#ex boyfriend aaron hotchner
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escapismurmom ¡ 2 months ago
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Please help me find a fic Found it!
I've been trying to find this college!Aaron Hotchner x reader fanfic. In this fic Hotch and Haley broke up for college. During college Hotch ends up dating reader (or an oc I'm not sure). He ends up leaving her for Haley.
Years later they meet again, when reader becomes a person of interest in a case. Arguments ensue.
Does anyone know the name or author?
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miley1442111 ¡ 5 months ago
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protective- a.hotchner
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summary: aaron (literally) fights for you
pairing: aaron hotchner x bau!fem! reader
warnings: angst, talk of abuse, violence, general cm topics, crying, reader is a victim of DV (not aaron), gross men (i think that's it?)
not entirely proofread
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Aaron Hotchner was a leader that you’d known from the beginning. He was your team leader, he was calm, collected, and calculated in everything. His lunch was the same everyday, he didn’t drink, didn’t smoke, didn’t swear all that often, and he wore the same sequence of shirts and suits every week. He was organised. 
Mondays was a blue shirt with a black suit, Tuesdays was a white shirt with a navy suit, Wednesdays was a white shirt with a black suit, Thursdays was a blue shirt with a grey suit, and Fridays was a white shirt with navy suit. Everything was fine and dandy, you trusted him, and you enjoyed his company. Everything was fine, until it wasn't. 
One stupid day, 8 whole months after you and your ex had broken up, he just so happens to be at the same bar you and the team are celebrating in, and he must’ve made it his personal mission to find you, to shout at you, to get you back. To piss you off. It hadn’t exactly been a good week, but then again, what week is when you’re dealing with murder cases? 
“Y/n,” Penelope sighed, looking out at the rest of the team on the ‘dance floor’. “I don’t understand,” she drew out the ‘understand’ to a ridiculous length, purely to annoy you. “How are you two so perfect?”
“Keep your voice down!” you hissed, turning back to her again. “We may not be at work but this is a work dinner.”
Did I mention he was your boyfriend too? 
“Have you seen yourself?” she gawked. “You’re gorgeous! He’s gorgeous! You two would make perfect babies” 
You chuckled. “I thank you for the flattery, but we can be honest here, he’s fucking gorgeous, and yeah, I’m alright,” you laughed when she hit you lovingly. “And, we’ve been together for 6 months, not 6 years. No babies for like… a while at least.”
“Y/n!” Charles’ voice rang out in the bar, meaning everyone around you turned to your group. “You fucking blocked me?!”He came up behind you, placing a tense hand on your shoulder, gripping the skin there until it hurt. “What kind of bitch does that?”
“Me, I guess,” you answered simply, staring straight down at your drink. Charles hadn’t been a very good boyfriend, nor a good person, and you didn’t really understand why you’d stayed for so long. Something about watching women get killed by their partners kind of snapped you into reality. Not that he was that bad but, he wasn’t good.
“Yeah right, you bitch. Unblock me, we need to talk about this!” 
“About what?” you scoffed, rolling your eyes. “We broke up 8 months ago, let it die Charles.”
“Baby, I miss you,” he leaned in closer, his breath heavy with alcohol. “I miss that pretty pussy too.”
You shuttered with disgust. “Get the fuck off of me,” you punctuated each word carefully and spoke slowly, making sure he heard you.
“Don’t be like that baby,” he smirked, tightening his grip. “Or it won’t end well.”   
You felt it. The gun in his holster. He wasn’t past killing you, you knew that. You knew he wasn’t safe. He never had been. He just wanted to get you home and into his bed, and you’d rather that than dead. 
“Get off of her,” Penelope demanded. He turned his attention to her, and you instinctively reached for your gun, only to remember that you left it at home. You weren’t about to let him hurt Pen. “And who may you be?” he asked. “Don’t,” you gritted out. “You’re here for me, not her.”
He turned his attention back to you. “I know that sweetheart, I don’t see why I can’t chat, do you?” 
“Let’s just go,” you told him. He nodded, a smug smirk on his face. You got up, his hand stayed on your shoulder the whole time, his other hand on his hip. 
“Good girl,” his laugh was dirty. Everything about him was dirty and sleazy and it made you sick. But again, better you than Penlope. 
