliance to orders from my doctor and from Chief Hotchner. Unfortunately, the field came to me,” you attempted to make a joke. She didn’t laugh. 

“Was it not possible for your duties to be completed from Quantico?” 

“No, it wasn’t. The behavioral analysis unit works as a team-- we’re able to determine profiles as successfully as we do because we collaborate. My efforts, and the work of my team, would have been severely hindered if I had stayed behind.” You answer mechanically, trying, and most likely failing, to not sound defensive. “I fail to see how that’s relevant to my experience with Alec Gordon.” 

“I’m just trying to determine if you’re engaging in a pattern of self-endangering or careless behavior.” Laura answers honestly.

“I can assure you that my attitude regarding my work and the work of my team is anything but careless.” You bite back.

“You came back to work very quickly after your concussion.” She says, and it’s not a question, so you don’t take the bait. “Any particular reason for that?” 

“I felt ready to return, and Chief Hotchner was willing to accommodate my need to work partial days until I was fully recovered, so on the advice of my physician I returned to work on a modified schedule.” 

“Agent, I don’t need to tell you that withholding information in our session or on the forms you filled out prior to our appointment today, will only hurt you.” 

“With all due respect, I haven’t withheld anything and I resent the implication.” 

“Very well, agent. I will have a complete evaluation sent to your supervisor by the end of the business day.” 

“Thank you for your time,” you smiled, trying to make it look real. 

“The door is always open, agent.” 

“So, you kind of beat me to the punch this morning,” Aaron tells you as you’re walking out of the office together. 

“What are you talking about?” You asked.

“Well, the flowers were a part of my master plan to get you to agree to come to dinner with me tonight, but it seems you’ve made other arrangements with my son.” He smirks at you as you both climb into his SUV. 

“I guess now you know where you stand in the ranking of Hotchner boys.” You tease him. 

“It won’t get me ahead of Jack, I know, but will you let me take you out to dinner tomorrow night?” 

“Aaron,” you laughed. “You don’t need to take me out to dinner.” 

“Yes, I do.” He tells you.

“We already live together. You’re going to have dinner with me regardless of whether or not we eat it at a restaurant.” You tell him, gesturing to his place as he parked the car.

“Maybe so, but you’ve already decided that we won’t be living together much longer. I care about you, and I want to spend time with you, and I’d like to take you out to dinner.” He said, shifting to face you now that the car was stopped.

You rolled your eyes fondly, feeling yourself blush. “I’ll allow it.” 

“God, it’s like pulling teeth,” Aaron muttered sarcastically, breaking out into a grin as you laughed.

You both got out of the car and headed inside, where Jess and Jack were working on a puzzle at the kitchen table. 

“Dad!” Jack says, looking up to see his father and abandoning the puzzle, launching himself into his father’s arms. 

“Hey, buddy. Did you have a good day?”

“Yes, and I ate all my carrots so that I could have a special treat while we watch Monsters Inc.” 

“He’s been waiting to tell you that all afternoon,” Jess laughed, standing up from the table and crossing to you to give you a hug. When Haley died, you and Jess got a lot closer, through Jack. “It’s good to see you,” she says as she squeezes you. 

“You too.” You smile. “I’ve got to go change into my special movie night clothes,” you smirked, leaving Jess, Jack and Aaron in the kitchen.

“Jack, why don’t you go put on your pajamas, and we’ll start the movie in a little bit?” Aaron suggested, and Jack scampered off towards his room. 

“Do you plan on ever telling that girl how you feel about her, or are you just going to look at her like she hung the stars in the sky for the rest of your life?” Jess asks Aaron bluntly. 

“I can’t possibly be that obvious.” 

“Aren’t you literally a behavior expert?” 

“It’s being handled, Jess.” He assures her with a quick grin as you emerge from your room in soft flannel pants and a tank top. 

“Do you want to stay, Jess? We’re just gonna order a pizza and veg out.” 

“I wish I could. But you kids have fun.” She said, looking between you and Aaron. Jack comes running out of his room to give his aunt a kiss goodbye and you all settle on the couch. 

Jack inserts himself in the middle of you and Aaron on the couch, a slice of pizza on a paper plate in front of him with the promise of ice cream later on. Aaron’s arm rests across the back of the sofa and his hand plays gently with the hair at the nape of your neck. You tilt your head in his direction, pulling Jack into your lap so you can scoot closer as the movie plays on. Jack falls asleep before you can even get him his ice cream, and you take the opportunity to rest your head on Aaron’s shoulder, his arm wrapping around your shoulder and tracing comforting patterns into the skin of your upper arms until the credits roll.

[honeypiehotchner]

intelligence & issues (Hotch x Fem!Reader) -- chapter twenty-two

I’m liking this two updates a week schedule because I hate leaving you guys hanging like that!! I hope this chapter makes it all better xx.

Oh btw the title of this chapter and last chapter are lyrics from “Hold On” by Chord Overstreet! (Also I know the gif is irrelevant but the ~emotion~ of it is relevant)

ALSO (wow I have a lot I keep forgetting to add) I meant to @ her last chapter, but all of these medical scenes and things were 100% done with the help of @thedumpsterqueen​ because I know next to nothing about all this stuff and she was an angel and let me ask all the crazy questions <333 (P.S. she has a Hotch fic called Standards of Performance on her blog that you guys should alllll read if you haven’t already!! It’s SO good it’s one of my favorites)

Warnings: angst and sadness, but that’s pretty much it

Previous chapter || Fic Masterlist

Chapter Twenty-Two: I can’t imagine a world with you gone

Everything is a blur in Hotch’s mind before and after the first gunshot rings through the air. He didn’t need to hear the buzzing in his ear to know it had hit you.

He took off at a sprint, as did the rest of the team.

His ears are ringing. His thoughts are racing. He’s never been a man who talks frequently to God, but he’s praying. Hoping you’re alive. Begging you to not be dead.

Aaron would never forgive himself if you died. As it stands, though, he won’t ever forgive himself for this.

Prentiss, Reid, and Rossi take off in one direction. Hotch and Morgan take the other. Police officers fill the gaps and follow behind, everyone searching for you and Savannah.

Morgan is the first to stumble on the room. His throat aches when he screams for Hotch, keeping his weapon aimed at Savannah.

“Put the gun down!” Morgan yells.

Hotch comes skidding to a stop in the doorway a second later, weapon raised, but his eyes are focused on you. Savannah’s boot is pressing into your thigh, blood oozing from your wound, soaking your pants, spilling onto the concrete. Hotch’s heart drops at the sight. He’s seen enough bullet wounds to know how much blood should come from them. That is too much.

The bullet must’ve hit the major artery. And the thought terrifies him.

Morgan takes the shot when Savannah refuses to move. It hits her stomach and she stumbles for a moment before falling. Morgan yells for the paramedics again, distantly thinking they should be in here by now.

Hotch falls to the ground beside you, his hands cupping your face, not caring who sees. His thumbs tap your cheeks, willing you to open your eyes. You have a pulse, but it’s weak. Weaker than what it should be.

He presses hard over your wound, hoping to slow the bleeding, but there’s more surrounding your leg than he wants to see.

“Y/N?” He says, his eyes watching your eyelids for any movement. He lets out a momentary sigh of relief when your eyes open. “Y/N, please, can you hear me?”

You stare back at him, no signs of his words registering in your eyes. They’re empty. Haunted, again, but for a different reason this time. This time it’s different. “Aaron…”

“I’m here,” Hotch says gently, pressing his hand harder, his heart breaking when you groan in pain. “I know,” he says, shushing you.

Your eyes travel around the room then, and Aaron follows. Morgan is pressing his hand over Savannah’s wound, speaking into his wrist, asking the others where the hell the paramedics are at.

But Aaron doesn’t want you to see that, so he cups your jaw again, turning your eyes back on him. He smiles as best he can, the tears beginning to spill from his eyes as he takes in your face.

“There’s my girl,” he says softly. “Keep holding on. They’re almost here.”

“Aaron,” you try to say, your voice low and strained, and Aaron shakes his head, trying to get you to stop talking. “Aaron...I don’t wanna go without-- I need to tell you that I--”

“Shhh,” he tries again, not wanting you to waste any energy. “You don’t need to.”

“I love you,” you finally get it out. And he’s stunned to complete silence and tears. “I love you so...so much. It hurts.”

“Y/N,” he says, panicked. Your eyes are closing. “Y/N! Come back, Y/N, come back to me. Y/N. Y/N, please.”

Hotch is too caught up in holding your face and keeping pressure on your wound to notice the paramedics have arrived. One team goes to Savannah, relieving Morgan, while the other comes to you, trying to usher Hotch away, but he doesn’t budge.  

“Hotch,” Morgan tugs on the unit chief, grabbing at his arms, his heart breaking for the both of you. “Hotch, you need to let them get to her.”

Reluctantly, Hotch backs up, clenching his bloodied fist, grimacing at the way your blood sticks his skin together.

Everything else is a blur.

What does it need to be clear for, anyway? If you’re not here?

+++

You’re still in surgery.

It’s been an hour. But it feels longer. It feels like it’s been an entire twenty-four hours.

The entire team has taken up camp in a waiting room at the hospital.

Reid is reading and rereading every magazine he can get his hands on to distract himself, never mind the fact that he reads them so fast that he rips a page on one from turning it so quickly. Morgan has Garcia on the phone and has left to get coffee at least three times, the first time returning with a tray of steaming cups and the next two times returning with only one, but two tearful eyes. Emily has been pacing and will wear a hole into the tile at this rate if she walks for another hour. JJ has been staring at the wall, chewing so hard on the inside of her cheek that she flinches when she draws blood.

Rossi has been staring at the wall, too, but mostly he’s been worrying about and watching Hotch.

Aaron has been biting his nails, tugging at his hair, angrily wiping away tears, and left once to go on a walk before returning two minutes later, asking if they had heard anything. Those two minutes had felt like two hours and he was worried sick for all 120 seconds that he missed something.

Dave hasn’t tried to say anything to Aaron, though he wants to. It’s heartbreaking to watch Aaron like this.

You’re going to pull through. Dave — and the rest of the team — can’t afford to think otherwise. And they refuse to think otherwise, unable to imagine what it would be like if you weren’t here.

But it seems like Aaron is thinking otherwise.

Truthfully, he is. But he’s thinking about so much more.

You love him. You love him. You love him.

And he was too stunned to say it back. The one chance he had, and it might be gone now. Ripped away. Forever.

He sent you in there. He did this to you. He had his reservations, but the call had already been made. You seemed so sure. You wanted to do this so badly. He didn’t want another fight about him not trusting you because it’s not about his trust for you, it’s about how terrified he was for you.

He’ll never forgive himself for this now. Not ever.

It’s a world he can’t even bear to imagine. One without you in it.

