#aaron hotch drabble
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I love Hotch sm. How can someone be so handsome - esp s1 Hotch omigosh! 😭😭😭 Can we possibly get a fic where sunshine!reader (or even bombshell!reader, if you prefer instead!) loves to kiss and cuddle away her grumpy!Hotch’s frowns and scowls? 🙏🏼❤️
“C’mere.”
“No.”
“Come here,” you whisper, curling your finger, beckoning your boyfriend into your space.
Aaron gives you a knowing look but eventually steps forward. He stops in front of you, all business today. He smiles less and less at work as responsibilities pile on, but you remember your smiley coworker. He used to like his job. You still love it, and you love him, but you aren’t unit chief.
You smile, daring him to smile back.
“Did you want something?” he asks.
His hair flops onto his forehead. You rake it back. “So long.”
“I’m thinking about going shorter.”
“That’s a decision for both of us,” you say, teasing while he stays incredibly still.
You’d helped him get dressed that morning, pinching his shirt together over his undershirt, buttoning it to the neck, and bending his stiff collar away. You’d thrown the tie over his shoulders and brought it together. Tied it, tucked it, and used it as an anchor to pull him down for kissing. In your bedroom, he’d grabbed you by the face and kissed you ardently.
Here, he only looks at you.
“You okay?”
“I’m stressed,” he says.
“Can I fix it?”
“It’s politics,” he explains away. “I’m fine.”
You check the landing for watchers and tilt your head up to kiss his chin. He laughs softly, head angled down, allowing you better access as you pepper his cheek with kisses. You kiss until you feel his cheek apple, evidence of a smile you can’t see, and when his hand comes to the small of your back you wrap your arms around his neck and hide there.
“Does it get exhausting, being serious?” you ask.
“Mm… no, not really.”
“I wish you had less of a propensity for misery.”
“How can I be miserable when you’re around?” he asks, cupping your head to keep you in the curve of his neck.
Down in the main offices, keyboards clack and phones ring. You’re slightly secluded where you stand in front of the conference room door, but not by much. You honestly don’t care if people see you kissing your boyfriend in work hours —perhaps they should make him less kissable— or holding him when you should be at your desk. They can dock your pay, if they want.
It helps that Aaron is technically your boss. There isn’t protocol for one half of a couple becoming boss of the other one, so you get to make the rules.
Or, Aaron does. “Alright,” he says, peeling you away from him gently. “I have things to do.”
“One last one?” you ask, equally gentle.
He nudges your nose with his and kisses you. Again, you persevere in kissing until he smiles.
“No more frowning. You’ll get wrinkles,” you say.
“I have them already.”
“And they’re contagious.” You frown deeply at him. He manages another smile before he sends you on your way.
#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner x you#aaron hotchner x y/n#aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner fic#aaron hotchner blurb#aaron hotchner drabble#aaron hotchner imagine#aaron hotchner fanfic#aaron hotchner fanfiction#hotch x reader#hotch#hotch x you#hotch blurb#hotch drabble#criminal minds
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how do you think Aaron and reader who are married, react to both being called ‘Agent Hotchner’ and they both answer? That’s so cute, I could just imagine Derek smirking and Rossi having a proud dad moment
the hotchners
AHHH I LOVE THAT cw; bau!reader, established relationship, typical cm case talk, playful banter/fluff 🥰
"The unsub is devolving, they’re getting more reckless," Derek thought aloud, clicking his pen in hand. "He dumped the last victim in a public place, rather than the usual, secluded spot."
"They're losing control." You inputted in agreement, your eyes darting across the conference room table to him.
Aaron leaned down on the table, still standing, but with his palms pressed against the surface. He was next to you, and this stance allowed him to be ever so slightly closer. Your heart warmed by his proximity, as any displays of affection were at a minimum when in the field. You were happy he was just close by. "The next victim will probably be someone they can’t control-"
"Agent Hotchner?" A voice came from behind, hindering the conversation.
"Yes?" Both of you answered swiftly, out of habit, though it was a new habit for you. Your tickled eyes met Aaron's, your nose scrunched up slightly in amusement.
Derek grinned, swiveling back and forth in his chair in observance. Rossi raised his hand to his mouth casually, concealing a chuckle.
The voice in question, one of the local police department's officers, even hesitated himself, as if he didn't know which Hotchner he were to rely the information to.
As soon as you and Aaron got engaged, the discussion of whether or not you'd take his last name was on the table. To avoid confusing situations like these, or to prevent any reputable prejudices. It was rare, but every so often you received grimaces from bystanders, both in the field and in the office back home. Marrying your boss? Either tremendously romantic or something to be frowned upon.
But in the end it was unanimous; you wanted his last name, and as did Aaron. It was even more important to him. A symbol of a bond he couldn’t wait to share with you; an acknowledgment of the life you were about to build together. You and him. The Hotchners.
"Uh- sorry to interrupt. The victim's fiancé is here for their interview. They're waiting in interrogation." He stammered, his gaze switching between the two of you.
"Thank you. We'll send someone in shortly." Aaron replied, politely dismissing the officer. He kept his trained demeanor, but you could hear the laughter underneath his voice.
As his footsteps trailed away, you nudged Aaron, humorously bumping your shoulder into his upper arm.
He kept his gaze on the files laid on the table, his lips spread in a soft smile as he slowly shook his head.
"Wipe that smirk off your face, Dave." He didn't even need to look up.
"Hey!" Dave commented, his tone light as he spoke. He held up his hands in surrender, but that didn't diminish from the proud gleam in his eyes; it also happened to be the same one he had adorned on your wedding day. "I didn't say a thing."
"Oh, but it's written all over your face." You quipped also, raising an eyebrow in his direction.
"Just when I thought the two of you couldn't be any more married." Derek rolled his eyes, playfully as his lips pulled back into a grin. "What's next? Have you mastered the art of the ‘yes honey’ yet, or is that still a work in progress?"
"Please, that was perfected before we got married." Aaron remarked as he relaxed his posture, straightening up. He flashed a smile in your direction, speaking over Morgan's cackle. "Isn't that right, honey?"
#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner fluff#aaron hotchner x you#aaron hotch x reader#aaron hotchner imagine#criminal minds#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds x you#criminal minds drabble#aaron hotchner drabble#criminal minds fanfiction#hotch imagine#criminal minds x fem!reader
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DUTY CALLS
Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader
! Smut Warning !
a/n: i wrote this super quickly bc honestly i’ll never get enough of this idea however many times it’s done��
-> drabble <-
"God, you feel so fucking good." Aaron groaned, his voice both hoarse and breathy as he thrust his hips in quick succession against your own, trailing the pad of his thumb over your pebbled nipple, the warmth of his body looming over yours as he toyed with the stiff peak.
“Aaron..” His name fell from your lips amidst a soft moan, feeling heat burn through your skin with each stroke of his hips against you.
"I know." He breathed, "Taking my cock so well, honey."
He thrust his hips quicker, splaying his large hands across your chest, squeezing possessively at your breasts as he ran his opposing hand from its grip of your hips to your bare ass.
"That's my good girl." He practically grunted, warm skin smacking together. Purposeful in his teasing, Aaron rolled the hardened peak of your nipple between his fingers, pulling a shaky moan from your mouth.
"Fuck, yes.." You whined back arching in a plea for more - his touch somehow both firm and tender against the sensitivity.
"Such pretty tits, darling." He praised, hungry gaze running deep as it wandered back between your thighs. His cock twitched between the pulses of your walls as he absorbed the sight of him disappearing inside your cunt, your arousal soaking his shaft.
As your teeth punctured into your lower lip, a blaring ringtone escaped Aaron’s phone as it lay atop the beside table.
"Shit." He hissed, eyes flitting to the number that presented itself on his screen.
"Aaron.." You begged, "Please don't- fuck- don't stop.."
Your words sent heat pumping through him as he kept up the pace of him without fail, teeth gritting in response to your plea, his jaw tight with conflict. After the passing of a few short moments, he seized the phone in his hand, shooting you a stern look as he swiped his thumb over the screen.
“Hotchner.” He spoke, clearing his throat as he brought his rhythm to be much slower, assuring the sound of your skin colliding wasn’t audible over the line.
Your eyes widened in an instant, the thrill of it only heightening your arousal. You breathed softly, trying your absolute best to remain quiet as you heard a male voice mumbling on the other end of the exchange.
With his remaining hand, Aaron slid the pad of his thumb upward from your breasts, sliding it messily over your lips as he silently mouthed, ‘Open.’
Suppressing your desperation to make a noise, you parted your lips and allowed him to slide the pad of his thumb against your tongue.
"Have you sent the files over?" He inquired, keeping his voice impressively steady as he moved slowly against you.
Satisfied whimpers fought to escape your throat as you pushed them down, feeling Aaron’s thumb pressing against your tongue. Without the need to be told, you wrapped your lips around the thick digit, muffling yourself around his thumb as you watched him clutch the device against his ear.
His eyelids shut for a brief moment before he forced them open again, clearly struggling to hold back as he felt you squeezing him. The sight of you certainly didn’t help either, cunt full of his tauntingly slow thrusts as you sucked sweetly at his thumb, only nearing his release, “Alright. Be there soon.”
The very moment the phone beeped and the call cut, Aaron let out a frustrated groan. He wasted no time in picking up the pace of his hips once more, dragging his now damp thumb down your chin, “You did so good for me, honey. Now show me how loud you can be.”
#smut#smutty#drabbles#oneshot#criminal minds#criminal minds smut#aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner x you#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner smut#hotch#hotch smut#hotchner#hotch x you#hotch x reader#hotchner x reader#hotchner x you
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pairing: aaron hotchner x fem!bau!reader, platonic!spencer x reader summary: in which your close relationship with spencer makes aaron wonder if there’s something going on between you and the young doctor. content warnings: mentions of kidnappings, torture, child abuse (typical cm case stuff), insecurities, age gap, and haley, jealous!aaron (hb is DOWN BAD), he kind of acts like a prick in the middle of this? but it’s v brief and he apologizes!! hints of autistic!spence, angst if u squint but mostly fluff, miscommunication, technically idiots to lovers but hotch is the only idiot <3 word count: 5.1k (this was NOT supposed to be this long omfg) a/n: this was inspired by a dream i had where i was besties w reid and everyone thought i liked him until i had to blurt out that i was into older men… enjoy!!
If looks could kill, Aaron was sure Spencer would be dead by now.
It was contradicting, in a way. How he thought of Spencer like the son that had come before his actual son, yet he was staring at him like a predator stalking their next victim.
You were standing next to the young genius, shoulders brushing against shoulders as you went back and forth with the geographical profile the two of you had been assigned to work on, something Aaron was really regretting having done.
The team had been called in to assist with a case in Portland, Maine, involving an abductor-type unsub. One who would stalk his victims and learn their routines before kidnapping them, torturing them for two to three days before disposing of them in forests and parks all throughout the city.
You and Reid were both tied when it came to your skills with geographical profiles, one of the many things that had blossomed your relationship with him. But with the way the unsub was beginning to rapidly devolve, the rush to develop said profile and figure out his next move had forced Aaron to assign you two together.
Deep down he knew that it had to be done for the sake of the case and all its victims, and that it was the best decision to make as leader of the team.
But, still, he couldn’t help the jealousy that was bubbling from within him, his gaze completely focused on the way you giggled and smiled, endeared, while watching Reid struggle to tape the map one of the sheriffs had supplied you with to a spare whiteboard in the office the team had been given to work in.
He hadn’t even noticed when JJ walked up to him, the blonde hair and white button up she was wearing apparently not enough to break him out of his trance until—
“Hotch.”
Aaron snaps his head towards her, blinking in bewilderment, “Sorry, what?”
JJ stares at him with a look of both concern and amusement, a smile tugging at her lips. Her hand is raised expectantly and her eyes flicker towards the case file in his hands.
He looks down at it, brows furrowing when he finally sees the death grip he was holding the paper with. It’s slightly crumpled from where his thumb had rested, the pages wrinkled.
He clears his throat, trying to soothe out the file as subtly and smoothly as he can before handing it to JJ, “Sorry,” he grumbled.
The blonde chuckles softly, taking it from him and doing her own best to bend it back into place. She begins to flip through the pages, though she can’t help but follow Aaron’s gaze back to you and Spencer.
You had finally gotten up to help him in taping up the map, taking it from his hands and effortlessly doing so before turning around and giving him a cheeky smile.
JJ turns her attention back to him, biting back a smug smile when she sees her boss practically glaring daggers at the two of you, “I assume you’re trying to figure them out, too?” She asks, looking down at the file.
Aaron blinks, this time slowly turning his head to gaze down at her, “What do you mean?”
Her eyes widen at the realization of what she just had insinuated about her co-workers to her boss. She shrugs coolly, trying to play it off, “Nothing. They’re just really close is all,” she gives him a tight-lipped smile before quickly walking away, leaving Aaron more confused than before.
He feels his fingers twitch by his side when he glances back at you. It’s cheesy, the way his heart skips a beat when you tuck the strands of hair that had made itself to the front of your face behind your ears. His hardened features soften at the sight of you laughing at something Reid’s said, something he’s sure only the two of you understand.
Aaron’s not sure what it was that had gotten him to stick out for you like a sore thumb or how his sudden infatuation with watching and admiring you and your every move had happened.
All he could recall was that it happened, and it had happened too fast for him to begin realizing how you had begun to overcome his every thought and consume him with feelings he hadn’t felt since Haley’s passing and his marriage with her.
A part of him had told himself that he wasn’t to blame; not only were you one of the best agents he had ever worked with, but you were the loveliest and wholesome of humans.
You had your rough days, everyone on the team understandably did, yet you never failed to meet people with kindness and patience, something else that Aaron wasn’t used to receiving when it came to his co-workers. And, as much as they loved him and he loved them, even his team members were prone to calling him ‘cold’ and ‘stoic.’
While you, on the other hand would always meet him with fond, bright smiles and greetings, never once avoiding his gaze or running the opposite direction as to ‘not get in his way’ like others did.
You were like the sun peeking out of the clouds after a dark and tremendous storm, shining on him with such warmth.
So, in the end, he couldn’t really help himself from falling for you. Or for even feeling childishly jealous when you were shining your warmth onto others.
Especially with someone who apparently the rest of the team suspected you of dating.
Perhaps he couldn’t blame Spencer for falling for you, too.
Everyone meant well, and Aaron knew he was also victim to cutting him off when the boy rambled, but you were the only one who truly listened to him. Who would interrupt him gently during urgent matters and let him continue after they were solved, and never made him feel inadequate.
He doesn’t know how he hadn’t seen it before now that JJ has mentioned it—too blindsided with his own feelings for you—but he begins to wonder, though, if there actually is something more between the two of you.
He likes to think that he begins playing close attention to your mannerism, body language, and shared interactions the two of you have throughout the entirety of the case because he has to. Now that it's been brought to his attention that two of his subordinates might be in a relationship, it's his job as Unit Chief to keep tabs.
So, he watches, when the whole team is sitting in the rectangular table, debriefing with one another and sharing ideas all whilst munching on take out food.
"So, we obviously know that the significance of the victim's being dumped in nature spots is important to this guy," Morgan explains, motioning his hand around the air as he goes on, "but could it be that he kidnaps and keeps his victims in similar spots, just somewhere more secluded?"
"Spencer and I were thinking that that could be a possibility," you say, stealing a fry off of said boy's take out plate, "Maybe he doesn't live in these same places, but he could be taking them to a hidden spot somewhere in the forests, something possibly hidden by debris, wood, or anything makeshift."
Spencer doesn't even blink as you continue to steal more neglected food off his plate, continuing to sort through pictures. Aaron could see Emily and Derek give each other a knowing, smug look through his peripheral.
He manages to swallow, the tip of his middle finger and thumb tapping against one another, "What else have you two come up with regarding the geographical profile?"
"Well, besides where he himself could be living or where he could keep his victims, the whole profile is scattered," Spencer answers this time, sliding the plate towards you as he sets down a picture of each victim with the name of the forests and parks they were found in written underneath. "The first two victims were dumped in a forest, the third in a park, and the fourth in another forest.."
As he goes on, you take advantage to continue eating, the way in which he had just let you eat off his plate despite his known phobia of germs not going unnoticed by everyone else.
If that one wasn't a sign, Aaron didn't know what else was.
*
With the geographical profile being all over the place, Aaron decides on pulling you away from the task the following day, instead pairing you up with him to check out the crime scene of the most recent victim.
He doesn't know if it's the leader in him doing so, pulling you away from your original project he had tasked you to do, or if it's just the mix of both curiosity and jealousy that continues to gnaw at him.
He was a grown man, for Christ's sake. Yet he couldn't help the way his heart churned when you hold his hand for a second longer than necessary after he helps you climb up the small, but frosty hill.
"Thanks," you mumble sweetly, your shoulders brushing against him as you walk past him and towards the await detectives.
Aaron trails behind you, trying to calm his beating heart as the lead detective on the case walks you both towards the victim's body.
"This is the second victim that's been dumped in a park," you start, squatting down to inspect the cuts and bruises on the woman's face. "These sites are obviously more public than the forests, yet he still leaves them in more secluded spots, away from general view."
"Well, we ruled out that he can't feel any remorse or sympathy," Aaron adds while he looks around the now closed off park. "He holds and tortures these women for hours."
You stand from your spot, placing your hands on your hips as you look around the park. Aaron recognizes the face you make as your 'thinking' face, your eyes squinted and your nose scrunched.
"What is it?" He asks, trying to meet your wandering gaze.
“Reid and I were talking about the possibility of the unsub dumping his victims in the same places where half—if not all—of his childhood abuse took place,” you miss the way his breath hitches in his throat and the way his shoulders sag slightly, continuing. “We know that he has to be a local here from Portland—probably raised around these same areas—and that he was abused severely as a child.”
Aaron tries his best to nod as nonchalantly as possible, “Something from his childhood obviously triggered him for him to start abducting and inflict the same pain on the victims before leaving them in similar places where he could have been left as a child after being abused.”
“Exactly,” you say, crossing your arms over your chest. “We were theorizing around that idea for a while but weren’t too sure if the abuse could play such a huge part on his M.O.”
At the mentions of you and Reid again, Aaron couldn’t help but feel like an idiot.
Not only was he a grown man, but he was also your boss. And you were his subordinate, someone he should never had feelings for in the first place and someone he shouldn’t be feeling possessive over as if anything was to truly ever happen between you.
At first he had thought that Spencer wasn’t to blame for having the same feelings Aaron so strongly harbored for you. But, maybe, you weren’t the one to blame.
For falling for someone more your age, for someone you worked and paired so well with, for someone nobody else made such a grand effort to understand the way you did.
Not only was he a grown man and your boss, but he was also double your age, a single father, and a widower.
Swallowing harshly, he pulls out his phone from his suit’s inner pocket, “I’ll have Garcia check out any reported speculations of childhood abuse in these areas and see if she can narrow down our list,” He turns, using his height to his advantage and speeding off, leaving you completely behind.
You frown, rushing to catch up to him. You halt when you come to the same frosty hill he had helped you climb up and open your mouth to call for his help, but close it back up when you see he’s already made it back to the SUV and is climbing inside.
When you finally climb inside the car after successfully managing to climb down the hill without busting your ass, he’s talking with Garcia.
You wait patiently as he drives, the phone on speaker as he gives out quick orders that your friend rushes to catch up with. You try to take the chance of speaking up once he hangs up with her, but he’s quickly dialing for Rossi afterwards.
You’re quiet throughout the ride back to the precinct, the sudden change in mood too heavy for you to gather the courage to make any sort of conversation. Once parked in front of the building, he gets out right away, slamming the door while you’re barely unblocking your seatbelt.
You make a beeline to the conference room where you find Reid, no longer paying any mind on trying to find Aaron any longer.
