#aaron hotch x plus size reader

[cupidkenji]

Virginia vampire - 2/2

Pairing: Aaron Hotch x vampire!fem!reader Cw: SLOWBURN BRO, non-gory descriptions of death, descriptions of hunting/blood consumption, angst, fluff, Lolita name drop (the book), non-descriptive mentions of an abusive dad, cursing, typical criminal minds violence, possible ED trigger (more in disclaimer), this chapter has kissing but it's not rlly suggestive Summary: Still reeling from your newly discovered brother, you find yourself struggling with the increased policing of the night life. In this, you also find a new incentive to hunt down your father. Disclaimer 1: Reader is chubby! She's not physically described here at all but a fat woman is always the MC. Disclaimer 2: Reader lives strictly on blood. This story discusses themes of intense bloodlust/hunger, UNINTENTIONAL avoidance of blood (food), and physical consequences due to not eating. This is NOT pro-ana or anything like that, and while these themes are explicitly negative, they are still there and may affect those struggling. Please look after yourself, this is all fantasy and is not meant to trigger you. That's all <3 WC: 6.4k - read part 1 first Y'all are really not fucking with this series but I had to finish it for my soul. Stings a lil bit ngl but I got a little something in the works that'll prob be received better. HEAD THE WARNINGS PLEASE but like usual I highly doubt this will be triggering to anyone, I've had an ED in the past and wouldn't write shit that would suck. <3

The morning after the introduction, you walked into the BAU with more purpose that you’d ever held in your step. You were practically on a manhunt for Aaron. You figured it wouldn’t be long before he found you; he’d been trying to speak to you everyday since you started ignoring him. After a week of unreciprocated persistence, your direct addressal of him hit him like a freight train. He looked at you confused for a minute, wondering if perhaps he was starting to see things as a product of missing your company, but quickly ushered you away upon realizing you were indeed speaking to him. You hadn’t been in his office since the night you’d laid your sins to rest on his lap, and it was uncomfortable to be standing at the scene of the crime. 

“Something happen-”

“Now you want to talk?” He was understandably upset, but his emotions were something you honestly didn’t have time for right now. “I’ve been practically begging you to talk to me for the past week. It was so unbelievably fucked up for you to shut me out like that.”

You sighed, he was for sure in the right but you needed all hands on deck and did not want to confront this right now. “I know, Aaron. I’m sorry, but I need your help.”

“I’ve been helping, Y/n.” You can’t remember a time you’d seen him so expressive. “I lied my ass off to a team I preach honesty to. I didn’t even care because it was to protect you. And then you stop talking to me? Make me give your orders to others just because of…what? Embarrassment? Pride?” You let him finish, mirroring his own exhaustion in a tenfold with the look you gave him. He sighed, putting his hands on top of the desk chair and leaning over it slightly. “What happened?”

Gratuity intertwined with the fatigue in your eyes as he said that. You owed him more than you knew how to make up, but unfortunately you weren’t done taking yet. “I talked to the unsub.”

His eyes shot to you. “What?”

“His name’s Daniel. He’s twelve, Hotch.” You looked down as you thought about him in the clutches of your father. “He hasn’t escaped. My dad is sending him out hunting and I have no idea why or how to find him.”

He breathed out, long and heavy as he approached absolute depletion, putting his hands on his hips and letting his head fall forward. “Ok.” He nodded, looking up with a new purpose than the one he held a moment ago. “We need to tell the team to look for him. We can’t find him on our own.”

The thought was petrifying, but you’d been prepared to share limited details. The team didn’t have to know about your condition to know about your father’s insanity. You could plead a convincing case without using yourself as evidence. “I’ll tell them.” You made eye contact with him, a comfortable agreement falling silently over the two of you. You walked back into the meeting you’d pulled him from. 

You expected the team to have carried on without Hotch there, but it seems the curiosity was simply too overwhelming to ignore, and they chose to sit stagnant and wait for the leader to be returned. You walked in after him, stating the new objective explicitly. You already had a sense like you were running out of time, you had no desire to prolong that feeling. “I’ve made the dynamic weird between everyone the past week, and I’m sorry.” You started, standing before the team as you spoke. “I think we need to start looking for my father as a suspect. I haven’t been honest with you all.”

You saw bewilderment light up the faces of them all, but only Morgan held a slight look of betrayal. He hated secrets, which is why it didn’t surprise you when he spoke up first. “How do you mean?”

You took a deep breath. What a plunge you were about to take. “Obviously you all know my father is virtually off the grid, but I’ve never told you about the man he was when I was growing up.” You weren’t going to give them the ins and outs, just the bare minimum. “He wasn’t a kind man, but he was a devoted one. He always talked about wanting to ‘expand his experiments.’ He swore to the public he’d never go beyond trials on mice but he lied. I found his plans to start human trials when I was seventeen and ran.” Not entirely untrue. The only part that blurred the lines was human trials - you genuinely believed he’d never attempt to make another you. Stupid.

Prentiss furrowed her eyebrows, messing with the pen in her hand as she processed the information. “You think he succeeded? That we’re dealing with a vampire?”

God, you were sick of that word. “I think we’re dealing with a mutated kid. The sun’s not gonna light him on fire, he’s just another victim of my dad.”

“I mean-” She seemed lost for words. “You seriously think he lives on the blood he’s taking?”

You were really praying on their trust in you. You were going to insist with all your might that he be tracked down, there wasn’t another way you were willing to convince them. “I’m positive.”

You were incredibly grateful when Aaron came to your defense. “I think we should look into it.” You saw a reluctant acceptance dawn on the group and internally sighed. Thank God. “Even if we don’t find evidence of human trials, he may know something about the unsub. It’s worth a shot.” They were suspicious, the room practically reeked of it, but you had to put aside the unease it caused you in favor of finding your brother. 

“Alright.” Morgan nodded. “I’ll go talk to Garcia. We’ll get a start on it.” He gave you one last inquisitive look before heading down the hall, the others filing out of the room to start on their routine tasks when a new theory was proposed.

Hotch looked over once the two of you were all that remained. “Do you think we can do this?”

You thought about it, truly thought of him and all his fucked up habits from your adolescence. “Daniel’s here, which means my father has to be.” You thought of the high chance this doesn’t work out in your favor. “If Garcia can’t find him then nobody can.”

He chuckled. “Can’t argue with that.” He looked at the board in front of you two, covered with pictures of drained bodies and bloodshot eyes. He flipped it, revealing a vacant side ready to be utilized for the task of locating your father. He returned his gaze to you, and understanding what he was implying, you grabbed a marker. “Let’s get to work.”

–

The boy - if he had ever truly been slowing down like the media claimed - relinquished that pattern almost as quickly as he’d adopted it. He hit the streets after a two day refractory period with a vigor unlike any previous attacks. You’d found four bodies in one night, and you had to force yourself not to picture him being locked away in one of your father’s cages, being starved just to be let out in hopes of wreaking havoc. Now, the night after the discoveries, cops were back on the streets in record-breaking numbers. You thanked your lucky stars you’d stocked up this time and wouldn’t have to duck and weave through all of them just to feed yourself. You were, however, scared for Daniel. Even your team started to notice his increasing sloppiness. There was a full sketch that had been made, the accounts of numerous officers making up the image. You knew well that he was smart enough to evade them, making you nervous he was trying to get caught - or worse, he was simply too exhausted to be speedy. You wouldn’t blame him for being fed up, but you feared the day his legs were gripped by it and he simply ran out of time. He hadn’t come back to your house, but you found a letter in your mailbox with no return address, simply stating your name in a handwriting that your father would have dubbed ‘chicken scratch.’ It was beautifully his, though, and you could practically feel the youth emanate from the words as you read them. He said that he’d hadn’t told you about himself, and that if you were going to be friends, that was a good start. You finished reading the letter a little teary-eyed with a cemented fondness for him - that whisper of maternal protection you’d felt at first now fully sprouting roots within you. 

It was him you thought of when you were called to fifth and main, listening to a panting policeman report that his luck, indeed, had run out. Your legs carried you out of the building without your vest, your cuffs, everything that was meant to be required sat unthought of in another room. Your team, of course, had gotten the same call that the wretched Virginia vampire was finally against the wall, and were rushing out of the building with equal energy but far less desperation. You headed immediately for the driver side, allowing Hotch to take the passenger and forcing every remaining member into the other car. He knew things they didn’t, you could talk to him about this in a way nobody else could hear. That was your intention, at least; let him calm you down before you made a mess of the scene with your unprofessional personal ties. You ended up completely ignoring his attempts to talk you back into sanity, focusing on dodging cars and clearing a path that would get you there the quickest. You don’t remember shifting the gear to park, simply slamming the brakes and falling out the door once you got there. Guns were drawn - a herd of police with sight trained on him - and you were standing in nothing but jeans and a long sleeve. You certainly felt the absence of your protection, but equipping them would have cost you far too much of the one thing you didn’t have: time. His hands were up, the typical sign of a peaceful surrender, but the knots currently pulling taught within your gut sent waves of nausea through you that you took as a bad sign. He wouldn’t surrender, your father would never let that happen. You lost track of the people following you closer as you rushed towards it all. You only knew Aaron was beside you because of his hand gently halting you from going further. Just a slight grip of your forearm and you stilled, waiting in the wings for that approaching storm to fling you asunder. You felt your tongue expel the word ‘please’ multiple times under your breath as you begged him not to do anything, begged God to listen to you, just begged for the sake of begging. Maybe, you bargained, showing a bit of gratitude to any higher power would let everyone walk away from this. You picked up on the twitch of his legs as he hesitated the run he was about to make. You felt yourself lurch forward slightly in response, as though somehow you could catch the bullets before they met his body should he try to flee. Soon, it wasn’t a speculatory thought - he did try. He ran straight at one of the officers, your eyes taking in every brutal detail of every bullet flying close-range right into him. You doubt a single officer held their finger off the trigger, estimating at least three bullets hitting him in rapid succession, every impact searing into your memory to forever loop in your nightmares. You felt Hotch’s arms in your clawing hands before you realized you’d fallen into him, the hoarse denials of the situation exiled from your throat with raspy wails. He let himself absorb them all, holding your head to his chest as you squirmed to look back at your brother's corpse. His fucking corpse. You would have charged at his executioners if not for his grip on you, and though you couldn’t feel it now, you’re sure you’d be grateful for the restriction when you inevitably exited your hysteria and still had your job. You felt the wet patches you were making on Aaron’s blazer rub against your cheeks but you could barely tell where you were, you had no energy to be bothered by the sensation. 

You heard him whisper, barely audible over your own heartbeat pounding against your skull. “I’m so sorry, honey.”

You sat like that, him waving away any approaching team member or officer. Anyone who wasn’t the man holding you was instantly ushered away, insanely confused and slightly offended. His body was bagged up, journalists and news casters were scratching at the barricades like vultures, circling until they could get the scoop. You’d listened to one woman describe his death as “the short reign of terror done by the Quantico bloodsucker finally being cut off” and thought about how he looked when he smiled. He’d liked white chocolate and baby birds, all the malice had been your father living vicariously through the boy. Daniel, well, he was just a kid. Sweeter than taffy and radiant. Simply bred to be a killer - a condition fully out of his control. He was just a dead vampire now, and you felt an emptiness like never before. 

Aaron offered, “let me drive you home” and so you nodded, preparing to go back to a cold house. He’d been there before, you should have insisted. You let him walk away and go back to your father, so sure you’d be able to obtain him again. You’d almost caught the firefly and now you weren’t sure you’d see light anywhere but the sterile reminders of the boy you almost knew. The car stopped, your whole neighborhood felt alien - unrecognizable. 

“Will you spend the night?”

“Of course.” 

So you went in. He hadn’t been in your house before. It was well lived, slightly aged and a little cluttered, but it smelled like you. He was happy to be there. He looked around the areas he could see. Kitchen, living room, typical entry-level stuff. He put his minimal things on the couch and went to situate himself there. It was comfortable, certainly not the worst couch he’d slept on. You looked at him, not bothering to suppress the obvious accusation of his stupidity in your eyes. 

“Spend the night with me, Aaron. Not on the couch.” This day single-handedly outweighed the world as it sat on your shoulders, making you question how you ever thought you’d known grief before tonight. “I probably wasn’t gonna sleep anyways, but I’m definitely not gonna sleep if you’re out here and I’m alone in a cold bed.”

He sighed, clearly wanting to comfort you. “Y/n-”

“Please just get in the bed.” You felt your eyes slip shut as you breathed out your answer, pointing vaguely in the direction of your bedroom as you referenced the item within it. “We can talk in the morning.”

He stood up, nodding slightly. “Ok.” He was so quiet, so domestic in his delivery that you almost let some of the tension slip off you. He’d always had an effect like that, and right now it was all you could ask for. He let you take his arm and pull him towards your personal abyss. You two could exist there, no bounds or expectation, just peace and quiet. You shoved him down, not bothering to change or even do your typical night routine. You just curled up to him, and tried to lose yourself in the feeling of his hands running up and down your back. You fought - hard - to surrender your racing mind into his open palms. He was here, like always, as a refuge - and for once in your life, you allowed yourself to be enveloped in the safety he offered. 

–

You’d partially expected to wake up to an empty bed the next morning. You’d put Hotch in a really compromised position, and though he was eager to support you, it would still be him that would take the blame as your superior. You’d compromised both your positions by bringing him into your mess at all. As guilty as you felt for the possible repercussions, you didn’t regret your choices. Especially as you scanned over the sleeping man, still donning his full suit - only kicking off his shoes the previous night in respect of your sheets. Always the gentleman. His arm was snug around you, but you wormed your way out after a few minutes, keeping his slumber intact while you made your way outside. Your throat felt smaller, in a way. As if the edges had shrunk overnight and now were incapable of taking in as much oxygen as they had the day before. Your eyes were swollen and slightly sore, and you were nearly begging for fresh air by the time you reached the door. You found the strangest thing when you opened it - a book. Pages bound in brown leather sat neatly to the right of the walkway. You weren’t exactly surprised you missed it last night, you weren’t in a particularly analytical state, but seeing it in the daylight was like seeing an angel ringing your doorbell. Mystical and dreadful - full of questions you didn’t want the answer to. What was it? Why is it here? Opening the cover, you found that loveable chicken scratch filling the first page, and raced inside your house with the book tucked under your arm. You protected it as if it were his lifeforce - at this point, it might as well have been. It was all you had left of him. You placed your shaking legs in a chair and settled in to read all of it. Whether he’d dropped it or left it intentionally didn’t matter to you. It was here, you were eager to merge his thoughts with yours. You knew it would be a mistake, and just like you predicted, you were weeping ten pages in. But you sat there, letting a jagged hour and a half pass before pausing when you found the last entry - your name was there. You’d learned about his desires, his fears, his ambitions, his shared hatred for your father. You acquainted yourself thoroughly with him throughout his own narration of his life, and now, he had something to say to you.

Y/n,

Surely I’m gone by now. I’m leaving you my journal so hopefully you know more about me than just the stuff at the end. You seemed nice, I’m sorry we couldn’t get to know each other. Just know I’m not doing this because I don’t believe in you, I fully think you could have done it. I’m just sick of this. I’m sick of him. I’d rather be dead, at least then it won’t be something he wanted me to do. Please go after him still, he talked about making more, and nobody deserves to live the life he creates. I’m rooting for you.

-Daniel

He’d gotten caught on purpose, then. You’d pondered on the full lead up to the shooting, gone over all the possibilities in your head the whole night. That was a primary option - hell, you’d thought about meeting the same fate more than once. You lost count of how many times you re-read the note before placing the book under a coat near the door. You didn’t want someone to find it, feeling overly protective of the thing. He’d wanted you to have it, nobody else. A plan was sorting itself out in the confines of your working brain. You knew it was late, the rest of your team surely having clocked in hours ago. You thought about the likelihood of you being able to get your gear and talk to Garcia without alerting the others. The verdict chalked up to a lukewarm worth a try, so you set off. You left Aaron sleeping in your bed, driving to your place of employment in yesterday’s clothes, still wallowing in yesterday’s grief. Your reaction to Daniel’s death had been very public and was definitely noted down by all of your coworkers, but you couldn’t find any care for that in your head. You would wing it, come up with something on the spot, all that mattered was getting to Garcia and your bulletproof vest.

You pulled up to the building, fate winking down at you as you retrieved your protective gear and added it to your attire. They must be at the table, you thought. That left Garcia alone and available in her office. You didn’t bother knocking, calling her name as you walked in and nearly scaring the skin off her bones. 

“I need you to look for something.”

She stared, unblinking at you, turning fully away from her computers to face you. “Well, hello to you too.” It was weirdly calming to see someone in such a normal mood. “Where the hell did you and Hotch go last night? Everyone’s been worried sick.” She was speaking in rushed whispers even though her door was closed, trying to maintain privacy while simultaneously being away from any onlookers.

“Look, I know it’s weird. I’ll explain everything, but I need a favor first.”

“They always do.” She sighed, pursing her lips and spinning her chair to face the devices. “Shoot.” 

Fate was really on your side today. “I need you to look at buildings owned by McCaslister corp. Anything with a yellow roof.” In your obsessive readings of his journal, you’d swiftly taken note of the multiple mentions of the “yellow roof” building. Your father used to be a suck up to the CEO of McCaslister, and it would hardly surprise you if the company let him operate in a facility of theirs. They had thousands across the country, and you’d never had any semblance of guideline to narrow it down, so you figured mentioning the connection wouldn’t be helpful. All of that changed now, though, and you were cautiously hopeful. 

“I got nothing, girlie.” She delivered the news quickly, hands working vigorously as she typed. “Anything else I can look at?”

“Look for any building the company sold with a yellow roof.” Your father may have been too distrusting to take a favor. He was wealthy enough to buy something from them. The seconds passing felt stuck in your throat as you watched her work, scouring every database she both did and did not legally have access to in honor of fulfilling your request. 

Finally, she pulled up records of a contract signed the year you’d run away. It was signed by a “Humbert Haze” and you felt your stomach leap at the name. You always knew briefly of your father’s many aliases, guessing this one was a nod towards the Lolita obsession he’d held when you were younger. It had to be him. A lab with a yellow roof, big and desolate. It was in the middle of nowhere, perfect breeding grounds for an experiment such as this. You took a look at the address, burning it into your retinas to ensure you’d see it wherever you looked, and casted your sincerest possible gaze at Penelope. You remember her giving the team a combination of keys that would temporarily shut down her system lest there ever be another hacker that infiltrated the BAU. Using the dreaded fisher king scapegoat against her in a time like this was cruel, but cruelty was all you had right now.

“Please don’t hate me for this.” And then you hit it. You watched her screens go black instantaneously and her eyes spark with baffled suspension. You began your trip to hell quickly, Garcia stumbling up, her heels clicking from behind you.

“Wha - Y/n!” She was speaking as she walked. You hadn’t deserted her room yet, but as you reached the door she uttered one last plea. “What are you gonna do? You can’t do whatever it is you’re thinking on your own.”

You honestly didn’t know if you planned on coming back from this. You figured you might as well air some dirty laundry. “He was my brother, Pen.” You opened the door, turning back to add one thing before you left. “Tell them I’m sorry.” You heard her call out from her doorway one last time as you stalked away. Upon entering your car, you put the address into your GPS before you could forget it. Twenty minutes. It was odd to think about. Twenty minutes and you could end this. 

Penelope, in the meantime, was busy rushing to interrupt the team as they attempted a timeline of a new case. They’d moved on, not finding you or Hotch but knowing damn well there were always more cases to be solved. They’d all jumped in their seats as she burst in, detailing your interaction and getting increasingly panicked as she explained. She gave her theory of the motivations and possible family ties of everything, and no matter how far off it could have been, it was enough to earn the team’s immediate priority. When asked where it is you went, Garcia was faced with the steel-cold unknown. She hadn’t personally paid attention to the address, never predicting in a million years you’d fisher-king her system and render her technologically helpless. Everyone congregated in her office as she attempted to hack around her own barricades, watching as she essentially battled against herself. You’d known it would work out that way, only crashing her systems to buy yourself the needed confrontation time. They would find you, you were sure, but first you had to kill your father.

You pulled up, nearly a half hour later, to a little patch of woods giving way to a huge plot of land. A stark, sterile white building with a hunk of yellow adorning the top of it. It was hideous, perfectly fitting for a man like your dad. Your stomach bottomed out, the feeling you lived within for your first seventeen years burrowing back home inside you after being gone so long. He was definitely here. You could throw yourself to the opposite side of the Earth and you’d still possess that sixth sense you’d gained for his presence. The door was locked, but you couldn’t kick it in. You didn’t want to alert anyone - especially him - of your arrival. A sneak attack was the best shot you had at success. Plus, he could have more subjects or guards willing to protect him. You wouldn’t kill any more innocent lives he’d doomed to a fate of his choosing. You wouldn’t put down any more of his victims. You decided to pick the lock, a trick you’d picked up from one of your city friends, and slowly inched the door open just enough to slip through. It was sickeningly bright, fluorescent lighting giving the room a slight green hue that made your eyes ache in their sockets. You couldn’t imagine growing up here; at least you’d gotten a house. Hallways decorated with doors that were chained closed and name tags to match each door was the immediate sight. They were too far away to read, and they weren’t what you were here for anyway. You ventured past the entrance, reeled deeper into the belly of the beast, finding a common area with tables and a tv propped on a wooden stand. How many fucking people did he have here? You’d been careful, ducking behind corners, peeking around them before rushing to the next. You maneuvered your way through most of the building like this, finally coming up on the back of a madman. He was sat at a desk - presumably his workspace from the clutter of papers and tools - tinkering with some either useless or catastrophically destructive gadget. Your lips trembled, your tongue almost forbidding you to use your voice. A voice that was half his genes. You were half of this man. You were in so far over your head. 

You inhaled, silent and sharp, mustering all your strength to spout his full government name followed by you informing him of his arrest. You held him at gunpoint, your trigger finger begging you to press the texture of that angelic button. Put a formal and undeniable end to his reign of terror. “Stand up and look at me.” He stood up, turned and looked at you.

He scanned you up and down, scoffing at your attire. “How does someone with a kill count as high as yours end up an FBI agent?” His hands were up, per your command, but he stood as though he was in control. “Remind me not to trust our justice system.”

Your eyes practically receded into your skull with how far they rolled back. “Like you’d trust anyone. Agent or not. How much you shell out for this building, huh?”

“What exactly am I being charged for?” He held so still, but you were sure he’d start walking anytime. He liked to circle people, like a lion encroaching his target.

“Daniel. I want to know what happened.” He smiled, a grin like the Cheshire cat. Although looking at him now, he just looked demonic. “What did you do to him?”

He laughed at the audible ball in your throat. “It’s not as bad as you’re picturing, sweetheart.” He shrugged. “The kid even enjoyed the hunt sometimes.”

You don’t think you’d blinked the entire time you’d been aiming at him. “What’s behind the doors?” You jerked your head towards the entrance, referencing the hallway full of possible containment units. “You putting more of that DNA into innocent women? Make some more monster babies?”

He raised his eyebrows. “Unicorns, actually.” Fucking bastard. “Got bored of you bloodsuckers.”

You chuckled, sarcasm spewing from your mouth as your tongue met your cheek. “He died, you know?” You could still hear the gunfire from last night. “That’s all on you.”

He nodded. “Yeah, saw that on the news. Your boys did me a favor, honestly. Kid was drying up.”

“You’re heartless.”

“I’m a scientist.”

“We’re not some variables in a fucking equation, dad. You brought real people into this world and real people died because of it. You knew that would happen. You knew and you did it anyway.”

“You devastated my work, you know that?” He started walking, keeping his hands elevated but circling nonetheless. “You were my most impressive - credit where credit is due - but lord you made things difficult.” As he got closer, you got more on edge. You couldn’t predict him, you never could. “Had to start from scratch all over again. More women, more failures. How many do you think died because you ran away? That’s blood on your hands, Y/n.” Hands still up, he got maybe four feet away from you. You almost wanted him to charge, to give you justification to pull the trigger. “Daniel - well…he never quite lived up to you. I changed up my method, let him out of the house instead of giving him food and he just came crawling back. I almost wanted to let him go.” Two more steps, he just needed to try something. “Are you really gonna shoot me?”

You inhaled, tired and annoyed. “I’m just begging you to come and find out.” You cocked your head at him, ready to be done with this. “You were scary cause I was young, dad. Now you’re just a psychopath. I deal with you everyday.” 

He sharply exhaled, somewhere between a laugh and a scoff and looked down. He had his tongue to his cheek -a habit of yours that you only now realized came from him -  and his hand to his heart, feigning an injury like your words struck him deep. He charged a moment later, looking up swiftly and making a go at you. You gave in to the wail of your finger and fired two shots - straight to his heart. You were saddened, he was nearly submerged in his own blood within a minute, most likely dying quick. You’d wanted him to suffer more than that, but you supposed you couldn’t get everything you wanted. It was then, when you truly looked at the blood, you noted for the first time in your life how unappealing the substance was. Rather, the substance that leaked from his veins. You’d lived under the impression your whole life that just the sight of it would stimulate your appetite beyond belief, but looking at the near endless food supply spilling from him in buckets, you felt above it - above him. He was a tainted man, sick and soulless. His blood would be as foul as his actions had been, you wanted no part of it. He was dead, that was the only thing that mattered. An eye for an eye. 