Yet here he is, grappling with the fact that he might not have to imagine it soon. He sent you in there. He knowingly put your life in danger. And now he’ll have to live with the consequences.

+++

Aaron is shaken from his trance by the doctor and a nurse coming in to inform the team that you’re out of surgery and that it went well.

But you’re in the ICU.

“She lost a great deal of blood,” the doctor says gravely. “But we think she’ll pull through. She just needs to be watched closely for the time being.”

Everyone nods silently, not sure of what else to say, other than feeling relief that you’re alive.

“Visiting hours are long over, so I recommend you all get some rest,” the nurse says. “She’s in good hands here.”

“Thank you,” Rossi replies.

The doctor excused himself, but the nurse stayed, offering to answer any extra questions. “Visiting hours start at seven a.m.,” she says first. “And in the ICU, only two visitors are allowed in her room at a time.” She doesn’t voice an apology, but one is in her tone as she glances between the six team members.

“Can I stay?” Hotch blurts out of nowhere. The team member’s heads all turn to look at him in surprise. “Can anyone stay the night, I mean.”

“Uh, yeah,” the nurse nods. “One person can.” Her eyebrows furrow sincerely. “Are you her dad?”

Morgan internalizes a snort.

“No,” Hotch replies kindly. “I’m not, but I’d like to stay. I’m her boss.”

Still the nurse looks skeptical. “Would she be okay with—”

“She’s his girlfriend,” Emily blurts out, tired of waiting. And when Hotch sends her a look, she says, “What? It would’ve taken you hours to say it.”

“Oh,” the nurse chuckles, embarrassed. “I’m so sorry. Yes, of course you can stay.”

Hotch lets a tiny smile shine through, but it’s not much. Truth is, he’s terrified to see you. But leaving you here alone – even if this is a hospital – terrifies him more.

The rest of the team says goodbye to head back to the hotel for some much-needed rest, if they can sleep at all. They know they’ll wake every couple hours to worry about you before sleep consumes them once more.

In the meantime, Hotch will be here to look after you for all of them. You’re like a little sister to the rest of them, even though Morgan is the only one to have voiced that. You’re loved here. Loved more than you’ll ever be able to comprehend.

You’re loved by Aaron much more than he’ll ever be able to articulate to you. But he’ll try. He’ll try to help you see.

+++

Hotch is finally walking to your room in the ICU after another half hour of waiting. The nurse said they had to get everything settled in your room before he could come back, which only made Hotch’s worry spike even more.

But eventually, he’s in your room with you. A pillow and blanket is in the chair by the window, but he’s not paying attention to it.

You. You’re asleep, of course, and probably will be for a few more hours. The nurse said you had already woken up once, but because of the pain medicine and the overall stress your body has been under in the past few hours, you fell back to sleep almost instantly.

Tears well in his eyes at the sight of you, laid up in the hospital bed, IVs and wires all over you. The beeping of the heart monitor is the only real sign to him that you’re even alive. Your chest is rising and falling, but it’s barely visible underneath the gown and blankets and wires.

You have one regular IV placed on the top of your left hand. Some other line is in your upper arm, and another in your wrist. He has no idea what they’re all for, he just knows he hates seeing you connected to so much.

Aaron wipes at his eyes angrily. Does he have a right to be this upset when he’s the one who sent you in there?

He turns and sets the pillow and blankets in the other chair, knowing he won’t sleep tonight even if he wanted to. Instead, he pulls the chair closer to your bed, where he can place his hand next to yours.

And, if you happen to wake up, you can reach for him if you need to.

+++

Three hours pass and you still haven’t woken up. Aaron knows. He’s been watching you the entire time.

The nurses have come to check on you a few times, assuring Aaron that it’s normal for you to be sleeping like this. But he just nods silently.

He wants you to wake up. Just for a minute. He needs you to just open your eyes and look at him, just once. That’s all he needs.

But it’s wishful thinking as the sky begins to lighten, showing the first signs of dawn.

Aaron links his pinky with yours, afraid to do much else and risk messing up your IV. Holding pinky fingers is enough right now. Or at least, it’ll have to be.

“I’m sorry,” he says out loud, to you, or really to no one at all, because he’s not even sure you can hear him. “I’m just so...sorry, Y/N.”

Stupid tears gather in his eyes again, clogging his throat, stopping his words.

But he keeps going.

“It’s my fault,” he says. “And I know you’ll try to convince me that it’s not, but Y/N, it is and I’m so sorry. I can’t believe I let this happen to you.”

He leans his head into the palm of his free hand, tightening his pinky finger’s grip on yours.

“I love you,” he blurts it out, tears warming his palm as they cascade down his cheeks. “I love you and I need you to wake up because I need you to hear it. I love you. I don’t think there’s ever been a day that I’ve known you that I haven’t loved you.”

He sniffles, loud and body-rattling, glad he’s alone in this room with you because he’d never let anyone else see him like this. No one but you.

“I tried to get it out before, but you were already gone, and I— You need to wake up. I need you to wake up. Please.”

Aaron keeps his eyes closed and head down for a few minutes longer. He doesn’t even see that you’ve opened your eyes.

Until your pinky finger gently squeezes his.

He lifts his head quickly, eyes wide and wild when he sees you’re looking back at him, eyes glassy with tears and exhaustion.

And just like that, just seeing your eyes open and looking right at him, the dam breaks once more. He’s a mess of tears when he leans his head down onto the bed. You lift your hand and thread your fingers through his hair, closing your eyes as more tears slip down your cheeks.

You scratch a soothing pattern on the base of his skull, moving your other hand over your body to hold onto his arm. He senses the movement and lifts his head, grabbing your hand and pressing it to his lips.

He’s not sure how long he stays there, all he knows is his back aches when he straightens up again, and you’ve fallen back asleep.

Next chapter

[cloudlessly-light]

Ok…why does 103 scream Hotchniss 🤣

Because it just does!!

Nr 103. “We’ve been at it like rabbits, how are you still horny?!”

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Smut, smut oh and smut, oral

Emily fell back against the bed she now shared with Aaron in their new house. She was naked, sweaty and panting, her body exhausted after the fuck-a-thon they’d just had.

“That was amazing.” She exclaimed breathlessly as Aaron got comfortable beside her, he was panting as hard as she was.

“That was more than amazing.” He grinned as he rolled onto his side and pulled her towards him.

They had bought their first home together and moved in the day before, there was boxes everywhere, almost all of their belongings still unpacked except the bigger furniture. Emily found that every time she started to unpack a box, Aaron’s hands were on her body, his lips finding every inch of skin available to him.

“I can’t help it, you’re my new sexy roomie.” He joked as she gently pushed him away with a smile.

“Ugh I’m your fiancé, don’t bump me down to roomie.” She joked as he pulled her close again, the box now forgotten.

They ended up christening every room of the entire house in less than twenty-four hours and now, as they had finished of the last room, their bedroom, Emily was swollen and sore but it didn’t seem to deter Aaron.

He kissed her neck, down her shoulder and then up to her lips, his happy smile caused by the fact that they had finally moved in together never leaving his own lips.

“Come on,” He grabbed her hand “let’s shower and then we can finish unpacking the kitchen.”

Emily begrudgingly followed him into the bathroom, she had been more than content to spend some more time relaxing in bed, but Aaron’s insistent tugging made her move with him.

It took less than five minutes of standing under the hot water before his hands started to wander, easily slipping from her shoulders to her breasts as he took in the bites and hickeys he had left on them. He tugged a nipple before spinning her around and let her back rest against his chest as he continued to run his hands along his body.

“Aaron…” She whispered as she felt his hardness against the small of her back, a low hum leaving her lips as he pulled her closer by a hold of her hips.

“Yes darling?” He mumbled against her shoulder, his hips pushing against her as he sought out some friction. He didn’t know why, but it seemed like the moment they officially moved in together something primal was set of in him and he couldn’t get enough of her.

“We’ve been at it like rabbits, how are you still horny?!” She laughed, but the sound got stuck in her throat as he pushed her forward. She leaned her hands against the tiled wall as Aaron’s hands stroked along her spine and hip.

“Because, you’re delicious and you’re all mine.” Came his low voice from behind her and then without warning his warm tongue pushed into her from behind.

“Fuck…” She closed her eyes as she felt his skillful tongue on her clit then pushing inside of her. She was over stimulated and swollen, but Aaron knew her body better than anyone and knew exactly how much she could take. When he latched on to her clit again, Emily could feel her knees buckling, not strong enough to keep her upright but he caught her easily.

“Turn around.” He growled and the sound caused a surge of arousal inside of her. She turned to face him on shaky legs and when she did her breath hitched at the dark desire reflected on her fiancés face.

With strength she didn’t know he had, he easily picked her up and pressed her against the wall, the water from the shower creating wet friction between them.

“You’re insatiable.” She grinned as she wrapped her arms around his neck and legs circled his hips. She felt him press her harder against the wall and then he pushed inside of her causing her to gasp loudly.

“So are you.” He smirked as he started to move against her.

It was true, Emily wanted him just as much as he wanted her, a proven fact that even now when she was sore and tired, she found herself moaning and clutching to him with each thrust, urging him on.

When she came she bit down on his shoulder, making her own mark on his body and only moments later Aaron grunted out her name as he felt his own orgasm rock his body. As he let her down he kept his arm around her, steadying her as she leaned into him.

“Can I bend you over the kitchen counter later?” He mumbled against her ear, causing Emily let out a breathless laugh as she shook her head in disbelief.

[hotchnerundercover]

  Catch me: Part I

                        ❝ We have a problem ❞

aaron hotchner x bau!fem!reader 

summary: The BAU is called onto a routine case where they must profile an unsub who’s amassed upwards of twenty bodies in three states within a five month period. They quickly find themselves in peril when they discover that their unsub is a former agent.

words: 980

warnings: (one) sexual innuendo, murder and cremation, I think that’s it lmk if I missed anything. 

the information sheet 

A/N: literally got so excited to post I didn't even proof read it shshs 

Hotchner Household, 4:49pm 

“Hotchner,” he spoke into the phone. 

“We have a problem,” Spencer’s tone was laced with concern and urgency on the other end. 

Hotch paused for elaboration, his brows furrowing. 

“Five women were just killed in Alaska.” If the story had stopped there perhaps the team could’ve been to Alaska and back in under a week. “The M.O. is consistent with six murders in Florida, and three before that in California.”  

 “I’ll let the rest of the team know.” As he hung up the phone, his gaze fell to his son on the couch beside him. The kid’s eyes met his, familiar with the look his father wore. 

“I know Daddy. Someone needs you.” A melancholic smile formed on his face. 

Jessica was over not five minutes later.

“Will you give Y/N a hug for me?” Jack spoke softly, as he bid adieu to his father. 