Spencer jumps when you hurriedly slam the door behind you, eyes filling with worry when you lean against the wood and stare at the floor pensively, “You okay?” he asks.
“Fine,” you mumble, pushing yourself off the door and taking a seat across from him. “I just got back from the latest crime scene with Hotch and he started acting so weird after I told him about our theory of the unsub’s dumping pattern.”
“Weird how?”
You move to speak, but hesitate when you realize that going into detail about how cold your boss suddenly acted towards you after being used to receiving such kind—some might say preferable—treatment would make your friend speculate things he, of all people, did not need to speculate.
You shake your head, “Nothing. He’s probably just stressed or tired,” you drop your forehead onto the table’s cold wood, your arms stretched out in front of you. “I know I am.”
A beat of silence passes before you hear a creak and the feeling of a finger press against your index. You bite back a laugh, looking up to find Spencer leaning forward in his own seat to do a ‘finger touch,’ something you had come up with for him after realizing how persistent his germophobia was, even with the people he loved the most.
You smile at him, leaning your head on one of your forearms and pressing your finger into his.
From outside the glass-windowed office, Aaron watches you both, a solemn look on his face.
*
The case is finally closed once you and Spencer’s theory is proven right, the unsub securely put away and the green light to go home given at last. But with the late night icy weather too dangerous for the jet to take off, Aaron orders for everyone to instead turn in for the night at the hotel and head out first thing tomorrow morning instead.
He gives a silent thanks to no one in particular when he finds out it's his turn to have a room all for himself, the rotation always being cheated by Dave, Derek, or Emily that he always forgets who's next.
Shockingly enough, he's ready to turn in for the night, not even sparing an extra glance to any of the files he had brought with him as he prepares for bed. He's just about to sit down when a knock comes from behind his door, echoing throughout his room.
He lets out a quiet groan but stands nonetheless, rubbing tiredly at his face before swinging the door open. His first instinct is to snap at whoever's behind, but that's before his eyes cast over you.
You're fiddling with your fingers, dressed in your pajamas that consists of an off-the-shoulder shirt that dips low enough to show off your collarbone and the very top of your chest, your bra strap in the middle.
And, despite the chilly weather outside, you were wearing shorts. A pair of cotton shorts that peek out from underneath the shirt you were wearing and leave little to the imagination—more so, Aaron’s imagination.
Truth be told, he's seen you in a lot less. Your usual team outing outfits consisted of tank tops, baby tees, shorts, and slightly more revealing clothes.
But this, seeing you in what you would normally sleep in, sends him into a completely different spiral.
You cringe and immediately panic at the thought of having woken him up, "Sorry, were you already asleep?" you ask, taking a tentative step back.
Aaron blinks and clears his throat, the pads of his thumb and middle finger once again tapping against one another, "No," He lies. "I was barely getting ready."
Your shoulders drop and the panic dissipates as a small smile replaces it, “Oh, okay,” you bring your hands behind your back, rocking on your heels, “I just wanted to talk to you. If that’s alright?”
Aaron’s brows furrow though he immediately steps to the side to allow you in, a soft ‘of course’ following.
He takes in the way you hesitantly step in, back facing him and arms still intertwined behind your back.
You’re being respectful, probably hoping that you’re not overstepping with whatever it is that you want to talk about. And though you always are, he can’t tell if you’re nervous, worried, or filled with insomnia that you just couldn’t sleep.
“Is everything alright?” He finally asks when you don’t make a move to sit down anywhere, his hands slightly ajar to his side like he’s ready to reach out and touch you.
God, how he wishes he could touch you.
You clear your throat and turn around, “Actually, I was just coming to ask you the same thing,”
The harsh lines on Aaron’s face deepen when you take a seat on the edge of the bed, glancing beside you as a signal for him to join you.
He swallows as he does so, careful not to sit too close and award you space. His eyes flicker back up at you when he hears your breath hitch.
Seconds of silence pass before you shuffle closer to him, bringing your body forward so that you were staring at him directly.
“Are you… feeling okay?”
Aaron freezes, his movements completely stilling at your question. His mind begins to race with all the possibilities of what could have brought on your question when it clicks.
How he had concurred that you and him were completely different and could never be a possibility, and how he immediately decided that acting cold towards you would shun out the feelings he’s felt for so long now.
Another clear of his throat, he replies, “I’m fine.”
You raise a brow at him, giving him a look that shows that you know he’s not telling the truth.
“Are you sure?” you ask again, this time more firmly. “I don’t mean to overstep, but you’ve been acting rather…strange ever since you and I got back from the fifth victim’s crime scene.”
Aaron cringes at how your expression turns into a sad one, quickly masking it with one of concern afterwards.
He sighs. He supposes that if there’s a possibility that you and Spencer are dating, now’s the time to ask you about it.
He makes a show of staring directly at you in the same way he does when he’s in his ‘boss mode,’ trying to study your face before he asks the question, “Is there something I should know about you and Spencer?”
That wasn’t what you were expecting.
You’re taken aback, quite literally flinching as if you had been struck. It takes you a few seconds to take in what he’s just asked you, and you shake your head almost as if it wasn’t real.
“I’m sorry?”
The desperation gnaws at him once more, and he’s not sure which side of him wants to find out the answer.
“Are you and Spencer dating?” he asks again, voice somehow unwaveringly calm as he punctuates each word clearly.
Your mouth opens in shock, letting out a sound that’s half a scoff half a broken laugh. You look around the room in utter bewilderment.
“What correlation does my relationship with Spencer have with what I asked you?” You can’t tell if you’re angry or just confused, but you stand from the bed and stare down at him.
Aaron follows your lead, “I never noticed it before until the rest of the team pointed it out, but you two are close. Close in such a way that—” He swallows, “—as your boss, I have to ask.”
Before the rest of the team pointed it out. Of course.
You fully scoff this time, “As my boss, you should know that Spencer and I have always been close,” you concur.
“Then why can’t you look at me?”
Despite your heart hammering in your chest, you force yourself to look at him, “Excuse me?”
“You’re not looking at me, you’re getting defensive, and you’re practically avoiding the question,” he says, his own gaze practically boring into you.
“Hotch—”
“You’re deflecting by saying that I should know that you two have always been close, and while I do know that, you’re still not answering my question.”
It feels cruel of him to press you for answers like this, knowing that there was an easier way to do it.
“Reid and I are not dating!” you do your best to not shout it at him in fears of waking the rest of the team up, fists balled at your sides.
“Then why are you so nervous?” he asks, taking a step closer to you. “Why can’t you still look at me?”
“Because it’s you that I like!”
You slap your hands over your mouth immediately and the room falls silent.
Aaron blinks. Once, twice, three times.
You liked him?
You lower your hands, nervously brushing your hair behind your ears as you look around the room in a state of panic, “I-I’m just going to go,” you mumble and immediately rush towards the door.
Aaron stands the for a second, too frozen to do or say anything before his own panic settles in brazenly. His body moves before he has time to register what he's doing and what he'll do when he reaches you.
He wraps an arm around your forearm just as you open the door, halting you from stepping outside, "Y/N, wait,"
"Hotch, please," you're quick to try and release yourself from his grasp, yanking your arm towards yourself in what results as a poor attempt. "Just ignore what I said."
"I can't do that," he dips his head to try and get you to look at him but you simply avoid your gaze even more than your originally had, your cheeks flushed.
"Hotch, let me go!" you whisper-shout, once more fighting his grip. “I’m already embarrassed enough, I don’t need you chastising me anymore.”
“I’m not chastising you, Y/N,” Aaron’s sure he sounds as desperate as you probably feel, but he can’t find it in himself to let you go and ruin his one chance of bringing his feelings to the light. Even if it went against everything he had been telling himself earlier that week.
“Do you not think it’s possible for me to feel the same way?”
Your head snaps towards him, your movements suddenly rigid at his question, “W-What?”
You’re sure that, if your heart hadn’t raptured beforehand, it certainly will now.
Aaron takes you letting your guard down as the chance to bring a hand to your waist and pull you back into the room, shutting the door and thanking that nobody else from the team had emerged from the commotion.
“What do you mean by that?” you’re quick to ask, staring up at him with curious, yet hopeful eyes.
He lowers his head as to avoid your gaze this time, letting out a deep breath. Everything he wanted to do now went against everything he had told himself the day before, when he ridiculed himself for ever thinking that you would like someone such as him or that something could ever happen between you two.
“Hotch,” your voice is firm and you allow yourself to take a step closer to him. You need him to look at you, to give you some sort of clue that he didn’t just say what he said to play you, to get you to re-enter the room just so he could profile you even more. “What do you mean by that?”
Repeating your question doesn’t help him and it certainly doesn’t help the way his heart hammers in his chest, a sound so loud that he’s sure you can hear it from how close you’re standing.
“You like me?” you whisper, dipping your head to try and meet his eyes. How ironic that just a couple of seconds ago you were trying to avoid it.
Aaron shrugs, finally looking up, “How could I not?”
His boyish, yet vulnerable expression makes your breath hitch.
“I said that I had to know if there was something between you and Reid as your boss, but it was just because I was jealous,” he shakes his head, trying his best to suppress an all but amused smile. “It was immature of me, really.”
You shake your head, trying to collect both your own thoughts and everything he was telling you. He had been jealous?
“So, is that you acted that way after I told you about our theory in the park?”
The way in which he left you behind in both the park and in the parking lot of the precinct hits him like a brick, cringing at his actions, "I realized then, when you were talking about what you had both come up with, how compatible you two are. How it would make more sense for you to like someone more suited for you. I'm sorry for how I acted,"
Your heart breaks at hearing his confession, of how he, the same man you practically fell head over heels for after your first meeting, could think that he was unworthy of your attention. If you were being honest, you hadn't been hurt by the way he had acted earlier in the day, only confused as to why.
"Hotch--" you stop yourself. You take another step closer, closing the space between the both of you more and more. "Aaron,"
He snaps his head up at your usage of his first name, the way you said it so gently and naturally getting all his attention.
"I've liked you ever since I first met you," you confess. "I'll admit I was too intimidated by you to fully register what I was feeling, but the more I got to know you, the harder I began to fall. And I fell really hard," you let out a laugh, trying to ignore just how much you were putting on the line right now and how self-conscious you felt with his eyes boring into you.
"You've been with the BAU for three years," Aaron's voice is barely above a breathless murmur and he's sure you wouldn't have heard it if you weren't standing so close. "That's how long you've liked me for?"
You nod, lips pursed, "I never said anything because I thought you would never see me that way, let alone reciprocate my feelings. If I'm telling the truth, I wouldn't have said anything if it weren't for you pressing me into telling you that I was dating Reid."
Aaron smirks despite the warmth he feels on his cheeks, shrugging his shoulders and letting out a soft laugh, "Well, then I'm glad I ended up asking. Who knows how many more years we would've gone like this if I hadn't."
You both laugh, subconsciously curling towards each other when you both double over and bring yourselves even closer than before.
You stare up at him with a warm expression before casting your eyes downwards. You lift your hand to linger above his, the pads of your fingers brushing against the hairs on the back of his palm, "So, what happens now?"
Without breaking eye contact, he takes your hand in his while the other reaches for your waist once more. You let out a small yelp when he pulls you even closer, your bodies now touching and radiating the warmth you both thought you’d never be able to feel from one another.
The next few seconds are filled with bliss when he lowers his head to press his lips against yours. You’re immediately weak, letting go off his hand to place both on his shoulders as to support yourself.
The other now free hand of his comes to rest on your other hip, fingers digging into the fabric of your shorts ever so possessively. A whimper escapes from your mouth and Aaron takes the opportunity to deepen the kiss, doing so with so much fervor and passion that it leaves you feeling dizzy even with your eyes closed.
Aaron is relentless even after you pull away to catch your breath, the act of kissing you now something he’s inevitably hooked on. He presses kisses all over your face, from your cheek to your chin to your jaw, then all the way down to your neck.
“You know,” you cough out, flushed from the attention, “I told you how long I’ve liked you, but you didn’t tell me how long you’ve liked me.”
Aaron smiles into your skin, immediately recalling when he first realized his own feelings for you. He lifts his head to press a sweet kiss to your lips, eliciting a hum from you.
“I can tell you all the details over either a nice dinner tomorrow evening after we land,” he says, another kiss to your lips. He turns your bodies around so that his back was to bed, the mattress dipping under his weight when he sits. “Or you can spend the night here and we can stay up all night talking about it.”
His voice is sultry, and the way in which he grabs at your hips to get you to straddle him makes you flush.
“Are you already trying to seduce me?” you ask, mock offense in your tone though you happily take your guided seat on his lap, both knees on each side of his thighs.
Aaron hums this time, brushing your hair back to begin kissing at your neck again, “Can you blame me?”
He already knows your answer, he’s sure. He knows you can’t, because he can’t, either.
#aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner fic#aaron hotchner fan fiction#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner x fem!reader#aaron hotchner x you#aaron hotchner x y/n#aaron hotchner fluff#aaron hotch imagine#aaron hotchner drabble#criminal minds#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds x you#criminal minds fic#maddie writes
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Unknowingly, his | Aaron Hotchner
requested
MASTERLIST
pairing: Aaron Hotchner x fem liaison reader
summary: You never fail to make Hotch smile, even in hard times. One late night, when reader comes to his office to do some paperwork with him, he cannot help but catch himself staring at you and wondering if Hayley had the right to be jealous of you
cw: hints of jealous reader, mentions of jealous haley, divorce talk, cheating talk, mutual pinning my beloved <33
I do not consent to having my work translated or reposted to any other site. That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story!
It was 7 in the morning when you entered your dull office with an emphatic unambiguous ugh. You tossed your briefcase and jacket onto the leather couch to your right, closed the door behind you with your heel, walked over to the table and turned on the light. You did a good job rearranging everything last night, but the files you were supposed to audit for the day had already been put on your desk. Though, you needn’t to rush as the team had already gotten a new case when 20 minutes prior you received a call. At least you had already been prepared to come down to your office, all dressed up. The phone call came through just as you were to about to cross your doorstep.
Moaning, you picked up the phone, dialed the number and patiently held for a response. You despised this. After a month, the team had a day off and you weren't expected to have a heavy workload today (also, you could never take a day off when the rest of the team did), so the most noticeably awful thing to do on a day like this for you was to call them back in.
You played with a tangled cord of your telephone when a hoarse voice spoke, "Hotchner” on the other end of the call.
Great, you wondered, was he already awake or did you wake him up. You could name a handful of different better ways of doing so.
"Uh, hi, Hotch." You noticed it was slightly too sweet how you said it. It might have been your way to make the news more appealing, or maybe, his early morning voice made you melt. You could never be certain which is the one.
Before he spoke your name, he cleared his throat and you believed you heard a light peck against his lips and someone’s chuckle.
The butterflies in your stomach died in an instant. Another great thing you had to do this morning.
“I’m sorry if I’m interrupting anything,” you said with a wry smile, rolling your eyes, “but I’m afraid I don’t have good news.”
Silence.
It made you glance at the handset you were holding to your ear.
Oh, how you have ruined his day before it even began.
“I figured. Call the rest of the team. I’ll meet you there in 20.” And with that, he ended the call. You could already detect a sudden shift in his tone, could already see a familiar frown appearing on his face.
──────────────────────
It was late at night when you knocked at Aaron's office door. Most of the agents on the sixth floor of the building were already out. Aaron could hear your heels clicking against the floor, echoing in the space before you even entered the bullpen.
"Hey."
A frown was settled on his face as he sat in a large chair behind his desk, his red tie slightly askew on his white-collar shirt, his rolled-up sleeves revealing his bare forearm. You couldn't help but notice that his hair, too, was more disheveled than normal. You tilted your head. If you had the chance, you would stare at him like that for eternity.
When Hotch regarded you with a fleeting gaze and a quick 'come in' in response before resuming to his paperwork and forms, you entered his office with a gentle exhale.
There was no need for questions or instructions as you silently retrieved the documents from your side of the table once you had sat across him.
That was the schedule you used to follow regularly.
Every time a case ended, both of you had to come together and complete the paperwork. At times, you’d spend extra time working together into the late night until you both were barely able to keep your eyes open, whilst other times it didn't take as long. Even though some might argue that it was not the perfect scenario - staying up late with your boss - those times when you had to be silent and be in close proximity to him were calming and almost sufficient to fuel your bizarre attraction that began the moment you first laid eyes on him. It was constantly shifting, influenced by mood changes from both of you. You were never afraid to express your strong opinion even if it didn’t parallel his, never afraid to speak for yourself, but you were also the one that spent most time with him, knew him better than the rest of the team, even had the most in common. The team referred to you as Hotch’s soft spot (not to his knowing, of course). In spite of being one of the youngest members of the team, if another member messed something up, they’d hide behind you, ask you to talk some sense into Hotch. To him, you could never do wrong. He was always a little bit blind to your faults. And you, obviously, weren’t oblivious to that. Not that you took advantage of it, or to be quite frank never a serious one. You could notice how one look, one ‘Hotch?’, one ‘please?’ could make him easily change his mind no matter who stood on the other end of the topic. You still remember when Penelope first started working with the team, and the first time she saw you two together - you saw a ‘?!?’ above her head. She asked if you were the wife.
And then, on the other side, there was a wife. Hotch was married, and you knew his little family - Haley and their son, so you never thought about breaking that boundary. As such, you were very adept at playing the game of hot and cold when it came to Hotch. Even if he weren’t someone’s husband, there was still a bit of an age gap between the two of you, and let’s not forget Aaron Hotchner’s professionalism. He was your boss after all, and in all your mind, you just firmly believed Aaron would never allow himself such a thing.
While you filled out the forms, you noticed something quite different tonight. Hotch had complete trust in you, he was aware of where your loyalties laid. You'd been on the same team for a few years in a row now, during which he would occasionally sign certain documents prior to you completing them. However, tonight was different. Tonight, he appeared unenthusiastic about returning home early to maximize the limited time his job allowed him to spend with his family.
“What’s wrong?” You inquired, feigning ignorance of his eyebrows raising towards you.
He shook it off, replied with a stock ‘Nothing’.
Neither of you seemed to stop whatever you were writing down.
“We’ve spent way too much time together. If you think I wouldn’t notice,” you eyed him. “You are wrong, boss.”
Aaron’s eyes finally really met yours for the very first time tonight. He leaned back in his seat comfortably, arms resting on armrests. “Are you a profiler now?”
“I might be one,” you mused, leaning back in your seat, crossing your legs as you put your pen aside. “Perhaps I have picked up a few skills working with the best.”
He surveyed you, a smile playing in the corner of his lips.
Aaron Hotchner - the profiler - never misses anything.
“In any case, I believed we had agreed not to profile each other,” he spoke gently.
You expressed gratitude to God for that. Would he, then, realize the extent of a crush you had for him in those little moments and mood changes? Was he just as unaware of that as any other man even though Aaron Hotchner was not just any man? You, in rare cases of boredom, would wonder what he really thought of you. Did he think it was just your personality - being all flirty and smiley, with everyone?
“I’m not profiling you, Hotch.” You reassured him. “It’s just… Would you not ask me if I were fine if you’d noticed?”
“Yes, I would.”
“And you’d want me to tell the truth?”
He nodded slightly in response.
Your eyebrows snapped together. “Then?”
As soon as the thought of Haley came back into his mind, his expression fell serious, his smile faltered.
He couldn't believe that Haley could possibly be jealous of any of his colleagues. After being together for years, he believed she would have had more insight, would known him better than that. For months now, that had not been the case. They practically turned into strangers who occasionally had to share the same bed. Even though he didn't realize it then, after the final confrontation and some calm reflection, everything became clear. Although the very thought of losing Haley was unknown… painful.
That morning when y/n called him, the moment Haley was waking him up in bed with her kisses, he called out your name. They both got carried away in the heat of the moment, not realizing that the call was indeed coming at his work number.