Penelope’s eyes searched for someone, anyone to see you. He needed Morgan, o-or Hotch, or just anyone. “Hotch!” she called when she finally caught his eye. He rushed over to her. 
“Are you alright?” he asked, searching her for injury or signs of upset. 
“Y/n a-and this tall guy, he was talking to her and then she just got up a-and left. She looked scared. I-I didn’t know what to do,” she stuttered through her sentence, tears building in her eyes. 
You. Scared. You. Scared. You. Scared. You. Scared. You. Scared. You. Scared. You. Scared. You. Scared. 
It played in his head like a sick mantra until he finally did something. He rushed out of there as fast as he could. He had to find you. He needed to find you. 
He ran down the alley beside the bar, nothing. Ran down the road with Morgan on his tail, nothing. Cars weren’t even moving, it was just a regular night. 
“Y/n!” Spencer called out to you. 
There you were. Leaning against a car with him standing over you. 
The three of them rushed over, ready to just take you back inside. They didn’t know how dangerous Charles was, how obsessed he was. 
“Stop!” you warned them. “Go back inside, I’m alright, I promise.” 
“We’re not leaving you here,” Derek argued. “Man, get off of her-”
Charles scoffed. “She wants this, she’s into it. It’s just some harmless fun!” 
Aaron almost recoiled out of disgust. He knew what you were into, and he knew it wasn’t this. It had taken you almost the full 6 months you’d been with him to even be comfortable enough to kiss or touch him in public. You didn’t talk about it but… it did come with the territory of being a behavioural analyst. He noticed how you shied away from the way he touched you sometimes, he noticed how you refused to drink a drop of alcohol, he noticed how you flinched at big noises, he noticed how you held his hand during sex. All of these little things, it led him to one conclusion, you’d been abused. 
He promised himself if he ever got to meet the fucker, he’d hurt him, if not kill him. 
Then in came Charles, and thus began the night Aaron Hotchner ended up in jail for aggravated assault. 
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You sat in the police station, your head hung low. This was all your fault, none of this would’ve happened if you’d just-
“It’s not your fault,” Aaron whispered as he sat beside you, putting his cufflinks back on. Of course, you’d bailed him out and he’d gotten off with a warning and a fine, which was pretty good considering what he did to the guy. “Please don’t blame yourself.” 
You shook your head, willing yourself not to cry. “Aaron you got in a fight because of-”
“A choice I made to provoke a dangerous person,” he finished. “A choice I made.”
You nodded. “Aaron, your lip,” you placed a gentle hand on his cheek which he leaned into. His lip was split, he had a bruise forming on his head, and you knew his back was sore from the fight. You knew how hard Charles could hit. 
“My lip is fine, I promise. The paramedics gave me some painkillers. Are you alright?”
The dreaded question. No, you were hilariously, awfully, un-alright. You had to see Charles again, he touched you again, he talked to you again. You shook your head, tearing up.  Aaron didn’t shy away. He held you as you sobbed in that police precinct. He didn’t care about anyone staring, he didn’t care that the team was waiting outside, he didn’t care. He cared about you. You were all that mattered in that moment, and every moment after it.
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criminal minds masterlist :)
navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, obx, the bear, marvel, top gun, the hunger games :)
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certaimromance ¡ 5 months ago
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ꫂ ၴႅၴ Effects of the Curse.
Aaron Hotchner x Fem!reader
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Summary: After receiving some outside comments, the topic of marriage comes up. Unfortunately, you and Aaron have different views on the matter.
Words: 2,7k.
Warnings & Tags: mention to marriage, divorce, jack and haley. angst WITHOUT happy ending. established relationship. about a year after hotch's departure from the fbi. english isn't my first language (sorry for my mistakes, be kind please).
Note: As a person who wants to get married, this is pretty personal lol.
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You were leaning against one of the kitchen counters as you waited for the water you had put in the kettle to heat up and allow you to brew coffee. Behind you, you could hear your boyfriend rummaging through the cupboard for your favorite mug and carefully placing it next to his, going through the same routine the two of you had already established.
But something was feeling different this time.