“Of course buddy.”

Lush Nail Spa, 4:55 pm 

It wasn’t often Y/N spent a day off without her best friend Aaron Hotchner and his son Jack, but today she found herself in the company of other BAU women.  

  “So, are you going to tell us what happened between you and Hotch?” Emily inquired, once a semi-appropriate amount of time had passed. 

“Emily!” JJ scolded. 

The voices of her other friends were drowned out by the blood rushing to her cheeks and the poignant memory daring to resurface. “What do you mean?” Y/N gulped and plastered a faux smile on her face. 

Emily quirked her head in immediate doubt. 

She knew she couldn't keep something so simultaneously daunting and stupendous from everyone she regarded so closely, but the words couldn't quite find their way to her lips.  

Puzzles Bar, 8:40 pm - two weeks prior

He sat alone, nursing an almost empty glass of whiskey when she spotted him from the entrance. A mischievous smile played on her lips as she plotted her greeting. 

She ran and snuck up behind him, her hands on his waist ready to tickle him. She brought her lips down to his ear, “Good evening agent Hotchner.” Lowering her voice to imitate a higher-up. 

His previously taut expression softened into a smile, then a chuckle as he moved to turn and face her; the tickles ceasing. 

“I’m never gonna get tired of that,” she remarked. 

His eyes met hers, standing in such awe he almost hadn’t heard her. 

She was clad in a little black dress, skin tight, he noted immediately. He decided against hugging her as a greeting, feeling his pants tighten at the continued sight of her.  

What he didn’t know, is that she could tell and her breath hitched at the mere thought. Immediately trying to change the subject, she turned to a woman a few stools down. 

“She’s cute, looks like your type.” 

His lips pulled into a frown. 

“What? Do you not think she’s cute?” Y/N asked. 

“No, she’s fine, it's not that.”

Y/N’s face softened, thinking she knew what this was about. “I know you’re worried about dating after Haley, but Hotch it’s been two years. She’d want you to move on and find some happiness. And Jack and I agree.” 

He was thrown off by the mention of his son, but his heart warmed thinking about how close Y/N and him had gotten over the past few years. It just thrust him further over the edge, falling helplessly for the woman before him. 

“It’s not that Y/N,” he began.

She gulped, it hurt her more than he’d ever know trying to help him move on from Haley. But she loved him, and that came before any growing feelings she had for him. 

The buzzing moved from his fingertips to his chest, his heart. He wasn't sure he could spend another minute concealing the way she made him feel. 

“She’s- she’s not the person I want to be with…”  

She was jostled away from replaying the memory by the ring of JJ’s phone. 

JJ quirked an eyebrow. 

“I swear to god,” Emily started.

They loomed until JJ announced, “And it’s Hotch.”

They all groaned in response. 

“Hello. Yeah. We’ll be right there.”

“I have half a foot painted!” Emily exclaimed.

JJ shrugged her shoulders, “We gotta go.”

Behavioral Analysis Unit, Quantico 5:15pm 

Hotch, Reid, Morgan, and Rossi were already sat around the table when the women entered. 

“You’re on my list, Hotchner,” Emily cautioned, pointing at him. 

The rest of the team snickered, but Hotch’s stoic gaze loomed at the door. His lips pulled into a smile, mindlessly, when she approached. 

His eyes meeting hers sent butterflies through her. She bit back a smile, the warmth threatening to spread to her cheeks. Knowing his effect on her was akin to her’s on him sent a sheepish grin to his otherwise impassive expression. 

For fear of questions she changed the subject. “We were halfway through,” she pouted. “This better be good.” 

“It’s horrible actually.” Spencer interjected. 

“Four bodies were found in Anchorage, Alaska. All females in their early to mid twenties.” Hotch announced. “Bodies were cremated and left on the family's doorstep.” He continued 

The team shared the same dumbfounded expression, save for Reid. 

“It gets worse. The MO is consistent with the murders of eight women in Gainesville, Florida.” Spencer divulged. “A week ago.”

“That is way too short of a cooling off period,” Derek emphasized. 

“The cremation and return to the family suggests remorse,” JJ suggested.

“Or he’s taunting them,” Emily added. 

“This can’t be his first kill, he’s gotta have a history.” Rossi pointed out. 

“I’ll look into murders where the victims were cremated and/or left with the family. But without more information, it's kind of a longshot” Penelope offered. 

“See what you can find anyways, we’ll reconvene on the jet. Wheels up in 30.” 

With that everyone prepared to fly to Alaska. 

—

〖 taglist: @shmaptainhotchner  〗

to be added to the taglist, just shoot me a dm/ask/comment

[writefasttalkevenfaster]

Aaron Hotchner / Tell Me to Stop

Request: "The heater broke and I’m freezing get over here" + "The Classic™: The hotel only has a king sized bed, I guess we’re sharing."

Word Count: 5,188

Warnings: Fluff, angst, some violence (its criminal minds, what do you expect), me having way too much fun with one of my fav tropes

“Sorry you got stuck with the short end of the stick,” Hotch intones, the two of you carrying your go-bags into the small motel you were now stranded in. The team had flown down to this small town in the middle of nowhere – with one hotel in the nearby vicinity. Unfortunately, being the only hotel did not mean superior technology - they had double booked two rooms. Which meant, two members had to be put up at a nearby motel – and lucky you, you both had drawn the short straws. 

“Short end?” you smile up at Hotch, who looks as unruffled as ever, “Did you see the first hotel?” He snorts in reply, “Pretty sure I saw fifteen health code violations walking past the threshold.” 

“And this is any better?” you shrug, looking around – it was a small motel: rundown, not well lit (you wondered if that for the more discreet clientele or because they couldn’t be bothered to change the lightbulbs out), and even the bell Hotch dinged at the counter was all but rusted over completely. 

“Well, it’s not the outdoors in the middle of winter. So, I’ll take it,” his lips quirked upwards, and you couldn’t help but stare a moment – his smiles were few and far between these days, especially after Haley. Any smile you could pry from him was something you cherished, even though you would never admit it. 

“Room for two?” you jumped, not noticing the woman who appeared at the counter now. Her sleeves of her flannel shirt were rolled up, despite the cold, and her straw like hair framed her face, grinning too widely at the two of you. 

Hotch seemed unfazed, “Two rooms actually. We were sent over here by the Creswell Hotel in town. They said you would accommodate us.” 

“Yes, yes,” she flipped through some charts, “Unfortunately one of the rooms we had for you was just taken.” 

“You booked the room you were holding for us?” you repeated, and she looked up from her list, tilting her head. 

“Did you expect me to hold it forever, my dear?” 

You stared, voice rising with every word, “It’s only been twenty minutes since we left-”

“We’ll take the one room, thank you,” Hotch interjected, taking the key from the woman, and steering you away from the counter, “Sorry, I just didn’t want our other room to magically get booked.” 

“Yeah, no, you’re right,” you shook your head, “sorry. I just can’t believe her. This is ridiculous.” 

“Better than sleeping outside right?” you rolled your eyes at that, as the woman waved you over to your room. And that’s when it dawned on you. 

You were going to be sharing a room with Hotch. She unlocked the room for you, handing Hotch the key, before flicking on the light. 

Both your eyes fell on the bed. Bed. Singular. 

