#aaron judge imagines

[burkhxrts]

౨ৎ aaron judge masterlist

♫ now playing how to disappear by lana del rey

⇢ 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒

none yet!

⇢ SERIES

imgonnagetyouback!

⇢ 𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓𝐒

none yet!

[luveline]

I love ur writing 💕 can I request something where reader is dense sortof/has low self esteem, so she likes hotch, admires him and would love to date him but can't imagine he would view her that way,, so he has to be really obvious with his advances? Not self indulgent at all 👉👈 no worries if not. Love u!

Hotch has to break the news that he’s been pursuing you. fem, 2k

Hotch would like to call you unassuming in the kindest way possible. Unassuming, in that not everyone who looks at you would find themselves immediately aware of your beauty (an old-fashioned way to put it, and true), because your poor self esteem leaves you shy. 

You don't believe anyone would want you. It doesn’t matter to Hotch beyond a weary heartbreak for you, as he doesn’t mind if it takes time to convince you. He only wishes you’d have more confidence. You’re pretty and you deserve to know it. 

“Hello,” he says, with intent to try again. 

You like him. He’s a grown man and a good judge of character, better of action, and he’d like to think that your sudden grimace whenever he speaks is again this cloud of insecurity rather than a true dislike for him. You have to warm up to him every day, but you do warm. 

“Hi, Hotch.” 

And listen, he’s not one to flirt at work, but if he ever wants a real shot with you, he has to be heavy-handed. “Hi,” he repeats, smiling, “how are things today?” 

You’re assistant office administrator for the BAU, and so Hotch isn’t technically your boss, but you do work beneath him. “Things are the same as always.” 

“Not too hard for you, then.” 

You catch his teasing, which is a new development. “Not too hard for me,” you say.

He doesn’t pretend he has reason to hang around. He thinks it might’ve contributed to you not believing he’s interested; he’d drop by with coffee because you seemed tired, or checked in on issues that didn’t need his supervision, and you’d taken every extra minute spent at your door as his attentiveness to his job, rather than an affection for you.

He stands with his hand on the doorway and just looks at you. 

“What’s wrong?” you ask.

“You look beautiful today.” 

You touch the button at your neck. “It’s too much for work.” 

“No.” You’re wearing normal business casual clothing. You’ve pulled a necklace over your sweater, soft collar of a shirt kissing your throat. He imagines you’re wearing regular pants and flats or maybe a skirt and short heels beneath the desk, it doesn’t matter. “It’s not just what you’re wearing. You look pretty.” 

You could catch flame if something sparked near you. Lost, your lips part, and eventually you squeeze out a timid, “Thank you, Hotch.” 

 “Aaron.” 

“I don’t think so.” 

“Can we get coffee?” He dislikes the panic in your eyes and regrets how casual he sounded. “Can I get you a coffee?” 

“I’m okay.” 

“Well, maybe we can take lunch together?” 

“Have I done something?” 

“Have you?” he asks. 

He feels… young. Haley was the only woman he’d been with at a time, and casually there have been others now, but you’re the first woman he’s attempted to woo like this. He sometimes forgets that you’re shy and that he’s been married, distracted by his fizzing, almost joyful feelings for you. Flirting with you is a pleasure. 

You lick your lips quickly. “Where did you want to go? For lunch?” 

He was thinking you could bring your sandwich to his desk, but what you’re asking is a thousand times better. “Where do you want to go? Melanie’s?” he suggests. 

You breathe out in a strange laugh. “For lunch?” 

No, perhaps not. It’s rather fancy. “Somewhere nice, at least,” he says. 

“I don’t know where’s nice.” 

“Well, we can find somewhere. I’ll try to find somewhere before one, what do you think?” 

“Okay.” 

He smiles. “Okay.” 

He’s pulling away from the doorway when you stand up from your rolling chair and say his name, a near yelp, “Hotch! Wait, uh, wait a second.” 

He immediately turns back. “What?” he asks, giving you a quick once over. 

“Are you sure I’m not in trouble for something?” you ask. To your credit, you give a bashful little laugh. “I feel like I’m walking into a trap.” 

“I have no intentions of trapping you anywhere.” 

“Please don’t fire me at Melanie’s.” 

He smiles at you again and leaves your alcove of the office to head back to his own. Around the desks and the bullpen where his team sit doing their paperwork, up the stairs to the landing. He pauses before he goes inside.

JJ’s standing behind Derek’s desk. They’re chatting, JJ sipping at a mug, a small smile on her lips. Spencer watches her from his own desk. He doesn’t like her anymore to Hotch’s knowledge, but it doesn’t stop him from smiling at her with that slight thread of lovelorn shyness when she asks him what he’s so busy doing. 

Hotch has a moment of clarity at his desk when he realises he needs to find somewhere perfect to take you come lunch time. You hadn’t seemed convinced of your job security when he’d left you, and he spends some time pondering how best to accommodate you as he sorts thought Quantico’s best cafes and restaurants. 

He has emails to answer, phone calls to take, and to make. Time moves quickly, and by 1:02 he’s all sorts of late. It’s almost 1:12PM when he’s again at your office door, a warm plastic bag against his side. 

You’re looking at your lap. Coat in your hands, lip nibbled raw, there’s an internal conversation happening that he’s not privy to. He doubts he’d like it very much —the agony of self-doubt is written plainly in your slouch. 

He knocks your door, feeling very sorry for your startled jump. “Hi. Sorry, I’m late, I know. But I thought I’d bring dinner to you.” 

He thought of it like this: if he were to take you to dinner, you could explain it away as a professional superior who was going to fire you and changed his mind, or a superior checking in on his employee, or a superior simply being kind. He has, on occasion, taken different members of his team or office out to discuss things in their lunch hours because he was busy and needed their time at a convenient hour. You might not think anything of it. 

Right now, Hotch really wants you to think something of it. 

“What?” you ask. 

“Is that okay with you, if we stay here?” 

It’s a little much for you, apparently. You finally tip into incredulity. “Aaron, is everything alright? I really don’t understand what’s going on.” 

“I’d like to eat lunch together.”

“But why?” 

“Because you’re good company.” He’s sat knee to knee with serial killers, and his next sentence is still scary, “Because I like you, and I’m not sure how else to show it.” 

You press your coat to your stomach, frowning. “You like me.” 

“I was under the impression that you liked me too,” he says, smiling despite you and himself. Hotch might be a drill sergeant and a bully all those terrible moody stations as a boss, but he’s also just a man, and there’s little room for stoicism in love. 

“But you…” 

He waits, but then feels too sorry for you to let you flounder. “Honey, I don’t know how else to put it. I’ve tried compliments, I brought you that plant,” —he points to the still blooming orchid on your window— “I ask you what your plans are every weekend.” He looks swiftly behind him. Alone, he edges into your office to close the door and allow some privacy. “And every weekend I ask you if you want to get a drink. I’d think you didn’t like me if it weren’t for your tell.” 

“What’s my tell?” 

Your hand. Whenever he’s around, you take something into your hand and squeeze at it or feel it like you’re going to explode with nerves. He saves you the explanation, and instead lays his most gentle look on you. “If I’m wrong, please let me know. I’d never want to put you in an uncomfortable position, but you’re lovely.”

“You’re not making me uncomfortable,” you say, semi-disbelieving. “You never do. I'm just confused.” 

“I’d really like to get to know you as more than a colleague.”

“You know me,” you mumble. 

He does. He knows what your favourite colour is, your favourite food, your soccer team. He sent you flowers on your birthday, asks after your sick neighbour, and checks your office light every night when he goes home, though he knows what time you leave each evening. And he knows that you’re scared to admit to liking him or anyone, because you worry you’re not allowed. 

“I do,” he agrees, giving the plastic bag a jostle. He doesn’t need big answers now. “Can I sit down?” 

You might not have a big answer to give, but your expression tells a story nonetheless. You wheel your seat backward and he pulls a spare chair toward your desk, your smile like an adornment as you push aside your things to make room. You smile so hard it changes your entire face. 

“Do you have napkins?” you ask, not so subtly breathless as he places the bag down and pushes the plastic back. 

He pulls out a wedge of them. You pinch them, and for a second the both of you hold them, your eyes meeting, your cheeks appled with matching smiles. 

“I thought the orchid was for secretary’s day,” you say quietly, taking the napkins. 

“You aren’t a secretary,” he says, holding out a plastic fork. 

When you go to grab it, he moves it up out of the way. Your startled laugh is beautiful. Totally stunning. He hadn’t realised how badly he’d wanted the quiet intimacy of teasing you over lunch until he had it. 

You grab the fork before he can move it again. “Too slow,” you say. 

“Oh, you think so?” he asks. 

“I know so, Aaron. Who has the fork?” 

Aaron, he thinks. Finally, Aaron. “You have the fork, but I have your lunch. I’d tread carefully if I were you.” 

[storiesofsvu]

Once

Prosecutor!Hotch x reader warnings: language, teasing, semi public sex, smut. This might be my last one shot for a while, I'm likely going to be working on one shots in tandem with the series I want to wrap up, but only be posting the series for a while. This plan is so that when I eventually get back to work (cause yes, we shut down again and the job I was *guaranteed* to have over the break was pulled out from under me at 2am the day we closed by the same ppl who promised it to me...) i have a lot of stuff finished to queue so y'all aren't empty handed lol. Like Hotch and don't want to miss out?! Sign up for the taglist here! Enjoy what you're reading or want to prioritize a request? But me a ko-fi! 🩵🫶🏻

Aaron had been eyeing you up since you’d refused his plea deal back at the precinct, then again, he’d been eyeing you up for what felt like years already. He found it incredibly hard not to, you were always well dressed, clothes fitted, likely designer and tailored perfectly for you, never a hair out of place, your lips coated in a shade that complimented your skin perfectly and made him want to kiss you until he felt drunk. He had yet to win a case against you and shamefully felt like his attraction towards you was more or less the reason, constantly distracted while you did your crosses, feeling admiration at the way you spoke, wrapping the jury around your perfectly manicured finger rather than annoyed that you were swaying them against his client. His eyes raking up your form, trying not to linger to much on your curves perfectly accented by your skirt suits, feeling the rush of adrenaline when you’d suddenly turn back to the gallery, nearly catching his eye before cocking a brow or sending him a smirk, a sure fire sign that you knew you were about to win.

The lingering glances went both ways of course, you happened to be just that much more subtle about it, your eyes on Hotch while your ears were still vehemently listening to his questioning, ready to object whenever you could. You were able to play it off easier than he was, barely giving him a glance before you would redirect the witness and be whisking past him to the stand, a whiff of your perfume enough to intoxicate him for a moment.

It wasn’t a flirtation, it wasn’t a trend of ‘will they, won’t they’ it was rather a game of cat and mouse. Who was going to give in, who was going to be the victor and rightfully claim their prize, though it was a constant guessing game between the two of you of who was the predator and who was the prey. You flaunted yourself more often than he did, clothing in rich colours, pulling focus in the court room, designer heels that brought you up closer to his eyeline, shiny pieces of jewelry placed in just the right spots to have him glancing where he wouldn’t otherwise. Aaron rarely even opted for a colourful tie, leaving practically everything to your imagination, which honestly, you weren’t complaining about.

But it wasn’t just about the over the top professional and shark like performances in the courtroom that drew you to each other. It was the more candid and intimate moments when he would show up at your office to drop off a warrant or barter through an offer. Catching you halfway through lunch, your blazer off, exposing more skin, the curve of your breast peeking out over the top of your blouse when you bent over your desk to grab something. The more casual way you spoke, the way you insulted your client, agreeing that they were an idiot, the way the word ‘fuck’ rolled off your tongue so perfectly he wished he could hear you moaning it.