You realized it had been over an hour since you left only when your team came barreling in. It had taken them longer than you expected to find you. They’d clearly woken Aaron up on their journey here, as he was newly dressed and suited up in his FBI vest. None of them were needed, not anymore, but their company was nice to have. You weren’t worried about losing your job - in fact, your body was more weightless than it’d been your whole life. Even with multiple decades free from your father, his eyes sat heavy on you always. The weight of his approval, of his words, actions - all of it was ingrained in you, was part of you. That feeling was finally gone. He had, more or less, confirmed he was housing experiments in those rooms. You could justify it all, they’d understand. You would plead your case, testify if you had to. You were in the right here, you would prove it if they wanted it. More people were called to the scene, you were questioned and asked to temporarily part with your badge until they processed your statement. You gladly gave it over, needing a break from your professional title. They bagged and removed his body while tears of pure ecstasy fell from your eyes. Without Frankenstein, were you truly bound to the identity of his monster? Who were you without your Achilles heel? As you stared forward, Aaron approached you, greeting you with a gentle disposition and a loving stroke of your arm. He’d asked to drive you home, you replied with a ‘please.’ 

Your home was how you left it, the only deviant being the sign of a rushed man that was painted on your sheets. They were tangled and distressed, evidently reflecting how Aaron was feeling as he’d toppled out of your house that morning.  “You scared us. We were all worried about you.”

You looked at him, dazed and affectionate. The day so draining that there was no longer a filter between your perception of him and what you allowed yourself to express. There was just you, very much in love with him and very obvious about it. “I’m sorry.” You were sorry for scaring them, not at all remorseful for the outcome, though. “Does Garcia want my head on a stick?”

He chuckled, sitting down on your bed. You were still stood in front of him, and he put his hands on your hips to inch you closer as he stared slightly up at you. His hands were warm, and you were nervous. “I think your next four paychecks are gonna need to go strictly to make up gifts if you ever want her to speak to you again.”

You sucked air between your teeth, grimacing at the thought. “I deserve that.” The heat of his hands was seeping into you, weaving into your skin. He seemed to be healing your internal tension from just his physical grip on your torso. “Guess I’ll start planning.” You looked down at him, the pure fondness that filled your eyes when directed at him seemingly mirrored in his own as he held the contact.

“I think that can wait till’ tomorrow.” He was nervous too, you realized. His hands were shaky through the firm grasp he had on you. “Do you want to talk?” You couldn’t decipher if he was referring to the situation that you were returning from, or the situation you both were currently in. Talking about either at the moment seemed much too taxing. You were pure instinct right now, leaning into his hands because of how good they felt, not because you could consciously recognize the meaning. 

You nodded. “In the morning.” You ran your hands along his shoulder, clasping your fingers around the back of his neck. You leaned down a little, resting your forehead against his. “I’m tired right now." If you thought you could beat sleep, you would have put it off forever to be awake with him. "Can you kiss me so I can go to bed?” Your eyes were closed, you assumed his were too, and you felt his slight laugh smudge his lips against yours. He followed the action with the pressure you’d been craving for years. Entirely consuming as he lead you, even from the physically submissive position, through the most anticipated kiss of your life. You could have stayed like that forever, feeling his grip get the slightest bit tighter on your hips to support some of your weight as you leaned down. Eventually, you both caved, him falling flat against the bed and you hovering above his waist before he pulled you down onto him in an action that seemed subconscious. He’d separated from you after a few minutes; snuffed it out before those tiny embers could fully ignite. He reminded you ‘in the morning,’ making you once again realize how much sleep beckoned to you. You agreed, ‘in the morning,’ and turned over to slot yourself against him. It was the best you’d slept in years - possibly ever - and you didn’t know if you could even rationalize how good life would be with Aaron in this aspect of it. He’d be in your home, perhaps even become it, and that thought struck you like the bullets struck the men of your family. You supposed now wasn’t the time to dwell on it. Sleep tugged your eyelids down, and his hold on you only amplified the sedation that was sweeping your system.

You would think about it in the morning.

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

happy 6k!! its well deserved! can i ask for secret relationship with Aaron Hotchner (if it hasn’t been requested yet) ♡︎

.⋆｡Serendipity｡⋆.

Aaron Hotchner x plus size reader

Something’s wrong with you, a subtle change taking place over months that your profiler co-workers haven’t noticed but one Penelope Garcia has

Warnings: secret relationship, fluff, Garcia snooping, mention of condoms/smut WC: 1.6k

6k Follower Celebration Bingo

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

Penelope was worried about you, to say the least. You had always been a bit of an introvert, preferring to stay home with your hobbies and books rather than go out to a bar with the rest of the team but over the last month, you had been far more reclusive than normal. She may not have been a profiler but she could see the way you hid your phone, the turtlenecks and scarves that now seemed to be a staple of your wardrobe, and most damning of all, the fact that you had avoided Girl’s Night.

And Penelope was going to get to the bottom of it.

“I need your help. Now.” She jammed her pen onto the end call button of her desk phone before the person on the other end of the line could answer. Her eyes were glued to the monitor in front of her, your social media page laid out across the screen. She had gone through every like, every comment, every follower and nothing seemed blatantly out of place but she knew she was missing something.

“C’mon baby, I know you’re somewhere in there.”

The door to her cave slammed open, revealing a slightly sweaty and very out of breath Dr Reid. “What! What is it? What’s wrong?”

Penelope spun her chair around and in a squeaky voice responded. “I don’t know!” Spencer’s distressed expression faded, however, as soon as he saw what she had been looking at in the first place. His eyebrows furrowed and he stepped into the room, the blue light of her monitors reflecting off his glasses. 

“Garcia, are those bank statements?” 

“Two days ago, Y/N went to the pharmacist at 10 pm. 10! Who goes to the pharmacy that late unless they’re hiding something.” Penelope gestured wildly at the list.

“Or we just got back from a case and she had to refill a prescription?” She scoffed and waved him off.

“Our copay isn’t that good. I only know one thing someone buys for $15 at a pharmacy after 8.” Spencer gave her a puzzled look, “Condoms Dr Reid! Condoms!” 

Red bloomed across his cheeks but Penelope continued. “And then I noticed something else, Y/N hasn’t been to a gas station in almost 6 months. Or at least if she has, she hasn’t been paying for gas. So, tell me what that means.” 

“Someone has been buying gas for her.” Spencer leaned forward, his hands now planted on the only empty spot on her desk. 

“Or…” She prompted.

“Someone’s been driving her around.” His glasses slid down the bridge of his nose.

“Which means…” Penelope gently pressed them back up his face as the realisation dawned upon the genius.

“She has a secret boyfriend.”

——————

“Are we positive that this is a good idea?” Spencer shoved his hands into his suit pants pocket as he nervously looked around the empty hallway. Penelope huffed as she moved the bags of takeout over to her left hand, the numerous bracelets on her wrist jingling.

“Look, either she comes clean and gives us all the details about this mystery beau or we get a nice night in with one of our best friends in the world.” She firmly knocked on the door, stopping any further protest from Spencer. 

There was a few seconds of quiet, then a scuffle behind the door. They looked at each other before the lock clicked and your face was between the crack. “Penelope?”

Spencer leaned over so his head was above Garcia’s. Your eyes met his, your frown deepening. “And Spencer. What are you guys doing here?”

Penelope shot a look over her shoulder that screamed ‘I told you so’ before she held up the brown paper bags and gave you a megawatt smile. “There’s a Doctor Who marathon on TV tonight so I thought we could surprise you since it’s been forever since we’ve hung out!” 

“I’m not exactly dressed for company. Do you think you could give me a minute?” You glanced at something in your apartment, giving Penelope the opportunity to poke Spencer in the arm.

“Do you think we could come inside to wait, it’s a bit chilly out here.” You sighed. The door opened slowly, revealing your state of half-undress, wearing only a shirt that definitely wasn’t yours and that did nothing to cover the discolouration around your neck that suspiciously looked like hickies. Sweat dotted your hairline, your chest heaved, and the soft, sensual music playing from your speaker was everything that they needed to know.

Penelope’s squeal of victory was swiftly cut off by a man’s arm wrapping around your wide hips and tugging you back from the door, away from their sight. “It seems we’ve been had.” A deep voice rumbled.

“No way.” They were frozen to the spot, left staring at the empty doorway.

“Well, come on in then. Whatever you brought smells good.” Spencer was the first one to move, stumbling over his own feet as he entered the apartment. Penelope followed, a slightly dazed look on her face.

When she finally regained her composure, you had disappeared into the bedroom, leaving one Aaron Hotchner standing in your living room, dressed far more casually than they had ever seen him before, a sly smile on his lips. He took the bags of take out from her and carefully placed them on the coffee table. 

He was relaxed, incredibly so. His body language open, his eyes even sparkled when you walked back out of your room, now more dressed than before. Spencer’s brain ticked over as he watched the way your fingers brushed Aaron’s arm, recalling every moment he could where your interactions had been anything more than platonic in the years you had worked for the BAU. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Penelope sounded genuinely heartbroken, which made you break away from Aaron and wrap her up in your arms.

“We wanted to keep it private at first, just to see where it went.”

“And Stauss wouldn’t exactly approve.” Aaron added as he started pulling out the food containers.

“A relationship between the chief of a unit and his subordinate isn’t exactly against any FBI rules but it is frowned upon. Not to mention the over 10 year age gap between the two of you might’ve raised eyebrows.” Spencer perked up, earning a scowl from said older man.

“Yes that too.” He cleared his throat. Your giggle was muffled by Penelope’s hair. She turned around in your embrace to give Aaron a dirty look yet remained clinging to you.

“You’ve stolen her from us, keeping her all to yourself all the time.” Her grip on you tightened. “And buying condoms! Who are you to defile this perfect being.” 

Aaron had the audacity to look a little bashful at that, though you caught the flash of a prideful grin before he quickly hid it behind his usual frown. “She is my girlfriend. But, I suppose I have been selfish.”

Spencer had disappeared into your kitchen to look for some plates, but he soon called out to you. “What utensils do you want me to use? There are far too many in this drawer.” You rolled your eyes and pried yourself from Penelope, now leaving her alone with your boyfriend.

Her firm expression didn’t waver. “You love her?”

“Yes.” He answered without hesitation.

“Are you going to ask her to marry you?” Aaron’s brown eyes darted to the kitchen and once he confirmed that you weren’t standing within earshot, he muttered.

“It’s early but yes.”

“You need my approval.” She crossed her arms over her chest but Aaron could clearly see the way she was fighting a smile. 

“Of course.” He nodded, popping open a container of dumplings and stealing one. 

“Good.” She plopped down onto your couch, evidently all her questions answered, and took the box from him. 

“Is that all?”

Her nose scrunched up. “Don’t get ahead of yourself Hotchner, you aren’t off the hook yet. I’m telling everyone you’ve both been lying to us for months.” 

“As long as it stays in the BAU.” You piped up, your hands now full of various forks and knives, Spencer trailing after you with plates in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other. “We don’t need to kick up a HR investigation just yet.”

“We’ll vouch for you both if it comes to that.” Spencer sat on the edge of the recliner so he could still reach the coffee table. You glided by Aaron, your shoulder purposefully brushing against his as you passed. Penelope patted the couch cushion beside her.

You grabbed the remote control and obeyed her hint, settling into the soft material with a sigh. 

“Now go, it’s our turn to get her.” Aaron just rolled his eyes playfully and kissed your forehead gently.

“Have fun you three, I’ll stay out of your hair.” You melted into his touch for just a moment before he pulled himself away to gather his things that he left on his your bedside table. “Although it’s been a while since I’ve spent the night by myself.” He teased.

That earned him a scoff from Garcia. “Go!” He raised his hands in defeat and left the three of you to the pile of food and your show. You accepted the offered plate from Spencer, it was silent save for the low voices from the TV and Aaron’s movements around your bedroom. 

Penelope had a pleased smile on her face, pride filling her chest. She had out-profiled a team of profilers before they had even realised something was off. And she had gotten an evening with you and Spencer through her genius. She pressed the side of her thigh against yours as you poured out some wine for each of them.

You grinned at her before you suddenly froze, a thought occurring to you.

“Pen… how did you know I had been buying condoms?”

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Mr Hotchner’s Live-in Nanny

Aaron Hotchner x plus size nanny!reader smut

7.7k words

18+ NSFW Minors DNI

Warning(s): insecurities, masturbation (m/f separate occasions), slight power imbalance (Aaron is employing reader), age gap, a smidgen of angst, both are pervy but Aaron is more than reader 🤭, panty sniffing, just using panties inappropriately, slight humiliation/degradation, pure filth honestly

Being the nanny for Aaron Hotchner wasn’t easy, and not because of his son. Jack is easy to take care of, always getting his homework done, enjoying whatever you provide for dinner, going to bed after a call with his father. The struggle? Having to sleep in Mr Hotchner’s bed. Surrounded by his scent, every night becomes harder and harder not to be filled with increasingly inappropriate thoughts about him. It’s only a matter of time before it all becomes too much for you.

This fic is incomplete cuz I lost steam writing it. If you wanna see more please lemme know!

“I’m so sorry it’s very last minute and late to be calling you in like this, it’s just I got the call-“

“-Mr Hotchner, I understand how unpredictable your job can be. Please don’t worry about it.” You cut the man off as you toed your shoes off neatly and hung your coat up on one of the hooks on the wall. Mr Hotchner smiled slightly and shook his head a little.

“Aaron. Mr Hotchner makes me feel old.”

You felt your cheeks flush and a shy upwards twitch of your lips caused his smile to broaden.

“Please don’t worry about it, Aaron.” You mumbled, shifting from one foot to the other. You were standing close enough to smell his cologne; the scent made your head feel a little hazy.

Aaron hummed softly and picked up his bag from the ground.

“I wrote out a list of things for you in advance about what Jack is up to at the moment, favourite things he’s eating too. He’s already in bed now, so you don’t need to worry about settling him down for the night. There’s also some cash located in my bedside drawer for you if need be.”

Your eyes widened.

“Mr Ho- Aaron! I-“

“-I insist on it. I don’t want you making purchases from your own pocket unnecessarily. Also,” his brows furrowed and he stared down at you, causing you to quiver slightly. “If I find out you’ve been sleeping on the couch again, instead of using my empty bed, I’m not going to be pleased. I don’t want you sacrificing your back and sleep, okay?”

You nodded slightly, your heart racing. Sleeping in his bed was a bad idea, but you knew he would know if you hadn’t. His whole room smelled of him, and the knowledge you’d be sleeping where he slept, where he dressed and undressed, where he got himself off-

You needed to stop.

“I’ll… I’ll sleep in the bed, I promise.”

“Good… don’t worry, I changed the sheets whilst I was waiting for you to arrive. I wouldn’t make you sleep on sheets I’d been on before you.” He said. You fought the urge to frown. You didn’t know how to feel about that. Something flashed within his eyes, but it was gone after a mere moment and he retreated towards the front door.

“I’m going to head off now, I’ll keep you updated on what I can. And if you need anything, please contact me or Jessica.”

You smiled and stepped back to give him the space to open the door again and leave.

“Best of luck to you and the team, I hope it goes okay.” You said softly, and he hummed.

“Thank you, (Y/n). I’ll see you soon.”

“Bye.”

As soon as the door clicked shut, you locked up and turned around to face the rest of the apartment. Carrying your bag down the hallway and branching off into the living room so you could sit down on the couch for a moment. You weren’t quite ready to make your way to Mr Hotchner’s bedroom, even if you were feeling tired. You knew he’d know if you hadn’t used the bed, so now you were psyching yourself up to do so. A part of you was still disappointed you’d not be sleeping on the sheets he’d just been using, but the other part of you scolded yourself for being creepy. You had to be thankful he thought to change them for you.

Sighing softly, you pushed yourself up off the couch after a while and grabbed your bag. You shuffled through the apartment, checking to make sure the windows were closed and locked and switching the lights off, then poked your head through the doorway to Jack’s room.

Sleeping soundly.

A soft smile tugged at your lips as you carefully closed the door behind you. Now you had to face the real challenge. You could see the door to Mr Hotchner’s room and you tentatively approached it. Drawing in a deep breath, you pushed open the door and stepped into the room, flicking the light on.

Almost immediately, the scent of his cologne invaded your senses and you shivered slightly as you closed the door and crossed the room to the bed. Indeed, the steel gray sheets were fresh and pristine, ready for you to settle on. You set your bag down on the foot of the bed and sat down beside it and sighed. As nervous as you were being in here, there was also a sense of security surrounding you. You may be shy around Mr Hotchner, but he also had a comforting air to him and you felt safe in his presence. Definitely someone you’d have more than been happy to be in a relationship with-

Best not to think about it.

A yawn cut off your thoughts and your eyelids drooped a little; you definitely needed to settle down for the night. You rummaged around in your bag and pulled out your sleepwear, then began to tentatively strip off your clothes. It felt strange and embarrassing to be getting undressed in his bedroom, your thoughts wandering as you imagined what it would be like to be stripping with him in the room with you. Imagining his dark eyes wandering over your body, admiring every curve and dip and mark. Probably not. You’d seen photos of his late ex-wife, Jack had shown you one random evening when he was feeling sad. She was a beautiful woman, you could see why Aaron had fallen for her in the first place. She was everything you weren’t, there was no reason why he would ever look your way. Not to mention, even if it wasn’t for your larger size than her, you were much younger than Mr Hotchner.

You scoffed at yourself and tugged your pajamas on begrudgingly. It was inappropriate and silly to be even fantasizing about him, given you were a live-in nanny for his son. With a sigh, you headed into the en-suite bathroom with your toiletries and finished off your nightly routine ready to head to bed. You’d unpack properly tomorrow. For now, you pulled back the covers on the bed and drew in a deep breath. Time to face this battle.

Choosing the side nearest the bathroom door, you stared at the bed for a moment before climbing on and rolling onto your back. You wondered to yourself if this was the side Aaron slept on. The thought of it made you squirm a little and shift over to laying on your side. To distract yourself, you pulled your phone off the bedside table to double check your alarms were set and finally, you placed it back down and forced yourself to close your eyes. It didn’t take you too long to drift off to sleep.

Several days had passed and you were really starting to struggle now.

During the day it was fine. You would wake up and quickly do your morning routine and dress, wake up Jack and feed him and get him washed and dressed for school. After you’d dropped him off you would take care of any errands before you returned back to the apartment, where you’d focus on any remote work you had to do until it was time to collect Jack again. And even during the late afternoon and evening things were fine, focusing on taking care of Jack and entertaining him until bedtime. A phone call with his dad always happened if Mr Hotchner was available would end the night and Jack would settle down to sleep when the call ended. But even just hearing his voice drawl through the phone caused your heart rate to increase and your body to feel warm.

Which now left you alone with your thoughts.

As exhausted as you’d end up by the end of a long day, you’d delay the inevitability of crawling back into Mr Hotchner’s bed, back to where you were surrounded by him. But even you couldn’t stave off the need for sleep forever and eventually you found yourself returning to that bedroom, back to his scent, with your thoughts running wild.

You didn’t know how much more you could take. Every night you would lay in his bed and tried desperately to ignore the ache between your plush thighs, desperately trying to resist touching yourself. It would be beyond inappropriate, disgusting, rude, yet the temptation only grew with each passing night. But a simple phone call from Mr Hotchner after Jack had retired for the night tipped you over.

Settling down in the bed, you reached for the bedside light when your phone screen lit up and your ringtone filled the room. You jolted, reaching for the device and your eyes widened when you saw who was calling you. Fumbling to sit up, you grabbed your phone and answered, pressing it to your ear.

“H-hello? Mr Hotchner?”

“Aaron. Call me Aaron. Good evening though, (Y/n). I’m sorry this is so late.”

Your mouth felt dry all of a sudden, chest tight as you scrambled to answer.

“Sorry- Aaron! Um, it’s alright. Is everything okay?” You asked, trying your best to mask the nervous pitch in tone. On the other end you could have sworn you heard the man chuckle or hum, but you weren’t certain.

“I’m okay, I promise. I didn’t mean to worry you with this call.” There was a rustling of fabric and the creaking of a chair before Mr Hotchner continued. “I wanted to check up on you actually.”

Your heart fluttered again as you fought the urge to giggle shyly.

“O-oh! Of course, yes! I’m doing alright, managing keeping the household together and making sure Jack is looked after and all that. And I’m getting my own remote work done just fine! It’s been great as always!” You said enthusiastically, earning a hum of approval that shot heat straight to your core.

“Good… and I hope you’ve kept your promise, (Y/n), and are not sleeping on the couch again.” Mr Hotchner said, causing you to tense up at the stern tone.

“N-no I’m not! I promise I’ve been sleeping in y- the bed, Aaron. Much more comfy.”

You heard him hum again and your mouth opened and closed a few times, struggling to talk to him all of a sudden. “I- I’m in the bed right now, actually. I was about to go to sleep.”

“I see… I won’t keep you awake any longer then.”

“A-ah! How are- how’s things on your end, huh?” You scrambled words together as you desperately pressed him to keep talking, trying to ignore the way your body burned hotter the longer the conversation continued.

Mr Hotchner chuckled softly at your tone, which only served to worsen the situation between your thighs, and he sighed.

“I’m fine. I haven’t told Jack about it yet, but we finished the case and will be heading back tomorrow morning. I’ll be home in the evening.”

Tomorrow!? Such a vital piece of information almost instantly lost within the way he spoke so smoothly it was like a hum. And instead you wished he was there with you right now murmuring sweet praises to you as his hands feathered across your skin, caressing and groping every curve and roll as he worked his way down-

“Are you alright?”

Mr Hotchner’s voice brought you back from your thoughts and you flushed immediately, wiggling a little within the sheets as you felt the ache of your core growing worse by the minute.

“Um! I- sorry, I’m so very sleepy, I zoned out for a moment,” you said quickly as you kicked the sheets off of your body. “But I’m- I’m glad you and the team are doing okay though and are returning tomorrow!”

“Mhm… perhaps I should let you get some sleep now then, you indeed sound very tired.”

It took every ounce of strength not to whimper.

“Y-yes, I’m going to get some sleep now, Mr Hotchner. You should, uhm, do the same.” You said as your legs trembled. Mr Hotchner hummed once more, tapering off into a slight chuckle and you wondered if he was doing it all on purpose. Impossible.

“Oh, I will. Sleep well, (Y/n).”

Your breath quivered.

“G-good night, Mr Hotchner.”

The second the line cut off, you threw your phone onto the mattress beside you and covered your face with your hands. You wanted to scream, body burning with arousal to the point it could drive you mad. Your legs were trembling so much it was embarrassing, parted to stop even the slightest bit of sensation brushing against your cunt. This was dangerously inappropriate. Awful, disgusting. And yet… you lowered one of your hands from your face and slid it down your soft body, rising and dipping along every bump and roll of your stomach.

You shouldn’t. This was perverted and gross to even contemplate touching yourself in your employer’s bed whilst he was away. But… you could just strip the bed anyway. It would be fine. He wouldn’t have to know. And thus, using both hands, you pushed your shorts and panties down your plump thighs and kicked them off the rest of the way carelessly. Spreading your legs, you whimpered softly as the cool air of the room caressed your slit. You were soaked. Your chest heaved as you hesitated one last time.

You really shouldn’t do this.

But even then, as the thought of his sensually soft, deep voice filled your mind, your hand slipped lower until you were able to drag a finger from your entrance to your clit. You gasped out. You were wetter than you’d ever been before, the slight brush of your finger against your clit causing your hips to jolt.

Pressing your lips together to keep quiet, you began rubbing slow circles round and round the sensitive bundle of nerves, eyes fluttering shut. God, you’d been pent up for so long and unable to do anything about it. You worked quickly, not wanting to risk being interrupted, hips bucking and writhing as your pleasure mounted.

You needed Mr Hotchner, really needed him. You’d been attracted to him right from the start. He was too gorgeous, too kind and caring, too authoritative and powerful… you wanted him to want you, but you knew that would be highly unlikely and inappropriate. The thoughts of him manhandling you and wrecking you so deliciously always lingered regardless though. And with the last remnants of his lingering scent in the room surrounding you, it was impossible to not desire him as much as you did right now.

Your brows creased and your body rippled when the pleasure mounted and crashed down over you, pressing your lips together so not to moan or even whisper his name as you came hard. And when it finally passed, you lay there while you caught your breath. You did not just do that.

Shame burned within you then when you came to terms with what had just transpired. You’d just masturbated in your employer’s bed whilst you fantasized about him. And you were still responsible for his son who was only a few doors down the corridor. You whimpered.

A moment later, you pushed up off the bed and fished for your shorts that had been kicked away within the sheets and you scrambled to pull them back on so you could clean up in the bathroom.

Sleep was harder to come by that night, tossing and turning within the sheets until the early hours, and then when sleep finally came it was far from restful. The next morning you managed to act as normal around Jack, waking him up and getting him ready for school. Once he’d been dropped off, you returned to the Hotchner residence and immediately stripped Mr Hotchner’s bed, bundling the sheets up and leaving them neatly in the middle of the bed to deal with later. It was near impossible to focus on any single task however, nervous about Mr Hotchner returning later and somehow knowing exactly what you’d done. You powered through as best you could though, making sure the house was clean and tidy ready for his return. Briefly, you’d texted one another and, with his permission, you told Jack about his dad’s return that day when you picked the boy up from school.