He recalled the way she gazed at him then - disappointed more than anything else - she shook her head and pushed him aside, getting up from the bed and putting on her robe. After the call had ended, he wanted to explain to Haley but what she said to him petrified him.
“It's always work, and it's always her, and you always go running like a dog whenever she calls you!”
He was upset, offended. However, he was fully aware that Haley was determined to find a way to bring their relationship to an end, regardless of his actions, whether positive or negative.
Aaron remembered then the call to the home telephone which he had picked, but was welcomed with silence before that someone hang up on him. And then Haley's mobile rang. He knew. He knew then, in that shared gaze with Haley. But regardless of all that, Aaron wanted one more chance, at least for their son Jack, who needed a united family more than anything else.
“Haley and I are getting divorced.” He spoke, not realising you had been back to signing the documents whilst he was busy in his thoughts.
“What?”
That took you by a surprise. You would have never guessed it. Yes, you shared glances with the rest of the team while working on the last case, noticing how something bothered Hotch, how slightly distracted he was. You could have notice how quiet he was on your way back home in the jet, not engaging in a conversation with anyone, with you. Yes, you all have guessed he had an argument with Haley having to leave for work again when he’d finally had a day off, but divorce… No one believed the two of them would ever divorce.
“I’m so sorry, Hotch.”
“For a while it has been… different. I guess there’s nothing I could do about that now, nothing to change the situation we have gotten into.” He spoke as if though he hadn’t heard you, his dark eyes distant in a dim lighting. “I tried.”
You didn’t want to pry. You needed not to know what happened - their reason, whatever it might have been, was sufficient. You didn't believe it was Haley's fault, nor his fault. You could understand both of them. It was indeed a rather challenging one. Only a handful of individuals could understand the job you have chosen to do, sometimes it made you wonder if you’d ever find anyone that would.
Unless it was someone doing the same job, the chances were relatively small. Reid could give his statistics on this one, you’d remind yourself to ask.
“I know, Hotch.” You reached out instinctively, your hand over his, slightly squeezing. He did not move or flinch, his eyes shifting to where the contact was. The hand under your palm was warm, simultaneously rough and soft. His wedding ring was reverberating a tiny bit of coldness against your skin. “And I know you. I know you would never just quit. You don’t deserve this. And I’m really so so sorry.”
“I’m not ideal. Haley has every right. I’m more gone than present, more a boss than a husband.” He sighed, pondering. “My own marriage’s been in trouble and needed saving, but I wasn’t able to admit it and help myself, help us. I wonder how I still keep this job.”
“Don’t take it too hard on yourself, ok? It’s never just one side, but it does get better. I promise. At least that much I know of. If there’s anything I can do…”
“You are here. Listening.”
You once again felt noticed as his intense yet somehow gentlest of gaze met yours. You loved that about Aaron, the ways he could make you feel in just seconds - you could be all platonically giggly and flirty with him in one, but in the next moment when he would regard you with that look in his eyes, one word, one smile - the world would stop, you could only hear your heart beating, his presence only existing. And it scared you.
It should have been just a banal crush.
You withdrew your hand from his at the thought, clearing your throat to cover a moment that was… profound, finding sudden interest in the documents again. “I can complete this by the end of night, you can-“
“No.” He cut you off, sighing as the documents on his desk filled his sight again. “It’s fine. I don’t have anywhere to be in particular tonight. I have to finish this by morning…”
His brows raised once his eyes met yours again before he added, whispering. “And I could use some company.”
Or preferably, he could use your company.
“Ah, Strauss… The woman knows how to keep her employees in dislike of her.” You stated, averting your gaze from his eyes, taking another file from atop of others. “You should give her some tips.”
A soft chuckle escaped his throat, breaking the silent grimness that spread in the room.
“Since this is gonna be one hell of a night...” You put your hands on the armrests, ready to stand up. It was an attempt to run, reflect, calm down. “Anything you want me to get you?”
“Actually, I’m about to get some coffee. Would you like some?”
“Well, if we must finish all this work…” You nodded, eyes narrowing. “Yeah, we have to.”
“Ok.” He said in a soft-spoken manner, rising to his feet, and then pointed his finger at you in a manner similar to scolding a child. “But don’t doze off on me again. I’ll be right back.”
You put your hands up in defiance.
When he passed next to you, you followed him with your gaze out of the office. His perfume barely reached up your nostrils and you slumped in your seat, eyes closed, your breath shuddering.
That was close.
And about that… It wouldn’t be your first time. The team was amazed by your ability to fall asleep literally anywhere - desk, bench, floor, cinema, waiting rooms - you name it.
The first time Aaron found about this talent of yours was after the case. You went to check out of the hotel with the rest of the team, and while waiting for others in the lobby seated on a bar stool with your arms crossed, you fell asleep. He was quite taken aback, or rather impressed as well as everyone else, to see you dozing off while seated. On your way home, the team occasionally made jokes about it, but what stood out to you the most was that Hotch was also very engaged in them.
“Thank you.” He said once he returned to his office and put your cup of coffee before you.
You locked eyes with him, offering a small smile. “You are always very welcome.”
Taking a break from work, you took a sip. Just how you liked it. How attentive. Not that it was surprising. “And I suppose I should thank you.”
He lifted the cup in his hand to his lips but halted before taking a sip, his tongue gliding over his lips. You stared, hypnotized. “I’m sorry? Thank me for what exactly?”
“Yeah, you know…” Nervous, you offered him a report you’d just finished hoping he didn’t catch that. He reached forward to take it. “For indirectly acknowledging that seeing my name on your phone on a day off is not the most pleasant thing. I suppose I am bad news.”
“It’s a rather heavy subject, you know.” He replied in a professional tone, his eyes glued on the paper.
“Well, we’ve got all night.” You joked, throwing your hands in the air.
His eyes softened upon meeting yours once again. “I didn’t say that, and no, you aren’t.”
You lifted your brow at him. And then, there was that crooked grin on your face, teasing him to admit.
He observed you for a moment. “Sometimes, yes.” He succumbed to your will once again, before signing the report, concealing his own smile from you.
#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner x you#aaron hotchner x y/n#aaron hotch x reader#aaron hotch x you#aaron hotch x y/n#aaron hotchner imagine#aaron hotchner drabble#aaron hotchner oneshot#aaron hotchner#aaron hotch#i might turn this one into a slow burn series#like just some chapters here and there#criminal minds#criminal minds imagine#unknowingly series
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No Strings Attached
In which reader is on a mission to get her boss to relieve some stress, not realizing he'd end up doing the same for her.
Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x fem!bau!reader Genre: smut (18+) x fluff Content warnings: porn with plot, jessica and jack make an appearance, no mention of haley, hotch smiling (lol), reader being sad and a bit insecure bc she hasn't got laid in a while, mentions of drinking wine, no strings attached (but not really bc they're obsessed with each other), soft!dom hotch, praise, breast play, ass worship, oral (f receiving), p in v sex Word count: 4,7k A/n: first time writing a fic dedicated to Hotch and i fear i'm obsessed... also i had to do some acrobatics to make sure these positions work (they do) so give me a heart for the effort your feedback and support are highly appreciated!
Aaron Hotchner is a busy man. And these days, even more so. The responsibilities of being Unit Chief were always demanding, but they seemed to multiply now that he was balancing the weight of single parenthood as well.
As a profiler it was obvious to you how much he struggled with juggling between these professions, even though he always tried to hide it from the team. You noticed his slightly furrowed brow when he thought no one was watching, and the slow drag of his steps as he moved between meetings and paperwork.
Since you’d joined the team, you'd developed a deep respect for Aaron. Where others saw a hard-nosed, no-nonsense boss—a “drill sergeant” in Morgan’s words—you saw a man who held himself and his team to incredibly high standards because he believed in their potential. You saw a man who cared deeply, even when his personal life was slowly suffocating beneath the pressure of it all.
Even if he would never admit it, no human being can go through the difficulties he goes through without ever catching a break, without getting any help. So tonight, as you passed his office, a light still flickering inside, you decided to do something about it.
Your knuckle made contact with the door, knocking three times as you waited. When there was no immediate response, you quietly creaked the door open.
The sight of him behind the desk was familiar. His shoulders were hunched and his brows furrowed in concentration, as he scanned the endless stacks of paperwork that seemed to breed faster than he could handle them.
"Hey," you greeted softly, offering a small smile as you stepped into the room.
Hotch looked up from the pile in front of him, his gaze flicking from the documents to you. There was a slight exhaustion behind his eyes that he didn’t try to mask.
"Hey.” His eyes dropped to his wristwatch for just a moment, his lips curling into a subtle frown. "It’s late. Why haven’t you gone home yet?"
You waved off his concern. "I’m about to. Had to send a few more emails for the lab reports."
He nodded, but didn’t immediately return to his work. Instead, he watched you with that signature intensity of his, silently observing you.
"I- uh, I wanted to ask you something.” You hesitated for a moment as you moved further into the room, the door gently clicking shut behind you.
His brows rose slightly, an almost imperceptible shift of interest in his posture. "Go on."
You cleared your throat, your hands instinctively clasping behind your back. "You’ve been working a lot of late nights."
“That’s not a question.” He stated in an amused tone.
A small smile played on your lips. "I know, but it’s a… concern," you said. "And I was wondering if there was anything I could do to help you out."
He looked at you, his expression unreadable. His hands folded neatly in his lap, and he leaned back in his chair. It was hard to tell whether he was considering your offer or mentally debating the logistics of it.
"You want to help me out?" he asked, his voice tinged with confusion.
“Yes.”
Aaron grabbed a stack of papers, knocking them into a neat pile on his desk, then looked back at you. "So, this is something you’re interested in?" His tone was laced with amusement as he nodded down at the amount of paperwork in his hands.
You winced at the sight of it. "Uh... not exactly," you said, trying to keep your tone light. "I was thinking more along the lines of taking care of Jack," you added, raising your voice slightly on the last part, unsure of how he’d react to your suggestion.
His eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Taking care of Jack?"
"Yeah.” You met his gaze, trying to sound confident despite the uncertainty creeping in. "Just on the days we don’t have a case. I could go to your place and stay with him until you get home."
His eyes narrowed slightly. "You know Jessica’s there," he said, referring to his ex-sister-in-law who had taken on the role of taking care of Jack when he had to work.
“Don’t you think she deserves a break every once in a while?”
His expression shifted, becoming slightly defensive. "She offered to take care of him.”
"I know," you responded quickly, knowing he’d never force her into it. "But I’m offering too. I babysat all through university, I know what I’m doing."
He gave you a tight-lipped smile, his eyes flicking back to the papers in front of him. "That’s not necessary, but thank you," he said, his tone closing the conversation.
You weren’t ready to let it go yet. You stepped closer to his desk, hoping to draw his attention back. "Please? I want to help you."
He didn’t look up. "I don’t need any help," he stubbornly replied, his eyes still glued to the paperwork.
“Then let me put it this way,” you pressed on. "I want to help the team, because no offense, your stress is affecting all of us. And on top of that, I want to help Jack."
He glanced up at you, the wheels in his mind turning, and you showed him your best puppy eyes.
"Did you learn that from Reid?" he asked, a small smile tugging at his lips.
"Is it working?" you grinned back.
He chuckled breathlessly. "Alright, fine. One night. Let’s see how it goes."
You fought back a victorious grin. “Good. Just you wait, Hotchner. Once you see how great I am with kids, you’ll never let me go."
—
A week later, Hotch took you up on your offer. Jessica had a wedding to attend, and you’d agreed to look after Jack for the evening.
Though you’d spent plenty of time with Jack when he visited his dad at the office or at events outside of work, Hotch insisted on driving you to his place for a proper handoff.
He held the door open for you as you entered his apartment. You were immediately greeted by Jessica, dressed in a stunning outfit with a purse ready in hand.
"I’m late, I’m late!" she panicked, almost running as she headed for the door. But when she saw you, her demeanor softened.
“There’s my saving grace,” she said with a relieved smile. “Thank you so much for doing this.”
You waved her off with a grin. “It’s my pleasure. You look amazing, go have fun.”
She offered a final smile, then said her goodbyes to Hotch before quickly heading out.
“Hi, Dad!” Jack’s voice rang out as he bounced into the living room, his excitement palpable. You smiled, watching the little boy as he ran toward his father.
“Hey, buddy.” Hotch lifted him into his arms with a small groan. “You’re getting bigger every day.”
Your heart warmed at the exchange. Hotch was a completely different man when he was at home—more relaxed, more playful, the kind of father who carefully kept work and family separate.
He put Jack down, introducing you to him.
“I know who she is, Dad. We colored together. She’s really good at drawing Spider-Man.”
Hotch raised an intrigued eyebrow at you.
"I have more hidden talents than you know,” you playfully shrugged.
You turned to Jack, crouching down to his level. "Want to grab the crayons? We can make some more drawings."
Jack’s eyes lit up, and without hesitation, he scampered off in search of his favorite colors, calling over his shoulder, “I’ll find the red one!”
You chuckled at his enthusiasm and straightened up, turning back to Hotch. “You’ve got a sweet kid,”
Hotch’s eyes followed Jack as he rummaged through the drawer. There was pride in the way he looked at his son, but you could see the hint of anxiety that always seemed to lurk beneath the surface when it came to Jack.
You placed a reassuring hand on his arm, giving him a small, comforting squeeze. “He’s in good hands, Hotch. You don’t have to worry.”
He met your eyes, and for a brief moment, the weight of his responsibilities seemed to lift. His gaze softened with unspoken gratitude. “I trust you,” he spoke sincerely.
“Good.” You gave him a small smile and gave his bicep a final, reassuring pat. “Now get some work done. You might be able to make it in time for dinner.”
With a final glance at Jack, he turned to leave. The door clicked softly behind him, and you were left on your own with the mini version of him, who was already showing off his new crayons.
—
That evening marked the first of many. When you weren’t out on a case, you found yourself naturally heading to Hotch's after work—sometimes taking over from Jessica for the day or picking up Jack from school yourself. You often stayed well into the evening, even after Hotch came home, enjoying dinner together, playing games, or simply talking. There were even times where you stayed the night, sharing a quiet drink after putting Jack to bed. He’d insist you sleep in his bed while he took the couch. In the mornings, the three of you would share breakfast, with Hotch always ensuring the fridge was stocked with your favorite foods and knowing exactly how you liked your eggs.
You knew your colleagues would lose their minds if they’d ever find out, but for you, it never felt strange. It felt right. Comfortable. And whenever you were back on the field, you’d slip back into your professional roles—the accidental first-name slips the only sign of the bond you shared.
Being at their place made you realize how much your work had tangled itself into every aspect of your life. You’d moved away from family, struggled to maintain a personal life, and watched every attempt at dating falter because of your job. Despite how fulfilling your work at the BAU was, you’d forgotten just how deeply you craved a sense of belonging—a place where you were appreciated for more than just your professional skills or your ability to handle a weapon. Around Aaron and Jack, you could simply let go and be yourself.
Today was another day at the Hotchner house. You had spent the entire afternoon with Jack playing soccer in a nearby park until he was utterly exhausted, you practically had to drag him home. This time you didn’t mind though. Today has been a painful reminder of how single you were. The park had been filled with happy couples—some picnicking, some feeding the ducks, and others nervously sharing their first kiss.
You were grateful for how Aaron had allowed you to wiggle your way into his little family on days like these, but still it wasn’t yours. You still longed for one to call your own one day.
So, here you were—alone on the couch, watching a rom-com wishing you were starring in it, and finding comfort in the warmth of his house and the glass of wine in your hand.
You were so absorbed in the movie that you didn’t notice the door unlocking until Hotch stepped inside.
“Hey,” you greeted, reaching for the remote to pause the film.
“Don’t stop on my account,” he said, putting down his bag and hanging up his jacket. He loosened his tie and walked over to the couch, settling on the opposite end.
“Sorry, I opened a new bottle of wine”
He waved it off. “I’m glad that you did. It would’ve just collected dust on the shelf.”
You take another sip. “It’s a good one. Rossi’s?”
“You know it,” he replied with a soft smile, getting comfortable in the cushions as you put the movie back on.
The screen flickered with a romantic scene: a couple dancing in the rain, the male lead spinning the woman around in circles as they laughed.
“I miss that,” you murmured, a wistful smile tugging at your lips as you watched them.
Hotch glanced at you, a smirk forming. “It’s raining outside. Be my guest.”
You rolled your eyes, playfully dismissing the comment. “That’s not what I meant. Just look, Aaron,” you pointed at the TV, where the couple gazed at each other lovingly, before he pulled her in for a passionate kiss. “I don’t remember the last time someone looked at me like that.”
“Sometimes, I feel so desperate that I think about saying yes to the first guy who comes along, just to feel wanted again.”
Hotch straightened, concern flickering in his eyes. “You shouldn’t do that.”
“I know, Dad,” you teased, trying to ease the tension. “I’m unfortunately fully aware of the creeps out there.”
“On top of that, I’m not even sure anyone would take me up on it,” you added with a breathless laugh, your voice betraying a hint of vulnerability. “I haven’t exactly gotten much attention since joining the team. Maybe I’m not considered attractive anymore.”
“People can tell you know how to handle yourself,” he profiled. “Some find that intimidating. But you’re just as attractive—if not more so—than before you joined the team.”
You almost spilled your wine at his confession, the sudden heat in your cheeks betraying the flutter in your stomach.
“You don’t have to say that,” you mumbled, not wanting him to feel pity for you.
“Am I lying?” he asked, his voice steady. You met his gaze—his posture was open, his shoulders relaxed, and his eye contact was unwavering. It was textbook honesty.
“No,” you admitted quietly, feeling the truth of his words sink in.
“I don’t think you need some stranger or a serious relationship to get what you’re after.”
You blinked, not sure if you’d heard him right. “No?”
Hotch leaned in just a little, his voice lower now. “I think we could give each other what we need... without it being complicated.”
Your heart skipped, and you tried to process what he was suggesting. Your mind raced, the words hanging in the air between you.
“Are you suggesting a no-strings-attached relationship with me?”
He gave a small, wry smile. “I’m trying to be subtle about it, but it’s not going so well.”
You laughed, caught off guard, trying to mask your surprise as you saw the seriousness in his expression.
“How will this work?”
The corners of his lips lifted as you acknowledged thinking this through. “We would just… enjoy ourselves. Just when we’re here. Just when it’s the two of us.”
Enjoying yourself with Aaron Hotchner definitely wasn’t how you’d imagined this night going.
You stayed quiet, thinking it over. After a moment you slowly nodded your head. “Okay.”
“Are you sure?” he asked, waiting for confirmation.
“Yes. I am,” you responded, the words coming easier now.
You licked your lips nervously as he moved closer to you. His cologne enveloped you, making your pulse quicken.
As he continued gazing into your eyes, you decided it was your turn to make the next move. Carefully, you reached up to cup his cheek, feeling the slight roughness of his stubble against the palm of your hand. A small prayer passed through your mind, hoping you wouldn’t regret your next decision.
Then you kissed him.
The moment his lips met yours, the cliché of “fireworks” suddenly made sense—the feeling was intense, electric, a rush that left you breathless. His hands moved to the sides of your waist, pulling you closer. Before you could think, you were settled on his lap, the world around you narrowing to the heat of his touch.
A small, desperate whimper escaped you as his tongue brushed against yours. It had been so long since someone touched you this way—especially someone as strong and attractive as Aaron. You could feel his heartbeat beneath your fingertips as your hand slid over his chest, the other wrapping around his neck. He deepened the kiss, and the feeling was so overwhelming that it almost made you cry in relief.
He brushed his hands over the smooth curve of your waist and down the swell of your thighs, digging his fingers into the clothed skin.
Your soft moans were swallowed by your kisses, and you couldn’t help yourself as you moved your hips against his, feeling yourself get more aroused with each movement against the thin fabric of his slacks.