The judge called for lunch and Aaron felt like he could barely keep up with your stiletto powered steps in the hallway as you sauntered towards the elevator. Quips and teasing jabs were volleyed back and forth as the stern tone of the courtroom dissipated and a playful nature took over between the two of you. Aaron’s large hand, warm and strong was suddenly on your waist, guiding you out of the way of incoming foot traffic and it practically electrified your senses. Your hand wrapped around his wrist, nails tickling his skin and he felt himself twitch in his pants, suddenly intoxicated by the smell of your shampoo as your head whipped around to look at him.

Neither of you were entirely sure how you’d ended up behind the locked door of a spare witness prep room, but you weren’t going to complain about the way Aaron had you pinned up against the wall as he kissed you. There was a fire behind it, deep and passionate as you battled for dominance, one of his hands on your hips, pressing you harder into the wall while the other one tangled into your hair. Your hands looped over his shoulders, nails scratching at his scalp while you tried to resist the urge to wrap your legs around his waist. You nipped at his lower lip and he retaliated by slipping his tongue into your mouth, commanding the kiss, his hand cupping your cheek, holding you directly where he wanted as his hips rolled against yours, pressing his growing hard on into you. You couldn’t help the moan you let out into the kiss, your tongue moving with grace right along Aaron’s, his free hand crept up your body, palming at your chest and you broke the kiss with a gasp. He took full advantage, mouth moving across your jaw until he was peppering kisses down the side of your neck and your hands were tugging at your blazer, dropping it to the floor once it was off your body.

“This is a one time thing!” You panted, hands clawing at his back as his teeth sunk into your neck, his head nodding ever so slightly when his tongue lapped out to soothe the burn of the bite. You felt the tingle burn its way through you, starting from where his mouth was on you, working down you body to where he was pawing at your chest, all the way to in between your legs where it burst into flame.

“Now why would you say that?” He muttered, a devilish smile on his kiss swollen lips and a dark gleam in eyes and you huffed, grabbing his wrist to direct his hands back to your body.

“Oh just shut up and stop being a tease.” You growled and he laughed.

“Yes Counselor.”

Aaron ducked his head once again, but this time to the other side of your neck, leaving a trail of messy kisses up it until he reached your lips again, swallowing down your moans and whimpers. Your leg wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer to you so you could roll your hips, your panties dampening with each time your cunt brushed at his clothed cock. He let out a small groan, his cock throbbing in his pants at just the thought of being buried deep inside you. His hands found the hem of your skirt, bunching it up around your waist before one of them sunk between your legs, palming at you through the flimsy fabric of your underwear. He moaned against your lips, the heel of his hand rubbing at your clit while his fingers gently massaged your pussy, your hips jolted toward the touch, a whine escaping your lips before you nipped at his.

A smirk broke out on his lips at your neediness and he nudged your panties to the side, fingers running through your folds, collecting your wetness before rubbing at your clit. You broke the kiss with a gasp, your forehead resting on his as you panted, whimpers and quiet moans coming from your lips.

“Please…” you murmured, your eyes fluttering shut at the way he was toying with you and he swiftly slid two fingers into your pussy, letting out a groan as he did so.

“Fuck sweetheart.” He cooed, “you’re so wet.” His fingers began lazily pumping, the heel of his hand still brushing over your swollen clit with each thrust.

“What did I say about teasing?” You grumbled, a hand sinking between your bodies to palm at his cock through his pants and he let out a hiss, his fingers curling inside you. Your breath caught in your throat, hips grinding down into his touch.

“Have to warm you up honey…” he groaned softly, rocking his hips into your hand, “don’t want to hurt you.”

You could only manage a noncoherent string of words, muffled by his shoulder as your head fell forward when his fingers curled inside you again, hitting your g-spot on the first try. Your pussy began to flutter around him as he scissored and curled his fingers, your juices leaking down his wrist. His free hand began to paw at the neckline of your shirt, pulling it down just enough to pull your tits out and his mouth wrapped around one of your nipples, sucking it into his mouth and you let out a moan, your head falling back onto the wall behind you. The hand Aaron had inside you picked up the pace, thrusting deeper into you, wet sounds from your pussy accompanying your quiet moans while your thighs trembled. Your hands shot to his belt, quickly undoing it in order to actually get into his pants and he groaned against your skin when your hand rubbed at his cock through his briefs, the leaking beads of pre-cum smearing against the fabric. Your fingers slid into the waistband of his briefs, shoving them and his pants down just enough for his cock to spring free and his teeth sunk into the curve of your chest as the cool air sent a shiver of pleasure through his body.

“This feels dirty.” You muttered, palming at his length and he chuckled, finally pulling away from your chest as his fingers continued to stretch you out. A piece of his normally styled hair fell forward over his forehead as he glanced down at you with dark eyes, his breath hot on your lips when he spoke.

“That’s because it is.”

“Then hurry up and fuck me already.” You groaned, your body jolting as he curled his fingers once more before pulling them out of your cunt and you let out a whine, grabbing his wrist to suck his fingers into your mouth, tongue lapping around them to get all your juices off.

“Fuck..” Aaron felt any coherent thought leave his brain as his cock throbbed, your eyes not leaving his until your lips parted with a gasp and you let his fingers drop from your mouth and he was able to surge forward, capturing you in a kiss, tongue diving into your mouth in an attempt to taste you. “I don’t have a condom.” He murmured against your lips and your leg wound around his waist again, grinding your pussy against his pulsing cock.

“I don’t fucking care.”

That was all he needed to wrap a hand around his cock, lining it up with your soaked pussy before thrusting forward and sinking fully into you. Your legs eagerly wrapped around his waist as he shoved you into the wall, hips meeting yours as his head buried into the crook of your neck, your cunt already fluttering around him.

“Fuck…” The swear was mutual, you’d never felt so full and stretched out as you were around him, his cock reaching deeper inside you than you’d ever imagined. You were so wet, so warm, Aaron felt like he could combust in that exact moment, but he knew he wanted to feel you for so much longer.

Reluctantly, he pulled out until just the tip was still wrapped in your pussy and set a steady pace fucking you against the wall, knowing neither of you really had that much time. Your whimpers and moans right in his ear were more than enough to drive him wild, picking up the pace, feeling the way your cunt was squeezing around him with each thrust. Your hands clawed at his back, one wrapping around the back of his head, fingers threading through his previously perfectly styled hair. Your lips latched onto the side of his neck directly below his ear, the only visible spot of skin in that area, leaving sticky kisses. In any other moment he’d be worried about the shade of your lipstick transferring to his collar but right now all he could think about was how your pussy felt wrapped around him.

Each thrust of Aaron’s hips you could feel every ridge and vein of his cock dragging over your walls, every time you squeezed around him you could feel him twitch inside you and it drove you wild. He started to grope at your chest again and your head fell back against the wall, thighs trembling around his waist.

“Fuck that feels good.” You murmured, and he fucked into you harder, his hips snapping into yours and you nearly let out a yelp.

“Quiet pretty girl.” He panted, his hand quickly clapping over your mouth, “can’t have anyone know what we’re up to.”

You nodded the best you could, your moans and whines now muffled by his large hand, your breath hot on his fingers. The sensation made his dick twitch inside you, a low swear on his breath when your lips began to kiss at his hand, your tongue surging out, wrapping around one of the digits and pulling it into your mouth. Aaron knew he wasn’t going to last very long with the way you were sucking on his fingers, your moans muffled around them while he fucked deeper into you, his cock absolutely throbbing while your thighs gripped around his waist tighter. His free hand sunk between your bodies, finding your clit and beginning to rub, your teeth scraped against his fingers when he increased the pressure, matching the speed of his thrusts.

Your pussy clenched down around his cock, juices smearing around him with each pass of his fingers and your head dropped against the wall again. Pleasure was shooting through you and if it wasn’t for his hand covering your mouth you were certain the entire floor would know exactly what you were up to. Aaron had you seeing stars already, your body shivering between his and the wall before he nipped at your earlobe,

“Gonna need you to come for me gorgeous.” He panted, his brow slick with sweat, doing his best to hold back his own orgasm until he’d made you come around his cock.

“Fuck!” It came out the best it could under his hand while your body convulsed, thighs gripping incredibly tight around his waist as your back arched off the wall, pussy pulsing around his cock.

Aaron fucked you through you orgasm, slowing the pace of his hips until you were no longer shaking in his arms and one of your legs dropped from around his waist and you started to relax against the wall. A second later and he was slipping out of you, spinning you in his arms to bend you over the table in the center of the room.

A moan broke free from the back of your throat as he re-entered you, his cock a throbbing mess, coated in your cum as he began to chase his own orgasm. A hand tangled into your hair, pulling you up off the table and flush to his chest.

“God you feel so good.” He grunted and you chuckled softly.

“Yeah?” You asked, head turning back to husk into his ear, “you like that Hotchner? The way your thick cock feels buried deep in my wet pussy?” You squeezed as hard as you could around him and he let out a hiss.

“Fuck.” The hand in your hair tightened, “do that again and I’m gonna come.”

“Yeah?” You purred, squeezing your cunt around him once more, holding it for longer as you felt him beginning to pulse inside you, “come for me Aaron, fill my pretty pussy up with your cum.”

“Shit!” His hips faltered against yours as his grip on you loosened and you barely caught yourself on the table as he pounded the last couple of thrusts into you before he let out a low groan, stilling against you.

A very satisfied sigh left your lips at the feeling of his cock twitching inside of you while his cum painted your walls. Aaron was careful, catching his breath as he squeezed at the base of his dick, making sure every last drop of cum was buried deep in your cunt before he slowly slipped out. Part of him was tempted to see if any of it dripped down your thighs, but he was starting to come back to his senses, tucking your panties back into place, pressing them against your swollen pussy lips to catch all of his release.

“You alright?” He asked, his hand soothing up your back, readjusting your skirt before he tucked himself back into his pants.

“Never better.” You replied with a sigh, pushing yourself back upright. Confident you were no longer on shaky legs you stepped over to the mirror, tugging your shirt back into place, fixing your hair and slightly smeared lipstick.

“Here.” Aaron handed you a paper cup of water from the water cooler and you chuckled.

“Such a gentleman.” You teased, taking a sip before reaching up, fixing his mussed up hair and wiping the remnants of your lipstick from his collar. You were about to tease him again when your phone pinged a couple of times and you pulled it out from your bag, “jury’s back. Guess now we’ll find out who really came out on top.”

Shooting him a wink you were gone from the room before he even managed to fully collect himself and his thoughts, slipping back into the courtroom and behind his respective table just in time. Somehow, he wasn’t surprised twenty minutes later when the jury came back fully in favour of you and you were looking over at him with a cocky smirk as everyone packed their things up.

“Well,” he stepped to your side of the room once you were up, “congratulations counselor.” He stuck his hand out for you to shake and you took it after a small laugh, “can I buy you a celebratory drink?”

“Oh Hotchner.” You chuckled, stepping closer to him, “you know the general guideline is that you’re supposed to buy the drink prior to when your cum is dripping out of my cunt.”

“So is that a yes?”

“I seem to remember telling you that was a one time thing.”

Part 2

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[currently-evil]

Yeah sure we know how Neil is with reporters (bloody brilliant that's how he is) but How about Andrew? How  does he act in front of the camera?

My personal headcannon is that he will do ANYTHING not to talk about Exy, especially as a Proffesional Exy player.

And I imagine him going through phases, testing how much he can do, before his PR Agent snaps and tries to kill him.

First time he is chosen to talk to reporters at the end of the game... he just keeps silent. Stare at all people with dead bored eyes, until they give up and ask somebody else.