Understandably, Jack was more than excited, chatting giddily to you at a speed that not even himself could keep up with, his words jumbling together on occasion. It was endearing though, and it allowed you to focus on his joy for a while instead.

That is, until you heard the sound of the key being inserted into the lock and being turned.

You froze.

Jack had been in the middle of building a new Lego set when he heard the same noise and before you knew it, he was up on his feet and rushing to the door enthusiastically chanting “daddy!” as he went. You followed behind the young boy and you heard Mr Hotchner before you saw him, animatedly greeting his son after he locked the door. When you reached the duo you couldn’t help but smile at the sight of Mr Hotchner holding Jack in his arms while the young boy had his arms wrapped around the back of his father’s neck as they chatted.

Upon spotting you in the doorway to the living area, Mr Hotchner maneuvered Jack to carry him with one arm and smiled softly at you.

“Hey, thank you for taking care of things. How has it been?” He spoke gently, and your heart fluttered despite the imminent anxiety still lingering.

“It’s been fine as always, Jack’s a great kid.”

The young boy grinned at you and giggled.

“You’re great too!” He cried and your smile grew.

Just as Mr Hotchner began to lower himself down to pick up his bag again, you quickly rushed over and playfully swatted his hand away and grabbed it before him.

“Oh no you don’t, mister! I’ve got it!” You teased and straightened up just as he did the same. He hummed softly and his smile remained, though more tired and you knew you wouldn’t leave until he had a meal.

“Thanks,” he said quietly, following you as you led him to the living room. “You don’t need to take care of me, it’s alright.”

You shrugged.

“You’re exhausted. I’m not leaving until you’ve got a meal in you.” You scolded, but your nerves got the best of you when he raised a brow. “If- if you wanted. I can, um, leave whenever you’d like me to.”

The soft look in his eye hardened slightly and he remained standing for a moment longer, despite the weight of exhaustion pulling his shoulders down.

“(Y/n). I said you didn’t have to take care of me, but that doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate it.”

Your cheeks felt a little flushed as you smiled and glanced away, your shoulders raising slightly.

“That’s true. W-well, you just sit there for a while and catch up with Jack, I’ll take your bag to your room and get started on dinner.” You said and began to walk away. But as Mr Hotchner spoke again you froze in your tracks.

“I should probably get out of these clothes into something more comfortable actually.”

You whipped around, unable to stop the way your eyes blew wide. He raised a brow again at you, waiting for you to say something.

“A-ah! I forgot to wash the sheets! I’m so sorry, Mr Hotchner-“

“-Aaron.”

“A-Aaron. Um! I’ll change the sheets for you though before I leave!” You scrambled, earning a perplexed look from the man before you.

Shaking his head, he slowly approached you and gently took his bag out of your hands, his fingers brushing against yours, and smiled.

“I’ve got it. Don’t worry about that. You’ve done more than enough, thank you.” His voice was so soft, almost like a serenade and you drew in a deep breath as discreetly as you could muster.

“Okay… I’ll start on dinner for you.”

Your heart began to race and all you could do was desperately hope he wouldn’t suspect anything when he entered his bedroom.

At some point during the food preparation, Mr Hotchner reappeared wearing a plain, navy blue tee that clinged to his torso snugly, and some sweatpants which you forced yourself not to glance down at as they were a little too snug around his hip area. His hair was sticking up in some areas and laying flat on his forehead in others and you quivered slightly, realising he’d been in the shower. But you couldn’t focus on that right now, instead aiding Jack in learning how to steam vegetables. The young boy grinned when he spotted his father, holding up a slotted spoon.

“Look, daddy! (Y/n) is showing me how t’ steam vege-tals!” He exclaimed, causing you to beam proudly. Mr Hotchner chuckled and approached the two of you, his eyes glancing around the kitchen.

“That’s great, buddy! What’s on the menu tonight?” His eyes shifted to you, his gaze more intense than you were expecting.

You shifted slightly but held strong, offering him a confident smile.

“Chicken parmesan, steamed vegetables and mashed potatoes.” You said, then held a finger up to refrain Mr Hotchner from saying anything yet. “And yes, I’ve put extra butter in the potatoes for you.”

He chuckled again and smiled, murmuring a quiet ‘thank you’. You watched as he fixed himself a drink, for now sticking with water until, you assumed, Jack had gone to bed.

After an almost playful debate, you’d managed to convince Mr Hotchner to sit at the table while you finished off cooking and plating the meal for him, and as he ate and Jack sat chatting to him, you cleaned up in the kitchen ready for going home. You were about to disappear off to grab the sheets to wash, only to hear your name being called. You froze and glanced back, finding the older man staring at you with a brow raised.

“Where are you going?” He asked, his voice smooth. You smiled slightly.

“Just going to grab those sheets and put them in the wash for you, Mr Hotchner!”

“Aaron. You know how I feel about you calling me that.” He scolded you, rising from his seat and picking his plate up to clear it away.

“S-sorry, Aaron. But! I’ll just be a moment!”

“(Y/n). It’s alright, I will wash them.” He said with finality and your shoulders slumped defeatedly.

“Alright… um. I think I’d better be heading home now, it’s getting late.”

Mr Hotchner hummed.

“Just a moment while I get your check for you.”

You followed him as he trailed into the living room, where Jack at some point ventured to so he could continue building his lego set, and sat down on the couch, your bag propped up against the side of it ready for you to take home. Just as Mr Hotchner began rummaging in a drawer to find where he kept his checks, Jack perked up and his eyes widened.

“Is (Y/n) going home?” He asked, to which you leaned forward and smiled softly at him.

“Only for now, but I’ll be back soon.”

Jack pouted and scrunched his eyebrows together, much like his father would do, and he slumped back.

“I don’t want you to go!” He cried, which caused Mr Hotchner to turn around and take a step towards his son so he could kneel beside him.

“Come on, buddy. (Y/n) will be back to stay again soon, alright?” He reassured the boy, resting his hand on his shoulder. Jack sighed softly but nodded slightly.

“Jus’ want us to all live together.” He mumbled and hopped off the couch whilst you froze and tried your hardest to avoid looking at Mr Hotchner. You’d be lying if you were to say you’d never thought of that before, but you knew there was no chance of that ever coming to fruition. Even if not for the fact you were just a live-in nanny, making such a thing inappropriate, it just didn’t feel realistic to you for Mr Hotchner to ever return the feelings you had for him. Jack yawned and stumbled slightly as he shifted from one foot to the other, bringing you out of your thoughts.

“I’m kinda tired, can you tuck me in, (Y/n)? Please?”

“I…” now you had to look at him, to which he nodded slightly at you in approval. You smiled at Jack and rose up from the couch as well, offering your hand. “Alright, Jack-Attack. Let’s get you all ready for bed.”

You avoided Mr Hotchner’s gaze as you passed him by, following behind Jack towards his bedroom. You supervised while he brushed his teeth and waited for him to finish off his nightly routine before you entered the room to tuck the boy in. When he was settled down under his blankets, you went to straighten up but Jack grasped your hand lightly to stop you. You knelt back down, brows creased.

“What is it, bud?”

The boy pointed at his cheek and jutted out his lower lip.

“Mommy used to give me goodnight kisses, I really miss them. Could you give me one?” He asked shyly. You opened your mouth but quickly closed it again, your eyes flicking to the doorway where you noticed Mr Hotchner now stood leaning against the door frame.

“I don’t…”

“Please?”

Your eyes returned to Jack, who was watching you expectantly. You puffed out a small breath through your nose and smiled.

“Alright, you get all comfy now.” You finally said and the bright grin in return made your heart soar. When Jack was comfortable, you leaned down to press a kiss to his little forehead and pulled back.

“Night night, Jack-Attack.”

He smiled sleepily.

“G’night…”

You carefully tiptoed out of the room and skirted past Mr Hotchner as best you could, who was still standing in the doorway, and he entered the bedroom to give Jack a goodnight from himself as well. You waited outside the room, your heart racing in anticipation, and your hands curled into tight fists when he stepped out of the bedroom, closing the door quietly. He was alarmingly close, close enough that your bodies brushed against one another and you quickly stepped away to return to the living room.

“I- I think I’ll be heading off now, Mr H- Aaron.” You said, hearing his footsteps follow behind you.

“I have your check ready here.” You heard him speak, and when you had grabbed your bag and made your way to the door, you dared to turn around towards him. He was close to you once again, his eyes studying you carefully and causing you to tremble. But you merely smiled as convincingly as you could at him.

“Thank you- um, you can contact me any time if you need me again. It’s no trouble.”

The man handed over the check to you and smiled, though there was a strange glint in his eye that you couldn’t pinpoint on. You glanced away so you could put the check in your bag.

“Thank you for coming on short notice when you did. I know a lot of people, understandably, don’t usually do that sort of thing.” Mr Hotchner said, his voice warm and almost with a hint of allure. You shrugged and smiled shyly.

“I don’t mind coming to help. Um. But anyway, I’ll see you soon then, Aaron. Have a nice night-“

“-is everything alright though? With you personally?” He cut you off not impolitely, causing you to freeze. You turned back to him fully and blinked innocently.

“O-of course! I’ve just got a lot on my mind at the moment, that’s all.” You explained, but the man before you didn’t appear to take the answer as is. However, he simply nodded and hummed quietly.

“Okay… you can talk to me anytime though if you need someone to talk to, doesn’t matter what it’s about. I care about you.”

It was as though you’d swallowed a kaleidoscope of butterflies the moment you’d registered what he said, and you forced yourself to hold off from reacting in any way as much as you could. But knowing he cared about you…

“Thank you… I care about you too.”

“I know.” He smiled, which sent a jolt through your body. Alright, you really had to leave now.

You dipped your head again a little and smiled, tightening your grip on your bag as you stepped backwards.

“Okay, please do contact me if you need me. I’m gonna head home now. Good night, Aaron.”

“Get home safe.”

You rushed out as soon as you heard the locks click and your heart pounded in your chest, stressed out about the bedsheets. You felt as though he knew something had happened, but you weren’t sure if that was simply you being paranoid. Regardless though, you climbed into your car after throwing your bag on the passenger seat and set off home.

Aaron knew something was off about your body language when he’d arrived back home. And your worry over his bedsheets you’d stripped off the bed but forgotten to wash was especially suspicious to him. So while you set about cooking something for him, he retired to his room to take a shower and dress in something more casual- and see what you were stressed about.

At first, he had assumed perhaps you’d spilled something on them, but the more he unravelled them the more he began to suspect you’d partook in certain… activities. He’d never admit it to anyone, but he brought the sheets to his nose and his entire body tensed. As a man who had both been married and dated since his divorce, he now knew exactly what you’d been up to in his bed. He clenched his jaw and forced himself to focus on appearing nonchalant until you eventually left, then he would be able to think more about it.

It was easier to keep his bodily functions in check while Jack was around. Even imagining you were a family trio as he watched you interact and take care of his son. It made his feelings surrounding you both more complex and so clear; he wanted to be with you, for you to be his girlfriend instead of his live-in nanny. And it certainly didn’t help when Jack had protested to you leaving, for wanting you to give him a forehead kiss before he settled down to sleep- just as Haley used to do.

But it was wrong. He was far older than you, had a lot of baggage and a demanding job. He felt far past his prime at this point in his life as well. Then again though…

After double checking every window to make sure they were all locked, Aaron trekked through the apartment to his bedroom and closed the door behind him. He turned to face the bed, the sheets now a messy pile after he’d rummaged through them a little.

It was ridiculous, he should just wash them and say nothing about it, to not make you feel embarrassed. He sighed heavily and approached them to pick them up, only to notice something tangled up within the grey fabric, something lacy.

There was no way…

Cautiously, Aaron pulled on the lacy fabric, his brows furrowing as it stretched under the strain, until it finally released and snapped back into his hand. Oh.

There was no doubting what he had in his hands now; these were your panties. He felt his cock twitch in his sweatpants and slowly, he brought the little bit of fabric to his nose and inhaled. Fuck, you naughty girl. Aaron’s cock twitched again, beginning to strain against his boxers uncomfortably. Squeezing his growing bulge, he brought the panties back to his nose to inhale deeply again and groaned gutturally at the back of his throat. This was far from appropriate, shameful even. But as Aaron inhaled once again, he had made up his mind and struggled to pull his cock out of his clothing.

He worked his hand eagerly, he hadn’t had the time to get himself off lately, but this was an instance he just could not ignore. The scent of your panties drove him wild, knowing your arousal had dampened the fabric at one point before you’d removed them. Moaning quietly, struggling to keep his sounds to a minimum, Aaron felt his orgasm approaching rapidly with every inhale. Without giving it much thought, he then wrapped your panties around the length of his cock to jerk off with them, his thoughts running wild as he thought about you in the way he’d always secretly done so. And as his hips bucked and his cock twitched, he held the garment in front of his tip to catch the spurts of cum that erupted from him, his eyes shut tight and he rasped out your name. Somehow, he’d remained standing, but he soon lowered himself to the mattress to sit down and he reopened his eyes to assess what he’d done.

Fuck.

Thick ropes of cum had splattered onto your panties, soaking into the fabric and turning it almost slightly translucent. Aaron was still softening, but the sight made his cock twitch as he imagined how you’d look wearing your cum soaked panties before him. He scoffed quietly and shook his head. He needed to have a talk with you.

For now, he focused on cleaning up and washing your panties, hanging them up in his en suite to dry. He turned to the bed and picked up the bundle of bedsheets into his arms and carried them off to the washer. With that dealt with, he put on a fresh set of sheets on his bed and sighed deeply as he sat down. He didn’t expect sleep to come easily that night.

All day your body was filled with the roiling discomfort of anxiety to the point where you could barely focus on your work. Anytime your phone screen lit up your body would tense up and your eyes would zero in on it, both hoping and dreading it would be Mr Hotchner. So far, it hadn’t been, but the dread that it could be the next notification to arrive consumed your entire day. Before you knew it, the sun had long since begun to set below the horizon line. And that was when you finally received a text from him.

You stared at the screen. Nothing seemed too out of the ordinary… perhaps you’d been worrying for nothing after all. With a shaky exhale, you quickly sent a reply back to him and rushed around to grab some clothes for an overnight bag.

Despite the unassuming text from Mr Hotchner, your stomach coiled regardless throughout the drive over to his apartment. You forced yourself to swallow your worries when you parked up, drawing in a deep breath and slowly releasing it before you stepped out of your car with your bag. It was still chilly at night, and your choice of clothing was hardly anything suitable for the outdoors. You quickly rushed into the building, passing the front desk where the evening security sat at the front desk, and you continued on upwards toward your destination. The elevator ride both felt too long and short, an uncomfortable fluttering within your chest making it hard for you to sit still. Before long, you were stepping out onto the floor and you trudged along to the correct door.

Despite owning your own keys for the apartment, you always knocked first to let Mr Hotchner, or whoever, know you were there. Shortly after you’d knocked, you heard the click of the locks and the door swung open for you, revealing the very man you both loved and now dreaded right before you. Except… he wasn’t wearing his usual put together suit and tie. Rather, he was wearing a dark blue button down and dark jeans. You blinked a few times, then smiled.

“H-hello, Mr Hotchner! I got here as soon as I could. Is Jack in bed already?” You spoke quickly, your eyes flicking around the entryway looking for the little boy who normally greeted you when he was awake.

“Come in, (Y/n). And please, call me Aaron.” Mr Hotchner’s voice rumbled, causing you to wince slightly and step inside the apartment. The door was closed behind you and you toed your shoes off while you heard him set the locks.

“Right- sorry, Aaron.”

“To answer your question: Jack is at a sleepover right now.”

Wait-

Jack wasn’t even home? They why did…

Your brows furrowed a little as you turned back to the man, the grip on your bag tightening.

“If- if Jack isn’t here then… why did you want me to come?” You asked him slowly. Mr Hotchner’s expression was unreadable and he merely signaled with his finger for you to follow him.

“There’s something I need to discuss with you.”

Oh no.

“Okay…”

Your heart was racing again, causing you to feel nauseous. You followed behind him towards the dining area where he pulled a chair out for you to sit down.

“Do you want anything to drink?”

You shook your head.

“No thank you, um. I’m… not getting fired, am I?” You mumbled, your eyes following Mr Hotchner’s movements as he pulled the chair next to you out and settling down on it. You forced yourself to look away from the way his legs were splayed out casually, temptingly.

“You left something behind,” he began, stuffing his hand into his pocket. “These are yours, I presume?”

His hand retrieved a scrap of fabric from his pocket, something you instantly recognised to be your panties. Oh god. Your mouth felt dry.

“I- y-yes, those are mine.”

Mr Hotchner’s brows were pulled together as he studied you, the intensity of his gaze intimidating.

“I thought so.”

“Wh-where did- um, where did you find them?” You dared ask, your hands beginning to tremble. His eyes narrowed.

“Tangled up in my bedsheets.” He said sharply. He made no move to hand the panties to you. “Which leads to my question: did you touch yourself the night before my return yesterday?”

Fuck. Of course he knew.

Your trembling began to intensify as your brain worked overtime to think of an answer. He watched as your mouth opened and closed a few times, words failing to pass your lips. After a moment more, you sighed and slumped, bowing your head.

“I- I did, Mr Hotchner. I’m so, so sorry for my inappropriate behaviour.” You said sincerely, your eyes stinging with shame.

“Look at me when you talk to me.”

Mr Hotchner’s tone startled you to sit up straight, lifting your head immediately. Your lower lip wobbled.

“I’m sorry, I- I know it was very wrong for me to do that! I just-“

“-you just can’t help yourself from fantasising about me. Is that right?” He cut you off.

You were frozen. This was not happening. A harsh scoff forced you to return your attention to the man sitting beside you.

“We don’t have all night, (Y/n).”

A soft sigh escaped you and your hands moved to grip the chair either side of your thighs.

“You’re right… I’m sorry, Mr Hotchner. I- I didn’t mean to develop feelings or anything for you, it just… sort of happened.” You spoke softly, on the verge of tears. You watched as Mr Hotchner’s eyes widened slightly and he quickly dropped the panties on the table to reach for your hands.

“Hey, hey. I’m sorry, please don’t cry. I was, uh, trying to be stern but in a… suggestive way. That clearly was a mistake on my part.” His tone was gentler now and he leaned in towards you while his thumbs rubbed against the backs of your hands.

Your breath hitched slightly.

“Wh-why would you…”

Mr Hotchner cleared his throat and averted his eyes, his lips twitching a little as he fought off a small smile.

“Well… it would be a lie if I was to say I didn’t share the same feelings for you in return.” He confessed. It was your turn for your eyes to widen, staring at him as your heart fluttered.

Now this surely wasn’t happening right now, and yet it definitely was. You didn’t realise you’d shed a tear until one of his hands let go of yours to brush away the droplet from your cheek affectionately.

Oh.

“I- you have- um, feelings for me?” You had to be sure, to confirm it was true. He nodded and grinned.

“I do, yes. Maybe it’s inappropriate to have feelings for someone I’m employing to take care of my son, especially with the age gap we have, but…” his expression hardened and his eyes narrowed. “Do you have any idea what you do to me? What you’ve been doing to me this whole time that I’ve known you?”

You shifted in your seat.

“M-Mr Hotchner… I-“

“-what do I have to do to get you to call me Aaron, huh?”

Aaron’s tone shift made you jolt and your cheeks felt hot as you pressed your thighs together. He was leaning forward in his chair, closer than you’d realised, and you bit your lower lip, slowly letting it slip out from between your teeth. You watched as his eyes flicked down to your lips, then back to the rest of your face and you whimpered.

“It- it’s just a force of habit… um, Aaron.” You said quietly, your heart racing. Aaron hummed and leaned even closer to speak barely above a whisper.

“It makes me feel so much older than you, but now I don’t think that’s such a bad thing, is it?”

You trembled.

“N-no…”

“Mhm. Now, come here.”

Squirming a little, you rose to your feet and tentatively closed the little space between you just as he shifted in his seat to spread his legs slightly, allowing you to stand between them shyly. Aaron hummed and lifted his hands to grip your squishy waist and pull you even closer. You squeaked and lost your balance, having to brace yourself against his shoulders. And as you glanced down in surprise, you realised his face was smushed into the top of your soft stomach- just below your breasts. He peered up at you unmoving from his position, the twinkle in his eye suggesting he was smirking. You tried pulling away, fearing you were squishing him, but he held on firmly.

“H-hey! What are-“

Aaron puffed out a breath against you and reluctantly pulled away from your body, his brows raised ever so slightly.

“Can’t I enjoy you, hm? You fit perfectly against me.” He murmured, encouraging you to straddle his lap and settle down. He hummed again. “That’s a good girl.”

Fuck. Your body froze, your stomach coiling as you gasped softly.

“A-Aaron-“

“Is this okay?”

His tone was different, more hesitant, as though worried he’d taken a step too far. A little giggle bubbled out from your chest and your body relaxed into him, your hands resting on his shoulders.

“It-it is. Sorry, I’m just a little shy and embarrassed is all.” You said softly.

Aaron cupped your cheeks and smiled.

“It’s alright, sweet girl. Will you let me kiss you?”

Your breath hitched.

“Yes.”

As he tilted his head up to lean in, you met him in the middle and your lips pressed against one another’s, your heart fluttering in your chest. Your hands tightened their grip on his shirt, scrunching the fabric between your fingers as you moved together. Only when you both needed oxygen did you finally break apart, a little breathless as you grinned at one another. Finally, all you’d wanted was him. You both merely gazed at one another, the grin on Aaron’s face causing you to giggle softly and card your fingers through his short, dark hair. He hummed softly and his entire body relaxed under your touch, but suddenly he was gripping you tightly and pulling you further onto him to straddle his lap.

“A-Aaron! What are you doing-“

“-don’t think I have forgotten why we got in this predicament, naughty girl.” Aaron rumbled, his hands now dangerously close to gripping onto your ass. You jolted slightly, eyes blown wide and you glanced to the table where your panties still lay. You swallowed thickly.

“I-I-“

Aaron tilted his head slightly and narrowed his eyes at you.

“You thought I’d just… forget, hm?” He said quietly and picked up the small scrap of fabric in his big hand, making you quiver. “Oh no, you have no idea how impossible it is for me to forget such a thing.”

You gasped when he brought them to his nose right in front of you and inhaled, but his brows furrowed and he sighed.

“I washed them, of course. But before that…”

Oh.

You squirmed.

“M-Mr Hotchner, you…”

He lifted his gaze up to your eyes and looked at you expectantly.

“Yes?”

You swallowed thickly and tightened your thighs around him.

“You… you sniffed my panties?” You asked meekly, and Aaron chuckled.

“Yes. And other things.”

“You- you’re a pervert!”

You didn’t expect Aaron’s hand to make a sharp impact with your ass, the sound resonating around the room. You squeaked and naturally, your hips jolted forward and beneath you, you felt just how much he was enjoying himself.

With your panties still in his hand, he gripped your chin lightly and pulled your face close to his.

“Ah, but so are you. You’re the one who touched yourself in my bed while I was away with work, were you not? And that was before I found your panties.”

You opened your mouth a few times, trying to think of something to say, but he continued.

“So, that makes you a pervert too, no?”

You whimpered.

“I-I’m sorry, Mr Hotchner! I-“

Aaron chuckled and slapped your ass again, enjoying the little yelp that escaped you as a result and the way your hips bucked against his erection.

“You can prove how sorry you are in my bedroom. So, off you go. By the time I get there you’d better be presenting your current pair of panties to me.”

Okay that’s as far as I got with it LMAO uhm if you wanna see more tho lemme know and I’ll try finish it! Thanks for reading yawl!

[hushedlover]

an aaron hotchner x reader where she brings in their kid to the office!! i feel like this could be super cute!!

“Aw, look at her chubby little cheeks!”

Garcia squeals, making grabby hands at the little girl resting on your hip. You laugh and let the blonde woman take your toddler from your arms. The 2 year old claps in delight and immediately latches her hands onto the chunky necklace Garcia was wearing. She was like a crow, anything shiny immediately was in her hands.

“You did good, mama,” Derek smiles as he pulls you into a side hug. You grin up at him and hug him back.

“Thanks, Morgan. Any idea where Aaron is at?” You ask, smiling warmly as Spencer and JJ come over to coo at your little girl too.

“Last I saw, him and Rossi were talking in his office,” Derek chuckles as little Hotchner tugs on Reid’s hair. You smile as you watch her look over at the sound of the deep laugh, your baby immediately squealing at the sight of Uncle Derek.

Suddenly you’re being pulled into a warm chest from behind, strong arms wrapping around your waist to tug you backwards. You laugh softly as Aaron takes a deep breath with his nose pressed to your hair.

“My favorite girls,” He murmurs. “The best surprise.”

“Brought you lunch, too. Thought maybe we could do a picnic,” you hum back. It’s impossible not to lean back into his warmth and close your eyes, just resting like that for a moment.

“Maybe we could steal a few minutes for just us. I don’t think anyone is going to be letting our girl go for the next little bit,” Aaron says with a hint of a laugh in his voice. He watches as his team passes around your little girl, listening intently to the senseless babbles that make up the story she’s telling.

“Sounds perfect to me.”

Pulling out of Aaron’s arms, you grab his large hand and interlace your fingers. JJ catches your eye and send a wink along with a thumbs up, assuring you that she’d keep an eye on your baby girl. Tugging, you lead Aaron out of the bullpen with the team smirking and laughing at the two of you.

[basketonthedoorstepofthefbi]

masterlist!