There was one bed. 

~~~

The conversation with the manager went as well as the first one did. There was nothing she could do. Of course, you thought, staring into your go-bag, of course you would end up sharing a hotel room with your boss. 

“Do you mind if I shower first?” your head snapped up, and you shook your head, “Look, I know this is…uncomfortable, but it’s just a few nights. Obviously I’ll take the floor-”

“Hotch, I can take the floor-”

He shook his head, a wry smile pulling at his lips, “You take the bed,” and he adds, “that’s an order.” 

“Also,” you call after him, “can we not tell the team about our…living arrangement?” 

He quirks a brow, throwing his towel over his shoulder, “Morgan and Garcia don’t need to know about this.” 

“Thank you,” he closes the door behind him, and after a minute or two, you hear the shower start to run. You didn’t know what to do with yourself. Your teeth bared down on your lip, remembering how much Garcia had teased you as you waited for the cab to take you to the motel. 

“Come on, Y/N, we all know that you and Hotch-”

“Are co-workers, nothing more,” you hissed, pulling her aside, “There’s nothing between us. We’re just friends-”

“Friends who spend late nights at the office? Friends who stare at each other far too often? Come on, Y/N, you have worked here less time than most of the team and you have spent more weekends with him and Jack then the rest of us.” 

“I-“ You sighed, holding your head, “I don’t want to push him into something he’s not ready for Penelope,” 

She put her hands on her hips, “How is he supposed to know what he’s ready for when he doesn’t even know you’re an option?” 

Her words continued to ring in your ears. You walked the length of the room – which was about 6 strides before you had to turn back around again. Your boss was currently showering, one door separating the two of you. Heat burned a trail down your cheeks, warming your neck. 

Screw showering. You needed to go to sleep. You had to do something other than think about the words burning on your chest, ready to spring from your lips. The windows rattled, and you shivered, rubbing your sides as you knelt besides the radiator. Your fingers grazed the metal – it was barely warm. You turned the knobs, trying to get the heat going, until – 

“What are you doing?” You jumped, the knob coming off in your hand. 

Shit. 

~~

Your shower lasted far too long – but it was needed to wash away the sense of dread you felt. Unfortunately, as you turned the water off and stepped out, it was immediately replaced by nerves. You pulled on a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt. You had opted not to wash your hair, knowing your odds of drying your hair would be slim to none, and you would rather not add a hospital trip to top off this wonderful night. You paused before the door, heaving a heavy sigh, before opening it. 

You found Hotch not sleeping, but toying with the radiator, “You didn’t tell me you went to radiator repair school in between law school and the FBI.” 

He shook his head, sighing, “I didn’t, but I’m starting to wonder if that would have more useful than my law degree.” 

You shivered again, and it wasn’t just the shower – it had gotten colder in here and it would only get colder throughout the night. You glanced at the barebones set up that Hotch was going to calling a bed tonight, and back at him. 

You caught his eye and he cut you off, “You’re not sleeping on the floor, Y/N,” 

“Hotch-” 

“It’s just one night, I can-”

“I wasn’t going to suggest that I sleep on the floor,” your cheeks burned, swallowing the lump in your throat, “I was going to say we both sleep on the bed.” He opened and closed his mouth, jaw set as he seemed to consider it, “We’re both adults. We’re friends.” 

You sat on the bed, arms crossed, and he tilted his head, “And you’re fine with this?” 

You gave a soft chuckle, “I suggested it, so yes.” 

He sighed, “But-“ 

“Hotch,” you pulled yourself under the covers, “Get over here, it’s freezing.” 

You tried to pay no mind as he slid into bed beside you, ever so careful – like everything he did. You noticed his hair was still damp from his shower, the smell of his shampoo strong – was it mint? 

You shook yourself from these thoughts, turning from him to face the edge of the bed, “Good night.” 

“Good night.” 

You thought the end of it, but it wasn’t. 

You couldn’t fall asleep, no matter how much you intimidated the act. Eyes closed, breaths even, snuggled in the corner of the bed, and yet…the Sandman denied you. You needed to sleep, at least for a few hours for tomorrow. A lack of sleep led to mistakes which could led to a life lost. And yet, you knew every second that passed as you thought about this was another second you weren’t sleeping. And finally, you narrowed the problem down to two things – one, your boss sleeping next to you and the fact you fell asleep sleeping the other way, which would entail facing him. 

You couldn’t tell if Hotch was sleeping. He hadn’t moved much since he settled in. Was he pretending like you? The windows rattled again and a cold breeze made its way through the thin glass, and through your thin blanket. 

Fuck it. It was cold and you were tired. You turned around, eyes still very much shut, but curiosity pulled at your eyelids to just peek.

But you didn’t have to. 

“Still awake?” your eyes opened to find a pair of brown ones staring back at you. 

“Yeah,” you sighed, “despite my best efforts.”

“Is something on your mind?” 

“Not really,” besides not being able to sleep with you lying beside me, “How about you?” 

“You know, I’ve spent a lot of time with you, and I still can’t figure out if you’re lying or not,” his brow raised, you bit back a smile, “You can’t always brush aside your own thoughts.” 

“I can try,” you relent when he frowns, “Hotch, I can’t.” 

“Why can’t you? I’ve told you things I haven’t told anyone,” he admits, “things about Jack, about Haley. I want to be that for you too.” You stay silent, eyes staring at his pillow rather than him, “Unless you don’t trust me?” 

“I do,” you sit up, allowing the blanket to bunch by your legs, and he follows suit, leaning on one hand. “Too much. That’s the problem.”

  You lift your eyes to his, and you find him staring, his gaze heavy with the same emotions – fear, hesitance, and something else – something warmer. 

Would it be so bad? You thought, would it be so bad to give yourself the one thing, the one person would’ve wanted so long, and allow yourself to have it? He dared closer, his breath against your lips, eyes flickering from your eyes to your lips. 

“Tell me to stop. Tell me to stop, and I’ll sleep on the floor, and I’ll never try this again,” he whispers, so quietly, and it breaks your heart. It exudes of the hesitance, the desire, the brushes neither of you spoke of, the lingering looks, the simple domestic routine the two you adopted without a second glance, and the fear – the fear you would both lose it all. 

“Don’t,” you whisper, pressing your lips to his again. And you are enamored – in how he feels so soft against your lips, in the warmth of his hand cupping your face, and the quiet whisper of your name on his lips when you part for a breath, “Hotch- Aaron, I-”

He draws away to look at you, and you shake your hand, fingers at the back of his head, carding through his hair, “I’ve just wanted this for so long,” 

“I have too,” he admits, teeth brushing against his bottom lip, “I just never-” 

“Wanted to hurt you,” you finish with a small laugh, “Garcia was right, we are both idiots.” 

He presses a soft kiss to your lips, and then to your forehead, “At least we learned,” you lean up to catch his lips in another kiss, and he returns it – his hands daring lower now, as you lean back into the plush of the bed. His lips leave yours, trailing open mouthed kisses down the side of your neck, “and I’ll never make the same mistake again.” 

~~

Your eyes open at the sound of your phone ringing, and you almost believe your in your own bed, until you feel someone shift beside you, and you hear his voice, “Hotchner,” 

So, it wasn’t your phone. You blink sleep away from your eyes, and see him sitting in the bed beside you, “We’ll be right there.” 

His forehead furrowed, and eyes dark, though his gaze softens when he sees you staring, “We have to go. They found another body.” 

You sit up, pressing a small kiss to his lips, rolling your thumb to smooth his creased brow, “Let’s go.”

But he stops you, “About last night,” and your heart tightens at his expression, was it over that quickly? “I don’t know how I’m going to get anything done around you, so I’m going to have you work with Reid and help him nail down the geographic profile.” 

Your worry dissipates, and your frown quickly grows into a grin, “Think I’ll be a distraction?” You sit up on your knees, attempting your best doe-eyed expression, and he smiles. 

“You already were,” he sighs, running a hand through his hair, “it’s just for now. While we both get used to it.” 

You drape your hands around his shoulders, pressing your foreheads together, “I know, and you better get used to it. Because I’m not going anywhere.” 

~~~

You were working with Reid to put together a geographic profile, staring at the map pinned to the board in front of you. Reid had placed markers on the various places that the bodies had been discovered, along with abduction sites, looking for some sort of comfortable radius. Your brow scrunched in thought, you didn’t notice Garcia until she tapped your shoulder. 

“Penelope, did you find something to help-”

“No, no, but they had to reset the internet in this place for the fiftieth time because this place doesn’t know Google Fiber from the fiber they eat at breakfast,” she waved you off, her painted lips curled in a mischievous grin as she pulled you aside not so subtly, asking much too loud, “How did it go last night?” 

You were luckily expecting to be grilled by her, either sometime during this trip or on the plane ride back, “Nothing happened last night because we’re professionals on a case,” you rolled your eyes, “and because we’re just friends.” You added. 

“Come on, I know something must have happened – Hotch always works with you in the field on these types of cases, and suddenly, you’re with Reid?” Reid looks up from the board, slightly affronted, “No offense baby boy.” 

“Garcia, please,” you sighed, checking your phone, “The Wi-Fi’s back on, you should get back to work.” She protests, but you shake your head, “Unless you want me to tell the boss?” 

She pouts, but relents, “I will get you to tell me what happened last night. Mark my words.” 

You sigh, shutting the door behind her, turning back to the board, when you feel Reid look, “Got something to say?” 

“It’s just interesting,” 

You look over, and he bites his lip, “What is?” 

“That you said you were professionals and then added you were friends,” Reid says, flipping through a case file, “almost like being friends was an afterthought, or that you’re something more. I just figured something out about the case.” 

Your mouth hangs open as he puts the phone on speaker, and you hear Hotch’s voice ring out, “What did you find?”  

Your head snaps up as you look from Reid to the phone, “He’s stalking the women in a pattern – it seems random, but when you-”

“Spence,” you cut him off gently, “I trust you, but where is he going to hit next?” 

Reid’s eyes fly over the map, “The north end, the area that his second victim was taken.” 

You hear Hotch give orders out to the local police and agents, “Both of you stay at the precinct and help Rossi deliver the profile.” 

Rossi arrived shortly after, “We are looking for a man in his late 30s to early 40s,” 

“A veteran, a man who’s seen the horrors of war and has remained untreated for Post Traumatic Stress Disorder,” Reid continued to the on-looking officers, who stood with either their brows furrowed or furiously scribbling notes, “This may be because of lack of access to resources from the V.A. or a refusal of treatment.” 

“He is suffering from a psychotic break,” you intoned, pointing to the map and the scattered points concentrated in a southern part of the map, “he’s seeking his victims out in these areas that he is familiar with. We believed at first it was because he grew up in the area, but we no longer think that’s the case—” 

“Why?” a man you recognized as a lieutenant pipe up, his stern face looking thoroughly unimpressed, his arms crossed, and eyebrows raised. He was just looking for an opportunity to undermine you, wasn’t he? 

“Because,” you kept your tone carefully even, the last thing you needed to garner animosity amongst all these officers – the team was only there by there by their good graces, “someone who grew up in the area wouldn’t have ventured into this territory-“ you pointed to a section of woods to the west, “where bears often hibernate.” 

He said nothing, and Rossi then continued, finishing up the profile, “We advise being cautious around this man, he is overwhelmed by his delusions and is extremely dangerous.” 

“Unless it’s one of you?” the Lieutenant scoffed, muttering under his breath, “you just want the credit—” 

“It isn’t about credit,” you snapped, “we are trying to stop a man from hurting more innocent people. The exact reason why we are all here, Lieutenant. Or did you forget?” 

His face turned several shades of both red and purple, lips twisted in an ugly scowl that made his eyes bug out, and he stomped away towards his captain’s office. The sergeant cleared his throat, “Dismissed, get to work,” he crossed the bullpen as the chatter resumed, flashing you an apologetic look. 

“You didn’t need to add the ‘did you forget?’” Rossi sighed, shaking his head. 

“It was a reasonable question,” Reid started, before Rossi cut him off with a look. 

“You’re going to have to talk to Hotch about this,” Rossi glanced at the lieutenant and captain barely visible through the captain’s parted blinds, “Or they will.” 

~~

“You what?” It had been a few hours, and still, the team had come up with nothing. Every time they got close, the unsub seemed to slip away – and now he knew the police were closing in on him. And now, he had resorted to guerilla tactics to hide out. The team’s only chance to catch him is when he will resurface for another target. 

But that wasn’t your most pressing concern at the moment. 

Instead it was your boss, standing on the other side of the bed, arms crossed, and brow thoroughly furrowed – though now you appreciated how much the suit did for the intimidation factor, because Hotch glaring at you in a t-shirt and boxers as opposed to his suit? Very much not the same thing. Although…difficult in other ways. 

“I snapped at the lieutenant during the profile,” you keep eye contact with him, despite the growing need to look away from the mix of both anger and disappointment in his gaze, “we’re here to catch a murderer, and he was acting like it was-“ 

“A turf war? That’s because it is,” he sighs, pinching the bridge of his brow, “You know we are only allowed to come to these places—”  

“Yes, on good graces of these cops-” You scoff. 

“They are officers,” he corrected you, his voice tight, “This is their community. I understand it’s frustrating to be undermined, but—” 

“No, you wouldn’t understand,” you said quietly, a quiet chuckle lodged in the back of your throat. 

“What is that supposed to mean?” 

You turn away, holding your head, the ghost of a pressing headache on the horizon, “I’m a woman, I’m periodically underestimated just by my very existence – just by how I choose to define my gender and how society deems to view me. You, on the other hand, are an older white man – you can only fail up,” his lips were a tight frown, “So yes, I told that man the focus of our job is to catch bad guys because it was the truth.” 

“It is,” Hotch said slowly, rounding the bed, hands raised, “But it’s not for us. Our job is to help them do their job, and we can’t do that if they stop calling us.” 

“I know,” you cross your arms, “I know, I just—” 

“Just what?” his arm slowly wraps around you, “what’s bothering you?” 

Your fingers brush against his cheek, tracing his jaw, “This,” your fingers run across his lips, and he presses a kiss to the pads of them, “This will just be another reason for other people to underestimate me. Another reason to pass me over for a promotion. Another reason to—"

“I understand if you don’t want to do this,” he swallows, “I always did. I never want to hurt you or your career.” 