Yeah, no, that can't be. His PR Agent immediately tells him you have to, HAVE TO talk to the reporters, Andrew.

Very well, Andrew can talk to them.

Next time he answers all of their questions.... in german.

Ok, I see what you are doing here, I see. But no, stop that. In English Andrew, answer in English.

No problem.  So Andrew of course answers questions in English, by convincing every reporter that he is Aaron (and also implying that they are incompetent by catching the wrong brother.)

Andrew can tell his PR agent is a step away from nervous breakdown when he gets a berating letter from her the next day. (He blocked her everywhere out of spite.) This time he even got a list that said You can't keep silent with reporters, you can't answer them in another language and you can't claim you are Aaron, you have to talk about exy.

And honestly all that can be arranged.

So next time he talk with reporters, even in english! and don't claim to be Aron single time... instead he tells them he really doesn't know anything about exy.

You see the thing with Andrew is that he has this energy, this posture, this quiet self confidence that makes it really hard to realize if he  is lying or not.

Just picture room full of sports journalists staring at Andrew unsure, quietly looking at each other trying to judge what is really going on.

"You dont know anything about exy?"

"nope"

"None of the rules?"

"Nothing"

"But...but you play professionally!"

"I was told I have to keep the ball out of the goal, I don't know anything else."

"You ... you trained with Kevin Day! Son of the exy! How is it possible??"

"Kevin also told me to keep the ball out of the goal."

Needless to say it's one of the funniest after game interviews to exist and the moment Andrew's agent starts looking for another job.

[codename-adler]

musing about jeanaaron rn.... what are your thinkings about them tell me anything

an exception from my to-do list for u orpheus and my loves Jeanaaron <3

- the height difference is EXQUISITE. 5ft vs 6ft2 😍😍😍

- backliner duo backliner tension backliner sync backliner soul

- i understand and read Aaron as a very no bullshit guy, but like, that’s it. he’s not mean about it, not cruel, not condescending, not teasing, not fake, not anything. (unless u are Neil Josten) i think that it’s very refreshing and fascinating to Jean? to meet someone who really has no ulterior motives whatsoever, in life and with his person. very trust material in Jean’s eyes methinks. the very just middle between overly sweet positivity and stabbing despair? idk, i just think Aaron shared Andrew’s honesty, but in a more neutral, idgaf way. does that make sense?

- Aaron tends to Jean’s woundssssss like no one ever has before and there is so much less pain!!!

- Jean cracks Aaron open right down the middle where nobody ever bothered to lookkkkk and there is so much more understanding!!!

- i like the Kevaaron vibe of revenge, like: you took my forever partner, i’m stealing your twin! or; you chose that moldy ginger snap, i’m choosing the same brand of bastard but he is TALL! it’s funny to me :)

- the patience they have for one another is infinite; they feel no rush, no pressure, no resentment. they would wait eternities for just one smile from the other, even if that’s all they would ever get.

- the quiet is important. silence without anticipation? a reprieve of the noise inside and outside? freely? i think they’re both silent people, but with one another there’s no forcing words, no expectations, no waiting for the other shoe to drop. the safest place where everything just stops and all is okay.

- CUDDLES. they are both hardcore heavy duty octopi in bed. holding tight tight tight tight no space all warmth. intertwined like bonsai roots.

- they looooooove to judge people together!!! especially their teammates and classmates. but the grocery store and airport are fun places too.

- i think they should learn to play instruments together. it would be very sexy. and angsty.

- i imagine them taking turns cooking, always one manning the kitchen, and the other sitting on the countertop. the kicking-against-the-cupboard-or-island length varies, but not the domesticity and intimacy of it all.

- Jean is the best teacher Aaron has ever had. for studying AND Exy. Jean is the best backliner, yes, but has that je-ne-sais-quoi that just gets through to Aaron, that just gets Aaron

- Aaron is also suchhhh a sucker for validation and making Jean proud is his #1 kink

- i think Catalina is so much like Katelyn (and woah would u look at that, such similar names 👀) that she instantly takes a liking to Aaron too, and Aaron as well right back despite his best efforts, and Jean is so touched that his bestfriend has adopted Aaron like she did with him, like he truly can have everything 🥹

- Jean immensely appreciate that Aaron is among the very very few people who does not shit on Kevin, but doesn’t worship him either.

- for what Neil did for Jean, Aaron truly starts to resent him less and less thanks to Jean offering a less idealistic vision of Neil that Andrew and the Foxes all share, but showing him Neil’s true colors that can also be good despite their violence.

- Jeanaaron on the motorcycle??? tiny beefcake plastered to Jean’s muscly broad back??? HELLO???

- back to the honesty think, i think where Jeanaaron differs from Kevaaron and is instead more similar to Andreil, is that the walls have to be taken down very painstakingly; Kevin and Aaron already know each other and have seen each others worse, there’s no armour to go through; Jean and Aaron don’t know each other at first, but they understand each other like no one, so it’s a game of truth too, one at a time, tearing down those barriers and touching that soft true heart behind; what makes them panic, what makes them scream, what plagues their nights and days, what lures in their past… it’s a whole new process of dealing with your trauma when no one else could ever handle it, much less want to look at it and kiss it better anyway.

also dusting off me old old playlist i had made for them, just for you:

take me home + 100 bandaids are really my jeanaaron anthems

[eheavenlyy]

my guilty pleasure ship in aftg will always be kevaaron, idk when it started or came to be, but since i read a fic of them awhile ago they have not left my head. now that TSC has been released and we learn that jean finds aaron entirely uninteresting it makes the ship even more intriguing to me because imagine him finding out kevin and aaron are into each other (theoretically)

jean: him? seriously? - as a man formerly in love with kevin he is JUDGING.

kevin: what’s wrong with him?

jean: he’s so… bland?

[lovingrosewho]

Framed

Hello there! It’s been a while since I’ve written anything but I recently began watching Criminal Minds again and fell in love with Aaron Hotchner all over again as well, so I just had to write this, I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it :) This is my first Criminal Minds (published) fanfic, and the first Hotch x Reader I’ve written ever! (also the first nsfw)

ONE SHOT (but who knows, it may even have a part 2 on a future maybe not-so-near but not-so-far-away either)

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Cis!fem!reader

Rating: 18+

Word count: 3467

Summary: reader has been accused of murdering her older, rich ex-fiancé (of course I took my inspo for this piece of fanfiction from Brooke Whyndam, of the movie “Legally blonde”, also, the line “then show them a picture of his dick” is from that movie).

Warnings: NSFW content (innuendo, sex, curse words, age gap - reader is in her mid twenties, Hotch is in his early/mid forties)

“I didn’t do it!” you scream one last time slamming your fist on the table, on the edge of tears.

It had passed around 8 hours already with you in custody, accused of the murder of your ex-fiancé, a (quite older) man, CEO of a big company in town, and as if that wasn’t enough, the best friend of the sheriff.

SSA Aaron Hotchner rubs his face, tired, after observing Prentiss and Morgan’s attempts to get you to confess. It’s almost 3am.

“Sheriff, with all due respect, I think she’s telling the truth” he tells him with a soft voice after a deep sigh.

“And with all due respect, you profiled that the suspect would be a female in her mid twenties, who we’d have to get the information out of her”.

“And we also profiled she’d be seeking for attention and validation which we don’t see it happening do we?” Aaron retorts rolling his eyes discreetly.

The sheriff gives SSA Aaron Hotchner one last glance before grabbing the doorknob of the interrogation room and storming in, Hotch follows close behind, seeing how the sheriff turns off the videocamera recording what happens inside the interrogation room, knowing no good can come from asking the same questions over and over again when everybody is also tired and fed up with trying to get a false confession out of you, which, from your behavior, Hotch knows it’s impossible.

“That’s it!” the sheriff yells “You killed my best friend! Either you confess or I’ll let you rot in here the rest of the 72 hours we can have you legally detained!”

“For the last time, I. Didn’t. Do it!” you yell back.

The BAU team exchanges glances between each other.

“What judge is going to believe you huh? You were engaged to a successful man in his mid fifties! And then he goes and marries someone even younger than you!”

“That was over two years ago!” you talk back.

“You had motive and opportunity, no judge nor jury is going to understand any other reason for you to be with him that is not for the money”.

“Then show them a picture of his dick! That might clear a few things up” you finally bark at him. The sheriff looks at you in astonishment. Morgan disguises a snicker as a cough, Prentiss bites down her lower lip to suppress a laugh, and Hotchner… Hotchner just stands impassive at you.

The sheriff leaves the room enraged, and everyone else follows, not before giving you an apologetic look. Hotchner is the last one to stay. You see the slightest doubt on his eyes and the subtle twist his lips make. You know he’s thinking about letting you go, but he then lowers his stare and gets out of the room, just like everybody else.

You sigh, drained out of energy after all the interrogations. This can’t be happening to you.

You knew since the moment you met John, that just his pure acquaintance could ruin your life. He had many enemies, and even more groupies who belonged to social circles that if you hadn’t met him, you would have never even imagined they existed, but what you had never imagined either, was that after all the heartbreak, loss and pain of what you thought in that moment to be the love of your life, you’d be reliving all those feelings, cause of some stupid cop negligence.

You lay your head slowly on the table, feeling the coldness of the metal surface on your cheek, and close your eyes for just a couple of minutes. You can’t sleep, not until this nightmare is all over, but at least, you get to have a few moments of peace and quiet before some other agent enters the room and begins yet another interrogation, demanding new information. Information you don’t have.

Outside the gray room, where you can’t hear nor see anything, the BAU team argues with the sheriff about your freedom.

“We’ve gotten out of her everything we’re going to get, I’m telling you, she didn’t do it” Morgan tries to reason with him.

“An unsub who planned a homicide this calculated would be equally calculated both on his answers and his behavior, this girl was in shock when we started showing her the case photos and couldn’t get a single cohesive phrase out. You can’t pin this murder on her” Emily backs up Morgan.

The sheriff looks at both of them, puffs a sigh and places his hands on his hips before discussing.

“Look, I get it, you profilers or whatever think you’re better than all of us, but this is still my county, and while I can have her in custody, I will. Who knows? She might even give up a confession or at least some new information. Goodnight gentlemen. And lady” he starts to walk to the exit without giving any of them any chance to convince him “I suggest you too get some rest. It’s been a long day and there’s one even longer ahead of us. Lock up when you get out”.

With that last statement, the sheriff ends the discussion and exits the precinct. Morgan and Prentiss move their heads in disagreement, proceeding to look back at Hotch, who is frowning at the door the sheriff just left through.

“What now?” both the BAU members look at the unit chief.

“Sheriff is right in one thing: you should get some rest. I’ll stay here with (Y/N), keep her company and see if there’s something we missed” he declares “Call Reid, Rossi and JJ, head back to the hotel, I’ll catch up with you in a few hours”.

“Hotch she’s not our unsub” Morgan defends you again “I mean we could, let her go right?”

“I’m afraid not. If we step ahead of the local officers, we might make things worse by getting ourselves kicked out of the investigation. It’ll be of more use the sooner we find something, anything, that might help (Y/N) clear her name and get her out of here” Hotch answers, he’s looking at Morgan but directs his orders to both of them, he knows his team too well to not know for a fact that Emily is the one who’s more inclined to let you go. They both nod silently.

“All right” Emily surrenders, not just because she’s too tired to continue arguing, but because she also knows that perhaps getting back to the hotel and going over some of the facts and scenes with Reid or JJ, might be more useful “Do you want me to stay with you? I mean the precinct is completely empty. You’ll be here all by yourself”.