SOOOO happy you're here!

hi! i'm jamie, i'm 25, she/her. i love seeing requests in my inbox so feel free to send one! currently accepting for spencer reid, aaron hotchner, and emily prentiss!! 😍

my “main” blog is @sorryimbeingapillaboutit, I didn’t understand that you can’t follow people from second blogs when I created this one, so if you see likes/follows/asks or anything from that page — That’s-a-me! I’m 99% of the time on this blog though!!

while most of my content is sfw, i will ask minors to stay away :)

my request guidelines

i'd love to hear from you! <3

—————————

Spencer Reid Fics:

wingwoman (angst/ fluff) spencer reid x Fem!BAUReader ~ 5000 words

big hands (angst/fluff) spencer reid x Fem!PlusSize!Reader ~ 1500 words

shaking (angst/fluff) spencer reid x Fem!Reader ~ 2500 words

safer to kiss - part 1 ~ 2800 words - part 2 ~ 3200 words - (angst/fluff) spencer reid x Fem!BAUReader

round table (fluff) spencer reid x gn!reader ~ 1500 words

comfortable (fluff/smut) MDNI! spencer reid x fem!plussize!reader ~ 3600 words

cold feet (literally) (fluff) spencer reid x fem!reader - 1000 words

in the eye of the beholder (fluff) spencer reid x gn!reader ~850 words

Aaron Hotchner Fics:

cream cheese (blurb/fluff) Hotch x gn!reader ~ 500 words

flu season (fluff) hotch x gn!reader ~ 1700 words

look at me (angst) hotch x gn!reader ~ 980 words

hungover (fluff) hotch x fem!reader ~ 1300 words

dance recital (fluff) hotch x mom!reader ~ 1400 words

patience (smutish) hotch x fem!reader ~ 1500 words

dressing up (fluff) hotch x fem!reader ~ 1600 words

dressing down (fluff) hotch x fem!reader ~ 1500 words

obstinate, headstrong girl part 1 ~ 4600 words - part 2 ~3000 words (enemies to lovers) hotch x fem!reader

concrete (flangst) hotch x fem!bau!reader ~ 1400 words

burden (flangst) hotch x fem!reader ~ 1200 words

james taylor (fluff) hotch x fem!reader - 650 words

Emily Prentiss Fics:

anything (flangst) emily prentiss x fem!reader ~ 1400 words

tea (fluff) emily prentiss x fem!reader ~ 1200 words

[show-your-fangs]

Ooh are you still taking requests for Hotch? If so, I would like a smut fic with a plus size reader please! I always see stuff about how most fat people are self confident now, but that isn’t the case for me, maybe some reassurance from Aaron ? If you’re uncomfortable writing this or don’t want to, don’t worry about it!! 🤍🤍

hi gorgeous angel 🤍🤍 i hope i was able to deliver. i sprinkled a lot of smut because you deserve to be rewarded.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x plus size f!Reader

Words: 1.7k

CW: 18+, nsfw, mdni.

Tags/warnings: established relationship, self-concious/insecure plus size!reader, soft Aaron, a lot of reassurance, pet names (beautiful, gorgeous girl, darling), praise, oral (f receiving), basically Aaron eats you out to show you he's obsessed with you and your body.

Disclaimer: YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO REPOST MY WRITING ANYWHERE ELSE WITHOUT MY CONSENT. REBLOGS ARE ENCOURAGED THOUGH. YOU MAY NOT FEED MY WORK TO ANY AI DATABASES OF ANY KIND OR TO USE MY WORKS TO TRAIN AI. FUCK AI.

“No!” you screeched and he immediately stilled over you. 

Your heart was racing, your ears were hot with shame, the confidence that had led you here, to his bedroom, to his bed where you currently laid, splayed on your back with his tight, broad frame pressed tightly over you, evaporating at the mere thought of light. 

He had just leaned over you to turn his bedside table lamp on, to fill the room with soft light. He wanted to see you, wanted to get to witness every twitch, every shiver, everything he was about to make you feel.

He assessed the situation for a second, took in your heaving breaths which had turned from excited to terrified ones. He could make out the outline of your hands now fiddling uncomfortably with your fingernails.

“What’s wrong, beautiful?” he asked, his hands slowly retreating from the lamp back to your body, to your hips where he gently began to draw circles.

“Can we…can we keep the light off?” you whispered, ashamed. “Please.”

You couldn’t see his face since the light from the hall was hitting his back in a low glow. But if you could’ve seen him, you would’ve caught the flash of sadness, of despair and hurt. 

He immediately understood why you were feeling this way, and yet he couldn’t help but get incredibly angry that you were. Not at you, however, never at you. It wasn’t your fault you were feeling this way, it was the fault of whoever had made you believe that you weren’t beautiful, that you weren’t desirable, that your body wasn’t perfect.

“Darling,” he started, his voice soft and gentle, kind and understanding. “You have the body of a goddess,” you winced then, and it unfortunately confirmed all of his suspicions. He truly was good at his job. It was eerie how he could read you so easily, so quickly, with nothing more than a single sound. “Please allow me to do right by Aphrodite and worship you like you deserve.”

Your mind was stunned into complete silence. The voice that had been screaming was now quiet. No one had ever spoken to you that way, with such sincerity and intensity that you couldn’t do anything but believe them, take them to heart, accept that he was telling you the truth.

He wanted you, desired you, found you irresistible, and who were you to deny him of what he wanted, who were you to deny your body what it craved. 

You slowly nodded, breath hitching as you felt him shift again, this time the action emphasized by the click of the lamp turning on. Warmth enveloped the room, but you didn’t register it fully. 

“Open your eyes, beautiful,” he purred. “Let me see you.”

You hadn’t realized you’d closed them until then. You took one more steadying breath, focusing all of your energy on his hands, on how warm they were against your hips, how they were gently and lovingly tracing circles over your love handles. 

You opened your eyes slowly, white specks of light fluttering as his beautiful face came into focus above you. He smiled brightly and you swore you melted right into the mattress. 

“There you are, gorgeous girl,” he praised. “You’re doing so good for me.”

You couldn’t help the blush that rose from your chest to your cheeks, a hot and adorable pink that matched the one on his. 

It was almost overwhelming to think that you had this effect on him, you made him blush, you made him smile so brightly you were afraid the sun would stop working, you made his heart beat so fast against his chest you were afraid it would break through. 

“I’m going to take off your pants, alright?” he asked gently, making sure to keep you comfortable as a priority, to take it at your pace, to go as slowly as you needed, even if all he wanted to do was jump you right then and there, bury himself so far inside of you that you forgot what you were even feeling self conscious about.

You nodded and his hands slowly slid down your body, delicate and soft, slowly and steady. He unbuttoned your pants, followed by the zipper, and then hooked his hands into the waistband. 

He looked back at you before he even began to pull them off and you nodded again, biting down on your lip out of habit. He slowly pulled your pants down your legs, the eye contact never faltering. 

You were feeling too much, the fire in your belly having spread to every part of your body. It was silly, silly to think that just by looking at you like you were the most beautiful person on the planet he could get you this hot and bothered. 

You’d always thought he was out of your league, nothing more than an unattainable dream, a crush that would lead nowhere. You knew his type, the athletic, runs marathons for fun, only eats lean protein with mountains of steamed vegetables with no seasoning type. And yet Aaron had managed to surprise you at every corner. 

He tossed your pants across the room, his hands now on your thighs. He ran them up and down like he’d done with your waist, diligently taking his time to feel, to commit every inch of your body to memory. 

He slowly opened your legs for him, to allow him to press himself flush against your core. You couldn’t help the moan that escaped you and he grinned brightly in response. 

“Can I eat you out, beautiful?” he murmured, the feeling of his hands, the feeling of his hot and hard erection pressed against your heat. You were practically panting, not really digesting his words fully. 

You nodded, the simple thought of the burning ache between your legs getting relieved enough to make you forget exactly what he had to get you there. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to your belly button, distracting, as his hands opened your legs further, parting them for him to settle into them comfortably. 

He continued to trail kisses down your stomach, taking extra care of making it a point to linger, to hum and groan and make sure he was constantly letting you know just how much he’d been craving you. 

He sank down to his knees then and the sight nearly took you out. Your head strained to stay upright, to try and see him, your eyes unable to look away from him. 

But then he pressed his face against your clothed pussy, his nose practically rubbing over your clit, and you couldn’t take it anymore. You fell back on the bed, hands wrapping themselves tightly around the duvet. 

“You’re soaking, gorgeous girl,” he groaned, his thumb teasingly running down your clothed slit. You whimpered, the anticipation already making you lose it, which was exactly what he wanted. 

He gingerly pulled your panties to the side, his eyes practically sparkling as he took in your glistening folds before him. He moaned then, not wasting another second before he dove in. 

His lips wrapped around your clit, gently sucking before his tongue began to lap circles over it. You moaned loudly at his actions, the beautiful sounds coming out of your mouth spurring him on. 

He ran his tongue down to your opening, teasing your hole before pressing it flatley against your slit and licking all the way back up to your clit. Your mind went blank at that, whatever thoughts remained, positive or negative, swiftly evaporating into the night. 

He repeated the action a few more times, getting into a nice, steady rhythm. Your moans had gotten more chaotic, wild, free. Your body started to tremble, to move in tandem with his tongue, to seek it out to search for your own pleasure. 

That’s when he pulled back, a needy whine escaping your lips at the loss of contact. He grinned, his tongue licking up the wetness around his lips before he swiftly sank two fingers inside of you.

And just like that your moans were back, filling his room with so much warmth it rivaled the heat from the lamp beside your head.

"So tight," he groaned as he began pumping his fingers in and out of you, making sure to curl them upwards inside of you to hit the spot he knew would make you come undone. 

He leaned back down to press a kiss to your clit, the puffy nub looking incredibly lonely, almost begging to be given attention. 

“You’re beautiful,” he stated. It was factual, matter-of-fact, veridical, never a question about it. 

You sighed deeply, his words still sounding foreign to you, as if you knew them to be true and yet could not yet believe them in their entirety. 

“Say it,” he ordered before his teeth bit down around your clit. 

You practically screamed, the shock forcing you onto your forearms to see him, to see what he was doing to you. 

“Say you’re beautiful,” he repeated the command as clearly as he could, tugging now, enough to make the pain just edge on the line to uncomfortable. 

“Fuck, Aaron,” you whined, hands desperately trying to push him away by his shoulders. But he stood his ground, challenging. “I’m–I’m beautiful, I’m beautiful, I’m– gonna cum please–”

His teeth let go of your clit, the final jolt of electricity perfectly in tandem with a twist of his fingers inside of you. You couldn’t stop yourself from exploding, the tightness finally snapping, flooding your own body with more warmth than you knew what to do with.

Aaron dove right back in, his fingers sliding out as his tongue replaced them, sinking into you to feel your walls constrict, to feel your essence wash over him like a tidal wave. He lapped all of your juices up, his tongue skillfully working you through your orgasm.

You couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t even register anything other than the beating of your heart in your ears and the deliciously painful sting of overstimulation that was starting to take over as Aaron swallowed all you gave him.

After your breathing had calmed, your heart returned to a normal pace, your eyes focused on the room around you once more, Aaron stood himself up from between your legs, his even more pronounced erection pressing into you once more, as if to show you just how much harder you’d made him. 

“Now, was that so hard?” he joked, a satisfied smile over his glossy lips.

"You have the body of a goddess. Please allow me to do right by Aphrodite and worship you like you deserve." will easily go down in history as once of the best lines of dialogue i will ever write.

now if y'all excuse me i need to go scream into my pillow.

tags: @xladyxdreamer, @canuck-eh, @ssamorganhotchner

[yourmomxx]

Hotch X plus size reader? I need some self-representation and don’t have enough energy to write myself yet.

a/n: anon, I got you! I threw in some insecurity/reassurance, because you said you wanted representation and if it’s not about that topic, I always try to angle my writing in a way that it fits for (women) of all body types and races..thank you for your request, I hope you like this!!

Aaron knew that something was wrong when you didn’t throw in commenting remarks while you were curled up by his side, you both slouching on the couch in the living room, watching The Nanny.

He didn’t say anything about it, he let you be, thought you might have just had an exhausting day at work and weren’t currently in the mood or condition to interact with anyone.

He knew those days.

Aaron knew, that if there was something obviously bothering you, you would tell him about it, you always did.

But when Cece and Niles started going at it on the TV screen, verbally slapping each other around without ever so much as raising a finger and even his mouth broke into a slight grin, and you still weren’t reacting to any of it, he wondered.

Without saying anything, Aaron reached for the remote and put the TV on mute. It was only when the continuous background noise suddenly stopped, that you looked up from where you had been intensely focused on fidgeting your fingers, and furrowed your eyebrows in question.

“Why did you turn off the sound?” You asked him, voice smaller than usual, although he was sure you thought you were great at concealing that something was bothering you.

Aaron signed and adjusted himself in-between the cushions. He made sure you stayed tucked into his side, though.

He nudged your head with his nose. “Tell me,” he murmured lowly, “what’s going on in that beautiful head of yours?”

You bit the inside of your cheek and did your best to avoid his eyes.

“I fucking hate profilers, you know that?” You grumbled. Aaron’s chest shivered as he let out a quiet laugh.

“So,” His free hand grabbed for your chin and tilted it to focus on him, his thumb slowly smoothing out your eyebrows. “Tell me. You know I will listen.”

You sighed. Honestly, there was no point in denying it anymore. You knew how your boyfriend valued the subject of communication in your relationship, and also now that he knew that something was plaguing your thoughts, there was really no way to escape.

You had really thought you’d done a good job at hiding it, that something obviously had you troubled.

But apparently not well enough for Aaron.

You always asked yourself if his job was the reason why he was able to see through your facade that easy, or if your facade was simply that easy to see through.

“Look, it’s just-“ You picked up the habit of fidgeting your fingers again, “-I know I shouldn’t even think like that, because it’s childish, and stupid, and pathetic, and -“

“Hey, hey, hey.” Aaron pulled you closer into him. “Don’t talk about yourself like that. You hear me? Whatever you feel, it cannot be either of those things, because it is your feeling, and as such, it is valid. Do you understand me?”

You couldn’t do more than nod. The question of how you deserved someone as kind as him made the knot in your throat only grow tighter.

Your hands were much easier to look at than his face. You felt like a sinner confessing.

“It’s just that-“ You started, embarrassment and self-consciousness weighing heavy on your chest, “I’ve been thinking, for a while now. And when we go out, with your friends, and I see someone like Emily Prentiss, who could probably run a ten mile sprint right now if I asked her to, or JJ, who had a child and still looks like she could get hired by every second modeling agency, I-“

You blinked away tears, but even though the hot fluids didn’t run down your cheeks, the way your voice trembled and broke was enough evidence that they were there.

“And when I’m alone with my mind at night, or literally any time, I start to think about it, and I think, I never could be them. And I ask myself, why would you be here, and why would you stay with me, with someone like me, if you had women like them as an option? And I know that’s not fair to you, but even everytime I watch TV, I am reminded that I am not one of those stereotypically pretty women, and it just messes with me so, so much.”

Now, the tears were flowing. Big, salty drops were trickling down your cheeks, taking chunks of mascara down with them.

You didn’t care in that moment.

Aaron just held you closer.

It felt good, to cry, for the first time in a long time. It was cliché, but it felt relieving.

Aaron waited. He was good at doing that, and you appreciated it.

It took a short while for your sniffles to die down, and for you to shakily accept the tissue that your boyfriend was handing you, but you managed.

Aaron brushed a stray tear off your cheek and pressed a barely there kiss on the top of your head.

“Are you ready to listen to me, sweetheart?” He asked.

You took a deep breath.

“Because if you want to continue making points on how Hollywood makes biased casting choices, then I’m fine with that, too.”

You couldn’t help the shaky chuckle escaping your throat at his words.

When you didn’t make a move to say anything, your boyfriend slowly pushed a strand of hair behind your ear and let his thumb trace soft patterns on where it rested on your shoulder.

"I want to reassure you that there is nothing, and I mean nothing, that you have to worry about. Not when it comes to your appearance, my co-workers, women I see on the street, or, most importantly, my feelings for you."

You opened your mouth, but Aaron forestalled you.

"I know that you didn't mean to tell me you doubted me, but I want to tell you anyways. Y/N, what I want is to grow old with you. To spend every last minute of my day coming home to you, having you in my arms. Looks wither, and therefore would never be the reason for me to fall in love with you or perceive you as beautiful merely on them."

“Yes, but the way someone looks is the first way one notices about them, if they want to or not!”

Aaron shook his head.

“No, the first thing I noticed about you was that you ran into me and spilled brewing hot coffee all over my suit,” Aaron corrected you. “And then continued to pay the bill for my coffee for a whole month after that, even though I told you it was fine.”

You dipped your head in thought. It’s true, you had done that. Every time you’d come into the small coffee shop, the barista had already known to bill your coffee, and Aaron’s on top of it.

Until someday, you both walked in at the same time, together.

“Do you hear me?” Aaron continued, “I don’t mean to invalidate the way you feel, but I want you to understand, that, from me, you have nothing to worry about. Because, after a long day, or days, of work with Prentiss, and with JJ, it is you I come home to, and happily so. It is you who I will get down on my knee for at a beautiful, private beach on a day when it’s neither to warm nor to cold, because I know it is exactly what you want. It’s you who I want to fall asleep next to, and wake up next to again, and who I would skip a day of work for just so I could stay longer in bed with you. And I know I said looks don't matter to me, because don't get me wrong, they don't, but you are singlehandedly the most beautiful woman I have ever come across the entire time I have spent in this world. Now maybe call me biased, because I love you so much, but I don't care. Do you understand me?”

You craned your neck the slightest bit to look him in the eye, and his hey held so much sincerity and passion - for you - that you couldn’t do anything else than believe in what he said.

You sniffled slightly and nodded as an answer to him.

“I’m afraid I need to hear you say it,” Aaron said.

Another shaky nod. “I understand.”

“Good.” Aaron leaned closer and pressed a kiss to your lips, and your muscles slumped together at the comfort and the exhaustion, and a sigh escapes from your mouth into his even as he broke away.

“Now please, come on.” Aaron stood up from the couch and rested his hand on your cheek, lips leaned in close to yours as he whispered, “Let me show you how beautiful I think you are.” Another soft kiss.

“Until you believe me.”

—

“Here’s the file about the Colorado murders you wanted me to get you.” Without knocking, David Rossi strutted into Aaron Hotchner’s office, because it’s simply what he always did.

Aaron barely raised his head to shoot him a brief thanks as he dropped a beige folder on his desk.

Rossi was almost out the door, when Hotch spoke up again and stopped him.

“Dave, do you happen to know how far our authority range reaches?”

David Rossi stopped in his tracks, one eyebrow raised suspiciously at his friend’s odd question.

“I don’t think we’ll get the President to destroy his big, red button,” He responded, “But the answer to that question really depends on what you’re asking for.”

Hotch dipped his head slowly. “Well, let’s say, maybe … Hollywood?”

[plussizefantasia]

Orange Slices

Flufftober Day 19: Sweaters

Aaron Hotchner x Plus Size! reader

Word Count: 1.0k

AN: I know that I always write with bigger bodies in mind, but this one does mention sharing clothes and some body image stuff. If that bothers you, please protect yourself and don't read. It's still really fluffy but I just want to give a heads up.

Anyway, I love a cute little hotchner family moment and this was really fun to write. I'll see y'all tomorrow <3

divider credit @royallaesthetics

Aaron always took care of the people he loved, it was something he was incredibly good at and something you loved to witness. He took care of you, his team, Jack, and Jessica, and he had tried his best to take care of Haley until the two of them split.

One way he cared for Jack was by coaching his soccer team. He spent extra time with his son, running drills in your backyard. And Saturday mornings were pledged to soccer games. 

The best way that you could put the weather this Saturday morning was brisk. When you had gotten to the fields Jack had run away immediately after getting out of the car to go join the rest of his team. Aaron had helped you unload the cooler with halftime snacks and drinks, your folding chair, and the bag that Aaron brought when he coached full of cones and two or three extra pairs of socks and shin-pads for kids who might’ve forgotten them.

“It’s a little chilly this morning dontcha think Aaron?” You had asked, walking side by side with him, both of your arms full.

“Too cold? I can run back to the house real quick and grab you a jacket.”

“No, no. I’ll be fine it’s not that bad.”

“You sure hon?” You smiled at his concern.

“Yes, Aaron I’m sure I’ll be okay.”

You were not okay. Well at first you were, the first quarter went by kind of fast and Jack had scored a goal right off the bat so you were pretty pumped. But as time went on and things became a little less exciting you started noticing the crisp air biting at your skin more and more. It wasn’t enough for you to complain, but you did start rubbing your hands up and down your arms while you sat to try and generate some friction heat.

Aaron noticed because of course he did, it’s his job to notice and while he might not get paid to notice things about you, you’re one of the most important things in his life and he likes to keep tabs on you.

So when he sees your leg start bouncing and you beginning to blow into your hands to try and warm them up he makes his way over to you. He lets the other coach know that he’ll be right back and shouts some parting encouragement at the kids while he walks away.

“Cold?” He asks, but it’s not a question. He knows you’re cold. He knows everything about you, like how the pout you’re giving him means that you’re going to say no but you don’t mean it, you just don’t like being wrong.

“I’m fine Aaron, don’t you have a team to coach?” He notes the attempt at deflection but also notes the little puff of air that he sees coming out of your mouth when your hot breath meets the cool air.

“Take my jacket.” He starts unzipping the three-quarter zip that he bought just so that you can share. Aaron’s jackets usually don’t have a problem fitting you in the shoulder area or length but you had hated the way his coat had clung to your stomach the first time he offered it to you.

And he noticed because he always does. So the next day he went to the store and bought himself this sweater, it was a little too big for him. Not baggy enough to be noticeable, but he did have to push the sleeves up when he wore it because the cuffs on the end didn’t hold onto his wrists.

But the extra room in the sweater meant that it was perfect for you, you could share it and in moments like these, that was kind of a lifesaver.

Aaron shucked his sweater off leaving him in just a plain grey long-sleeve shirt and his black sweatpants.

“No Aaron you're gonna get cold.”

“But you already are.” Was his reply. Not even moments later did a small body crash into yours.

“Did you see that goal I scored!?” Jack’s exclamation and excitement put an end to whatever potential back and forth was about to commence and you slowly pulled the sweater over your head while Jack gave you a play-by-play of the game you had just been watching. 

“You’re doing good Kiddo, you’ve got one more half think you can do it?” You asked offering him a small red Gatorade from your cooler and an orange.

‘Course’ I can, m’ not even tired.” 

“Okay Jack, go kick butt.” He gave you one more hug and took a final swig of his drink before tossing the still-half-full bottle at you and running back out to the field. 

Aaron turned to you, “Keep the sweater hon, I’ll be fine. Promise.” He placed a chaste kiss on your forehead and went to go give the team the halftime pep talk that got them hyped for the last thirty-ish minutes of the game.

You had to admit though, that watching the second half of the game was a lot more enjoyable than previously, where you were more focused on not losing any fingers than what was going on. 

Jack played a great second half, scoring two more goals and winning it for his team. And Aaron looked great standing on the sideline, anytime you got to watch your kid have fun and check out your husband at the same time was a win in your book.

When the game ended and Jack helped you and Aaron pack up everything you’d brought, minus a few oranges, you’d all clambered into the minivan and Aaron pulled out of the parking lot. But he had gone the opposite way to your house.

“Where are we going, Dad?” Jack had asked from the back seat.

“To go get another sweater, just to keep in the car.” You had hit his arm at that and started sulking in the passenger seat. Aaron had just cracked a grin and chuckled a little at your reaction and Jack had just called out, “Can we get a hot chocolate too? I’m a little chilly.” 

At that, both you and Aaron burst out laughing.

[thetransartguy]

i want to dance with Aaron hotchner in the pouring rain at 2 am, i want to kiss him gently then when i go to pull away i loss my balance and fall down bringing him with me to the ground, i want to look at him after and laugh about it. then i wanna lay there with our hands intertwined with one another as we turn out faces towards the sky and let the rain fall down on us

[cupidkenji]

Virginia vampire - 1/2

Pairing: Aaron Hotch x vampire!fem!reader Cw: SLOWBURN BRO, descriptions of hunting/blood consumption, angst, fluff, non-descriptive mentions of an abusive dad, cursing, typical criminal minds violence, possible ED trigger (more in disclaimer), idk bro you tell me Summary: You escaped your scientist father when you were 17. When requested by Quantico PD to deal with a stemming serial killer, you realize you recognize the wounds. You used to be the one inflicting them. Disclaimer 1: Reader is chubby! She's not physically described here at all but a fat woman is always the MC. Disclaimer 2: Reader lives strictly on blood. This story discusses themes of intense bloodlust/hunger, UNINTENTIONAL avoidance of blood (food), and physical consequences due to not eating (more so in the next chapter). This is NOT pro-ana or anything like that, and while these themes are explicitly negative, they are still there and may affect those struggling. Please look after yourself, this is all fantasy and is not meant to trigger you. That's all <3 WC: 9.6k - read part 2 here Like I said, please head the disclaimer as I would hate for anyone to feel negatively about this. I personally have struggled with a restrictive ED and would not write/publish anything I felt would trigger/contribute to pro-ED rhetoric. I'm actually rlly proud of this one I think it's cool and neat and I'm excited to share. I also looped eat your young by Hozier while writing this so would recommend as ambiance. Enjoy <33

The Quantico streets seemed to get darker the more you came out. It was late - technically early, as midnight had passed two hours ago - but still a time of pungent heathenism. Nobody out at this hour had good intentions. You knew yours were certainly questionable, discreetly following a man decked in club attire as he stumbled his way down the street. This was the worst part - having to stalk behind them, giving you nothing but time to humanize them in your head. He was probably going home, back to safety. The process of hiding a body is one you could recite with your eyes closed. It’s bitter and metallic, but familiar, and you seemed to project that harbored guilt onto him. It wasn’t as though he’d never see that safety again, you didn’t kill people anymore. Your unusual diet required this type of robbery, but you’d busted your ass for almost three years to figure out the perfect amount. The amount that keeps you just on the cusp of living, closer to death than most but still able to function effectively. The number of times you felt a heart cease it’s beating against your lips because you went too far would strike envy in the evilest of individuals. The amount you took was pure necessity - a full syringe, never a drop more. It would last you about half the week when rationed out. It was livable, doable, only ever being a problem if you couldn’t get more the exact night you needed to. 