He let out a low grunt as you repeatedly rolled your hips against the hardening bulge in his pants. His large hands roamed up beneath your shirt, the warmth of his touch sending a shiver of anticipation down your spine. You placed your hands over his, ready to take your shirt off, but just as quickly his hands closed around your wrists, stopping you gently.
“Not here,” he warned. “Let’s move to the bedroom.”
His words sent a rush of desire to your core, and though your legs trembled, you stood from his lap and followed him across the room. As he moved, Hotch unbuckled his belt with one swift, effortless motion. You paused mid-step, breath catching at the sight of the leather coiled in his hand, hypnotised by how seductive the image looked. You blinked a couple of times to get out of your trance, before hurrying after him, your legs trying to catch up to his confident pace.
You stepped into the bedroom, moving until you stood at the foot of the bed as he locked the door behind you. A flutter of nerves stirred in your stomach at the reality of what was about to happen.
Hotch walked toward you, slowly closing the distance. His eyes were dark as they took you in with a look of pure lust—one you’d previously never seen on him.
“Turn around for me.”
Maybe it was because you were so accustomed to his authority in the field, or perhaps it was the undeniable fact that you'd let him do anything to you at this point, but without a second thought, you obeyed, turning your back toward him.
His hands reached out to rub over your shoulders in slow circles. You instinctively leaned into him, your eyes closing as you let yourself melt into the comfort of his touch. He presses in closer, his chin resting against your shoulder.
“What is it that you’ve been longing for?” His voice is a soft, sensual whisper, his breath warm against your skin.
A shaky breath escapes your lips as his hands delicately trail over your collarbones, carefully moving lower, inching toward your breasts. The moment his palms cup them, your nipples harden.
He hummed, still awaiting a response.
“You,” you whispered back, your voice barely audible through the thick need.
You feel the faint curve of a teasing smile against your skin. “You already have me,” he murmured. “Tell me how I can make you feel good.”
His thumbs flick over your nipples, and you arch your back into him, feeling the solid press of his body against yours, the hardness in his pants meeting you once again.
“It’s been a while since-” your words dissolve into a moan as his fingers pinch your nipples.
“Since what?” he teased, his lips tracing the curve of your neck, each kiss setting your skin alight.
You swallowed. “Since… since someone’s gone down on me.”
“Is that so?” he hummed, the sound rich with interest. His tongue slides up your neck, before turning it into a kiss.
“Aaron, please,” you begged, grinding your hips into him.
“How can someone like you have been deprived of pleasure for so long?” he thought out loud, and he finally grabbed the material of your shirt, pulling it over your head.
His hands glide softly over your back, before he unclasps your bra with one smooth motion. Your breasts spill free, and he immediately cups them in his hands, holding them as if he wants to keep you warm and covered. The pleasure is even more delicious now that the contact is skin-to-skin.
His hands roam over your stomach, until he reaches the button of your pants, undoing it. He sinks to his knees behind you, his fingers curling around the waistband of your pants and panties, easing them down. A low curse escapes him as the fabric slides over your ass and down your thighs, revealing more of you inch by inch.
You held onto his shoulder for support, as he steadied your leg, guiding you to step out of your pants. The second he tossed the fabric to the side, he placed his hands steadily on your thighs, leaning in to press a heated kiss to your ass. You let out a moan, bucking forward, but he holds you firmly in place as his lips trail wet, lingering kisses over your cheeks.
“Place your knee on the bed for me,” he tenderly instructs.
You followed his order, lifting one knee onto the bed, your upper body arching slightly as it hovers just above the mattress. The cool air brushes over your exposed pussy as you’re displayed in front of him.
A loud moan leaves your mouth, as his tongue makes contact with your folds. The pressure is just right, each flick of his tongue drawing a sharp gasp from you as he licks up and down in a deliberate rhythm.
“You taste like heaven,” he groans, the deep rumble of his voice vibrating through you as he speaks, “dripping down your thighs already.” His lips trail lower, and he laps up the wetness that has gathered on your inner thighs, his stubble tickling against your sensitive skin. You grip the sheets, desperate for something to hold on to.
Aaron’s tongue returns to your pussy, the tip of it firmly pushing inside, curling upward as he slides in and out, hitting all the right spots, sending waves of pleasure through you. Each thrust makes you cry out.
You let out a small whine as his tongue retreats, pressing a delicate kiss to the tender skin. “Don’t get me wrong,” he starts, licking his lips clean, “I love hearing you, but you can’t be too loud.”
You silently nodded, your breath hitching as his finger unhurriedly traced your sensitive folds. Just as he was about to enter you, you stopped him.
“I- I need your cock,” you whined, your hips pushing back toward him, desperate for more.
“Yeah? You need it that bad?” he teased, as he rose to his feet behind you.
You crawled onto the bed, glancing back at him. His lips still glistened with the trace of you, and his eyes were locked onto yours, filled with predatory focus.
“I need it, Aaron,” you repeated, biting your bottom lip as your gaze lingered on the hard outline of his length pressed against his thigh.
He groaned, his hands quickly pulling at his tie, tossing it aside before he began unbuttoning his shirt. His movements were confident—like a private performance just for you. You leaned back on your arms, your feet planted on the bed, allowing him to see just how much he was making you ache for him.
As he removed his shirt, the muscles in his broad shoulder flexed, and the trail of dark hair down his stomach led your eyes straight to what you craved.
He wasn’t shy as he pulled his pants down, eager to show you just how worked up you’d made him. His length stood hard, the tip flushed red and glistening with precum. You instinctively pressed your thighs together, giving you a soft release of tension.
He joined you on the bed, lying on his side and pulling you flush against his chest, spooning you. His lips crashed into yours in a deep, hungry kiss, his groans vibrating against your mouth. His hand explored your front, squeezing your breasts, while his arousal pressed insistently against your ass.
You moaned, your leg draping over his as you shifted, opening yourself up to him. He reached down, gripping his length, positioning it against you before slowly pushing inside, stretching you inch by inch.
You took a sharp breath, adjusting to the feel of him inside you. His cock throbbed, as if begging for you to move. Slowly, you rolled your hips, taking more of him in, and Hotch’s low growl rumbled in your ear.
“That’s it,” he praised, his voice rough with pleasure. “Taking me so well.”
He was fully inside you now, filling you completely, and his hand slid down to your exposed clit, his fingers moving in slow, rhythmic circles. His thrusts matched the pace, deep and deliberate.
Every movement sent shockwaves through your body, your breath quickening as the familiar knot of pleasure tightened in your stomach.
“I’m close, Aaron,” you whimpered, and he moaned in response, placing soft kisses along your jaw before sucking at your neck, marking you.
His fingers moved faster, pushing you closer to the edge, and your body twitched as your orgasm crashed over you. His arms held you tight, anchoring you as the sensations slowly subsided.
When he withdrew his hand from your clit, it slid down to your knee, bending your leg to spread you even wider. Without warning, he began pounding into you, the sudden change in speed making you cry out, a high-pitched moan escaping your lips.
“Be quiet for me. Don’t make me tell you again,” he warned. You involuntarily moaned at the way he commanded you, and he grunted in response.
With a swift motion, he flipped you onto your stomach, your body pressed flat against the bed. A sharp gasp escaped you as he grabbed your thighs, lifting them to raise your ass in the air, before entering you again.
One hand pressed firmly into your shoulder, holding you down, while the other gripped your hips, forcing you to meet each of his thrusts. The new position did its job—your moans were muffled into the pillow, leaving only the wet slap of skin and the sound of Hotch’s deep, guttural grunts with each push of his hips.
“They're so stupid for not wanting you,” he groaned. “You have me now. I’ll give you everything you want.”
Your heart fluttered at his words. After feeling this, you knew you wouldn’t ever be satisfied by anyone else. You would want no one but him.
“I’m going to come inside of you,” he breathed, bending over so his chest pressed against your back, his warmth enveloping you.
“Oh-“ Your breath caught as the sensation in your core tightened again. “Yes, please. Inside of me, please.” You couldn’t form a full sentence as the heat inside of your core builds up again.
He reaches under you to touch your clit, and the instant his fingers make contact, you come undone. Your legs tremble, giving way beneath you as the rush of pleasure takes over. Hotch pushes into you two more times before you feel him spill inside, the sensation sending you into another, deeper orgasm.
He presses soft, tender kisses to your shoulder, his breath warm against your skin as he whispers in your ear, “I’m sorry I got a little carried away.”
You hum in satisfaction, a pleased smile tugging at your lips. “I’m glad you did.”
—
You weren’t sure what time it was, but you had a quick shower together—Hotch giving you one more orgasm—and were now laying in bed, your clean bodies tangled under his sheets.
“Will you stay the night?” he asked softly, pressing a kiss to the back of your hand as he held you close.
It was endearing how gentle and shy he sounded, a stark contrast to what the two of you had just shared.
“Only if you promise to not move to the couch,” you mumbled sleepily, your voice heavy with exhaustion.
“I wouldn’t dare.”
You turned your head to him, noticing the quiet that had settled between you both.
“What is it?” you asked, tracing absent patterns to his skin.
He hesitated for a moment before speaking. “I was thinking… maybe we can attach those strings a bit more.”
You chuckled. “Maybe,” you playfully teased, pressing a final kiss to his lips.
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stuck
summary: stuck inside an elevator with your boss, aaron hotchner, isn’t what you had in mind when you left work late. perhaps, you can get your supervisor to relax just a little. SFW
tags: minor blood, stuck inside an elevator
pairing: hotch x reader
word count: 3k
a late birthday fic for muffin <3
“Alright, goodnight Hotch. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Are you sure you’re going to be alright?”
“Hotch, it’s late. I’m tired. It’s hotter than hell outside. Trust me, when I tell you that all I need is some late night takeout, a shower, and eight hours of uninterrupted sleep.” You let out a short laugh. “I’ll be fine.”
He nods in farewell; offering a tired, albeit, tight smile before parting ways and moving toward his SUV a few spots down from your sedan. It had been a long day, and an even longer evening. The rest of the team had gone home hours ago, but Hotch had volunteered to stay behind and help you on your case report. Your skin bristles at the thought of the last 72 hours and you feel the tension pulling each one of your muscles as you reach into your purse and feel for your keys. After a few seconds of rifling around, your brow knits together when you don’t come across the key fob.
Releasing an exasperated sigh, your shoulders slump. “Dammit.”
“Everything okay?” Hotch asks, pausing after opening his car door.
You incline your head and wave a hand through the air. “Yeah, I just left my keys on my desk.”
A car door slams and the sound of Hotch’s footsteps echo as he moves towards you. “I’ll walk with you.”
You blow out a breath and wave him off. “No, go home. It’s just going to be a few extra minutes. Go see Jack.”
“He’s with his aunt until tomorrow evening, then hopefully I’ll get to spend the entire weekend with him before duty calls.” He gestures towards the elevator. “It’s no trouble, really,” he insists.
You can’t help but feel like a nuisance, but you don’t argue any further. A humid breeze blows through the parking garage and thunder rumbles off in the distance. Hotch presses the button to summon the elevator and as the gears rumble to life both of your cells start pinging.
Hotch reaches into his pants pocket as you reach into your purse. You both check your cells where a severe thunderstorm warning flashes across the screen.
“Hotch, really, you can go.”
Hotch arches a brow, sparing you a look that says not-a-chance as the doors open. “Come on, if the weather kicks up before we get back down, I’ll drive you home.”
He stretches an arm out to hold the door and you reluctantly step inside, accepting that he’s not going to leave.
You push the button for the ninth floor and cross your arms over your chest. “My car can handle a little rain, Hotch.”
He blows out a breath and shakes his head. “With the weather they’re calling for, your car will become a boat.”
“Careful, Hotch. That was almost a joke.”
A smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth, but he doesn’t reply.
The elevator pings as you ascend higher and higher. By the time the elevator crawls past floor four the sound of rain pounding against the building echoes inside the elevator.
“Damn,” you curse quietly. “I can only imagine what 95 is going to look like with this going on.”
“I’m sure it’ll—” A loud clap of thunder explodes outside, cutting Aaron off.
You startle, gasping loudly and feeling yourself immediately flush red with embarrassment. Your eyes flicker over to Hotch and he looks calm and collected, unshaken by the burst of sound.
Suddenly, the lights go out and the elevator screeches to a halt, throwing you off balance. You stumble as the elevator rocks violently and in your heels, you’re unable to catch yourself before you fall forward and hit your head against the wall; dropping your purse and scattering its contents in the process.
Pain splits your brow and your hand flies to your forehead. Blood, sticky and wet, trickles into your eye and you wince. The emergency lights kick on as you and Hotch both collect yourselves and stand.
“Are you ok?” Hotch asks.
“I hit my head.”
“Here, let me take a look.”
His hand curls under your arm as he uses the other to tilt your chin up. His eyes are hard in the dim red light.
“I can’t tell how deep it is in this lighting.” He presses his lips together and reaches for his cell. “Dammit!”
“Let me guess,” you say. “No signal.”
He snaps his phone shut. “None, what about you?”
“My entire life is on the floor right now,” you quip, gesturing at the ground.
“Right, sorry.” His eyes scan the ground and quickly locate your phone. He scoops it up and after flipping it open, he shakes his head with an exasperated sigh.
“Well,” you reply. “Guess we better make ourselves comfortable until the generators kick in.”
You kneel down and begin sweeping your belongings toward you. Hotch crouches and helps you without asking.
“Let’s at least see what you might have that I can use to help clean it up and stop the bleeding.”
“Oh yeah, let me just reach into my Mary Poppins bag here and pull out an EMT’s jump bag.”
He aims a hard look at you that he usually reserves for whenever Penelope makes a comment that teeters the line with HR.
“I’m the one with my head split open, I think I’m allowed to be sarcastic right now.”
Hotch breathes out sharply. “Split open, that’s a tad dramatic, don’t you think?”
“Two zingers in a row, Hotch. I’m impressed.” He shakes his head but even in the dim lighting, you don’t miss the smile on his lips. He picks up a couple of items and hands them to you. “Here’s your,” he pauses to examine the items in his hand. “Lipstick and tampons.”
A furious heat races to your cheeks as you snatch them out of his hand and shove them in your purse.
“Wait, give me one of those. I can use it to stop the bleeding.”
“Hotch, I’m not giving you a tampon.”
He levels you with another hard stare and when he says your name, you can hear the amusement in his voice. “It’s either that or your sweater, and I know that was a gift from JJ on your birthday. Besides, I was married for a long time. I’m not embarrassed by tampons or pads. You know I keep a supply in my desk, right?”
Your brow pinches, but a smile plays about your face. “Ok, I’ll bite,” you say as you pass him one. “Why?”
He pauses before tearing open the packaging. “You wouldn’t happen to have any hand sanitizer in there, would you?”
It takes you seconds to find the mini Purell inside your handbag and pass it to him. He squeezes some into his hands and scrubs it over his skin. “One time, Penelope dropped a file off in my office. She was in a rush and not acting like herself. I could tell she was stressed.” He tears open the plastic and pushes the cotton portion of the tampon out of the applicator. “I asked her if she was okay and boy, was that the wrong question to ask.” Hotch turns his head, looking around. “Ah, thought I saw that.” He scoops your half finished water bottle off the ground and pours a small bit of water onto the cotton to break it up. After working it into a small square, he gently presses it against the split in your brow. You wince and he apologizes. “She burst into tears and told me that her cycle had snuck up out of nowhere and she was unprepared and needed to run to the drug store. I told her not to worry and that I’d go for her. I’d forgotten to ask what exactly she wanted me to get, so I bought a little of everything. She took what she needed and I told her that I’d keep the rest in the lower left drawer of my desk in case an emergency ever arose again.”
“Hotch, that’s actually really sweet.”
He feigns a pained look, eyes crinkling at the corners. “Your use of the word actually cuts pretty deep, you know?” He lifts the makeshift bandage and inspects the injury. “It’s still bleeding. I’m afraid you might need stitches.”
You blow out a breath. “Great, and what do I tell them? Hey, I fell face first into an elevator panel. Patch me up!”
Hotch chuckles and applies more pressure to the wound. You hiss and again, he apologizes.
“It’s okay,” you say and realize this is probably the closest you’ve ever been to your supervisor. In fact, from this angle you notice just how long and thick his dark lashes are; the way his coffee colored eyes glimmer in the low lighting.
Holy shit, what are you thinking? That’s your boss you’re ogling.
“It’s hot.”
You blink out of your momentary stupor. “I’m sorry, what?”
“In here,” Aaron answers.
“Well yeah, the AC is out with the power. What do you think is taking the generators so long to kick in?”
Hotch’s brow furrows as his eyes flick about the space. “I’m not sure. It’s highly unusual though.”
You shrug out of your sweater and take over holding the makeshift bandage against your forehead, your fingers brushing against his hand as you do so. Bunching your sweater into a ball, you place it behind you and lie back.
Hotch laughs awkwardly. “What are you doing?”
“It seems like we’re going to be stuck here awhile, might as well make myself comfortable.”
He pushes himself to his feet and presses the emergency call button. You’re not shocked when the only response is static. You watch as he paces, pushing the button every few minutes.
“This is where Reid would say something like ‘the definition of insanity is trying the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result.’”
Hotch tucks his hand against his belt and pushes his suit jacket back with his other fingers. It's a gesture you’re all too familiar with, the one he uses when he’s exasperated. He swipes at the perspiration beading on his forehead with his opposite sleeve.
“So, what, we just wait?”
A smirk pulls at your lips. This shouldn’t amuse you as much as it does, especially given the fact that you have a head injury and probably need to get checked out.
“What’s so funny?”
“You’re so,” you hedge, searching for the word, “high strung.”
Hotch’s brow climbs toward his hairline. “Excuse me?”
Did you hit a nerve? It was a fairly bold statement to make. Situation be damned, he was still your boss. “I don’t know, Hotch.” You release a short laugh. “You can’t really be in control all the time, can you?”
“Doesn’t this team have an agreement to not profile each other?”
You roll your eyes and prop yourself up on an elbow, wincing as pain pulses behind your eye. Hotch’s lips part as he instinctively moves toward you and you wave him off. “It’s not about profiling, Hotch, look at you. Stop trying to solve everything all the time and just say ‘hey, this shit sucks!’”
He holds your eye for a moment, his expression unreadable.
“You’re right,” he says. He shrugs out of his suit jacket and drops onto the floor beside you. “This shit sucks.”
You smile and he returns one. It looks good on him. It’s something he doesn’t do often enough.
“Let me check your head.” He leans forward and you let him inspect the gash in your forehead. “I think the bleeding stopped.” Placing his palm against your jaw, he tilts your head toward the red emergency lights. “Everything looks,” his eyes glimmer and drop to linger on yours. “Fine.”
Your lips part, but you don’t find words. Has Hotch ever looked at you like this? Well, that implies he's looking at you a certain type of way. You clear your throat and Hotch drops his hand.
“Sorry,” he whispers.
The words are out of your mouth before you can think. “Are you?”
He says your name then, barely a whisper. He’s so close, close enough for you to smell his aftershave. You feel your heart rate begin to pick up, pulse pounding in your ears. Hotch’s chin dips and his lips are a hair's breadth away from yours. Before anything can happen, the elevator’s gears suddenly grind to life. The sudden jolt of movement causes your foreheads to bump together and you groan as pain splinters behind your eye.
Hotch immediately apologizes and holds your face in his hands, making sure the minor collision didn’t reopen the wound that had barely stopped bleeding as is.
Your hand reaches up to cup his against your cheek and you meet his concerned eyes. “I’m fine, Hotch.”
He holds your gaze for a moment before dipping his head. “Okay,” he says tightly. “Okay, let’s get you up. There’s a first aid kit in the break room.” He grabs hold of your forearm and loops an arm around your waist before helping you to your feet. You stumble as you rise to your full height, your blood not yet having the chance to properly circulate through your body.