“It’s okay. You and Morgan. Hotel. Rest. We’ll gather first thing in the morning and go through everything we have so far” he assures and doesn’t wait for a reply, beginning to walk back to the interrogation room, hearing the exit door of the precinct close behind him and the key turning.

When he enters again, he finds you on the same position you were trying to rest, your cheek against the now warm table, your hair falling on it and covering parts of your face.

“I’m not asleep” you mutter softly “I just needed to clear my head, breath and relax for a bit”.

Hotch lets out an almost imperceptible sigh, but everything is so quiet, that you get to hear it.

“(Y/N) I know you didn’t do it” he pronounces just as softly as you.

“Really?” you frown and shift your position, sitting back on the chair, looking at him “Then… can I go?”

He presses his lips into a straight line, and lets out a firm, but still tender “no”. A single tear escapes your right eye and you wipe it off quickly, not quite giving in to the emotions just yet. Hotch notices and comes to stand right next to you, laying on the edge of the table.

“If I’d let you go, the local authorities would not let us continue the investigation and they’d pin that murder on you. Trust me, the best we can do right now is wait a few hours until everyone has cooled down and come back with fresh eyes” he guarantees you, his features relaxing as he tells you this “Everything’s gonna be fine”.

“Everything’s gonna be fine” you repeat his words slowly, then look up at him. Damn it. He’s handsome. It’s no secret to anyone you have a thing for older men, but did that trait really have to emerge right now? You can’t help but to laugh out loud at the thought, it’s absurd to you that you could be thinking of that when you’re being accused of murder.

“What’s so funny?” he asks confused, and distances himself ever so slightly from you, without leaving his place on the table.

“Nothing, just…” you start, in an attempt to explain yourself and don’t end up looking crazy “God, if I had met you under any other circumstances, I’d probably be all over you right now”.

SSA Aaron Hotchner does not move, nor his face changes towards you, but you can see the most subtle blush on his cheeks, and his fists tightening. His lips finally crack up a light smile, finding the situation absurd as well, he quickly remembers the videocamera is off.

“You do realize you could be facing murder charges, right?” he asks playfully, kinda mocking you, keeping the volume of his voice down.

“I know, I know, I’m sorry” you apologize “It’s just so late, I’m tired, and well, you’re smoking hot” you confess with an apologetic, but also mischievous, look. Hotch finally lets out a laugh. Get a hold of yourself, Hotchner, he thinks to himself, takes a deep breath and goes back to his serious stare.

“(Y/N), I understand it’s been a long day in which you’ve been under a lot of pressure, but for me to keep up this game would be not only unprofessional, but also unethical. Your mind is probably just making up this crush for you to pass the time and distract yourself from what is happening. You’ll get over me” he explains sweetly.

“I wish I could get under you instead…” your witty retort catches him off guard, he swallows hard and starts coughing. He’s not used to women flirting with him anymore, not for a long time, let alone women almost half his age.

“I’ll see you in a few hours” he says standing up and reaching towards the door, not really uncomfortable by your approaches, but more by his increasing boner.

“No, okay I’m sorry, please stay with me” you beg him, standing up as well “I was just joking. Well, not really, but just… please keep me company, stay?”

He turns back at you not realizing how close you are, less than a couple steps behind him and he almost crashes into you, but he prevents the two of you from tripping by stabilizing himself grabbing your hips, but his hands can’t get to let go afterwards. You breath heavily, feeling the arousal and heat from the proximity suffocating you.

“Please fuck me” you half ask, half beg, admitting to yourself that what you need right now is precisely what agent Hotchner said: relieving some stress and distraction.

SSA Aaron Hotchner can’t help himself.

Ugh, fuck it, he thinks. It’s the sheriff’s fault for turning off the videocamera in an attempt to scare you and try and trick you into making a confession.

Without any further notice, he grabs your ass and the highest part of the back of your thighs to lift you. Your legs instinctively wrap around his back and your arms around his neck, not breaking eye contact as you let him carry you to the table. He places you on the table with tenderness, caressing your back as he does so. You bring your dominant hand to grab his tie and pull him in for a long, wet, controlled kiss, running your other hand along his arm and chest, ending the trace on his cheek, allowing your thumb to move back and forth on his skin.

Quite to be honest, Aaron doesn’t know how well he’ll be able to perform. It’s been a while since he’s last had sex, and his mind is always either on his job, or his family. He’ll probably won’t last more than a few minutes. But he can try and make it up to you.

He begins to deviate his trace of wet kisses from your mouth, to you jaw, your neck, and slowly your chest, discovering little by little the skin under your clothes, while his hands drop by the side of your waist, hips and legs, exploring you under the midi skirt you’re wearing. His right hand finds the slit between your legs, covered by your panties, and starts caressing it through the fabric. He listens to you moan and brings his other hand to cover your mouth with endearment, letting you know you’ve got to keep quiet.

He moves your panties to the side and traces one finger along your slick, inserting it inside of you. You have to suppress an even louder moan. He moves that one finger up and down, hitting your G spot, inserting another finger when you’re ready.

“Please” you beg once again. Aaron chuckles, grabbing you and getting you closer to the edge of the table, proceeding to get down on his knees and sucking all your juices without any type of heads up. You can’t but let out a loud moan. He looks up at you, and even though his eyes demand silence, you can tell there’s the slightest grin on his lips, before he continues sucking and licking your folds and clit. Your back drops to the table, unable to keep yourself steady so you can watch him. You’re trembling with desire and lust “Agent Hotchner, please” you beg once again. Hearing you call him ‘agent Hotchner’ does something to him. He stands up, wiping a little bit of your juices off his mouth and kissing you afterwards, his hands resting on either side of you on the table, one of them coming to grab each of your nipples one at a time.

“How much do you want this?” he asks softly.

“I need you” you answer “Please, fill me”.

His eyes meet yours and he nods slowly. His mouth comes to encircle one of your nipples as he pulls down your underwear and hides it in his suit pocket, and undoes his belt and trousers, without taking any clothes off. You come up from your laying position to support yourself with your elbows on the table, not wanting to miss how the special agent from the FBI takes his cock out to give it to you.

When he’s got it out and ready for you, he pumps it up and down a couple of times before lifting entirely your skirt and positioning himself in your entrance. He enters slowly, letting you take him all in, allowing you to accustom to his size, and for the love of him, he feels like he could explode any second. He breathes deeply and clears his mind, his ego not letting him end up looking like a teenager having his first time.

“Let me ride you” you ask after a few slow thrusts, needing more of him. He looks at you and nods.

God, what is he doing? At least you’re innocent. Are you? Right? You’ve gotta be. The profile doesn’t fit. But they’ve been wrong before haven’t they?

You exchange positions so he’s laying on the table, you get on top of him and guide his cock back into you again. You part your lips in a moan when you come down on him and begin moving your hips, his hands moving alongside them. You lower yourself without stopping so you can kiss him, rubbing your whole torso on his, your sweat making your skin slip on his skin. He grabs your breasts so he can bring them to his mouth, nibbling them.

Meanwhile, you’re wondering if this might just be another trick for you to let your guard down. But what could you say that might incriminate you? You know you’re innocent. What if he’s not even a real agent?

You’re so close that you can’t give yourself permission to sink into those thoughts, instead, you start riding Hotch faster and stronger, your clit rubbing against his pelvis as you do so.

“Aaron, Aaron…” you moan lowly. You don’t know if it’s okay that you’re on a first name basis already, but it just seems weird to you if you call him ‘Hotch’ like his colleagues.

It seems like he’s perfectly fine with it, as he digs his fingertips on your hips, encouraging you to keep going, feeling how your walls tense around him as your orgasm hits you.

You moan uncontrollably as you come, not being able to keep those in, digging your nails in Aaron’s shoulder suit sleeves. Afterwards, you lay slowly on his chest, until you start feeling like he’s pulling himself out.

“Wait” you gather and pull yourself up again, with him still inside of you “What are you doing? Don’t you wanna finish too?”

He looks at you in disbelief.

“Well I thought you may wanna rest or…” he begins explaining. You laugh and look fondly at him, lowering yourself again to murmur “don’t stop” in his ear.

Of course, he remembers. Twenties.

That’s everything he needs to start thrusting into you with everything he’s got left.

“(Y/N) I’m not-“ he tries to phrase “I’m not going to last longer, I’m- is it okay if I…?”

“Come inside me” you order “It’s okay, don’t worry, I’m on contraceptives”.

He decides to believe you, for his sake, and fastens his pace until it becomes sloppy, spilling inside of you just like you asked for, his cum filling you and showing between your folds as he brings himself out.

“Oh my god” he breathes out as he brings you down to his chest, securing his arms around your back, bringing you even closer to him “I’ll put you in handcuffs myself if it turns out you’re not innocent”.

You chuckle, tracing circles on his chest through the fabric of his shirt.

“I am. But still, you can put me in handcuffs any time you want”. He laughs alongside you, still feeling a bit like a teenager. A teenager who just did something very very wrong and that nobody should find out about. He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes for a few seconds before his cellphone starts ringing, he answers almost immediately.

“Hotchner” he says calmly “Yes I’m still here. No, everything’s fine, she’s… behaved. Prints don’t match? Well of course they don’t, was García able to tell whose are they then? Right. Well, tell her to keep digging. I’ll see you in a bit”.

After he hangs up he turns to you with a playful look.

“You never touched the gun that was in your purse, did you?” you shake your head.

“Guns and, weapons of any type really, give me the creeps, I just left it there thinking it was someone’s idea of pranking me or something”.

“Well that may have just made your case. You’re free to go. Whoever was trying to frame you did a lousy job not guessing you weren’t going to grab the gun” he tells you arching his brows at you. You stare perplexed at him.

“You’re serious? Oh my god Aaron! Thank you!” you exclaim kissing him.

“Yes, and we should get dressed and get out of here before anything else happens” he affirms gently, helping you stand up so you both can fix your clothes.

“Well, agent Hotchner, it’s been a pleasure. Truly” you tell him when the two of you are walking out of the interrogation room towards the exit.

“Pleasure is all mine, (Y/N)” he says, winking an eye at you “I’d like you to know… I don’t usually do this. I don’t…”

“Aaron” you interrupt sweetly, one of your hands coming to grab his forearm to stop him “I know. I can tell. It’s okay. I know that if I hadn’t initiated it or followed up you would have never even considered it, I get it… but now, can we please do it again?”

He chuckles.

“You know where we’re staying and the number of my hotel room, sweetheart. And I also recall reading on some case file that you’re from Virginia and were just visiting your home town?”

You smile widely at him as you nod, pulling him in from his tie for one last kiss. Or who knows, it might not even be the last one.

MASTERLIST

[ddejavvu]

Hii my name is eloise and I love ur writing so much.

But imagine the reader gets an Uber home from drinking with her friends and she stumbles into the house thinking Aaron is asleep but really he’s waiting up for her… and he’s like 🫢🤭 are you drunk ????

And then he puts her to bed cutely and makes her drink water and take her makeup off GAHHHH

aww thank you eloise - that's such a pretty name! happy to meet you <3 i fear i changed this up a bit where he knew she was out drinking but he was waiting for a call from her! i hope you still enjoy it <3

--

Opening the door quietly is of utmost importance. If you don't, you might wake Aaron, and he's on a tight sleep schedule as it is. The uber you'd called to bring you home drives slow and doesn't peel away from the curb with a screech, which you're grateful for. Now all you have to do is get the key in the front door, which proves to be more difficult than you'd anticipated in your inebriated state.

You don't get more than a few haphazard scratches of the key against the lock before the door swings into the house, and, as you'd been leaning on it while trying to open it, so do you.

"Woah!" You gush as your feet nearly fall out from under you, but a pair of strong hands push against your biceps, and you're upright again.