You hated preying on drunks, the alcohol in their blood making it taste rancid, but this was the easiest target you could ask for. Beggars can’t be choosers. He took a moment to catch his breath after he nearly toppled over, and you saw your opportunity on a silver platter. Contrary to the movies, stealth was not an inherent trait you get when you live on blood, you’d gained yours from experience. You never liked being so good at this, but as you rendered the man unconscious and silenced his fall to the ground, you relished in the fact that you were. The days of amateur hunting were long over, and the cries of people as the blood rushed from their necks are ones that echo - ones that sit with you. 

You dragged the man to the innards of the closest alley, propping him against the wall and rolling up his jacket sleeve. You took off the bag hanging from your shoulders, removing a syringe and a flashlight. Since you hunted at night, it was impossible to find a vein without lighting. It was something you realized quick when you made the switch from neck to wrist. You turned the thing on, clamping it between your teeth and angling it down at his arm. Growing up with the world’s cruelest biologist as a father, you were well versed in the world of human anatomy per his insistence. You watched the vial fill with liquid, cursing your entire situation for being so despicable. The only way to properly describe your father was Frankenstein, eagerly allowing his only child to grow into the role of his monster. He’d handcrafted your DNA in a petri dish, ensuring that malice was weaved throughout your most instinctual needs. He was a well off man, respectively referred to as the brightest mind in our current age. He’d gained fame after presenting his magnum opus - the invention of literal vampirism. Somehow, something only he knew how to do, he’d made a string of DNA that derived the body’s energy from the nutrients in blood. He started with insects, impregnating beetles with the specific code, making embryos that fed purely on blood of the same species, which manifested into a hostile blood lust once the thing was born. He’d reached rodents and promised he would be ending his tests there, not wanting to breach the topic of morality and push forward with mammals. Unfortunately, your father was as honest as he was kind, so here you were. 

You finished the extraction and pulled the needle from the man’s flesh, apologizing profusely under your breath. You patched him up, a bandaid over the small hole, and hid him amongst some garbage bags. Nobody out at this hour had good intentions, and you weren’t about to offer them a possible victim for whatever desire they may be looking to express. You hated that you had to hurt him at all, no matter how minimally. The least you could do was shield him from the people who truly intended harm. You tossed the now full syringe back into your bag, the flashlight following a second later, and exited the alley. The only thing that kept your feet moving was the few days of peace you would get now that you had food. Your head pounded with the feeling of blood just sitting in your bag, the body full of blood laying defenseless just a few feet away. It was a battle you fought everyday, seeing those closest to you as two separate entities - one was a person you loved, one just a plethora of functioning veins and arteries. Their lifeforce was the closest thing to ambrosia you could imagine. It’d taken you years to get control, though, and you refused to undo that for a couple minutes of gratification. You couldn’t. Losing control would grant your father the victory he ached for, and you would die before letting that happen. You rushed to walk away, choosing to propel yourself with the image of his disappointed face rather than the breathing blood bag leaning on a dumpster. He’d killed your mother before you even got to know her, you refused to be the reason someone didn’t get to know their parent.

–

The BAU was an unwelcome sight when the time was five in the morning instead of your usual seven. You’d been ushered to the building by a sleep deprived JJ, spouting off different remarks of remorse for the early hour but needing the team there immediately. The whole table seemed to share in the disdain, as half of them could barely hold their eyes open and the other half were practically chugging shitty break-room coffee. Aaron was, surprisingly, the last to walk in. Greeting everyone with attempted normalcy while visibly fighting off his own exhaustion. His hair was messy, his torso lacking the coverage of his uniform baggy blazer. The sight of him slightly unkempt from the spontaneity of the gathering caused the air to flee from your lungs. You’d had a bit of a staring problem since you started working here, but his appearance now displayed a casualness that was making you dizzy. The deviation from his standard presentation felt strangely intimate, a more personal version of him. You looked away quickly, you had to. He took his spot next to you, having reserved that place for himself when you were first hired. He greeted you personally once he sat down, something for just the two of you. You had looked at him, about to reciprocate when JJ officially started the meeting. 

“Good morning, everyone. I’m sorry for the early start but we’ve been urgently requested by our local PD. They think we’ve got the start of a serial killer, three bodies were found last night with the same MO.”

“Three bodies?” Morgan’s words were laced with bewilderment. “As in three people were actually killed or three bodies were dumped?” The table knew what he was getting at. Three murders in a single night was quite the task. Especially considering the police had to find the bodies, meaning no pedestrian had seen anything worth reporting.

“They’ve left the crime scenes untouched for us, but they’re betting all of them happened in the same time span.”

As if he could read your mind, Hotch asked the main question that’d been circling your mind. “How are they being killed?”

“That’s why we’ve been asked for.” JJ started distributing files containing the crime scene details. “All the victims so far have the same stab wound in their carotid. Nothing had been stolen, and they were all found in alleyways. For the amount of blood that comes with puncturing an artery, there wasn’t a drop found at the scene.” 

“No signs of torture?” Morgan was looking at the photos as he asked, double checking the information he was reading in the file.

“All of them were basically untouched from the neck down. There weren’t even indications of defense.” JJ shook her head as she spoke. “This guy definitely gets the jump on them.”

“A blitz attacker.” Prentiss concluded, closing her file as she reached the end of it. “Any witnesses?”

“None.” The worst answer JJ could have. “Police found them while on patrol.” 

“Alright.” Hotch stood from his seat. “Prentiss, Morgan, I want you at the first scene.” The agents nodded at the orders, exiting the room to complete the task. He looked towards Spencer, drawing his attention away from the file as he addressed him. “When Rossi gets here I want you guys at the second body.”  The man just uttered a “got it” and looked back down, waiting on Rossi’s presence to start moving. Aaron’s eyes made their way to you. “I want you with me. We’re gonna go meet the officers at the latest discovery.” You couldn’t meet his eyes, feigning preoccupation with closing your folder and simply muttering a noise of agreement before standing. 

“I told the press to keep it quiet. Last thing we need is word of a mini spree leaking to the public.” JJ informed the remaining people of this on her way out, peeking her head back through the door to say it before returning to her office. You watched Rossi finally show up and retrieve Reid from the conference room as you were leaving, heading to the car with Aaron close behind. 

Once you were buckled into the passenger seat, you started talking. “Three bodies in under twelve hours. Haven’t heard those numbers since the Barly Butcher in ‘64.” 

“Let’s hope it doesn’t reach that.” His eyes, although you couldn’t see them, went slightly vacant at the thought. He couldn’t imagine dealing with that level of killer in the modern age - he certainly didn’t want to. “One was too many. God knows we don’t need a Quantico butcher.”

You couldn’t imagine either. “No kidding.” The drive wasn’t shaping up to be a long one, seven minutes went by and you were already approaching the flashing lights of cop cruisers. You got out of the car, the sheriff swiftly coming over to talk. She had thanked you for taking the case, grateful that her precinct wouldn’t be dealing with this one alone. There were CSI already there, but you slid gloves on your hand and headed towards the body regardless. They were respectful, allowing you control of the scene, walking away as you got closer to give you space. 

You turned the woman’s neck slightly to get a better view of the injury, the image shaking the ground beneath your feet and causing the water in your tear ducts to form a haze over your eyes. There were teeth marks around the incision. Such a minor indent that it was no surprise it went over looked. You could see it because you’d once been the cause of such a thing. The closer you examined, the more parallels you drew to your beginner days. The skin around the wound was curling upwards, a sign of applied suction. No wonder they couldn’t find any blood, it’d been sucked out. You nearly fell off your feet from where you were crouching. The unsub clearly knew enough about the human body to inflict such a precise cut, pair that with the obvious motivation to feed and you got the bone-chilling realization currently seeping through you. He’d made another one. You had a sibling, and he was hungry.

–

When the regroup was called back at headquarters, you lead an uninformed and slightly confused Aaron to meet the rest of the team. He’d noticed your determination at the scene, questioning your findings and being eager to get back when you made him wait to hear about it. You wasted no time as you entered the room, pulling up the image on the big screen to properly show them your theory. 

“The unsub is drinking their blood.” Looks of defeat and absurdity were present in all of their eyes, but you continued explaining, zooming in so close that the image went slightly blurry. “If you look close enough there are teeth prints around the wound, not bite marks, but the type of print you get from resting your teeth around the wound and applying pressure. The edges of the wound are curling in and up, so it can be assumed some type of suction followed the stabbing.” Most of the team was squinting at the screen, absorbing the details you pointed out and already trying to form a timeline, a motive - something. “That’s why they couldn’t find any blood. It was consumed.”

“So we’re dealing with a vampire?” Morgan sighed, his eyes detailing a reluctant belief. He couldn’t argue with your theory yet, it was the only logical thing they had. “Maybe we should visit your dad, Y/n.” 

You scoffed at the quip, images of the man throughout your early life flashing through your head. “Funny.” You furrowed your brows at him. “You’d have to find him first.” You had slipped from his grasp when you were seventeen. The home you spent your childhood in was vacant a few years later, effectively severing all your remaining knowledge of his life. You’d never had any way to contact him, only the relics of his stories that refused to leave you. The only thing he ever spoke about was himself, and most of his tales were burned into your memory like a branding. If you were honest, you’re surprised he’d never physically branded you, he’d surely thought about it. The dread started to build in your gut. You handled most cases with a healthy distance, some could regard it as a coldness but you preferred the simplicity of your process. This, however, was impossible to deal with impersonally. This threw you headfirst into a situation you had never bothered to prep for. Not only would you be seeing how your team feels about what was essentially an early version of you, but you didn’t want to prosecute this unsub. His path was one you walked for years before acquiring the life you have now. You hadn’t been a villain, there was a high chance he wasn’t either. The bloodlust was controllable, he just needed someone to teach him. Pursuing him with the vigor of a typical unsub would wreck you. You felt protective, almost maternal. Your father had made another monster, but that didn’t have to mean they live a life of his design. You could get him out.

“Can I speak with you?” You hadn’t even noticed the analytical gaze Aaron held, too focused on your own internal spiraling. “Outside?” He motioned his head towards the hallway, instructing you to follow him.

You always felt like a kid in the principal’s office when he called you away from the team. “What’s up?” You hadn’t even waited for him to fully shut the door before you prompted the conversation. You were fully prepared to raise hell and high water to find your unsub, and you needed all the time you could get.

“Is something going on?” He always took extra time to check on your wellbeing. You figured at first it was pity, some type of undermining or an indication he thought you were less equipped for the job than others. He’d never hinted at any of those, always showing genuine concern for you, and eventually you stopped thinking he had ulterior motives. “You’ve been skittish and antsy since you saw the body. You’re speaking faster and can’t look me in the eyes. You’re nervous. Why?”

“Hotch.” You sighed his name, and he tilted his head, leaning in slightly as though pulled in by the sound. “I am nervous. There were three people murdered last night. If this guy is drinking the blood of his victims seconds after he kills, there’s no predicting how long the cool-down will be. He could strike again tonight or he could be gone for weeks. I don’t want more people losing their lives because we waited around too long. I need to figure this out.”

He could tell you were withholding something, you saw it in the way he looked at you. Thankfully, though, he allowed you to keep your secret. Breathing out a sigh of his own and just nodding. “You know where to find me if you want to talk.” 

You held back the look of pure adoration you wanted to send his way, settling for the appropriate neutrality. “I know.”

You both rejoined the team shortly after, ignoring the curious looks of your coworkers and instead inserting yourself into the conversation. Reid went over the typical blood fetishists, along with the multiple philias and phobias associated with blood consumption. All of them falling flat in one way or another. You suggested swabbing the victim’s neck for traces of saliva, Prentiss calling to request the task be performed the second you’d said it. With hours going by and the promise of lab results by tomorrow, you all said your goodbyes. You said a silent prayer under your breath for a body-less night and drove home with a plan. If he was like you, he’d be out again tonight, and you had every intention of finding him.

–

This was the first time in your life you’d ever felt thankful for your knowledge of nightlife. Patrol was amping up, tonight it was one too many cop cars on the street. Tomorrow it could be officers searching the area on foot. With no way to predict the criminal, there was also no way to predict the response, and that was scary as hell. Any attempts they were making to stop him from feeding would affect you just as bad. There hadn’t been a single event since you started hunting more ethically that you’d had to break routine. You wanted to help him, but you also needed to stop him from fucking up your regimen. You were wandering, aimless and anxious. You tried connecting to whatever energetic wavelength you might have with him considering your partial relation, getting nothing but a firm reminder of why that stuff wasn’t considered fact. You ducked away from the second police cruiser of the night, just barely evading the lights before their illumination painted your face red and blue. The alley was a welcoming partner, allowing her shadows to drape over you and create a solitude unique to that darkness. You’d heard the noises a second later - panting, consistent and ragged, followed by a period of silence before resuming. You clicked on your flashlight, shining it maybe ten feet ahead of you and feeling like someone threw sand in your eyes. He was here, dressed in jeans and a black zip-up, hood over the back of his head. You wouldn’t have been able to see him even if his hood was down - he was crouched over a woman, shoulders hunched and mouth greedily stealing what little life she had left to give. He was so small, you physically felt your lips curl in sorrow when you realized he couldn’t be more than fifteen. The woman’s fingers were still flexed, and you assumed she’d died less than a minute ago by her arm placement. They were crooked at the elbow but weirdly resting on the assailant, as though she’d been gripping his shoulders before her strength blew out with the wind. 

You waited, just a moment, stilling to see what move - if any - he would make. He was completely entrenched in his task, but you were surprised your light hadn’t set him off yet. It was only when the river ran dry that he seemed to notice your voyeurism. His head snapped in your direction so fast that you jumped on your feet a little. You thought back to how volatile you’d been in his shoes, deciding the best way to approach him would be that of a rabid animal. You inched closer, seeing him mirror you with a slight back-step. 

“Hey.” You talked quietly, breathily, trying to subdue any dominant undertones you could be carrying. “I need you to listen to me, ok?” You crouched, hoping to put the two of you on the same level. “I know you’re not trying to hurt anyone. You’re hungry, yeah? You’re hungry and I know it fucking hurts. Worse than you ever imagined it could.” You thought back to the days of captivity. Your father made you the absolute pinnacle of gluttony, feeding you even when you finally didn’t want it, engorging you with the only thing you could sustain yourself with. Going from a state of constant overflow to barely a drip-feed was agony, causing fits of hunger so extreme that it was a miracle he hadn’t hit double digits by now. “I can help you, alright? I’ve been there. It doesn’t have to be this way - I promise it’s manageable.” You really should have planned some sort of script for this, you were winging it and from the accusatory look he was wearing, you didn’t think it was working. 

You asked if he knew your father, hoping to establish some reputability in his mind and prove you knew what you were talking about. The name, though, seemed to hit him like a bullet. He took off running and blew past you so fast it knocked you over. You jumped up as quick as you’d been put down and set off after him. The kid was fast, and you knew it wouldn’t be long before you lost him. He had the advantage of being half your height in a city full of narrow shortcuts. You pleaded with him in between breaths to just listen to you, promised you didn’t want to hurt him, all of it was futile. He ducked into a subway and slipped from your grasp before you even knew you had him. Your eyes teared up from frustration, so close to being the saving grace you were desperate to be but just managing to graze it before it leaped away from you. You felt the toll of such a run immediately sodden your legs and weaken your lungs. You didn’t have nearly enough fuel in the tank to give chase, but what were you supposed to do? You’d seen him, almost had him before the acidity of your fathers name melted all the progress you were making. Fitting, you thought. You slipped your phone out of your pocket, you were still an agent who had just found a body. Another victim in a string of serial killings; if you didn’t report it and were traced at all back to the scene you could be fired - or arrested. Hotch’s contact burned a hole straight through your pupils. How the fuck were you gonna explain this? You just happened to be on a classic midnight walk alone as a woman in the city currently housing a vampiric serial killer. You could almost hear the crease of his eyebrows as you told him where you were, requesting the team be awoken and the local PD be sent to you. You’re sure he could hear the ball in your throat as your vision got watery again. He promised he’d be there soon, telling you to hang tight. He was comforting, but there was a determination in his voice that told you he wasn’t letting it go this time. You didn’t know how to prepare for whatever that meant, but you knew some worms would be leaving the can. 

Ten minutes later and you heard the familiar shout of your last name. “What the hell happened?” Morgan seemed worried you’d been attacked, scanning over you to check for any signs of injury. He wouldn’t find anything but your rapidly rising chest.

You watched the EMTs wheel away the woman in a body bag, locking your gaze on Derek when you started to feel nauseous. “I’m fine.” You crossed your arms, rationalizing that maybe a physical security would grant you the strength needed to conceal this mess. “I live right up the road. I go out walking sometimes when I can’t sleep. I just saw the body in the alley, guy was gone by the time I found her.” 

He seemed relieved at your avoidance but also completely floored by the stupidity of walking so late. “Stop walking alone at night.” He was clearly protective. “That's why some of these cases are even possible.” He looked at you, taking your story as truth without a second thought and letting a sense of mourning flood his irises. “I don’t know how I’d cope with having to put you in one of those bags.” How charming. “You get me?”

You looked at him, putting on a face of regretful understanding and simply uttered back a quiet “I got you.” to hopefully dodge all the attention he was giving you. 

He chuckled, looking behind you and gaining a sort of cringe in his smile. “Good luck with that.” He nodded towards whatever was approaching and joined the congregation of other agents and officers, essentially isolating you with the thing you’d been dreading most. Aaron Hotch.

“Aaron-” You turned around to face him but stopped talking when you saw the look he cast at you. Something so curious and pleading for the knowledge you withheld, he seemed to manually dim it with the aspect of his authority. He was your supervisor, but he cared for you as something deeper than that.

“We’re heading back to the BAU. I want you in my office when we get there. We need to talk about this.” He waited a second, letting the unusual professionalism sink into you before seeking confirmation. “Am I clear?” He was gentle in delivery, but the fear you’d betrayed him weighed heavy on you.

“Yes, sir.” You nodded, looking at him. He wasn’t mad, and you didn’t regret the decisions that got you here. Your mind was simply racing with any plausible lie you could tell him to escape this situation unscathed. He knew you better than you were even aware of, you didn’t know if you could get away with lying at all, let alone lying in excess. You just prayed he was feeling particularly forgiving, along with hoping he was especially tired due to the hour. If you lucked out, you might only have to relinquish your integrity instead of the truth.

–

The sound of his door closing felt like the final sign of your demise. He hadn’t slammed it, he’d shut it gently and moved to sit opposite you in his office chair. You couldn’t remember a time he’d been genuinely angry with you. Right now he simply reeked of desperation, of empathy, and it was that notion that kept your eyes from meeting his.

“What’s going on, Y/n?” He was so soft, the tone of his voice combing through your ears like hypnotism. You were so fucking guilty.

You stared at his name card and wondered immaturely how it would feel to share a surname with the man. “I told you what happened.”

He leaned forward, propping his elbows on the desk. “You told them what happened.” You begged him internally to just leave it alone. “Now I’m asking you to talk to me. You can’t even look at me. You seem to think that because you can conceal the standard signs of lying that nobody can tell. You slip past their radar because they don’t know your tells, Y/n.” Your heart sped up, he’d probably known you were keeping something from him before you’d even made the choice to. “The top of your middle finger covers your index when you’re lying or when you’re not telling me something, you know that? Every single time. You haven’t held a conversation in the past week without doing it.” He clasped his hands on the table, readjusting to really focus on you. “What aren’t you telling me?”

Something about him always had a way of wearing you down. You’d been smothering the feelings you held for him for years, so when he showed such devotion to you, he could wring you out like a sponge with just a sentence. You visibly deflated, shoulder slumping forward. “I saw him.”

He straightened, assessing how to tackle a statement like that. “You saw the unsub?” You just nodded. “Do you know how important that information is?” He seemed bewildered, even a little angry at the fact you didn’t tell them. “You know better than most how significant every sighting is. Why would you ever keep something like that from us?” He was speaking slightly faster, confused frustration filling his words as he continued. “It’s a miracle you weren’t hurt, Y/n. This was extremely reckless, I don’t understand how you could-”

“Hotch.” You’d never had to speak over him before. “He’s my family.” The words were coated in bile as they left you - this was a steep slope. You hadn’t anticipated sharing even that piece of information, your family history was far too close to your less than common genetic misfortune to ever be talked about. 

“...What?”

Your eyes teared up. You were going to tell him, and you were also going to cry. “I have to tell you something.” You felt the quiver of your lips, heard the shake of your voice as it circled the air. What the fuck were you thinking? 

“My father - um…lied to the public about his testing. He promised everyone that he would stop at mice, but he didn't plan on actually doing that.” You shook your head in tune with your words, speaking slowly as you thought of how to drop this bomb and cause the least amount of damage. “He kidnapped a woman, my mother. At that point he’d figured out a way to implement the DNA strand he was using on rodents into human sperm, and he managed to get her pregnant with it.”

His face went slack, an emotion reaching far beyond shock, beyond disbelief. “You mean…?”

“It’s not vampirism in the cinematic sense, Aaron. We don’t burn in the sun or have heightened senses or speed. It’s just a cruel mutation. Human blood is the only substance our body can process.”

“You - you keep saying ‘we’.” He was frantic, you didn’t blame him. “Are there more?”

“Just the unsub.” The look in your eyes was begging for acceptance, for empathy and tenderness. You hadn’t even expected him to believe you, but now you feared the possibility of him running for the hills and spilling your secret to anyone he came across. “He’s the only one I know of. I didn’t expect my father to do it again.”

“Jesus Christ.” You concealed a laugh at how expressive the confession was making him. You knew it was the worst possible time, but you’d never seen him so human. “Is this - I mean how do you live, Y/n? Are you killing people?” You understood the accusation, but that didn’t dilute the sting of it as it hit your ears.

“No, Aaron. God, no.” You rushed out a denial before he could think too hard on it. “It took me years to figure out the bare minimum I could live on, ok? It’s two full syringes a week, nobody ever dies. Ever.” He seemed out of it, you didn’t know how to gauge whether this was a good or bad reaction. You’d never told anybody. How did you even proceed in a situation like this? “Look, I know, ok? This is fucking crazy, but you can’t tell the team.” He widened his eyes at you slightly like the thought of not telling them was wilder than anything you just told him. 

“You can’t seriously expect-”

“Aaron.” You were on the brink of losing your breath. “I’m not a threat. I’ve worked here for years. I’ve lived with this my entire life and I have control. We need to focus on finding the boy and that won’t happen if they know.”

“Boy?” He furrowed his eyebrows deeper than you’ve ever seen. “He’s- It’s a kid?”

You thought back to the encounter. You could cup him in your palms. “He has to be. He’s tiny, fourteen or fifteen I’d say.” You nearly broke as you thought of the child he’d never get to be. 

“There’s no protocol for this, Y/n.” This was one of the first times you’d seen him speak with his hands. “I don’t even know how to approach it anymore. It’s hard enough dealing with a child unsub when they’re human. How do you suggest we deal with a vampire?”

“Hotch.” Your eyes held disappointment. He was coping with the situation, and you knew that, but his words still didn’t sit right with you. “He is human. A very scared and lost human boy. My dad overfed me as a kid, wanting to disable the signal that tells you when it’s enough. It’s why he’s killing so many, he must have recently broken out. You get…I don’t know, insatiable. You start and don’t know when to stop, it's just blind instinct. He doesn’t want to be hurting people.”

“You speak from experience.” You didn’t want to tell him he was missing the point, but there certainly wasn’t a mutual focus between the two of you.

“Nobody’s perfect, Aaron.” You spoke with tears lining your eyes, your past was the most shameful thing you carried with you. “I need to find him. I can help him.”

He sighed, baffled and exhausted at the entire situation. He nodded soon after. “I won’t tell them.” You felt the increase in oxygen as you practically gasped in relief.

You stood up, stopping with your hand on the doorknob. Were you running? Yes, most definitely. But he wasn’t speaking and you couldn’t imagine he wanted to stay in your company. “I promise I’m not a monster.” You didn’t quite know if you were trying to convince him of this, or if you were hoping to affirm what he was already thinking, but it was the only thing you could think to say. 