“I know,” your lips press against his, “and that’s what makes it harder. Even though we shouldn’t,” another kiss, this time against his pulse point, “even though it’s probably wrong,” your lips grow more insistent now, his hands snaking lower and lower, “even though this is risking both our careers.” 

And you pause, pressing your forehead to his, “But we shouldn’t,” his hands fell away, and you shook your head, the absence of his warmth making you shiver. 

“We shouldn’t.” 

He slept on the floor. It was somehow harder to sleep without him than it was with him. Probably because you knew what it felt like to sleep beside him. You hoped he hadn’t noticed you staring at his back as he quietly slept, wondering how you had come so close and gone so far in such a short amount of time. 

It made your head spin. How could things change so quickly? 

But anything could change – even in a single moment. 

And it did. 

~~~~

“We should pull her out,” Hotch watched your cam, as you hiked up the trail that yoy, Garcia, and Reid had pinpointed as one of two trails he could be hunting at, “she’s gone too far.” 

“She can handle herself, Hotch,” Morgan intoned, arms crossed, “she’s got this.” 

He kept his face in a careful mask, his mind was caught in a carefully concocted storm, and he could barely keep the walls up, “Ten more minutes,” he finally said. And it wasn’t a question – but an order. 

But ten more minutes was all he needed. 

Out of nowhere, he had you on the ground, knocked over the head – dragging you to where he kept his victims – including the one he still had. He kept each of his victims for shorter and shorter amounts of times. But he always got rid of them in the same way – he would grab another before he disposed of the other. 

“Go, now,” Hotch said, before grabbing a vest, “And I’m coming too.”

~~~

You groaned; a soft noise pulled from the back of your throat. Damn bastard got the jump on you – although that was the point. Were you dead? But the ringing of your ears and the distinct screaming ache in your head told you that you most assuredly were not – death wouldn’t hurt this much. 

“Are you okay?” a small voice asked, and you blinked, eyelids feeling heavier than the sky carried by Atlas, a titan with the weight of the world on his back – how wholly ironic, that’s how you always felt. And your shoulders ached just like his must have, but – the chains clanged above you – his pain wasn’t from being chained to a wall. “Hey, are you okay?” 

Finally, your vision relented a few degrees of blurriness, allowing you to lift and turn your head – a woman chained the same way you were presumably – arms strung up high, joined by two cuffs looped around a chain that was hammered into a rocky wall of a cave. 

“Yeah,” your head disagreed, screeching with every thought you had, “well not great,” your eyes squint in the darkness, looking for dancing shadows in the pitch black, “he isn’t…here is he?” 

“No, you’ll know when he’s here – the smallest noise makes an echo,” she says, and she’s right – you can hear the tiniest of waterdrops plink against the stalagmites, “I think he’s going to kill me when he comes back.” 

Her voice is raw, the terror quavering in her words, and you wonder – what he had done to her? Each victim had been tortured in different ways from the military – somewhere waterboarded, others were cut and bleed, others were beaten. Whatever it was – she spent the majority of the time screaming. 

“It’s going to be okay,” you grit your teeth, trying to strain against the restraints, “my team is on their way, I’m an FBI agent.” 

There’s a growl that emanates from the darkness, and then a roar, “WHO SENT YOU?” 

The unsub charges forward, wild eyed and bleary, holding a shotgun to your neck, as the victim sobbed, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. He made me-“ 

“SHUT UP,” he ripped apart your clothes until he found the camera and your GPS tracker, crushing it under his boot, “Now,” he pressed the barrel to your chin, “Who. Sent. You?” 

~~~~

I took you for granted. That’s the first and only thought he has when he hears a gunshot ring out in the bowels of the cave, echoing with the hideous squelch of blood. A scream rings out, along with the sound of sobbing, following the shot with disturbing synchrony – a symphony of his worst nightmares.  

He doesn’t remember much. He remembers running, the sounds of Morgan and JJ yelling for him, and small whimpers that sounded against the rocky crags. And he found you – covered in blood, the scarlet dripping running down your arms and a splash across your face. The unsub was on the ground, unconscious, in a pool of his own blood, as the woman beside you cried. 

Morgan and JJ undid her restraints, while Hotch checked you over, his hands patting the length of your body for injuries, “Are you okay? What—”  Your clothes were ripped up, the blood dripping across your chest. He pulls off his windbreaker and drapes it over your shoulders. 

“He found out I was an agent, but he thought I was a Russian agent,” you shook your head, “he thinks he’s a soldier in the cold war. He had us chained to the wall. He was going to shoot me, but I managed to convince him that I was part of the same covert unit he believed he was in. He undid my chain and that’s when I went for his gun. He fired it and it caught him by the shoulder. He fell over from the recoil and knocked himself out.” 

He frowned at the blood, that covered your body, “Then what—” 

“Pig’s blood,” you wrinkled your nose, “He was going to cover me in it and then—” you cut yourself off, “either way, I’m okay.” 

“I—” he cuts off, when Morgan and JJ call you guys out, “we’ll talk after.” 

He watches you as the paramedic does a basic check-up, “Have you told her how you feel?” 

He blinks, looking over to see Dave with a raised brow, “Yes, I have,” 

Dave breaks out in a grin, “It’s about time—” 

“We decided we shouldn’t be together, Dave,” he shakes his head. 

“Aaron—” 

“What will people say?” Hotch cuts him off, “about her? What will happen to her career—” 

“You can’t control everything, Aaron. Neither of you will know what will happen if you date, but both of you know what will happen if you don’t—” Hotch tilts his head, as Dave sighs, holding forehead, “You’ll both be miserable. You make each other happy. She makes Jack happy. You don’t get that very often in life, Aaron. Take it when you get it.” 

Dave nods, before walking towards the car, and Hotch takes one last look at you, wrapping up with the paramedic, before following him. 

He knew what he had to do. 

~~~

As you step off the plane and make your way into the office, you shake the events of the day off, “Get some rest, sweetheart,” Morgan squeezes you in a one armed hug, before Garcia crushes you in a full one, “whoa, whoa baby girl, easy, she just got patched up and now you’re already trying to break her in two.” 

“I was just so worried,” Garcia stepped back, “are you sure you’re gonna be okay getting home?” 

“Yeah, I’ll be fine, don’t worry,” She squeezes your hand one last time. 

“Call me if you need anything,” she says, walking towards the elevator door with Morgan, Reid, and JJ. 

“You know it’s actually possible to split someone in two with just human sheer force?” you hear Reid say before the doors close. 

“Reid, I didn’t need you to tell me that,” 

You finish grabbing your stuff, heading towards the elevators, when Hotch calls your name, “Can I see you in my office for a second?” 

You nod, following him to his office, heart in your throat. 

He shuts the door behind you, and he just stares. 

You tilt your head, shifting in place, unsure whether to sit or not, “Are you okay?” 

He shakes himself from his stupor, “I should be asking you that,” he takes careful steps towards you, “I almost lost you today, I—” 

“Aaron, you didn’t lose me,” you hold yourself back, from finding his hand, from cradling his cheek against your palm, instead keeping your arms crossed against your chest, “you could never lose me.”

“I already did,” he breathes, and instead his hand found your cheek, and his hand found your fingers, pulling them from your chest, “when I didn’t fight for us.” 

“Aaron—” 

“Tell me to stop,” Hotch tells you, fingers brushing gently over the curve of your face, “tell me to stop loving you, but I can’t. I’ve tried. I don’t think I ever will.” 

“Our jobs—” 

“We can talk to Strauss, together, we can figure this out. After almost losing you – something happened to you and we never—” he cuts himself off, clearing his throat, “You are taking a bigger risk than I am I know, I know you are,” his voice is strangled, “and I never want to pressure you into something you don’t want, but I’m telling you where I stand.” 

“Aaron,” 

“You don’t have to respond,” and you smile, fingers intertwined with his. 

“Oh, but I have to,” and you press your lips to his, “because I love you, and I never want to lose you.” 

He kisses you then, arms wrapping around your waist, as one of yours found purchase on his shoulder, the other fisted in his hair. His chuckle rumbles against your lips, “Sorry you got stuck with the short end of the stick,” 

You laugh, shaking your head, “It’s never the short end if I’m with you.” 

Tag List: @infj-slytherclaw, @ciarawriitesmarvel, @evans-dejong, @laneygthememequeen,  @good-heavens-chris-evans, @aberrant-annie, @possum-pancakes, @spoken-stardust, @there-will-be-p-e-a-c-e, @quitepointless, @sabrinafey, @emmalvei-blog, @fantasy-never-ends, @ihateitwhenyourejustvague, @dreila03, @arabellathorne, @antmnwasp, @jellijinnie, @danisnonexistent, @peaskyblonders, @that-aesthetic-wannabe, @llamaproblem, @hurricanejjareau, @kmart2124, @ughitsbaby, @factualfic, @kamieshep, @freewriterofdarkness. @dizzydancingqueen, @evee87, @unusualtingz, @lavenderblossom12, @panagiasikelia, @alleycat2496, @witteksquad, @agenthotchxxxx, @aberrant-annie, @pan-pride-12, @possum-pancakes, @spoken-stardust, @carisilover, @cringeemospntrashassbutt, @aaronelishotch, @quitepointless, @geekgirleve, @amyisantisocial, @emmalvei-blog, @my-life-is-here-soo, @patricks-fabulous-face, @omg-its-vixen​, @maraudermae​, @flowersprettyflowers​, @kobrakai1972​, @bowieisawizard​

[imaginesfor-thesoul]

spencer reid x hotch! daughter

(this is totally an au w/out jack and haley IM SORRY)

:: :: ::

The BAU had always heard about SSA Hotchner’s beloved daughter, (y/n), though none of the members had ever had the pleasure of meeting the aforementioned.

Besides the occasional anecdote, Hotch kept mostly to himself about his family. The only tangible evidence that (y/n) even existed was the black and white baby picture propped up on Hotch’s desk. On especially hard days, that silver photo frame displaying his gorgeous baby girl would be the only thing getting him through the day.

Naturally, mystery creates conspiracy. Derek had proposed that perhaps she was trouble, a black sheep. Maybe Hotch was ashamed to talk about her. Garcia, on the other hand, had attempted at some light snooping (minor invasion of privacy). Her search amounted to nothing more than a couple report cards and a birth certificate. JJ could appreciate Hotch’s value of privacy for his family, though on drunken nights with Emily and Spencer would sometimes picture what the mystery girl looked like (this often concluded with a female hotchner, furrowed brows and all).

The elusive daughter of aaron hotchner was far from the BAU’s mind that day, when a young girl wandered into the bullpen asking to talk to “Mr. Hotchner”.

