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alinathinkstoomuch · 7 days ago

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A White Lie Amongst Chocolate Cake

pairing: aaron hotchner x nanny!reader summary: you and jack throw hotch a surprise birthday party but you had to tell a white lie in the process warnings: ummm none i don't think?? i love nanny!reader she's the best and i'm trying to refrain from smutting it up with the two of them... at least for now (i'm trying to give you guys genres!!) slight angst at the end because pining word count: 4.1k (someone tell me to shut up)

You had been Jack’s nanny for almost a year now, and it was easily the best job you’d ever had. Jack was a sweetheart – most of the time – your hours were manageable, there wasn’t a strict dress code, and most importantly your boss, Mr Hotchner, was… nice.

Or at least as nice as a brooding, workaholic federal agent could be.

But over the months, you’d learned a few things – small details that could soften the edges of his demeanour. The way his lips curled ever so slightly when Jack made him laugh, the rare moments when exhaustion gave way to something gentler, something almost warm. He wasn’t always broody. You just had to know where to look.

And lately, you had been looking a little too much.

At first, it was curiosity. Aaron Hotchner was layers upon layers of complexities and quirks you wanted to know. He was intimidating at first, especially on your first day – standing there in a crisp suit, a gun holstered at his hip, his expression unreadable. It had sent a chill down your spine, a silent reminder of the world he lived in.

But you adapted.

Because when the suit came off – not that you ever saw that happening, but you liked to think of it metaphorically – he was simply a father. A man who pressed a gentle kiss to Jack’s crown after tucking him in, whose shoulders sagged just slightly when he stepped through the front door at the end of the day. Sometimes, when he thought no one was watching, he’d stand still for a moment, letting out a breath like he was unravelling at the seams.

Maybe it was the night he came home late, tie askew, exhaustion settling into the lines of his face. Jack had already been asleep, so instead of offering your usual quick goodbye, you hesitated. Then, before you could overthink it, you asked if he wanted some tea.

He had looked at you for a beat – just long enough for you to wonder if you’d overstepped –before nodding.

So you made it, sliding the warm mug into his hands, and the two of you sat in the kitchen, the only sound being the quiet hum of the fridge and the rhythmic ticking of the clock. He didn’t say much, and neither did you, but it didn’t feel uncomfortable.

Maybe that was when it changed.

Or maybe it was the morning he called, voice rough with sleep, muttering an apology because he was stuck at work again. He hadn’t needed to say sorry – it wasn’t like you expected him to be home on time, not in his line of work – but something about the way he said it, the way his voice softened at your response, made your chest tighten in a way it shouldn’t have.

One thing you had also learnt about your boss was that he was a deeply selfless man. So selfless, in fact, that if Jack hadn’t mentioned his upcoming birthday in passing, you would have missed it entirely.

It didn’t surprise you. He didn’t seem like the kind of man who enjoyed being the centre of attention, who would welcome a big celebration in his honour. He barely tolerated it when you so much as packed his lunch or handed him a coffee before he left for work – grumbling in that low, exasperate way that somehow never quite reached his eyes. And you didn’t even want to think about the reaction you’d gotten the one time you picked up his dry cleaning.

But still, you wanted to do something. Something that was small but thoughtful and Jack did too.

So, on the morning of his birthday, when he rushed out the door like he always did, barely pausing long enough to grab the travel mug of coffee you had set out for him, you got to work. You had a few precious hours before Jack got home from school, just enough time to pull everything together.

First, you picked up the decorations – nothing excessive, just enough to make the space feel inviting. A quiet ‘Hey, we haven’t forgotten about you’, rather than a ‘Brace yourself, you’re about to spend two hours making polite conversation with people you barely know’.

Then came the ingredients for the cake, carefully chosen after Jack’s very serious deliberation over what his dad would like best. Chocolate, obviously, but not too sweet because, as Jack had pointed out, “Dad drinks his coffee black, so he probably doesn’t like too much sugar.” You hadn’t argued with his logic.

And finally, the last stop – the pottery studio.

It had started as a light-hearted hobby, something to do on a slow afternoon. Jack had been fascinated by the idea, insisting you take him to a class the moment you mentioned it. And when you did, he had thrown himself into it with the kind of enthusiasm only a child could muster, carefully painting a mug for his dad – deep blue with a slightly wobbly ‘NO. 1 DAD’ scrawled across it. You had made a plate to match.

Because for all the times Hotch refused to let anyone take care of him, maybe this time, he wouldn’t have a choice.

The day passed faster than you expected, a blur of preparation and carefully chosen details. Before you knew it, you were picking Jack up from school, and within minutes, the two of you were elbow-deep in flour and frosting, making an absolute mess in the kitchen.

Jack was having the time of his life. He had insisted on cracking the eggs himself, which resulted in you fishing out stray bits of shell from the batter while he laughed. The flour? Everywhere. The icing? Somehow on his cheek, in his hair, and suspiciously on the kitchen cabinet despite him never going near it.

Jack peeked up at you, grinning. “Do you think Dad’s gonna like it?”

You glanced at the cake which was a little lopsided, a bit rough around the edges, but made with nothing but love. Maybe a little too much of it from you.

“I think he’s going to love it,” you said, smiling as you smoothed the frosting over the top. “And besides, once we stick the candles in, they’ll hide all the… character it has.”

Jack giggled. “You mean the wonky bits?”

“Exactly.” You tapped a bit of frosting onto his nose, earning a squeal of protest before he ran off, undoubtedly to make a mess somewhere else.

As far as you knew, there wasn’t a case today. That meant Hotch was stuck with paperwork, and once that was done, he’d be home. On a good day, that usually meant just after six.

But as the clock edged closer to seven, Jack’s excitement had started to fade, replaced by a quiet sort of disappointment. He looked up at you with big, sad doe eyes, the kind that made your heart twist, and you found yourself hoping that nothing had come up. Hotch always let you know if he’d be late. Always.

Maybe it was just one of those days. Too much paperwork, a last-minute meeting, heavier-than-usual traffic. Or maybe – and this was the thought that unsettled you the most –he had figured it out.

He was a profiler, after all. He noticed everything. And maybe, just maybe, he’d pieced together what you and Jack had been up to and decided to quietly sidestep the attention, no matter how small the fuss was meant to be. Because that was the kind of man he was. Someone who deflected, who sidestepped gratitude and celebration as if they were luxuries he didn’t have the time or the right to indulge in.

You sighed and pulled out your phone, deciding to send him a quick text.

Hey, will you be home soon?

The reply came faster than you expected.

Not for a while. Do you need to leave?

You frowned, glancing at Jack, who was absently toying with the hem of his shirt, disappointment clear in the slump of his shoulders. Okay, you thought, desperate times call for desperate measures.

Your fingers flew across the screen before you could second-guess yourself.

I do actually. I have a date at eight.

You barely had time to put your phone down before the read receipt popped up. Three little dots appeared – then disappeared. Then appeared again.

And then nothing.

You stared at the screen, waiting for a response that didn’t come.

Jack, still fidgeting with his shirt, looked up at you. His gaze flicked to your phone, then back to your face. “Uh oh,” he muttered.

Your brows furrowed. “What?”

Jack pressed his lips together, clearly debating something before finally deciding to say it. “Dad’s gonna be mad now.”

“Mad?” That wasn’t the reaction you’d expected. Mildly irritated, maybe. Or just indifferent. It wasn’t like you actually had a date – this was just a little push to get him home. “Why would he be mad?” you asked, genuinely confused.

“Because you’re going on a date.”

You opened your mouth, then closed it, not entirely sure how to respond to that. Before you could press for more, your phone buzzed in your hand.

I’ll be home soon.

You stared at the screen for a second too long, your pulse suddenly a little unsteady.

Jack grinned. “Told you.”

You shook your head, still trying to process what had just happened, but there wasn’t time to dwell on it. Jack was already tugging on your hand, his excitement reigniting now that he knew his dad was on his way.

“We have to hide!” he whispered dramatically, as if Hotch wouldn’t immediately notice the streamers hanging in the kitchen or the faint scent of chocolate in the air.

The second you heard his car pull into the driveway, your pulse kicked up a notch. You reached for the box of matches, fingers moving too quickly to get the candles lit. The first match slipped between your fingers. The second sparked, but in your hurry, the flame kissed the tip of your finger. You sucked in a sharp breath, shaking your hand before finally managing to light them all in time.

Jack giggled beside you, bouncing on his feet, eyes locked on the front door.

You had placed the cake at the centre of the dining table, right beneath the Happy Birthday banner you'd taped up with more hope than confidence, silently praying it wouldn't rip off a chunk of ceiling paint when it came down.

Jack pressed himself flat against the wall, his whole body vibrating with excitement, while you eased the French doors slightly closed, just enough to keep the kitchen hidden from view.

You stole a final glance at the space before stepping back. The decorations were simple, the only real light coming from the candles flickering atop the cake. It wasn't extravagant, but it didn't need to be. It was personal.

Maybe too personal.

A strange feeling curled in your chest, something you didn't have time to analyse before the sound of a key turning in the lock sent a jolt of adrenaline through you.

You barely managed to slip into place beside Jack before the front door swung open, followed by the soft thud of Hotch setting his briefcase down.

He called your name first. Then Jack's.

His footsteps moved toward the kitchen, each one drawing him closer. You could hear his mind working, could almost picture the slight furrow in his brow, the way his head would tilt just slightly as he tried to piece together the silence around him.

It was almost funny – how methodical he was, how effortlessly he slipped into that profiler mindset even in his own home.

Is this what it felt like when he walked into a crime scene? That careful assessment, the quiet tension of waiting for something to reveal itself?

Great, you thought, comparing his surprise birthday party to a crime scene. Solid choice.

You barely had time to scold yourself for it before Jack tugged at your arm.

“Now?”

You nodded squeezing his hand. And just as Hotch stepped into the kitchen, you both jumped out.

“Surprise!”

Hotch stopped short in the doorway, his entire body tensing for a second before his eyes swept over the room. The flickering candlelight, the banner still (miraculously) hanging in place, the two of you standing there. Jack grinning wildly, you trying to gauge his reaction.

His brows lifted slightly, the only outward sign of his surprise, but his face remained unreadable, like his brain hadn't quite caught up yet.

Jack didn't seem to notice. He bounced on his heels, eyes shining. "Did we get you?"

Hotch blinked, exhaling a quiet breath, and something in his expression softened just enough for you to catch it. "Yeah," he admitted. “You got me."

Jack beamed, grabbing his dad's wrist, dragging him further inside. "We made cake!" he announced, gesturing toward the dining table as if presenting an award. "And we got you presents! And you almost ruined the surprise because you were late.”

You bit back a smile, casting a glance at Hotch to see how he'd take that last part.

His lips twitched as he glanced down at Jack. "I had a lot of paperwork, buddy," he said, like that was a perfectly reasonable excuse for nearly missing his own birthday.

“Come on!” Jack tugged at his dad’s hand with both of his own. “You need to make a wish and blow the candles out!”

He let himself be pulled forward, and you instinctively stepped aside, giving them space as he reached the table. He pulled out a chair and sat down, Jack wasting no time as he climbed into his lap, settling in like he belonged there because of course he did.

He glanced up, his eyes landing on you. “This was you?”

You shrugged, a small gracing your lips. "Mostly Jack. I was just the assistant. Ran a few errands, made sure things got done."

Jack beamed, your name tumbling eagerly from his lips as he told his dad just how much you had helped. Hotch didn't respond right away. Instead, his gaze settled on you, his expression giving nothing away, eyes studying you in a way that made your pulse stutter.

You weren't sure if he was annoyed that you'd dragged him away from work or still caught off guard by the whole thing. Maybe a bit of both.

Then after a moment, he looked down at Jack, his hands instinctively settling around him. "Alright, buddy," he murmured, voice softer now. "Are you going to help me with the wish?"

Jack nodded immediately – so eagerly that his eyes were already shut before Hotch had even finished speaking. You couldn’t help but laugh fondly at the sight in front of you.

As soon as the candles were out, Jack clapped his hands together, scrambling off Hotch’s lap. “Presents now!”

You flicked the lights back on just as Jack dumped the two wrapped pieces of pottery into his dad's hands, his excitement making up for the lack of ceremony.

Your fingers found the chain of your necklace, twisting it absently as doubt crept in. Was the plate too much? Not enough? Would a gift card have been better – something impersonal, something safer? Should you have just let him stay at work instead of pulling him home with a lie?

Too late now.

Hotch's hands were already working the paper free from Jack's mug, struggling against the layers of tape. You held your breath as you watched.

When the paper finally gave way, the mug tumbled into his hands. His fingers instinctively curled around it, tracing the uneven ridges and the slightly wobbly letters across the front. Jack launched into an explanation, rattling off how he had painted it himself, why he chose that shade of blue, how the letters had smudged a little but he had tried to fix them.

Hotch listened quietly, his thumb grazing over the lettering as he turned the mug in his hands, absorbing every word.

Then came your gift.

You felt your fingers find the chain of your necklace again as Hotch unwrapped the plate. It matched the mug, but where Jack's strokes were bold and eager, yours were softer, more intentional. Looking at it now, the patterns swirled together in a way you hadn't even planned. Something delicate woven into each brushstroke.

Jack grinned. “Now you have a set! You can drink coffee and eat cake at the same time!”

Hotch chuckled as he turned the plate in his hands, his thumb brushing along the rim like he was taking in the details. He looked at Jack first. Then at you. “It’s perfect. Thank you.”

"Of course," you said softly, letting the necklace drop from your fingers.

Without another word, you turned your attention to cutting the cake, dividing it onto plates for the three of you. Jack, despite his excitement, barely made it through his slice before exhaustion started to settle in. His yawns grew more frequent, his movements slower, until Hotch finally stood to get him ready for bed.

You busied yourself with dishes, rinsing off the remnants of cake and wiped down the counters. It wasn’t until you dried your hands a little too roughly on the tea towel that you felt a sharp sting across your fingertips.

You frowned, glancing down to see the red and irritated skin. Before you could think twice, you lifted your hand, instinctively pressing your fingertips to your lips to soothe the ache.

"You're still here?"

The sound of Hotch's voice startled you. You turned quickly, pulling your hand away as he stepped into the kitchen. Hotch didn't say anything at first. His gaze flickered between your face and your hand.

He took another step forward and you stilled.

"I saw that," he murmured, nodding toward your closed fist.

"It's nothing," you started but before you could finish he reached out, catching your wrist gently.

His thumb brushed over your fingertips, taking no notice of the fact that they were in your mouth just seconds earlier. "Burned yourself?"

You swallowed, resisting the urge to pull away – not because you wanted to, but because standing this close to him, with his fingers wrapped around yours was making it very hard to think straight.

"From the matches, but it’s fine. It’ll go in a few days.”

He didn’t look convinced.

He let go of your wrist and turned toward the cabinet, retrieving a small first aid kit before setting it down on the counter. The sound of the latch clicking open felt louder than it should have in the quiet kitchen.

“You don’t have to do that,” you tried but he ignored you, pulling out a small tube of burn cream like it was second nature.

He nodded toward your hand again. “Let me see.”

You exhaled but didn’t argue as you extended your hand, letting him take it.

He twisted the cap off, squeezing a small amount onto his fingertips before gently pressing them against yours. The cool relief of the cream barely registered beneath the warmth of his touch, the slow, careful way he smoothed it over your skin.

He was taking his time.

Too much time.

"I thought you had a date." His voice was quiet, almost casual, but when he glanced up at you from beneath his lashes, something in your stomach tightened.

You bit down on your lip, suddenly hyperaware of how close he was, of the way his fingers still rested lightly against yours. "There was no date," you admitted.

His eyes didn't leave yours. "No?”

You shook your head.

He hummed in acknowledgment, the sound thoughtful. His line of sight travelled back to your fingers, his touch still slow, even though the cream had already absorbed.

He didn't have to keep doing this. But he did anyway.

His thumb brushed over your skin one last time, light and barely there, before he finally pulled away. He reached for the tea towel, the same one you had used earlier, rubbing his hands over the fabric. Then, casually, too casually –

"Do you do that often?"

Your brows furrowed. "Do what?"

He glanced up, eyes catching yours. "Lie to get what you want."

Your stomach tightened, heat creeping up your neck like a slow tide, rising before you could push it back.

"I-I don't –" The words tumbled out too fast, tripping over themselves. You caught them, swallowed them down, and took a breath in. “I'm sorry if I overstepped. I don't make a habit of lying, but it didn't seem like you were going to be back in time.”

He didn’t respond right away. Just folded the towel in his hands, smoothing out the fabric like it might help him piece together whatever he was thinking.

“Are you angry with me?” you asked, not bearing the thought of disappointing him.

His eyes met yours again before he shook his head. “No.” Then softer, “It would take a lot for me to be angry with you.”

Something inside you eased, a gulp of air finally slipping free. A knot coming undone, a tight grip loosening just enough to feel the space it left behind.

“I understand why you did it,” he continued. “I know how much today meant to Jack.”

You pressed your back lightly against the edge of the sink, needing something solid beneath you. “Good,” you murmured, though the word felt thin. But then, Jack’s voice surfaced in your mind, that innocent certainty, the way he had said it like it was fact.

Dad’s gonna be mad now.

Before you could stop yourself, the question slipped out, unfiltered and reckless. “But would you be mad if I did go on a date?”

Why the hell had you asked that?

Embarrassment prickled under your skin.

Letting an eight-year-old get in your head? Really?

You forced a laugh, shaking your head. “I don’t know why I said that. I –” You cleared your throat, pushing your hair out of your face. “I think I should go.”

You turned, heading for the door, willing the moment to dissolve behind you. Except you didn’t get very far because there was a man in your way. And when you moved to slip past him, his fingers brushed against your dress before catching it, giving it a gentle tug, enough to stop you in your tracks.

“Please,” you mumbled, looking down at the way his fingers curled into the fabric like he wasn’t quite ready to let you go. “This is already awkward enough. Let’s not do this.”

But he still didn’t let go.

“I would only get angry if you went on a date with someone who didn’t treat you right.”

Oh.

That wasn’t the answer you expected. Was it even an answer at all?

Your thoughts stumbled over each other, grasping for clarity where none existed. What was he saying? That he cared? That he didn’t? That it only mattered under certain circumstances?

The warmth of his fingers, still curled into the fabric of your dress, was distracting. So was the fact that he hadn’t let go.

“Don’t look so confused,” he said, his voice quieter now, like he was trying to smooth over something he’d just disrupted. “You take care of Jack. You take care of me – even though that part isn’t in your job description.”

His fingers twitched before he finally released his grasp, the flowy fabric slipping free “It’s only fair that someone does the same for you.”

A perfectly articulated response that was respectful and considerate.

And that was the problem, wasn’t it?

You didn’t just want someone taking care of you.

You wanted him.

You wanted someone who noticed the little things. The way you always set Jack’s favourite cup at the table before breakfast. The way you double-checked that the porch light was on before locking up for the night. The way you carried his damn suit jacket upstairs when he left it draped over a chair because you knew he’d be too tired to do it himself.

You wanted someone who wouldn’t just say you deserve that, but be that.

And maybe that was unfair and highly selfish. Because Aaron Hotchner had spent his whole life taking care of people – his team, his son, his family before all of it had been ripped apart. He wasn’t yours to lean on, to ask for more than what he was already giving.

But God did you wish he was.

That it was his jacket you could pull over your shoulders when you were cold.

That it was his voice checking in, making sure you’d gotten home safe.

That it was his hand on the small of your back, guiding you through a crowded room, keeping you close.

You wished it was him.

And the worst part?

For a split second, when his fingers had curled into your dress, when his voice had dropped into something almost too soft to hear –

You thought maybe he wished it too.

#aaron hotch x reader #nanny!reader x hotch #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner one shot #criminal minds #aaron hotchner #hotch #ssa aaron hotchner #Spotify

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appledressing · 9 days ago

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Aww that was nice of them but he better stop being that stupid mean to her she’ll go find herself a nice boy

The Nanny

Based on the following ask: @itzvenus04I was thinking of like sunshine soft girl reader x cloudy and broody serious Aaron meet as he hires her as Jack nanny because Jack liked her the best and of course Jack thinking his nanny is perfect he tries everything he can to get his dad and nanny together which ends up working and Jack is happy because he has another mommy now, not to replace Haley but to love him like a mom because a kid always needs his mom no matter what age

Aaron Hotchner x Nanny! Fem Reader Fluff Word count: 2185

REQUESTS ARE OPEN - not edited - please be kind. Requests are open and feedback is welcome if it's constructive!

Warnings: My blog is 18+, minors DNI, significant age gap (non-specified, but legal), Sunshine! Reader, Grumpy! Hotch, reader is a nanny, Jack being the ultimate match maker, boss-employee relationship/blurred lines, let me know if I missed anything.

I do not consent to having my work translated or reposted to any other site. That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story.

You had been working for Aaron Hotchner for the last six months. You’d gone out of your comfort zone and signed up for one of those nannying sites, the ones where parents would go on and select your profile…almost like online dating. The only thing is, you were looking for a live-in nanny position, see, you’d just graduated college and had been living on campus and now that you had graduated, you needed a place to stay until you found a permanent residence. You could only stay in your friend’s studio apartment for so long.

Aaron hadn’t been too sure about hiring a nanny, especially a live-in one. Jessica had suggested it, seeing as she’d become increasingly busy helping her dad and taking on additional shifts at the hospital. She told him that it would be good to have someone at the house taking care of Jack, running him to and from school and soccer, someone who’d cook and clean and…the more she described it, the more Aaron thought it would be like hiring a 50’s housewife.

He sat on the idea a while; he hardly thought it would be appropriate for a man of his age to hire some young woman to come into his home and play wife while he was out working all day. He figured the best thing he could do would be to look into one of those sites that match nannies to families based on needs.

That is how he had chosen you and honestly, you couldn’t have been more grateful for that fact. Jack had been the best kid and getting to watch him felt more like hanging out with a child of your own…he’d made you feel so welcomed and it filled you with joy. You’d enjoyed the Hotchner boys, although you didn’t see Aaron all that often, when you did, it always stirred up a fuzzy feeling within you.

Aaron was out of town at least once a week each month, those weeks were hard on Jack, but you’d made sure to fill the time with building Legos, coloring, baking, and soccer practice in the yard. You’d made all of Jack’s favorite meals and read him and extra bedtime story on nights Aaron was out of town. Anything it took to make things easier on him.

Truthfully, you liked the weeks when Aaron was out of town, it made your life a little easier, because despite that fuzzy feeling Aaron gave you…he wasn’t always the sweetest person in the world. He was kind of a grump.

In the six months you’d been working for him, you had learned that Aaron was an FBI agent, more specifically the Behavior Analysis Unit. You knew he was in charge of the team he worked with and that they travelled quite frequently. Jack constantly referred to him as a superhero. You learned that he loves the Beatles and the most important thing in his life is his son.

The other thing you had learned in that time was that he detested you. He’d made an effort to learn as little as possible about you, promptly changing the subject any time you’d said anything, even remotely personal. Little did you know, Jack was sure to fill his dad in on all the wonderful things he’s learned about you.

Jack had formulated a plan; he was going to get you and his dad together. In the short time you’d been working with them he’d been able to see that his dad was happier and less stressed out. His dad had more time to spend with him when you were around. He also loves you; you are sweet, and you take care of him, and it reminds him of his mom. That had made him sad at first, but very quickly, he came to appreciate it.

So, he decided he would help you by giving you insight into his dad’s favorite things. On the other hand, he’d talk you up to his dad in hopes to break his walls down just enough to let you in.

“Alright Jack, your lunch is all packed, can you run and grab your shoes and your backpack?” You asked him.

“Okay! Did you put one of our brownies in there?” He asked, jogging down the hall.

“Of course I did!” You called after him. “Mr. Hotchner, I packed your lunch as well. I was planning on going to the grocery store after I drop Jack off, was there anything in particular you’d like for dinner this week?”

“Whatever works.” He huffed.

“Okay, well I will email over the menu I had in mind then and if there’s anything you don’t like, just let me know.” You offered.

“Will do.” Aaron grabbed his bag and turned away. “Bye buddy, have a great day today.” Aaron pressed a kiss to the top of jacks head before ruffling his hair and heading out to work.