He just stared at you, eyes vacant but clearly attempting to imitate the warmth that would normally reside there. “Goodnight, Y/n.” It was such a familiar phrase that it nearly made you puke from the comfort flooding your body. You scoffed at the casual nature of the remark in the face of such an unusual time, but were still unfathomably thankful for it. 

“Goodnight, Aaron.”

–

Three days later, and you were really feeling the distance. He stopped the routine of checking in - he stopped speaking almost entirely. He spoke of you, giving you orders or assigning your assistance to others but never talking directly to you. He used to pull you aside sometimes just to ask about your day, now he wouldn’t even look at you. The bodies had only been piling, patrol increasing night by night all hell bent on catching the so-called ‘virginia vampire.’ The absolute last thing you needed was a media wave of infamy to drown the boy, but there was no stopping the press once they were off and running. You doubted it made a difference, internet access was fully forbidden within the iron fist that was life with your father. You were hopeful some type of DNA could be pulled from the bodies, as the clean up was nonexistent and some of the necks had still been wet upon police arrival, but you got nothing. Or rather, nothing within the system. Garcia had compared the results of the sample to every database in the country - sometimes branching beyond that - but nothing proved useful. It was foolish to be disappointed, obviously your father wouldn’t have registered the baby of his hostage with the required legal standards. You hadn’t even known what you wanted to find, but the presence of absolutely nothing was crushing.

With the new surveillance demands your local PD wanted to meet, the BAU ended up pitching in to night monitor with them. It wasn’t difficult by any means - just tedious. You sat in turned off cop cars for most hours of the night while trying to ignore the persistent burn of hunger that was lighting up your stomach. You knew it’d been too long since you went out, but you were out of luck. People weren’t on the street hardly at all, and even if there was a small population to prey on, the cops breathing down your neck made it nearly impossible. You’d been paired up with Morgan for the last two nights you’d done this, time moving faster with him there to entertain you. Needless to say, sitting in the dead silence of the Quantico pm with Hotch was not what you were anticipating when you came for your shift tonight. You were only two feet away from him, but you could almost gaze into the sinkhole that sat between you two. Cold and dark, brutally reminding you that you’d volunteered for this abyss when you spilled your guts. You stopped yourself from shifting in your seat as another contraction of hunger pulled at your abdominal muscles. You knew that if someone were looking, they’d be able to notice the decline in your recent performance. You were slower, more zoned out, antsy, irritable. You were good at suppressing those things, confident in your ability to conceal them, but you had a feeling the man beside you could tell. He’d been looking at you all night, analytical and lukewarm, letting the start of a conversation sit just on the tip of his tongue. The silence, though, was taking it’s toll on you. It seemed to morph into a ringing that bounced between your ears like it was determined to slip into your skull and bury itself there. You realized you would take the most awkward conversation over a night of partnered solitude. 

You wrestled with what to say, deciding to stick with your streak of brutal honesty. “Will you ever wanna talk to me again?”

He sniffed, continuing to stare forward like he was expecting the question. “I don’t know what you want from me, Y/n.” You didn’t know either. 

You took a moment to mentally gawk at his words, tripping over them in your attempt to process the answer and decide how to respond appropriately. “Anger?” You felt yourself ramp up slightly, your hands moving as you spoke. “Resentment? Sadness? I mean… you’ve just been cold and I can’t work with that, Aaron.” You looked at him, mouth slightly open as you laid your helplessness out for him to see. “I need something.”

“I just-” He shrugged, shaking his head while figuring out the words he needed to say. “You can’t expect me to adjust to that information in three days. I don’t know how I’m supposed to act around you.” It was deeper than that. You both held a sort of mutual understanding that these lumps weren’t as surface level as confusion. The woman he’d been infatuated with for years had confessed she lived on the blood of her fellow man, how the hell do you act after learning that?

You tried your hardest to be empathetic towards his situation. You’d lived with this arrangement your entire life, so it was hard to put yourself in the shoes of shattered expectation, but you tried. It hurt to hear him refer to you like you were a different entity all of a sudden - but to him, you were. “So ask me. Ask me any question you can think of. If you want to know something, I’ll tell you. I just can’t stand the silence, Aaron.” You put your hand to your forehead as you relaxed into your seat. “I miss you. I’m the same person I was a week ago.” 

You heard him sigh and shift to be leaning forward slightly. “Do you have a…” He trailed off for a second, searching for the way to put it that would ensure you understood his question. “You know, a bloodlust? Do you feel what the kid is feeling?”

The air solidified in your lungs. Yes, you absolutely fucking did. However, you weren’t going to sit there and profess your never ending homicidal urges to a man who was already struggling to accept your bare minimum. You weren’t going to scare the man you cared for more than you already had. “Um…you could call it that, I guess. I do know what he’s feeling right now, but I don’t live in his mindset anymore. It gets less the more you live with it.” You weren’t lying, per say. It truly did get easier to manage, you were simply omitting the follow up of still being a bottomless pit for the substance. Just because you weren’t enslaved to it anymore didn’t mean the constant possibility wasn’t a part of your very being. 

He looked over at you, and in the dim glow of the street light his eyes seemed fuller, pupils rivaling puddles of tar. “What does it feel like?”

Your lips parted to let out your breath as it elevated slightly. The car seemed to humidify in the moments between his last question and now. Was he actually asking that? “It feels like…this-” Jesus Chist how did you even put words to it? “this constant…pulsing…in your gums.” You thought back to the haze it used to cast over your mind. You could barely think clearly when you first got out, focused on stealing the life force from beneath the skin of others. “Your whole body just fucking aches for it.” The eye contact between you and him was searing past your eyes and sinking into your soul itself. It was different than any way you’d looked at him before, so full of remorse and pure want that you’re surprised he didn’t laugh at your patheticism.

You caught quick movement draped in a shadow from your peripheral and were knocked back into your actual purpose. You and him both exited the car, creeping up to the spot previously occupied by the figure. You didn’t see him, simply felt the force of him pelt past you and crash into your shoulder. You, to your surprise, held your footing and were running after him a second later. Hotch was just behind you, both of you sprinting desperately to catch the boy. But, just like the last time you’d walked this path, the nimbleness of his smaller frame won almost effortlessly against the two of you, and you lost him. This time, you’d lost yourself right after. You felt the nonexistent padding of concrete on the sidewalk bruise your body before you even registered you’d fallen over. The world wasn’t fading, you were very awake and very aware of the pain spreading to your entire right side. You determined - rather quickly - that your legs had just given out from lack of proper energy. The embarrassment of doing this in front of Hotch severely trumped the pain of hitting the ground. 

“Jesus.” You heard the concerned mumble come from him as he crouched down to your level. “Are you ok?”

You said you were fine, but oxygen seemed to adopt the weight of a semi-truck and it got harder to accept the necessity into your body. You simply told him to stand up, following his lead and rising from your position with difficulty you hadn’t faced before. Your legs failed you for the second time, though, and you fell back onto your knees with a small sob of exertion being expelled from your chest. He crouched back down, stabilizing himself on his knees and letting you lean against him when you couldn’t hold yourself up.

“Y/n.” The shame of your current situation kept your eyes from his, only looking at him when he forced you to. “When was the last time you ate?”

You just shook your head, weakly trying to free yourself from his hands but failing. “Patrol’s been so high I just couldn’t - “ You sniffed slightly, gasping lightly as breathing became harder to do than the chase you just gave. “I couldn’t get out.” 

He muttered ‘ok’ under his breath a few times, seemingly coming to terms with something, looking around in all directions before rolling up his shirt sleeve. The implication of the action registered instantly and you began squirming away from him. Mumbling words of disagreement that you knew he could hear.

“I can’t, Aaron. I can’t drink straight from the source - I can’t stop.” You felt your lips tremble as you recalled the feeling of impending doom clashing messily against the rush of excitement that coursed through you at the possibility. You hadn’t known that specific cocktail in years, you thought you’d go the rest of your life without feeling it again. “I can’t - please.”

“Well -” He started, pulling up his pant leg in search of the small switchblade he started carrying after being disarmed one too many times. “If we don’t do this, you’ll lose consciousness. That means they’ll take you to the hospital on an IV and you’ll have to explain why none of the nutrients are helping you.” You were so fucked. He was right, a rock and a hard place didn’t even break the surface of your situation. This was hell.

Your vision went blurry as the water in them doubled in quantity. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Then don’t.” Bastard. 

“Aaron-”

“You’re practically catatonic, Y/n.” He let energy surge through the response, saying it more as an exclamation than a statement. “I’m not watching you die and I’m not letting you out yourself to some random workers because you’re scared. You need blood.” He positioned the knife away from any major arteries and dug deep, exhaling slightly at the sting. Softening his voice, he looked to you again, and moved his wounded wrist slightly closer to you.“Just let me help you.” You watched it run off his wrist and swore you felt the impact of the drops as they fell like a phantom pressure lighting up your skin. He was breathing heavy, you didn’t know if you were breathing at all; only being able to gauge the depth of your existence by how badly you needed what he was offering. You hadn’t felt yourself accept the invitation, only tasted the poison of it all once it bypassed your lips. You wondered if this was how Eve had felt when she succumbed to the serpent. If so, you didn’t blame her. You would have condemned all of humanity for this feeling too. It hadn’t ever felt this personal, this euphoric. You fed on strangers, never on someone who held as much importance as him. This trampled the idea of simply knowing him, this was a bond you could never backstep. It was done, and it was terrifying. The warmth he always seemed to emanate infested in you from the inside-out, beaming through your entire body and fending off any destruction being done by the famished vines winding around you. He held you against him as it happened, safe and welcoming, and it made a heat line your stomach with such intensity that it teased the idea of burning right through you.

He wallowed in the feeling for a few minutes, only stopping the exchange when he felt his head become too heavy for his neck to hold. “Enough, enough.” His way of tapping out, the words making you detach immediately with a slight gasp that prompted your panting breath. You realized he was panting too, eyes slightly wide and skull resting uncomfortably against the brick wall that sat behind him as he recovered. You assumed your face was painted with the horror that was flooding your system, but he couldn’t see the extent of the expression in the darkness surrounding you. “Does it always-” He was cut off by the approaching vehicles of your team and other officers. It was time for a shift change, and you felt a small sob intertwine with your exhaling breath and extend to the air around you. With your newly acquired strength, you got up and limped to the closest cop car. You forced away the urge to cry as you asked the officer to take you home, claiming an urgent need to check on your pets. Just add lying to an officer to your list of sins committed in the last 24 hours. You watched your team congregate around the still bleeding Hotch and bit your tongue. His actions had been so instinctual, so automatic in the way he rose to the occasion. He’d given you something nobody ever had, and you weren’t sure you would ever be looking at him again. 

–

In the week that had dragged by since then, bodies were being found significantly less than they were. You’d successfully halted all interaction between your boss and you - which is much easier said than done - and had essentially treated him as though he didn’t exist. It hurt him - visibly - and you despised being the one to instill such a wounded haze to his eyes, but you couldn’t help it. No amount of oral hygiene procedures could singe the taste of him off your tongue. If you let the thoughts linger in your mind too long, you could almost feel the flow of his blood cascading down your throat. It threw you so effortlessly back to your freshly escaped fledgling days that it fucking horrified you how badly you wanted it. You really should have assumed that consuming the blood of someone you treasured would dramatically increase the craving. You weren’t prepared, not even slightly, and that would certainly manifest into some less than work appropriate advances should you acknowledge your boss again. 

The lack of frequent bodies unfortunately didn’t reduce the amount of cops on the street, but you’d managed to slip back into your routine. It was about ten times harder than it used to be to both evade officers and find people outside but you were fed, and that was all you chose to focus on. You had left tonight’s guy under a park platform a couple blocks over, having to resort to unconventional means when hiding them post-theft. You hadn’t stopped your search for the boy, having been out every night since it started. Sometimes on the clock, sometimes off - always trying to think outside of the box. Clearly, that all proved futile, as there was a boy sitting on your front steps practically consumed by the surrounding shadows when you arrived home. You simply continued your trek, stopping maybe five feet away and giving him the space to control the situation. He looked up at you, pulling down his hood and standing to his full height. He was practically gleaming in the dim porch light, his skin seemed to reflect the moon in a way only rivaled by the finest china. 

“What did you mean?” He was as timid as a mouse, looking at the ground as he spoke. “You saw me that night in the alley and you said you knew what was happening. What did you mean?”

You couldn’t say you were surprised your father didn’t inform him of your existence. Knowing the man, he would most likely deny your relation if questioned directly. “I’m like you, buddy.” You slowly let the bag on your back swing forward to a place of accessibility, grabbing the vial of the inky substance and flashing it slightly before returning it to your bag. “I’d offer you some, but I can’t imagine you’re needing it.” You swung it back to rest behind you again, settling the straps comfortably on your shoulders.

He furrowed his eyebrows, confused but apprehensive, as though the motion might upset you. “You live on that?”

You chuckled at his innocence, barely being able to comprehend the pure dichotomy you were talking to. You understood it fully, but such a sweet boy holding such intense homicidal capabilities was an absurd notion. “Took me a while.” You nodded as you confirmed his question. “But yeah, about two of these a week.”

Disbelief quickly befriended the features on his face. “You aren’t…hungry?”

You looked at the boy with undiluted sympathy, you knew the feeling he hinted at well. If you were him right now, you’d have probably lashed out in a jealous rage at such an ability to control consumption. You hadn’t believed it was a livable amount until you’d contained yourself within it’s limits. “A little, I won’t lie to you. But it’s well worth it to avoid killing someone. You get used to it after a while.” He simply looked down, and you realized you might have made him slightly guilty with your wording. In an eager attempt to pivot the conversation, you told him your name, hoping to get a proper introduction from him.  

“I’m Daniel.” You crouched down after he said that, wanting to open him up a little more by shrinking below his height. “You know my dad?”

You smiled at the ignorance, it wasn’t often somebody didn’t know exactly who resided on your family tree. “I do. He’s actually my dad too.” You preyed with everything in you that you were coming off as comforting, docile. You wanted him to trust you. “How old are you, Daniel?”

“Twelve.” Jesus Christ. 

You tried not to let the shock ricochet along your face. You wouldn’t earn his alliance by being wobbly, you needed to be a dependent structure for him to lean on. “You’ve got me beat, kid.” He tilted his head, the meaning of your statement lost on him. “I was seventeen when I got away. Quite an impressive thing for someone your age.” Praise, you hoped, would solidify you as a place he could receive affection. He definitely wasn’t getting it from your father. 

His eyes went wide, lips parted as you saw his head lean forward in response. “You escaped?” His breathing sped up, microscopic, something you wouldn’t have noticed had you worked in a different profession. “How?”

You felt the bottom of your stomach rip and release every ounce of hope you ever carried. Something wasn’t right. “How?” You questioned him rhetorically, mentally pleading that he wasn’t about to confirm your suspicion. “Are you still with him?”

He nodded his head with such casualty it broke your heart. You knew it was all he’d ever known, but seeing him have such peace with his predicament was a sight made of pure devastation. “Yeah.” He sighed out the response. “He says there’s no use in running away. That if I decide to just stay out one night, he knows how to find me.” You notice his averted eyes, a sudden embarrassment becoming evident in his stance. “I’ve…kinda been too scared to see if that’s true or not.”

“Why don’t you come in?” It took all the effort you had to suppress the desperation begging to penetrate the look you were giving him. “I can protect you, Daniel. He’s not as tough as he pretends to be.” In all honesty, you didn’t know if that was true. He’d never sent you out on hunts when you were younger. He gave you any indulgence you wanted, absolutely trampling your hunger cues and making you a nightmare on anyone with a pulse once you finally broke out. You figured it was a fail safe for if you were ever on your own. He couldn’t have you, but you would start piling bodies and would eventually be put down when they traced it back to you. You didn’t understand his game plan here. Why did he suddenly want a high body count? Had he been starving Daniel out just to set him loose like some feral bull? 

He frantically shook his head, stepping away from you slightly and waving you off. “No, I need to go back.” He started tearing up, remembering the true reason he’d stepped foot on your lawn at all. “I need you to help me, Y/n.” He swiped at his nose as he bit back the tears. “You have to get rid of him.”

You felt your own eyes go watery at the ask. “I’m gonna get you out of there.”

He chuckled, light and short, puzzling you for a moment at what he could be finding humor in. “It’s not even about me.” He looked down. “I just wanna stop hurting people.” 

You covered the tremble in your lips in a pathetic attempt to mask the sadness that poured from you at his declaration. “I’m so sorry.”

He returned his head to the safety of his hood, refusing your apology with a shake of it. “It was nice meeting you.”

You stared at him, every instinct you had sparking with the urge to shield him. Absorb him into the atoms that made you up and let live through your screen of security. But you couldn’t, so you just sniffed, reigning in any emotion that slipped from your grasp during the conversation and sealing it back inside. “I’ll see you soon.” And then he was walking away, turning slightly to offer a wave before resuming his role as part of the abyss around you. Only one thought remained in your head - You were gonna kill your dad.

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

hii :) your recent post made me really happy, times are so rough but we all gotta stick together :) could i maybe request some fluff with aaron hotchner x chubby fem reader? i just wanna be cuddled and coddled by someone who's usually so tough and stoic. thank you :) and i hope you're doing well <3

.⋆｡Rest Your Eyes｡⋆.

Aaron Hotchner x plus size reader

A late night at the BAU with just you and your boss

Warnings: bau!reader, fluff, very new relationship, tired babies WC: 762

A/N: I’m so glad you reached out lovey!

Minors DNI

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

“I thought I told you to go home three hours ago?” You continued to stir the sugar into your fresh mug of coffee, cringing at the sound of metal meeting ceramic. It wasn’t anger radiating from the man standing in the doorway, but it was close to it. 

“I had some more case files to finish up.” He sighed, his broad shoulders dropping. You spun slowly on your heels, sheepishly avoiding his gaze. Hotch looked exhausted; his red tie loosened, a strand of dark hair out of place, his eyelids half closed. 

He pushed a hand through his hair, the strand returned to rest on his forehead. “You mean doing Reid’s case files as well as your own.” Your eyes lowered to the now unappealing cup of coffee in your hand. A shameful sort of feeling bubbled up in your stomach as the older man appraised you. 

The click of his shoes on the old tile flooring filled the small kitchen as he cautiously approached. The mug was gently lifted from your hands and placed on the edge of the sink behind you. The smell of his cologne filled your senses like it always did. A tentative hand brushed against your hip. 

“Hotch-“ His smile was small and almost melancholy. 

“Not when we’re like this.” He stepped closer, a foot slipping between your own, pressing your soft body against the counter. You breathed in a shuddery breath and finally met his dark eyes.

“Aaron.” The name felt so foreign on your tongue, like something forbidden but you craved it all the same. It was so new, the touch, the closeness, the warmth that raced through you just from a look. How easy it would be for him to consume you whole, swallow down your sweetness and devotion and keep it all to himself.

But it was all too soon for that.

“You need rest.” He murmured, slowly ducking his head down, giving you time to move away. But when you didn’t, when you instead placed your hands on the lapels of his suit jacket, Aaron pressed forward, the tip of his nose rubbing against yours. His breath caressed your lips. He had only kissed you once before, it had been desperate and loving and left you weak in the knees and you wanted so badly for him to do it over and over again.

“So do you.” You countered. He hummed grumpily and pulled away but his hands remained on your wide hips. 

“You know I can’t.” It was your turn to hum in discontent, your gaze hardening with faux anger. 

“Then I’m not going home. Not without you.” The implication was there but both of you were too exhausted to even think of anything beyond a mattress and a warm body beside you. Aaron’s hazy gaze travelled over the length of your body before he slipped your hand into his larger one.

You plyfully allowed him to guide you from the kitchen, weaving his way between the abandoned desks and up to his office. His grip is soft but constant, reassuring to your exhausted mind. A lone lamp resting on the corner of his desk bathes the room in a fuzzy orange glow. No more words or argument or appeasement are needed as he leads you to the large couch, where already a pillow and blanket had been laid out.

You wanted to joke that he had planned this, a way to get you into his bed without the hassle of a commute the next morning, but it dies in your throat as he sheds his jacket, giving you a glimpse of his powerful body still partially hidden behind his button-up. The leather of the coach creaks when you settle into it, then again when Aaron takes his place beside you. 

The couch is wide enough for you both to lay on your sides, chest to chest, albeit pressed tightly together, your limbs intertwined, heads on the same pillow. Fit perfectly together. “Just a couple hours.” He murmured like he was trying to convince himself of his own words. Your fingers curled into the blanket and pulled it up over your shoulders.

“Just rest your eyes.” You reassured, your own already closed as you nuzzled closer. He sighed contentedly once more, knowing that he would not live up to that promise, not when you were so soft and warm in his arms in the way he had always dreamed you would’ve felt.

Your cheek squished beneath his lips as he kissed you goodnight and held you as close as he could.

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Aaron Hotchner

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[hotchs-big-hands]

Okay hear me out, him getting a quarterzip that is bigger than his usual size cuz he knows you’ve been wanting to wear smth of his but his usual size is tight on you, or maybe doesn’t even fit. It’s a huge bummer for you and he hates to see your face fall over it, all while trying to brush it off.

So now he’s got an oversized quarterzip that he wears a fair bit when he’s around the house with you or on trips out so it can smell like him. And when he’s away he slips it into your drawer “accidentally” or leaves it on your side of the bed in hopes that you’ll put it on.

Coming home to see you wearing that quarterzip and underwear does something to his brain (and his crotch) and he approaches you in two large strides to envelope you in a tight embrace. You can feel his desire against your body and you can’t resist teasing him, asking if seeing you in his quarterzip turns him on, only to be surprised when he not only confirms it, he drags you off to the bedroom. You’re giggling at first when he pins you down on the bed, but quickly you’ll be gasping his name when he’s got his hands sliding under the fabric and his mouth on your neck. And when you attempt to help in pulling the quarterzip off, he stops you with a gruff,

“Keep it on. Look s’fucking good on you, baby.”

Now, whenever you wear it around him you know what’s gonna take place, much to your mutual delight.

[hotchs-big-hands]

God I think I've rbed this fic before ages ago but OUGH it's so fucking good I'm obsessed with it!!! Op you write so beautifully 💖💖💖💖💖💖💖

𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐀𝐒 𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐘.

pairing: aaron hotchner x plus!sized fem!reader | masterlist

Summary: Your first time with Aaron Hotchner. | based on this request.

— warnings: fluff, nicknames (honey + sweetheart), words of affirmation, multiple declarations of love. nsfw content; first time(s) stomach bulge. aaron has a huge cock. p in v (soft sex, making love) oral, fingering, needy aaron, virgin!reader, mild age gap, nipple play.

Trapped between the plush mattress and Aaron's hard chest, you let out a quiet hum as you feel the pad of his thumb softly glide over your knuckles. There's something so blissfully domestic about being intertwined with your boyfriend in the late evening; him still in his work clothes, and you dressed in your satin pink nightgown.

His large, muscular frame presses into yours as he embraces you, and his tongue flicks out to wet his lips as he drinks in your appearance. You had been laying in his bed when he returned home from work, having just put Jack to sleep, and you were waiting up for him. Aaron had bid goodnight to his sleeping son, a content smile on his lips as he traipsed towards his bedroom, and he swears that his heart had stopped beating in his chest when he saw you.

The pink, satin chemise that you're wearing has forced his eyes you since the moment that he stepped into the bedroom. It's a perfect fit, tracing the curves of your body, slightly outlining the small pudge of your tummy as you sit. He didn't even have time to change — he simply toed his shoes off before he collapsed atop on you, his nose nuzzling into the crook of your neck as he breathed your scent in, desperately trying to calm the throbbing ache in his trousers.

You're not quite ready for what he wants to do to you, yet and he knows that — but you're just so delicious, gazing up at him with hazy eyes, feigning innocence as your nails run over the lightly buzzed sides of his hair.

"You know, I've been thinking about you all day," Aaron murmurs sweetly, a small smile on his lips as you squirm beneath him. His eyes flick down to your thighs, mesmerised by the way your chemise rides upwards, exposing your plump flesh. "Couldn't get you out of my head."

Your heart feels tight in your chest as his hands slide down your body, his knee delicately parting your thighs as kisses you. There's an affectionate expression fleeting across his features, and you smile up at him shyly. "I thought about you a lot, too," you say quietly, biting back a smile as he presses a soft, drawn-out kiss to your lips.

He pulls away, smiling down at you, and your skin blazes with warmth. He's so handsome, so big — you can see the way his biceps strain against his shirt as he leans over you, and you try to hide the way your breath hitches as his knee rubs against the black lace panties you're wearing beneath your gown.

"I love you," Aaron says, between the gentle chaste pecks he delivers you. His hands gently squeeze at your waist through your nightgown, his voice rumbly as he adds, "so much."

Warmth blooms beneath his touch, and you desperately hope that he doesn't think too much into the way you squirm beneath him as he kisses you. "I love you," you repeat back to him, your voice as sweet as honey. Your nails gently scratch at his scalp again, and you watch as his eyes flutter shut as you touch him. His hands stay fixed on your waist. "Was work okay?"

Aaron hums softly, and his stubble skims against your cheek as his lips trail peppery kisses from your cheek, down towards your jaw. "Work was work," he responds, no hostility in his voice; just slight hesitation, "but I don't want to focus on work right now, honey. Not when I've got such a sweet thing like you beneath me."

Honey. The sound of his husky voice makes you tingle, and your breath hitches in your throat as he delivers hot, wet kisses to your neck, suckling at your pulse point softly. The sensation makes your cheek flush with warmth, and Aaron smiles into your neck as he feels your pelvis softly grind into his knee.