It had more to do with your memories of the family dinner you'd gone to the day before, where there hadn't been a single person who hadn't asked when you were going to officially become Mrs. Hotchner, when you were going to take that big step down the aisle, and maybe even expand the family beyond that. It was a little silly for you to think so much about it, because those were the typical comments people made when they saw a functioning couple, and it had happened to you before with ex-boyfriends you took home, but this time it felt more serious.
Maybe it was because of how your heart was racing as you imagined wearing a ring that would show your total commitment to love someone to death, or maybe it was how Aaron reacted, or rather his lack of reaction, and how much that bothered you.
The sunlight streaming in through the kitchen window and filtering through the trees in the yard had you so mesmerized at that moment that you barely felt when his arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you closer to him. You were so caught up in your thoughts that you let out a slight sound of surprise and relaxed a little under his touch.
“What is on your mind? Perhaps the new coffee maker we should definitely consider purchasing?” He asked with a cheerful tone.
Yes, you two definitely had to buy a new one after the old one suddenly stopped working. But that wasn't what you were thinking about. You were a long way from that.
“Sure, we should do that.” Your answer was blurted out almost out of obligation and came out robotically.
He wasn't stupid, nor had he lost the habits of a profiler after so many years as one. He knew you well enough to know that something was troubling you, even if he didn't know exactly why. He pulled you a little closer and planted a small kiss on the top of your head, tightening his grip on your waist a little more to comfort you as he spoke.
“Darling.” He murmured softly, wanting you to give him your full attention. “I can practically see the gears turning in your head, what's wrong with you?”
You, were what you wanted to say.
“Nothing, just...it's been a long day.” That was all that came out of your mouth.
To tell the truth, it had been an exhausting day, and at least you hadn't lied that much. You had been very restless, trying to do many things to keep the destructive thoughts out of your mind, and it had made you quite tired.
“Don't try to fool me. I know you well enough to know when you are lying.” He gently pinched the sides of your waist and turned you to look into his eyes.
“I...I was just thinking about some things my family said yesterday.” You finally confessed, your voice a little shaky, as if telling him would embarrass you.
“Like what?” He furrowed his brow in concern, brushing a hand against your cheek in that way that always made you feel a bit weak in the knees.
His touch was so warm and loving against your skin, and for a moment, it almost made you forget what you were thinking about. Almost.
“Just a few things about how I haven't married you yet, and...” You didn't even want to finish the sentence, feeling your heart beat a little faster as the words got stuck in your throat. “That we don't have, you know, kids.”
Aaron took a quick look at your face as he heard your confession. His heart clenched a little as he realized what you were talking about, and he couldn't help but be curious about it. The topic of marriage and having children hadn't come up much since you started dating because he already had Jack and had been married once. It was a goal he'd already achieved. However, he knew it was a topic that needed to be discussed, as he saw your worried expression and slightly trembling voice.
He put his hands on your shoulders, giving them a gentle massage to relieve the tension. He didn't want to seem careless or unconcerned, so he spoke after pausing.
“And you were worried because...?”
He looked at you with a kind of intense gaze that made you feel like your heart was going to burst out of your chest at any moment. As he massaged your shoulders, you took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself.
“Well, from the way you reacted, I guess.” You admitted, your voice full of doubt. “I mean, I know we haven't really talked about it, but...it's hard to know what you're thinking when the subject comes up and you have that cold expression on your face, like it's nothing relevant.”
His expression softened, and he brought his hands to your face, cupping your cheeks to make sure you were looking directly at him.
“You know very well that I have already taken care of that.” He said softly, trying to find the best words. “Marriage, children...I had that. I have Jack. And he's enough for me.”
Enough for him. Were you too?
His words had a surprising effect on you, leaving you with a somewhat bitter taste in your mouth. Despite this, you maintained a calm exterior, striving to conceal your true feelings.
“And what about what's enough for me?” You inquired, addressing the issue with a candor you had previously avoided. The words emerged from your mouth almost involuntarily.
Hotchner was taken aback by your question. The way you asked it gave the impression that you were accusing him, although he was unsure if this was the intention. He took a deep breath, searching for the most tactful way to respond to your words.
“I...I didn't realize.” He began, pausing for a moment to collect his thoughts. “You never mentioned that you wanted to get married or have children. I thought you were happy with our current situation.”