“You ready bud?” You asked.

“Make a pot roast with mashed potatoes.” Jack said.

“What?”

“It’s dad’s favorite.” Jack smiled.

You were putting the finishing touches on dinner while Jack was working on his homework at the kitchen island. You had taken his suggestion and went with a pot roast for dinner, figuring it couldn’t make matters worse.

“Alright bud, go wash your hands and put your homework in your folder.” You requested.

“Okay!” Jack made his way down the hall.

You set the table with three perfect place settings, you’d poured jack a glass of chocolate milk, yourself a small glass of wine, and Aaron his usual scotch. You plated up the food, mashed potatoes, pot roast with carrots, and a small salad. It was moments like this, waiting for Aaron to some home that your mind drifted to thoughts of truly sharing this domesticity with him.

You imagine him walking through the doors, placing his briefcase down, coming up behind you, snaking his arms around your waist as he presses a gentle kiss to your shoulder. Complimenting how good the food smells and asking you about your day. In these little daydreams, he was warm and sweet, not his usual grumpy self.

The door opens and you immediately hear the huff that escapes him. Exhaustion surely seeping in after a long day of work. This is part of why you loved this job, despite his coldness, you enjoyed taking care of the Hotchner boys. It made you happy knowing that he could come home after work and not worry about anything.

“Daddy!” Jack hollered.

“Hey buddy.” Aaron knelt down and lifted Jack into his arms.

“It smells good in here, what’s for dinner?” Aaron asked.

“Well, Jack informed me that pot roast is one of your favorites, so I changed up the menu a bit and made that for dinner. I uh – I hope that’s okay.”

“Oh, that’s – that’s fine.” Aaron let out an awkward cough.

So, the three of you sat and ate dinner. While you ate, Jack rambled on and on about his day and all the things that happened while he was at school. You were desperately trying to attend to the conversation, but you couldn’t help but be distracted…Aaron’s gaze had been lingering on you for the last ten or so minutes.

“Hey jack, why don’t you put your plate in the sink and go get ready for bed huh? I’ll come up in a bit to read a story with you.” Aaron said, his gaze never leaving yours.

Jack nodded his head and followed the directions his dad gave him. All the while Aaron continued to look at you, surely profiling you. You were becoming uneasy, sitting there under his gaze.

“What is it?” You asked.

“Nothing. Thank you, for dinner, it was delicious.” He complimented.

“Oh, um of course! I’m glad you liked it.” You blushed.

It was a rare day that Aaron had off, on these days he likes to let you off the hook. This allows you to shop, go out with friends and get lunch, get your hair and nails done, the whole nine yards. Jack thought that a day out with his dad would be the perfect time to talk about you. They had been talking about how you helped him study for his spelling test this week which led to him getting 100%.

“Hey dad?”

“Yeah buddy?”

“Why do you hate her?”

“What I don’t – I don’t hate her. I just, I ugh…I don’t know bud. I don’t hate her, she’s great.” Aaron stumbled over his words.

“You aren’t very nice to her though. Which is weird because she’s really nice and she makes us both happier, I can tell.” Jack smiled.

“I’m nice to her!” Aaron defended.

“No, you’re not. But you can be! Her birthday is coming up, we should have a party!” Jack suggested.

It was your birthday, you had been thankful it was on a Saturday this year, and Aaron was off which meant he’d likely give you the day off and you could spoil yourself a bit. So, after sleeping in a bit later than usual, you made your way to the kitchen only to be met with the Hotchner boys making pancakes.

“Well good morning!” You greeted.

“Happy birthday!” Jack shouted, wrapping his arms around your neck from his position on the counter.

“Thanks bub! Are you making chocolate chip pancakes? You know those are my favorite.” You teased.

“Yeah! It was dad’s idea to make them.” Jack informed.

“Oh – um thanks.” You were caught by surprise.

“Of course. Happy birthday.”

“Thank you.” You shyly smiled.

The three of you sat and enjoyed breakfast together, it had felt different than usual. Aaron had been different today, happy almost.

“So, I figured, since I’m home today, perhaps you could take the day off?” Aaron suggested. “I do have something to do around 6 though so if you could be back by then?”

“Really? That would be awesome, I really need to get my hair and nails done.” You laughed.

You had texted a few of your friends and met them at the nail salon, getting your fingers and toes done while filling them in on the latest…more specifically Aaron’s new kind side that he’s been showing.

They had told you it was because he likes you, to which you were quick to shut down. They all knew you had a soft spot for the older man, and they were sure he liked you back, especially when he was pushing you away. One of your friends claimed it was because he probably didn’t want to “corrupt” you.

After getting them to finally relent in their teasing, you had suggested lunch. The girls treated the whole day, nails, lunch, hair and lastly a new dress from your favorite boutique.

“You should wear that one home.”

“Why?”

“For Mr. Hotchner…show off your hot self. Maybe get some for your birthday!”

“Oh my gosh, stop! It’s not like that.” You shook your head.

“Girl maybe it could be…just wear the damn dress!”

And so, you did. You changed into the new dress and had your hair perfectly styled and your nails done. You knew Aaron had somewhere to be at 6, but you figured you could at least catch him off guard prior to then.

You parked your car and made your way around to grab your bags, then headed up the two little steps that led into the house. Before fishing your key out of your bag, you paused, inside you could hear Aaron and Jack talking…something about balloons and streamers. You smiled to yourself, quietly letting yourself in.

“Hey guys! What’s all this?”

“You’re early!” Jack said.

You looked around and felt nothing but warmth radiating through you. There were balloons and streamers decorating the living and dining rooms, sat on the table was a birthday cake along with a few gifts. Pizza from your favorite place was sat on the coffee table and the living room had been rearranged so the guestroom mattress was laid out with cozy blankets and pillows, while your favorite movie was queued up on the TV.

“You did all this…for me?” You gasped.

“Yeah! We wanted to show you how much we love you.” Jack said, hugging you.

“You do?” Your gaze met Aaron’s.

“Yeah, we do.” He said.

That night the three of you ate pizza and laid on the mattress in the living room, watching movies. Before it got too late the boys made sure you had cake and opened your gifts, Jack had picked out a paint set for you, knowing you enjoyed watercolors. Aaron, well, he’d gotten you a first edition of your favorite novel. You’d been rendered speechless.

The three of you made your way back to the living room and laid down to watch a final film. Jack had been snuggled up to you, quickly falling asleep, and you fell not long after. Aaron smiled at the sight of you two, it had gotten him thinking that having you around may not be so bad after all.

Taglist: @bernelflo@pastelpinkflowerlife@just-moondust @khxna

#aaron hotchner x reader #nanny!reader #aaron hotchner oneshot #jack hotchner you will always be famous!!!#a: juniperskye

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ssahotchnerr · 5 months ago

Note

begging for nanny!reader x hotch

aka aaron discovers reader is going on a date, our man gets a bit mean and jealous, things get a bit steamy and it ends with him begging reader not to go🙈🙈

right now

🤭 cw; fem nanny!reader, jealous and some possessive!aaron 😵‍💫, slight bratty reader?, heavy suggestion - minors dni wc; 1.2k

"Homework is done. Soccer bag is packed for tomorrow, but uniform is finishing up in the dryer now." You relayed everything on your internal to-do list, mentally checking off each box. "Oh, he has a permission slip for a class trip in his folder that needs signing. I reminded Jack to remind you, but just so you're aware, too. He's eating at his friend's, so you don't have to worry about dinner."

Aaron nodded along to your instructions. You looked throughout the kitchen, as if something would pounce out and remind you of something you'd potentially forgotten.

When nothing availed, "Okay, that should cover it."

"You're amazing, per usual." Aaron complimented, exhaling an at-eased breath. He glanced around the clean apartment, before discreetly admiring you. "I can't tell you how nice it is knowing things are taken care of here. I'm able to come home and breathe. Jack adores you. Seriously, what would we do without you?"

You blushed at his praise, warmth sweeping through you. "Happy to help."

"How was he today?" He asked, swiftly grabbing the mail from the table, beginning to poke through it.

"Perfect. Per usual." You shared, tossing Aaron a grin. Jack made your job tremendously easy - he was cooperative, kind mannered, overall the sweetest kid. "Although, I did have to remind him to stop leaving his shoes in the middle of the entryway." You added jokingly, as if it could be an inconvenience.

Aaron chuckled. His eyes squinted humorously as he quipped in return, "I'll have a chat with him."

Your smile lingered, fading away gradually as you began packing yourself up. "And thanks for relieving me early. I know how busy you are, so I really do appreciate it."

Nervousness pumped through your veins at the thought of your evening plans. You've been in the Hotchners' lives for a few months now, so casually discussing your plans should've come naturally, easily, but it didn't. Not with all things considered.

"No problem, happy to accommodate. You deserve to relax too." His eyebrows furrowed, tossing aside unimportant, junk mail. "If you don't mind me asking, what're you up to tonight?"

"I, um," Your gaze dropped, grabbing ahold of your bag. Your cheeks flushed, suddenly feeling very guilty. You took your time answering, "I have a date, actually."

He stopped stifling through the mail at once, his gaze lifting. "A date?"

"Yeah." You continued to pack up, throwing your bag over your shoulder and avoiding his eyes altogether. "A date."

"With who?" Aaron's words were harsher than he anticipated, causing you to freeze this time. He didn't like the concept of you seeing someone, not a bit.

Your eyes finally met his - his hardened stare. The expression awakened something in you, and you reciprocated back, your words equally as blunt. "Nobody you know."

You've never witnessed Aaron like this, and likewise, it brought something out in you as well; a newfound attitude. You wanted to disobey, solely to see how he reacted. He clearly wasn't happy, and you were entranced to find out more; curious as to what he would do, and hoping it was what you had in mind.

Aaron stood there rigidly, silently seething. The atmosphere had changed completely. No longer was it a light, witty one - but filled with the utmost tension.

"Well, thanks again-" Your hand found the doorknob, pulling the door open a few inches. You didn't make it far; Aaron's hand found the door above your head, pushing it shut.

"What's he like?"

You always caught whiffs of Aaron's cologne all throughout the apartment, whether he was in the residence or not. It was spicy, yet subtly sweet; suitable for him.

But now with his close proximity, mumbling into your ear, it was dizzying. You couldn't think straight even if you tried. You turned, coming face to face with his chest. His button-up was stretched tight against his torso, adding to the illusion of the strong muscle he possessed underneath. His arm had also stayed put, to the right of your temple.

You were caged in, and not complaining.

It had a notable effect it had on you. You wanted to be all consumed by him; you needed him to take charge, and you'd willingly allow it.

Your back met the door, as well as your head as you gazed up at him. You were lost with words, your heart thumping wildly in your chest, restricting any normal breathing.

"What's he like?" He repeated, urging you to answer. While his voice remained taut, it was joined by a condensing tone. As if he knew better. Knew you better, and you weren't the one to object.

Needless to say, he was enjoying this: making you noticeably squirm, and the fact it didn't take much to do so.

Your breath hitched, going fuzzy at the edges. "I don't know. A friend set us up."

"I think you should cancel it."

"Excuse me?'

"By all means, you can go. Only," His eyes flicked up and down your body, slotting a thigh between your legs. "What you're exhibiting tells me you'd rather not."

You resisted the urge to grind down on his leg, attempting to remain as neutral as possible. "Are you profiling me?"

"Maybe." Aaron smirked softly. His eyes were dark, a deep contrast to the glow you had witnessed earlier. "Maybe I have been for a while."

"Okay." You challenged him, forcing yourself to speak up. With an arch of your eyebrow, "What have you noticed?"

A delightful little laugh escaped him. As stern as he was portraying, there was still a gentleness to him. "You want me to touch you right now."

"What?" You squeaked out. He wasn't wrong.

"Don't interrupt. Let me finish." He leaned in closer, his hands itching to make contact with your waist - to firmly hold you - to dig his fingertips just enough into your hips to leave marks. "I see the way you look at me. I always have. Similar to now, only your pupils are dilated. Your breath has picked up so dramatically, it's almost amusing."

You remained silent, holding your gaze, while he continued.

"This is the closest we've ever been to each other, and by no means are you trying to move away. You have the space to." He relaxed his stance, to emphasize his point. "You're in no hurry."

You bit your lip, resisting the urge to squirm. You were getting worked up, arousal pooling in you - it didn't help with your need for friction.

"I haven't done anything yet, and just look at you."

A soft whimper left you as you forced your posture to straighten, slowly perching up on your tiptoes. Your lip ached to meet his. The gap between the two of you was maddening; you needed him on you, you on him, you didn't care. As long as the contact was there.

"Do you want me to? I need a yes, sweetheart." He inched closer, his lips dangerously close, centimeters apart.

And with that, you succumbed to him completely, scrambling to throw your arms over his neck and pulling his body to yours.

"Yes."

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x you #criminal minds drabble #aaron hotchner drabble #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fanfiction #hotch imagine #criminal minds x fem!reader #aaron hotchner smut #criminal minds smut

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cimmanonrowl · 6 months ago

Text

Eat Your Young pt.2

Part One | Masterlist

Coming down from the high that Aaron introduced you to feels impossible at this point. Following your very first encounter after his arrival, there isn't a day that he didn't make you feel desired and pleasured. And what better way to have him sated than letting him fuck you senseless out of pure unadulterated jealousy?

Pairing: aaron hotchner x nanny!reader

Theme: smut heaven

Contents: age gap, oral fixation, oral (f) receiving, masturbation, cum play, overstimulation, squirting, breeding kink, daddy & sir kink, unprotected, rough sex, angry sex, jealous!aaron, size difference, belly bulging, dirty talk, powerplay: boss/employee dynamic, pure filth, pussy-eater, bearded aaron.

You weren’t sure what was waiting ahead when you accepted the job.

For one, it was a blessing, given your old employers were moving out of state and you couldn’t go with them. They wanted to bring you, of course. They wanted you to come with them but you had to decline as you have plans of your own after you finish your studies. It was a hard decision to make. You were with the family for almost three years, they helped you through University so you don’t drown in student loans and debt, and the kids loved you as much as you loved them. Even without telling you, you could tell their parents felt bad you’re losing your only financial support at the moment.

That was when Jessica was sent to you like an angel in disguise.

She was an acquaintance; a close friend to your employers, so in a way you knew the woman and some bits of her life. You knew that she was taking care of her nephew, although occasionally; a young kid named Jack. You knew that she loved looking after him but her new promotion at work demanded more and more of her time, so she and her brother-in-law had to look for extra help. Apparently, Jack’s father was a very busy man, as you were told.

And that was when you became part of the Hotchners.

For them, you were heaven-sent.

“I’m fine, Jess…” you mumbled over the phone as you read the street sign quietly. You were almost there, almost, heaving a little as you dragged your suitcase behind you. “Of course, I’m nervous… you know how it is. I’m not very good with…”

“Kids?” you heard her breathy laughter at the other line, more teasing than incredulous.

You chuckled in return, shaking your head. “Fathers, actually. It’s different talking to women and knowing how exactly they want things to be done. Fathers aren’t like that. They expect— they just expect you to figure out everything.”

“Aaron isn’t like that,” she assured you, her voice kind. “You’ll see. He knows how he likes things and will tell you so. He’s a good man.”

Your heart hammered against your chest. He knows how he likes things. And he will tell you so. That’s supposed to be an assurance, right? So, why on Earth were you blushing?

Must be because of those damn pictures, a voice in your head whispered. Last night– maybe it was the nerves, or your plain curiosity after hearing many stories about the man that you let yourself get swayed by temptation. You were not one to research about your employers. A brief personal background was always provided by the agency to ensure that employees like you will be in safe hands, and it has always been enough. But last night, for some reason, you felt the need to know him.

In the past week you were negotiating with Jessica, you never met Mr. Hotchner. You thought it was weird and so reckless of him. He’s a federal agent. You expected him to be paranoid, careful at a fault. Why wouldn’t he insist on meeting firsthand the stranger who will take care of his son? The one he’ll let inside his home? It seemed like he didn’t care at all. All you knew was he was out on a case and wouldn’t be home at least for a couple more days. You don’t even know what this man looks like.

You met his son three days ago, though, and you already love the kid. Jack was a little shy at first, soft-spoken, but cheeky as he was polite. You wondered since then if he got that from his father. But you thought it was unlikely when you started digging information from the internet.

“So serious…” you whispered as you plucked the cherry from the stem, chewing slowly as you continued scrolling through the available pictures of him on the web.

There were YouTube links that also popped out when you typed in his name. You knew he’s some kind of bigshot fed but it still shocked you when you realized Mr. Hotchner had to stand in front of the camera and make public announcements on the news. It was impossible not to notice that face. But the least you could say is he looks good. Then you had to stop yourself there and divert your attention to the flaws you could pinpoint.

He looks strict and scary. In every video you opened, there was a tight frown on his face. It looks like he barely smiles or doesn’t know how to, and that he’s always constipated. What a poor man. You could already imagine your days in their household getting shouted at for being clumsy.

“You’re here! Dad, she’s here! Dad! She’s here!” the familiar voice of a young boy cut through your thoughts.

You stood still outside the closed gate of your new residence, peering over where a kid was running toward your direction, and an older man distractedly dribbling a basketball in a mini court. He was topless and sweaty. His arms strong, his muscles taut. And even from a distance, you could tell that he was watching you, too.

Then your eyes met and he smiled, warm and so kind.

At that moment you knew that this wouldn’t be bad after all.

You glanced at the clock on the wall. It’s late— later than you realized and Aaron still wasn’t home after a long day in the office. You’ve learned not to worry too much as you’ve grown accustomed to his late nights. He always comes home to you and Jack. But every night, there was a part of you that couldn’t fully relax until you heard the sound of his key in the door.

The clock just struck half past 10 o’clock. Most of the lights were already dimmed and the house was filled with silence. Jack had just gone to bed. These past few days, you realized how things changed. It took you almost an hour to convince him to get off his iPad and stop the game he was playing with his friends, and another hour before he fell asleep reading you his book of choice for this week. Which explains why you’re still up at this hour.

The soft hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen was the only sound that accompanied you as you moved through the living room, gathering up Jack’s scattered Lego blocks and soldier figurines. It was all over the place. You told him countless times to clean up his mess before eating dinner, but he just shrugged you off and told you he’d clean it up later. Hours passed by and he seemed to forget about his promise as he was already engrossed with the weird game he was playing on his iPad.

Jack was growing fast. And as much as the thought put an ache in your heart, you knew this was also inevitable.

But the thing is, you have no idea how you should deal with these changes. You didn’t dare scold him, no– considering your growing relationship with his father. You didn’t want him to think that you were crossing the line of acting like his mother, or a replacement for her. So, you thought it was better you wait for Aaron to come home and bring up this issue instead.

Another deep sigh escaped your lips as you bent down to pick up another handful of Lego blocks. You’re ready to go to bed, already clad in your satin nightgown, a pale pink that clings to your curves; feeling soft and smooth against your skin. The thin straps would occasionally slip off your shoulders as you reach for more toys, and the hem would brush against your thighs as you move.

“Didn’t think you’d still be up…”

You froze at the voice, still bent over, before straightening up and turning toward the entryway just as Aaron stepped inside.

His presence filled the space immediately. He’s still in his work clothes— a dark suit that looks a little rumpled from the long day, his tie loosened and his shirt collar open. His hair was slightly disheveled, and you noticed the tiredness in his eyes that he tried to hide as he closed the door behind.

For a moment, his eyes lingered on you, taking in the way the satin nightgown hugged your body, the fabric clinging to the curve of your hips, the way the hem fluttered around your thighs. There was a brief flicker of something in his gaze, appreciative, and scandalously lustful. You saw the slight tug at the corner of his lips behind his thick beard.

“Hi, gorgeous,” he greeted.

Your heart did that familiar, annoying little skip when he languidly crossed the room and caged you in his arms. He sighed deeply, kissed your forehead then your lips, before resting his cheeks at the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent.

“Rough day, Mr. Hotchner?” you wanted to tease him, but with his hot breath fanning over your neck, the coarse hair of his beard against your skin, your words came out breathless.

You heard him groan, his voice low and a little rough when he said, “You have no idea, baby. Why are you still up, anyway? Did Jack gave you a hard time?”

“He’s just growing, Aaron. That’s how it is.”

“So he did?” he concluded, “I’ll talk to him, baby. There’s just too much going on at work.”

You hummed and nodded, running your fingers through his hair, understanding and supporting him without needing any details. You’ve never pressed him for specifics about his work and you know that Aaron was carrying enough weight on his shoulders without you adding to it. But even so, there was something in his tone and the exhaustion in his face that made you hug him tighter.

“You’re home now,” you said softly, massaging his scalp, “You should sit down for a bit. I can make you something to eat if you’re hungry.”

Just then, you felt his teeth dug gently on the skin of your neck. “How about I eat you instead?”

“Aaron…” you couldn’t help but giggle, ignoring the flutter of nerves in your stomach.

“Hmm?”

“Not here.”

He let out a soft grunt. “You smell heavenly, baby. I want to fuck you.”

His voice was raspy, gruff from all the grueling hours he spent in the office. You squirmed and chuckled quietly as you felt his lips trailing wet kisses on your neck, the soft curve of your shoulders, and even your jaw. His thick beard tickling you with every little movement.

You let out a sigh, clamping your thighs as you felt the heat dampening your cotton underwear. “Not here, Aaron. I’ll finish- I’ll clean up this mess first.”

He didn’t seem to hear you. The rough pad of his calloused palm roamed and caressed every inch of your clothed body. His hands moved to the curve of your ass, the swell of your breast, kneading your tits roughly on his hands while rolling your now sensitive nipples in between his thick fingers.

“I missed you so much, angel…” he said in a whisper, “I can’t get enough of your little pussy. You make me so hard, feel that?”

He guided your hand to the obvious bulge in his pants. Although that idea thrilled you, your fingers trembled in embarrassment and anticipation. You glanced up at him with wide, innocent eyes, your breath caught in your throat, while he hissed as you softly cupped and pressed your palm on his restrained cock, moving your hand experimentally in circles.

“Fuck,” he grunted your name, you even saw a muscle twitch on his tight jaw. “Saw you innocently bent over when I stepped into that door. It’s almost like you’re begging someone to ruin your tight cunt, is that right, angel?”

His hand found the dampness in between your legs, already pressing his thumb on your aching clit, yet it was the crudeness of his words that made you whimper. “S-sir…”

“Use your big words, sweet girl.”

“Not s-someone, sir…” you admitted. “Just you. W-want you to use me.”

A satisfied smile played on his lips.

“I know, baby. Want me to fuck you with my big cock, don’t you? Always fucking ready to spread your legs for me, is that right?”

You nodded dumbly, blinking up at him.

“Are you a whore?”

“N-no...” you said unsurely, “No, daddy. Not a w-whore.”

The dark look in his eyes brought you back to the memories of earlier in the morning. He gave you a small smile. “You’re daddy’s baby, I know, little girl.”

Like he always does, Aaron woke you up earlier with his face buried between your legs. He was lapping your dripping cunt like a madman, licking and sucking with his expert mouth. Two of his thick fingers were pushed deep inside you, making a lewd squelching sound as he nudged the sweet bundle of nerves inside. Your legs were trembling uncontrollably all you could do was moan and tug on Aaron’s hair. When he looked up to see your face, his beard was wet and a string of saliva was hanging from his lips and to your puffy folds.

You already came twice today. One from his mouth, as promised. And one from his big, leaking cock. He had your legs wide open, his hand pressed on the back of your thighs until you were folded almost in half, and rammed his big cock in and out of your weeping cunt with vigor. His eyes were focused on where you were both connected, watching in awe how you willingly swallow his thick cock in your body. He enjoyed watching the bulge appear in your stomach with every deep thrust.

He called you sweet names as he came inside you, flooding your womb with his warm cum. It took him all the self-control (and a message from Morgan) not to bend you again over the sink as he watched you walk to the bathroom, his release slowly dripping down your legs. And he wished you only knew how he wanted to push it back inside and keep his cock buried in your raw cunt for the rest of the day.

- - - - - - - ⋆ ★

The Saturday sun beamed over the soccer field where kids are darting back and forth in a burst of energy. The sidelines were lined with parents and family members, all chatting and watching the game with varying degrees of attention. You were standing among them, your eyes following Jack as he weaved between the other kids, his face bright with determination. Every now and then, his laughter carries across the field, and you couldn’t help but smile as well.