"Oh," you whisper, your cheeks glowing with warmth as he nips at your neck. A knot forms in your stomach as his tongue flicks over the skin he had just bruised, in an attempt to soothe your neck. "So, you want to just focus on me instead, Aaron?"

"Yes, honey," he responds, but he doesn't let up, his teeth softly nipping at your neck, his hands trailing down towards your thighs. An ache grows in his trousers as he feels your plush thighs beneath your gown, an insatiable desire beginning to bubble in his gut as he continues to kiss down your neck. "I just want to focus on you, if that's okay."

For the first time in minutes, Aaron pulls away from you. You can see the genuine concern circling in his dark brown eyes, a sharp contrast to the usual black sheen, as they study your face. Your eyes flick down to his lips, your heart pumping fast as he squeezes your thigh gently.

"Yes, please," you say, your voice eager, "that's okay, Aaron."

Your voice is soft and delicate, and it's all the affirmation that Aaron needed. He lets out a quiet groan of approval, before dipping his head again, his focus zeroing in on the purple mark which has begun to form on your neck. "My sweet girl," he murmurs as his tongue laps over the bruised area, "You're just as sweet as honey."

The phrase causes butterflies to bloom in your stomach, and you let out a quiet moan of agreement as his hands begin to ride up your gown.

Sweet as honey. It was what Aaron had described you as on your first ever date, and when you had flustered and squirmed as a result, he made it a habit to use the phrase whenever possible.

You don't stop his wandering hands, instead, you invite him to touch you more. As his lips trail along your chest, just short of where your gown rests above your plush breasts, you open your legs shyly. Your motions are timid, and you allow for his hands to roam closer and closer to the area where you need him the most.

His fingers twitch against your inner thighs, but they don't move. Aaron's focused on making you feel good, and he doesn't want to pressure you into anything. He knows that you're still a virgin, and he understands that whilst you trust him, you may not be ready to commit fully yet.

"Aaron," you whisper, your hands falling to clutch at his biceps, "More, please."

"More, please?" He repeats, gazing down at you through half-lidded eyes. He pulls away from you somewhat, though you're still pinned beneath him, and he observes your face. "What do you mean, honey? Use your words."

His hands gently press against your thigh, and a breathy moan catches in your throat as he carefully rocks his knee against your clothed cunt.

"This," you say, "but more."

An amused expression flitters across Aaron's features, and you have to close your eyes as you feel him press his knee into you with more pressure. You feel slightly flustered, pinned beneath him, ashamed that your body reacts so needily to his every touch.

He hums. "You can't be coherent, honey? That's okay. I think I know what you want." He cocks his head, a small grin on his lips as he shuffles downwards slightly, pushing your gown up softly.

His knee abandons your cunt, and you pout, opening your eyes and looking down at him. Aaron has nestled between your thighs, and as you lock eyes with him — his hazel irises are sheathed by his pupils, which are dilated massively as a result of his lust — you can't help but shudder.

"You always know what I want,” you say quietly as he looks at you for permission, and your body trembles as his fingers delicately push your wet panties to the side, "please make me feel good, Aaron."

Your voice wobbles slightly, and your tone is syrupy; sickly sweet, causing the ache which pulsates in his trousers to worsen. He coos. "How can I say no when you ask me like that?"

As if to praise you for your obedient tone, Aaron tilts his head down. His eyes flutter shut as he dips his head between your thighs, and his tongue softly glides over your sticky slits. "Sweet as honey," he growls instinctively, the sound rumbling in his chest as he pushes his mouth against you. His nose presses into your pelvis as he slides his tongue around your pulsing pearl, "my favourite dessert."

The feeling of his tongue rolling skilfully against your heat has you panting, your back arching into his touch. Being treasured by Aaron is your favourite past-time, and whilst your relationship has never gone any further than the innoceuous pleasure of worshipping one another with your hot mouths, you desperately crave more.

Perhaps, you're now ready for him. You can feel the strain of his trousers as his crotch presses into your ankle. Aaron eagerly laps at your cunt, and your walls flutter as his lips suckle at your clit. He relishes in each desperate breath you take and the sounds of your lewd, quiet moans spilling out into the open air.

"Aaron," you mewl, your toes curling as a familiar warmth begins to bubble in your stomach, pleasure spilling over you in waves, "I'm gonna—"

"It's okay, honey," he praises, his voice sickly-sweet as he grinds against you softly, his mouth hot against your heat, "you can let go for me. I'm right here."

"I need — ah," you gasp quietly, your thighs beginning to tremble as he continues to worship you, "more, Aaron. I need more, please!"

As though to make a point, you grind against his palm, and he hums in acknowledgement, the sensation sending a vibration pulsing over your clit. Skilfully, Aaron parts your slits further with his fingers, and he softly pushes two of his digits inside of your cunt, your walls sheathing him instantly.

You're tight around him, and he's careful as he softly curls his fingers inside of you, his tongue simultaneously working on you. Desire rolls through him as your thighs tighten against his head, your plush flesh warm against his ears as you shake and tremble.

You writhe above him, and Aaron can't help but groan as he feels you convulse. You taste so delicious, so sweet as your cream floods his tongue, his senses heightened by your overwhelming orgasm that crashes over you.

The knot inside of you frays and snaps, and you eagerly tug at his hair, your back arching. Your breasts spill from your chemise as you do so, and you whimper softly as Aaron keeps lapping at you, his tastebuds dancing with the sweetness of your cum.

“So sweet,” he praises again, pulling away from your cunt once your thighs dull their trembling.

You can tell that he’s going to pull away from you — and whilst you love that he respects your initial hesitance to anything more intimate than the general exploration of one another’s bodies, you can’t help but want more.

"No," you murmur quietly, trying to steady your breathing and calm your racing heart. You reach out towards him, your eyes pleading and your chest tight with nerves. "I'm ready, Aaron. I need more. I need all of you."

"All of me?" He repeats, and his deep brown eyes stare into yours, "Do you mean—"

"—I'm ready, Aaron. I want you. I'm ready."

Truth be told, you're not sure if you'll ever be ready. Aaron's so big, and you struggle to take him in your mouth. The thought of his cock burrowing inside of your cunt strikes fear inside of you, but you simply can't wait anymore.

He's been patient, and he's been kind, and it's been six months — you're unsure of any other man who would wait that long, and the fact that Aaron has been so forbearing makes your heart feel full.

"You're ready?" He breathes, adjusting himself so his trousers are pressing against your soaked panties, and he swears that his body sparks with electricity as you nod vigorously. "You're sure?"

"Yes," you affirm, "I'm sure. I want you so badly, it hurts.”

A few seconds pass, and you're worried that you've said the wrong thing, so you part your lips to speak. Your words are silenced by his mouth pressing against yours, his lips entrapping your own in a feverish kiss.

Wisps of his hair tickle your face as he kisses you. His warm hands gradually begin to pull your chemise up, and as the cool air nips at each inch of exposed skin, goosebumps rise. You fluster as Aaron pulls away from you, his eyes darting over your frame, which grows more exposed with each upward pull from his hands. He tugs, further and further, until he pulls the gown over your head.

"Oh, sweetheart," he murmurs, and his hands instantly dart down to grope and grab at your body, "you have no idea what you do to me."

You gasp quietly as his hands slide over your waist, trailing over the pudge of your stomach. He lets out a quiet groan as he gives your plump flesh a small squeeze, dipping his head to kiss you again, his tongue running over your swollen bottom lip. His hands are gentle against you, but his movements blaze a fire beneath your skin, and you find yourself growing hot and needy.

"Stop teasing," you breathe against his lips, "I need you now."

Aaron smiles against your mouth, before he pulls his lips away, trailing wet kisses across your jaw. "I need to make sure that you're wet enough to take me, honey," he utters quietly, "I don't want to hurt you."

"I'm wet," you say in response, shivering as his hands part your thighs slightly, "I'm so wet. Fuck, Aaron, please."

He laughs as your hands pull at his tie, smiles when your fingers begin to shakily unbutton his shirt.

"Somebody's eager," he comments, and he sits so that it's easier for you to undress him, and his hands abandon your body in favour for unbuttoning his trousers.

You're frantic, but he's smooth; calm and collected. Aaron lets his eyes explore you, and he can't help but palm himself through his trousers as he drinks in your flushed body.

Every curve, every soft indentation of flesh makes him feel feral. Your body, so generous and cushy, drives him wild, and he chokes back a groan as he slides his eyes over your soft stomach and your wide hips. The sight of you makes him ache, and he couldn't be more thankful that you're too inebriated by your own lust to notice the extent of his.

There's a fire in his gut, and his hands shake somewhat as he finally rids himself off his trousers. Aaron's face blazes as he notices the patch on his underwear, evidence of his own lewd desire, but you're too busy pushing his shirt off of him to notice.

You're trapped beneath him, pinned, and as his clothes become abandoned on the floor, he dips his head down, and he burrows his head in your chest. His tongue glides over your right breast, his hand palming the left, and you gasp as you feel his teeth nip at your sensitive bud.

"Do you know what you do to me, honey?" Aaron asks as he worships your body, delivering kisses over your pillowy chest, burrowing his head between your cleavage. He pinches your nipple softly, relishing in the way you writhe from his touch.

"I have an idea," you squeak out weakly, your thighs trembling as his hands slide down to pull at the waistband of your panties.

He shakes his head, looking down at you through thick lashes as he abandons your underwear to the floor. "No, you don't," he responds, and his head is instantly burrowed between your chest again, his hands trailing the curve of your waist and hips before he slides his palm between your legs, "you have no idea what you do to me."

A satisfied sigh glides past your lips as you feel his fingers glide through your sticky slits, and you eye him cautiously, your eyes zeroed in on the tight crotch of his boxers.

He's so hard, and you wonder if he's in any pain, because you are. You're pulsing between your legs, desperate to take him in, but he's being so sensual and considerate that it somehow makes you hurt more.

"You're so beautiful," he comments, and he adjusts so that he can slip his own underwear down. His voice is husky, and his hot breath fans against your ear as he murmurs, "I could look at you forever, honey."

"You mean it?"

"I mean it." Aaron's voice is serious, weighty, and he smiles down at you softly. His eyes are focused on your glistening face, wet from tears of pleasure and sticky from the summer heat. "You're just perfect."

You flush under his gaze, and you whimper as he kisses you again. Aaron's lips are soft this time, gentle as he moulds his mouth against yours. You let out a quiet gasp as you feel his hands part your thighs further, the sensation of his cock flexing against your folds making you shudder.

He's so big, but you're so wet, and you hope that it's enough to stop the sting. You wish that you had more experience, you wish that you could take cock perfectly, but you can't, and you and Aaron both know that.

You cried the first time he fingered you, so this is going to hurt.

"I'll take it slow," Aaron's voice pulls you from your thoughts, "and if it hurts — tell me, honey, and I'll stop, okay?"

You flick your eyes up to meet his. You instantly drown in his hazel irises, which are so round and soft and considerate. You nod your head. Your throat feels a little bit dry, and you feel somewhat hazy, but his words are so gentle and reassuring that you beckon him in.

"Okay," you respond, your voice wavering.

Aaron presses a soft kiss to your neck, his hand giving your hip a gentle squeeze. "I love you," he murmurs quietly, gently sliding his cock through your sticky folds, trying to keep his breathing even as he sees your eyes flitter shut.

"I love you," you mumble back to him, trying to stay lax as his hand slides over your stomach.

"Are you ready?" He asks, his tongue wetting his lips as he squeezes your flesh softly. He can feel precum dribbling out of his slit, and he's desperate to burrow deep inside of you, to feel you swallowing his cock.

His lips tickle your neck again, and you whine softly. "I'm ready. Please make love to me, Aaron," you say shakily, your arms wrapping around his neck for support, your fingers riding through his hair, "I want you."

Your confirmation was all he needed.

He keeps his hand against your stomach, his eyes focused on yours as he gently slides his cock inside of you.

You're so tight. Your walls are pillowy and soft, insatiably warm and wet, and he lets out a quiet groan as he feels you tighten around him.

You whimper below him. Aaron's eyes are soft, and they carefully scan yours. You can tell that he's enjoying this, even if right now he's hardly moving — just slowly pushing his hips forward, encouraging your cunt to swallow him inch by inch.

"Hurts," you say shakily, the sting bottoming out any feeling of pleasure. The only satisfaction that you feel right now is knowing that Aaron's enjoying himself, and the fact that your cunt is slowly beginning to feel fill.

His brows pinch together as stills his hips. "You want me to stop?"

You shake your head. "You're not even in all of the way yet," you say warily, "keep going, please?"

Nodding his head slowly, he continues to push himself inside of you. Your walls flutter around him and his breath hitches, his body tensing as he palms your navel, feeling your stomach bulge slightly as you finally take all of him in.

Aaron stills his hips.

Your chest heaves, and your eyes prick with tears. It hurts, and it feels intrusive, and you know that it's supposed to hurt — but this much, really? You curse yourself somewhat for losing your virginity to a man whose cock is quite literally huge, and you exhale shakily as you meet his eyes.

"Is this okay?" He asks, and he's so caring that your bottom lip trembles slightly. He can see tears prick at your eyes and his heart drops in his chest, worrying that he may have hurt you.

His hand comes forward, swiping away the stray tear which slips from your eyes. "It's okay," you affirm, his warm palm cupping your cheek, "I'm okay. It just hurts, that's all."

"Do you want me to stay still, just like this?"

Your walls flutter around him as he speaks. He can feel how wet your cunt is, even when he's not moving. It's the most blissful thing he's ever felt in his entire life. Aaron wants to press against your navel again, wants to watch your plump stomach bulge further from his cock, but he restrains himself, because has plenty of time to do that; he has the rest of his life to do that with you.

Right now, all he needs to focus on is making you feel good.

"I want you to move," you say finally, tilting your head. Your nose brushes against his, and you give him a soft kiss. "Slowly, if that's okay."

Aaron gazes down at you through half-lidded eyes. Your heart hammers in your chest as you watch his dark brows knit together in concentration as he slowly begins to roll his hips into you, ensuring that his motions are gentle.

A warmth blossoms in your stomach. It's a different kind of warmth, and you feel the familiar feeling of pleasure beginning to shroud the pain of his intrusion.

"Right there," you choke out, your eyes screwing shut as his cock brushes against a particularly sensitive spot inside of you, "just like that."

A quiet groan slides past his lips as you praise him. He's doing good, and he bites down on his swollen lip as your walls tighten around him. His hands slides over your body, runs over your plump flesh lovingly. Aaron swears he could do this forever, just continuously fuck his cock into of you whilst simultaneously groping at your plump flesh. The way you moan and writhe beneath him is addicting, so beautiful, and he wants to worship you this way for forever.

Your breath hitches in your throat as he continues to softly roll his hips into you. His eyes are fluttering shut, and his hair is sticking to his forehead slightly, and he looks so good. The scent of sex and his cologne floods your senses, and you softly drag your nails over his shoulders, arching into him as his movements pick up.

He moans softly, and you screw your eyes shut, unable to look at him anymore, the pleasure growing overwhelming.

"Please," you beg, "more."

"I don't want to hurt you," Aaron whispers, and his voice shakes slightly. He grips at your hip to steady himself, the lewd sounds of your squelching cunt echoing around his bedroom.

"You won't hurt me," you say, and you look up at him, pressing your lips against his in reassurance, "I promise."

Aaron's jaw ticks, but he nods his head. His head lulls, his nose brushing against yours as he carefully begins to increase his speed. His hands linger at your hips, digging into the plump flesh softly, and he groans as your walls flutter around him again.

You're so wet. The sound of his balls slapping against your soaking cunt shrouds the bedroom, and you find yourself growing closer and closer as he moans against you. His cock hilts inside of you, brushing consistently against the area where you need him most.

You can feel the love that he has for you poking through. You feel it in every gentle squeeze he delivers you; sense it in the way that his eyes lingers on the soft jiggling of your breasts and your stomach. You don't feel insecure around him — you feel powerful, and you arch your back more to allow him deeper inside of you.

The sting is gone, replaced by an insatiable pleasure that devours you from the inside out. Aaron’s cock is perfect, hilting inside of you, and your walls squeeze him, milking everything that he's got.

You gasp. You feel warm and fuzzy, and your body tingles with desire. He keeps squeezing you, his hands enveloping your thighs as he pushes your legs up slightly. The position allows for a better angle, and you sigh contently as you feel him ride against the sensitive spot inside of your cunt.

Aaron's eyes scan yours, and you feel so overwhelmed, so beautiful. "You're so beautiful, honey," he murmurs, his eyes dragging down to study where your body meets, where the two of you become one. His breath hitches, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your thighs. "My perfect girl."

You flush wildly, your face burning with heat. He feels so good inside of you, and you moan against his lips as he kisses you again, gently, softly. You savour the taste of him, relishing in the fact that you can still somewhat taste yourself on your tongue, and your nails dig further into his shoulders as he rolls inside of you.

You're growing close. You can feel it in the way the knot inside of you is beginning to fray and break loose. Aaron’s lips stay pressed against yours, and he squeezes your trembling thighs reassuringly.

"It's okay," he breathes incoherently against your lips, "you can cum, honey. Be a good girl and let go for me, okay?"

Nodding your head, you allow yourself to lax, to succumb fully to the comforting feeling of him inside of you. His cock nuzzles against the most sensitive spot inside of you, and then your eyes flutter shut, an orgasmic bliss beginning to pulse through you.

You whine as you cum around him, your walls tight, fluttering around him. You tremble, but he keeps you steady, his hands gently pushing into the flesh of your thighs as he allows himself to grow sloppy in his thrusts. Aaron sighs contently as you paint him with your cum, his balls and thighs growing wet from your squirt, and he can't hold back anymore.

You gasp as you his cock leak inside of you — you feel his hot, ropey cum paint your walls, and it feels good; intensifying your own orgasm as you shake below him, your walls fluttering, your cunt swallowing all of him.

His hands stays tight against your thighs as he finishes inside of you. Aaron's lips graze over your neck, the sensation causing you tingle and shy away from him. He groans quietly into the crook of your neck, nuzzling into you as his hips still.

Your chest heaves and your heart races. Your body is tingling with the aftermath of your orgasm, and you pause before you purposefully tighten around him, trying to gauge his reaction. He cries out into your neck, and your stomach flutters in response. You milk his sensitive cock softly, your walls tight around him. His hips jolt into you, and you gasp as he hilts inside of you again.

Aaron's thankful that his balls no longer feel heavy, that the ache is dulled. He presses lazy kisses against your neck, his hand softly trailing up and down your burning skin. You're so warm that it's comforting, and he wants to stay like this forever, moulded inside of you.

Your motions are lazy as you drag your nails up and down his back, goosebump rising in their wake. His head stays nuzzled in your neck, and his breaths come slowly.

“Was that okay, honey?” He asks finally, his hair tickling you as he presses a soft kiss to your cheek. “I’m sorry if I hurt you.”

You let out a breathy laugh. “You didn’t hurt me, Aaron,” you murmur softly, looking at him with adoring eyes, “if anything, you did the opposite. That was really good.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. And, uh, I’d like to do it again with you sometime.”

The cheeky grin that you send him doesn’t go amiss, and he chuckles, giving you a small kiss. You smile as he sinks down, burrowing his head in your chest, his hands squeezing your hips and waist softly.

You could stay like this forever.

[hotchner-edu]

The Bet | Aaron Hotchner

Synopsis: The team bets Aaron that he won't be able to find himself a date for Dave's annual summer barbecue. Little do they know, he's already got his eye on you.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x F!BAU!Reader

Warnings: Fluff, Hotch being perfect

It's half past ten, the smell of paper and brewing coffee permeates through the bullpen, and your eyes were narrowed at the small little circle surrounding Emily's desk.

"Okay, I'll bite. What are we talking about?" You finally lean over to ask, rolling your eyes fondly when Derek flashes a mischievous grin at you. He had been giving you numerous glances over the past ten minutes to try and draw your attention, possessing the giddiness and subtly of a puppy.

"Rossi's barbecue is next week." Emily muses, a bright glint in her eyes.

You nod slowly and cautiously, not sure what you were walking into. "Right..." you drag the word out a bit. "And? What are you planning? You only have that kind of smile when you're up to something, Em."

"Well, Rossi's making plus one's mandatory this year." Derek says with a sly grin, crossing his arms as he leans back against Emily's desk.

You raise your eyebrows and glance to Spencer. "Oh? And we're all in agreement with this new rule?"

"I believe Rossi's exact words were 'you people need to get out more,' so..." Emily laughs softly, shrugging as if his words had become law.

Spencer frowns a little and nods. "He also said that it would be good to bring someone we actually like and know because 'a man who doesn't spend time with his family can never be a real man.'"

"Did Rossi really just quote the fucking Godfather at us." You deadpan and glance over to Emily who raises her hands up and shrugs again. "Okay, fine. Now I'm a bit scared to ask, but why are you guys laughing?"

Derek smiles brightly before answering with an amused tone. "Because this means Hotch has to bring a date too. Rossi's already made a bet with him that he won't be able to find a date, and we're all getting in on the action too. Losers owe a hundred each."

"Wow, Rossi's not wasting any time. So, what did you guys bet on?" You ask with a near unimpressed tone and raise an eyebrow.

Spencer glances between the three of you guys before giving you the Sparknotes version. "Well, the three of us are betting with Rossi. Penelope's still deciding, and we haven't gotten to JJ yet."

"Well, I'll bet you twenty that JJ decides to sit out on this. I mean, guys, please, are you all really convinced that Aaron Hotchner of all people can't score himself a date?" You raise your eyebrows, unimpressed by the wit of your three friends.

You have to refrain from speaking further, knowing it'd turn into a spiel of how attractive you thought your unit chief was. Plus, you weren't trying to deal with them profiling the HR nightmare-sized crush you harbored for Aaron.

"You're going against the grain, sweetheart?" Derek chuckles, lips tugged into an excited grin.

Emily shakes her head and interjects. "Okay, but there's no way he's going to be able to get a date before the party. He was hand delivered like two weeks worth of paperwork this morning."

"It's Hotch. He's full of surprises." You grin, glancing around the bustling bullpen. "And anyway, you guys already have dates?"

Derek clicks his tongue and nods with a pleased smirk. "Yep. You guys remember Savannah, right?"

"Oh yeah, I like her." Emily chimes in before groaning and leaning back in her chair. "Ugh, I don't know if my guy is going to be busy."

You shake your head and smile, teasing her with a sympathetic tone. "Well, if he has any sense, he'll drop whatever he's doing to come with you."

Emily flashes a grin at you, silently telling you that she'd talk to you later about outfit details. Spencer is lost in thought for a second before you see him frowning.

"Spence?" You ask slowly, tilting your head.

He hesitates for a moment before looking at the three of you. "Do you guys think Rossi will let me in without a date?"

"No." Rossi's voice suddenly rings out as he walks by, blowing on his steaming coffee to hide his grin as he beelines to his office.

Derek snickers and claps his hand over Spencer's shoulder. "There's your answer, kid."

Later that day, you're hunched over your desk and nursing your headache with a cup of tea as you read through some reports. Just as you were about to reread the paragraph you zoned out on, you hear your name being called.

Raising your head up and blinking away the blobs swimming across your vision, you see Aaron standing in front of his office door, hands on the railing as he eyes you. "My office."

Standing up slowly, you feel your muscles aching as you stretch a bit. When you've made your way into Aaron's office, you see him leaning back against his desk, arms crossed.

"Yes, sir?" You ask and slowly come to a stop in the middle of his office.

"You've heard about Dave's party next Saturday, yes?" He asks lowly, eyebrows drawn together.

Nodding in confusion, you wait for him to continue.

"And his terms for the night?"

"Uhm, yes, I have. Is this about the bet being made, sir?" You prod gently, wanting to know if he was trying to sleuth out who was betting what.

"Yes." He answers with an unyielding gaze, looking unsure of himself for a moment. "I was wondering if you had someone you were going to bring."

"Oh." You blush a little and smile smally. "No... A lot of us are still trying to find dates."

Aaron huffs in amusement and nods. "Yeah, Dave's really stepping on our necks this year."

"He just wants an excuse to cook more, I'm sure." You chuckle softly.

"It wouldn't be the first time..." He smiles before clearing his throat and straightening up again. "Well, I was wondering if you'd like to accompany me that evening as my plus one." He says, looking at you gently.

It feels like the wind is being knocked out of you as you stare at him owlishly. "Me?" You ask dumbly.

"Yes, it's okay if you would prefer not to though, I know this is very sudden." He reassures you.

Blinking rapidly, you see the slightest bit of pink creeping across his ears. "Oh, no, I would love to be your date for the party." You answer quickly, not wanting to let the opportunity slip through your fingers.

"Really?" He says with a bit of relief, the stress immediately dissipating from his face.

You nod and smile shyly, fiddling with your fingers. "Yes. I'm happy that you thought of me."

Aaron nods back and tries to compose himself a bit. "Of course... and I'm happy that you agreed."

Grinning softly at him, you chuckle a bit. "Well, I'll call you this weekend so we can settle the details, if that's okay..."

"That's perfect." He answers quickly, his eyes warm and filled with an indistinguishable emotion.

"Great! Well, I'll, uh, leave you to it then." You slowly back out of the room, shooting him a reassuring smile and fleeing back to your desk in disbelief.