You notice Aaron standing in front of you, in jeans and a t-shirt. Not in pajamas, and not sleeping, either. Your hazy brain realizes a second late that he's the one holding you up, and you scramble to hug him where he stands.

"Aaron!" You gush, "You're still awake. I thought you'd be night-night."

He lets out a breath of a laugh at your phrasing, more suited for Jack than himself. He masks his amusement by pulling you through the door and shutting it behind you. It clicks into place and he locks it after, peering down the street at the faint lights of your uber driving away.

"Honey, you're home a little early," He hums, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah! I was getting woozy," You muse, hanging off of his bicep while he stares down at your slumped form, "I thought I'd call it quits and come snuggle up with you."

You shimmy your hips at the word snuggle but you're a little uncoordinated, not that Aaron is judging you for it. He smooths away your mussed hair from your forehead to press a sweet kiss there, happy when you hum at the feeling.

"Sweetheart, I was waiting for you to call me and ask for a ride," He informs you, "You know I'll come get you whenever, right? You don't have to waste money on an uber."

"What?" Your brow furrows, "You don't have to wait up for me, Aaron. That's- I didn't mean to keep you awake.'

A soft line of tears blossoms in your waterline as your lip and voice tremble in unison, "I don't want to be a bother."

"You're not a bother!" Aaron insists, smoothing his thumbs over your cheeks, "Hey, no, you wouldn't be bothering me if you asked for a ride. I stayed up because I wanted to, because I wanted to make sure you were okay."

"But you need sleep," You lament, sniffling weakly despite his soothing strokes over your cheeks, "And I would have told you to just sleep if I knew you were staying up. You could have been resting this whole time."

"I couldn't rest if you weren't next to me," He confesses, and he's glad you're a little bit drunk so that you don't tease him for how sappy it is. But it's true, and you sigh against the palm of his hand.

"Love you, Aaron." You hum, "Next time I'll call you."

"Good," He smiles softly, unable to resist leaning in once more to kiss your face. He targets your nose this time, and adores the way it scrunches in response.

"Let's get you changed," He pulls gently on your hand to guide you towards the bathroom, "And I'll take off your makeup too, honey. Then we can go night-night."

[ninyard]

Okay, so in the scenario where Aaron gets found not guilty, I can absolutely see the trial records being sealed.

Probably to protect Luther's reputation, man of god etc, lots in the trial records that could look bad for him, even if it was statements given by unreliable unstable teenagers.

And at that point, what Aaron has to put in the bit of the med school application where it says, "Have you ever been charged with a crime (other than minor traffic violations)" is essentially, "I was arrested and charged with murder. I was found not guilty at trial."

"Found not guilty," legally speaking, is "didn't do it."

He will probably have to go somewhere across the country for medical school, since there's kind of a media circus because of the year the Foxes had. And he'll have to hope that the people reviewing his application aren't exy fans. They wouldn't be allowed to judge him outside of what he put on the form, but also, admissions people are humans.

Otherwise, the people reviewing his application only know what he's put on the form, and "I was found not guilty" is a complete answer. Admissions people legally aren't allowed to google your crimes.

He's probably best off becoming, like, an ER doctor or a hospitalist rather than a family doctor, though. Chances of patients googling your name at some point if you're a family doctor: high. Chances of patients googling your name at some point when they see you in the ER: pretty low actually.

that last point is definitely a good one. i mentioned once that he might change his surname because even if he became a doctor, there’d be a pretty high that someone somewhere is going to google his name. maybe not everyone, maybe not often, but imagine he's older and healing at its years and years down the line, and nobody has mentioned it to him in four or five years and he's treating a kid and their mom goes,

"Wait, Dr. Aaron Minyard? Did you play exy for PSU?"

and he smiles and slides back in his chair and he's like "Yeah, well, I only did that to get me through college, you know. I much prefer doing this now. I'm a healthy guy, not a sporty guy!" (cue hearty doctor chuckle)

He's reaching over to give a kid a sticker or something and the mom yanks her kid out of the way and he knows. He knows the mom knows, that she remembers, that she knows what that name means, what that name did. It'd break his heart everytime that it happens to him.

[burkhxrts]

IMGONNAGETYOUBACK! [prologue] | A. Judge

"say you've got somebody i'll say I've got someone too. even if its handcuffed I'm leaving here with you." -taylor swift

summary: you were supposed to be excited when you got the job to be a journalist for a Major League Baseball team. however, the light dimmed when you found out it was the same team your ex boyfriend from college played on.

authors note: here we fucking go.

January 29, 2024

You're nervous. Why are you so nervous?

It's 7:30 in the fucking morning, and here you are, rolled into a fetal position on the floor all because of an interview.

Your friend, Penny, pats your back softly. "It'll be alright." she coos, pulling the hood that you had covering your face down, exposing you to the bright sunlight.

"No it's not," you groan. "They probably don't even think I'm that good of a reporter!"

"Don't say that." the blonde scolds, shoving you lightly. "You're a terrific reporter! Anyone who thinks differently is a dumbass."

You find strength and sit up, phone still clutched tightly in between your fingers. Scrolling to the top of your inbox, you still find nothing.

A whine bubbles out of your throat. You feel like a kicked puppy on the side of the road.

Tossing your phone aside, you stand up and sluggishly make your way towards the small kitchen the two of you share. You take one look at the fridge and slam it shut, making your way back to the couch.

"No one should have to stress out this much over a job," you shout, flopping onto one of the couches.

"y/n?-"

"I mean if you think I'm that bad of a reporter, then say it to my face! Don't make me sit here and wait like a fucking idiot-"

"Y/n?"

"who has all the time in the world. which, by the way I don't! I'm a professional reporter with nine years of experience and I have a degree!-"

"Y/N!"

You turned to yell back, only to be met with the bright screen of your phone. You glanced down and felt your heart drop.

It was an email from the MLB.

You screeched and snatched the phone out of Penny’s hands, running to sit on the couch. 

This is it. The moment you’ve waited for since you were 11 years old. 

“Subject: Congratulations on Your New Role with the New York Yankees!”

What.

[andrewminyardapologist]

TW: Food Trauma

Thinking about how it's probably really healing for the Foxes to have "family dinners" at Abby's because so of them most likely have some sort of trauma surrounding food.

Dan: Had to support her family, struggling to put food on the table, having to work to keep herself and her family fed. So much food insecurity that she doesn't have to worry about anymore. (I'm sure she still does, it doesn't just go away, but she now doesn't have to worry about making enough to afford her next meal.)

Allison: In recovery from an eating disorder, learning to have genuinely happy experiences revolving around meals, praised for her strength on the court and not just her beauty, learning that food is nourishment.

Neil: I mean... This one is obvious. He's been on the run close to a decade, and now has sit down meals regularly with people he cares about. Food doesn't just mean stuff you can steal from a grocery store or scrounge up at a gas station vending machine. It's part of home. It's Abby's kitchen, warm and bright, surrounded by his chosen family all helping to cook and set the table. It's smiling and laughing over a big plate of lasagna.

Kevin: He's obsessed with health to the point it's disordered. In the Nest, food was not about enjoyment. It was about being perfect. Everything he ate was chosen for him. At Abby's, he gets to pick his portion size, which foods he wants to eat, probably learns what he likes and dislikes genuinely because of taste and not nutritional content. I would bet eventually Abby catches on and makes his favorites pretty often, helps him try new foods and actually enjoy them, regardless of nutritional content.

Andrew: Andrew grew up in foster care, and he says none of his placements were good. He seems to have a lot of sensory issues surrounding food (rips it into tiny pieces, likes really intense flavors like spicy or sweet, etc.) I'm willing to bet he was often underfed and did not often get much say in what he ate. If he wanted to eat, it would have to be whatever he could. I think that while he might never admit it, having Abby's dinners (eventually) start to feel safe for him, the routine of it, the fact that no one would judge his eating there or force him to eat things he didn't like, would be something that helps him feel more comfortable around food. I think being allowed seconds, or thirds, would help him feel some security surrounding food. Similar to Kevin, I think Abby would pick up on the things he likes and make those meals more often. I think Bee helps with this too, what with the hot chocolate and everything.

Aaron: Tilda was abusive and neglectful. I think it is safe to assume Aaron had to worry about keeping himself fed for most of his life, and had to learn to cook for himself. Probably he had to figure out his own way to make sure he stayed fed without much help from Tilda. It's probable she punished him by withholding meals as well. I think similar to Andrew, having some consistency in the routine of dinner at Abby's helps him feel more secure. Additionally, I think he probably likes not having to bear the full weight of cooking for himself, and learns to enjoy it as something he does with his family instead of something done out of necessity. I imagine Abby teaches him some recipes that are fun and not just basic stuff thrown together in an attempt to make something edible.

Nicky: Nicky was 18 when he took in the twins. He had to work HARD to keep the three of them fed. It was probably difficult as well considering Andrew and Aaron already had issues surrounding food. I think he would find comfort in seeing that the twins were not only getting fed, but we're starting to let go of some of that insecurity about food. I think he would also find relief in not having to worry about feeding two kids when he was basically still a kid himself.

[cloudlessly-light]

Hey bestie! I love your works! I was wondering maybe you could write a fic where Emily is cockwarming Aaron while he’s cleaning his gun and she cums very quick because it’s too sexy for her ☺️

A/N: I’ll give an extra warning for this chapter, it contains gun kink, you have been warned!

I would also like to add that I wrote most of this either on the way to or from @sequinsmile-x, as well as in her apartment.

Title: Love like mine (3/11) Chapter title: But don’t worry I’ll make sure you don’t forget it Summary: He wasn’t a cheater. Until her. Word count: 3,7k Rating: Explicit Warnings (for this chapter): Smut, cock warming, gun kink, dirty talk, cheating, hinting at abortion

They spend the day mostly naked, starting off with breakfast until Emily casually strips herself from his shirt and he ends up taking her on her dining room table. It’s hours spent together in between sex and jokes and conversation and Emily finds herself liking the way he’s relaxing in her company, the difference between Aaron and Hotch slowly sneaking through in a way he hadn’t let it before.

He’s funny, a dry sense of humor that she finds that she enjoys and she can tell that he likes the way she challenges him. It had been part of his attraction to her from the start, the fact that he can’t really figure her out.

“Where did you get this?” He asks as he traces the tattoo on her hipbone, faded and old on her skin.

“In Italy.” She doesn’t want to tell him the whole story, doesn’t want him to tell him that after one of the worst experiences of her life she wanted something beautiful to come from it. The daffodil tattoo that she at 15 thought was a good idea, the flower meaning change and new beginnings, something she now rarely paid much attention to. “It was a new start for me.” She tells him simply and he seems to understand that she doesn’t want to talk about it.

“It’s pretty.” He says instead and kisses her hipbone before moving slowly up her body, his tongue tasting her skin until he’s face to face with her. “Like you.”

“You’re not so bad yourself.” She smiles into a kiss and when she hears his sated groan she can’t help the way satisfaction tingles down her spine. She knew he wasn’t hers, she knew that part of why she was attracted to him was because he was taken. Him being married meant that she was safe. She wouldn’t get hurt this way, and that was comforting.

Aaron tries not to think about the repercussions of what they were doing, how this could end. He didn’t want to leave Haley, didn’t really know what he was doing spending his weekend with another woman. But as Emily moaned his name in his ear, he didn’t want to stop.

He gets home early on Sunday morning to an empty house and he tries to ignore the guilt that’s creeping up his spine. He had spent the entire weekend with Emily, his mistress, and the thought of Haley had barely crossed his mind. The clothes he wears smell like her and he quickly puts them in the washing machine, needing to hide every trace of Emily before Haley walks through their front door with his son.