“Not really.” You admitted, avoiding eye contact as you looked down at the floor. “I mean, I really love Jack, he's a wonderful boy.”
Aaron listened intently as you continued, your words coming out hesitantly.
“And being with you...it makes me so happy.” You sighed and leaned back against the kitchen counter. “But…I feel like I need more. I want more, and I'm not necessarily talking about a child. I want to know that you belong to me as much as I belong to you.”
Aaron walked over and stood in front of you, placing his hands on your hips. He stared at you as he spoke, his voice soft but firm.
“Darling, my love...I belong to you, and you belong to me, and you don't need a ring to know that. If you want one, I'll buy it for you, that or whatever you want.”
You let out a small sigh and leaned closer to him, resting your head on his chest. You could hear the steady beat of his heart as he held you tightly and his body enveloped you in a warm embrace.
“I know.” You said quietly, the words somewhat muffled against his shirt. “But it's not just about the ring. It's about the commitment, the symbol of our union...and how that gives me security.”
He ran his fingers through your hair gently as he listened, his touch soothing against your scalp.
“Listen to me.” He began, his tone affectionate. “I've always been committed to you. From the moment I allowed myself to open up to you to the first night we spent together, and every day since. You know it. Does it really take a ceremony to make you believe it?”
When you looked at him, you felt a rush of emotions. You knew he loved you, and he was right. He had shown you his commitment many times. You had even been living together for a couple of years. But there was still a part of you that longed for that tangible symbol of love.
“I don't doubt you.” You said, choosing your words carefully. “But it's about symbolism. Having physical proof of our commitment shows the world how firmly bound we are to each other. And I know you believe in it. You were married once for a reason.”
Oh, that's a sensitive topic.
He let out a small sigh when you mentioned his previous marriage, and his fingers stopped stroking your hair. It was an uncomfortable and painful subject he didn't like to talk about, especially with you. The memories of his failed marriage were difficult to process, not only because of Haley's death but also because of the many problems that had plagued their relationship before its sad end.
“Maybe I believed that before, or at least I thought I did.” He replied after a short pause. “But that doesn't mean I want to go through it all again.”
“Even with me?” You asked softly, lifting your head to look into his eyes. There was a hint of vulnerability and sadness in your expression, your heart trembling slightly in anticipation of his answer. “Even in the future?”
Aaron observed your expression and the slight shift in your demeanor. He was aware of the impact his words could have on you, and he took care to choose them carefully. He gently traced your features with the back of his hand, his thumb gently moving across your face.
“This isn't about you or time at all.” He said in a soft voice, trying to express his love for you. “I just couldn't go through that again. The expectations, the disappointment, the divorce. It's too much.”
As he spoke, he paused and closed his eyes for a moment, trying to contain his emotions. His previous marriage had left him deeply scarred, and the thought of suffering the same fate again, especially with you, filled him with dread. He silently prayed every day that history would never repeat itself.
But your situation was quite different. The concerns he expressed, which he did not fully explain, only served to increase your doubts. You were aware that Aaron had every reason to be fearful after experiencing so much in the past, but you were surprised that he seemed to be afraid to be with you in front of the law.
How could he be so sure that a marriage with you would end in divorce? If his demanding job could no longer be the cause of the failure, could it perhaps be something else? Could it be you?
“You're not the same as before, and I'm not-” You started to say when you were interrupted by a loud whistle.
The unexpected sound of the kettle whistling gently interrupts the moment between the two, if only for a brief moment, allowing you both to take a breath.
He carefully put out the fire and poured the steaming water into the cups he had thoughtfully prepared earlier. He then added a teaspoon of sugar to each and a little milk to yours, taking care to ensure it was just the way you liked it. As you both watched the hot liquid swirl in the cups, he let out a sigh. Aaron felt a sense of responsibility, knowing he wasn't able to deliver what you desired.
Hotchner handed you your cup with care, ensuring that he did not accidentally burn himself in the process. The kitchen fell silent as he stood next to you while you both sipped your coffee, lost in your own thoughts.