Aaron was beside you, his arms crossed as he watched Jack with that focused intensity he always seemed to have when it comes to his son. You could tell that as much as they were both competitive, he was worried that some accidents may happen.

“I’m going to check in with Jack for a minute,” Aaron informed you as he let go of your intertwined hand, nodding toward the bench where Jack was sitting during a break. “Be right back.”

You nodded and watched in silence as Aaron strode across the field toward Jack, the sun catching in his dark hair. You took a deep breath, relaxing a little now that you were alone for a moment. It feels good to be outside, to be with Aaron, but you hate the weird glances some mothers were throwing at you. As if you were doing something illegal.

Just as you were about to take a seat on one of the folding chairs, a familiar man approached you from the side, his expression friendly. You recognized him as one of the other parents and father of one of Jack’s friends at school, though you don’t recall his name right away. He was tall, with sandy blond hair and a warm, easygoing smile.

“Hey there,” he said with a chuckle, gesturing toward the field. “Quite a game, huh?”

You smiled back, letting out a small laugh. “Tell me about it. My bones could never. I’m exhausted just watching them.”

The man laughed, then glanced over at the field before turning his attention back to you. “I’m Tom, by the way,” he said, offering his hand. “I’ve seen you around a few times… and my son told me last night he and Jack partnered for the bake sale activity at school.”

You shook his hand. “I think I recall Jack telling me about that bake sale. Is Jake your son?”

“Yes, that’s the one,” Tom replied, nodding fast and chuckling. “I thought you’d think I’m just making up excuses to come up to a pretty woman and start chatting with her—”

“Pretty woman?” you smiled at the compliment, glancing up at him.

“Well, yeah. Anyway…” Tom grinned shyly, clearly pleased. “Yeah, my son was crazy about beating the other boys or something like that. Tell you honestly, I have no idea what to bring. I’m useless in the kitchen, but I don’t want to be that guy who just shows up with store-bought stuff, you know?”

You laughed softly, nodding in understanding. “I do get it. But it’s a good thing they can choose a partner. If you want, I could help you out. I make a pretty mean batch of cookies.”

Tom’s face lit up with genuine gratitude. “Really? That would be amazing. I mean, only if you have time to accommodate— I don’t want to impose.”

“Oh, it’s no trouble at all,” you waved off his concern. “I like baking, plus I can invite Jake to come over so I have another little assistant.”

“Or me?” The man teased. “Just kidding. That would be incredible. You just saved me from embarrassment. The old ladies at school… they’re very, you know.”

The sound of your laughter tangled in the air. But as the laughter fades, you felt a subtle shift in the air. You unconsciously wandered your eyes around and realized Aaron was standing just a few feet away, his eyes trained on you and Tom, his expression intense. His strong arms were crossed, and there was a tightness in his jaw that wasn’t there before.

“Hey,” you greeted, offering Aaron a small smile as he stepped closer. “Everything okay with Jack?”

Aaron nodded, though his eyes briefly flickered over to Tom, taking in the easy conversation you’ve been having. “He’s fine,” Aaron replied, his voice calm but with an undercurrent of something sharper, something controlled. “Just needed a little pep talk.”

Tom, the poor man oblivious to the tension, smiled at Aaron and offered his hand. “Hi, I’m Tom. We were just talking about the kids’ upcoming school bake sale.”

Aaron shook his hand, but there was a slight stiffness to the gesture. “Aaron Hotchner. Jack’s father.”

Tom nodded, then focused back on you. “Thanks again for the offer. If it’s alright, I was thinking— maybe I should grab your number? You know, just so we can coordinate for the bake sale and all that. Would make it easier to figure out what to bring.”

He was just being friendly and practical, that’s what you know. But the suggestion lingered in the air awkwardly. You could feel Aaron tense beside you, the shift in his posture subtle but unmistakable. With hesitation, you glanced at Aaron out of the corner of your eye. His expression has hardened, his jaw clenched just enough to be noticeable, and there was a flash of something dangerous in his eyes—something possessive, territorial even.

“I don’t think that’s necessary,” Aaron stepped in, his voice low and edged with barely restrained anger. “If you need anything, you can go through me.”

Tom blinked, clearly caught off guard. He forced out a chuckle, trying to brush off the tension with a good-natured grin. “I didn’t mean anything by it, man. Just thought it’d be easier—”

“You don’t need her number for that.”

You swallowed hard, feeling everyone’s attention on the growing commotion. Aaron’s eyes were still fixed on Tom, his stance rigid, his body language screaming of a barely controlled fury. This wasn’t just about the number.

Tom raised his hands slightly, clearly trying to defuse the situation. “Hey, no problem,” he said, though there was a hint of confusion in his eyes as he glanced between you and Aaron. “Didn’t mean to step on any toes.”

You forced a tight smile, trying to lighten the mood. “Thanks, Tom. Maybe we can let the kids decide and start there.”

Tom nodded again. “Yeah, sure. I’ll catch you both around.” He gave a quick wave before turning and walking back toward the crowd of parents, his pace a bit quicker than before.

As soon as Tom was out of earshot, the silence between you and Aaron felt heavy. You could feel the heat of Aaron’s anger, his jaw still clenched as he silently watched Tom disappear into the distance.

You glanced up at Aaron, raising an eyebrow in confusion. “What was that about?”

“What?” Aaron finally tore his gaze away from Tom, turning to face you. There was a storm in his eyes, it made your breath catch. “I didn’t like the way he was looking at you,” he admitted, his voice rougher than before. Then he mumbled, “Or him having your number. Why would he have your fucking number for? Bake sale and all that, that fucking idiot.”

You grimaced at his admission, of how easily he admitted what he felt. You’ve never seen Aaron like this before— so openly protective, so possessive— and it stirred something deep inside you that was too intense to put a name on.

You swallowed hard, trying to keep your voice steady. “He was just being friendly, Aaron. It was harmless.”

“Maybe to you,” His voice was still tensed as he retorted. “But I didn’t trust him. And I don’t like the idea of other men thinking they can just… move in like that.”

You bit back a smile, a little amused by his jealousy.

“We were talking about bake sales, not making any plans to run off together,” you nudged his arm with your elbow teasingly.

Aaron took a deep breath, exhaling slowly as he stared down at you. “Oh, so you can joke. Do you think this is funny?”

“What? Of course no–”

“Jack will be out on a sleepover,” he leaned closer to your ear just to whisper, “We’ll fucking talk later, hm? Save your explanations ‘cause I’ll fuck you like a whore.”

Your breath staggered as you pressed your lips shut. You knew by then that it was going to be a long, long night.

- - - - - - - ⋆ ★

The door slammed against the wall with a loud bang as you and Aaron stumbled inside, your bodies pressed tightly together. His big, calloused hands were on your waist, pulling you closer to him, his fingers digging into your skin as your mouths crashed together in a rough, desperate kiss.

Everything felt hazy, like you were moving through a dream, but there was nothing gentle about the way you were kissing him, or the way his hands were gripping you. It felt like he couldn’t get close enough. It was frantic, dirty, almost reckless, as if both of you were on the verge of losing control and neither of you cared.

You barely noticed the door swing shut behind you as Aaron pushed you roughly up against the wall, his mouth never leaving yours, his breath hot and uneven as he kissed you like it was the only thing keeping him alive. The force of the impact sent a shockwave through your body, but the only thing you could focus on was him— his scent, his warmth, the feeling of his lips on yours, the way his strong body felt pressed up against you.

“Aaron…” you managed to gasp out between kisses, your voice breathless. You could barely think, your mind clouded with desire, but his name slipped from your lips like a plea, a litany. “D-daddy... slow- slow... down...”

His hands were everywhere— on your waist, your hips, sliding down to the curve of your thighs as he gripped you tightly, pressing his bulge against your needy cunt. You gasped into his mouth, the sound swallowed by another fierce kiss as his body pinned you harder against the wall, pressing you there as if you might disappear if he let go.

“I’m s-sorry… D-daddy, please…”

“Please what?” he groaned against your mouth, his lips trailing down to your jaw, then to your neck, the coarse hair on his chin scraping against your skin as he kissed a heated path down your throat. “Now you’re sorry? Bet you fucking liked the attention earlier. Thought you aren’t a whore?”

“No. I’m sorry, daddy. I’m sorry. I’m not—”

His rough hands slid up your sides, gripping the hem of your shirt and yanking it up and over your head with a quick, impatient movement. The cool air hit your skin, but it was immediately replaced by the warmth of his touch as his hands moved over your bare skin, his fingers digging into your flesh like he wanted his mark so deeply ingrained in your skin and your whole being.

“Feels like you’re forgetting who you belong to.”

You shook you head, moaning as you felt his hand travel closer to your heat. “No, no. I belong to you, sir. Only you. I’m so sorry, daddy.”

“Are you?” he barked a taunting laugh. “And why do you belong to me then, little girl? Why does this pussy belong to me?”

“Because… b-because you take care of m-me, daddy.”

“I fucking do, don’t I?” he remarked, tracing soft circles on your clit through the rough fabric of your jeans. “And I’m so fucking good to you. So why are you fucking ungrateful, angel? Batting your eyelashes and giggling with other men like a cheap whore on the streets?”

You felt like crying. Tears welled at the corner of your eyes, your heart hammering painfully against your chest. You messed up and now he’s mad. But you don’t like the words coming out of his mouth. You only want to be daddy’s good girl.

“I’m s-sorry, sir. Won’t happen again, I-I promise.”

“No, baby. I bet you it won’t,” he pulled back for a second, his eyes dark and filled with something primal, his chest rising and falling with the force of his ragged breaths. “I’ll fuck you until your little belly’s round with my cum and you’re pregnant with my child. I’ll knock you up so every man will know whose cock split your tight cunt open. You like that, little girl? You want to be a good whore for daddy?”

You nodded and grabbed the back of his neck, pulled him back down to you, crashing your lips together again as the two of you stumbled further into the room, barely able to focus on anything but each other. Your legs hit the edge of the couch, and before you know it, Aaron was already manspreading in front of you, while you knelt in front of him, your hands laid on your lap.

“Atta girl, look at you,” you keened at the praise, biting on your lower lip as you waited patiently for him to remove his shirt and finish unbuckling his belt.

“Can- can I suck your cock, s-sir?” you said weakly. “Please?”

Aaron hissed as his cock sprang free, slapping the base of his soft stomach. His cock was already hard and leaking, the tip shiny with beads of precum. Your mouth watered at the sight. But still, you waited for his permission, glancing up at him innocently, patiently.

He leaned on the couch and pumped his length slowly, an amused smirk on his lips. “Remove your pants.”

You whimpered and did what he told you. That wasn’t the permission you were waiting for but still you obliged eagerly. Your eyes focused on his hand slowly fisting his hardening cock before glancing up and meeting his eyes. Aaron let out a deep breath as he took in your naked body, your tits, your now swollen lips, and even your thighs that you were subtly rubbing to create some friction.

“Play with your tits, baby,” he said gruffly, “Put on a show for me like a good girl. Go on.”

There was something possessive in his gaze, a wildness that you’d never seen in him before, but it sent a thrill directly through your wet core. You played with your tits, kneaded the soft mound, and pinched your nipples making you whimper pathetically.

Aaron pumped his cock a little faster, his hungry eyes following your movements. “Spread your legs, want to see that pussy of yours.”

It felt humiliating, to scamper on your knees to follow his orders. But still you did. Because the moment you opened your legs for him, Aaron let out a loud growl and gripped his cock tightly on his fist, as if he was trying not to cum just by the sight of your wet cunt. You felt happy with his reaction.

With trembling fingers, you opened your puffy folds to show him how much you desired to be fucked, your clit swollen, your cunt desperately fluttering and clenching on nothing.

“Is that all for me?”

You nodded, your body tingling with pleasure and pride.

“D-daddy…” you sounded meek, all up for the taking. “Want you, p-please. Sir, please? Please?”

You can feel the heat radiating off him, the way his chest rises and falls with each ragged breath as he thumbed the leaking tip of his big and veiny cock. In a swift movement, he grabbed the back of your neck and kissed you harder, deeper, his tongue sliding against yours in a way that made you sigh in relief.

“Ride my cock then. Show me how much you want it.”

There was hunger in him that matched your own. The sound of your highpitched whining and Aaron’s deep grunt weaved through the air. You sank down his big cock, your cunt clenching to accommodate his girth. Aaron was so big you don’t think it’s possible to get used to it, the burn of the stretch was there, but it was heady and intoxicating.

“Aaron,” you whispered again, your voice trembling with need as your fingers dug into his shoulders, urging him closer, needing more, needing him. The intensity was overwhelming, but you can’t stop—you don’t want to stop. “D-daddy, help. Help, please.”

“Pathetic,” he growled against your lips. With one sharp thrust, he plunged the rest of his cock into your raw cunt.

“T-thank you, sir…” you mewled at the feeling, grounding your hips in slow circles. “Good- feels g-good…”

His lips trailed back down your neck, your collarbone, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. His beard scratched your skin. Every touch, every kiss, feels like fire, igniting something primal deep inside of you that you hadn’t even realized was there.

“Does it, angel? Who’s making you feel good right now?”

You arched your back, pressing into him. “Y-you, sir. J-just you...”

A harsh slap landed at the side of your thigh.

“Louder!”

“You, d-daddy! Only y-you. OH MY GOD, AARON!” you screamed, hiding your flushed cheeks at the crook of his neck as Aaron plowed his cock so deep into your frail body. “You’re making me feel g-good. You fuck me so well, daddy! I love your cock, you own me, you ow-”

You heard a low growl reverberate through his heaving chest. He propped his knees at the edge of the couch for better leverage. You felt his cock pulsating deep inside you, his thighs strong beneath your trembling legs. Your vision was blurry with unshed tears and the force of Aaron’s cock ramming inside you. The noise leaving his open lips was dirty, primal, so filthy all you could do was take it.

You let him ruin you.

Let him use you to his heart content.

Like that’s all you’re worth for.

“I’ll fuck my baby inside of you, little girl, ‘s that what you want?” he panted beneath you, his hips staggering a little. “I’ll make you all round and pretty. Everyone will know whose whore you a-are…”

Yes, yes, yes. You couldn’t bring yourself to say. You just whimpered, your voice raw and absolutely fucked out. You just let yourself feel how his cock assaulted your tight, little cunt. There was a familiar coil in your stomach, and then the familiar squelching sound.

“I-I’m s-” you squealed loudly, high-pitched and frantic. “I-I’m coming, ‘m c-coming, daddy, ple-”

Aaron grunted and plunged his cock on a particularly deep thrust, feeling the tip nestle at the sweet bundle of sensitive nerves that made you roll your eyes. You felt Aaron’s cock slide out of your used pussy, a gush of clear release dampening Aaron’s belly and the floor below.

“F-fuck! Look at that…”

“Oh- oh my go-” you bit your lower lip in overstimulation, yet you didn’t do anything to protest when he thrust his thick cock inside again. “Too much… t-too much, sen-sensitive. D-daddy! P-please, no more!”

His cock slid out the second time you squirted. Another gush of release dampened the carpet below. The force was too overwhelming your knees buckled, your legs trembling uncontrollably. You heard Aaron’s pleasured grunt as you clenched even tighter around his cock, your velvety walls hugging his girth like it was molded to be there.

“S-stop, d-daddy! S-stop…”

He scarcely heard you. You could feel every inch of him, the way his body moves against yours, the heat of his skin, the sweat, the strength in his hands as they explore every part of you. He groped you like you were nothing but a fucktoy— one that he will discard the moment he finally got his release.

“See this, little girl?” he grabbed your neck and forced you to look at your belly. You whined at the faint sight of his cock bulging against your skin. “That’s h-how deep I am, you feel that? That’s how well you take me. G-good girl, baby.”

You nodded. “S-so deep, d-daddy. You make me feel s-so good…”

“I’m so close…” you heard him whisper.

You traced the lines of his muscles, feeling the tension beneath his skin as his breath hitched against your neck. With the rest of your energy left, you lifted yourself and met his desperate thrust. The sound was lewd, disgusting– so wet and filthy.

The world outside disappeared—there was no sound, no movement, no thoughts. Just Aaron. Just him and his big, girthy cock, and his desperate thrust. Beyond the heat of his body against yours, the endless ropes of warm cum flooded your fertile womb. You only closed your eyes and let him take you. Take everything he wants from you.

“It’s coming out of your pretty cunt, baby. Look, you’re so full of my cum…” Aaron said in awe a moment later. He got you lying on your back on the couch, your legs wide open, while he knelt in front of you. He prodded your puffy folds with wide, hungry eyes. “Fuck, you’re so messy, angel.”

He licked the cum that dripped out of you. Your cunt felt raw and sore. Too used. So you whimpered as a protest. You’re too sensitive. Too sated. Too much. Too much. Too much–

Aaron smiled smugly when he saw the drunk look on your face.

“Give me one more, angel?”

Happy 600-something, everyone! I know this is long overdue but it's better late than later, right? Anyway, hope everyone's well and healthy (I'm sick right now so don't be like me!) Drink a lot of water and eat well. As always, I appreciate every like, replies, reblogs- everything. Thank you so much for the support. I love you all. See you on the next ones! xx

Tag list: @downbad4reid, @roseydoesypoesy, @pastelpinkflowerlife, @justyourusualash, @hotchsmutrecs, @msfreedom, @birdysaturne, @gghostwriter, @mrs-ssa-hotch, @fore45fore, @actualdeemon, @diksy1112, @jethro-mcgee-tony, @hotchnerbau, @iniyalovesall, @222hwilsss, @balariie, @oliviabbb, @ncis0mrs0gibbs, @jasonswhitetuftofhair, @m4pl, @zaddyhotch, @fandom-garbage, @obsessed-oops, @ujws5, @babybluelrh98, @seraphinlover, @reidsflwr, @cattt777, @fishsticksarenice-blog, @velvetinkbym

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner smut #criminal minds smut #aaron hotch fanfiction #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x female!reader #bearded!aaron hotchner #bearded aaron #daddy!aaron hotchner #daddy!aaron

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finelinevogue · 17 days ago

Text

let’s go home

summary - jack nearly gets taken from you and you’re worried that you’ve ruined everything

pairing - aaron hotchner x nanny!reader

word count - ~2k

❗️ warning : near kidnapping / physical violence

It all happened so quickly.

One moment you were holding hands and the next he was gone from your grasp.

It was so fast that you wouldn’t have even registered it if it hadn’t been for the devastating scream of his voice calling out for you.

“Y/N!”

Your whole body shook with adrenaline as you turned around and noticed him being taken from you.

“Jack!”

The crowd was so busy that you almost lost sight of him.

You had come to the park with Jack to get some fresh air. His dad had been pulled into meetings all day and so had asked you to mind him like you usually did. Jack had wanted to do something fun, so you’d suggested the local park.

You had completely forgotten there was a fair on so hadn’t accounted for how busy it would be.

“Hold on tight to me, okay bud?” You had said to him.

And he had been doing such a good job.

But you’d gone through a busy patch and you couldn’t control what would happen next.

The crowd split as you screamed for Jack’s name.

His hand had felt tugged out of yours and you knew he wouldn’t let go without your permission. Your worst fear came true when you turned and saw a random man tugging Jack away with him.

“Hey! Stop!” You yelled, hoping someone else would step in. “Someone help!”

The man started running, pulling Jack along.

Luckily Jack was still only little so they didn’t get very far.

You ran towards them like your life depended on it, because it really did. If you lost Jack you would never forgive yourself. It would be the worst occurrence in your head.

And God…

What would Aaron do?

Before you could entertain that thought you caught up to Jack and pulled him back and behind you.

Without thinking you swung your hand into the mans face. You had never done it before and you definitely did it wrong, because your thumb is definitely not meant to hurt that much after.

Your knuckles connected with the man’s face his head turned with the force.

The crowd gasped as they watched on.

Hopefully someone would be filming so you could at least show Aaron the footage and get this bastard arrested if he fled.

Your other hand kept a tight hold on Jack behind you.

You turned to Jack for a moment, “You okay?”

He nodded with teary eyes and wet cheeks. You were so furious and scared but you had to hold it together for Jack.

Before you could confront the kidnapper - because that’s what he was - your face got punched to the side and then another punch went straight into your stomach, making you keel over in agony.

That moment was what it took for some crowd members to interfere. Two men caught and shoved the man on the floor, holding him tight as they called for someone to call the park security.

For you though, you were trying to process a single thought.

The punch to your head had completely shaken you and the secondary punch to your stomach had winded you.

You hunched over so bad that you had to fall to your knees to try and ground yourself (literally).

“Jack.” You said with pain, wanting to check that he was still next to you.

“Yeah?” He asked, holding onto your hand.

You blew out a breath.

Fuck that hurt.

What was going to hurt even more was the redundancy notice Aaron was going to serve you as soon as he found out about this.

Of course you knew this could’ve happened to anyone, but you couldn’t help but think it felt personal. Like whoever the kidnapper was had been testing your ability to prove yourself and you had failed.

You’d become like a best friend to Jack over the months you had been his nanny. Now it felt like you had just ruined all that progress by letting him down in the worst way possible.

Someone else came down on the floor near you and you immediately grabbed Jack’s hand tighter and pulled him closer.

“It’s alright. Ma’am are you okay?” It was a woman speaking.

You looked up and noticed it was the parks security.

You nodded shakily.

“Is there someone I can call?” She asked.

You looked from her to where two members of park security was handcuffing the kidnapper whilst another one was taking some witness statements.

You then looked to Jack who looked really shaken still. You tried to smile but it hurt to move the muscles in your face.

Looking back at the woman you nodded weakly, “Aaron. Aaron Hotchner. From the FBI BAU.”

She nodded and immediately got to it.

You let out another deep breath before looking back at Jack. You held his hand with one of yours and used the other stroke his cheek carefully, making sure he wasn’t bruised or anything.

“Sure you’re okay?” You asked him.

“Was scary.” He admitted and it made you want to kill a man for making him feel like that. You’re sure Aaron would.

“I know, I know. I’d never let anything happen to you though.” You promised even though it felt like you’d already broken it.

He nodded.

His hand reached out to your cheek carefully.

“You’re bleeding.” He said.

You had to bite your lip to hold down the sob you wanted to let out.

This whole situation has been bad start to finish. It was rubbish that you felt like this but it was even harder having to hide how you felt to protect Jack.

“I’m okay.” You lied.

Another lady came over to you then, offering you a hand up. You took it generously, not letting Jack go.

She helped you up and you turned the other to wince as your stomach straightened. It didn’t feel good at all.

The lady helped you over to a nearby bench, the crowd slowly carrying on instead of staring at you. The kidnapper had been taken away by the park security, but you had no doubt they’d be back to talk to you and Jack.

You thanked the woman as she left you and Jack alone.

Jack immediately clambered into your lap, sitting weirdly but in a way that he could wrap his small arms around your neck and rest his head on your chest. You rested the good side of your face on top of his head.

“You’re okay now.” Jack said and it made a couple of tears fall down your cheeks.

Your tongue had to reach out and catch them before they could fall into his hair.

Jack, bless his heart.

This boy was so pure and lovely. He was completely lovely and it was all because his dad was the best role model.

Aaron was continually kind to you. He was always making sure you were comfortable at his house when you were over - which was nearly always. He would always buy in your favourite teas and juices so you didn’t have to bring your own. He constantly praised you and credited you for pulling him out of his darkest moments.

You had been there for Aaron and Jack when it felt like no one else could be.

You had slowly weaved your way into both of their lives.

Which is why it was all the more painful and scary when they could be taken away from you so easily. So carelessly in your case.

“Jack! Y/N!”

Jack’s head popped up from your chest and he immediately clambered off your body.

“No, Jack wait.” You said panicked.

You tried to move quick, but your stomach burnt as you moved. You swore to yourself over the pain, but calmed yourself down when you realised Jack was running towards Aaron. Spencer and Emily were close behind him.

“Dad!” He shouted.

Aaron bent down to catch him in his arms, bringing him up and hugging him close. You could tell Aaron was doing his best to think about all the good things right now.

He had Jack in his arms. He was okay.

You felt like you could finally breathe now. You didn’t have to shoulder everything anymore, even though you were worried for what Aaron would say to you.