Hotch’s grip tightens around your waist and you place a steadying head against his chest; fingers splayed against the muscular plane beneath the fabric of his dress shirt.
Only when the elevator dings, signaling your arrival at the 9th floor do you remember that it's your boss with his arm around you right now. You startle apart and laugh awkwardly.
“Here, let me—” His voice trails off as he drops to a crouching position and sweeps the remaining items of yours off the floor along with his jacket and your sweater.
You walk in semi-comfortable silence, letting Hotch lead the way to the break room. When you arrive, you let him pull out a chair for you and take a seat. He moves quickly, rummaging through cabinets until he locates the first aid kit. He sits opposite from you and opens the white box. After pulling on a pair of disposable gloves, he makes quick work of opening several gauze pads. He squeezes rubbing alcohol onto the gauze and apologizes in advance.
“It’s going to sting,” he cautions as he begins cleaning the area around the wound and the blood that had dripped down your cheek.
“I’m a big girl, Hotch. My dad cleaned my skinned knees when I was a kid.”
Hotch chuckles, and it rumbles low in his throat. “I certainly hope you don’t see me as your father.”
You nearly choke on your own spit and feel a furious heat blossom across your face. Hotch sees this and the smile stays plastered on his face. He presses the alcohol soaked cotton to the wound.
You hiss at the contact and dig your nails into your palms. “Fuck!” you curse, though it’s mixed with sharp laughter. “I don’t remember it stinging that much!”
Hotch laughs as he apologizes and works as quickly as he can to clean the affected area. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” He finishes up and applies two butterfly bandages, which effectively close the gash. He discards the gloves and soiled gauze. After washing his hands, he uses a disinfectant wipe to sanitize the table and replaces the first aid kit in the cabinet.
“Efficient, as always.” You observe.
“I’ll have to fill out an incident report,” he says as he wipes his hands on his pants.
“Yeah, but that can wait until Monday.”
Hotch presses his lips together, not liking the sound of that.
“Oh, come on Aaron!”
His brow quirks. “Aaron? You never call me by my first name.”
You smile and gesture toward your forehead. “Head injury, I don’t know what I’m talking about.”
“It’s nice,” he says, a dimple in his cheek on show as he smiles. His expression shifts immediately towards worry. “Though, you might actually have a mild concussion. We should probably get you to a doctor.”
You wave him off. “A doctor is just going to tell me to rest, take ibuprofen, don’t sleep the first night, et cetera, et cetera…Frankly, I’d rather avoid the bill.”
“There's a protocol for this…paper work, workers comp.”
You slap your hands against your thighs. “Fine!” you relent. “Let’s go!”
Hotch smiles, relief evident on his face. “I’ll grab the paperwork.” You scoop your sweater and purse into your arms as he dashes out of the break room.
As you make your way back toward the elevator, Hotch joins you. “Forgetting something?”
Your eyes widen and you feel like you could smack yourself. “My keys!”
Hotch tucks the manila envelope under his arm and fishes around in his pocket, withdrawing your key ring with a cheeky grin on his face. You quickly grab them out of his hand and shove them into your purse. “The whole reason I’m in this mess,” you grumble.
You slap the button to summon the elevator just as thunder crashes outside once more. You and Hotch exchange a look. “On second thought, why don’t we just take the stairs?”
“Good idea,” Hotch agrees.
As you descend the nine flights of stairs, you can’t help but think of the long night you’re about to be in for. When you reach the parking garage, you can smell the rain in the air. You press the button to unlock your car.
“What are you doing?” Hotch asks. “No way, I’m taking you to the hospital.”
“Hotch, I’m going to be there all night.”
“Okay, so I’ll buy you breakfast in the morning.”
You freeze and Hotch does too. For a minute you just stand there holding each other’s gaze and in that moment, you both know something has fundamentally changed between the two of you. What that change is, neither of you can tell; but something in your gut tells you it’s a change for the better and you can’t wait to find out more.
#criminal minds#aaron hotchner#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds fic#aaron hotch fanfiction#aaron hotchner criminal minds#aaron hotch fic#aaron hotchner headcanons#aaron hotch x reader#aaron hotch imagine#aaron hotchner fanfiction#aaron hotchner fic#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner drabble#aaron hotch hotchner#aaron hotchner comfort#aaron hotch x you#aaron hotchner x you#aaron hotchner x fem!reader#aaron hotchner x bau!reader#aaron hotchner x y/n#aaron hotch fluff
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AUGUST REC FICS
Hello, my sweets!! Here I am, once again, for yet another month of reading and living vicariously through our one and only Reader. I haven't read much this past month, and most of these sweet authors are people I follow (and shockingly, some are my mutuals, too !!! I'm too much of a fangirl to believe it's true). Give these gorgeous, spectacular writers a ton of love. They all deserve it so much, considering they're blessing us with such amazing work for free. Like. Comment. Reblog. The equivalent of a five-star review
Like always, I will be going based on what I've read recently and not by the date the fic was posted. Reminder to please respect these writers. Some contents are 18+. MINORS should not be interacting in any way.
— ✿ — ✿ ✿ — ✿ ✿ ✿
Spencer Reid
✿ a muted shade of green by @dalamjisung ↳ the flow of this fic was so smooth my jaw dropped down on the floor as i read through (writer's first reid fic, and it was chef's kiss)
✿ hearts aligned by @raekensluver ↳ OMG this one had me melting. roommate spencer is such a dream
✿ sick love by @misserabella ↳ guilty pleasure unlocked. a wonderful reading session filled with interesting discoveries
✿ behind closed doors by @incognit0slut ↳ i loved binging this so much !!! was a giggling, kicking mess while reading this one; and it has four parts ! we're so spoiled
✿ kiss it better by @nereidprinc3ss ↳ tmi but was having an episode of mild anxiety attack, and this saved me in the middle of the night, giggling myself to sleep, so thank you for such amazing work x
✿ dead of night & nightvisions by @cxrrodedcoffin ↳ lol i read this at work and had to fight battles not to make any facial signs that i was consuming kinky content. the second part was another level, i was cackling like a witch
✿ much ado about nothing: act iii, scene v & act iv, scene i by @incognit0slut ↳ act iii, scene v left me speechless, reader didn't fold and i took that as a win. act iv, scene i played with my emotions lol
✿ just a number by @reidsdaisies ↳ i became a stand-up actress while reading this because it's overwhelmingly spicy and filled with tension i had to provide comedic relief for myself
✿ untittled req response by @mandarinmoons ↳ no because i saw my reblog post of this and i immediately snorted and then laughed some more after rereading it. pipe cleaner will never not be funny to me
✿ poison me, i'm fine by @gghostwriter ↳ no because this one needs more attention ?????????????? i loved reading this so much i was so tempted to pull my heart out and ship it to pau, show how crumpled it was after reading
✿ my best colors for your portrait & my face in every place by @none-of-your-bullshit ↳ i wasn't lying when i said august is for angst and i immediately gobbled this up after seeing it. the way my chest was so tight but also smiling because the writing style is amazing got me looking like a lunatic
✿ cute, outraged genius by @lavenderspence ↳ tina got me laughing like a gremlin. it's so adorable she made me fall in love with spencer all over again
✿ another untitled req response by @mandarinmoons ↳ sorry, sweethearts, ket just couldn't be bothered with titles lmao. secret lover reader is my favorite lover, sooooo you all will enjoy this cutie patootie creation
✿ one single thread of gold by @gghostwriter ↳ you'll overdose of sweetness. it's so adorable and a great way to feel giggly about spencer reid.
✿ for the fear of falling apart | part one by @pathologicalreid ↳ i haven't read the rest of the parts but mhmmm this was DELISH. well-written creation that made me show emotions while reading at work. my coworkers asked me my my eyes were so wide and i think that says a lot at how great this is
✿ second to none by @raekensluver ↳ ooooo this one got my blood boiling in a good way
✿ untitled work by @sincerelybubbles ↳ adorable stuff make me melt especially when it's a spencer one
— ✦ — ✦ ✦ — ✦ ✦ ✦
Aaron Hotchner
✦ darling, in any life series by @hotchfiles ↳ at this point are we even surprise im including yet another series form lari here ? anywayyy, i love me some old flame trope
✦ picket fence dream by @hotchfiles ↳ this is a new part from the choiceless hope series and i gobbled it up. i was screaming when i read this
✦ tells by @ssahotchnerr ↳ first thing i read in the morning, and i sobbed from the overwhelming sweetness
✦ silver by @solardrop ↳ okay but this was so adorable ??? plus im def one of those gals who tried to throw herself on him, maybe even catapult myself
✦ sympathy for the devil by @hotchfiles ↳ nosebleed. spice level is not as high as i make it seem but the writing really got me sweating. just read it, you'll understand what i mean
✦ spending time with you by @lavenderspence ↳ no because TINA CALLED ME OUT WITHOUT CALLING ME OUT. i was slightly offended. the gasp i gasped was so loud asdkfnkg. but it is adorable, go read it pls pls
✦ doctor, love by @none-of-your-bullshit ↳ i love when reader slaps the character with some reality like a seasoned raw steak.
sorry, not sorry if this post is filled with lari. I reread her works religiously, so here are my favorites from hers truly:
✦ help me hold onto you ↳ oh, this is like crack for me, and i always come crawling back no matter how hard i try to stay sober
✦ half asleep takin' chances ↳ still waiting for future aaron somewhere out there
✦ choices ↳ gonna be honest with everyone this one makes me wanna deck aaron hotchner and then deck reader for folding so easily and also deck myself because im no better than reader
✦ quis ut deus? & daniel 12:1 ↳ my fave series from lari and i will never not reread them over and over and over and over again because i love it so much idk what's the appeal on me but i love it and i want this framed and buried with me even if it's unfinished
I haven't had a lot of time to visit the good ole "for you" feed in a while, so I apologize for missing all the amazing work every writer has put out this month. I will make it up to you, I promise! And if you'd like, you can send me works or mention me so I can read certain creations that you deem noteworthy for the next rec fic month!
love lots, ker x
#spencer reid#aaron hotchner#criminal minds#criminalminds#ssa spencer reid#cm#dr spencer reid#doctor spencer reid#spencer reid criminal minds#spencer reid angst#spencer reid blurb#spencer reid drabble#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid one shot#spencer reid series#spencer reid smut#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#aaron hotchner fic#aaron hotch fanfiction#aaron hotch fic#aaron hotch x reader#aaron hotch x you#aaron hotchner smut#aaron hotchner fluff#ssa aaron hotchner#agent aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner criminal minds#aaron hotch hotchner
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“hungover” - hotch x fem!reader
after a girls’ night in, you wake up next to your boyfriend.
1380 words - FLUFFY FLUFF
cw; mentions of alcohol and food, implied age gap?, typical hangover, jemily agenda (sry not sry)
a/n: I wrote this on my phone on vacation bc I have a serious problem
———————
The first thing you notice when you wake up is that you are not in your clothes.
You aren’t in your clothes. And you only realize it because of the scent wafting up your nose. Sea Salt Breeze - the cologne you’d gotten him for Christmas last year - emanates from the t-shirt that envelopes your upper half. You dip your chin for another whiff, breathing him in deeply. You want the smell inscribed into your brain.
You feel the bed dip and creak and you instinctively shut your eyes, playing possum as Aaron pads into the bathroom. The door whines as he shuts it most of the way, not totally closing it because he thinks you’re still asleep and that the sound of the door shutting will wake you.
Each of your senses turns on one at a time, like your brain waves run on dial-up Internet. You open your eyes and the room is mostly dark, save for the sliver of light creeping in through the outline of the curtains. You run the palm of your hand along Aaron’s sheets and marvel over how soft they are - Egyptian cotton, he’d told you once before.
Your head hurts, but only mildly. You’d certainly been drunker before, but last night was still up there. Penelope made her mojitos strong.
You slowly sit up in the bed as Aaron opens the door, flicking the bathroom light off in the same motion. Your eyes meet his and he cracks a small smile. “Thought you’d still be asleep,” he muses. You love his pale blue boxers and seeing the hair on his legs. His calves are crazy defined - he’s a runner, after all, but still. You rarely see him in anything but a suit and tie, so it’s always a treat. “I didn’t wake you, did I?”
You shake your head, wincing slightly at the movement. Maybe you’re a little more hungover than you thought. “I was already awake,” you mumble, running a hand over your face. “Did you put me in your own clothes last night? I have pajamas in my drawer,” you point out, gesturing to the second drawer of Aaron’s dresser, the one that contains your set of pajamas, a few spare pairs of underwear, and a couple of emergency outfits, just in case you end up sleeping over at his place.
It happens more often than not, so you keep the drawer decently stocked at all times.
“You insisted,” Aaron climbs into the bed, reaching for you. He tugs you to him and you roll over onto your side, and then halfway onto your tummy so that your leg drapes over his and your palm rests flat on his chest.
You can hear his heart beating. It’s like a metronome, steady and guiding and calm. You feel his pointed chin nuzzle into your hair and then, his lips, quick yet effective, against your forehead.
Flashes of last night run through your head. You, Emily and JJ, over at Penelope’s apartment. A symphony of girlish giggles, talking about Emily and JJ’s upcoming wedding date, drinking at least three pitchers of mojitos among the four of you. Watching Dirty Dancing and gabbing the entire time, realizing it’d be a bad idea to drive yourself home, and calling Aaron to come get you.
When he arrived, you called him Hotch and apologized for him having to come get you, and he reminded you that he was Aaron and he was your boyfriend and he would pick you up anytime you needed it. You were determined to play the Dirty Dancing soundtrack on the ride home, fumbling with his phone until you found it.
You belted out (I’ve Had) The Time of My Life and demanded Aaron sing along. He admitted that he didn’t know all the words and you gave him a stern lecture until you started laughing so hard that you were in tears. Traffic lights reflected Christmas ornament colors in Aaron’s brown eyes as he drove, occasionally glancing over at you.
You swore you saw the corners of his mouth twitch into a smile as you berated him for not knowing the words to such a classic song.
And then, once you were back at his place, you sat on the edge of the bed and stared at your shoes dumbly until Aaron offered to help you take them off. “Laces too hard,” you mumbled, and Aaron just hummed in agreement before kneeling down to help you.
And then he helped you out of your clothes. He went for your drawer, and you threw a pillow at him. “The college t-shirt,” you demanded with these Bambi-esque eyes.
“Arms up, baby,” Aaron said as he slid his law school t-shirt onto your upper half. He saved that specific term of endearment for times like these, when he was taking care of you, when he himself was exhausted. You could tell he was, too, not only because he kept yawning, but because of that glazed-over look in his chestnut eyes.
You glance down at the words George Washington University, printed over your chest.
Aaron’s arms around you tighten for just a moment as he embraces you, and you dig your face a little further into his chest. “No Jack today?” You ask, your voice coming out croaky.
“At his grandparents’,” Aaron murmurs, and you yawn. He strokes your hair. “How’s your head?”
“I haven’t had any complaints so far.”
Aaron’s hand freezes in your hair, and you lift your head, smirking at him. His mouth has formed a straight line, but you snicker and you can tell he’s trying not to smile at your dirty joke. “Degenerate,” he calls you.
“Prude,” you tease back, inching closer to kiss his jaw briefly before laying your head back down. “It hurts,” you answer his question. “But not as bad as it could.”
“That’s good,” Aaron comments, his hand running through your hair again, gently, the world’s most relaxing and least effective hairbrush. It feels nice, but his hands are so big that his fingers snag on the tangles, accomplishing nothing but making you feel warm and fuzzy inside.
Nothing wrong with that, though.
“Do you want some Tylenol for your headache?” Aaron asks, and you just curl up into him even more. He’s so warm, and sturdy, and it’s so rare that you get mornings like this. Either you’re both working or Jack has a soccer game or there’s something else going on. It’s nice just to lay around with him, to be mildly hungover and pretend like that’s the only thing going on in either of your lives.
“That would require getting out of bed,” you protest, and feel Aaron’s arms tighten around you. He’s a very doting boa constrictor.
“How about I get it for you, then?” He offers, and you shake your head and shift all your weight onto him. He chuckles, a deep, throaty noise you know you’re only privy to for about twenty minutes right after he’s woken up. “So that’s a no.”
“That’s a no,” you confirm, settling back in to your original position.
You lay like that with him, in comfortable silence, for a few minutes. Until it feels like you’ve melded into one being. Then Aaron finally shifts under you. “Honey, my arm’s asleep,” he whispers, as though he’s afraid to disturb you.
You slither off of him, then clamber out of bed with no amount of grace, going so far as to trip over the corner post of the bed. As Aaron sits up, you exclaim, “I’m okay!” and hold your hands out to steady yourself.
Aaron stifles a laugh and you watch him stand from the bed and he walks towards you, steadying you with one of those gargantuan hands on your shoulder. He then lifts that hand to tip your chin up. You step forward in a silent dance, wrapping your arms around his neck and standing on your toes to kiss him. “Oh, shit,” you murmur. “I bet I have really awful morning breath.”
He just blinks a few times, and then offers you a shit-eating grin. “Yeah, honey, you kind of do,” he admits. You lightly punch him in the pectoral and then head to the en suite to brush your teeth.
#aaron hotchner x you#aaron hotch x reader#aaron hotchner drabble#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner imagine#hotch fluff#hotchner x reader#hotch fic#aaron hotchner fic#aaron hotchner fluff#hotchner#hotchner fluff#basketonthedoorstepofthefbi#criminal minds fluff#criminal minds fic
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AARON HOTCHNER
╰┈➤ 18+ none of these stories belong to me! this is a masterlist of all aaron hotchner stories i’ve read and reblogged! just thought it would be nice to have them all in one spot! (if your fic is on here and you wish not to be, please let me know!) some will have summaries if provided <3
MASTERLIST ✈️ CRIMINAL MINDS ✈️ 09/01/24
@luveline ✎ sick of maybe You worry your boyfriend is ashamed of you. This is very much not the case. Or, 5 times Hotch hid your relationship (+1 time he didn’t). ✎ a solitary mistake You're not sure you're ready to come back. Hotch has total faith in you. Or, your transition back into the team after your abduction doesn't go as smoothly as you'd hoped. ✎ spontaneous phenomena Hotch touches your face much more than a boss should. Or, 5 times you have a nosebleed +1 time Hotch does. ✎ love, an abstract concept You learn how to be someone’s girlfriend. Or, 5 times Hotch raises your expectations (+1 time you raise his). ✎ if things go bad when an unknown intruder breaks into your apartment, you call hotch. he races to make it to you in time.
✎ bau!reader ✎ bau!reader ✎ bau!reader ✎ doctor!reader ✎ pregnant!reader ✎ bau!reader ✎ readers!daughter calls hotch dad
@dudeitiskarev ✎ my one and only It’s Derek and Savannah’s wedding, and to Hotch, you’re the prettiest person in the room. ✎ i want to hold your hand Hotch sends you home and you almost die, which only makes him realize how much he truly loves you. ✎ jealously
@kimstills ✎ some reassurance in which you try to provide aaron with some reassurance after he asks for his worst qualities.
@ssahotchnerr ✎ something good ✎ rom coms ✎ according to plan ✎ makeshift ✎ something exhilarating ✎ like dad does ✎ public displays of affection ✎ stay with me ✎ on hiatus ✎ knowing you ✎ nightmares
✎ not so friendly competition ✎ it’s a date ✎ brads back
@greg-montgomery ✎ request
@headkiss ✎ something more you and aaron are friends with feelings more obvious than you think. or: 5 times the team suspects you and hotch are dating +1 time they know it. ✎ steady hand hotch catches you at the worst times, but you’re not mad about it. or: 4 times you need hotch’s help +1 time he needs yours.
@honeypiehotchner ✎ gold star You’re Jack’s teacher and Aaron is basically your nemesis. Until he’s not.