The taste of coffee with a little milk on your tongue distracted you from the heavy atmosphere that had settled between you and him in the kitchen. In that moment, you took the opportunity to watch him closely and try to decipher what he was thinking. Maybe use a little of what you had learned from being with a profiler for so long.
His face was set, and you could easily see the emotion in his eyes. He was not happy with the conversation, and his expression had given him away from the first crossword on the subject.
When Aaron noticed you staring at him in the midst of his silence, he looked up into your eyes and held them for a few seconds. He knew exactly what you were trying to do, but it didn't bother him. Being a profiler, he found it ironic, and a small smile appeared on his lips.
“You can look at me all you want.” He said with a dry laugh. “And try to profile me if you want.”
“It's not that...” You began to say, but you knew he was right. That was precisely what you were attempting to do, trying to discern his feelings, even utilizing some profiling techniques he had taught you himself. You let out a small sigh, feeling a little foolish for your lack of subtlety.
Of course he'd realize. The man could leave the FBI, but the FBI couldn't leave the man.
“I find it challenging not to.” You confessed, tilting your head and taking a sip of your coffee. “I've picked up on some of your habits, I suppose.”
He let out a soft chuckle, acknowledging that you were trying to get a read on him and feeling relieved to see the earlier tension ease. He lifted the cup to his lips and took a small sip, letting the hot liquid warm his insides before speaking in a friendly tone.
“And what have I taught you?” He asked, raising an eyebrow curiously.
“A few things.” You replied, with a hint of sarcasm. “Like how to spot lies, read body language, and how to read people well. Basically, all the skills required to be a profiler, except how to not profile your loved one.”
“I see your point.” He replied, a soft smile on his face, grateful that things between you were feeling good again. “Perhaps I should have taught you that last part too, but you would have made a good profiler.”
“I would have made a good wife too.” The comment came out before you could stop yourself, and you immediately covered your mouth with your fingers after saying it.
Aaron's smile faded as soon as you spoke, and the tension in the room intensified. He exhaled, a combination of fatigue and frustration, and placed the half-finished coffee on the counter behind you before crossing his arms in front of his chest.
“I'm sorry.” You spoke up before he could even open his mouth, hoping to get a word in first.
“Don't.” His answer came almost automatically.
It was then that you grabbed your cell phone after hearing it vibrate, hoping to avoid the situation. “It's the seamstress. Jack's costume is ready.”
He nodded silently as you picked up the cell phone from the kitchen table. The comment was still in the air, and you sensed that he had heard it, but he didn't react at all. Instead, he seemed relieved that the awkward moment between the two was over, if only temporarily.
Thank you, Halloween.
After a brief pause, Aaron inquired gently. “Would you like me to accompany you to collect it?”
“I believe it would be best if I went alone.” You replied after a moment. “I need to take some time to process things, and you need to wait for your son. He will be out of school soon.”
Aaron felt a slight discomfort in his chest at your words. He recognized the truth in what you said, that some time apart might be beneficial for both of you to reflect on the conversation and all that was left unsaid.
And after that, you proceeded to retrieve your keys and walked through the door without so much as a moment's hesitation. This time, there wasn't even an ‘I love you’ or a goodbye kiss as a reminder that all was well. This time, the silence conveyed a message that was perhaps more profound than any gesture or sweet word.
In the end, the marriage was scarier than any Halloween costume.
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i-get-obsessed-fast ¡ 26 days ago
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Spencer Reid
Dad spencer! (more coming soon)
Oh baby : you and Spencer unexpectedly become parents despite not being together officially -> Family : under unexpected and intense circumstances, the team uncovers you and Spencer Reids biggest secrets- your relationship and the baby on the way.
Sweet spencer!
Home With You : After a long and emotionally exhausting day, you come home feeling overwhelmed from the weight of your job but luckily your sweet loving boyfriend is there to comfort you.
Coffee and Journals : You step out of your comfort zone and meet a guy in a coffee shop who you somehow befriend, and end up in the theaters with him translating a Russian film.
Lacy : You see your ex and his new girlfriend out at the bar and can’t help but feel a bit insecure, but no worries because Spencer Reid is there to remind you of your worth.