The girl, late teens early twenties at first glance, walked into the buzzing room with a look of worry, yet a piqued interest.

She had got in using her last name and showing ID just to confirm. “Would you like me to tell your dad that you’re here, sweetie?” the kind woman front desk asked with soft eyes.

(y/n) shook her head “that’s alright, i’ll find him, thanks.”

Walking through the glass doors, it was busier than she was expecting. Perhaps she would need help finding her dad after all.

Taking cautious steps, so not to disturb the important people probably doing very important things all around her, (y/n) didn’t see the 6’1” mop of hair and cardigan approaching behind her.

“What are you looking for?” A silvery voice inquired from behind her.

The sudden voice caused (y/n) to jump out of her skin “Jesus dude, you scared the hell out of me!” She turned to see a man. A very gorgeous man. He wore tall cheekbones and wide, heartbreaking eyes.

“I’m sorry I didn’t mean to scare you.” He apologized quickly, though his previous question still lingering in the air.

(y/n) crossed her arms over her chest and quirked a brow. “How did you know I was looking for something?”

The man flashed a quick (cocky) smirk before stating “Well to start, when you got to the glass door, you pulled before pushing it open, indicating that you’ve never been here before, or at the very least, haven’t been here often. You came in slowly and scanned the entire floor, shortly analyzing every face around you, as well as reading every sign on a door from where you entered to here.” He finished. He spoke quickly, precisely and matter of factly.

As impressed as she was, all (y/n) could manage to say was “So you’re a profiler, huh. Let me guess, Reid?” She had remembered her dad telling her about the young genius.

Taken slightly aback, Spencer responded with “Uh, yeah. And you?”

“That’s not important. What is important however is the fact that you’ve been watching me! What, do I have a “kick me” sign on my back or something?” (y/n) nervously quipped. For some reason, he made her feel small... and warm, is it hot in here??

“No, not that I saw” He smiled lightly. “So, can I help you find something?”

(y/n) remembered why she had come here in the first place. “Oh yeah! Can you point me towards my- uh... Mr. Hotchner.” She cringed a little at her close slip up.

Reid instinctively pointed towards the top of the steps of the bullpen and towards the middle office. “He’s right up there-“

(y/n) lit up and began heading that direction.

“Wait you can’t just walk in there, he might be on a call or something. Do you have an appointment maybe we can get you to JJ!” He fumbled over his words as the girl continued to confidently stride towards his bosses office.

He looked to the members of his team for any sort of guidance or suggestions, yet they all remained speechless when the girl threw open Hocthner’s office door and jumped on in. “Who the fuck?” Was all Derek could say.

(y/n) pulled the door open with an unexpected force. It had been about 2 weeks since she had seen her father, and the look of surprise on his face made the homecoming all the more better.

“(y/n)?! What are you doing here?? How did you get in?” Hotchner questioned. Concerned, yet always happy to see his girl.

Noticing the numerous sets of eyes on him from the profilers downstairs, he quickly closed the blinds before scooping (y/n) into an overdue bear hug. “I missed you, dad.” She told him, letting go of him.

“I missed you too, (y/n). Always.” Smiling sadly, he ushered her over to his desk to take a seat.

“So what’s going on?” Hotchner asks, his furrowed brow returning.

(y/n) sighs, returning to reality stung a bit as the memories flood back. “I’m sorry I didn’t just do this over phone but I’m too afraid to use my phone in case someone is tapping it.” She let out, a slight pounding in her chest as the anxiety returns.

“What are you talking about?” Hotch eagerly asked. Worry spreading across his features.

“Do you remember a couple weeks ago my roommate, Amber, passed away from a drug overdose?” (y/n) began.

Hotch nodded.

“Well, two nights ago, I came back and my other roommate, Lacy is-“ (y/n) was trying everything in her power not to cry in front of her dad, though the words could barely come out. “She’s missing, dad! And there was a note... A note saying that whoever left it had killed Amber and that Lacy was next!”

She was hysterical now.

Hotchner’s heart broke as fear rose within him. His worse fear of something happening to (y/n) was getting dangerously close, and his sobbing daughter in front of him made him ache through and through.

“Right, here’s what we’ll do.” He took her hands in his in attempt to get her to stop crying.

“I’ll get the team on it right away. you’re going to have to help us, but I promise you, we will keep you safe.” (y/n) nodded and wiped the flowing tears off her cheek.

After a few more minutes of consolation, (y/n) had gathered herself and followed behind her father out his office door. Standing above the bullpen, Hotch shortly cleared his throat gaining the attention of his team. “We’ve got an urgent case, everyone up here now, Morgan, grab Garcia.”. The tall, dark and undeniably handsome man nodded and headed off promptly.

The rest of the team, curious as to why JJ hadn't brought the case to the team obeyed nonetheless. Reid caught (y/n)’s eyes once more. Through that gaze, an incomparable sense of safety fell upon the two. 

Filing into a board room, Morgan and Garcia were the last to stumble in after Hotch, (y/n), Reid, Prentiss, JJ and Rossi. It was interesting for (y/n) to finally place faces to the names she had heard many stories about. 

Hotch stood before the team. “Everyone, this is my daughter, (y/n). I wish I could've introduced her under different circumstances but here we are.”

A slight, barely audible realization settled through the team with Derek and Garcia fondly smiling towards you, JJ and Prentiss sharing a glance as if to say “called it”, Rossi nodding in understanding and Reid gaining a slight look of fear across his features.

As her father explained the events from the past couple of weeks, (y/n) zoned in and out, knowing the case through and through. Though she was still fearful, she let her mind drift towards the absolute sunshine that was Dr. Spencer Reid. His light had been the only source to pull (y/n) out of her total darkness, though it was just momentary.

They were magnetic from across the table. She didn't want him to pity her. As Hotch detailed what was going on, Reid couldn't help but glance at the girl, in a silent attempt at reassurance. 

Pictures of Lacy and Amber (that Garcia had quickly dug up) up on the screen, (y/n) felt the familiar feeling of darkness creeping up once more, her eyes welling up, though she couldn't seem to look away. She didn't seem to hear as Hotchner finished up and the team immediately jumped into action.

A large hand made its way to her trembling one. “We’ll find her, I promise”.

(y/n) looked into Reid’s soulful eyes and she could tell, he genuinely meant it.

Catching sight of her father’s furrowed brow, she swiftly slid her hand from under his and cleared her throat. She shortly replied “Thank you.” Though the look in her eye declared so much more.

:: :: ::

part two

AN oh hey, it’s been a minute. 

[jemej3m]

Aaron takes the mental health course part of pre med (is that a thing?) and starts recognizing Andrew grounding himself, having an episode, etc

bruhhhhh 

bruuhhh

*

Aaron winced as his son sprinted for the door, yelling the whole way. The twins knew that their uncle was coming to visit and were absolutely ecstatic about it. A well-known fact amongst the old Foxes and their children was that Andrew was very, very good with kids. 

Well, Aaron conceded. Andrew wasn’t good with them. He just didn’t even have to try: they loved him right off the bat. And barring the slight furrow in his brows whenever one of Aaron’s twins or Kevin’s spawn whined ‘please!’, he didn’t seem to mind being around them, either. 

His son was jumping for the doorhandle excitedly, so Aaron put his hand atop of his head and stilled him before swinging the door open. 

Andrew was much the same. They were aging the same way, albeit the slight muscular composition difference. Andrew’s teeth were a little more yellow, though he’d given up smoking a few years ago, and Aaron had reading glasses tucked into the collar of his shirt. Other than that, they were just as similar as they always had been. 

“Hey,” Aaron said, but his son was already yelling and jumping and tugging on Andrew’s hand. Andrew’s lips nearly twitched into a smile. Nearly. 

Once his bags were deposited and shoes tucked into a corner, Katelyn handed him a mug of cocoa and they all sat on the couch as the kids regaled their uncle with stories of preschool and their neighbour’s new dog and how Dad had found them in the bathroom with craft scissors, which was why Aaron’s son had such a short haircut now. 

Katelyn got them settled for bed soon after: Andrew had arrived relatively late in the evening, just in time for ‘adult dinner’. 

“How was the flight?” Aaron asked, taking a dish of potatoes out of the oven. 

Andrew hummed into his glass of wine. “Miserable.” 

Aaron had known for quite a while Andrew’s deliberating fear of heights, ever since the Foxes had taken a reunion trip to Hawaii a few years ago. When his wife hustled back into the kitchen, Andrew nodded at her and she smiled back. Aaron felt something odd in his chest. Andrew had been very tolerant of Katelyn lately. He assumed it was the kids’ doing. 

They ate dinner quietly. Katelyn chattered about the kids, and their medical placements. Andrew asked about their specialties. 

Aaron stared at the plate. Katelyn nudged his shoulder. 

“Right.” He glanced up. “I’m not sure. What I want to choose, that is. It’s between surgery or psychiatry.” 

Andrew hummed. “Psychiatry.” 

Aaron shrugged. He’d done a lot of mental health work throughout his postgraduate degree. It just seemed to make sense that he’d go into that field. It takes one to know one, and all that. “What do you think?”

Andrew just arched an eyebrow. “Does it matter?”

“Well, yes,” Aaron said, tone a little frigid. Drake’s trial had been a public debacle, but it was Dr Richmond Proust that Aaron couldn’t get out of his head. It was during their fourth year when the news had come on about a psychiatrist at Easthaven being exposed for forceful sexual conduct with patients. Andrew hadn’t spoken to anyone but Neil for a week, and then disappeared for another two when Waterhouse asked him to stand witness to Proust’s trial. 

“Psychiatry is glorified drug dealing,” Andrew decided, stabbing a piece of broccoli with his fork. He paused, then shrugged. “Could probably do with a bit of Minyard fuckery, though.”

Aaron was finally able to read Andrew’s subtext though: that was the biggest compliment he’d ever get. Unable to bite down a smile, he said “I thought so, too.” 

His brother simply hummed. 

The rest of dinner passed quietly. Andrew had three of Katelyn’s triple fudge brownies and sent a photo of them to Kevin, just to piss him off. The evening slowed down with a nightcap in front of the news, Katelyn heading to bed early. She’d agreed to take the kids to their daycare in Aaron’s stead so that he could have breakfast with his brother alone.

Aaron was just about to turn in for the night when Andrew’s phone rang. Andrew squinted at the unknown number, mouth turned down: he could remember everyone’s phone numbers, and this was clearly one he didn’t recognise.  

He rose the phone to his ear. The slight frown disappeared and transformed into a blank stare, something far deadlier. Aaron hadn’t seen him wear it since college. 

“When,” Andrew snapped, gripping the phone so hard Aaron thought it would break. The voice continued. “And you only thought to call me now? I’m his next-of-kin.” Aaron froze. 