@chvoswxtch ✎ baby
@hotchfiles ✎ half asleep takin’ chances there was no way around it, he needed an actual babysitter. so he finds you. and then he gets home to you adorably sleeping with jack on the couch to spider-man. ✎ no rainfall, no sunshine if there was a god, he wasn’t merciful, he was bloodthirsty, and he had a vendetta against aaron. he’s cursed, he knows it.
@hotchscvm ✎ three cents you butt dial your boss during a girls night … the girls night where you told them you’d fuck aaron hotchner for three cents.
@erwinsvow ✎ coffee, black, two sugars aaron hotchner is a lot of things. in love with you is one that you never saw coming.
@atlabeth ✎ too sweet a night out makes hotch realize a few too many things.
@ptersparkers ✎ reckless After two years with the BAU, you get the feeling that Aaron Hotchner isn’t your biggest fan. That’s too bad, because you really like him.
@spacecowboyhotch ✎ in the east and west hotch and reader realize some things.
@velvetcloxds ✎ bias
@irndad ✎ won’t you be my sunshine
@ddejavvu ✎ secretly married ✎ bereal your BeReal for the day is, perhaps, a little too real ✎ nervous!reader
@lavenderspence ✎ a bunch of cuties in love Running late to a meeting with Strauss, Hotch leaves Jack with his favorite person - you. The scene that greets him when he comes back leads to some realizations.
#aaron hotchner#aaron hotch#aaron hotch x reader#aaron hotchner x reader#criminal minds#criminal minds x reader#aaron hotch imagine#aaron hotchner fluff#aaron hotchner angst#aaron hotchner smut#aaron hotchner drabble#aaron hotchner oneshot#aaron hotchner blurb#aaron hotchner request
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I have a great idea for a one shot.. I cannot stop thinking about jealous BAU!reader with Hotch. Like a detective won't stop flirting with him and reader is just super jealous and hotch is super cocky about the WHOLE thing. And of course Rossi knows about both their feelings and he meddles. That's super specific lol.
I lit a thin green candle to make you jealous of me [Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader]
Masterlist || Ao3||Word Count: 1.4k|| AN: I hope you enjoy! Thanks for sending this in xx!
Tags/Warnings: no use of y/n, jealousy, canon-typical themes, bau!reader, cocky!Hotch, meddling!Rossi, Aaron Hotchner POV
Aaron Hotchner stood at the front of the local police station, briefing the officers on the case details. As the Unit Chief of the Behavioral Analysis Unit, he was accustomed to commanding attention, his tone authoritative yet calm. Beside him, you stood with your arms crossed, your focus not entirely on the discussion. Hotch couldn't help but notice your distracted demeanor.
During the briefing, Detective Sarah Jacobs, a striking and charismatic local detective, leaned heavily against Hotch’s side of the table. Her laughter was a touch too loud; her glances a tad too lingering as she responded to his procedural instructions. Hotch, ever observant, picked up on the tension radiating from you. Every time Jacobs smiled at him, your jaw tightened, and your notes were suddenly scribbled with more force than necessary.
Post-briefing, as the team dispersed to gather more information, Jacobs found reasons to stay close to Hotch, her hand brushing his arm under the pretense of pointing to details on a map. Hotch glanced your way, catching you glaring at Jacobs from across the room. There was an unmistakable flash of jealousy in your eyes, and something about it spurred a rare mischievous streak in him.
In the car, with only the two of you, Hotch couldn’t resist teasing. “You know, she’s just being friendly,” he remarked casually, eyes on the road.
“You don’t need to tell me about ‘friendly,’ Hotch,” you replied, your tone sharper than intended. “I know what flirting looks like.”
Hotch’s lips twitched into a half-smile. “Does it bother you?” he asked, glancing briefly your way.
You huffed, looking out the window. “No, it doesn’t bother me. Why would it?”
That smile became a full-fledged grin now, hidden from your view. “Just checking,” he murmured, his voice low and amused. It was rare for Hotch to indulge in such personal banter, but the evolving undefined relationship between you made the boundaries blur at times.
Back at the station, Rossi pulled Hotch aside, his expression a mix of amusement and concern. “You’re playing with fire, Aaron,” he whispered, nodding subtly in your direction where you were meticulously organizing case files, avoiding looking in their direction.
“Dave, it’s nothing,” Hotch assured him, his voice a low rumble.
Rossi raised an eyebrow. “Nothing? That’s not what it looks like from where I’m standing. She’s clearly got it bad for you, and you’re not exactly pushing her away. What’s your angle here?”
Hotch’s gaze softened as he looked over at you. “There’s no angle, Dave. It’s just… new. We’re figuring it out.”
Rossi clapped him on the back. “Well, figure it out fast. She’s a keeper, and you’re not the only one who can see it.” With a knowing look, Rossi walked away, leaving Hotch to ponder his words.
That evening, as the team gathered to review the day’s findings, Hotch made a point of standing close to you, his presence a silent statement to any speculative eyes. His voice, when he addressed the team, was firm, but when he gave you a brief look, it softened just enough for you to notice.
Later, when Detective Jacobs approached Hotch with another question, he answered politely but with professionalism, putting a clear distance between them. You watched, your previous irritation fading slightly as Hotch’s attention turned back to you, his dark eyes locking with yours in silent communication.
As the team prepared to leave, Rossi sidled up to you, a smirk playing on his lips. “Don’t let him get too comfortable with all that attention,” he whispered conspiratorially. “But between you and me, I haven’t seen him this off his game in years. You’re good for him.”
You looked up at Hotch, who was waiting by the door, watching you with an unreadable expression. Walking over to him, you decided maybe it was time to have that conversation about what 'this' was. But as you reached him, all you said was, “Let’s get back to the hotel. We need to review the profile again.”
“Of course,” Hotch replied, a slight relief in his tone, but as you both walked out into the cool evening, his hand brushed against yours, a simple touch that promised more discussions to come.
As the BAU team headed back to the hotel after a long day, the atmosphere inside the SUV was thick with unsaid words. You were seated next to Hotch, the space between you charged with an undercurrent of tension and unsolved emotions. Throughout the ride, Hotch caught glimpses of your profile, illuminated by the passing streetlights. Your usual sharp focus seemed clouded with thoughts he could only guess at.
Upon arriving at the hotel, Hotch suggested a brief team meeting in the hotel conference room to finalize the profile adjustments. However, as the rest of the team filed out of the SUV, he held back, touching your arm gently. “Can we talk for a minute?” he asked, his voice low.
In the privacy of the parked vehicle, Hotch turned to face you fully. “About earlier—” he started, but you cut him off.
“It’s fine, Hotch. Detective Jacobs is just doing her job, right?” But your words came out more strained than you intended, and you couldn’t quite meet his eyes.
Hotch’s expression softened, his usual stern demeanor melting into a rare vulnerability. “It’s not just about Jacobs. I noticed you were upset. And if I’m honest, it bothered me more than it should have,” he confessed, his gaze steady and intense.
You finally looked at him, taken aback by his openness. “Why would it bother you?” you asked, a mixture of curiosity and something akin to hope flickering in your chest.
“Because,” Hotch paused, searching for the right words. “Because what I feel for you is... more than just professional concern. I don’t want there to be any misunderstandings between us.”
Your heart skipped a beat at his admission. The jealousy that had been simmering within you now sparked into something more constructive—clarification of the bond you both were tiptoeing around. “I guess I was jealous,” you admitted, feeling a weight lift as you acknowledged it. “I didn’t like seeing her flirt with you. It made me realize how much I...”
“How much you what?” Hotch prompted, leaning closer, his interest evident.
“How much I care,” you finished, locking eyes with him. “And how little I like the idea of not knowing where we stand.”
Hotch reached out, his hand covering yours. “I feel the same,” he said simply. “I’ve been trying to keep things slow, professional, but maybe we’ve been fooling ourselves thinking we could control the pace of whatever this is between us.”
You nodded, a smile tugging at your lips despite the seriousness of the conversation. “So, what do we do about it?” you asked, feeling more confident now that your feelings were out in the open.
“We redefine our parameters,” Hotch suggested. “Outside of work, we explore this... relationship. We see where it goes without the constraints we’ve been putting on ourselves.”
“And at work?” you asked, knowing the complications that could arise.
“At work, we remain the professionals we always are. But outside of it, I’m yours as much as you’re mine,” Hotch stated, his voice firm with resolve.
The conversation was a turning point. As you both joined the others in the conference room, there was a new sense of understanding between you. The meeting went smoothly, with both of you contributing to refining the profile. However, the real shift was noticeable afterward, as the team suggested grabbing a late dinner together.
Throughout the meal, you noticed Hotch shooting you small, knowing looks. You responded with subtle smiles, your earlier jealousy replaced by a sense of belonging and mutual recognition of the new, unspoken agreement between you.
Later that night, as you walked back to your room, Rossi caught up with you, a knowing grin on his face. “Looks like you two figured things out, huh?” he teased gently.
“Maybe we did,” you replied, your heart lighter than it had been in days. “Thanks, Rossi.”
Rossi winked. “Anytime. Just remember, the heart is just as vital a muscle to a profiler as the brain. Use them both wisely.”
With Rossi’s words in mind, you knew that whatever challenges lay ahead, you and Hotch would face them together, not just as colleagues, but as partners in every sense of the word.
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#aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner imagine#aaron hotchner fanfiction#aaron hotchner x you#aaron hotchner x y/n#hotch x reader#kiwriteswords#criminal minds#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds imagine#criminalminds#aaronhotchner#Aaron Hotchner fluff#aaron hotchner angst#aaron hotchner reader insert#aaron hotchner drabbles#aaron hotchner oneshot#aaron hotchner one shot#criminal minds fluff
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could you write bau!reader x aaron, reader is pregnant and baby is so restless and kicking a lot as reader is at her desk working and aaron is the only one who can calm baby down
ty for requesting <3 pregnant!reader, 1k
“Woh,” you mumble, almost clipping your head on your desk as you lean forward. “Oh, my gosh.”
“What’s wrong, mama?”
You wave your free hand weakly at Derek, the other to your bump. “Nothing’s wrong, handsome.”
Derek laughs warmly and stands from his chair. “I don’t believe you. Come on, tell me what’s wrong. Or I’ll go get the big man and he can force it out of you himself.”
Hotch’s never forced anything out of you, but he has kissed a confession from you before. He could do it again easily.
You right yourself as the baby’s rampant kicking makes you feel as though you’ll pee your pants. “Derek, there’s some crazy stuff happening inside of me right now.”
He smiles at you fondly. “I bet there is.”
“She’s kicking the shit out of me.” Sitting up, your back twinges and relaxes, the weight of your baby bump spreading out. You’re very pregnant and the baby is extremely active. She kicks pretty much 24/7 these last few days, and it’s driving you crazy. “Do you wanna feel?”
Derek presents his hand for feeling. You stand up, and Derek lays a hand across your bump. You don’t have to move it anywhere: the second he touches you, he can no doubt feel the baby’s aggressiveness. She’s aiming her little feet almost like she knows where your most fragile organs are.
One rough kick has Derek taking back his hand. “She’s beating you up, mama.”
“She hates me.”
“She doesn’t hate you,” Spencer says, twirling in his chair to give one of his innocuous tidbits of information, “babies kick for all sorts of reasons. They kick when they’re hungry, or after you’ve just eaten because of the extra glucose shared via the placenta. Sometimes they kick because they can feel sensation through your skin.”
Spencer stands up. You raise your brows. “You wanna feel?” you ask.
He grins and offers his hand. You take it and place it against the baby’s restless feet, smiling at Spencer’s smile, a little enchanted by how fascinated he seems. At Spencer’s touch, she starts to kick quickly like she had been with Derek, and eventually you have to move his hand in the hopes she’ll stop. She slows, but the occasional stretch pokes at your stomach. You can see the distension of her limb even through your shirt.
“She’s really going for it today,” you say. “Maybe I had too much brown sugar in my oatmeal.”
“You know babies can tell the difference between hands?” Spencer asks.
“I sort of guessed,” you say distractedly, rubbing at the baby’s kicking with the crest of your palm. “She doesn’t act like this with Hotch.”
“Good to know he has that effect on everyone,” Derek says with a laugh.
“I might go and ask him to make her stop. I’m gonna need a change of clothes if she doesn’t.”
Derek laughs again, full-bellied, his arm wrapping around your shoulders in a pitying hug. “Aw, sweetheart, you’ll be okay. Just two more months and this will all be over.”
“Well, you never know. The longest overdue pregnancy in human history was almost a hundred days, that’s more than an extra three months.”
“Spencer!” you say, not truly shouting, but your volume escaping you as the horror of a year long pregnancy sinks in. “Don’t jinx me.”
Your loud voice, or perhaps Derek’s roaring laughter, draws the attention of JJ and Hotch, who appear from the depths of his office with matching curious expressions. JJ begins down the steps to the bullpen, while Hotch stays at the balcony waiting for an explanation.
“Baby Hotchner’s giving it large,” Derek says, rubbing your upper arm.
“She won’t stop,” you complain, relieved to see your stern husband. “Can you come and set her straight?”
You aren’t always so quick to complain to him, but this is too much. It feels as though she’s about to start doing spin kinks against your spine —it’s honestly the most she’s ever moved. When you were just a few weeks pregnant you’d longed for her to wriggle and show you a sign that she could feel you, but now you’d appreciate a few minutes of calm.
Hotch follows JJ down obligingly, and he, surrounded by your curious coworkers and colleagues, without any hesitation (but certainly some care), slips his hand under your blouse to feel at his baby’s sharp kicking. He presses against what might be a foot for a few moments, his smile barely hidden, his palm warm.
“She really is giving it large,” he says, the deep softness of his voice like a signal.
The baby’s kicks soften, until, barely ten seconds later, they stop. Your spine ceases vibrating, and you can finally stand there without having to press your thighs together.
“Thank you,” you say, holding Hotch’s elbow. He’s well and truly saved you.
He rubs your stomach with his thumb. His dark eyes stay set on your bump. “You’re welcome.”
“I guess baby just missed her dad,” JJ says.
You look at Spencer. He doesn’t say anything. “No correction?” you ask.
“No,” he says, pouting that you’d ask. “Either she missed the sound of his voice, or your reaction to seeing him has calmed her down. That’s not a big difference.”
“It’s both, I think,” you say, paused by a big yawn.
“Are you tired?” Hotch asks.
“Urgently.” You let yourself sag forward toward him, gesturing for Spencer, Derek and JJ to look away. “Thanks for your help, boys, but I need something no one else can give me.” You collapse into Hotch’s chest for a hug.
The bump is very much in the way, but he reacts accordingly, ushering your chest to his, cheek pressed gently to your forehead. “She’s exhausted you,” he teases under his breath.
“She really has.”
“I love how she settles with me,” he says, rubbing your back for a long, slow handful of seconds, before he pulls away enough to grin at you. “But I suppose she gets that from her mother.”
“You’re very calming.”
“So I’ve been told.”
#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner x you#aaron hotchner x y/n#aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner fic#aaron hotchner blurb#aaron hotchner drabble#aaron hotchner imagine#aaron hotchner fanfic#aaron hotchner fanfiction#hotch x reader#hotch#hotch x you#hotch blurb#hotch drabble#criminal minds
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fluffy aaron request !! reader is on a date that is going so bad when she gets called in for a case so she shows up in her like fancy date outfit and confides in hotch about her horrible date then he offers to make it up to her and takes her out when they get back <3 maybe there’s some room for slight jealous!aaron in there somewhere tehe
it's a date
there's always room for jealous!aaron 🤭 cw; fem bau!reader, mutual pining, a touch of nervous and jealous!aaron, brief standard cm case info, fluff <3
You were the last one to arrive at the BAU, departing from the far side of town and evening traffic to blame.
Consequently, you pulled stares the second you arrived within the roundtable room. Your presence was anticipated, for one, the sound of your heels clacking against the hard floor, and:
A low whistle exited Morgan.
"Look at you." He tossed out, a tickled grin spread wide across his face.
Your current attire was a dress; a fancier, slightly more risqué choice compared to your typical office wardrobe. It was a light beige, your hair was down your back in loose curls, makeup more enhanced than your usual routine. Aaron had to (internally) admit, you looked stunning.
"Hot date?"
"You could say that."
Aaron felt his jaw move. Clench, actually.
"Sorry for cutting your night short." He apologized, forcing his sentence out deep from inside his chest. He turned towards the screen, concealing himself.
"On the contrary," You eased yourself into your chair, eagerly accepting a file from Emily. "Thank you for cutting my night short."
"With this one, you may want to rethink that sunshine." Penelope clicked her remote, illuminating the screen with the latest case photos. "Ain't no rest for the wicked."
The team collectively ran through it quickly; a brutal family annihilator, decreasing cooling off period, the gravity of the situation heightening and a panicked town. Wheels up in 30 to Oklahoma.
As the others trailed out, Penelope hurrying to her bat cave, Aaron slowed his pace. He prolonged securing his files into his briefcase, zipping it shut, leaving only the two of you in the room.
Coincidentally, you weren't in too much of a rush either.
"That bad?"
You huffed in response as your eyes found his. He was met with a hardened, utter annoyance, instead of your familiar warm liveliness.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
"There's not much to talk about." The bottom of your files hit the surface of the table, loudly, stacking the few evenly together. "The guy sucked. Interrupted me every second he could. I don't think the restaurant he picked was up to code either. Thank goodness I got the call before our food arrived." You shuddered lightly, in theatrics but also genuineness. "I'm greatly looking forward to pretending it never happened."
There was a carefree airiness within your voice - attempting to wave it off, the simple acceptance of one night gone bad - but small dismay was amongst your words.
"I'm sorry." While Aaron meant his apology wholeheartedly, he couldn't help but feel relieved, for his own selfish reasons. "But I am glad you narrowly escaped the potential food poisoning."
That pulled a laugh from you, agreeing. "But it's fine, really. I didn't want to go anyways, don't know why I did." You shrugged as you disrupted the continual, shared eye contact. While the tail end of your sentence was spoken lowly, it wasn't long lasting, picking up some enthusiasm. "How was your night going?"
"Jack and I were just settling down to watch a movie."
"Which one?"
"Shrek."
Your head tilted exasperatedly, face pulling into jealousy. "Really? How fun." You whined gently, wishing your night could have been spent with the two of them. Your preferred choice of company.
"Well, he wasn't too happy it was cut short." Aaron admitted, a loose, downhearted chuckle escaping.
"You'll make it up to him. Perhaps a multiple movie feature when we're back? Shrek, Shrek 2, Shrek the Third... maybe order some pizza too." You suggested, reaching out to touch his arm reassuringly with a gentle smile. "No matter, he'll be thrilled."
Sourcing from your touch, lightning bolts dashed within his arm, feverishly. Aaron soon found himself simply studying your face, falling on the silent side. You were just, you. Extraordinarily kind, beautiful you.
"C'mon, Dave told me if I was late to the tarmac once more, he'd tell the pilot to leave and I'd have to take a commercial." You joked. Although, a small part of you feared he'd stick to his promise.
"Yeah, like I'd let that happen." He rolled his eyes, amusedly shaking his head.
The bullpen was quiet; most had gone home, the overheard lights had dimmed, the team long out of earshot. As the two of you neared the glass doors - Aaron leading - there was an urgency heightening in his chest, mere seconds away from bursting. As if each step forward, he was losing precious time. Any hesitations on the temptations he had felt for months dissolved. Now or never.
"What about you?" He asked, sweetly but timidly, finding a sudden interest in the floor.
"What about me?"
"Who's going to make it up to you?"
"Well," That caught you in a bit of surprise, your feet halting. Aaron turned, his eyes lifting. "That's a million dollar question right there. I don't see anyone lining up to take me on some extravagant outing, do you?" You forced out a laugh, your cheeks fairly blushing.
"Maybe," Aaron replied, his voice wavering with a touch of nervousness. It was rather endearing, seeing him so adorably flustered. "Perhaps the person you're looking for is right in front of you. Figuratively, at that."