When the night of Rossi's party finally turns up, you're anxiously pacing around your apartment, checking your outfit for the fifth time. Aaron had insisted on picking you up, ever the gentleman.

Time trickles by slowly, and when you finally hear a gentle knock on your door, you're practically flying toward it. Checking the peephole for a split second, you swing the door open and your eyes immediately dart down to the bouquet of roses in Aaron's hand.

"Oh!" You sputter out in shock, taking a moment to gather yourself. "Wow, they're beautiful. Thank you..." Blushing brightly, you smile as he hands you the bouquet.

"You look beautiful." He speaks gently, but his gaze is intense as he takes you in.

"Thank you. You look amazing..." It's clear that you're a bit flustered as you hurry to quickly put the roses in a vase, eyes continuing to flicker to his figure in your doorway.

He was in a black button up that hugged his arms and torso in ways that had you almost faceplanting with every step.

You're amazed that you manage to make it down to where his car is parked without your knees giving out as his hand ghosts over the small of your back the entire trek there.

He opens the passenger door for you and waits for you to get in before gently closing the door. It was driving you up the wall how gentle and warm he was being, and you almost wanted this to be a real date.

As he drives you both to Rossi's mansion, you speak softly to him, trying to ignore the way he steers with one hand on the wheel.

"Spencer texted me yesterday. He's bringing a girl he met at a coffee shop." You smile softly, meeting Aaron's gaze as he rolls to a stop at a red light.

"Really? That's good." He responds quietly, smiling fondly at the mention of Spencer.

"I know. He was worried about it all week, but I don't think he realizes how many women are attracted to him." You chuckle softly, nodding subtly toward the windshield as the stoplight turns green.

Aaron nods and grows quiet. A few minutes of silence pass before he speaks up, voice laden with nerves. "I'm grateful that Dave made the bet."

"Really?" You respond in surprise, wondering if it was because he was going to be a couple hundred dollars richer by the end of the night.

"Yes because it gave me the push I needed to finally ask you out."

Your lips part a bit at his words, butterflies swinging around your stomach and buzzing to the tips of your fingers. "Aaron?"

"I don't want tonight to continue with the pretense that I only asked you out to win the bet." His voice is mellow and growing more confident by the syllable, eyes occasionally flitting to yours as he drives on the highway. "I've admired you for a long time as an agent and a friend... and it didn't take long for that to turn into something more for me."

"Why are you telling me this now?" You muster up the courage to ask, leaning a bit closer to the center console between your seats.

"Because I realized these feelings were only growing everyday I saw you. Even if it's selfish, I want to be honest with you." He braves another glance at you.

You let out a heavy breath full of relief as you smile brightly at him, the setting sun casting a glowing pool of pinks and oranges across your beaming face. "I like you too, Aaron. I have for a long time as well."

Aaron's free hand reaches for your hand, and you happily let him tangle his fingers with yours. It was clear that nothing more needed to be said between you both, the connection between your hearts growing stronger with every ounce of relief and adrenaline that filled you both.

The feeling of his calloused hand in yours keeps a buzzing warmth coursing through your body for the rest of the drive.

When you pull up to Rossi's opulent house, neither of you notice the curtains of the window by the front door moving as your team take turns peeking outside when they realize Aaron's car has arrived.

Aaron walks with you to the front door with his arm around your waist, a bright glint in his gaze as he's radiating unadulterated joy.

Neither of you even pretend to be sheepish when the door swings open and Penelope's squeals meet your ears, everyone piecing together the puzzle when they see Aaron holding you close.

"We were starting to think you both got lost." Rossi's voice rings out as he chuckles and beckons you both in, looking at Aaron with an impressed smirk.

"Thanks for having us, Dave." Aaron grins, squeezing your waist before loosening his hold to let Penelope tackle you in a hug, Emily and JJ's enthusiastic questions not far behind.

"When did that happen?" Emily gapes, excitedly poking your side and raising her eyebrows.

You hug JJ and answer her from over JJ's shoulder. "The day you all made the bet. I told you guys that Aaron's full of surprises."

"Remind me to never bet against you in the future. Well, someone get Derek over here." Emily shakes her head in disbelief as you all slowly migrate toward the kitchen.

Aaron's hand finds yours again as you triumphantly smile, "Oh right, I hope you all brought your wallets! It's time to pay up."

"My man!" Derek's voice echoes around the house as he emerges from the wine cellar, beaming at Aaron. "Where's your date?" He asks, clearly unaware of the proximity between you and Aaron.

Aaron holds up your joined hands and chuckles. "I think this means I win?"

Morgan nearly drops the bottle of wine in his grip as he swivels his head for a double take at you both.

Rossi leaps toward Morgan, arms extended forward as panic seeps into his eyes. "Careful! That's 1860 Madeira!"

Morgan groans and lets Rossi wrestle the bottle from his grip. "Will you ever let us win at something, man?"

Aaron's chest rumbles with a chuckle as he rubs your knuckles with his thumb and shakes his head in amusement. "Not a chance."

[shelbgrey]

Hi I just started following you if it's alright can I make a request for a Hotch smut fic x plus size reader I don't see many plus size fics

Thunder storms to clear skies (Aaron Hotchner)

Paring: Aaron Hotchner x Plus sized!reader

Summary: Aaron and y/n has always had feelings for each other. It was always there and aaron was cluelessly over protective of her. Then after a rough case and a thunderstorm everything was unexpectedly let out.

Warrings: SMUT! Unprotected sex, smut with very little plot, hints at one bed trop, oral(F receiving), slight insucrities, after care, slight rough sex, talks of scars, slight choking, thunder storms, slight language, not edited

MasterList ML2

The BAU had a case, nothing unusual. It was in a small town and that meant the motels were smaller. Small enough y/n and Hotch had to share a motel room and of course there was only one bed - didn't see that coming. Ever since that morning, y/n couldn't shake the thoughts of having to share a room with him.

By the end of the night, the case had ended on a rough note, there was tension between them. Both frustration and sexual. They didn't say a word to each other on the way to the motel room and on top of that it was pouring rain outside, so they were both soaked by the time they got into the room and to add insult to injury the power was out.

“Great” y/n mumbled to herself as Arron flicked the light switch up and down at lightning speed three times, no power. She took a couple of steps into the dark motel room, taking it all in. Y/n shrugged a bit, feeling her soaked t-shirt sticking to her skin uncomfortably.

Hotch bit his lip as he tried to ignore the sight of her, his eyes lingering on the curves of her body as the soaked shirt clung to her skin. He knew that he shouldn't be staring at her like this, but he just couldn't help himself. “Yeah, great” He said as he tossed his bag to the ground before running a hand through his damp hair.

Y/n could say she was lucky the power was out because her cheeks were an embarrassing shade. His eyes fell to her face, and he couldn't help but notice the pink tint across her cheeks. Like I said, she could say she was lucky. Aaron let out a quiet sigh, wondering if this was a bad idea. Aaron knew he should keep his distance, but he was finding it harder and harder to do so.

“You should probably get out of those wet clothes” He said, his voice slightly gruff.

“Y-yeah” she said, stepping backwards just one step. Her eyes searched the room, trying to find the outline of his tall frame in the pitch black room. She would say it was unsettling how dark it was, but every few minutes lighting would light up the room giving her sneak peaks of him. Each strike she'd notice how his arms looked in his soaked button up or how his damp hair fell carelessly over his forehead. Y/n tried to find his eyes when the room went dark again. She stepped backwards again, the tension boiling over.

Aaron took a step forward, closing the distance between them just slightly. He was close enough now that he could see her face in the flickers of lightning, the way her wet t-shirt clung to her curves, the way her eyes glinted in the low light.

His heart pounded in his chest as he watched her step backwards, his eyes remaining locked on her. He could see her looking at him, taking him in. The tension between them was palpable, and he couldn't deny the attraction that was growing. He stands in front of her, the tension now undeniable. His breath hitched as he looked down at her, her faces inches apart. His eyes were dark, staring into hers with some sort of intensity.

The pouring rain against the window was the only sound as the rest of the room fell silent. His was breathing heavy, trying to fight the urge but he couldn't. He leaned closer still, his lips now inches from her. His breath was warm and shaky.

It was y/n who couldn't take it anymore. She grabbed his face and pulled him down to her height. She met him halfway, pressing her lips against his.

His arms wrapped around her at once, pulling her flush against his body. His hands gripped her hips tight, as if he was afraid to let her go. He kissed her back fiercely, like a man drowning who finally came up for air. He could feel her body pressed tight against his, the heat and wetness of their clothes. His tongue slid into her mouth, tasting, savoring her.

Aaron pushed her up against the wall, forcing an unexpected moan past y/n's lips as her back hit the wall. His body pressed flush against hers, his grip on her hips tight - like he never wanted to let go. He deepened the kiss, his tongue meeting her in a rushed but careful dance.

Y/n grabbed his damp tie, pulling his body against hers as he let out a low groan. The sound was almost feral as he pressed his body against hers - trapping her against the wall. He took a firm hold on her jaw, tilting her face to get a better angle. He deepened the kiss, the rushed and careful moment quickly turning into heated passion as one of his legs found its way between her thighs, pressing his weight against her.

The sound that left her lips was covered by a loud clap of thunder, both of them too lost in each other to be bothered by the loud cry of nature. Y/n's lips moved against his in a hurried frenzy, her fingers going to the knot in his tie and fumbling with it till it was untied and on the floor.

The second clap of thunder seemed to ignite something within him, and he practically growled as he leaned close to her, nipping her lip. His fingers ran up her legs, his touch becoming more possessive, more intense. His body pressed hers more firmly against the wall, he could feel the heat radiating off of her body. As their lips clashed together her hands went to the back of his neck, pulling him closer as her back arched off the wall, chests pressing together.

Aaron groaned against her lips, his hips now pinning her to the wall. He felt himself coming undone, the need to have her was growing. His hands roamed across her body, wanting - no, no needing her. He broke the kiss, his breath ragged as he leaned his forehead against hers. “If I start this, I'm not going to be able to stop” He murmured, his eyes burning into hers with need, his fingers digging into her hips.

Y/n spoke before she could think. “Don't stop then” she said softly, her voice was shaky as she caught her breath.

Her brain was fuzzy as she nervously guided him backwards towards the bed. Aaron's head was swimming with desire as he felt the back of his thighs press against the bed. His eyes never broke confection with hers as he landed on the foot of the bed. Her breath hitched as she felt how hard he was pressing against her thigh.

His eyes locked on hers as she stood before him. He couldn't resist the urge to touch her, his hands running up her thighs and around to grip her hips. He could feel the excitement growing in the pit of his stomach, and he took in a long shuddering breath. “Jesus, you are so goddamn beautiful” He murmured, his voice low and gruff, his hands grasping her tighter. He pulled her closer, his eyes locked hungrily on hers.

Y/n placed her hands on his cheeks, holding his face in her hands gently. She dipped her head down, pressing her lips against his. Her lips moved against his again, mirroring the rushed desire he was showing just moments before. Y/n reached down between them and started fumbling with the buttons on his soaked shirt. He moaned against her lips as he felt the buttons on his shirt being freed one by one, the feel of her fingers against his skin driving him wild. His fingers found the waistband of her jeans, the wet fabric clinging to her skin. His hands roamed up and down her body, touching every inch, his fingers digging into her hips.

Y/n pushed the damn article of clothing off his shoulders. Just as her eyes flickered back up to his, lighting glew through the window and reflected off his blown pupils. The quick flicker of natural light showed trust but also nervousness in her eyes. “so, umm, top or bottom?” y/n closed her eyes, embarrassed that she asked that. “Actually, you should be on top” she said with a sliver of insecurity. He was handsome, so fucking handsome and he made her nervous.

Aaron was staring up at her, his eyes searching her face. “Of course I'll be on top,” He murmured, not missing her shyness. He gently pulled her onto his lap, his hand running through her hair. “It's okay to be nervous. I won't hurt you” He said, his voice gentle as he held her close.

“I'm not nervous... It's just been a while since I've done this”

Aaron smiled softly, running his hands up her thighs, her damp jeans still cleaning to her plush flesh. “Me too, but we're alright” He murmured, pressing a soft kiss against her collarbone. His lips moved across her skin, soft and gentle at first, then more heated. His hands roamed across her back, feeling her wet shirt sticking to her.

“I know” y/n mumbled softly against his lips, trusting him. He kissed her again, harder this time, his hands tugging at the damp shirt on her skin, wanting it gone.

“Aaron” she said softly, grabbing his hand before he could get her shirt off.

He halted at the sound of his name, looking up at her with a mixture of concern and desire. His heart was pounding, but he held still. “What is it?” He asked, his voice gruff and breathless. He let go of her shirt, his hand going to cup her jaw, his thumb gently stroking her cheek.

Y/n simply shook her head no. She didn't care if it was pitch black in the room and her shirt was uncomfortably soaked, she couldn't let him see her without it. Aaron saw the hesitation, his thumb tracing the line of her jaw softly. He could feel the tension in her, and he wanted nothing more than to take away her discomfort.

“Please, don't be shy with me,” He said, his voice gentle, but with just the slightest hint of pleading. He didn't want her to hide from him, not tonight. “if it's-”

“It's not that” y/n cut him off, knowing where he was going. It wasn't her size, she never had a problem with it. That's how she was made and she rocked it beautifully all the time. The only problem was there was a scar that started on her side and went across her stomach. It was freshly healed, an unwanted souvenir from a case last month.

“I don't want you seeing the scar”

Aaron understood instantly, his expression softening once he realized the reason. His hand drifted from her jaw, gently brushing across her torso. “Can I?” He asked, his voice gentle. He didn't want to make her any more uncomfortable, but he wanted her to know he loved every inch of her.

Y/n collected her thoughts and tried to throw every ounce of worry out the window with the thunder storm. She nodded softly. “yeah”

Aaron let out a small breath, his fingers slowly pushing up the edge of her shirt until he reached the scar. He traced along the edge of it, his touch surprisingly delicate, as if he was afraid of hurting her. He felt the texture of the scar with his fingertips, letting out a soft sigh. “You're so beautiful” He whispered, his eyes flicking up to hers as he threw the damn shirt across the room.

“Just shut up and kiss me” y/n said softly.

“Demanding” he teased as he leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to her lips, his hands slowly sliding up her sides, his touch gentle and soothing. He slowly laid her back on the bed, his body covering hers as he continued to kiss her slowly. He pressed her body back against the bed, his hands going to the waistband of her jeans. He pulled back slightly, unbuttoning them. Y/n gripped his shoulders and lifted her hips as he got them off with ease. He let out a low growl of appreciation at the sight of her bare beneath him. He tossed her jeans aside before his hands grabbed her waist, lifting her up higher on the bed until her head hit the pillows. He leaned down, pressing kisses along the scar on her stomach.

“Aaron” y/n stuttered softly, grabbing his hair gently.

He ignored the tug on his hair, his lips trailing lower until he was kissing along the jagged line. He could feel her tensing under his touch, but he didn't stop. He wanted her to know that this scar didn't change anything, that she was so beautiful to him.

His voice was a rough whisper, his hands smoothing over her hips. “You're thinking too much”

She let out a small moan in return as he felt her relax beneath him, and he hummed softly in approval. His lips trailed lower, pressing kisses to the soft skin of her inner thighs. He gently pushed her legs apart, settling between them. His fingers hooked into the sides of her underwear, slowly pulling it down.

Y/n shuttered In anticipation. She bit her lip, her uncontrollable sounds covered by another clap of thunder from outside as Arron tossed the underwear aside. His eyes roamed over her bare form as he leaned in, pressing a kiss to her center, making her head fall back in pleasure. His tongue snaked out, tasting her slowly. He looked up at her through his lashes, his hands resting on her inner thighs, keeping her spread open for him.

His tongue dove deeper, tasting more of her. Y/n’s hands went to his hair, gripping the soft strands for leverage. “Aaron!” she cried out, her voice desperate and mixing with the loudness of the thunder.

He growled softly, his fingers digging into her thighs as she arched her hips. He spread her wider, his tongue flicking against her clit softly. He could hear her getting louder, her moans covered by the storm outside.

“Aaron, please” y/n moaned desperately as her grip tightened in his hair, making him harder. He spread her wider, feasting on her. He could feel her legs shaking slightly, her moans getting louder and less covered by the storm.

He looked up at her, his eyes dark with desire. He knew what she was asking for. He slid two fingers inside her, curling them gently as his tongue continued to work her clit. He wanted to make sure she was ready, wanted to hear those desperate moans turn into screams of pleasure.

“P-please,” y/n shuddered. “I need to cum”

He felt her tighten around his fingers, and he knew she was close. He picked up the pace, his fingers curling deeper inside her as his tongue moved faster against her clit. He could feel her body tensing, her legs shaking as the scream was building in your throat.

“Come for me”

There was a crash of thunder then lightning as her head fell back and her climax hit. Her hips bucked up as her release hit her like a truck. Aaron kept going, his tongue and fingers never stopping as he rode out her orgasm with her. He could feel her juices coating his fingers, hear her screams mixing with the thunder. When her body finally started to come down, he slowly pulled his fingers out, bringing them to his mouth and sucking them clean.

“Fuck” y/n moaned softly, catching her breath.

Aaron crawled up her body, his eyes never leaving hers. He pressed a soft kiss to her lips, letting her taste herself on him. He could feel her body still trembling slightly from the aftershocks of her orgasm. He smiled against her lips, his hands cupping her face gently.

He groaned against her lips as she reached for his belt, his hips automatically thrusting forward as her hand reached into his pants. He quickly kicked them off and boxers, his hard length springing free. He broke the kiss long enough to say breathlessly. “Wait”

“Y-yeah?” she asked softly.

Aaron positioned himself at her entrance, his hands gripping her hips tightly. He leaned down, his forehead resting against hers. “I love you”

Her breath hitched and without hesitation. “I love you too”

He whispered it again as he slowly pushed inside her, filling her completely as she cried out his name and dug her nails into his back. He paused there, buried to the hilt, looking into her eyes. He could feel her wrapping around him, pulling him in deeper. He swallowed hard, his body tensing as he tried to hold back.

He started to move slowly, his hips rolling against hers. He could feel her body clenching around him, pulling him deeper with each thrust. He kissed her deeply, swallowing her moans as he increased his pace. The sound of skin on skin filled the room, mixed with the thunder and rain outside.

“Aaron” she moaned.

He felt her legs wrap around his waist, pulling him even closer. His hands gripped her hips tightly, lifting her slightly so he could hit that sweet spot inside her with each thrust. He broke the kiss to growl “Fuck, baby”

“C-can,” she shuddered against his neck. “Can you go harder?”

Aaron groaned deeply, his grip on her hips tightening. He started to move faster, harder, each thrust driving deeper into her. The sound of flesh slapping against flesh filled the room, mixing with the thunderous storm outside. He could feel her nails biting into his back, spurring him on.

“Shit” she moaned desperately, tugging at his hair as she nipped and kissed his shoulder.

He growled again, the sound vibrating against her. Y/n’s grip tightening in his hair, making him thrust even harder. He slammed into her mercilessly as her body trembled, her legs wrapped tightly around his waist as the second scream built in her throat.

“Aaron!” He felt her body start to tense up, her inner muscles gripping him like a vice. He gritted his teeth, his thrusts becoming erratic as he felt his own release building. He wrapped a hand around her throat gently, applying a bit of pressure. “Come on, baby”

“Oh, fuck” y/n moaned, her eyes rolling back in pleasure at the feeling of his hand around her throat.

He saw the flash of lightning illuminating the room, highlighting her flushed face and the look of pure bliss. He could feel her body tensing up even more, her legs squeezing his waist like a vice. “Now,” He growled possessively. “Come now”

At another cry of pleasure, his grip on her throat tightened slightly as he felt her orgasm hit her. Y/n's inner muscles milking his cock perfectly. He let out a deep, guttural moan as he followed her over the edge, spilling himself inside her with hard, deep thrusts. “Fuck”

Y/n's breath hitched, squeezing her eyes shut as Aaron's hips slowed to a stop. He let out a shuddering groan, releasing his grip on her throat. His forehead rested against hers as his hips gave a few more small, involuntary thrusts, milking every last drop. He took a moment to catch his breath, his heart pounding wildly against her chest.

“Fuck” she said softly and breathlessly.

His lips curved into a satisfied smirk against her skin. He nuzzled her neck again, slowly sliding out of her as he did. He felt her warmth mixed with his release dripping out, causing him to shudder at the reminder. “Language” He teased softly.

“Yes, boss” y/n rolled her eyes playfully, nuzzling her nose against his.

He chuckled softly, his body relaxing even more. He captured her lips again slowly, deeply. “How are your thighs or neck? Sore?” He asked softly, his touch gentle - he knew he wasn't exactly gentle towards the end.

“I'm good”

Aaron smiled against her lips, his eyes searching hers. He wanted to make sure she was truly okay. He pressed a kiss to the tip of her nose before slowly moving off the bed. “Let's get cleaned up” He murmured.

“I don't think I can move” she murmured.

He cracked a smile, his heart swelling. He leaned back to look at her, his eyes roaming over her flushed face and kiss-swollen lips. His hands tightened on her hips for a moment before releasing them, letting her down gently. “Stay here for a moment, alright?”

He kissed her forehead then slid out of bed, grabbing his boxers from the floor and slipping them on. He turned back to look at you, his eyes filled with warmth. He returned a few minutes later, carrying a warm washcloth. He climbed back into bed beside her, gently cleaning the sweat and traces of their passionate encounter from her body tenderly. He threw the washcloth to the side once he was finished.

“You didn't have to do all this” she said softly.

“I want to. Besides, I think you've earned a little pampering after the way I just ravished you, " His tone was playful but sincere as he climbed into bed beside her. “You know” he started.

“Hm?” she said, resting her head on his chest.

“I think next time, I'll put a pillow under your hips. Might help with the marks.” He murmured, running his fingers through her hair.

“So, this isn't a one time thing?” she said softly, lifting her head.

He looked at you, his expression soft and serious. He brushed a strand of hair out of her face. “No, it's not a one time thing. If you'll have me, I'd like to keep doing this. Keep exploring this. Whatever this is between us”

“Me too” she smiled softly.

His smile mirrored hers, his eyes crinkling at the corners. He leaned down to press a soft kiss to her lips. “Good. Now, get some sleep. We'll talk more in the morning” He pulled her even closer, nuzzling into her neck as they fell asleep to the sound of the rain outside. The storm no longer thunderbolts and lightning, but the soft pattering of gent rain.

[plussizefantasia]

$45

Flufftober Day 23: Apple Picking

Aaron Hotchner x reader

Word Count: 0.6k

AN: This one is short and sweet. Feedback and Reblogs are encouraged, see y'all tomorrow.

divider credit @royallaesthetics

$45 dollars. Fourty-five dollars. That is how much it costs to go to an apple orchard and pick your own apples off of trees you don’t own to put in a bag that is way too small to cost that much. Aaron was at war with himself. On one hand, this excursion was entirely too fiscally irresponsible. On the other, your smile was bright enough that he was sure if it got any brighter he’d need to fish out the sunglasses from his car.

Apple picking was your idea, it was your turn to plan a monthly date night and you had told him that it was a “quintessential couple’s experience” that everyone had to try at least once. Rules were rules, it was your month to pick, so Aaron would go along with whatever you wanted, as long as it wouldn’t put himself or you in danger. The only danger at the apple orchard was to his wallet, which wasn’t enough reason to say no.

Not that Aaron had actually ever said no to you. You were pretty responsible often not asking for much, just his time and affection when you could get it, which wasn’t as often as either of you would particularly like. Aaron gave it freely when he could. 

Walking through the rows of the trees, your hands intertwined and swinging back and forth. Aaron was holding the bag which wasn’t very full at this point, only four or five apples in one hand, and your hand in the other. You were twisting your head back and forth, looking for good apples and paying extra close attention to the story Aaron was telling you about what Jack had said when he dropped off from school today.

“He wanted to come, but I told him that it would be cold and that he would have to carry a really heavy bag full of apples and he changed his mind.”

“You didn’t?” You turned to face him.

“The bag isn’t that heavy yet, ask me in a couple of minutes.” He teased.

You smacked his shoulder and began walking again.

“Oh! Look at that one honey! It’s so big.” You lifted your hand and pointed in the general direction of a tree. It took a couple of seconds for Aaron to find the apple you were thinking of, but when he did he let out the smallest of sighs. It was big, it was also very high up and deep within the leaves.

“Can you grab it?” You asked him. Aaron merely placed the bag from his hands onto the ground, pushed up his sleeves, and practically climbed into the tree. He was swallowed by the foliage but emerged moments later clutching the large red apple in his hand, victorious. 

You reached up to pluck the leaf from his hair and as you pulled away you also left a kiss on his cheek. 

“My hero.”

“That’s what you keep me around.”

“For your height?”

“For my willingness to do whatever you ask, as long as you ask it with that smile.”

You practically swooned and couldn’t help yourself from pulling him in by the color of his jacket and placing a large kiss on his lips. 

His free arm immediately wrapped around your back, pulling your body further into his, and deepened the kiss. It wasn’t quite a full makeout, you were in public after all but it was clear that Aaron was relaxed.

When he was with you, he wasn’t Agent Hotchner, BAU unit chief. He was you’re sweet Aaron, who would climb into a tree if you flashed him a smile and spent way too much on apples that he had to pick himself. And he wouldn’t have it any other way.