Jack wiggled out of his dad’s hold and Aaron put him on the floor. Jack guided him over to you.

If you weren’t sure you had a concussion you might’ve noticed that Aaron was wearing your favourite suit he owned. He was so damn handsome and it was infuriatingly frustrating when he was constantly in close proximity to you.

“See, dad! Y/Ns poorly.” Jack explained as they came to stop in front of you.

Spencer and Emily suggested to Jack that they come with him for a moment.

Aaron crouched down in front of you then. You dropped your head so you didn’t have to look at him.

“Y/N.” Aaron said.

You shook your head, allowing more tears to fall.

Your cries were heavy and your body wracked, which only hurt your stomach, but you couldn’t dare face the anger of a terrified father in front of you.

“Sweetheart.” Aaron’s hand came to cup your chin softly, forcing your head to look at his.

His eyes immediately went to your beaten cheek and the blood there. His jaw clenched as his eyes wandered. It would no doubt bruise ugly.

“I’m so sorry.” You cried.

Aaron frowned, looking at you with those permanently sad eyes.

“What are you sorry for?” He asked seriously, dropping his hand so he could cup both of yours together in both of his.

You looked to Jack, who was playing around with Spencer and laughing to his heart’s content.

You couldn’t help but let out another cry, dropping your head again.

It could’ve turned out so different, so quickly, today.

Aaron could’ve come here and it could’ve been just you sitting on the bench. It was that fact alone that terrified you and caused you to cower into yourself.

Aaron tried to catch your gaze with his.

“Hey.” He tried, “Y/N, look at me.”

The authority in his voice is what caused you to look at him.

One of his hands left yours and came to wipe the tears from your cheeks away his the pad of his thumb.

He moved so delicately over the skin on the battered side of your face. He always was so delicate with you. You think Jack’s kindness and tender heart comes from his dad being a gentle giant.

“I’m sorry.”

“I don’t want to hear it.”

“But…”

“Stop, I mean it. Please.”

You pouted but let it be.

“Please don’t fire me” You asked, your voice sounding so small.

Aaron gave you a small smirk, something you believed he only reserved for you.

“I don’t think Jack would let me even if I wanted to, which I don’t.”

You nodded, feeling relieved.

“I’m sorry that this happened to you.” Aaron said.

You smiled at him, raising your combined hands up so you could delicately boop his nose with one of your fingers. Aaron smiled at the silly gesture.

“If I’m not allowed to apologise, then neither are you.”

“Okay.” He agreed. He paused before asking, “Well in case that case I want to say thank you for doing everything you did, for Jack.”

“I… love Jack. I couldn’t imagine anything happening to him.”

“I know.”

“Feel so s-stupid.” You said shakily. “I was holding onto his hand, Aaron, I promise.”

“I know.” Aaron smiled sweetly at you.

You knew you didn’t have to keep defending yourself to Aaron because he knew that none of this was your fault. You knew, perhaps only deep down inside of you, that he would never have been mad at you, but that’s the way your fear manifested itself.

You’re just glad they got the sick son of a bitch who thought he could get away with it.

“I punched him.”

Aaron frowned, “Who? The unsub?”

You chuckled, “He’s not an unsub Aaron, but yes.”

“You’re right. He’s screwed is what he is. At least he will be once I’m done talking with him.”

“Alright Agent, settle down.” You played along, laughing before wincing when your cheek stung from the movement. “Damn it.”

Aaron’s frown returned for the umpteenth time that day.

“I need to clean you up.” He said.

“It’s just a graze:”

Aaron spluttered out a profanity that would make Jack gasp with disbelief, but it made you giggle.

“I’m cleaning it up and bandaging that too.” He pointed to your hand. “Honestly, punching with your thumb tucked in.” He mumbled to himself, like he was more disappointed in himself for not teaching you the proper way to hit someone.

His affection towards you and his worry made your heart feel pulled towards him. It was a dangerous feeling but one you don’t think you’d mind acting on.

“Come on.”

His knees clicked as he stood up, forcing you to look up at him now.

“Let’s go home.” He held a hand out for you to stand up, only he didn’t let go once you were stood.

In fact he kept a solid grip on your hand until you relaxed and allowed your fingers to intertwine with his.

You gazed from your hands up to Aaron, giving him a soft smile as if to say ‘I hope you feel this too’.

Aaron turned to Jack then.

“Hey, buddy? Pancakes for dinner?” He asked and Jack cheered, Spencer lifting him up and twirling him around in glee.

Aaron looked at you, waiting.

“Yeah. Let’s go home.”

#aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch hotchner #aaron hotch fanfiction #aaron hotch imagine #aaron hotch x you #aaron hotch fic #aaron hotch fluff #aaron hotch angst

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appledressing · 4 months ago

Text

Like Garcia, I’m about to Swoon. WHAT!? The hell!? WS that reaction. I’m in the ground

Unspoken Desires

Pairing: Aaron Hotch x nanny reader AN: very very special thanks to @milla984 for the wonderful gifs. You are the best!! IN my mind this was Aaron when he overheard the phone conversation. This is not Vows of Rivalry part 2 that one will come tomorrow at 9:00 am PST

Aaron Hotchner had always prided himself on his ability to control his emotions. It was a necessary skill for his job at the BAU, where composure was often the difference between life and death. But lately, control had become an elusive thing, slipping through his fingers whenever she was around.

His nanny, Y/N, was in her late twenties, vibrant, full of life, and effortlessly beautiful. She had a natural way with his son, Jack, who adored her, and Aaron had grown to appreciate the calming presence she brought to their home. But somewhere along the way, his appreciation had shifted into something deeper, something more dangerous. He had tried to ignore it, tried to push it down, but every time he saw her, every time she smiled at him, it became harder to resist.

It was late afternoon when he came home one day, early enough to catch the end of Y/N's shift. As he stepped inside the house, he heard her laughing softly on the phone. Aaron paused just outside the living room, intending to greet her once she was finished with her call. But her words caught him off guard.

"No, seriously, I’m not kidding. He’s so attractive. You know, that tall, brooding look? The dad I nanny for? Yeah, Hotch." She giggled, the sound making Aaron’s breath hitch. "I’d let him do unspeakable things to me."

Aaron’s heart slammed against his ribcage. His normally stoic expression faltered as a heat spread through his body. He knew he shouldn’t be listening—he knew he should just walk away. But he couldn’t move. He was frozen, his mind replaying her words over and over again.

"I’m serious!" she continued, her voice teasing. "He’s so damn buttoned-up all the time, but I bet if you unbuttoned him, he’d be… well, you know."

Aaron’s mouth went dry. He didn’t know how much longer he could stand there without giving himself away. He shifted his weight slightly, his shoes scuffing the floor, and Y/N immediately turned.

Her eyes widened in surprise as she quickly ended the call. "Oh my God, I didn’t realize you were home." There was a brief, awkward silence before she recovered, a mischievous glint in her eye. "How much of that did you hear?"

Aaron cleared his throat, trying to regain his composure. "Enough."

"Enough, huh?" she teased, biting her lower lip. "Well, in that case, I hope I wasn’t too out of line."

"You’re never out of line," he said quietly, his voice rougher than usual. His eyes locked on hers, and for a brief, electric moment, neither of them said anything.

Finally, Y/N broke the tension with a soft smile. "I was just joking, you know."

Aaron raised an eyebrow. "Were you?"

Her cheeks flushed, but she didn’t look away.

For the rest of the evening, the air between them was thick with unresolved tension, but they both danced around it, neither willing to take the next step. Aaron told himself it was for the best—getting involved with her would be a mistake. But the thoughts that had been planted in his mind wouldn’t go away.

Three days had passed since Aaron overheard Y/N on the phone, and the memory of her words still haunted him. He couldn’t stop thinking about her—how she looked when she bit her lip in thought, the way she laughed so easily, and most of all, the things she had said. He had tried to shove those thoughts aside, but his mind kept circling back to them, making it impossible to focus on anything else.

Now, sitting in a busy restaurant with the BAU team for lunch, a rare moment of relaxation for the team, he found himself distracted once again, thoughts of Y/N constantly pulling at the edges of his mind. He absentmindedly sipped his water, only half-listening as Garcia animatedly recounted her latest tech adventure.

But then he saw her.

At a table near the window, there she was—Y/N, her hair shining in the natural light, dressed in a simple yet beautiful sundress that made her look effortlessly stunning. But it wasn’t just Sophie that caught his attention. It was the man sitting across from her.

The man was tall, dressed sharply in a button-down shirt, his body language relaxed and confident. And worst of all, he was leaning in too close. Much too close. Y/N was laughing at something he said, her hand brushing against his as they talked.

Aaron’s chest tightened, and a hot, unfamiliar feeling surged through him—jealousy, raw and burning. The possessiveness he'd been trying to bury came roaring to the surface. How could she be here, laughing and smiling with another man, after everything? After the way she'd talked about him on the phone?

Without thinking, Aaron’s jaw clenched, his hands balling into fists around the knife and fork.

"Hotch?" JJ’s voice broke through his haze. "You okay?"

Aaron didn’t respond. His gaze was fixed on Y/N, and every passing second made his blood boil hotter. He stood abruptly, the chair scraping loudly across the floor, startling the team.

Morgan raised an eyebrow. "Everything all right, man?"

"I’ll be right back," Aaron muttered, his tone clipped, as he stalked across the restaurant, eyes locked on Y/N and the man across from her.

He didn’t care about the people watching, didn’t care about the surprised looks from the rest of the team as they followed his movements. All he could think about was getting to her, pulling her away from this man who had no right to be near her.

"Y/N," he said, his voice more commanding than he intended.

Her head whipped around in surprise. "Aaron?" She looked startled, glancing between him and the man across from her. Her dining companion looked up too, startled by the sudden interruption. Aaron didn’t even glance at him. His focus was solely on her.

"What’s going on?" Aaron demanded, his voice harsher than he intended. His eyes flickered to the man, a dangerous edge creeping into his tone. "Who is this?" He didn’t care about the people staring or the team watching from across the room.He didn’t care about the clear hint of jealousy lacing his tone. All he could think about was the possessiveness clawing at his chest, about how he just wanted to throw her over his shoulder and take her home locking her away while screaming MINE like a caveman.

Y/N blinked, clearly caught off guard by his aggressive approach. "What are you—" She looked at her friend, then back at Aaron. "Aaron, this is Nico’s husband Collin. We’re just planning his surprise birthday party." turning to Collin she says, “Collin, this is Aaron the father to the boy I nanny.” The words took a second to sink in, and when they did, Aaron felt a wave of relief wash over him. But the possessiveness still lingered, simmering beneath the surface. He barely glanced at the man seated across from her, dismissing him as though he was insignificant, because in Aaron’s mind, he was.

The man across from her offered a polite smile, but Aaron barely registered it. His pulse was racing, his emotions spiraling. She wasn’t on a date. She was planning a party. A mix of relief and frustration surged through him,

He moved closer to Y/N, his body crowding her space, the intensity of his emotions spilling over. "Why didn’t you tell me about this?" he asked, his voice lower now but still charged. He knew his reaction wasn’t rational, but he couldn’t help it. The thought of her with someone else, even if it was innocent, drove him crazy.

Y/N eyes widened, a mix of surprise and something else—something like amusement—crossing her face. "I didn’t think I needed to tell you every detail of my day, Aaron," she said, her voice soft but pointed. Her gaze held his, unwavering, and for a moment, the world seemed to shrink around them.

Aaron’s breath came faster, his chest rising and falling with the weight of everything he was feeling. It was too much. He couldn’t hold it in any longer. In one swift movement, he reached for her, pulling her out of her chair and into him.

The kiss came out of nowhere—fierce, desperate, and claiming. He kissed her like a man starved, his hand tangled in her hair, the other gripping her waist as though he was afraid to let go. He poured everything he had into that kiss—his longing, his frustration, his possessiveness.

For a split second, Y/N froze, caught off guard by the sudden intensity of it all. But then, to Aaron’s overwhelming relief, she kissed him back. Her hands found their way to his shoulders then around his neck fingers tugging the back of his hair, holding him just as tightly as he held her.

When they finally pulled apart, both of them were breathless, their foreheads nearly touching. Sophie looked up at him, her lips parted slightly, eyes searching his face.

"Aaron," she whispered, her tone a mix of astonishment and affection, "what was that?"

Aaron took a deep breath, trying to gather his thoughts, but the truth was, he wasn’t thinking. He was feeling. And for once, he couldn’t control it.

"You drive me crazy," he admitted, his voice rough. "I couldn’t stand the thought of you with someone else."

Y/N eyes sparkled with a mix of amusement and surprise. "Well," she said softly, her lips curving into a grin, "I guess I wasn’t entirely wrong about you."But, smiling softly with her hand sliding up to cup his cheek she said, “I wasn’t on a date. I told you- this is Nico’s husband and we are just planning his surprise birthday party.” "I know," Aaron murmured, his thumb brushing lightly over her cheek. "But I couldn’t… I just—" "You’re jealous," she teased, her grin growing wider. "Aaron Hotchner, the unshakable, grumpy unit chief of the BAU, is jealous."

He didn’t deny it. He couldn’t. "Yes," he said simply, his voice raw with honesty. "I’m jealous. And I don’t want to hide it anymore."

Y/N smile softened, her fingers tracing the edge of his jaw. "You don’t have to."

Behind them, the BAU team sat at their table, watching the scene unfold in varying degrees of shock. Morgan had a huge grin on his face, clearly amused, while Garcia looked ready to swoon. JJ and Reid exchanged knowing looks, and Rossi just chuckled to himself, shaking his head at Aaron’s unexpected outburst.

Morgan finally broke the silence. "Well damn, Hotch. I didn’t see that coming."

Aaron ignored the team’s comments, his attention focused solely on Y/N. He pulled her closer, pressing his forehead to hers. "I should have told you how I felt sooner," he said, his voice quieter now, more vulnerable.

Y/N's gaze softened, her hand resting gently against his chest. "Better late than never," she whispered back.

Aaron Hotchner had always been a man of few words, but sometimes, actions spoke louder than any words ever could. I need to remake my taglist since I don't know how is still active so for now just tagging some friends.

@boldlyvoid @samuel-de-champagne-problems @reidsaurora @milla984 @reid-ingandweeping

@foxy-eva @thedancingcostumeyoungadult @ssahotchnerr

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner fanfiction #criminal minds fic #babysitter!reader #nanny!reader #dad!hotch #confession fic #mutual crushes

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kiwriteswords · 2 months ago

Note

Maybe some already together hotch and reader parenting Jack?

Heartstrings Attached [Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader]

Masterlist || Ao3||Word Count: 3k|| AN: this was fun and really nothing like I have written before! I was re-watching The Nanny pilot where Maggie has her first kiss and Mr. Sheffield's reaction made me wonder how Hotch would react to Jack dating!

Tags/Warnings: established relationship, family vibes, mentions of Haley's death, Teenage Jack Hotchner, Jack's first kiss, Jack's first crush, Jack's first heartbreak, Sad Hotch Hours, Missing Haley Hotchner Hours, hurt/comfort, Jack preferring Reader over Hotch, angsty Jack, No mention of if Reader is BAU or not, future fic, fluffy fluff fluff

Summary: Navigating parenthood is hard enough, but add in teenage love and angst, and Hotch was in for it--grateful to have you at his side, he struggles when Jack prefers your comfort to his own.

In the Hotchner household, evenings typically unfolded with a quiet kind of routine, the kind that comes with the stability of an established relationship and shared space. But tonight, as Aaron Hotchner watched Jack, now a teenager taller than himself, pacing back and forth in your living room, he sensed a disruption to your usual peace.

Jack had always been an anxious kid--much of that hung on Aaron’s shoulders, from all that his job took from and brought into Jack’s life.

"You seem... preoccupied," Aaron remarked, his voice calm as he set aside the case file he'd been reading. Jack stopped pacing and glanced at his father, then at you, who were curled up on the other end of the couch with a book in hand.

"It's nothing," Jack muttered, clearly wrestling with whether to share more. You looked over at Aaron, giving him a subtle nod, an unspoken signal between the two of you that said, 'Give him a minute.'

After a brief pause, Jack sighed and turned towards you, his expression torn between embarrassment and the trust he'd come to place in you over the years. "Actually, I... there's this girl at school."

You set your book down, your full attention on Jack. "Oh? What about her?" you asked gently.

Jack blushed, his hands shoved deep into his pockets as he mumbled, "I kinda like her. A lot. And I think she might like me too, but I don’t know what to do about it."

Aaron observed the exchange, feeling a twinge of something unfamiliar. Jealousy? No, it was more akin to inadequacy. Here was his son, coming to you with matters he was too embarrassed to discuss with his own father. But watching the ease with which Jack confided in you softened any hard feelings; if anything, it filled him with gratitude.

"What do you like about her?" you inquired, your voice laced with interest and devoid of any judgment.

"She's funny, and she likes a lot of the stuff I do. And she’s really smart," Jack explained, his eyes lighting up as he spoke.

"That sounds wonderful, Jack," you responded, smiling encouragingly. "Have you guys talked much?"

"Yeah, at lunch and stuff. I just... don't know if I should tell her how I feel, or even how to do that," Jack confessed, looking towards his father now.

Aaron cleared his throat, feeling suddenly on the spot. "Well, Jack, the truth is, being honest about your feelings is usually the best approach. It’s not easy, but it’s straightforward. Just... be yourself," Aaron advised, trying to recall how he’d navigated his own youthful crushes, which felt like a lifetime ago.

"You think I should just tell her?" Jack asked, his tone a mix of hope and nerves.

"I do," Aaron said, nodding. "But maybe you could start by asking her to hang out, just the two of you. See how it goes from there."

Jack considered this for a moment, then turned to you. "What do you think?"

"I agree with your dad," you said, your gaze soft yet earnest. "And whatever happens, we're here for you. It's okay to be nervous, and it's okay if things don't go exactly how you plan. What's important is that you're honest and respectful."

Jack nodded, taking in the advice from both of you. "Thanks," he said, a genuine smile breaking through his earlier anxious demeanor. "I think I’ll ask her to the movies this weekend."

"That sounds like a great idea," you encouraged, and Aaron couldn’t help but smile at the warm, supportive dynamic that had blossomed between you and Jack. It wasn’t the traditional picture of a family, perhaps, but it was yours, and it was filled with love and understanding.

Later that evening, as Jack headed upstairs, Aaron lingered behind with you, his expression thoughtful. "Thank you," he murmured, reaching for your hand. "For being here, for being you. For making things like this easier for him... and for me."

You squeezed his hand, leaning into him slightly. "We’re a team, Aaron. And I love being a part of this family."

He nodded, the weight of his earlier feelings of inadequacy lifting in the comfort of your presence. In this household, amidst the quiet routines and the occasional teenage turmoil, Aaron found not just solace but a deep, enduring partnership. And as he looked at you, he knew with certainty that together, there was nothing you couldn't handle.

Aaron Hotchner watched his son, Jack, meticulously adjust his collar for the third time in the mirror. The teenager's movements were stiff, each motion betraying a level of tension that Aaron knew all too well—it was a mirror to his own.

"You look great, Jack. She's going to think so, too," Aaron commented, attempting a reassuring tone as he leaned against the doorway of Jack’s room.

Jack met his father's gaze in the mirror, his eyes flashing briefly with a familiar intensity. "What if I don’t even know what to say? What if—"

"Jack," Aaron interjected, a bit more sharply than intended, "you've prepared enough. Overthinking it won't help."

The words were meant to steady, but they landed like a challenge. Jack turned abruptly, his expression hardening. "You don’t understand. It’s easy for you to say—"

Aaron felt a prickle of irritation. "Jack, I’m trying to help you. There’s no reason to—"

"Yeah, by telling me I’m overthinking? Thanks a lot," Jack snapped, his tone biting, and stormed past Aaron towards the stairs.

You appeared at the bottom of the staircase, having caught the tail end of the exchange. Your expression was one of concern mixed with calm. "Everything okay?" you asked, looking from Jack’s retreating back to Aaron’s tight expression.

Aaron sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "He’s just nervous," he muttered, following you and Jack to the car.

The ride to the movie theater was tense, the air thick with unspoken apologies and frustrations. Aaron drove, his hands gripping the steering wheel a little too tightly, while you sat beside him, offering a gentle presence. In the backseat, Jack was silent, lost in his own whirlwind of teenage angst.

When you arrived at the theater, Jack unbuckled his seatbelt and paused, his hand on the door. He seemed to struggle with himself for a moment before turning slightly. "Sorry for snapping, Dad. I’m just... really nervous."

Aaron nodded, a mixture of relief and concern in his eyes. "It’s okay, Jack. Just be yourself, she’ll see how great you are."

Jack managed a small, grateful smile before stepping out of the car and into the evening crowd. As he walked away, Aaron watched him go, a pang of helplessness touching his heart. It wasn’t just about tonight; it was the creeping realization of how much he would have to learn to navigate as Jack grew up.

You reached over, touching Aaron’s arm. "He’s going to be fine," you murmured. "And so are you."

Aaron let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. "It never gets easier, does it? Letting them face things on their own."

You shook your head, your smile gentle. "No, but we do get better at trusting them to handle it. And Jack knows he has us to come back to, no matter how it goes."

Aaron glanced at you, the steady assurance in your voice grounding him. "I don’t know what I’d do without you," he admitted, the weight of his role as a single parent momentarily overwhelming.

"You’d do just fine," you assured him, squeezing his arm. "But you don’t have to. We’re in this together, remember?"

He smiled then, a genuine smile that reached his eyes. "Together," he echoed, feeling the truth of that word deep in his bones.

As you and Aaron drove back home, the earlier tension melted away, replaced by a comfortable silence that spoke of shared burdens and joint victories. In that moment, Aaron knew that whatever challenges lay ahead with Jack, or with anything else, they were surmountable—as long as you were there beside him.

When Aaron and you arrived at the theater to pick up Jack, the sight of him waiting by the curb instantly signaled a change. There was a lightness in his step, a barely contained energy that was unusual for the typically composed teenager.

Jack slid into the backseat, a faint, almost secretive smile playing at the corners of his lips. He said nothing as Aaron pulled away from the curb, glancing occasionally in the rearview mirror at his son. Jack’s eyes were bright, his usual tension nowhere to be seen, replaced by an excited glimmer that Aaron had rarely witnessed.

The car was quiet, the silence stretching as Aaron and you exchanged knowing looks. Both of you could sense the bubbling enthusiasm Jack was struggling to contain, yet neither of you wanted to press him, giving him the space to share in his own time.

Finally, unable to bear the suspense any longer and always more attuned to breaking the ice, you turned slightly in your seat to face Jack. “So? How was the movie?” you asked, your voice casual but tinged with an undercurrent of excitement for him.

Jack’s response was immediate, his words tumbling out in a rush. “It was awesome! We...” He paused, a flush spreading across his cheeks, and then he burst out with it. “We kissed! It was my first kiss.”

Aaron’s eyes met Jack’s in the rearview mirror, a smile breaking across his face at his son's joyous exclamation. The car filled with a warm, buoyant energy, the kind that comes from witnessing a milestone in someone you love dearly.

“That’s great, Jack!” you exclaimed, your delight evident. “How do you feel?”

Jack laughed, a sound of pure happiness. “I like her so much. She’s amazing. And the kiss was... it was perfect, I think. I mean, I don’t really have anything to compare it to, but...” His voice trailed off, and he shrugged, almost sheepishly.

Aaron listened, his heart swelling with a mix of pride and a poignant touch of sadness at the reminders of his own first experiences with love. “It sounds like you had a really good time,” he said, his tone supportive. “I’m happy for you, Jack.”

“Thanks, Dad. And thank you,” Jack added, looking at you. “For the advice and... just for being there.”

You nodded, your expression soft. “Anytime, Jack. We’re both so happy it went well.”

The rest of the drive home was filled with Jack sharing more details about the evening—the movie they’d barely watched, the nervous moments leading up to the kiss, and his plans to see her again. Aaron drove, listening and occasionally glancing back at Jack, who seemed to grow with each word he spoke.

When you all arrived home, Jack bounded out of the car with a quick, “Thanks for the ride!” before heading inside, no doubt eager to relive the evening in his mind.