Eventually, Andrew hung up, holding the phone midair as his eyes glossed over. 

“Andrew?” 

“Neil got in a head-on collision,” he mumbled. 

“Dead?”

“Unstable.” 

“I’ll book you a flight.”

Andrew wasn’t moving. When Aaron saw a flush rise in his cheeks, he realised Andrew wasn’t breathing, either. Shit. Shit. His brother was having a fucking meltdown. Goddammit, next time Aaron saw Neil he was going to strangle him. 

He got off the couch and crouched down in front of Andrew, careful not to touch him. “Andrew.”

Andrew didn’t move. 

“Hey, Andrew.” Aaron stood up a little more so that they were eye level. “Andrew, you need to breathe. Okay? If you’re going to go make sure Neil’s okay, I need you to breathe.” 

Andrew finally looked at him. He was angry. Terrified. Aaron couldn’t really tell: his gaze was like looking into a void, pupils blown wide. 

Calming someone down was a lot simpler when Aaron didn’t know them. This was like walking a tightrope of barbed wire over an alligator-infested pit. 

“Can I have your phone? I’m going to book you a flight. Okay? Nod if you can hear me.”

Andrew nodded but didn’t relinquish the phone. Aaron grit his teeth. 

“Andrew. It’s going to be okay. He’s unstable, but he’ll make it. He’s always made it. He’s impossible to kill, right?” 

“I hate him,” Andrew mumbled. 

“I know. Can I use your phone?” 

Andrew dropped the phone into Aaron’s hand and dropped his head into his hands, utterly still. His breathing went all ragged and choppy. 

There was a springy voice on the other end of the line. “Hello, this is the service desk for Terminal 1 domestic, how can I -?”

“I need a flight for Denver as soon as you can,” Aaron snapped. “It’s an emergency. When’s the next available one? I’m willing to pay whatever’s necessary.” 

“Oh,” the woman sputtered. “Um, there’s a red-eye leaving in an hour, but there’s only first-class left - ”

“That’s fine. Please book it for Andrew Minyard. I’ll be there in twenty minutes.” 

“Sir, I really can’t - wait, Andrew Minyard? Seriously?”

“Dead serious.” 

“Alright,” she allowed. “Okay. If you can make it to this desk in 25 minutes, I’ll have a seat for you, Mr Minyard.”

Aaron hung up. “Andrew, we need to go.” 

Andrew’s breathing sped up, fingers digging into his hair and pulling hard enough to rip it out. Aaron’s chest began to ache, watching as the sleeves of his shirt fell down to reveal the black armbands, still everpresent after all these years. 

“Hey,” he said, keeping his voice gentle. “Are you with me, Andrew?”

Andrew glanced up slightly, glaring at Aaron’s collarbone. 

“All you need to do is breathe. Neil is okay. He’s going to be okay. You’ll see him soon, alright?” 

Aaron tapped his hand gently on his knee, palm down for four counts, then holding his fist closed for eight counts, then palm up for four counts. Andrew slowly began to breathe in time with his hand, chest heaving as he inhaled through his teeth. 

It took a while, but Aaron watched him slowly come back to his senses. His hands slipped over his eyes once his breathing was steady, kneading at his temples. 

“I’ll drive you to the airport,” Aaron said. 

“Okay,” Andrew rasped. 

*

“Babe,” Katelyn whispered. “Your phone is going off.”  

Aaron blinked his eyes open, glaring at the ceiling. Why’d he been up so late? 

Oh. Right. 

He blindly reached out for his phone. 

Most of it was the Foxes going mad, but there in the midst of chaos, was Andrew’s number. 

he’s going to be ok. thank you.

Aaron sighed, oddly relieved. He didn’t like Neil Josten one bit, but it would’ve been a slight hiccup if he’d died. 

good, he said, texting blindly without his glasses. don’t mention it.

trust me, his brother texted back. I won’t.

*

nawww twinyards!

[merakiaes]

The One For Me - Aaron Hotchner

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x reader

Requested: By @nuvoleincielo​

Prompts: #16, #30 and #63 from the fluff-list. 

Warnings/notes: This is my first time writing for Hotch and Criminal Minds in general so please be patient while I get used to these new characters, might be slight OOC😭 It’s also the first piece I’ve written in a few months now and I’m a bit rusty, so please let me know what you think. Not proofread so I apologize in advance for any possible mistakes. Send in more requests for Hotch, Reid and Morgan and let me know if you want to be added to the Criminal Minds taglist! I hope you like it💕

Wordcount: 4118

Summary: Hotch has doubts about letting your relationship go further and you reassure him that he’s what you want. 

After being raised in one of New York’s worst, most crime ridden and low poverty neighborhoods by a family who was constantly targeted by the law enforcement, the last thing you’d expect was that you would become an active worker of said law enforcement.

Your mother died ten minutes after giving birth to you and your father had never been a part of the equation, most likely having ran the second he found out your mother had gotten pregnant. With no other immediate family, you ended up in the system, where you were stuck for the first seven years of your life.

You jumped back and forth between families of all kinds but for reasons unknown, no one wanted to keep you. It wasn’t until a couple adopted you two days before your eight birthday that you finally felt like you belonged.

They had many children of their own as well as more foster children, all between the ages of ten and twenty-five at the time of your adoption. On top of that, the children had children of their own and aunts, uncles, cousins and friends stayed with you more often than not as they struggled to hold on to homes of their own.

It wasn’t the most ideal way to live, a dozen people staying under the same roof of a two bedroom house, but you had dinner on the table every evening and the love for family was strong, so despite the conditions you lived in and the struggles you were forced to face on a daily basis, you guessed you couldn’t complain; you’d had it better than most.

The people who lived in those parts were always getting pinned for various kinds of crimes, just so the police could get it out of their hands and go on about their lives.

The male members of your family and the company they kept were some of the biggest targets even though they rarely did anything wrong, but despite the injustices they faced every day, they remained respectful when staring in the face of a cop.

You, on the other hand, despised them. You were an outspoken little girl, too feisty for your own good and on more occasions than one, you’d ended up pissing off some rich kid in school for which your dad and uncles were forced to pay the price.

You’d always hated the injustice the less fortunate suffered every day, but it wasn’t until you witnessed your first murder at fifteen that your interest of making the world a better place really piqued.

The victim had been one of the boys living in your neighborhood. He was two years older than you and he always gave it his all to make something out of himself. He walked with you and your younger brothers and cousins to school every day to make sure you got there safely, studied hard, kept out of trouble and always remained respectful.

The only reason he died was because his skin was the wrong color in the eyes of the law and because he was born into a less fortunate neighborhood, and it was then your eyes truly opened to the police brutality and misuse of power plaguing your country.

You joined the police force when you were nineteen years old and you stayed there, on top of your game and determined to do it better than the bad ones, until you were twenty-one. 

At that point, most of your family had passed away either out of old age, or simply from being in the wrong place at the wrong time, and your determination to help people was stronger than ever.

But even you, the tough little firecracker as your uncles had always called you, could only tolerate so much.

After two years on the force, you got tired of being undermined by your male co-workers and set out to step up your game, taking up studies of criminology and psychology among several other subjects.

You studied your ass off and was just barely able to get by with the money you had saved up over the years, and at twenty-four, you finally had your degrees and clearance to begin working in higher places.

Starting off in New York, you stayed there for six months before you were transferred to Quantico, Virginia, where you were recruited by the one and only Jason Gideon who had heard word of your talent in the field.

You had worked with the team for little over a year now and Jason, who had always acted as a kind of mentor and father figure for you, was gone, having left only a letter for you and Spencer each.

Taking his place was Aaron Hotchner, a fellow agent to which you hadn’t paid much personal attention before the departure of Gideon. But things changed when he left, a lot of things.

Hotch was fresh out of his divorce, moodier than ever and in a really bad mental state. He stayed in his office until the late hours of the night, sometimes even the early hours of the next morning, barely slept and often forgot to eat if he wasn’t reminded by his team members.

Everyone urged him to take some time off, to go home and get some sleep and to take care of himself, and although he always told them that he would, he never followed through.

Up until then, you still hadn’t spoken much with him except for when you were working on a case. You were just an agent and he was just your boss, there was nothing else to it. But you couldn’t just sit by and watch as he neglected himself, so you followed your team-mates’ example and approached him.

He dismissed you at first, like he had done everyone else who had tried to offer him their support. But as time passed by, in some miraculous way, you made him laugh, and as you continued your attempts on offering him your ear to listen, he opened up to you, and you grew to become more than just colleagues.

Your first and only date had been on your initiative. You invited him to dinner at your house during your weekend off, to which he agreed.

You cooked together and although it started off as kind of awkward – more from his side than yours – you ended up kissing later that night after having had a bit too much to drink, and fell asleep together on your couch while you were flicking through your childhood photo albums.

The next morning, he was gone. You had always been an extremely light sleeper so you found it strange that he had managed to slip off without alerting you and also having managed to wrap you up in a blanket before he left.

He didn’t leave without a word though. A note was neatly placed on the coffee table in front of you, on which he explained that he needed to pick up Jack and that he didn’t want to wake you, finishing it off with a thank you for the night before.

That was the first and last time you spent time together, just the two of you, but it wasn’t like it was intentional.

You wanted to do it again, to continue exploring the budding romance between the two of you and to see where you could take it, and although you knew nothing of his feelings, he wanted the same thing.

But work got very stressful; stressful to the point where you could never find a moment to talk to each other if it wasn’t in the presence of the entire team. But the spark between you wasn’t gone.

It was still there in the way he would let his hand hover above the small of your back when you were walking side by side and step in front of you if you were ever in danger, and in the way you would always take a second to ask how he and Jack was doing, if they were eating enough and getting enough sleep, whenever you were heading somewhere; no matter if the team was with you.

It was there in the way he would always encourage you to go on the less dangerous tasks while he took the ones that were more life-threatening and in the way he would always smile, the slightest of smiles, whenever you were exchanging jokes or sarcastic remarks with Morgan, or messing around with poor, clueless Reid.

It was there, but it was unspoken. At least until now.

The case you had been working on for the past two days was that of Gilbert Stratton; a serial killer who had targeted young women, killed them, drained them of their blood, and then proceeded to hang the bodies up by their feet in trees all around the city.

You had caught him just in time to save the last kidnapped girl and you had originally been the one assigned to question him, but Hotch had stepped in last minute after the man had made a crude comment about how ‘girls like you always tasted the best’.

You had attempted to tell him that you could take it, but before you had even been given a chance to state your case, he had shut the door in your face and you had been whisked off by JJ.

You were the one out of the entire team who was the most interested in the psychology of a serial killer so you really wanted to be the one to interview Stratton, but you knew that Hotch had taken over for the sake of your safety and not because he underestimated you, so you couldn’t even bring yourself to be mad.