A rather charmed expression formed on your face. Eyes brightening, lips pursing upwards, "Are you asking me out?"
"I'm trying." He confessed, his boyish expression just as light as yours. "So, tell me. How am I doing?"
"How about this," You spoke slowly, attempting to suppress the butterflies in your own stomach, hoping to maintain some composure within your answer. "Your next available night after your movie marathon with Jack, I'm completely and all yours."
All yours. He could get used to that.
"It's a date."
#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner fluff#aaron hotchner x you#aaron hotchner x fem!reader#aaron hotch x reader#aaron hotchner imagine#criminal minds#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds x you#criminal minds drabble#aaron hotchner drabble#criminal minds imagine#criminal minds fanfiction#hotch imagine#criminal minds x fem!reader
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MILE HIGH
Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader
! smut warning!
a/n: i just wanna say thank u all so much for the love on my last hotch fic i’m absolutely blown away!! hope you enjoy this just as much <3
tags: p in v, unprotected sex, praise, public place
For once, you found yourself alone with the one person you wished to be with. Yourself and Aaron happened to be making your way over a little later than the rest of the team and you had to admit, as dearly as you loved them, it was nice to have some quiet on the jet. It was an entirely different atmosphere. Especially being confined with your boss - and boyfriend - not that anyone was aware of that aspect.
“Thanks, Garcia.” Hotch spoke firmly into his mobile, soon sliding it back into the pocket of his suit-pants.
He cleared his throat, eyes flickering back over the table and honing in on you. Focusing really shouldn’t have been so difficult, but it was, and you had no doubt his mind was whirring with the exact same image as yours.
You ran your eyes over him, unable to pull your gaze elsewhere despite your efforts.
“Don’t look at me like that.” Aaron exhaled, eyes narrowing ever so slightly.
You hadn’t realised you were looking at him any particular way, if anything you were simply.. admiring.
“Like what?”
Once more, he let out a deep exhale, peering back at you for a few quiet moments before he parted his lips to respond, “We’re at work, honey.”
The nickname had you clenching your thighs beneath the table, pressed tight and desperate for friction.
“At work, by ourselves.” You chirped back at an instant, eyes wandering over the empty jet as it whirred.
His jaw visibly tightened, ticking ever so slightly as he drank in your words. You could read him well, though not quite perfectly, but you were certain his mind was fogged with the very same conflict as yours, “And we’re on a plane.”
You offered a gentle shrug, “I don’t care.”
His jaw ticked once more, eyes narrowing for a split second as he gazed at you over the table before slipping a deep exhale.
“Fuck it, neither do I.” He breathed, “Come here.”
You didn’t hesitate for a mere second, finding yourself stood before him almost instantly as his hands reached for your hips, pulling you down onto his lap. Your body was snug between Aaron’s torso and the table, chests pressing against eachother.
Suddenly, his lips captured your own in a warm, hungry embrace. His hands squeezed at your backside possessively, running quickly down the back of your pencil skirt as you writhed breathlessly on his lap.
A low, hoarse groan seeped from Hotch’s mouth and into your own as he felt you buck atop his lap, the stiffness in his trousers taunting you through your skirt.
Eager to feel the heat of your skin against his own, he pushed the material up your thighs, sliding it slowly over your ass as his fingers trailed down the lace of your underwear.
“So pretty.” He mused quietly, mumbling against your lips as he brought his mouth down your neck, the warmth of his breath tickling your skin. Aaron’s hand wedged tightly between the parting of your thighs, sliding his fingertips against the fabric of your sodden panties, “You’re soaking.”
Your breathing grew heavy as his words brushed under your ear, heat brewing further and further between your legs as he moved his digits so tauntingly against you.
“That needy for me, hm?” A low, amused chuckle seeped from Aaron’s lips as his open mouth pressed hungrily to your lower-neck.
Unable to deny, you returned with a soft nod, feeling his fingertips creep under the band of your underwear. He hooked the gentle fabric on his finger, gliding it down your thighs with ease.
“My poor girl.” He cooed, lips painted with a satisfied smirk, switching the focus of his touch to the zipper of his pants. He wasted zero time in tugging at the metal latch to reveal the growing stiffness in his boxers, “Think this’ll help you focus, honey?”
With a gentle exhale, your gaze fell to Hotch’s length as he freed himself from his underwear. “Yes.”
Purposefully slowly, he traced the head of his cock with the pad of his thumb, your eyes glued to the sight with no intention of breaking.
“Lift your hips.” He commanded, voice stern as always, though laced with an underlying tenderness. One palm surrounded his shaft loosely, providing that extra sense of friction while he guided your hips with the opposing hand.
Immediately, you complied, raising your hips upward a little as you anticipated what was to follow. He trailed his thumb back and forth over your exposed hips, sure to taunt with his touch. Adjusting himself between your thighs, Aaron pressed his tip to your sopping cunt, eyes flitting back up to meet yours.
With a strained moan, you sank your body down onto his own, drawing a rather hoarse groan from his mouth as your warmth surrounded his cock.
“Fuck..” You murmured, teeth sinking into your bottom lip with nothing but ecstasy, revealing in the way he filled you so flawlessly.
You clutched at his shoulders firmly as his length reached deep within your cunt, digging your fingertips against his suit jacket.
“I know, sweetheart.” Hotch soothed, suddenly bucking his hips up against your own, both hands gripping possessively at your backside, “So deep, huh?”
He punctuated the words with a rough curse beneath his breath, bucking up against you once again. His grip grew tighter on your skin as he began to pull you down on his cock in time with his thrusts.
“Shit, honey, there you go. Just like that.” He praised, sliding a single hand toward your neck, cradling it against the heat of his skin.
Aaron buried his flushed face into the crook of your neck, sucking hungrily at the skin as it darkened between his lips.
“Fuck, Aaron..” The words fell amidst a heavy breath, practically whining as he thrust up inside you, your bodies smacking together with each hit.
Both large, callous hands slid to the small of your back, lifting you suddenly and placing you atop the table you’d been tightly pressed against. You let out a soft, breathy whimper as he planted you down, his cock still buried deep inside your cunt as he stood before you, pulling his hips back slowly and landing a particularly deep thrust inside you once more.
Abruptly, he took ahold of your face in his hand, tilting your chin to meet his eyeline.
“Eyes on me, honey.” Aaron groaned, voice gravelly as his hips smacked against you, “Show me that pretty face when I’m inside you.”
His words sent a swarm of butterflies straight to your stomach, skin flushed with an overflowing sense of heat as he filled you repeatedly, hips striking back and forth in a manner that had your thighs beginning to tremble.
“That’s my good girl.” He affirmed, pumping his cock in and out of your warm, drenched pussy. As before, his lips ghosted by your neck, mouth lingering beside your ear, “Take me so well.”
“Fuck- Yes!” You moaned, wishing you had the ability to keep yourself even the slightest bit quieter, “More..”
Aaron chuckled in response to your broken plea, cocking a single, tame brow as his eyes gazed down at your taunted expression, “You want it harder? Faster?”
You nodded simply, eyelids fluttering together for a few short moments, struggling to keep your eyes from drifting back. The wooden table began to rattle beneath your thighs as he picked up his pace, gripping tightly at your skin as he moved against you.
You clenched desperately, composure faltering as you squeezed at him, nearing a release.
All of a sudden, he leant your body back entirely, laying you back atop the sleek wood. A small gasp escaped your throat as he guided you, never once relenting in his pace.
With one hand alone, Hotch seized both of your wrists, planting them firmly above your head as he squeezed rather possessively. His length struck deep as he leant down over you, mouth lingering right beside yours.
“Keep your hands there.” He uttered against your lips before sealing the command with a long, tender kiss.
You nodded beneath his body, feeling a release begin to approach inside you.
“Shit, Aaron, I’m close-“ You whispered, chest heaving helplessly beneath the fastenings of your blouse.
“I know, honey, I know.” He practically groaned against your skin, a hot fog of breath stroking your flushed skin as he gave your wrists a small squeeze.
You clenched around him as his tip struck your g-spot in flawless repetition, the coil in your stomach winding tighter and tighter with each passing moment. Suddenly, it snapped entirely, and your release overcame your body.
Hotch slipped a low, broken groan as you squeezed him between the warmth of your thighs, “Fuck,” His eyelids squeezed shut for a moment as the table shook ever so slightly beneath the rocking of his hips, “Make a mess on my cock sweetheart, there you go.”
His encouragement was all you needed, the sound of his voice fuelling your arousal as he fucked you through your orgasm, mumbling inaudibly under your breath.
His cock began to twitch between your walls, nearing his own release as he slid out of you with a gruff sound, offering his length another few pumps in his fist as you observed with heavy breathing.
“Fuck.” He repeated to himself as he came undone, coating your exposed thighs with his release, struggling to regain his breath as he groaned.
After a moment a satisfied smile cracked over his lips, and he seized you by the waist, hauling your weakened body close to his, pressing his lips to yours once more - though far softer this time, “You’re going to be the death of me, honey.”
Thank you for reading and hope you enjoyed! Your support means the world to me! I’m working through a lot of requests so thank you for your patience if you’ve sent one in <3
#smut#smutty#drabbles#oneshot#criminal minds#criminal minds smut#aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner x you#hotchner x reader#hotch smut#hotch#hotchner#aaron hotchner smut#hotchner smut#aaron hotchner x reader#hotchner x you#hotch x you#hotch x reader
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Finishing Gifts ❤︎ Aaron Hotchner
from the river to the sea, palestine will be free 🇵🇸 READ: this account stands with palestine, and so— i require everyone who interacts to educate themselves, and support/donate. READ THESE; 1 and 2, HELP HERE, BOYCOTT. silence is complicity, do not scroll past this.
♡ SUMMARY: after a few days of ignoring him, Aaron makes an effort to get your behavior to return to normal
♡ WARNINGS: 18+ MDNI, smut, female and male masturbation, phone sex, mentions of watching porn, sex toys, drinking, small mentions of criminal minds-esque themes and violence, pretty much porn with very little plot, this is not edited like at all
♡ NOTE: something about writing aaron masturbating makes me go brrrrrr
˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
You had thought you were keeping your cool. Honestly, truly, you had thought no one would notice the small changes in your behavior. You had tried to be subtle in dodging Hotch, doing it slowly and over time. It had started with piggybacking Spencer’s theories in the field, which led to pushing to go look at a crime scene rather than to the police department with Hotch. Then evolved into getting deep into conversation with JJ as you approached the jet, using it as an excuse to claim a seat next to her rather than your normal position between Hotch and the window.
These acts had gone unnoticed, or, at least, you’d thought. In your determination to avoid them, you hadn’t noticed the strange looks Derek and Morgan had thrown each other, and then Aaron, as you relaxed next to JJ. You missed Garcia questioning what had been up with you as you extended your time making coffee before a briefing, just so you didn’t have to walk behind Hotch into the room.
But, your latest change to avoid your unit chief definitely didn’t fly under the radar. This one was loud and clear, and absolutely threw off the entire BAU.
You’d just completed, by all possible metrics, a very successful case. It was a rare one, looking at terrorism in the DC area. A group of people who were planting explosives around the city, in unsuspecting areas. Instead of targeting political buildings or memorials, they focused on smaller-scale destruction. The team had been able to put the perpetrators away with no more casualties than those that were gone before the team landed. All in all, it was incredibly stressful, but a win for the team.
So, after Emily’s suggestion and Derek’s reminder that it was an extended weekend due to a government holiday, the team was getting ready to head to the bar. You had begged to go home to shower, promising you’d take an Uber (so you could, in Penelope’s words, “get fucked up with the girls”) and meet them at the bar in about an hour.
You put on your best outfit, showing an appropriate amount of cleavage, and did your makeup to the best of your abilities. After you’d cleaned up, you went to open your Uber app, excited to have a night to relax.
However, you were cut off when a phone call overtook your screen. “Aaron” the contact name read, indicating it was your unit chief, and that he was calling from his personal cellphone. You let ring a few times before picking up, not wanting to seem too eager to talk to your boss.
“Hellooo,” you practically sung into the phone, too excited to be worried about embarrassing yourself in front of him. He simply replied with a formal “hello,” followed by your name. “Please don’t tell me you’re ruining my longggg weekend,” You said to him, and he swore he could hear some of jewelry shaking. You couldn’t keep your excitement in, shaking your wrists, which made your bracelets make noise.
He chuckled a bit at your reaction to him calling, “No, no. I was just calling to see if you had left yet.” You smiled against the phone, knowing where this conversation was going. “Nope! I was actually ordering my Uber when you called,” you informed him. “So, you haven’t ordered it?” He questioned again, to which you replied with a “uh-uh”.
You couldn’t tell but your excitement about going out with your friends was essentially oozing through the phone, causing Aaron to maintain a bright smile on his face. You weren’t aware of how your vibe, your energy, was able to lift a weight off of Aaron’s shoulders that had been there for as long as he could remember.
“I also had to run home before meeting the team. If you’d like, I can pick you up.” Your smile, somehow, grew even bigger. Any excuse to see Aaron was a good one, you’d thought.
However, your face quickly fell when you reminded yourself that you were supposed to be avoiding him. You felt a pang in your heart as you said, “Thanks, but I have a few things to finish up here! I appreciate the offer, Hotch.”
With a quick, formal goodbye, the called ended. Aaron tried to ignore the fact that you lied to him as he drove the rest of the way. You had said you were about to call your Uber, and he heard your jewelry, meaning you were putting the finishing touches on your outfit. So why wouldn’t you accept his ride?
He tried to ignore the blow to his chest when you called him Hotch. Something about the use of his last name made him feel as if he’d done something wrong. Not that it was unusual for you, or anyone really, to call him that. It was the emphasis you’d put on it. As if you were trying to make it known he was Hotch and not Aaron.
Aaron tried to turn off his profiling ability, but it was proving to be had as all of his thoughts were currently encompassed by you.
The night, and the whole weekend if you were being honest, went by in a blur. You could tell Aaron had noticed the change in your behavior. You were standoffish at the bar, pretty much avoiding any conversation with him. You just hoped by the end of the long weekend it would be forgotten, and you’d be able to continue work as normal.
This dream was quickly demolished as Aaron was summoning you into his office before you had the chance to even put your bag down and unpack your files.
The sound of calling your last name both frightened and intrigued you. You couldn’t help but be attracted to the authority in his voice, even if it could mean you were going to be in trouble.
As you stepped into the voice, Aaron didn’t even look up. He mumbled a “shut the door, please,” as he finished recording some notes on an opened file in front of him. You stood awkwardly by the door, waiting for some kind instruction or reasoning from him.
“Please,” he gestured to the seats in front of his desk. You nodded, clumsily making your way to them. “I didn’t mean to scare you or make you uncomfortable by calling you in here,” he began.
You weren’t sure if you were more scared by being called into his office, to have a conversation that required you to both sit down and shut the door, or the intense eye contact he was maintaining as he introduced whatever discussion you two were about to have.
“I just couldn’t help but notice,” he paused for a second, trying to find the right words to say, “a recent change in your behavior.” You hoped he didn’t notice the way your eyes went wide, knowing you’d been caught. You didn’t have to ask what he was talking about to know you’d been caught, but you did anyway, “What do you mean?” You thought you were playing your part well, furrowing your eyebrows to truly emphasis your fake confusion.
“It feels as though you’ve been avoiding me.” Aaron says. His tone isn’t angry or even authoritative, but rather, disappointed. There’s a slight huff in the way he spoke. He didn’t give you a chance to defend yourself before he continued, “Which is fine if you so choose to do so. I would just like to know if it was because of something I did and if I could fix it. I want the team to function as well as it can, and I feel as though it would not if there was conflict between you and I.”
Aaron had to find a professional spin to throw his statement, knowing the professionalism of this situation was debatable at best. “Oh, sir,” you blushed, not really knowing what to say, “I don’t believe there is any conflict between us.” Your voice was formal, too formal. It was obvious you were under pressure. “So, what is it then?” He questioned.
You could feel yourself growing small under his intense stare. You could also feel the wet patch growing between your legs, making you slightly uncomfortable.
“You, uh, you kind of make nervous.” With your quiet voice and stutter, and the way your thighs squeezed together, it was easy for Aaron to pick up on the reason he made you nervous. His cheeks turned a pretty shade of pink instantaneously. “Oh,” his voice trailed off, followed by your quiet, “yeah.”
There was a few beats of silence before he cleared his throat. “Well, I’m glad to hear there’s no issues between us.” You nodded with his words, growing even more nervous. Your mouth was moving before your brain could catch up, “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to, it’s just been a minute since I’ve, ya know, and I know you’re boss but I will be completely professional and this will not effect my work in or out of the field.”
While you mean to be assuring your boss that your attraction to him was no detriment to your work, you just admitted that it’s been a minute since you’ve had an orgasm. You needed to end this conversation quickly.
“If that’s all,” You said as you stood, “I have a few more reports to finish.” Aaron simply nodded, dismissing you back into the bullpen. You made a break for the bathroom, hoping to have a few minutes to collect yourself before facing the race of the team. You felt exposed, knowing you were entering a room of profilers after since a painful experience. You needed some time alone.
After a mini-breakdown, and cleaning up your messed up mascara, you made your way to your desk. Calm and collected. That’s all you had to be. Calm and collected.
Serial killers and other criminals had quieted down for the week, in an unlikely turn of events. You’d only had to travel for one day, quickly solving a kidnapping case and the finding the perpetrator. The week flew by swimmingly. Nothing odd had happened.
Until you opened your door Saturday morning.
You hadn’t ordered anything, that much you were sure of. Even if you did, you tended to shop at places with bright packaging that made you feel like you were opening a gift when it was delivered. This unsuspecting, plain box was not here on your accord, yet it had your name and address on it.
The FBI agent side of you flipped into protection mode, racing to grab your phone and dial up the one person you knew that could tell you what to do if there happened to be a bomb inside of the box. Derek Morgan. “Pretty girl, why are you facetiming me at 8:27am on a Saturday?” He teased with a smile on his face. No matter what time it was, Derek was ready to listen.
“I got this box and I don’t know what it is. I just want someone to be around when I open it.” You informed him, sitting down next to the box. You should probably be standing, just in case you had to make a run for it but you were too worried about getting it open to think that far ahead.
“Alright,” He said, urging you to open it. You nodded to him, setting up the phone so he could you see and the box in the frame. You carefully tore off the tape, and let out a sigh of relief when nothing happened when it moved. You lifted the flaps slowly, taking a loud gasp when you saw it was. You hoped Derek didn’t see, and moved quickly to pick up your phone to hang up before he could.
“It’s not a bomb! I’m good, thanks Derek!” You rushed, hanging up before he could say anything. Your eyes didn’t leave the box as you let your arms fall to your sides. Sitting inside of it was a small, pink rose toy. A vibrator. That you definitely didn’t order.
You grabbed the box, hoping none of your neighbors saw it. It’s not that masturbation was wrong or immoral or that you didn’t partake, it was just weird if the people around you were aware of your toys.
So, you made sure your door was tightly closed before putting the box on the table and digging through it. There was all the normal things, the vibrator itself, large bubble wrap, and a paper receipt with the name of the product: Intimately GG Rose Suction Simulator from Pink Cherry.
However, there was another piece of paper at the bottom of the box. It was a typed note that read, “I hope this helps us go back to normal. A.H”. You knew exactly one person with the initials A.H. so it wasn’t rocket science to figure out who had ordered you this sex toy.
You weren’t sure if you were more turned on or embarrassed.
Aaron was your boss. Your kind, protective, strong, hot, sexy, boss. But still your boss. You wondered if this is something he would’ve done for someone like Emily or Penelope if they’d been in your predicament. It clicked quickly that it definitely wasn’t, and that made you special in Aaron Hotchner’s eyes.