Aaron turned to you, his eyes reflecting a complex mix of emotions. “He’s growing up fast,” he murmured, the reality hitting him anew.

You reached over, taking his hand. “He is. But he’s growing up well, Aaron. That’s all we can ask for.”

Aaron squeezed your hand in response, the solidity of your presence grounding him. “Yes, that’s all we can ask for,” he agreed, the pride evident in his voice. As you headed into the house together, Aaron felt a profound gratitude for the family you had become, imperfections and all, bound together by moments of simple, shared joy like tonight.

Over dinner, Jack's enthusiasm was infectious. As he detailed his plans to woo his new crush with flowers and romantic gestures straight out of the movies, Aaron couldn't help but share amused, knowing glances with you across the table. Every so often, Jack would catch them mid-glance and roll his eyes, a grin unable to hide his embarrassment.

"You think I'm being too cheesy, don't you?" Jack asked a playful accusation in his tone.

"Not at all," you replied, smiling warmly at him. "It's sweet. It's nice to see someone still believes in doing romantic things. Flowers are always a good idea."

Aaron nodded in agreement, watching as Jack considered your advice. "Just make sure you pick ones she likes," he added. "It shows you pay attention."

Jack nodded enthusiastically, absorbing every piece of advice like a sponge. "I’ll find out what her favorites are," he resolved.

The conversation lingered on lighter topics as you finished eating, but the warmth of family and shared understanding lingered in the air.

Later that night, as Aaron and you were getting ready for bed, the atmosphere shifted to a quieter, more reflective mood. You turned to Aaron as he was folding his clothes, a soft smile playing on your lips. "You know, Jack is a lot like you," you mused. "Even as a teenager, he’s got your sweetness. And he gets this giddy excitement about someone he cares about—just like you."

Aaron met your gaze in the mirror, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Was I that obvious?" he asked, though he already knew the answer.

"Completely," you teased gently, stepping closer. "I still remember our early days. Despite your stoic exterior, you had this way of showing your excitement that was... really endearing."

He turned to face you fully, his expression softening. "I guess some things don’t change," he admitted, reaching out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "I still feel that way, you know. Every day with you."

Your eyes lit up at his words, and you leaned into his touch. "And I love that about you, Aaron. It’s the little things you do, the way you show you care. It’s never lost on me."

The conversation lingered in the air, settling warmly around them like a blanket. It reminded Aaron of how much he still wanted to make you feel special, how even the simplest gestures could speak volumes.

"Jack gave me a good reminder; I think I’ll buy you flowers tomorrow," Aaron declared softly, more to himself than to you.

You chuckled softly, your eyes twinkling with affection. "I’d like that," you said.

As you finished getting ready for bed, the connection between them felt as fresh and exciting as it did in the early days of your relationship, a testament to the enduring nature of deep, genuine love.

It wasn’t long until the atmosphere of the Hotchner household shifted dramatically one afternoon when Jack burst through the front door, his usual calm demeanor replaced by a storm of teenage angst. He rushed past Aaron and you, not stopping to greet or even acknowledge either of you, his footsteps thundering up the stairs. Moments later, his bedroom door slammed shut with a force that echoed down the hallway.

You and Aaron exchanged a look of concern, both sensing the gravity of whatever had upset Jack so deeply. Aaron's jaw set in a familiar, determined line as he made his way to Jack's room, knocking softly despite the previous display of anger.

"Jack, can we talk?" Aaron called through the door, his voice calm but firm.

There was a tense pause, then a muffled, "Go away," from inside.

Aaron opened the door anyway, stepping into Jack’s room to find him sitting on the edge of his bed, his face buried in his hands. "Jack, whatever it is, I’m here to help," Aaron offered, trying to bridge the gap with understanding.

Jack looked up, his eyes red and his expression one of raw, unguarded pain. "You wouldn’t understand," he snapped, his words laced with frustration. "You met Mom in school and then found Y/N so easily after Mom passed. You’ve never had your heart broken like this."

The comment stung, bringing with it a flood of memories—of Haley, of loss, of the deepest kind of heartbreak Aaron had ever known. But he had to laugh internally at the irony; Jack had no idea what real heartbreak was, yet his feelings were valid in their own teenage context.

"Jack, I may not understand exactly what you're feeling right now, but I’ve experienced loss, more than just once. I can try to help," Aaron said, his voice even despite the emotional undercurrent.

Aaron looked around his son’s room--oh, how it had changed so much over the last few years. The legos and drawings now replaced with soccer trophies and posters.

"It’s not the same!" Jack retorted, his anger flaring again. "You don’t get it. She said she just wants to be friends, after everything... after the kiss. I thought... I don’t know what I thought."

Aaron sat down beside him, trying to close the distance. "It’s tough, feeling like you’ve been pushed aside," he offered. "But it doesn’t diminish what you felt, or what you meant to each other."

Jack shook his head, the rejection too fresh, too raw. "Just leave, Dad. Please," he murmured, not meeting Aaron's eyes.

Respecting his son’s request, Aaron stood and left the room, the door closing softly behind him this time. He returned downstairs, where you were waiting, having sensed that the conversation might not have gone smoothly.

Aaron relayed the interaction to you, his features tight with concern and helplessness. "He’s really hurting," Aaron confessed, the weight of his role as a father feeling particularly heavy.

You stepped closer, wrapping your arms around him. "You did what you could. He just needs some time," you reassured him, your voice soothing. "Heartbreak is a part of growing up, as hard as it is to watch. He'll learn from this, with us to support him."

Aaron nodded, leaning into your embrace, grateful for your presence and perspective. "It’s just hard, seeing him go through it," he admitted. "Makes me wish I could shield him from all the pain."

"But then he wouldn’t really grow, would he?" you pointed out gently. "All we can do is be here when he’s ready to talk, ready to heal."

"Right," Aaron agreed, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. "Thank you," he added, the gratitude in his voice reflecting more than just thanks for this moment—it was for every moment you stood by him, helping him navigate the complexities of fatherhood and life itself. Together, you would be ready for when Jack decided to open up, ready to guide him through the pain toward healing.

Later that evening, as Aaron sat in the living room thumbing through an old case file, he couldn't shake the image of Jack’s hurt expression. He was roused from his thoughts by the sound of footsteps descending the stairs. Looking up, he saw Jack hesitating at the foot of the staircase, his eyes darting between Aaron and the hallway where you were.

"Dad, can I talk to Y/N?" Jack asked quietly, his voice revealing his vulnerability.

Aaron felt a pang in his chest, torn between relief that Jack was seeking comfort and a sting of jealousy that it wasn’t from him. He thought of Haley, of how things might have been different if she were here, but then he looked at you, emerging from the hallway behind Jack, and his heart filled with gratitude. You had become an integral part of their lives, filling spaces he hadn't known were empty.

"Of course, Jack," Aaron replied, managing a supportive smile as he watched you approach, your presence reassuring and steady.

You gave Aaron a gentle look that seemed to understand his mixed emotions before turning your attention to Jack. "Let’s talk, okay?" you said softly, guiding Jack back to his room for privacy.

Left alone with his thoughts, Aaron reflected on his journey—the loss of Haley, the challenges of single parenthood, and the unexpected blessing of finding love again with you. It was a complex tapestry of grief and new beginnings.

When you and Jack reappeared a while later, there was a noticeable shift in Jack’s demeanor. He seemed calmer, more composed, and he walked straight up to Aaron.

"I’m sorry for pushing you away earlier, Dad. I didn’t mean to," Jack apologized, his eyes earnest.

Aaron stood, setting aside the file, and pulled Jack into a hug. "It’s okay, Jack. I understand. It’s not easy, and I’m here whenever you need to talk, okay?"

Jack nodded, returning the embrace. "Thanks, Dad."

As they settled onto the couch, Aaron next to you and Jack opposite, the atmosphere was lighter. Aaron felt the need to address the earlier tension and offer some fatherly advice.

"Jack, life... it throws a lot at us. Heartbreak, loss—it’s all part of it. But so is happiness and love," Aaron began, his eyes flicking to you, then back to Jack. "You have plenty of time to find your happy ending. And sometimes, it happens when you least expect it."

He reached over, taking your hand in his, a silent testament to his words.

Jack smiled, a touch of red coloring his cheeks as he understood the implication. "I guess you’re right. I’ve got time."

"And remember, no matter what, you’re never alone," you added, squeezing Aaron’s hand. "We’re both here for you, always."

The rest of the evening passed with a new sense of understanding and closeness among you all. Aaron felt a deep sense of peace as he looked at you and Jack--his family. At this moment, he knew that despite the trials and the losses, you had found a way to build something enduring and real. And for Aaron, you were indeed his happy ending, the unexpected joy that had come from a time of great loss.

Tag List: @zaddyhotch @estragos @todorokishoe24 @looking1016 @khxna @rousethemouse @averyhotchner @reidfile @bernelflo @lover-of-books-and-tea @frickin-bats @sleepysongbirdsings @justyourusualash @person-005 @iyskgd @hiireadstuff @kcch-ns @alexxavicry

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miley1442111 · 7 months ago

Text

safe- a.hotchner

--------------

summary: aaron had to make sure you're safe, can he get to you in time?

pairing: aaron hotchner x nanny! girlfriend! fem! reader

warnings: angst, fluff, suggestive mentions, angsty for a moment (I think that's it?)

not entirely proofread

--------------

Aaron ran through the crowd, the only thing on his mind was you. Were you hurt? Were you dead? Were you even in there? Could he help you? Could he get to you?

Was he too late?

He could hear Derek shouting for him, pleading with him to slow down. He didn’t understand, none of them would ever understand. You had to be ok. You were his everything. He should’ve never fallen in love with you, it wasn’t right. You were Jack’s nanny. You’d been with them since Haley died. You’d supported them since Haley died. Then you turned into someone whoAaron loved being around, someone he trusted with his son’s life, and his own. Then he waited up for you on his nights off, when you had your nights off. Then you waited for him on late work nights.

--------------

The door opening startled you, as it always did, but you just glanced to the hall and saw Aaron hanging his coat.

“Evening,” you called to him. “Or should I say morning?”

He sighed. “Shouldn’t you be out? Isn’t Jack at a sleepover?” He smirked.

“Not all young people only want to party,” you rolled your eyes, finishing up washing a dish and turning to him. “Hungry?”

“I can’t ask you to make me food-”

The nightly battle of getting him to eat something with nutritious value rather than old cereal while he looked over reports. “Nonsense. I have leftovers from Jack’s dinner, it’ll take me 10 minutes-”

His hand on your waist stopped you from moving. “You’re here to take care of Jack, not me.”

You rolled your eyes, brushing his hand off. “I know, remembering that would be a lot easier if you could take care of yourself,” you huffed, moving to start cooking something for him.

He sighed. “Y/n,” he scolded.

You didn’t answer, and just continued.

His hands circled your waist and you stilled. You felt his hot breath on your neck, and swallowed as the air became heavier, as the moment held more weight.

“Aaron,” you whispered, slow and steady as it came out of your mouth.

“No one ever takes care of you,” he said, a wolf-ish smirk on his face, one that you could definitely get used to.

“You do,” you shrugged, trying to get back to the task at hand.

“How? How would you like me to take care of you?” Aaron Hotchner was a man of iron-solid resolve, a man that couldn’t break under too much pressure, that wouldn’t break under too much pressure. But you? You were his undoing, you guided him through everything, knowing he was keeping you and Jack safe everyday made his days less unbearable.

You chuckled lightly and turned around to face him. Then you pressed your lips to his.

He could’ve sworn you tasted like heaven. Your hands running through his hair, his hands on your waist, his lips on yours. Nothing could’ve felt better.

He pulled back and smiled.

You smiled too.

--------------

“Hotch!” Derek shouted, finally getting a hand on him. “Jack is out of there, he’s safe!”

Aaron turned to him briefly. “Y/n isn’t out, she’s not here, is she Derek?”

“Who’s Y/n?” He cursed several times under his breath.

“His girlfriend,” you answered. You were banged up pretty badly, bruises and bleeding and dirt, but you were standing there. In front of him, you were real, you were alive. He opened his arms and you slumped into them.

“I tried my best to keep Jack out of it, I don’t know where he is, I just told him to run-” you spoke quickly, but he quieted you with a kiss to your head.

“He’s safe,” he promised. “You're safe too.”

You nodded, and buried your head in the crook of his neck as the team watched on in shock.

Aaron wasn’t planning on answering any of their questions, all he wanted was to have you and Jack home and safe. Where he could protect you.

--------------

criminal minds masterlist :)

navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, obx, the bear, marvel, top gun, the hunger games :)

#criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #bau team #criminal minds x reader #aaron hotchner x reader #criminal minds fandom #aaron hotchner #criminal minds fic #aaron hotchner fluff #thomas gibson x reader #thomas gibson #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotch hotchner #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch imagine #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotch fanfiction

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ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused · 8 months ago

Note

aaron hotchner x jacks nanny/babysitter

she’s got a crazy ex that stalked and threatened her so she moved far away to live a simple, under the radar life and started working for hotch. he knows her situation and does his best to look out for her, maybe she’s like a live in nanny ? neither of them is bold enough to make a move first until her ex finds her and hotch and the team race to save her. ends with love confessions and all the sappy stuff

could be a one shot or a short lil series i’m sure whatever you write will be amazing !

༉‧₊˚. 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐨-𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 || 𝐚𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐧𝐞𝐫

— pairing: aaron hotchner x plus size babysitter!reader

— summary: your new life as a live-in nanny was wonderful, and with your dark past behind you, there was nothing that could ruin this. but as they say, what goes around comes around.

— warnings: heavily detailed violence BEWARE, surprisingly light angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, emotional hurt/comfort, physical hurt/comfort, mutual pining, abusive ex's :[, guns, and a horribly written action/fight scene (forgive me).

— wc: 1965

⋆ a/n: okay this is a heavy fic so beware once more, but aside from that this takes a fully turn! i don't really have anything else to say besides enjoy!

masterlist | AO3

“Backpack? Check. Lunchbox? Check. Shoes are tied? Check.”

You placed your hands on your hips triumphantly, a proud smile on your face as you examined the little boy.

Being a live-in nanny came with being organizational and making sure that Jack was ready for school everyday without fail. It wasn’t like Aaron was super strict on you; he understands when you have your days where things are a bit out of place, but honestly it was a personal preference, and totally not because you have a big fat crush on the FBI agent.

You had been very skeptical about your babysitting position at first because of your ex who was absolutely bat shit crazy. It was a situation you had barely escaped from, and it had taken almost everything in you to get where you were now, so you were a little afraid of men in general. But Aaron was kind, and welcoming, and fatherly, someone that you felt safe with.

And then, you fell in love.

It had scared the shit out of you of course, but now it was a feeling that you welcomed with open arms, even if you couldn’t act on it.

Your phone began to ring as you searched for the car keys, the contact name read ‘Aaron <3’.

“Morning!” You greeted with a smile as you picked up. “Good morning. How are you guys?” The older man asked. “We're doing just fine, as always,” You successfully found the keys. “How are things?” You knew better than to ask how he was, because if you had the kind of job that he did, there was no way you could answer positively.

“We pretty much have everything we need, so we’ll probably be able to wrap this case up early.”

“Oh Aaron, that's great!” You cheer happily and make your way back to where Jack was waiting for you. “You ready to go, little man?” Jack looks up at you from his toys. “Is that daddy on the phone?”

“Yeah buddy, you wanna say hi?”

“Yes!” Jack’s answer was full of excitement, and you can’t help but smile. “As much as I enjoy talking to you, it looks like I’m handing you over.” You swear you could hear Aaron chuckle.

Yeah, this was a life that you could get used to.

Having the house to yourself was weird.

With Jack away at his aunt’s for the weekend, it was strangely quiet due to the emptiness of the child’s presence. You suppose you’re grateful for the break even though taking care of Jack really isn’t as tiring as one might think.

Despite Aaron rarely being home, he’s managed to raise the boy well when he could, and it’s honestly very admirable. It’s one of the many things that made you fall in love with him. You gaze down into the wine glass at the thought, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

Ugh, why does love make you such a loser?

Your bashful train of thought was stopped by a suspicious thump coming from the back of the house. Your smile dropped and a feeling of anxiety and worry twisted in your gut as you grabbed your phone that was lying on the kitchen counter.

You’re quick to dial Aaron’s number and your fingernail finds itself in your mouth as you chew on it anxiously. It’s an old habit, one that you had picked up back in your old relationship.

“Hello?” Rasped Aaron.

You knew he had just recently flown in from wherever he was because you could hear the foot traffic of everyone grabbing their luggage from the plane’s storage.

“Hey,” Your greeting was nervous and it was something that Aaron easily picked up on. “What’s wrong? Are you alright?” He asks with a furrowed brow. “Yeah, just um - I’m just hearing some weird things so I just wanted to know when you think you might be getting home.” I miss you.

“Honey what type of weird things?” Before you were able to answer, there was a loud crashing sound. You instantly dropped to the floor to hide behind the counter; you cradled the phone to your ear, “Okay uh - change of claim,” You attempted to joke. “Someone is most definitely in the house.”

Aaron tries not to panic at the way his insides turn cold, “You remember what to do, right?” He asks with a hardened voice. You gulp, stretching slightly to peer over the marble. You stare out into the darkness and a frightened shiver shoots up your spine.

“Get to your room and enter the safe.” You reiterated what he had told you almost a year ago when you had first moved in. You’ve never shot a gun before but tonight might be the night where you learn how too.

“That’s right, and do you remember the code?”

As you went to answer him, you were snatched up by your hair and a scream rang out and into the phone. Even though you weren’t on speaker the others that were currently standing outside with Aaron could hear it.

Aaron desperately calls out your name, and with your silence he takes off without any explanation, but his team knows to follow close behind.

“So, this is what you’ve been doing since you tried to leave me?!”

You cried out as another blow was delivered to your gut but a heavy boot. Your lungs burned and there were tears streaming down your face. He had pulled you so hard over the counter that it made your scalp burn, a blistering headache beginning to form at the base of your skull.

“Fuck you!” You spat as you attempted to prop yourself up on your elbows.

There was a fine line between anger and fear, and this was one of those moments where they blend together. If you ended up dying tonight, at least you didn’t go down in vain.

This time he punched you in the face before snatching you up by your arms. There was a metallic taste in your mouth, a bruise already developing near your eye. “Why’d you leave me, huh?! We had a good thing going and you just… you just ruined it!”

“I didn’t ruin shit asshole!” You screamed and pushed at him but it was no use. “We were gonna get married but you… but you wanted to play house with an old man, really?!”

“You’ve been watching me.” You said in disbelief. It made your stomach twist in nausea and horror at the thought of him watching Jack, what he could’ve done to him. You had actively put the man you loved kid in danger and it devastated you.

“I had no choice!”

“You’re fucking crazy!”

“Put your hands where I can see them.” Aaron’s voice rang out throughout the house.

Before you knew it you were spun around with a gun to your head, his arm locked against your neck, faintly strangling you.

“Aaron!” You called out in relief, but it turned into a grunt as you tugged further into your ex’s chest.

Aaron’s gun was raised steadily, his eyes focused on your attacker, but he doesn’t hesitate to cast you a reassuring look. When he sees your bloody and bruised face his jaw tightens, the vein in his neck popping and visible through his skin.

“Boyfriend to the rescue, huh?” Your ex sneers into your cheek. You shudder.

“Put the gun down.” Aaron continues to coax, and out the corner of your eye you can see Morgan approaching through the darkness.

“Why do you want to save this slut? Don’t tell me you’ve already -” A shot rings out into the fair followed by a scream of pain.

Your ex collapses to the ground, cradling the gunshot wound in his knee as blood spills through his fingers. Aaron was the one that pulled the trigger and Morgan is already in the kitchen by the time he’s tugging you away and into his arms.

“Oh God.” You finally cried. “You came, you came…” His arms are wound tightly around you, purposefully tucking your face into his chest. “I’m here, I’m here.” He shushes and rocks you side to side in order to try and lull you.

Aaron – softly – orders you to sit down while he cleans up the blood when the rest of the team has already left.

You can’t help but watch him from where you’re sitting on the couch with his sleeves of his white button up rolled up and his hands gloved. “I’m sorry.” You decide to say, because you really were. “I’m sorry for everything.” There was so much more you wanted to say, but you felt your throat tighten with unshed tears.

“No, don’t apologize.” He says softly, abandoning the rag that he was using to scrub up said blood. “No Aaron you don’t understand. I put you and Jack in danger because of my bullshit and I thought that I had put it all behind me and I don’t -”

“Stop.” It’s a bit firmer this time. “I knew exactly what I was getting myself into when I offered you to live with me and my son. Nothing that has occurred tonight has swayed my trust or opinion about you, you know that, right?”

“Right.” His hand holds your cheek and strokes the soft skin of it. “Good.”

Your eyes flicker down to his lips before peering back into his eyes, “If I asked you to kiss me, would you?”

“I’m not sure.”

“I promise this isn’t like a trauma bond thing. I’ve liked you for as long as I’ve worked for you and I didn’t want to tell you because I have nowhere else to go if you say no. Plus,” You sigh, “I just don’t want to make things difficult or uncomfortable for you.”

“You could never do that, feelings reciprocated or not.” He reassures.

“Well are they?”

He grins at your question, “I’d be an idiot not to feel the same way.” You laugh and he leans forward to join your lips together.

A warm feeling spreads in your gut and you knew that this is what love was supposed to feel like.

ೃ⁀➷ my lovely taglist!: @alina02 @louderfortheback @minervadashwood @their-love @fandomsarelifee @theendofthe70s @nomajdetective @mgg-theprettiestboy @phoenixblack89 @celtic-crossbow @hallecarey1 @bunnybabe-babydoll @alixwriter @dixonzzgirl @violettavirus @khxna @moonysreid

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mariasont · 9 months ago

Text

Laundry Day - A.H

a/n: 1000 words for 1000 followers!!!!!!!!! i am in complete disbelief honestly, you all are so amazing and im so thankful for each and every one of you <3

masterlist

pairings: aaron hotchner x nanny!reader

summary: hotch begins to notice a difference in the way his clothes smell, wonder why?

wc: 1k

Hotch had been wrestling with the unsettling notion that he might be ill, or worse he had a brain tumor, manifesting through phantom smells. Whatever it was, it had been driving him crazy because the persistent aroma was undeniably yours, his nanny. As much as he didn't to admit it, this would usually be a welcome scent, soft and florally, like he had just stepped into a flower field.

Today, however, the scent was nothing short of an irritant. Every fleeting whiff had him jerking his head up, expecting to see you standing in the doorway of his office. But you were never there, of course, which only intensified the frustration gnawing at him.

There it was again, and despite his better judgement, his gaze darted to the door, unfortunately only to find Morgan casually propped against the frame.

"Hey, boss, got a minute?"

The scent had momentarily clouded his focus, but he quickly regained his bearings and closed the file, giving a firm nod. "What's up?"

"We've got a lead on the case in Richmond," Morgan started, handing over a document. "Local PD spotted a vehicle matching the description of our unsub's."

Hotch took the file, fingers thoughtfully brushing his chin as he scanned the pages. Morgan stepped closer, his nose giving a slight twitch before he took a seat in front of the desk.

"You know, Hotch, I gotta ask," Morgan prodded, a sly smile spreading across his face in a way that made Hotch uneasy. Morgan wasn't known for his filtered comments. "You got a girl or something? It smells way too good in here for just paperwork."

Point in case.

Hotch's eyes flickered up from the papers. "What? No, I--"

"Come on, man," Morgan chuckled, clapping him on the shoulder. "Don't play coy with me. Whoever she is, she's got good taste. I think Savannah uses the same perfume."

Hotch clamped the file closed, his mind racing faster than he could keep up with. So for one, it wasn't just in his head which was a good thing. He could rule out a brain tumor. But on the other hand that leaves the question of why the hell he smells like his nanny?

It was all he could focus on all day, paralyzing his work capabilities, reducing him to a state of mere motion without meaning.

It wasn't until the office AC malfunctioned, and he found himself stripping off his jacket, did he discover the source of the floral scent. His own jacket. He inhaled it cautiously, feeling slightly perverted before quickly stowing it away in a drawer, slamming it shut to dispel the borderline inappropriate thoughts.