It’s wrong, so wrong, this wasn’t the man he had imagined himself to be. But Emily was addictive, something he hadn’t known he needed but now didn’t know how to be without. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knows that he should come clean, that doing this to Haley was close to evil. But he loved his wife, loved the life they had built and he didn’t want to give that up.

He realizes that it can’t last, not in the long run but then dark eyes and a teasing smile flashes in his mind and for some reason he finds that he’s not ready to give her up.

Being with Emily was something new, something he’d never had before, pleasures and urges he had always forced deep down finally seeming to have room to breathe. She didn’t judge him for wanting what he did, in fact, she seemed to revel in it. Reveled in the way he let go like he hadn’t before, seemed to love the power it gave her.

He hears Haley call for him just as he’s getting out of the shower, only minutes after he had washed the sin off his skin.

“Hi honey.” She greets him with a soft kiss and a smile, gentle and loving and home and he kisses her back. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too.” He tells her, the lie sliding off his tongue almost too easily as he takes Jack from her, the toddler babbling happily in his arms. “How were your parents?”

“They’re good. Maybe next time you can come too.” Haley watches as he tickles Jack with a fond smile. She wasn’t an idiot, she knew something had changed between them in the last few months, knew that he was hiding something from her but as she stood there in the home where they had picked out the color of the wallpaper and argued about what couch to buy and listened to the sounds of their sons laugh, she forced those thoughts away.

*

“Is this a bad time?” She knocks on his office door and lingers in the doorway. It’s late, everyone’s gone home and she had every intention to do the same, but then he had given her that look, the look that meant he wanted her to stay late. So she had told a lie to Derek and JJ when they asked why she didn’t go home, blaming paperwork that she didn’t actually have but it seemed to be enough for them to leave the office.

It had been a strange day, a restlessness in her that she wasn’t sure where it came from. She needed something, but didn’t know what. Felt the need for something thrilling, for the restlessness to go away. She must have walked into his office right as he was about to clean his gun, the weapon disassembled on his desk and for some reason her eyes fastens on it.

“Not at all.” He said as he stood from behind his desk. He looked through the window and saw that the bullpen was empty and he closed the blinds swiftly. When he looked back at her he could see how her eyes lingered on his gun that he had just been about to clean, thinking that it would still be a while before she would have been able to join him. “Emily?”

Her eyes snap to his and she licked over her suddenly dry lips. She didn’t know why the thought of his gun suddenly made want stir in her belly, didn’t know why she suddenly thought about how his gun looked small in his large hands and the precision in which he used it. But she did know that the restlessness she felt made her feel something she never had before as she looked at the weapon in front of her.

“Yeah?” For some reason her voice comes out low and breathy, so familiar to him in the throes of passion that he feels a tugging in his groin.

“What are you thinking about?” He husks as he circles her slowly until he’s standing behind her, lets his lips trail teasingly along the back of her neck as his hands grip her hips to pull her back against his chest. The adrenaline that suddenly rushed through his veins was intense, because he knew this was new, something neither of them had done before.

“N-nothing.” She swallows hard but cranes her neck to give him easier access to her skin.

“Tsk, you shouldn’t lie.” He nips at her neck and she gasps in response. “You’re still looking at it.” The way her body tenses slightly as she looks back at him with wide eyes makes him hum knowingly.

She tore her eyes from the gun, felt his lips turn into a smirk against her neck and when her eyes meet his there’s something dark reflecting in his brown orbs, something feral and new, something that sends a thrill through her body. And she knew she was caught.

He lets go of her and goes to sit down at his desk, a small smile tugging on his lips that he bites the inside of his cheek to keep at bay.

“You like my gun?” He beckons her closer and she walks around the desk to stand at his side. “Answer me.”

“I don’t know why.” She mumbles, shy in a way she usually never was with him and the way her cheeks heat up makes him sit back in chair.

“I’ll tell you what.” He pushes back slowly from his desk, one hand hovering over his fly. “You can sit here and watch me clean my gun, and if you’re quiet, I’ll give you a reward.”

She looks at him questionably, not understanding where he’s going with this. Her eyes shift from his gun to his hand as he slowly reaches for her, his fingers expertly popping the button of her pants.

“What are you doing?” She barely recognizes her voice, so thick with want that it comes out low and raspy.

“I’m undressing you.” He tells her matter-of-factly before pulling her pants and underwear down her hips. When they’re a puddle around her feet he stands to help her out of her shirt, her bra soon following as she stands completely naked in front of him. He tugged on the piercing, a nipple ring that she’d started wearing only a few days ago. “You’re going to sit here and keep my cock comfortable while I clean my gun.”

The whimper that escapes her comes without warning, suddenly so aroused that it feels like her entire body was set on fire. He’s barely even touched her, and yet she knows her slick are shining on her thighs already, her skin flushing as he looks at her with dark eyes.

“Aaron-“ she starts but is quickly cut off as he presses a finger against her lips.

“Quiet, sweetheart.” The nickname falls from his lips without hesitation and if he wasn’t so ridiculously turned on himself he would have corrected himself. But instead he simply drags the zipper of his slacks down, gets his hard cock out and sits back down on his chair.

Emily waits only a second before she straddles his legs, her hand around his shaft as she lines him up with her center. She runs the tip of him through her folds, lets him feel her wetness before slowly sinking down on him with a strangled moan. His hands spread her thighs wider apart, as wide as possible as he holds her tight against his chest, his breathing coming out of hot, short puffs against the back of her shoulder. She slowly starts to grind but his hands tighten and he bites down on her neck.

“No no, sit still, just like this.” He smirks when she forces herself to still on his lap, knows that she more than anything wants to move, to create friction for them both. “Rub your clit for me”

His low voice in her ear caused her to shiver and she squeezed around him return. Her fingers trembled as she does as he says, using two fingers to gently circle the bundle of nerves as Aaron hummed, pleased with her obedience.

“Fuck…” she gasped as she clenched around him again and she heard his low groan against her ear.

“Now watch.” He let go of her hips only to reach for his gun. When he held it up Emily bit back a moan, eyes fastened on it. “Dirty girl, you probably want me to fuck you with my gun.” He cleaned the muzzle as he talked.

She didn’t respond, but her hips buckling slightly and her fingers speeding up against her clit was more than enough of an answer. The danger of his words made her head spin, images of what he was saying flashing in her mind.

“Mhmm, you want me to fuck you with my gun like I fuck you with my cock, hard and deep. You want to drench it, want to ruin it with the mess you’d make.” He continues conversationally as he continues to clean gunpowder out of the barrel.

”Aaron, Jesus Christ.” Her eyes rolled back as heat spread through her, slowly building her orgasm up. The heightened situation made the familiar heat she now associated with him spread quicker than ever before. All she wanted was to move, but she stayed still even as her thighs shook, afraid to break whatever spell he’d managed to put her under.

“You want to clench around the barrel of my gun just like you’re clenching me right now.” Aaron growled at the way her tight walls were trembling around him. He didn’t know what kind of primal desire had set off for her, all he knew that the brutality of it was making it hard for him to control himself. He licked over her fluttering pulse, tasted the vibration of her moan as she trembled hard enough for him to stop what he was doing to keep her on his lap.

“C-can I?” She panted through dizzying pleasure, her fingers moving in quicker and quicker circles against her clit.

“Good girl.” He praised her with a low groan. “Come for me.” He let go of the grip and put down the rag he had used and wrapped one arm around her middle to keep her still, let the other move to tug gently on her nipple ring and then she was coming, a loud cry that he knew would have been heard through the door leaving her as she rocked on his lap, unable to keep from buckling as pleasure spread through her body in powerful waves.

Once she had calmed and he was sure that she wouldn’t fall off his lap he let go of her only to pick his gun up again. He could see how her eyes, heavy lidded and dark followed his movements as he reassembled his gun, slowly, deliberately.

“Did I tell you to stop?” He asked then, his hand wrapping around her wrist to place it back against her clit. “Keep clenching around me baby, make me feel good.”

She whimpered, her clit sensitive to the touch but she did what he said, rubbing slowly over it as Aaron simply held the gun out in front of her again.

“My filthy girl.” He licked a stripe up her neck, her skin tasting of sweat and adrenaline. “You’re enjoying yourself almost too much.” His hand gripped the gun tighter, making sure her eyes stayed on it as he slowly trailed it down her body. The muzzle grazed one of her nipples, the cold steel making her gasp before slowly moving it down her body, letting her feel it gently press against her stomach.

“Aaron I don’t-” Her words were cut off by him nudging her hand away from her clit, only to graze the gun against it, the muzzle scraping it gently. It was cold and hard, the feeling new and she whimpered.

“You’re soaking me.” He let the metal slide over her clit slowly, up and down, up and down, until she was clenching around him again. The barrel was shiny with her slick as he kept moving it against her clit, glinting in the low lights in his office and he grunted against her ear.

“I’m close.” Her hands were gripping his desk, her body trembling as she tried desperately not to move. The sight of his hand, large and strong, holding the gun, something dangerous and risky between her legs was something she knew she’d never forget. It was maddening, the excitement she felt as he brought her closer to the edge. She knew he was getting closer too, his low groans against her ear deep and raspy, the hand not holding the gun gripping her hard enough to leave bruises.

Then he pressed the barrel of the gun a little harder against her clit and she was coming with a guttural whine, her head thrown back against his shoulder and body trembling as she spasmed around him. The feeling of her clenching walls around him was enough for him to come as well, his release hard enough to knock the air out of him as he jerked up against her.

She was still coming down when she heard the thump of the gun hitting the floor and then his hand on her jaw, pulling her face towards his to kiss her deeply. He tastes like Aaron and adrenaline, almost metallic.

“You really will be the death of me.” He whispers once they pulled apart and she smiles lazily, a low hum leaving her.

“Let’s hope not. This is too much fun.” She kisses him again, kisses him until the need for air becomes too much.

When she gets home that night she can still feel him, can smell his cologne on her body, feel his warm hands on her skin. She pretends that thinking about him isn’t something she should see as a warning, that pressing on the bruises on her hips was only to remember the way he had felt as he grabbed at her and not thinking about the way he’d kissed each one after they were done.

She pretends because he’s married. He was a father. He was something fun to pass the time, to use as a way to get frustrations out. Wasn’t he?

*

It’s been three weeks since that night in his office, three weeks of things seemingly falling into chaos. The cases they worked were grueling, somehow worse than ever it felt like. They didn’t get much time to rest, flying to and from DC in a way they usually didn’t. It made Aaron want to be home as much as possible, because he missed Jack, missed Haley. But he also missed Emily.

They never spend the night together while on cases, knew that it was too risky. But as the days passed on, he could feel the tension build, pressure slowly making him close to agitated. He was too mad at the world, the cases they worked, the victims he met somehow getting under his skin in a way they usually didn’t.

And then it’s like something snaps, a local case, an unsub telling him in detail about his victims, all of them children, all of them dead. And Aaron can’t handle it.

She can tell, can tell the second her eyes meet his and she is quick to find him alone.

“What can I do?” She asks and he looks relieved to see her standing in the doorway of his office.

“Can I come over tonight?”

She can tell everything he doesn’t say, sees the anger and the way he wants nothing more than to scream his frustrations out at the world.

“Of course.” When his shoulders lower the tiniest bit she smiles. “I’ll take care of you.”

He calls Haley on the way, lies about an emergency meeting as he knocks on the door to Emily’s apartment door. She opens it with a filthy smile and nothing else and the second he’s hung up she’s on him, clawing at his clothes and kissing him like her life depended on it.