I'm the flower, you're the bee : you and Spencer celebrate a year together, and he surprises you in the most sweetest way…
Hotch's Daughter! (more coming soon)
Genius : You make an unexpected visit to your dad’s workplace after months apart and come across the brilliant nerdy genius who you’ve secretly admired for years.
Under Watch : A string of murders on your college campus brings your estranged father and his team to investigate. To keep you safe, he assigns Spencer Reid to watch over you.
Mini series!
Breach pt. I Breach pt. II : [completed] Where Reader gets kidnapped with Aaron Hotchner and forced to do things that puts them in an uncomfortable position, and Dr. Spencer Reid is determined to help reader get back to a new normal.
Hurt/sad Spencer!
Out of Love : All the late nights, missed phone calls and canceled dates finally caught up to you and Spencer.
Step on me : You want more, he doesn’t. So you pretend to be okay with it because it’s easier than not having him at all.
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hotwritergf ¡ 8 months ago
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Comfort item🧸
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It has been a hell of a day. Early rise and a late finish, with maybe 5 minutes worth of a lunch break in between few cigarettes stops. Getting on the jet felt like finally being able to breathe. The unsub was caught, the case cracked, justice served. That’s what you signed up for. As you open your backpack in your seat, you rummage around in the depths of your bag, a deep sense of guilt and disappointment hitting the pit of your stomach.
You pale, realising you’d left your one comfort item at home.
The whole team had one, Reid had his blanket, Morgan his headphones and JJ a book to read. Yours was rather particular and could not be replaced, your stuffed animal, but he was more than that. He is an Eeyore plushie that you’ve been inseparable with since the day you received him as a birthday gift. Over the years he’d been ripped and sewn up, every time you pretended to give him anaesthetic for his surgery. He’d been with you, through all the nights you couldn’t sleep, the nights you’d cried yourself to sleep. He’d even shared the bed with your ex boyfriends, much to their dismay.
You knew this journey home without Eeyore would be a sleepless one.
"Hi."
Hotch slips himself into the seat next to you. He notices her sitting curled up on the seat and he can't help but notice how miserable you look, curling herself into a ball to almost hide from something.
"Are you doing okay?"
He asks, keeping his voice low to not disturb the others. You whisper in response, just muttering something about being tired.
"You look it. This was a tiring case. You should get some sleep."
He looks across to the others playing cards. Reid was almost definitely cheating again he assumed, as Morgan stared across the table with eyes like daggers, Emily’s head rested on his shoulder as she laughed at the confrontation in front of her.
"They'll probably keep going for a couple more hours if you can ignore them."
You pout, Hotch would be a safe person to share this problem with. He has a child so he’s definitely seen similar conundrums, maybe Jack wasn’t as much as of a baby as you are at the grown age of 22.
“I- I can’t sleep. Not without my Eeyore.”
You mutter under your breath, praying Aaron hears it. Admitting the fact again would be too embarrassing to endure.
He chuckles lightly at her choice of sleep companion.
"And your Eeyore toy is at home?"
He looks down at you, lifting your chin up with his thumb so you look him in the eye. You nod shyly in response, slipping into a nonverbal headspace.
Aaron looks sympathetic as she nods with a frowny face, but he still can’t resist teasing you.
"Aww, you miss your stuffed animal."
He smirks, making a little teasing remark. He matches his facial expression with yours, both modelling pouty frowns. Staring into each other’s eyes, you’re not sure how you started this game of getting the other to break the act and laugh. But you were certainly losing. Your lips curl up into a smirk and you let out a soft breathy giggle, your smile growing when he smirks back.
"Lie down then, come on."
Hotchner pats his lap, offering for her to rest her head on it. He adjusts his position so he's sat more comfortably and begins to gently run his calloused fingers through her hair, gently stroking it.
“This should help you fall asleep, hm?"
You feel the breath you’ve been accidentally holding release, your shoulders fall and for the first time all day you feel calm. You practically purr under his touch, smiling up and nodding at him.
Hotch glances down fondly as his hand continues to gently run through her hair.
"Good."
He lowers his voice to a hushed whisper as to not disturb the other members of the team who are a few seats down.
"You are adorable, you know that?"
You feel your cheeks burn under your new found blush, rolling your head inwards to hide your face in his stomach. You squeal internally, realising you’re basically putty in his hands.