When he finally arrived home, jacket in hand, he headed straight towards the sound of your humming. Normally, he'd make his rounds--first to Jack's room, who was usually napping at this time, then to the kitchen for his nightly scotch, and finally to his home office. But today was different.

The jacket hung loosely over his forearm, briefcase now abandoned at the door as he made his way towards the sound of your voice. It was the damn scent that greeted him first, drifting from the laundry room, and then, finally, the sight of you.

But what caught his attention, besides you and your slightly too short skirt, was the undeniable evidence of you misting his clothes with your perfume.

He said your name, almost in a scolding way, which he quickly realized his mistake when you whirled around, gasping as the bottle slipped from your fingers, shattering on the tile floor.

"Don't move," Hotch commanded, heart racing as he watched the glass scattered around your bare feet.

He moved towards you, stepping over the glass, carefully scooping you in his arms and setting you safely on the counter. He then knelt down, gathering the broken pieces.

"Mr. Hotchner, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you're trying to sweep me off my feet." Your legs were dangling from the counter, swinging back and forth. He gave you a deadpan look, his eyebrow raised every so slightly. "You're no fun."

You pouted, attempting to slide off the counter, but his hand was on your ankle in an instant.

"Stay put," he ordered, his tone leaving no room for argument. He sighed, collecting the last of the glass and tossing it before standing up straight. "Also, is there a particular reason my suits now double as air fresheners?"

"Mr. Hotchner, you wound me with your accusations," you said, hand over your heart, crossing your legs in a criss-cross apple sauce fashion.

You were going to be the death of him.

Hotch cleared his throat, willing his gaze not to dip in between your legs. "You're wearing a skirt."

"Oh whoops," you giggled, fixing your position.

"And for the record, I actually didn't accuse you, but your defensiveness and the fact that I caught you red handed tells me everything I need to know." He took a step towards you. "Care to explain?"

"I...um, wanted to make sure you're always fresh?"

"And you chose your own perfume for that?"

"How do you know it's mine?"

With a step that erased any remaining space between you, Hotch bent slightly, his nose near your collarbone. "It's hard to miss."

He took a step back, giving you room to breathe.

"I just wanted to make sure any girls on the street didn't get the wrong idea," you said, the corners of your mouth turning up.

Hotch let out a chuckle. "You do realize you're my nanny not my wife, correct?"

"Tomato, tomahto."

"Careful."

You swung your legs off the counter, standing up straight. "Any chance to buy me another perfume bottle? It was kind of expensive, and well, you know my salary..."

"No." It wasn't as firm as he wanted it to be and it only took him a second to give in, this happened a lot when it came to you, handing over his credit card. "Fine."

taglist: @hotchhner @khxna @readergf @sarcasm-and-stiles @edencherries @aurorsworld @princess76179 @malindacath

#aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x fem reader #aaron hotchner x nanny!reader #aaron hotchner x nanny reader

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alinathinkstoomuch · 1 day ago

Text

Drunk On You

pairing: aaron hotchner x nanny!reader summary: your boss picks you up after a night out and you smother him with sex jokes and your feelings warnings: suggestive, tension tension tension, reader needs to chill, sackable offences but hotch is a softy, hotch sees the colour of readers underwear (inesert that one charli xcx song), hotch tracks readers location (relax joe goldberg), pining, protective!hotch, hotch is just the perfect man yes i am a throw up drunk leave me alone word count: 5k

not proof read players i shall do that tomorrow morning on corporate time

It was an unusual Saturday night for Aaron. The house was quiet. Missing Jack’s antics – he was spending the weekend camping with Jessica and Roy – and missing you.

No sweet perfume lingering in the air, no soft humming as you loaded and unloaded the dishwasher, a task Aaron had insisted you didn’t have to worry about because you were the nanny, not the maid. But you never listened. Just like you never let a pile of laundry sit unfolded or a toy stay out of place for too long.

Aaron had never given much thought to the little details of domestic life before, but you had a way of making them feel... noticeable. You were woven into the fabric of his home in ways he hadn’t anticipated.

The quiet should’ve been a relief. No FBI cases waiting for him, no screaming unsub demanding his attention, no late-night paperwork eating away at his free time. He should’ve been able to enjoy the peace.

Not when he knew where you were tonight. Not when he could still hear your voice in his head, casual and offhanded, telling him about the birthday party you’d been invited to. About how the birthday girl’s idea of a good time was getting steaming drunk and finding a guy to make out with.

Aaron had brushed it off at the time, forcing himself to nod, to keep his reaction neutral. It wasn’t his place to feel anything about your plans – he knew that. But the thought of you out there, surrounded by strangers, drinking, laughing, maybe kissing someone who didn’t know you the way he did...

He let out a slow breath, running a hand over his face as if that could wipe away the thought.

It didn’t.

With a quiet sigh, he turned to pour himself a glass of bourbon, the rich honey liquid swirling in the dim light. Even that was a reminder of you. A gift you had given him on your one-year anniversary of working for him and Jack, wrapped neatly with a note that had read:

For the best boss ever – because even superheroes deserve a drink.

He had smiled when he first read it, tucking the note away in his desk drawer instead of throwing it out. He told himself it was because Jack might want to look back on it one day.

Now, as he took a slow sip, the warmth spreading through his chest, he wondered if that had ever really been the reason.

His hand drifted to his pocket before he could stop himself, fingers curling around his phone. He pulled it out, the screen glowing softly. His thumb hovered over the familiar green app, hesitation flickering through him.

He shouldn’t.

He knew he shouldn’t.

But the temptation was there, gnawing at the edges of his restraint. You had been sharing your location with him since you started working for him and Jack – your idea, not his. Just in case, you had said with a smile, if I’m out with Jack and you can’t reach me, at least you’ll know where we are.

It had made sense. It was practical.

But Jack wasn’t with you tonight, and here he was, opening the app regardless.

His job had shown him first-hand what kind of vultures lurked in the world – predators who waited for the right moment, who preyed on people like you. People who were too kind, too trusting. People who laughed freely, who lit up a room without realising it, who believed the best in others even when they didn’t deserve it.

He told himself that was why he checked. That was why his eyes scanned the map, searching for the little blue dot that told him where you were.

A bar downtown.

Of course.

Aaron sighed, setting the phone down on the counter like it burned him.

You were fine. You were an adult. You were allowed to go out, to drink, to do whatever you wanted.

But the thought of you – tipsy, surrounded by strangers, maybe some guy with his hand on the small of your back, leaning in too close – made his stomach twist in a way he didn’t want to analyse.

He braced his hands on the counter, exhaling through his nose, willing himself to let it go.

Then his phone buzzed with a message from you.

Having fun?

He frowned, reading it twice, his grip tightening around the device. A second later, another message popped up.

Wait. Don’t answer that. I know you’re home. You don’t have fun.

His lips twitched despite himself. Then another message came.

I can hear you rolling your eyes from here.

This time, he didn’t fight the smile.

Aaron leaned against the counter, staring at your words, his fingers hovering over the keyboard. He should tell you to be safe. He should remind you to call if you needed anything.

Instead, he typed:

How many drinks have you had?

The response was instant.

Not enough yet.

He let a breath out, his thumb tapping idly against the screen.

Pacing yourself, I hope.

The read receipt popped up but no response came. His jaw tightened. You always responded quickly, even when you were busy, even when you were teasing him, there was never a delay.

A minute passed. Then another.

Aaron forced himself to set the phone down, crossing his arms over his chest as he stared at the darkened screen, willing it to light up again. He was overthinking it. You were probably distracted, mid-conversation, laughing at some joke he wouldn’t understand. You were fine.

He did his best to keep busy for the rest of the evening, but his mind kept drifting back to his phone. Every so often, he checked it – switching between your last text and the location app.

You hadn’t responded.

You hadn’t moved.

He told himself not to read into it. Maybe your phone had died. Maybe you left it in your bag somewhere and hadn’t checked it. Maybe you were just having fun.

Still, the glass of bourbon remained untouched beside him, the usual pull of exhaustion never quite setting in. It wasn’t until the clock crept past one in the morning that he finally let himself lie down on the couch, forcing his eyes shut.

Just an hour, he told himself. Then he’d check again.

He didn’t remember falling asleep, but when he woke up, his neck stiff and the room bathed in darkness, the first thing he did was grab his phone.

3:27 AM.

The uneasy weight in his stomach turned into a knot as he swiped open the location app.

Still at the bar.

He frowned, sitting up fully. A quick Google search confirmed what he already knew – the bar closed at 3 AM. So why the hell were you still there?

His pulse pounded in his ears, a dull thrum beneath his skin. A dozen possibilities ran through his mind, each one worse than the last. Maybe your phone had died. Maybe you were waiting for a ride. Maybe –

Maybe something was wrong.

You should’ve left by now. You should be home.

Before he even registered the thought, he was on his feet, grabbing his keys from the counter. He barely remembered locking the door behind him, barely noticed the cool night air as he climbed into his car. His hands were steady as he punched the bar’s address into the GPS, but his chest was tight, his breath slow and measured in a way that only happened when he was forcing himself to stay calm.

He wasn’t overreacting. This wasn’t just some irrational impulse. Because if there was even the slightest chance that you needed him – if you were alone, stranded, or worse – then sitting back and doing nothing wasn’t an option.

Aaron gripped the wheel tighter as he pulled onto the street, scanning the sidewalk. The bar had emptied out, its neon sign flickering against the damp pavement, and the only movement came from a few stragglers loitering near the entrance, voices loud and slurred.

Then he saw you.

Sitting on the curb, legs stretched out, leaning back on your hands like you didn’t have a care in the world.

Absolutely shit-faced.

His jaw tensed as he threw the car into park, cutting the engine.

You were smiling at something in the distance, your head titling slightly, eyes unfocused, lost in a world far from this dimly lit street.

The streetlights bathed you in a soft, golden glow, casting shadows over the flush in your cheeks, the curve of your shoulders, the bare skin catching the night air. You looked otherworldly – untouchable, ethereal, like something that didn’t belong in a place like this.

And yet, here you were.

Aaron swallowed hard, dragging his gaze away, forcing himself to find something – anything – else to focus on. He had no business looking at you like this. No business letting his thoughts wander into places they didn’t belong.

But it was impossible not to.

The hem of your dress barely skimmed the tops of your thighs, fabric pooling over your legs that seemed long and endless in a way that felt entirely unfair. He had never seen this much of you before – never had to resist the temptation, to let his eyes trace the lines of your body, the soft slope of your knee, the stretch of smooth skin illuminated by neon light.

And God help him, it did something to him. Something that should never be spoken aloud.

You never dressed conservatively for his sake, you dressed for yourself. Some days you showed more skin than others, but even then, the most he’d ever been allowed to see were glimpses – your ankles peeking beneath the hem of a sundress, the curve of your calf when you curled your legs beneath you on the couch.

But tonight? Tonight, he was drunk too. Just on something else entirely.

Not appropriate. Not his concern. Not when he was supposed to be mad at you.

But then you tilted your head up at him, squinting slightly, as if trying to make out his face through a fog. “You look an awful lot like my boss,” you mused, shading your eyes with one hand like there was a blinding sun overhead. “He’s very handsome.”

Aaron dragged a hand down his face, inhaling through his nose. You were drunker than he thought.

“Alright, that’s enough. Get up.”

You hummed, tilting your head as if considering the request, then stretched your legs out further, the movement drawing his attention to just how much skin was on display.

"Mmm, I don’t think so," you sighed, leaning back on your palms. "I’m enjoying the view."

“The view of what exactly?” He looked across the street where there was nothing but darkened storefronts.

A slow, knowing smile spread across your lips. "You, sir."

Aaron stilled.

You squinted up at him, tapping a finger against your chin. "Do you like being called sir?"

"What?"

You waved a hand, bracelets jingling with the motion, as if you were letting him in on some great secret. "I was talking to this guy at the bar earlier," you began, voice light, careless, like the words weren’t about to drive him insane. "He was telling me how he made his ex-girlfriend’s call him as sir – you know, when they did things…without clothes."

Your name left his lips, almost a warning but if anything it only amused you.

“It’s probably something I could get behind."

Aaron’s teeth clenched.

Enough.

“Get up.”

You pouted like a spoiled thing, tilting your head. "You’re no fun at all," you huffed, dragging out the words like a complaint. Then, as if your mouth didn’t already have him questioning his patience, you added, "You know, a few Sex on the Beaches would cheer you up immensely."

Aaron didn’t take the bait, didn’t argue, didn’t roll his eyes. Instead, he crouched down, hands settling on your waist, fingers pressing against warm skin that he should not be noticing. He ignored the way something turned inside of him when he lifted you easily, the way his grip instinctively tightened to steady you.

"Have you ever had sex on the beach?"

His hands froze just for a second. His fingers stilled against the fabric of your dress as he tugged it down, as if correcting some mistake that should have never happened in the first place. A correction, a reset.

But the damage was done.

You looked up at him, slow, expectant, lips curved like you were waiting for something.

“Get in the car.”

“That’s not an answer but I will get in the car regardless because it’s cold.”

Aaron swallowed, his throat dry as he watched you turn toward the vehicle. You walked unsteadily, your balance off, your steps slow. And he followed, forcing himself to keep his gaze fixed on the back of your head.

Not the dress. Not your legs. Not the bare skin he’d already seen too much of tonight.

But as if the universe hadn’t tested him enough, as if fate was sitting back and laughing at him, just as you reached the door, he stepped forward to open it for you at the exact moment your purse slipped from your fingers, falling to the ground.

Without hesitation, you bent down to retrieve it right as Aaron was behind you.

His jaw locked so tight it ached.

He whipped his gaze away immediately, staring hard at the sky, at the roof of the car, at anything that wasn’t the colour of your underwear.

This was some kind of punishment. It had to be.

"You have got to be kidding me," he muttered under his breath, his fingers flexing at his sides, forcing himself to stay rooted in place instead of stepping back like a man guilty of something.

Oblivious to his suffering, you took your time grabbing your purse, steadying yourself on the car as you straightened. You glanced back at him over your shoulder, blinking innocently "What was that?"

He dragged a hand down his face before stepping forward and reaching past you to yank the car door open. “Nothing. Please, just get in the car.”

For once, you didn’t argue. You turned, dropping into the seat with no grace and all recklessness, your legs folding awkwardly, your limbs not quite cooperating with the rest of you. A quiet oof left your lips as you settled before Aaron shut the door.

He took a second longer than necessary to collect himself, inhaling deeply before making his way to the driver’s side.

By the time he slid in, his hands were already working his quarter-zip sweater free, the fabric bunching as he pulled it over his head, revealing the plain white t-shirt beneath. He always ran warm – too warm sometimes – but tonight felt different. Without a word, he passed the sweater to you.

You blinked down at it. "What’s this for?"

Aaron kept his eyes ahead as he started the engine, adjusting the car’s heating. “You’re cold.”

You said nothing as you shifted beside him, pulling it over your head, the sleeves hanging loose around your wrist. You let out a small, content sigh, curling into the fabric like it was the cosiest thing in the world.

Aaron risked a glance as he drove. Big mistake.

You were looking at him – right at him – chin tucked into the collar, eyes warm and drowsy, but not nearly as unfocused as they should have been. No, there was something else in your gaze, something aware, something playful.

“Are you warm enough?”

You sighed, stretching slightly, shifting in your seat in a way that only made this worse for him. “I am indeed. How did you know I was here?”

“You share your location with me.”

You gasped theatrically, twisting in your seat, attempting to tuck your legs underneath you despite the seatbelt digging into your skin. "Aaron Hotchner," you accused, voice full of scandal, "were you stalking me during my non-working hours?"

Aaron stopped at a red light, his focus shifting to you once more, scanning your face, searching for any signs of distress beneath all the teasing and drunken charm. “You were still at a bar that had closed. I just wanted to make sure you were alright.”

You grinned, leaning your head against the seat, voice loose and lazy. "I am more than okay, boss. I’ve had like thirteen strawberry daiquiris, and I saved all the colourful umbrellas too. For my scrapbook – look!"

You reached for your purse, the movement uncoordinated but enthusiastic. The small bag sat on your lap, and when you flipped it open, the contents spilled into clear view – too clear.

Aaron’s gaze moved down instinctively.

And then his knuckles went bone white.

Cigarettes. A pack tucked neatly inside and several golden foil wrappers glinting beneath the streetlights.

His fingers clenched the steering wheel too tightly, his stomach twisting with something he couldn’t immediately name. His heartbeat, slow and steady just moments ago, kicked up and not in a way he liked.

“You smoke?”

You blinked, glancing down at your purse, then back at him confused. “Huh?”

He didn’t look at you – he looked at the evidence sitting in your lap. "Since when do you smoke?"

You followed his line of sight. "Oh!" You let out a bright, almost delighted laugh, completely unaware of the storm brewing next to you. "No, no, no! Those aren’t mine! I – oh my God, this isn’t even my purse!"

Aaron didn’t move, didn’t blink.

You giggled, digging through it with renewed amusement. "I was wondering why my lipstick wasn’t in here! This explains it. Me and Lily must’ve switched at some point." You lifted the pack of cigarettes between two fingers. "She’s the smoker. And a terrible one at that. She always has to borrow lighters."

He still hadn’t breathed.

You tilted your head at him, then followed his line of sight back to the golden wrappers glinting between the folds of fabric.

Your brows furrowed before you rolled your eyes. "Oh, relax, dad. Those aren’t mine either. Lily’s got a very active love life and clearly she came prepared tonight."

Aaron’s grip on the wheel didn’t loosen. Not even a little. Not when you were watching him like that – lips twitching, barely holding back a grin, fully aware of what you were doing. Then, as if you hadn’t already pushed him far enough, you plucked one of the golden squares between two fingers, twirling it slowly, letting it catch the light.

"What?" you murmured, feigning innocence. "You want to borrow one?"

He turned his head, just enough to meet your gaze, just enough to silently tell you to stop before he lost whatever fraying patience he had left. “Put it away.”

"Oh," you sang, drawing the word out as you tucked the packet back into Lily’s purse, "you’re one of those."

"One of what?"

Your lips curled. “Like it raw. I spoke to another guy, and I think they call it a breeding kink these days.”

Aaron nearly slammed the breaks. His head snapped toward you so fast he almost gave himself whiplash. For a brief, terrifying moment, he thought he must have misheard you – because there was no way you had just said that.

No way.

But there you were, sitting in his passenger seat, swaddled in his sweater, smelling like alcohol and trouble, blinking at him with wide, deceptively innocent eyes, looking at him like he was the most entertaining thing in the world to you right now.

“You’re going to regret saying all of this tomorrow morning.”

“Yeah.” You nodded, as if you’d already accepted your fate. “I figured I was already out of a job when I asked you if you’d ever had sex on the beach.”

“You’re not out of a job,” he muttered, because he could never fire you. Never get rid of you. Never let you slip out of his orbit, no matter how much you tested him.

“That’s a shame.”

His brow furrowed. “Why is that a shame?”

“Cause then I’d have an excuse,” you hummed, your voice quieter now, softer, like you were sinking into the weight of the alcohol.

“An excuse for what?”

You turned your head, blinking over at him, your eyes softer now, so much softer than the teasing from before. "For making things messy."

Aaron gripped the wheel tighter. "What does that mean?"

You sighed dramatically, stretching your legs out as if this conversation wasn’t about to end him. "It means," you said languidly, like you were talking to yourself more than him, "if I wasn’t your nanny, if I didn’t work for you, if there weren’t so many reasons why this would be a bad idea, I’d let myself say it."

“Say what?”

“You’re smart, Aaron,” you murmured, your voice slow, dragging over the syllables like you were fighting sleep.

His chest felt too tight.

And when you smiled at him – sleepy, real, unguarded – Aaron thought he might actually break.

"You know what.” Your voice barely above a whisper.

He said nothing, the only sounds filling the space between you were the hum of the engine and the occasional sigh from your side of the car for the rest of the journey. You weren’t fully asleep, not yet, but your body had started to melt into the seat, exhaustion creeping in despite your best efforts.

When Aaron pulled into his driveway, he shifted into park and glanced at you, debating whether you were even awake enough to get inside on your own. But the moment the car stopped, you stirred, blinking blearily at the windshield before frowning.

"This isn’t home."

Aaron’s stomach twisted because of course you didn’t see it that way. Even though you were there more than he was. Even though the house felt different when you were gone. Even though he thought of you as home.

He tried to push the thought aside. “Well, do you have your keys since you swapped bags with your friend?”

You frowned again, like you were trying to process his words but they were taking longer than usual to land. Then, after a moment, you groaned, slumping against the seat. "Shit. You’re right."

“Come on. Let’s get you inside.”

He stepped out first, rounding the car, but before he could even reach for your door handle, you had already pushed it open – or tried to.

Because your coordination was horrible.

The door swung open too fast and you nearly followed it.

Aaron caught you instantly, his reflexes sharp despite the late hour and lack of light.

“Easy, angel,” he cooed, the words slipping out before he could think better of them. They were gentle. Not the way he spoke to his agents. Not the way he spoke to anyone else.

His arm stayed secure around your waist, keeping you upright, while his other hand reached past you to shut the door.

And that was when you did it. Without thinking, without hesitation, you rested your hand on his chest as you leaned into him like you belonged there.

And damn it, it felt like you did.

He guided you carefully toward the front door, his hand never leaving your waist. This wasn’t the first time he’d led someone inside after a long night, but it was the first time he’d felt like this.

Once inside, he lowered you onto the couch, easing you down with so much care, like you were something fragile, something precious.

“Stay here.”

Aaron disappeared down the hall, moving toward the laundry room where he knew you kept a spare change of clothes for the nights you spent with Jack.

He was back in the living room within seconds, noticing the way you had kicked off your heels and curled yourself onto the couch.

Handing you the bundle of clothes, his fingers brushed yours for half a second, and he hated the way it made something in his chest tremble.

“Thank you.”

"Just get changed."

A sleepy grin tugged at your lips. "Yes, sir."

He clenched his jaw, ignored you, and turned toward the kitchen – because standing there any longer, watching you wrapped up in his sweater, looking at him like that, wasn’t something he could afford to do.

He heard you shifting behind him, the rustle of fabric, and then –

"Aaron?"

He stopped mid-step.

There was something different in your voice now, something smaller, something hesitant.

When he turned, he found you still in your dress, your arms wrapped loosely around yourself, his sweater now abandoned on the sofa.

"The zip." You turned your back to him. "Could you just undo it, please?" Your fingers pointed toward the back of your dress, granting him another view of something he had tried all night not to think about.

Wordlessly, he stepped forward, his fingers hovering briefly before carefully gathering your hair and sweeping it over your shoulder, baring the zipper to him completely.

He gripped the delicate thing between his fingers, and for a moment, he wasn’t sure if he had imagined the way you shivered beneath his touch. But as he pulled the zipper down, revealing the smooth expanse of your back, his suspicion was confirmed when he saw the goosebumps rise along your spine.

When the zipper reached the base of your spine, he let go, immediately stepping back, needing distance.

“You’re all set.”

You didn’t move right away, standing there with your back still to him, the dress loose around your frame, his sweater still abandoned on the sofa. Then, after a moment of stillness, you turned your head just slightly, just enough to glance at him over your shoulder.

"Thanks."

Aaron didn’t respond. He just turned and made it into the kitchen successfully this time, moving on autopilot, bracing his hands on the counter.

He was going to make you something to help with the inevitable headache you’d have in the morning, then he was going to go to bed, and by tomorrow, this would just be one more thing he’d force himself to forget.

By the time he had the bottle of painkillers and a glass of water in his hands, you were quiet. The kind of quiet that made him pause, his footsteps slowing as he neared the hallway.

He hesitated, listening carefully, trying to gauge if you had finished changing.

“Are you decent?” he called out.

“…Define decent.”

“Just tell me if I can come in.”

Another pause, then the sound of shifting fabric before you finally replied, "Yes, you can come in, Hotchner."

He stepped into the living room to find you sitting on the couch, legs tucked beneath you, your hair messy from the night.

“Take these, they should help with the headache.”

You took the glass, cradling it between your hands, but instead of drinking, you chewed the inside of your cheek.

"Is it a bad time to tell you that I’m a throw-up kind of drunk and not a headache kind of one?"