So, you made a mental note to give him a call, after you tried out your toy. Luckily, you had your cleaning solution and an old bottle of lube from your past encounters. You made quick work of getting the toy clean and finding a video to help you get yourself off.
Of course, the man in the video was a white man who was bit older, with broad shoulders and black hair. No coincidence there.
You started with your boobs, taking time to massage each one before pulling on and pinching them to get yourself warmed up. Between the sounds coming from the video and the excitement of finally having time to yourself, your hands didn’t take long to move downwards, tracing along the length of your body. One hand continued caressing your side as the other made its way to your core.
The thought of Aaron going out of his way to help you get off and the visual of a man who looked similar to him getting his dick sucked had you borderline dripping on your bedsheets as you used your hand to start toying with your clit. You started with small circles, matching the speed of the girl sucking Aaron’s lookalike’s dick.
You stayed like this for a while, allowing yourself to go slow, really take your time pleasuring yourself. The guy in the video had already finished on the girl’s tits by the time you reached for your rose toy. You didn’t need the visual anymore, perfectly crafting dirty scenarios of your unit chief in your head.
You started on low. There was gentle sucking on your clit as you imagined the way Aaron would kiss. He’s experienced, you know that for sure. You could imagine the way he’d start gentle, maybe even cupping your face as he pulled you close. He’d let you feel like you were in charge, before his tongue made its way inside your mouth. His dominant side would take over, using his body to press you against whatever surface you were sat on.
As you fantasized about his dominant side, you cranked up the toy to the next level. You let out a loud moan at the new feeling. Your free hand moved back to your breast, squeezing, while you did your best to imagine Aaron’s large hands doing it instead.
You could feel the coil in your tummy getting tighter and tighter as you imagined Aaron slowly stripping your body, dragging his hand along each and every curve. With a sharp pinch to your nipple and a cry of Aaron’s name, you came undone all over your rose toy.
You could feel your slick dripping down your hand as you worked yourself through your orgasm, making sure to enjoy it for as long as you could. You wished you could savor this feeling. It was the strongest, best orgasm you’d ever had. Nothing could compare to the euphoria you felt right now.
You flicked the toy off and sat it to the side once the feeling became too much. You couldn’t bring yourself to move from your position. “Fuck,” you breathed out, trying to relax the hard rise and fall of your chest.
Once you were able to relax, you made your way to the shower. You knew you had to call Aaron, but you needed to be much more relaxed than you were right now to have that conversation. The sting from the hot water helped ground you, allowing you to clear your mind. After you cleaned yourself, you cleaned the toy and put everything in your nightstand drawer for future use.
Then, you reached for your cellphone. You quickly found Aaron’s personal number and hit the call button before you could overthink what you were doing. He picked up on the second ring. “Hotchner,” he said, probably out of habit. “Hello, Aaron,” you smiled. This is the conversation you’d had with him in a while that didn’t make you feel nervous. “Hello,” he echoed with your name. You didn’t know, but he was smirking on the other side of the phone. He’d been waiting for this call.
“You sent me a gift?” You asked. “I did. Have you received it?” He wasn’t sure what grew more, his smirk or his cock. “I have. I’ve opened it and took it for a test run as well.” The way you two were beating around the bush was a turn on, but the way he sounded so self-assured, as if he knew what you were going to say, had you clenching your thighs together.
“How did it perform?” Aaron questioned, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the table in front of him. This tightened the dress pants he was wearing against his hardened cock. “Very well,” You smiled. “I’m happy to hear that. I hope this is the end of all of your weird behavior.” Aaron chuckles. Just the sound of his laugh has you reaching your hand to squeeze the fat of your thighs.
“What weird behavior, Aaron?” You questioned, teasingly. This conversation is very different than any you’d had before, and it was turning you. You didn’t think it was possible with the strong orgasm you’d maybe an hour ago. But, Aaron was a special individual. He had that effect on you.
“You were avoiding me,” He scoffed. “I don’t know if I was. I think it was self-control,” You smiled, knowing you were baiting him. Without missing a beat, he took the bait, “And why did you need to practice self-control?”
Aaron leaned back in his chair, opting to press his hand against his cock instead of using the soft fabric to provide some kind of friction. He needed more, that much he knew.
“Because I was trying not to jump your bones, Aaron.” You breathed out. Your words had him squeezing his bulge, feeling like he could bust just from knowing you were attracted to him. “Fuck,” Aaron groaned into the phone. You giggled at his reaction, moving to press your hand against your core, again.
“Tell me about your toy,” He demanded, finally using the authoritarian tone that helped you get into this situation in the first time. “So you can touch yourself while I do?” You questioned, assuming he was in the same position as you. “Is that okay?” He questioned. “Of course it is, Aaron.” You promised, and used your permission as an excuse to unbutton his pants, and shove his hand under the waistband of his boxers.
As you started talking, he spread the precum, that’s been oozing from his pretty pink tip since he saw your contact name, along the length of his dick. “It was so good, Aaron. That was the best orgasm I’ve ever had.”
“Yeah?” Aaron encouraged you to keep going as he started stroking his cock. “Yeah,” You whined out, “I wish you could’ve seen me. My legs were shaking and I was leaking so much.” You smirked as you heard him groan in to the phone. His strokes had quickened in length. All he could picture was you spread out on his bed, cumming around his cock.
“What did you think about while you came?” You were surprised he was able to get the question out, especially because he only stuttered once. You wished you could see the way he squeezed his eyes together as he tugged on his cock. “You, obviously. I was thinking about your lips and your hands. I finished before I could get to the good part. I wanted to picture you fucking me from behind, pressing my face into the mattress.”
You were going to continue describing your fantasy to him, but he cut you off with a “Fuck!” as he came down his hands.
The line was silent for a few minutes before you spoke, “Hey, Aaron?” He hummed out a “yeah?”, before you asked, “Do you want to come over?”
“Give me ten minutes,” He promised, “and have the toy out.”
Well, you couldn’t refuse that.
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Unknowingly, he admits | Aaron Hotchner
MASTERLIST
pairing: Aaron Hotchner x fem liaison reader
summary: another late night at the FBI meant you were once again buried in paperwork at Hotch’s office. But tonight, something was off—you were unusually quiet and distracted, a rare sight that caught Aaron’s attention. Intrigued, when he gets his answer, he tries to stop you from making that very same mistake, but doesn’t realise it’s for his own selfish reasons.
warnings: age gap, boss x subordinate, ex talk, mentions of divorce, Hotch being hot and reader is all (๑♡ .̫ ♡๑) once again
I do not consent to having my work translated or reposted to any other site. That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story!
"Straight through the glass door, then right." You stood at the entrance, signalling with your hand, explaining to the man who miraculously managed to get lost to your office.
"Oh, thank you." He turned to look at you once more, a mischievous but beautiful grin plastered across his face. "By the way, I'm Agent Nathaniel Smith."
He reached forward to shake your hand when you replied, "SSA Y/N. Nice to meet you."
Once he took off, you leaned on a door frame of your office, arms crossed over your chest. Then bobbing your head to the side, your gaze followed after the man as you admitted he was even better looking from behind.
Tight handshake, round from behind…
Pouting, you nodded at the thought.
"You meant Soft Spot Aaron’s (SSA) Y/N." A familiar voice came out of nowhere, humming in your ear. You jumped in your place, looked at him over you shoulder and rolled your eyes. Entering the office, Derek came in after you.
"What's up kiddo, you're not in the mood? You didn't like my friend Nathaniel there?" He teased, beaming widely, and pointing his thumb towards the exit where the man had left. You looked at him under your brows as you slumped back in your chair.
"What do you want, Derek?" You answered with a tinge of annoyance in your tone.
"Ah, that hurt." His hand on his heart feigning pain. With one leg propped on the edge, he perched himself on the table, enjoying a sip of coffee from his black FBI cup. You’d enjoy some coffee too. "Tell me, what's bothering you?"
"Ah, Derek..." You breathed out, leaning back in your chair, looking at the ceiling, fingers knitted at your stomach. "I don't think you want to hear that.”
He raised an eyebrow. "That bad? You know that’s my jam, I’m all ears, baby."
Deliberately raising your brow at him, you straightened in your seat and rolled your chair towards the table. “Really?”
“Is that a challenge?”
“Wanna make a bet?”
“Sure I do, lil pumpkin.”
When you expressed a sense of superiority through a subtle yet discernible smirk, it wouldn’t be a lie were you to say that panic sprang through Derek’s eyes. So you quickly added, “Game on.”
~
Not long after Derek stormed out of your office, repeating ‘No, no, no!’ more to himself than you — either because he just lost money or because of the thing you’d told him — Hotch appeared at your door. You didn’t notice him, slumped back in your chair, one leg across the other, your hands playing with a pen.
If it weren’t for the two knocks against the door frame you wouldn’t have even noticed him.
You straightened your back, sitting more appropriately.
“Are you ready?” He inquired, his eyebrows inched upward as he looked upon you.
“Yeah. I’ll be there in a minute.” Even through the smile that quirked on your lips at the sight of him, your eyes held the smallest hints of concern.
──────────────────────
"Is everything ok?" His voice, simultaneously stern and gentle, pierced through the hush that crept inside his office’s walls.
"Huh?" You hesitated, completely engrossed in the paperwork you were completing. It wouldn't be incorrect to say that you had no idea how you had managed to do it properly when your thoughts were occupied by something else. You were pleased when Hotch finally did speak and directed your attention towards him. Towards something that potentially could brighten your mood. “Yes?”
“Yes,” he replied, maintaining eye contact with you. “You've been unusually quiet."
You arched an eyebrow. "Is that supposed to be an insult?" Leaning back, you took a moment to escape all the work and overwhelming thoughts. "Are you suggesting I talk too much?"
Hotch recognised that small smile of yours, small but enough to encourage anyone — to rouse him.
Hotch knew you.
He responded in his very recognisable calm and professional voice. “That's what you said."
It felt like you two were having this conversation recently, but now the roles had been switched.
"Truth." You leaned in towards the table, reaching for the pen. "No, everything is fine."
But that itch in your head didn't give you peace, and you didn't have the will or enough concentration to continue working any longer with that on your mind, so you blurted out.
You sighed, running a hand over your face. “You remember Brad?”
You said it without even knowing why, perhaps because you needed someone to confide in without fear of judgment. Was Aaron Hotchner really that person? Anyway, there was no going back now.
“Brad?” Hotch furrowed, only a hint of a confusion gracing his features before realisation kicked in. “Brad.” He repeated his name blankly, then leaned back in his chair.
Perhaps not.
Of course Aaron knew your ex-boyfriend Brad. Everyone did. And no one liked him.
Well, they were kind of right.
The reason you'd been a bit absent — and why Derek stormed out of your office earlier — was because of your ex-boyfriend. A couple days ago, following your conversation with Hotch regarding his divorce, you got a message on your cell phone. Unknown number. Before even reading the whole message, you had quite a good laugh once you read Brad’s name signed at the end of it. Apparently, he wanted to see you. Of course, you would not consent in meeting him even in a state of madness.
But, having a mutual friend was never a good idea. Brad showed up at the bar last night while you were out with said friend. You were initially just being sarcastic, the irony was coming through. But as time went by, somehow Brad managed to soften you through conversation and touch.
The thought made your skin crawl.
“Yeah… That.very -same -Brad.” You spoke in a hushed tone, your voice quivering as you glanced sideways. Everywhere except Hotch. Suddenly, saying it out loud to Hotch wasn’t your best plan. You were almost too shy admitting it. Or rather, admitting it to him. Saying it out loud made Aaron's presence in your chaos feel intimate and somewhat intrusive.
And why?
It was not the first time you two talked about personal lives, dammit, it wasn’t even a hundredth time! You had spent countless days and nights working together, on cases and press conferences, bars and restaurants with the rest of the team, and talked everything out of your lives.
Yet somehow this felt different.
Was it because you were talking about potential someone in your life? Or were you ashamed of admitting to Hotch you were even considering going back to that fool? Were you actually confessing to Aaron Hotchner himself — your boss — it had been a while since you had someone, that you had been that lonely and… needy?
Ugh.
Nonetheless, Aaron could sense the irony and uncertainty as you replied. He toyed with the pen, shaking it slightly in between his index and middle finger as his other hand held his hip.
The things he unknowingly did to you…
“And what does that very same Brad want? To reconcile?”
You quickly looked up at him again.
“I…” you opened your mouth, but the words died on your tongue. His brows were drawn together in a sympathetic concern, his eyes glowed with an inexplicable intensity… Something you couldn’t quite put your finger on.
Did he actually care? To think anything else might have been in question would be insane. But Hotch’d always been protective over everyone in his team, and you were one of them. And no one ever liked Brad, so the stare he had been giving you made perfect sense. “Well… yes. Apparently.”
“And you are distracted by that why exactly?” There was no change in his even voice as he observed you, shifting his head from one side to other. The dim lighting coming from his desk lamp cast dancing shadow across his face.
“Don’t tell me you’re thinking about reconciling with…” He halted in self-control, exhaling as his eyes slowly closed and opened. Fatigue washed over him, Aaron concluded. Regardless, he wouldn’t want his professional facade off, at least not when such a topic was in talk. “Very same Brad.”
You would have almost laughed at that, but only managed to smile and shake your head. Brad was not it, you knew that. And yet you were still thinking about it, and why, you wouldn’t know. You didn’t have the answer. Maybe you were bored, or perhaps tired of waiting for someone right to come your way.
It’d been a long time since you had a proper date, to be quite frank. One that didn’t end up in you yawning your boredom away, having Penelope fake call you to leave, having to really leave for work, and so on. It had been depressing to say the least.
You didn’t have anyone or anything planned in your love life for months. The only thing going on in that field (if one could even consider it that) was the crush you had had on Hotch that was somehow worse than pms’ mood swings. One day you liked him, the next day you wanted to rip his hair out. You also knew Hotch was within the reach, and considering and hoping something might have happen with the two of you was equal to hoping for snow in the middle of July somewhere in south Italy.
Your crush on him was there just to spice up your boring day.
Or so you thought most of the time.
“I knew you guys wouldn’t approve. You never liked him.” Is all you said, beaming widely at Aaron. He, of course, didn’t miss the hints of sadness either in your voice. It bothered you for whatever reason that much that you hadn’t been acting all giggly like your usual self.
Aaron’s eyes darkened as he leaned forward, his elbows on the edge of his table, his hands drawn together in front of him. “And you… like him?” The tone he spoke in was low and measured, almost intimate.
The tone that felt like a caress.
The gaze that made you feel like you were made of glass and he was too focused to let it drop.
You gulped.
“I- I don’t know.” You whispered through a nervous smile.
You lied. You knew that, Hotch knew that. And the thought of that pinched at your heart.
Some mistakes were just not worth making twice.
“If you are asking about my opinion… which I suppose you might not, but I can’t sit here and watch you make that mistake. But of course, this is about you and what you want.”
To Hotch, this was completely normal. It was almost like a friend helping a friend, or rather a boss advising his subordinate. After all, you were there for him when he needed company — when he parted his path with Haley. So, no, nothing unusual.
Everyone on the team disliked Brad. When she first got on the team, she was in relationship with Brad. They’d been together for three years, Aaron remembered. But not long after joining the team, they split up. Even back then everyone cheered her on and told her it was the right thing to do. Everyone except him, but the reason was that she was a newbie at the time, so of course he didn’t want to pry. Now, it was different… somehow.
“I know you don’t think he changed, you are not naive. But do you think it’s worth it?” His gaze assessed you for a moment before his dark eyebrows lifted, pausing briefly before he continued gingerly. “Does he notice the way you bite inside of your cheeks to stop yourself from saying something you might regret? Or the way you play with your earring when you’re not really paying attention, lost in your own schemes? That stress and all the pictures that come through your desk make you reach for favorite snack in comfort? Or that you smile the most when you have the most in your head?”
Silence.
Brad was suddenly long gone from your brain. The words Hotch spoke made a vertigo in your head, lying to you that there was more to it than it seemed. But at the moment nothing was more important than those little lies he you fed yourself with.
But then your gaze fell upon his hand.
The wedding ring still firmly and warmly hugged his finger making your heart drop.
Hope is the joy of a fool, so they say.
Not that you desired him to divorce Haley. Never. It just reminded you that Haley was and would still be a huge part in his life, and nothing, nothing could ever happen between the two of you. He would always love Haley. So it was indeed a good reminder to keep your head cool, your expectations zero.
His eyes averted for a second or two before he looked up at you again, adding softly — in his voice a mix of gentleness and playfulness. “Or the way your eyes get big and dark when you plead…”
A softness came over your features, a semblance of a smile gently flickered onto your lips. “You know about that?”
Hotch gave you a look that said “Of course I know about that”.
Busted, you nodded. “Of course you do.”
He sighed softly, his face showing exhaustion, a craving for care and an opportunity to relax.
“Now, I know it’s the whole point of our job. To profile people. To notice such things about others, but… Our other half should be just as considerate and aware of us. And I believe you deserve better.”
As he breathed the last words out, he leaned back, his head resting on the back of his chair, the almost see-through fabric of his shirt hugging his broad shoulders. Reaching up his collar, he unbuttoned the shirt — not very chastely as thought it were suffocating him, and loosened his tie.
It was suddenly getting warm with everything he had on his mind — work, fatigue and insomnia, Haley and Jack, divorce, you…
Yeah, you also.
As he closed his eyes, something between a sigh and a moan escaped his throat.
And while all this was happening in front of your eyes, you were practically melting in your seat at the sound he made, at the sight in front of you. You gaped at your boss unashamedly, as if you were hypnotised, your lips slightly parting and only then feeling the dryness of them. You swallowed, wishing you could drink in that sight of him. Oh, you so wanted to… many things. You envisioned getting up from your chair, leaving a trail on his table with your fingers as you made your way towards him before settling down onto his lap and leaving kisses up his jaw.
“Hotch…” you called out absent-mindedly, slowly, as though the words left you without your consent, still very lost in your imagination. “You are right. I deserve something far better than him.”
Not really hearing what you had said, he winced back, eyes and hands searching for a file on his desk. “We should get back to work. I need you to take a look at this report on the press conference you held in Kansas City.”
Trying to shake off that picture in your head, you reached for the document he held for you and put it down on the table. The letters were mix of some unknown words, your eyes only skimming over the files.
If concentrating was hard before, now it was completely impossible.
Sneaking a small look at him, you contemplated about the words he said just minutes ago.
You weren’t stupid — you were aware he’d have to pick up a few ticks and tells of yours and everyone’s on the team, but did he then also know about your silly little crush, and how attracted to him you were? Had he been profiling you all this time like he profiled the unsubs? Did he go in depths into his profiling of you? The thought made your heart squeeze in regret of some not-so-appropriate thoughts and actions you had done.
But then again, deep down you knew he didn’t. It didn’t make sense. Things would have been way different between the two of you had he known.
At last you concluded it was all right.
And that was when you realised he was right.
You had been fidgeting with your earring! Quickly stopping, cursing yourself inside, you took the paper in your hand, giving your best to concentrate and read.
You didn’t even notice you’d had that tick, Brad knew even less.
But Hotch knew. The thought made your heart waltz inside your chest, it was almost too hard not to smile.
But what you also missed was that Hotch had seen your actions causing a quick, but not small smile spread across his lips.
“So I thought we don’t profile each others,” you added, pretending to had been reading the report as silence had spread between you two. “And you say I’m not naive.”
Looking up at him under your brows, you didn’t expect he would have already welcomed you with a biggest grin you’d ever seen on him.
You both chuckled out loud, shaking your heads.
“I didn’t profile you…”
“Aha, aha.” You spoke over him, pretending you didn’t want to listen, like you didn’t believe him. “So you’ve said.”
“When you spend time with someone, you have to notice…”
Long into the night, soft chuckles and small voices could be heard outside of his dimly lit office.
A profiler never misses.
Or that was an excuse he said to himself.
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