While he did his job, you settled at your desk with a sigh, getting to work on the heft stack of paperwork that had been building up throughout the week. 

The first ten minutes you kept close track of the clock next to you, wondering why it was taking so long, but the more time that passed, the more focused you became.

Soon enough, you only had a few reports left and you had completely lost track of time, when there was a sudden bang behind you, sounding an awful lot like a door slamming shut.

And your suspicions were proven correct, when you looked up to see Hotch march straight the bullpen.

The corners of your lips tugged up at the sight of him, but the arising smile quickly fell again when he walked right past you, without even an acknowledging glance, heading into his office and shutting himself inside without as much of a word to anyone.

Left behind with dumbstruck looks on their faces were the team, glances of bewilderment being exchanged.

“What happened?” Reid asked the question you were all thinking after a moment of silence, just as Emily walked in from the interrogation room.

Rather than answering Reid’s question, she looked right at you, offering you a small, comforting smile. “I think you better go talk to him.” She said simply, and as confusion and anxiety bubbled up inside of you, you slowly drawled.

“Okaaay…”

They all watched you as you stood up from your seat, brushing down your shirt and turning off the lamp at your desk before heading for the stairs.

You could feel their eyes following your every move and you would be lying if you said you weren’t nervous of what you were about to walk into.

Everyone had gotten negatively affected by a case or unsub at some point during their career, most more than once. They were all very good at getting into your head, no matter how little you wanted to admit it. But you had never seen Hotch react this strongly to anything before. The only time you had really seen him snap was during one single case, right after Haley had filed for a divorce.

Still, you kept walking until you reached his closed office door, stopping only then to peek inside the blinded windows to see him sitting at his desk, hands rubbing over his face.

You knocked on the glass gently and in any other case he would have looked up and meet your gaze, but when his head kept hanging this time, you let yourself in, only when closing the door behind you cutting off the curious eyes of the others.

Once you were inside, you wasted no time in approaching Hotch where he sat by his desk, analyzing his every move which led you to only one question.

What the hell had Stratton said to him to make him this distraught?

He didn’t even look up as you reached him, keeping his eyes closed as you came to a stop beside his desk.

Treading carefully, you reached out and gently put your hand on his shoulder.

“What happened?” You asked softly, the sound of your words instantly bringing a long, heavy sigh out of his nose.

“Why are you doing this?” He wasted no time in replying, causing a crease to form between your eyebrows.

“What?” You asked back, confusion lacing your voice.

Finally, he brought his hands down from his face and slowly spun around in his chair, forcing you to drop your hand from his shoulder and to take a step back.

He stared up at you, face wiped free of emotion as always. But the eyes said it all.

“Why are you so adamant on being with me? Why do you try so hard?” He questioned you, taking you by surprise.

Your eyebrows shot up and your eyes grew slightly wider, and you took a moment to regain your composure after the, to say the least, unexpected question.  

“What kind of question is that?” You asked once you finally regained your senses. “Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do when you want to be with someone? Try?”

One of your eyebrows sank again, leaving only one raised in question.

Hotch’s face softened slightly and for a moment, he averted his eyes, letting out another, smaller sigh from his nose before looking back up to meet your eyes once again.

“What I mean is, why do you want to be with me?” He asked again, clarifying and slightly shaking his head in what seemed to be disbelief. “The second you walked into this office, both Morgan and Reid had their eyes on you, and they still do. They’re closer to your age, they’re energetic, humorous, full of life, while I’m ten years your senior, and can’t offer you what they can. So why do you want to be with me, when you can have them, or anyone you want?”

“What is it that they can give me that you can’t?” You didn’t waste a second in firing back.

You had no idea what had brought this on, but it was clear that it was bothering him and quite frankly, you found it ridiculous even though you didn’t like making it a habit to judge other people for what they were feeling.

“They can make you smile-“ He started explaining, and you instantly cut him off.

“You make me smile, all the time.” You shook your head, but your affirmation only seemed to fuel his frustrations even more as he was up on his feet within the next second.

“But I’m not- I’m not fun.” He stated, staring you down. “My clock is ticking. I’m ill-tempered, irritable, too serious for my own good. I’m barely capable of taking care of myself at this point much less my son. I’m miserable and I’m a bully, who only cares about this job. Why would you want to be with someone like that?”

“Where is this coming from? I thought we had something good going.” Your face fell slightly, and you carefully reached your hands out to grab a hold of the front of his suit, taking a small step closer.

“Is this because of Stratton? Is he the one putting these doubts into your head?” You asked, keeping your eyes on your hands for a short moment before looking up to meet his heavy gaze staring down at you.

And once your eyes met his, he knew there was no point in lying; you were a profiler after all, and a good one at that.

“He did.” He confessed calmly, his lips pursing into a straight line.

“Aaron…” You began, the softness of your voice matching the one in your eyes.

“But everything he said is true.” He quietly interrupted you. “I’m not fun to be around, I push people away. That’s what I do, what I’ve always done.” His eyebrows rose and he stood still.

You knew about the doubts he had about himself. You know he felt inadequate as a friend, as a colleague, as a father, and more than anything as a partner after the way Haley had left him. You were aware of all of it, and yet the sound of those self-doubts being voiced aloud saddened you nonetheless.

Silence fell over the two of you for a moment as you took another step closer, flattening your palms out on his chest and your eyes never leaving his.

“Those people didn’t deserve you in the first place. They knew what they were getting themselves into when they started building a relationship with you, whether it be a romantical or purely platonic one. They knew how passionate you are about your job, how much you value it. Them leaving… That’s on them, not you.” You said softly, shaking your head. “I’m not about to give up on you, on us, just because you happen to be a few years older than me. Derek, he wants to have fun, to be young. He may be attracted to me but he doesn’t want anything serious. Spencer isn’t ready for a relationship either, for obvious reasons, and either way, they’re not the ones I want.”

He watched you intensely as you spoke, lips still tight and strained. “What is it that you want?” He asked you, and you wasted no time in replying.

“Something serious and stable, someone who’s ready to settle down, and for me, the best chance to get that is through you.” You smiled, breaking your eyes away from his to follow your hand as you moved it up to his face. “Regardless of what other people say, you’re an amazing person. You’re passionate, driven, kind, loyal, gentle, and so much more. Despite what you may think, you do have a sense of humor and you’re the only one who can make me smile until my cheeks hurt. If that’s not a good man, a good person, then I don’t know what is. I wouldn’t change a single thing about you.”

By the time you finished, the remaining doubt was wiped free from his face, a small, gentle smile instead having taken its place.

It was a funny thing, Hotch only ever spared the tiniest of smiles, and yet it was them that brought you the biggest and most intense amount of happiness. It was so rare to see his ever-stoic features reflect joy that you couldn’t help but light up like a kid on Christmas every time it occurred.

And true to what you’d always been told growing up, your smile was just so contagious that he couldn’t help but to smile wider at the sight.

“Thank you.” He whispered, and visibly relaxed where he stood.

Your heart swelled in your chest when you took note of the way he was slowly but surely shuffling closer to you, picking up a significant amount of speed when you then felt his hand brush against the side of your hip.

But he didn’t dare touch you, hesitation still lingering in the air. So you did what your heart told you and grabbed a hold of his hand, and pushed it down into the curve of your waist.

From then on, he moved on his own, raising his other hand to mimic the same position at your other side, and you let your hand drop from his, instead raising them to busy with his crimson red tie.

“I know you’re struggling, with yourself, with Jack, and that you’re still processing the divorce. And if it’s time you want, then I’ll wait.” You spoke quietly, feeling your skin flush hot under his touch as his thumbs began to move over the thin fabric of your shirt. “But if you want to keep going and see where this can go, then I’ll be here every step of the way to support and help you in any way I can. You just need to let me in.”

More shyly then before, you dared loo back up at him through your lashes, hands stilling on his chest.

His smile was gone and his eyes creased together in concentration, but his eyes were soft and his head slowly nodded. “You’re right.” He said, and you allowed yourself to smile again.

“Aren’t I always?” You lightheartedly teased, tilting your head to the side.

In return, a smile spread across his face, his head shaking. “Don’t make me take it back.”

“No, no take-backs. What’s said is said.” You kept joking, your smile only widening.

He kept smiling down at you for a few seconds longer, but then his face fell again, just like that, out of nowhere, completely sudden. The gaze he held on your face grew absent as he got lost in his thoughts, and before you could question him about the sudden change of mood, the words spilled from his lips as if there was no tomorrow.

“I think I love you.”

Your mind instantly broke into a flurry of thoughts, countless emotions battling in your body. Nervosity and excitement ended up coming out on top, the mixture of the two creating an uncomfortable, sickly feeling in your stomach.

Your face fell in disbelief and your eyes searched his as he came back to reality.

“You do?”

Your voice came out so quiet and small, you mentally cursed yourself for sounding so pathetic, but luckily, you didn’t get much time to beat yourself up over the anticlimactic reacting as he continued.

“You don’t have to say it back if you don’t feel the same way, but I needed to say it. Every day, this job puts all of our lives in danger. I couldn’t bear it if one of us died before I got the time to let you know how I feel.”

You sucked in a breath, feeling yourself growing weak at the knees as he absentmindedly rubbed your waist with his thumbs.

“Just a minute ago, you were trying to end… whatever this is, and now your proclaiming your love for me?” You asked. 

It was meant to be a joke, an attempt to ease the anxiety you were currently feeling, but you realized quickly that said anxiety made it sound like the exact opposite of a lighthearted, teasing joke.

Luckily, the man standing in front of you was a profiler and knew that you meant no harm, understanding how shock could render your ability to react appropriately.

“I was never trying to end what we have. I just wanted to be sure that you were sure. That I won’t be holding you back.” He explained, and you finally managed to pull yourself out of the state of shock.

“Being with you motivates me. And I love you, too.” You confessed, the smile once again returning to your face as you moved your hands from his chest to wrap around the back of his neck. 

“I’m happy to hear that.” He smiled right back. “Can I kiss you?” He quietly added, and your face instantly lit up in a mischievous expression.

“In the office?” You gasped dramatically, bringing your arms down, taking a step back and lightly slapping his chest. “Aren’t you feeling frisky today?”

A large smile stretched across his lips, his chest shaking as he chuckled. “Come here.” He said simply, and before you got the chance to argue, not that you would’ve if given the opportunity, he sat back down in his chair and pulled you down with him. 

The chair spun in the process, causing you to let out a squeal of surprise. Your arms wrapped around his neck and your small laughs of glee quickly became muted as he placed his lips on yours, replaced by low hums of contentment. 

You clung to him as if your life depended on it, basking in the feeling of his lips moving against yours and his arms tightening around your waist, and as your entire body burned with passion, you realized that he really was the one for you.

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