Aaron stared at you, expression completely and utterly blank. He’d dealt with some of the worst criminals the world had to offer, but nothing could have prepared him for you in this state.

“Are you going to be sick now?”

You tilted your head slightly, eyes unfocused but still completely earnest. "I don’t know… I don’t like thinking about it because then I get anxious, and then the anxiety makes me feel even worse." You frowned, looking up at him like you’d just personally inconvenienced his entire life. “I am so sorry.”

He sighed, crouching in front of you, resting his forearms on his knees. He should have been exasperated. He should have been frustrated. But in that moment all he felt was patience – one that seemed to only exist when it came to you.

"You don’t have to apologize," he assured you. "Let’s get you upstairs and closer to the bathroom."

Your lips parted before curving into a teasing smile. "You’re going to make me sleep in the bathroom?"

Aaron huffed a breath, shaking his head. "No. You can have my bed for the night. It’s more comfortable than being down here, and it’s less of a trip if you need to be sick."

You blinked at him, as if processing the words in slow motion. Then your smile softened. “You’re the best,” you whispered.

He tried to ignore the way those three simple words nestled themselves somewhere they shouldn’t.

"Come on, let’s get you to bed."

He helped you up carefully, keeping his hands steady as you swayed, still a little off balance from the alcohol. You leaned into him instinctively, far too trusting, and he had to remind himself that you weren’t thinking straight, that this could mean nothing in the morning.

By the time you made it to his room, you were half-asleep on your feet, blinking slowly as you took in the space around you.

Aaron pulled back the covers, gesturing for you to get in. "Go on. You need to sleep."

You hesitated, standing there, fingers toying with the hem of the oversized t-shirt you wore. “Will you stay? Just until I fall asleep?”

He should have said no. Should have reminded you that you were drunk, that this wasn’t a good idea, that you wouldn’t even remember asking in the morning.

But he didn’t.

Instead, he nodded.

"Okay."

You smiled sleepily, gratefully, before climbing into bed, curling up under the blankets.

Aaron sat down in the chair by the bedside, keeping some distance, his hands clasped loosely in his lap. For a while, neither of you spoke.

Then, just as your breathing started to slow, just as sleep almost took you, you mumbled, "You always take care of me."

Aaron let a breath out, watching as your body finally relaxed, as you drifted off entirely, safe and warm in his bed.

He wished he didn’t want to.

But he always would.

#aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner one shot #hotch #criminal minds #ssa aaron hotchner #nanny!reader x hotch

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littleslaywrites · 16 days ago

Text

back to school | aaron hotchner x reader

nsfw, mdni

based on this request

summary: your return to grad school plants a fantasy in hotch’s mind.

word count: 2k

cw: smut, f!reader, age gap, soft dom!hotch, unprotected sex, oral (f!receiving), biting, brief fingering (f!receiving)

You had been working as a nanny for the Hotchners going on three years now. After you completed undergrad, you felt unsure about the path you wanted to take, and ended up working for Aaron. It started out professional, but he became harder to resist as time went on. You’d started dating six months later. Aaron was always a gentleman, scared to ask you out at first, especially considering your age gap. But his profiling skills came in handy, quickly figuring out that your crushes were mutual.

Your relationship had grown over the past two and a half years. You loved your job, and you loved your boys. Aaron loved you in return, thankful he'd found someone so amazing for his family. At this point, you were part of the household, always around for movie nights and soccer games.

“What do you think of me going to grad school?” you blurted out one night. The two of you were snuggled up on the couch, a movie playing on a low volume, so as to not wake up Jack.

“I think you should do what you feel would be best for you.”

You groaned at his answer. It was so him, wanting you to make your own decision as if you hadn’t been trying to figure it out before you asked him.

“But what do you think,” you probe. “I mean, I’d be way busier, probably too busy to be around for Jack, and I’d probably go somewhere in D.C. but it’d still be a commute which means I’d see you less–”

“Honey,” he stops your rambling, “you can’t be a nanny forever. If you want to go back to school, I’ll completely support you.”

His words cause you to let out a sigh of relief. “Are you sure?”

“I’ll work around your schedule. We have relatives around for when you’re busy. I don’t want you to worry about me this much, you know.”

Of course you knew, but you still worried about him. It was an exchange you two had. You both worried about each other secretly.

Aaron always knew you’d go back to school. He was happy for you, excited that you’d finally found something you wanted to pursue in a career. Insisting on helping you through the whole process, he proofread your essay, looked over the questionnaire, and helped you debate between programs.

Even though he would never admit it, he might have had an ulterior motive. At the mention of going back to school, he couldn’t help but picture you in the stereotypical outfit, short skirts and ties. The thought made him blush, imagining you with your head in a book and your mind consumed with your studies.

So, when you called him asking for outfit advice before your first day, he tried to lead you in the direction of his fantasy. You settled on a button down and a skirt with a sweater over it. When you sent him a mirror selfie, he felt a rush of blood go to his cock, observing the socks that went all the way up to your knees. It’d be a long day of waiting for your classes to be over.

On your way home, you call him again, starting to tell him about all your classes. He stops you, suggesting that you come over and tell him everything in person. You obviously agree, wanting to see him at every chance you could get, especially if it meant he’d come home from the office at a normal time.

When you enter the house, you can smell something cooking in the oven. Jack is sitting at the counter as Aaron washes dishes.

“It smells good in here,” you say as you set your keys down by the door.

“Jack thought you’d want pizza after your first day of school.”

“He thought right.” You take a seat at the counter, watching Aaron set plates on the table.

You share stories of your day over dinner, comparing professors and describing all the topics covered. It was mostly syllabus discussion in your classes today, so there wasn’t much to say, but the boys were interested in all the small details.

After the meal, you washed the dishes while Aaron put Jack to bed. You hung your sweater over the back of a chair and undid the first few buttons of your shirt. Flopping on the couch, you didn’t notice Aaron staring as you lounged. You assumed he'd join you soon, finding some show that'd serve as background noise while you leaned on his shoulder and he did remaining paperwork. You were only pulled from your thoughts when he leaned down and whispered in your ear:

“Come to bed.”

You knew what he meant, as it was far too early to actually sleep. Following behind him, you close the door to the bedroom once you’re inside. You put your weight against it, leaning so you can rub your thighs together, already wet from the sight of him removing his tie in front of you.

“It’s a nice outfit,” he says, eyes roaming your body.

You smile, knowing the unspoken words behind the message. “My boyfriend was very helpful in choosing it.”

Returning your smile, he presses you against the door with a kiss. You close your eyes, letting his lips wash away anything in your mind other than him. His hands plant on either side of your head, supporting him as he leans against the door. He kisses you until you run out of breath, breaking apart to gasp for air.

“You’re such a tease,” Aaron lets out between gasps, “walking around in that short skirt.”

Reaching down, he touches you lightly over your panties. Only offering a whimper in response, your hips move slightly, wanting more than he’s giving you.

“I bet all the boys were looking at those pretty legs,” he whispers, giving your earlobe a nip. “But only I can have you.”

His touch has you needy for him, rockin into the finger that’s rubbing you through the soaked fabric. “Only you, Aaron.”

Your words make him groan. He slides your underwear down your legs, but doesn’t replace his hand.

“On the bed,” he commands. Needing more of him, you follow his orders. When he has you like this, you can’t help but do everything he says.

“Hands and knees.”

Crawling on the bed, you arch your back, wanting to give him the best view possible. The sigh he lets out is a sign you succeeded, and you wiggle your ass around to signal your need.

“Patience, pretty girl,” he coos. He leaves you waiting as he undresses completely. You wish you could see him, but you don’t want to disobey him.

Finally, his hands return to your body, flipping your skirt up to feel your ass. His touch is reverent, needing to explore every inch of your soft skin. The brushes of his fingers alternate between slow and fast, the variation giving you goosebumps. The warmth of his large hands provides a stark contrast to the cold room, and you feel yourself leaning into his palms as they run across your lower half. Unzipping it, he peels the skirt away from you.

Suddenly, he flips you around. The sight of him above you makes your pussy flutter. The lust in his eyes is overwhelming. He leans over you to unbutton your shirt. He goes slowly, savoring every inch of skin that’s slowly revealed, pressing kisses from your chest to your low stomach.

Peeling away your shirt, he places one more kiss on your collarbone before moving down to your legs. He runs his hands along your thighs, grabbing at the plush skin. He lays down in between your legs, holding them open as he dives into your pussy.

Just like his earlier touches, the way he eats you out is almost like worship. Aaron is always like this in bed, adoration evident in every gaze and whisper. Usually, he has a rhythm, but tonight, his mouth is sloppy. He’s moving from your clit to your cunt rapidly, needing to have his mouth all over you. He only moves away briefly to nuzzle your clit in that way he knows you love.

He pokes his tongue into your hole, and you move your hand down to his hair. The slight tug has him moaning, the vibrations adding to your pleasure. His tongue traces around your folds, following a pattern only he knows. When he licks a stripe up to your swollen clit, you buck your hips into his face. He doesn’t stop you, letting you rub against his mouth as he suckles where you’re the most sensitive. Your grip on his hair has him humping the sheet below him. If he had less control, he’d cum at the sight of you writhing against him.

One brush of his teeth against your bud has you teetering on the edge. Recognizing the whimpers that you mindlessly let out, he fills you with two of his fingers. The curl of them against your walls is enough to send you into your orgasm. Aaron doesn’t let up, thrusting his fingers as your juices cover his face. He only pulls away when you yelp from the overstimulation.

Pulling back, he places a kiss on your knee, just above the top of your socks. You think he’s going to take them off, but instead he moves up, removing your bra.

Wrapping a hand around your thigh, he brings it up so it’s pressed in between your bodies. He strokes himself a few times, taking in the image of you in your knee-high socks below him.

You let out a broken sob as he sinks into you. You’re still recovering from the orgasm from his mouth, so every ridge of his cock is perceptible. Any other day, he’d pause due to your sensitivity, but he’s too desperate to feel you.

Bottoming out, his tip grazes your cervix. He pauses, taking in the feeling of your warm walls around him. He doesn't even realize it when he starts to rock against you.

Coming to his senses, he pulls all the way out, watching the way you pulsate, wanting to grab him as tight as possible. Pushing back in, you cry out, feeling the twitch of his cock inside you.

He falls into a rhythm, one hand supporting himself while the other plays with your tit. He runs his thumb along the nipple, occasionally pinching when he wants to get a squeal out of you.

Closing his eyes, he loses himself in the feeling of you sucking him deeper. Your body responds to every thrust, clenching while your moans punctuate his movements.

You move your leg to wrap around him, needing him as close as possible. You hold him tight against your body, slowing down his thrusts. His cock drags against your g-spot, and you can feel the shape of his tip against your plush cunt.

Aaron’s breaths grow ragged and his rhythm becomes sloppy. Unable to hold back any longer, he bites down on your shoulder as he fills you up. The sensation sends you into your own release, grabbing him into a tight hug. He lets himself fall against you, holding you close and resting his forehead against yours. When you start to whine, he places a kiss on your forehead and pulls out.

When he lays on his back, you wrap yourself around him, cuddling despite your warmth. You had learned that you have to pull him as close as possible to keep him from escaping to find a washcloth and a glass of water. You appreciate him taking care of you, but want to keep him in his relaxed state for just a little longer.

“I think I should wear that outfit more often,” you say softly.

“Please do.”

You giggle at him, resting a hand against his chest. If this is how Aaron responds to you going back to school, you might never graduate.

#criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner one shot #aaron hotchner smut #aaron hotchner fanfiction #hotch #hotch smut #hotch x reader

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guilty-cheese · 26 days ago

Text

Aaron Hotchner x nanny!reader

author’s notes// Hey gang! I know you guys mostly know me for writing for one piece but I’m doing a re-watch of criminal minds and have become obsessed again. Need this grumpy old man so effing bad.

Synopsis: you are Jack’s nanny and Jack gets sick at school. Hotch is grateful to have you there to take care of him

content: age-gap (20smthn reader), sick kids, mentions of case, fem-bodied reader in mind, mentions of Haley

—————————————————————

You had been working for Aaron Hotchner for a couple months now. Ever since his wife passed and Haley’s sister moved back home, he needed extra support to take care of Jack. In need of employment and a place to stay you were thankful for your friend, Penelope, who put you two in touch.

It was awkward at first when you moved in after only a week of knowing about the family, but Jack took a liking to you almost instantaneously. That made the transition into your work life much easier.

The dynamic between the three of you was simple. You tended to Jack when Hotch was at work. Took care of all the chores, making sure dinner was made and Hotch’s suits were pressed and ready. When he came home you listened poured him a small drink and heated up his dinner. He never divulged any work details just hoping to keep work at the bau.

The day was pretty much normal. You woke up at 6 to make sure you were up in time to make Hotch his breakfast and coffee. He woke up got dressed and took his breakfast with him sparring a “morning” and a “thank you” before heading out.

You made Jack his breakfast and noticed he didn’t seem as cheery as usual. Shrugging it off you dropped him off and school and went back to do laundry.

In the middle of preparing the stew for dinner you got a call from Hotch. He never called you while he was at work so you picked it up confused.

“Mr. Hotchner?”

You waited until his voice came over the speakers, cool and quiet, “Can you please pick up Jack? The nurse called saying he was sick and needed to go home. I told them you were coming to get him.”

Your eyes widened in surprise, “Yes of course. I’m on my way.”

“Thank you. Please text me with updates on his condition. I’m on a case in New York right now and hope to be home by early tomorrow morning.”

You nodded, “Yes, of course sir. Stay safe.”

“I will. Goodbye.” And with a beep the call ended.

You put the phone down and went to go wash your hands and put away the cooking supplies.

When you got to the school and saw Jack looking miserable on the medical bed your heart sank. You went up to him and lightly shook him awake.

You smiled softly, “Hey Jackers. Let’s get you home.”

He groaned as he opened his eyes and saw you. He whispered your name and shivered. You frowned and picked him up in your arms and grabbed his school bag. You thanked the nurse and brought him to the car.

On the way back to the house you looked in the rear view mirror, Jack was slumped against the window.

“Jack how are you feeling bud?” You asked concerned.

Jack whimpered and with a weak voice said, “Head hurts, I feel cold, weak.”

“I’m so sorry buddy. We’ll be home soon and I’ll get you some medicine and soup okay?” You cooed.

“Mmkay,” he murmured.

Once at the house you brought him inside, “Go change into your warm pjs.”

Jack nodded and weakly walked over to his closet. You closed the door and went back to the kitchen to make some chicken broth. As you heated it up you knocked on his door and peaked in. He was curled up in bed and shivering. You went into his bathroom and got a cool washcloth and laid it on his head. Then you put another blanket over him and tucked him in.

“Jack, you think you can stay awake for 10 more minutes so I can get you soup and medicine?” You asked as you pushed his hair off his forehead.

He nodded and you got back up and went to the kitchen. Looking through the cabinets for medicine and coming up with nothing you found that Hotch probably had it in his medicine cabinet . You tentatively went into his room and into the connected bathroom. You nervously opened his medicine cabinet and avoided looking at any of the yellow pill bottles.

When you saw the brightly colored pink packaging of kid’s medicine you grabbed it and went back to the kitchen. You mixed the syrup in some juice and poured the soup into a bowl.

As you went back into Jack’s room you saw him resting his eyes. Gently kneeling down and tapping him, he looked up and noticed the juice and food.

“Here’s some chicken broth and some juice to hopefully make you feel better.”

“Thank you,” He said weakly.

You helped him sit up and held the bowl of soup as he slowly took sips from his spoon. Once he finished most of the soup and all the juice he leaned back.

You got up and grabbed his dishes.

“Can you stay?” He murmured.

Your eyes widened slightly, “Yeah of course. I’ll be right back.”

Once you rinsed the dishes you went back in his room and knelt back by his bed again. You took the now damp and warm washcloth off of his head and onto the nightstand.

“Book?” He asked.

“Want me to read to you?” You asked as you ran your hand through his hair.

He nodded.

“Any requests?” You asked as you continued to pet his hair.

“Mm..Holes”

“Holes?” You chuckled.

He nodded.

You stood up and looked for the book on his shelf. You found it and crouched back down by his bed and began reading.

Two chapters in Jack was asleep. His shivering quit and his chest rose normally. You were about to get up but Jack’s hand remained wrapped around your wrist. Not wanting to wake him up you set the book down on his nightstand and laid your head down on his comforter.

———————————————————————

Hotch had arrived home that same night. The case wrapped up quickly than anyone thought it would. He walked into the house and saw medicine packets and left over broth left out in the kitchen.

Setting down his duffel and hanging up his suit he walked into Jack’s room. As he walked into and saw you holding Jack’s hand and resting with him, his heart swelled.

He walked over to you and kneeled gently tapping you. You woke up with a sharp inhale and looked up to see him.

“Mr. Hotchner. You’re back.” You said as you rubbed your eyes.

“Hey, Y/N. How is he?” He asked.

Shaking the sleep from your head you put your hand on his forehead. “Fever seems to have gone down. And he’s not shivering anymore.”

“Let’s let him rest.” He said and offered you his hand. You smiled and grabbed it as he hoisted you up.

You followed him out of the room and into the kitchen. “Sorry for leaving the mess. I’ll get right to cleaning it up.”

“No, no. I couldn’t possibly ask you to do more right now. I’ve got it. You go and do what you want,” he said as he rolled up his sleeves.

You waved your hands, “No sir, you just got home from work. I just took a long nap. I should be cleaning this up while you relax. Please, I insist.”

“You sure?” He asked quirking a brow.

You smiled, “of course.”

He nodded and walked off to his room. You ran your hands over your face once more. You’d be lying if you said that he was not attractive. Living in his house didn’t help and sometimes you passed by his room while his door was cracked and caught sight of his bare torso.

Shaking off the thoughts you began your cleaning duties. As your were finishing up cleaning the counter Hotch walked back out into the living room and laid down on the couch.

You wiped down the counter one last time and then joined him on the couch. He was looking over a case file, brows scrunched in thought. “How was the case?”

He soared a glance over at her, “Thankfully quick.”

“That’s good. One less psycho out there,” you commented.

“Mm.” He nodded.

With the coming silence you went on your phone. Scrolling through friend’s posts you were thinking of something to talk about.

“Thank you by the way,” he suddenly said.

“Hm. For what?” You asked as you looked over at him.

“For all that you do for us,” he said simply.

You smiled, “It’s literally my job Mr. H. No big deal whatsoever.”

He looked over at you, “You know you can call me Aaron.”

Your eyes widened slightly, “I’d feel weird though.”

He raised the corners of his lips slightly, “I feel weird when you call me “Mr. H” or Mr. Hotchner.”

You smiled, “Didn’t think of that. Okay, Aaron.”

A rare smile adorned his face before he went back to the case file. For the rest of the night the two of you sat in comfortable silence. All was well in the Hotchner house.

#criminal minds #cm #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #bau team #behavioral analysis unit #thomas gibson

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samuel-de-champagne-problems · 7 months ago

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Handle With Care - Aaron Hotchner x Reader

Summary: Reader and Aaron meet for the first time before she starts as a full-time nanny for Jack.

Notes: Hopefully will be at least 5 parts! I'm excited to be writing again :)

Word Count: 4.6K

I always believed in new beginnings, but as I stood on Aaron’s doorstep, rolling a suitcase in one hand and a Vera Bradley duffel bag in the other, I was tempted to question my resolute thinking. It had yet to fail me. Not when I was hardly eighteen and living on the other side of the country, vying for my spot at the esteemed culinary arts program. And not when I’m twenty-four with a stint as the private chef

Professional chef turned nanny–for my father’s beloved mentee, no less. My parents, ever supportive and ever loving, practically held an intervention when I showed up on their suburban door step a fractured shell of the bubbly daughter they dropped off at the airport.

Five years later, I’m sleeping in the same bed. I had nightmares about leaving once again. And yesterday I gave up that bed for a full-time position as Aaron Hotchner’s live-in nanny. Aaron, who I never even met, is my father’s protege. He knew him as a whip-smart, young lawyer from a family Law dynasty at Quantico. My father took him under his wing and even after his early retirement from the BAU they would get together for an annual work lunch.

I was nearly finished with my final year of the Los Angeles Culinary Arts Program when my fathers called to say that Aaron’s wife was murdered. I remembered thinking how lucky Dad was and how brave Daddy had to be. With one day off saving the world and the other left to hold down the fort with an awfully anxious only child daughter.

One year later, I was unemployed and completely blacklisted from the culinary entertainment industry for reasons beyond my control and without my fault. I gripped the suitcase, my chipped fingernails so jagged they punctured my skin.

Aaron had a nice house with a manicured front lawn, a big wrap around porch, and a fully furnished backyard. Clearly, he was a man with a lot of education and a lot of smarts to top it off. He worked hard. It showed, these neighborhoods of Arlington, Virginia weren’t cheap. No wonder my dads were dying to relocate to Georgia.

The door swung open before I could work up the courage to ring the bell or knock on the dark cherry wood. Aaron answered. He wore a dark green men’s quarter zip that was pushed up, showing off his forearms. His dark, charcoal gray watch shone as he let me into his foyer.

He had a foyer.

And a house that smelt like warm cinnamon and musk.

“Y/N,” Aaron said, nodding to me with a smile, “Please give me your bags. And we’ll go sit and chat before Jack comes. His grandma is still in town and brought him to the zoo.”

I complied. There wasn’t a need for me to protest. And clearly, by the looks of those forearms, he would have no problem handling my bags. I only brought a single suitcase, a duffel, and five boxes of books. Aaron’s mother-in-law, Lorriane, had been staying with them since Haley died a year and a half ago. But her husband broke his hip. Apparently, Aaron had added a mother-in-law suite for Lorriane and judging by the looks of his home, the suite I’d be living in for the foreseeable future was twice the size of my studio in LA.

“Thanks.” I said, grabbing a seat on the brown fabric sofa, “My dad said I had to say hello to you for him. He still raves about you. Like all the time.” I chuckle, watching as Aaron hands me a glass of iced tea.

“Marty’s a good man. He and Gideon built the Behavioral Analysis Unit. Our team is in constant debt to him.” Aaron spoke so formally, gesturing for enthusiasm with his hands.

“Yeah, well. He’s always just been dad to me.” I smiled, the man I knew showed up to my field hockey games even if it meant holding office hours there. He was the most there dad I could ask for– maybe it was neck in neck for the both of them.

“So Jack?” I said, breaking the silence. “How–how’s he been?” I couldn’t help but wonder. My dads had a close friend who helped them with their surrogacy journey, so while I didn’t have a mother in the traditional sense, the woman who I’ m half of was still alive and in my life. Debra was more like an aunt to me, fun and spirited and eternally youthful. But I still had her.

Unlike Jack, who’s Earthly ties to his mother were shredded in an horribly violent way.

My dad hardly ever cried, but when he called and told me that Aaron’s wife died I could hear it in his raw voice. Aaron’s a man cut from the same cloth a Dad; stoic and responsible. He was a wall of somber trepidation, but somewhere deep inside I could make out the man that wasn’t cataclysmically destroyed.

“Jack is…he’s a strong kid. I put him in therapy after it happened. He still goes once a week. Laura, she’s his therapist. She’s wonderful. Truly has helped Jack work through all this.”

“That’s good. That’s really good, Mr. Hotchner. It seems as though Jack has a solid foundation here.” I say, unsure what to say exactly. I can make an omelet six different ways, yet it’s lost on me to know what to say to a widower with a little boy. If I had to bear even a fraction of their grief, I’m sure it would break me. I would crumble. But these two boys? They’re a good man in the storm. And I know in my bones, it’s entirely Aaron’s doing. If that man is anything, he’s steady.

“It’s Aaron. Please, Mr. Hotchner reminds me of my father.” He cringes, the lines on his eyes creasing, “Your dad said you’re a professionally trained chef? Unfortunately, Jack’s still squarely in the dinosaur shaped chicken nugget and baked tater tots phase. It’s been a struggle to get him to try anything new…for…for awhile now, if I’m being honest.”

I nod, thinking that Jack’s food discouragement might stem from losing his mom. “Well, the way I see it, Jack lost his mom at how old? Four and half? That’s when we’re starting to really know what we like and don’t like to eat. His life was turned upside down and shaken all around when you lost her. So maybe he needed some consistency in a world of chaos. Not that your home is chaotic, it’s lovely and clean and happy. It’s just…loss…”

“Losing your mother as a toddler really fucks up your life.” Aaron says. He speaks so definitely, as if he means everything so ardently you could cast it into stone.