He lets her take charge, lets him get him undressed and up the stairs without question and then she’s pushing him back on the bed, quickly following him as she straddles him. It’s not often he does this, but tonight he feels like he needs it and Emily being her, already knew that even without being told. He sits up to kiss her, hands on her naked waist but she pushes him back against the bed again, hands flat on his chest as she slowly grinds on top of him, a smirk on her lips when he hisses at the heat of her along his shaft.

“I know you like this, having a dirty little secret.” Her lips ghosts over his and when he tries to kiss her she pulls back. “I know you come to my apartment to get out all that tension you can’t with her.” She licks across one of his nipples and when she tugs it between her teeth his jaw clenches as he swallows down a groan. “You use me, but it’s okay because I use you too.”

She’s sinking down on him and rides him until he’s groaning and swearing, her body dragging pleasure from his. When he comes it’s with her name hissed from between clenched teeth, his body sweaty and heavy with pleasure as she lets him enjoy the release he really needed as he relaxes back against her bed.

After, he cleans himself off in her bathroom and when he comes back to the bedroom, he finds it empty. He dresses, buttons every button and ties his tie before combing his hair quickly. When he walks downstairs he looks like Hotch again and Emily smiles at the sight.

She’s standing in the kitchen, leaning back against the same kitchen counter that he’s fucked her on more times than he’d like to admit, looking so effortlessly gorgeous and he has a hard time looking away from her.

“What?” She asks, teeth digging into her bottom lip.

“Nothing, I’ll see you at the office.” His hand gently grasps the back of her neck and pulls her into a kiss.

“I never thought I’d do this.” She admits once he’s pulled away and he looks at her questionably. “Help a man cheat, I mean.”

“I never thought I would cheat, but here I am.” He stays close and she lets her arms wrap around his neck loosely. ”Do you want to stop?”

“No.” She says softly and for the first time Aaron finds himself wondering if maybe they’re getting in too deep.

“I don’t either.” He tells her honestly as he rests his forehead against hers for a brief second.

The moment is interrupted by his phone, loud and obnoxious to his ears and when he looks at the screen he sees Haley’s name flashing on it.

“Hi honey.” He steps away from Emily and she gives him a gentle nod. “No, I’m heading home now, sorry the meeting ran long.”

Emily watches him go, his hand squeezing hers quickly before he heads to the door. Once he’s closed it behind him she finds herself not liking the silence of her apartment. It’s the first time she had ever come close to regret

[mschievousx]

i wish you love | a.h.

pairing: aaron hotchner x ofc

summary: francesca sainz knows her interests. she likes the dark, crime, profiling, medicine, military, guns, and suits. imagine her surprise when these things come as a person... granted, a "fourty-something unit chief" person, but a person nonetheless.

series masterlist

iii. three: a song to sing

with the week almost ending, francesca sat on reid's desk, lounging and disturbing him in any way that she can. he was busy finishing up his paperworks, which usually don't take him long so she presumed that something was wrong—utterly wrong for the boy wonder to be staring blankly at his monitor for ten minutes now while tuning her ramblings out.

"spence, hands down the tenth and eleventh doctors are the best."

he sighed at that, tapping his fingers together as he explained, "they are great, no doubt—"

"i'd let them run wild on me." she interjected calmly while checking her nails, nodding as if the idea's typical.

he fully looked at her, opening his mouth to speak only to close it and gather his thoughts, "i... how are we exactly judging them? because i think there might be a miscommunication here."

franz feigned ignorance as she turned her head to him and tried to look as innocent as she could muster. spencer is once curious man, and he'll stop at nothing to understand a concept he did not.

luckily, garcia arrived with emily to save her. the girls are already passionately exchanging points when they reached the two, their beloved tech girl throwing a question to the boy.

"what's your mbti?"

"infp, yours?"

penelope squeeled at that, gushing to reid at being only a letter different from him, "enfp!"

emily smiled at her excitement, nodding to the genius, "i'm surprised you even took the test."

"myers-briggs personality test is almost accurate. it was officially researched and the results are valid." he turned to emily with a smug grin in his his tone, "you're enfj."

prentiss rolled her eyes with a smile, hinting everyone that reid was indeed correct. garcia looked at the young trainee, "yours, franz?"

"me? intj," she answered casually, leaning her arm on the desk divider.

the pink-loving woman narrowed her eyes at her, pulling her head back as her voice came out pitchy in disbelief, "no, you're not."

"all that flirting and confessions and you're a t?" emily backed her, brows crossing but with a humorly scoff.

franz pressed her lips together in a thin smile, nodding slowly in reassurance, "73 percent."

"that's high." she grinned at their bemusement, amazed herself how they could not believe her mbti.

reid narrowed his eyes in analysis of the girl's previous behaviors, "if you really think about it, she has a tendency to rule by thinking rather than feeling."

the dark-haired woman chuckled mockingly as she shook her head, "oh, i don't think there's much thinking involved when she throws herself at the boss-man."

sainz could do nothing but laugh at her reasoning, which in all honesty, she could not say it was entirely untrue.

"how come you're introverted as well?" garcia grimaced in annoyance that the girl's mbti seems to be exactly the opposite of what hers should be.

"oh, you don't know me, penelope." she grinned teasingly with pride in her voice.

prentiss nodded upwards as she crossed her arms. the rest followed her line of sight, "what about him? what do you all think his mbti is?"

francesca smugly grinned in certainty, "he's an i and t for sure."

pen squinted to their boss, pursing her lips on thinking, "istp?"

"is that gideon?"

reid stated with disbelief as he saw the familiar man walk in the bullpen. the others turned at once by that, eyes widening as the man looked at them with his usual tight smile.

"oh my god, that's gideon." emily breathed out, their eyes following the man as he climbed up the stairs.

seeing the man arriving from his office blinds, hotch stood up and walked to his door, opening it slightly as he peeked out to call for her.

"sainz, in my office."

 · • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

after exchaning their pleasantries, gideon had no chance to even blink before he saw the utter look of besottedness from the girl to her chief. he stared between the two inquisitively as he leaned back on the small shelf on the right side of the desk. franz took a seat across hotch, smiling too cheerfully for the men's liking.

hotch cleared his voice as he turned to jason before settling to the trainee in front of him, "as you know, it is mandatory for you to undergo a psychological evaluation after what had transpired."

she kept her eyes on him, listening intently—not to his words though but to his voice. he already knew the girl was barely conscious, her mind focusing on other matters and he had to roll his eyes inwardly in humor at that.

"obviously, i asked strauss to let me handle it. later on, i realized how biased my evaluations would be." he leaned back to his office chair, gesturing with his right hand to his former chief, "so, here we are. i brought gideon in to conduct the evaluations."

she grinned, turning to the older man with her eyes shining with its usual glint of mischief. franz shook her head lightly as she spoke self-assuredly, "he can't do the evaluations, sir, because he likes me."

hotch shut his eyes resignedly at her quip. the prestigious former chief, however, was less than amused, yet brows raising slightly in intrigue—a contrast to his monotone voice, "i can see that."

gideon stood up from his leaning and clasped his hand, putting her sarcasm at the back of his mind, "let's start."

he rounded the table as hotch stood up, the other taking his seat. her current unit chief moves to sit at the back of his office, silently waiting for them to start as he opted to observe.

"aaron," jason said suggestively as he puts on his glasses and opens the folder, scanning her files.

the man called did not move, his eyes narrowing at the sound of his name and refusing to acknowledge the other's gesture. with that, the older man raised his head from the paperworks to him. as he sees the all-so-familiar look from his former superior, hotch closed his eyes and sighed, standing up at once.

"wow, i've never seen him get kicked out of his own office so easily." franz chuckled lightly, her eyes still at ths sight of her boss descending the stairs. her laughter, however, dried when she turned back to gideon, only to see him looking at her pointedly.

"i've read the case report. i understand the need to take the shot."

they began the test, asking and answering questions back-and-forth, both related to the case and not. a good thirty minutes passed by with the man only using a single sheet to put down any observations. if it was a good thing or a bad thing, she had no idea.

gideon moved to more direct questions, frankly pertaining to the previous case now.

"i do not feel bad at all. is that a problem, sir?" she looked at her nails on her lap before leaning back on the chair and raising her head to him.

"it might be." gideon plainly said in observation.

"you know, i had to be prepared for this evaluation. get my facts right." he began, leaning on his back as well and removing his glasses, letting it dangle on his chest, "and so, i obviously looked at your records."

he paused for a good number of seconds, focusing at the papers in front of them in thinking of his following words before looking at her directly in the eyes, voice full of calmness and inquiry, "tell me, why did you intentionally fail your firearms proficiency?"

"how did you know?" she could not help the look of small surprise on her face as the man saw the pattern in her proficiency results.

he simply smiles at that, the gesture reminding the girl of who he is, "a trade secret."

franz chuckled inwardly at his secrecy. she pursed her lips, already knowing that her reasoning won't be enough for him, "i rather not carry a weapon, sir."

"why?" he was purely intrigued by that. a choice to not carry any firearm in this field of work... it was rare—and utterly foolish.

a playful smile slowly made its way on her lips, seeing the opening, "a trade secret."

"sainz," gideon smirked at her immediate wittiness, leaning forward with crossed fingers on the table, "do you play chess?"

 · • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

after they finished, the two vacated the office, gideon nearing rossi right away. the two went to the coffee maker, probably staying there to chat lightheartedly. there was something so endearing about their small reunion, the rest of the team smiling at the sight of the two grandfathers of the bau.

"gideon's awesome—not like manly cool, but more of a grandma cool." reid stated with raised brows, the same way he shares random facts, his admiration for the man as clear as day.

a memory resurfaced in derek's mind, the old man screaming suddenly in a room facing the window as they were observing the victim's home. he shrugged at that but smiled nonetheless, "he's a bit questionable at times but he was a great chief."

francesca nodded with a soft smile as they recall their moments with their former chief, who unfortunately, she did not get the chance to work with officially. she could see it though—their description of him.

"If you could only see the look of disappointment on his face when i suck at chess." she chuckled as she shared to them her poor excuse of plays. she knew how to play, but strategizing was never her strong suit. sainz was a girl who preferred to be head-on.

she twirled around her office chair, listening to both men when jj rounded up the corner with the widest smile.

"look who's visiting!"

"why do we suddenly have a lot of visitors today?" franz questioned as she stood up from her seat, looking at her arrival. jj's grin was something the girl has dubbed as her mom grin. she removed her hands from the insides of her pocket at the realization, "jj... no."

"we thought this week must have been so stressing for you." jj began cheerily, the sounds of kids nearing them, "now, i don't know what makes you happy aside from hotch, but i do know that these kids can make everyone's day better."

her eyes widened as she finally see two boys around the same age and immediately turned back at once, as if mouthing to reid.

"spence, i do not like—"

"henry!"

she was cut off by the cheer in the voice of the boy genius, him crouching down to jj's kid. derek only laughed at her expression. awkwardness was a rare sight on the girl, moreso that it's as simple as children that causes it.

"hey... guys." franz made a pathetic attempt of a wave, her voice void of any comfort.

jack, hotch's kid, fist-bumped with morgan as little henry turned to her, "mom says you're stressed. this makes the stress go away."

she stood awkwardly as the kid hugged her, patting his back unsurely, "yeah... thanks, buddy."

sainz looked at his mother and whisper-yelled, "jj, stop making excuses to bring kids here."

"it's december!" the mother exclaimed with a chuckle, "they always visit during december."

penelope exclaimed at the sight of the kids too, showing familiarity as she ushered them forwards, "let's go, boys. your legos and other toys are still in my office."

both boys grinned at that, starting to follow garcia but turned back to the new face as they took hold of her hands.

"wha—no, no," she protested, finding it futile as they finally reached the doors just by the kids dragging her.

it's going to be a long day.

 · • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

"how did it go?" hotch asked with curiosity dripping from his tone as he entered his office again, closing the blinds for some privacy.

"great," gideon stood up from the seat, his eyes lingering on her name on the folder. he tapped his fingers on it before looking back to aaron, "she has a lot of potential. where did you find her?"

"from a lecture," he replied simply, crossing his arms on his chest, "feedback?"

his former chief's brows narrowed a bit at his short and vague answer. he mentally noted that before divulging his observations, "i do not think the case and the encounter affected her much. she has a strong personality, high loyalty and confidence, and understands the job and its demands. she is not easily affected."

hotch nodded at that, seemingly relieved, "that's good. she's fit for field duty then?"

"give this report to strauss."

he moved forward and took the folder from the other man's hand, his eyes landing on another sheet of paper with scribbled notes that he can only presume as something that should not be disclosed.

"she will be an excellent agent and profiler," gideon sighed as he kept his eyes to the man, observing even the slightest change in his expression, "good thing we got her first."

"jason, what does this mean?" hotch finally looked back at him as he gestured on the paper, confusion apparent on his features.

"she's very turbulent." he pursed his lips as he explained his analysis of her actions and disposition, "so far, manipulation and lack of empathy and remorse are the only apparent signs."

"still, i stand by what i said first, and those qualities are what exactly makes her just a potential one." he walked from the desk to the windows, maintaining his gaze outside as he continued, "francesca's incredibly self-aware, aaron. i think she might even already know she's all i'm explaining right now."

jason could not help but compare her to a bird. what kind? he doesn't know yet. perhaps, the reason is because the girl has not fully hatched yet.

what she will be? the world is yet to know.

"for what it's worth, she likes you," he breaks the silence and the tension from the newfound information as he turned back to look at hotch's expression. he could see his eyes reading the page over and over again, yet stopping at once by the mention, "genuinely."

he neared him again, asking with genuine interest. hotch was sharp. he was not someone who gets side-tracked easily, "did you really not know?"

aaron clicked his tongue lightly at that, putting down the file, "that she's bordering on aspd? of course, not."

"then you were right to call me." gideon stated suggestively, watching as hotch's jaw hardened ever so slightly, "maybe, your judgement is indeed biased."

he apologizes if he was having a hard time believing it—that the girl who's laughing and playing with his son and henry just meters away from him has those qualities. francesca is a young adult—a very rocky, confusing, and unstable age.

and so, he continues to tell himself that as he descends the stairs from his office.

the previous unit chief caught up with the others for a bit as sainz turned and immediately grinned to him as always.

she narrowed her eyes at him in mock-thinking, her fingers resting on her chin as she hummed, "sir, let me guess your mbti. you're istj, aren't you?"

this girl could not possibly have psychopathic tendencies. his mind scanned through each and every interaction they had, and he came up with nothing. for some reason, he could not help the the feeling of protectiveness over her. perhaps, gideon was wrong.

perhaps, gideon just doesn't know her.

and so, he allowed a small smile grace his lips as she maintained her sight on him, grinning so widely with pride as if knowing she was right.

before he could even answer, the boys dragged her away to play again. franz groaned at them stealing her time with the boss, yet a genuine smile appeared on her features as she tickled jack upon catching him.

this girl in front of him is not what gideon says.

but perhaps, like gideon, he doesn't know her as well.

[zahri-melitor]

Batman v Ra's Al Ghul, by Neal Adams: A Bronze Age fever dream of a comic, written in 2019-2021.

Neal Adams caps off his over 50 year career with DC comics by...them letting him write a book for the first time in a decade.

Now, Adams is famous for his Bronze Age artwork, not his writing, and it's deservedly so: this is not the comic you would pick up if you were interested in award winning writing. But I have to say, it's actually something far more fun than 'good writing'.

I think the easiest way to describe the incredibly wild vibes of this title are 'Adams writes a multiverse Bronze Age time travel AU fic', where the cast technically consists of a modern set of characters (Dick is Nightwing and both Tim and Damian are Robin), but all of the characters are drawn, talking and acting like they just walked off a page in 1974 or so.

For assistance, that's: Dick in the yellow with the very 70s black vest; Tim in the blue t-shirt; Damian in the red t-shirt; and Bruce in the suit. You end up keeping track of them in this title by their haircuts.

Bruce and Damian here cannot remember anything about being Batman and Robin; Dick and Tim appear to have shown up with a fantastical story that cannot be proven (as I said, this has INCREDIBLE reality hopping AU vibes).

Some of the characters have been mindwiped. Some of the characters are robot duplicates. A whole list of characters Adams helped create show up largely because he created them (seriously Kirk and Francine Langstrom show up for a couple of pages mostly to give Dick and Tim an airlift into a difficult to reach entrance to the Cave). Nobody sounds particularly in character at any point, but that's not really a problem in this comic, because what it really is is a giant jolt of Bronze Age style writing nostalgia direct to the brainstem.

They don't make comics like this anymore and reading one written in the 2020s like this reinforces why.

Deadman's brother Aaron and sister Zeea show up; his brother is busy pretending to be an alternate Australian version of Batman called Marvin O'Hearn, and his sister is a psychic running around in the most 70s outfit imaginable controlling things and mindwiping Bruce on Ra's orders.

(And yes, if you too just asked 'Boston Brand has siblings???' the answer is 'kinda sorta but definitely not these two', however given Adams was writing Boston in 1968 at one point he's got as much right as anyone else to claim there are additional siblings)

There's a group who PRETEND to be the Court of Owls but secretly are a group of industrialists called The Money who want to control the world via paying for legislators, judges and industry (and yes I realise that sounds exactly like the Court's thing, but Adams was almost 80 when he wrote this, he can have an expy Court if he wants one).

Bruce pretends to be Matches for a good chunk of the back end of this comic and it actually acknowledges that Matches Malone was a real gangster before he died and Bruce stole his identity (something other writers and the fandom often forget), because Adams wants one more spin with the character he designed.

There's also a moment in the sixth issue where one of Ra's pet scientists tries to sell a panel of Gotham execs on a perpetual motion machine based on electrolysis as his replacement for the current Gotham power generators and at this point I lost it giggling at the portrayal of Ra's as a cheap charlatan.

(There is also a sneaky joke that only works if you know what British salad cream is; there's this sequence of the kids talking about Alfred making sandwiches with 'crappy salad dressing' instead of mayonnaise, only this tray has been made with mayo...and it's a hint that Alfred has been replaced by a robot. I laughed; I suspect it might be non-obvious to American audiences)

This is not a comic to read if you are interested in 'main continuity' or 'coherence' or even 'good writing'. However if you want some wild antics that feel like someone's 3am fanfic AU written in pure Bronze Age vibes and to see the last work of one of Ra's Al Ghul's creators? Give it a chance. You'll never be able to predict what's on the next page.

[numnue]

sometimes i think about buff aaron minyard and my brain just goes numb

like yeah yeah andrew minyard is buff but he’s also an exy goalie - it’s kind of the norm

but aaron minyard is a med student, eventual doctor and i just avavsjsbsnskshabah

like imagine you’re in your doctors office for an appointment and you’re kind of nervous because you have a new doctor and you don’t really do well in new situations and in walks this buff, 5’0 even, blond guy with the widest shoulders you’ve ever seen and he’s polite and introduces himself and his last name is kinda familiar but you can’t place it

anyways he begins your checkup and leans in closer to take your heart beat, his face is near yours and you realize he has holes in his lips from snake bite piercings and holes all up his ears

so your new doctor is incredibly short, incredibly buff, and used to be incredibly emo (and judging by that huge ring on his finger, incredibly married)

nice to know nice to know

[moralesmilesanhour]

hey can I request maybe like a drabble or something with 42 miles confiding in uncle Aaron?

maybe he has a crush or something idk I just think their dynamics is cute

oooh this was fun! hope you enjoy :)

Aaron's nephew had been...different, lately. Not some drastic metamorphosis, no, it was the little things that Miles did differently.

When Aaron paid Rio a visit to pick him up, Miles would stop in front of a mirror and adjust his leather jacket (because he apparently wore leather, now) where a few weeks ago he would've just thrown on whatever was lying near his bed before bolting out the door.

Imagine the surprise on the man's face when the kid asked if he could take him to get his ears pierced, marveling in the bathroom mirror at the shiny new rocks in his ears even after getting chewed out by his mother just minutes before.

Miles sat on the couch as smooth jazz music filtered through Aaron's record player, one arm resting on the back of the couch and legs spread as he used the other arm to scroll on his phone.

He didn't sit criss-cross-applesauce anymore.

Aaron opened the box of pizza sitting across from them on the coffee table and carefully removed a slice. Underneath the smell of baked cheese, he caught a whiff of musk and vanilla that confirmed his suspicions, and possibly where the kid had spent that extra cash he'd given him after their last run (or 'prowl', as they'd started jokingly calling it). The tenth-grader had suddenly taken an interest in cologne.

"You not taking no pizza?"

Miles looked up, suddenly alert. "Huh? Oh, nah, I'm good."

A deep chuckle.

"What?"

Aaron shook his head. "I ain't never seen yo' hungry ass turn down pizza 'till today. You sure you my nephew, man?"

The boy forced out a breathy laugh.

"First time for everything. I'm just not hungry."

As if in protest, Miles' stomach let out an unmistakable growl that cut through even the music. His eyes widened, letting his uncle know that it wasn't indigestion. Aaron cackled loudly as his nephew pouted.

"See that? Even yo' stomach know you lyin'," he said. "Now what's the real reason?"

Miles shrugged.

"The garlic stays on your breath."

"Boy, you think I don't know that? When you start caring about your breath all of a sudden?"

He gave his uncle a blank stare of annoyance at the implications of that sentence, and didn't answer. When he returned to scrolling, Aaron decided to be more direct.

"You ain't slick, you know that? Now spill. Who is she?"

Miles froze, his head snapping up in surprise.

"Or he," Aaron amended as an afterthought. "I don't judge."

"How did you know?"

"Well, between you and me," he scratched the side of his nose, "your mother and I always figured you might be--"

"No, not--" The boy's brows furrowed. "Wait, what? I mean, well..."

He stopped himself before veering into territory he wasn't ready to cover yet. Different conversation for a different day.

Miles shook his head, "Never mind. Anyway, her name's...Alicia."

He said her name quietly, delicately, as though it could shatter into a million pieces if handled incorrectly.

Aaron nodded slowly.

"Y'all go out?"

A noncommittal back-and-forth tilt of the head. Kinda.

"We're hanging out later tonight. Study date," Miles said carefully.

"You like her?"

"Yeah."

Aaron raised an eyebrow, and leaned in. "You sure? I mean, really like her."

"Yeah, I like her, chill!"

"Aight, just makin' sure. She get good grades, and allat?"

The boy smiled, his expression softening.

"Mhm. Hella smart," his eyes lit up as he recalled a recent memory.

"One time, she told off the history teacher 'cuz the textbook we were reading from was wrong. Told his white ass to do his research."

"Was it wrong?"

"Course it was, and everyone knew, too! Everybody except the nigga with the PhD."

A lopsided grin spread across Aaron's face. This 'Alicia' sounded just like Miles' type, if the boy's sudden and frequent rants about the failures of the American public school system were anything to go by.

"She sound like a keeper. Treat her good, you hear? You take that girl someplace nice, hold the door and pull her chair out."

His nephew laughed, then nodded. "I hear you. Don't gotta tell me twice."

"You'd better. Now get outta here, no nephew of mine is gonna keep a lady waiting."

"Bet. I'll see you later, Unc!"

The boy hopped to his feet, giving his uncle a salute before turning to leave.