“Yeah.” I add, somberly. “But I think we can get him to branch out. Make it a game. I’d love to cook with him. I can get him kid-safe tools so he can be involved in food preparation and cooking. Oh! Maybe Jack and I can have a garden. I’m sure that will get him eating vegetables and fruits.”

Aaron’s neutral expression slowly transitions to a soft smile. He thumps his fingers on the wooden table, as he looks out through the deck. I could feel him glance back at me and then to the yard again.

“I think that a garden would be lovely over on the side. It’s far enough away from the pool and patio.” Aaron offers, sipping his tea. It’s sweet tea, too sweet for me. Working in kitchens throughout my program has trained me to not only tolerate black coffee, but to actively seek it out. He smiles, his grin defining his face. “Good idea.”

I feel heat at his praise. I like doing well, who doesn't? But after a series of mishaps and bad luck, an 'atta' girl is my Hail Mary of the month. I simply nod. “Simple things to start so he can see some quick results. I’ll get him super involved in it. Make him feel like he’s a part of a team.”

“I work a lot. My team flies across the nation, as you know. It takes me away from here for days on end. It was getting too much for Lorriane. And how her husband broke his hip.” Aaron shakes his head, “Honestly, you couldn’t have shown up here at a better time.”

He runs his pointer finger over the water rung pooled on the coasters. “Jack’s a very easy kid. Reasonable. But shy. He was shy even before Haley…even before last year. I’ve brought him to the pediatrician because he stopped talking for a while, but she said that we’ve all survived an immense trauma and our brains simply process and live through that trauma differently.”

Sitting there, I couldn’t help but think how lucky this little boy is. His dad was running up the hill; pushing that boulder up and up and up for an eternity. It must be an awfully lot to carry, without anyone to share the load.

“Yeah. I’m sure it is? Is he going into Kindergarten after the summer?” I ask, wondering if Jack went to Kindergarten on time or if Aaron and his grandma kept him home when they lost Haley.

“Lori, Haley’s mother, taught preschool for thirty-five years. She told me to keep him home for a year, let him be a little bit older and get the help he needs to heal and then send him. So I listened. I think that was one of the only decisions I made as a team this year.”

Sympathy must have colored my face because Aaron’s demeanor shifted quickly. He sat up, sipping his iced tea and wiping his hands on his jeans. “So basically your weekdays are around 8am-7:30pm. And occasionally on the weekends when the team does have to be on location But recently, I’ve been trying to transition to a more leadership position at headquarters. Hopefully, that’ll mean less traveling.”

I quickly journaled the hours down in my notebook. Live-in nannying hours are not for those looking for a job to allow them the life of leisure. Naturally that couldn’t possibly be true for a position whose main coworker is a five and a half year old boy.

“Alright. So that’s summer hours. We’ll need to brainstorm lots of stuff to do all day. Maybe the library?” I write a small note to get ideas and have them approved by Aaron.

He nodded, “Yes, summer hours are a lot, but Jack will be going to a couple camps that his therapist recommended. So you can get a couple hours each day to yourself. I am ready to compensate accordingly. Between my new role at the BAU and other personal investments, we live comfortably. How’s $2,500 to start and then we’ll discuss a raise in the future. And naturally your room and anything you may want to eat or have will be covered by me.” Aaron says it again in a way that leaves no room for argument. He must’ve been a great lawyer; no wonder dad adores him.

“That’s quite a lot of money.” I’m shocked and my face does a horrible job of hiding it. “I’m not a professional nanny. I’m good with kids. Really good. But I don’t do this for a living. This is you doing me a favor because if it wasn’t for you, I’d be a waitress at my dads’ country clubs” I cringed, my mind instantly filtering in an image of me serving one-time sorority sisters bottomless mimosas for an Easter Brunch.

“I apologize if you though that it was up for discussion, Y/N. Your first month’s pay will be $2,500 each week. And then it will increase to $3,250 each week. If I’m asking you to work 13 hour days plus one weekend a month? I better be paying you that much. And you’re still on Marty’s health insurance?”

I rolled my eyes, of course dad mentioned that to Aaron and of course Aaron double checked. Aaron just might have Marty, JD beat when it comes to thoroughness. “Yeah, till I’m 26. And that’s like…a year and change away.” I say, implying that it’s not up to me, or Aaron even, to know how long I’ll be with him. I wasn’t sure if I would ever venture out to LA again; not after what happened that sent me back here for good.

But the thing about food is that everyone wants good food, no matter where they live. And right now, the ones that wanted something good in their lives, lived in a lovely Colonial home on Moss Avenue.

“I guess there’s no arguing with you, prosecutor.” I say, my voice increasing just so that it balances the line between teasing and something else…something else I should be too ashamed to admit.

It elicited a smile from him and all of the sudden it was completely worth it. Aaron finishes his tea, and places it into the sink after dumping the remaining ice chips down the drain.

“Non-negotiable. It’s in your contract. Along with a health insurance package should you need to go off Marty’s name. Plus all that tax information that I’ll get you someone to walk you through it.” Aaron explained.

“Thank you.” I replied, grateful that it was both all above the table and that I would be given the resources to help me figure it out. Looking at the pile of paperwork in my lap, I was sure that if Aaron didn’t offer legal literacy assistance I would be way in over my head. “That’s wonderful. Really.”

“I just…I just want my son to be a good kid with a good childhood. That’s all. I want to be there for him and if I’m not there, I want the next best thing there. You know?” Aaron said and I’m not sure if it’s a plea or statement. Or if it was stuck somewhere in the middle; lost at sea like Aaron was himself. An island unto himself, drifting as the tide rolled in.

I break the silence. “What was Haley’s favorite meal?”

Aaron smiled. His eyes, crinkling again. “She had chicken piccata on our first date. And we ate it at our wedding. And when she found out she was pregnant with Jack she made it for me.” I nodded, understanding the important link between food and memories.

“Let’s make it. For Jack and you and Lorianne to share tonight before she leaves. It’s going to be a big transition for him to go from having grandma all the time to me, someone very new.” I expressed, hoping that I didn’t sound bossy or as if I wanted to parent Jack myself.

“That’s a lovely idea, Y/N.” Aaron sighed. “But I never was much of a chef. I wouldn’t know the first place to start.”

He leaned his hands against the table, a slight smile breaking the formidable since that had fallen between us in the moments before. I smiled back, standing from the table to reach my tote bag.

I pulled out an apron, the kind that criss crossed over my back. It was denim blue with a canvas front and large pockets.

“Move over,” I said, tying my apron, “It might be your kitchen, Aaron, but for tonight you’re kicked out”

The chicken ended up being more chicken piccata adjacent than a true representation of the dish. I mixed a seasoned blend of flour and spices for the dredging. Then, butterflied and pounded the chicken breasts into thin pieces.

Aaron’s kitchen was spacious and airy. There was a large island with barstools on one side and lots of pantry and cupboard space on the other. I stood at the island, dredging the chicken in seasoned flour before placing it nearly on paper towel lined trays. The chicken, thinned and butterflied, didn’t take long to cook in the oil and butter.

I let the skillet heat up till the oil, butter, garlic, and capers produced a mouthwatering aroma. Aaron gave me a bottle of white wine, imperative to make the sauce taste even better. I added freshly squeezed lemon juice and lemon slices to the pan sauce, letting the brown bits cook a little bit more. I scraped the edges of the skillet, incorporating the sauce even more.

I placed the chicken back into the pan, letting it absorb the lemony, garlicky flavor of the sauce. The sauce thickened, forming something that was similar enough to chicken piccata. I added a bit more butter to the pan, along with some lemon. I figured that it would stretch a little bit more for some sauce for the pasta on the side.

The chicken was simmering in the pan and the pasta water nearly boiling, when Jack came home. He looked like his father, but must have gotten his lighter colored hair and eyes from his mother.

Aaron walked into the kitchen with Jack, his hands resting on Jack’s shoulders protectively. Jack’s shy demeanor was evident as he peered over at me. I smiled and waved as I finished the pasta.

“Jackie, this is Ms. Y/N.” Aaron introduced me to the young boy, who stood shyly by his father. “We talked about how Grandma Lorraine needs to go back home. And we’re gonna have a friend come and live here.”

Jack nodded, his little mind clearly spinning and spinning to make sense of all this. He was clearly well adjusted, even for losing his mother at such a young age.

“Hey, there Jack!” I smiled. “I made a good dinner for you and your dad. I heard you went to the zoo with Grandma. I love the zoo. Especially the tigers.”

Jack nodded, eagerly walking around the kitchen island to talk about the zoo. “Yeah,” he said, “I liked the monkeys. They were funny. The babies were learning to climb and jump.”

I nodded, plating up some food for Jack. “Super cool. They’re kinda like little people. The way they act and play.” I placed the plate on the counter. “I used the Cars plate. It was way too cool not to.” I crouched down and whispered to Jack, “Just make sure your dad doesn’t swipe it. Between you and me I can see him eying it from here.”

Aaron chuckled, reaching high to grab not one, but two plates. He handed one to me before telling Jack to go sit for dinner. “You’re joining us. It’ll be good for us to get to know one another.”

“I don’t want to intrude.”

“Nothing you do would be an intrusion. And it’s good for Jack to see that we’re friends. He’ll be more trusting of you.”

I nodded, understanding that it was very important for Jack to become used to me. Especially considering Aaron’s job could take him away for days at a time.

“Alright.”

Aaron nodded. “Sit. I’ll get your plate.”

There was an understanding that washed over me. An understanding that Aaron was the kind of man that didn’t ask for things. He was simply used to things he wanted being carried out. I envied that security. Maybe if I had even an ounce of it I would still be hacking it out in LA. Or maybe I wouldn’t have needed to figure it out because I would’ve figured it out already.

Jack and Aaron went back and forth, swapping facts about dinosaurs. Jack was squarely in the dinosaur phase. Five minutes in, and I already had promised to help him find a dinosaur coloring book, with dinosaurs besides just the “cool ones”.

“Uncle Spencer says that some dinosaurs had heads as big as a car!” Jack said, practically shrieking with excitement as he recounted all the facts a certain Uncle Spencer had told him.

“Uncle Spencer’s so smart. And he’s a kid!” Several of Jack’s stories started with the aforementioned Uncle Spencer and I couldn’t help but wonder where the connection lay. Especially if, like Jack claimed, Spencer was a child. Sometimes some cousins are so far apart in age they’re more like an aunt or an uncle. Perhaps this was the case.

“Spencer is on my team.” My face must have shown my confusion. I always wore my emotions and thoughts on my sleeves, something that failed me several times over. Most notably when my friends in LA would get hit on by men at bars in the most vile of ways. One of the blessings of being deemed unapproachable by men was being left alone, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t burdened by their lack of tact in seducing women. “And he’s 28…yes about 28 now, and has been on the team since he was 23. He’s brilliant. Jason Gideon, who worked with Martin, scouted him when he was hardly 21. His mind works in ways that are simply unexplainable.”

“Which means he must have some pretty sick dino facts?” I ask, my question causing a prickly smile to appear on Aaron’s face. Jack giggles, he must enjoy seeing his father smile. It seems that even though the boys find themselves moving alone, smiles are few and far between. Especially from the elder Hotchner.

“And three phDs.” Aaron cut the rest of Jack’s chicken, sliding his plate over and reminding him to at least try the vegetables. “It’s like these kids are getting younger as fast as they are getting smarter. Sometimes I just look at Spencer and my knees hurt. Then again, I’m pretty sure I would beat him in anything athletic. Even though he’s much younger.”

I raised my brow instinctively, smiling. “Was that a joke?” I deadpanned. “My dad said you made two jokes the entire time he knew you. And the first was…”

I stopped myself short. But it was far too late. Aaron, like myself and my father, knew when the first joke he made to my father was. His wedding day. My father had long retired, and moved his mind and soul far, far away from the BAU. He trusted Aaron and Gideon to handle it. Instead he decided to live as himself, freely with his husband and their daughter in the suburbs.

If there was one thing that I shouldn’t have done the first night working with a nanny family consisting of a widower and his son, it was to bring up the marriage of the widower.

When Aaron married his late wife, Haley. My fathers attended, but I didn’t even remember. It must’ve been one of those times that Nana would sleepover. I remembered it was painting nails, ordering Chinese, and watching Walker, Texas Ranger and Family Feud. I remembered it as falling asleep to my Nana’s snoring as Home Shopping Club glowed on her ancient TV set and waking up to her chocolate chip pancakes. My father remembers it was the first time his young protege made a joke. And Aaron remembers it was the day he married the love of his life.

“Daddy?” Jack said, cutting through the silence, “I don’t like veggies. They’re too mushy.”

“Don’t eat them, bud.” Aaron, murmured, his voice laced with a guard that I hadn’t noticed till now. It was careful, like he crafted each tone and cadence before he spoke. “We’ll figure it out, Jack. Come on, let’s show Ms. Y/N her room. Where she’ll be staying.”

Each sentence is clipped and calculated. I nod, smiling as Jack stands next to his father.

“I’ll clean up.”

Aaron nodded, thanking me as he took Jack up to get ready for bed. Minutes later, the kitchen was back to normal and a couple extra meals were packed away for leftovers. I left a note on the counter for Aaron in the morning.

Lunch is in the fridge.

I always like to make extras!

Have a nice day

Y/N

Aaron returned, without Jack. “You didn’t have to do the whole kitchen. I don’t expect that. This isn’t a housekeeping job, it’s taking care of Jack.”

“I don’t mind. Being a chef…or I was a chef, as much as a pain in the ass cleaning and dishes can be sometimes it’s a good way to finish it all. I don’t know…I don’t make sense.” I chuckled, trailing off in a rambly way that fully gave away my nerves. My previous blunder had shaken me, especially since Aaron seemed completely unnerved, even though I knew it stung.

“I suppose, sometimes I used to stay late to do all the paperwork, even though the interns usually will do it for us.” Aaron wipped his hands on his pants.“Anyway, let me show you to the room. I had it cleaned over the weekend and put Lorianne up at a hotel for a couple nights so there wouldn’t be any issues or crossover.”

Aaron led me through the rest of the house. It was neat and tidy and I didn’t expect anything else from someone like Aaron, even though he does have a young, energetic son. There was just something meticulous about him. Something so put together and careful. And then there was me. Messy and complicated and unsure and terrified. Anyone would be that after having the carpet pulled out from under them. And I couldn’t name a bigger carpet than having to bury your life.

There was a locked door that led to what Aaron explained as my private area. “Jack and I won’t come over here. From the time that I get home in the evenings, or frankly, some days, till I leave in the mornings is your own. This is your spot in the house, but my housekeepers that come twice a month will clean in here, if you’d like.”

I nodded, grateful for that added bonus. The small attachment was the size of a studio apartment. There was a kitchenette with a nook tucked into the corner with the windows. The furniture matched the rest of the house, clearly Aaron had spared no expense to add this attachment. The queen sized bed was pushed up against the wall and nestled into the corner. Next to it was a nightstand with a lamp. And, as I turned the corner, was the crowning jewel.

“Are those built–ins?” I asked, staring in disbelief. “Those are so gorgeous. I have like, easy, a ton, of books. God! Can I use them?” I turned, practically jumping from joy as Aaron chuckled reluctantly.

“Of course. This room’s yours.” Aaron must’ve carried my bags into the bedroom while I was cooking because all of my belongings sat on the floor near the set of love seats and armchair. “I’ll leave you to get settled. 8:30 okay for tomorrow?”

I nodded, stunned beyond belief as I opened my boxes of books. Aaron handed me a set of keys, one to the house, the shed, and the other to my area of the house.

“You’re the only one that has a copy. If you want others made, I’ll cover the expense.” Aaron explained. “Have a good night, Y/N.”

“Good night,” I replied, hooking the keys onto my set. “And thank you for this room. It’s nicer than my apartment in LA.”

Aaron leaned against the doorframe, “Of course, I think Jack'll be very happy. It’s been hard to trust others. With him, honestly…Jack’s all I got left.” I had known Aaron for about three hours, heard stories of his skill and professionalism and talent for years, but he wasn’t someone that I had known, let alone even met. But in those three hours, I could count several times where I saw a sliver of emotions.

“I’ll leave you to it.”

“Night.”

“And Y/N?” Aaron said, stopping me as I reach down to start shelving books, “Food does hold memories. You’re right. I needed it. We did. Jack and I. He needs to remember her.”

“Food has memories.” I said, shrugging, “You’re gonna have to learn I know more than you think I do.”

Taglist

@reidsbookclub @boldlyvoid @pear-1206 @this-is-calm-and-its-anne @little-jana @pastelpinkflowerlife @sarcasm-and-stiles @ilovefictionalmennn

#criminal minds #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #my writing #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch fanfiction #aaron hotch hotchner

296 notes · View notes

reidmarieprentiss · 7 months ago

Text

Bridges to Belonging

Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven

Summary: Y/n needed a new gig to bring in a little extra cash while she finished her PhD research at the hospital. The Hotchners are looking for a nanny for their infant son, Jack.

Spencer is not in this part, just introducing Y/n to the team!

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: Backstory

Warnings/Includes: none!

Word count: 1.3k

a/n: hi!! i am so back in my spencer reid shit it is insane. here goes me writing a self indulgent fanfic because i can't get this idea out of my head. let me know what you think!!

main masterlist

Washington, D.C. - Spring 2005

The small conference room at the hospital was dimly lit, the faint hum of fluorescent lights overhead. Y/n L/n sat at the long table, reviewing her notes for her dissertation on child psychology. The hospital had been her second home for the past few years, a place where she could immerse herself in her research while pursuing her passion for helping children.

As she packed up her things, her phone buzzed with a text message from a friend, forwarding a job listing.

*Nanny needed for newborn. Reliable, experienced, and patient. Contact Haley Hotchner at [xxx-xxx-xxxx].*

Y/n considered the opportunity, her mind calculating the benefits of having some extra income while she completed her PhD. Besides, she loved working with children. After a moment’s thought, she dialed the number.

“Hello, this is Haley Hotchner,” a warm voice answered.

“Hi, Haley, my name is Y/n L/n. I’m calling about the nanny position. I’m currently finishing my PhD in psychology and have experience working with children,” Y/n explained, her voice steady but hopeful.

“Wonderful! We’re looking for someone who can become part of our family, especially with Aaron’s demanding job. Can we meet for an interview?” Haley asked, her tone inviting and sincere.

“Of course, I’d love to,” Y/n replied, feeling a flutter of excitement at the prospect.

---

Y/n arrived at the Hotchner residence a week later, it was a quaint home in a quiet neighborhood. She took a deep breath and knocked on the door, smoothing her hair as she waited. The door opened to reveal a smiling Haley Hotchner, holding a sleeping baby in her arms.

“You must be Y/n! Come in, please,” Haley greeted her warmly.

As Y/n stepped inside, she felt an immediate sense of comfort and belonging. The home was cozy, filled with family photos and the soft scent of baby powder.

Haley led Y/n to the living room, where Aaron Hotchner sat, looking relaxed in casual clothes, a stark contrast to his usual suits. He stood to shake her hand, his demeanor polite and welcoming.

“It’s nice to meet you, Y/n,” Aaron said, his handshake firm but friendly. “Haley has told me good things about you.”

“Thank you, Mr. Hotchner. It’s a pleasure to meet you both,” Y/n replied, smiling as she sat down.

“Please, call me Aaron,” he insisted, exchanging a glance with Haley.

The interview was less formal than Y/n had anticipated. Aaron and Haley asked her about her studies, her experience with children, and her aspirations. She, in turn, learned about their lives, Aaron’s work with the FBI, and their hopes for raising Jack in a loving environment.

“We’re really looking for someone who can be a part of Jack’s life as he grows,” Haley explained, gently rocking Jack in her arms. “Someone we can trust.”

Y/n nodded, feeling a connection with the couple. “I’d love to be that person. Working with children is my passion, and I think I could learn a lot from Jack, too.”

Aaron smiled, looking at Haley before turning back to Y/n. “We’d like to offer you the position, Y/n. If you will take it, we want to welcome you to the family.”

Y/n beamed, feeling a warmth spread through her chest. “Thank you, Aaron, Haley. I promise to do my best for Jack and your family.”

---

Over the next two years, Y/n became an integral part of the Hotchner household. She cared for Jack with a dedication that went beyond her job description, forming a bond with the infant that was almost maternal. She found herself spending evenings with Haley, talking about life, love, and dreams. Aaron, despite his demanding job, always made time to catch up with Y/n, appreciating her insight into Jack’s development and her ability to connect with people. As Jack neared his second birthday, Y/n knew her time as his nanny was coming to an end. He was ready to start preschool, and she had secured a position at the hospital as a child psychologist. Yet, leaving the Hotchners felt like leaving a part of her own family.

On her last day as Jack’s nanny, Y/n sat in the backyard with Haley, watching Jack play in the autumn leaves.

“We’re going to miss you, Y/n,” Haley said, her voice tinged with sadness. “You’re like a sister to us.”

Y/n smiled, touched by Haley’s words. “I’m going to miss you all too. You’ve been my family here.”

Haley nodded, tears in her eyes. “Promise you’ll visit? Jack will need his Aunt Y/n around.”

“Always,” Y/n promised, her heart full. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

---

Life moved on, but Y/n never lost touch with the Hotchners. She visited often, spending time with Jack as he grew into a lively toddler. Her work at the hospital kept her busy, but she cherished the moments she could steal away to see them.

One evening, as she was leaving the hospital, her phone buzzed with a text from Aaron.

We’re going out for drinks to celebrate a closed case. Care to join us?

Y/n smiled at the invitation, feeling a warmth at the thought of seeing Aaron and meeting his team. She quickly replied.

I’d love to! Where should I meet you?

---

Y/n walked into the bar, scanning the room for a familiar face. She spotted Aaron standing with a group of people, all engaged in animated conversation.

As she approached, Aaron waved her over, a rare smile on his usually serious face.

“Y/n! Glad you could make it,” Aaron greeted, introducing her to the team. “Everyone, this is Y/n L/n. She used to be Jack’s nanny and is basically family.”

Y/n smiled and waved, feeling a mix of excitement and nerves. “Hi, everyone! It’s great to meet you all.”

Penelope Garcia, the team’s tech-savvy and flamboyant analyst, immediately stepped forward, her eyes bright with curiosity. “Oh my gosh, I love your outfit! Finally, someone who appreciates the art of pink as much as I do!”

Y/n laughed, relieved by Penelope’s enthusiasm and excited to have her brand new top appreciated. “Thank you! I knew I’d find a kindred spirit.”

Jennifer “JJ” Jareau, the team’s communications liaison, offered a warm handshake. “Aaron’s told us a lot about you. It’s nice to finally meet the woman who kept him sane during those early days.”

“Glad to be here,” Y/n replied, feeling welcomed.

Emily Prentiss, with her confident and approachable demeanor, chimed in. “So, you survived being a Hotchner family member? You deserve a medal.”

Y/n grinned, appreciating the camaraderie. “It wasn’t so bad. I’m just glad I didn’t have to deal with any of Aaron’s work stress.”

Derek Morgan, the charming and confident agent, leaned back with a smirk. “If you ever want to switch from psychology to profiling, we could use someone with your skills.”

Y/n laughed, shaking her head. “I’ll leave the profiling to you guys. I’m happy helping kids find their way.”

David Rossi, the seasoned agent with a love for fine wine and stories, raised his glass in a toast. “To new friends and old family.”

Y/n joined in the toast, feeling a sense of belonging with this eclectic group. As the night wore on, she found herself bonding with each team member, sharing stories and laughter. They talked about everything from childhood dreams to favorite music, forming connections that would last beyond this night.

As the evening wound down, Derek leaned over with a grin. “You’ll have to meet our boy wonder next time. Spencer’s a little shy, but I have a feeling you two would get along.”

Y/n nodded, intrigued by the prospect of another lively team member to add to her seemingly growing list of friends. “I’d like that. I’ve heard a lot about him.”

Emily chimed in, a playful glint in her eyes. “Spencer’s one of a kind. You’ll see what we mean.”

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