"Hey, what's wrong, hm?"
He questions, still keeping his voice gentle as he glances back down at her, his arms wrapped around her in a tight yet still comfortable hug.
“Nothing.. I- I miss Eeyore, but this is nice too.”
You manage to blurt out, half in nervousness and the other in honesty.
“When you get home, you can tell Eeyore all about how brave you were on your adventure without him. And you’re right, this is nice. Sweet girl, just needed to cuddle up and get a few head scratches. It’s cute you know? It’s precious. Having a comfort item, it doesn’t make you weak.”
Hotch speaks earnestly, running his fingers through your outgrown fridge and tucking the hair behind your ear.
"And I, I'll happily keep doing this as long as it keeps you sleepy. It's kind of cute how much of a baby you are and how easy it is to send you to sleep with a gentle head rub.“
Aaron’s voice sounded like silk, so soft and calming. It makes your eyelids feel heavier until they close. It can’t be that bad to take a nap on your bosses lap, can it?
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rauspberries ¡ 1 month ago
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The Dinner | A.H
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lawyer!aaron hotchner x paralegal!reader.
summary: at a party you don't fit into, you run into the one person you don't want to see. luckily, your hot boss is totally okay to play along, and take care of you afterwards. tags/warnings: afab reader, no use of y/n or description of reader [other than wearing a dress], more hidden flirting and tension, protective & dreamy aaron hotchner, slight age gap, mentions of a narcissistic ex-boyfriend and gross men, mentions of alcohol and drinking, word count: 4.2k notes: I LOVE IT HERE i actually had so much fun writing this
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You don’t know why you agreed to come to this stupid thing.
Usually, you thrived at parties. You wore something that made you desirable, you floated through a room instead of walking, you held a dazzling smile and you attracted the eyes of everyone you wanted to. You enjoyed parties so much that you tended to be the host of them, or at least the person that people went to when they needed something.
But parties like this, filled with lawyers and district attorneys and firm owners, were exhausting. Lawyers, usually men, were arrogant, to the point that it was suffocating. They believed they dominated the world the same way they owned the courtroom, that they were the most convincing batch of people in the world just because they could win a case or two. Being a woman in a room full of drunk male lawyers was not your definition of a fun Friday night.
Glancing around the room, your eyes catch on the reason you were here just as you bring your vodka soda to your lips. The prosecutor you had come to enjoy the presence of was talking with one of the district attorneys, no emotions reflected on his face as he spoke, large hands wrapped around a glass. He looked delectable in a perfectly tailored dark suit, the top button of the navy blue button-up undone and no tie in sight. It was the closest you’d get to seeing him dressed down without ambushing him outside of work.
Aaron had come into your office on his way out the day before, repeating the same routine he had suddenly developed, his suit jacket draped over his arm. In the same nonchalant tone he usually kept, he had asked you if you were planning on going to the party. You had heard about it around the firm, but you had assumed it was for associates and partners only. Paralegals didn’t often get invited to parties, being the small fish in the pond of lawyers. Plus, you didn’t like conversing with lawyers longer than you needed to – unless they were Aaron, of course. 
And because you couldn’t help yourself, because you couldn’t say no to him, you smiled at him and told him you’d go. Then, you had kicked yourself mentally as soon as he had left, knowing everything you’d have to do to prepare yourself. A new outfit, a good mental peptalk to hype yourself up, and a shot before you enter the door for good luck.
You’re interrupted from shamelessly ogling your boss by a familiar booming laugh, your gaze immediately darting over to a group of men. They’re all fondling a glass of some sort of dark liquor, ranging from whiskey to scotch to bourbon. Your heart rate picks up as you glance at each of the faces, body stiffening at the sight of a familiar one.
Back when you were newly a paralegal, before you had been introduced to the rules behind the politics of being beneath lawyers in the corporate food chain, you had made a stupid mistake – you had dated one. 
Michael had been a good man, buying you gifts and taking you out on lavish dates you’d never be able to afford on your own, until you had had a chance to look back on him. Slowly, you had become more of a trophy to him rather than a loving girlfriend. He had carted you around to parties just like this, hand curled around your waist like he was afraid you’d drift away, slipping in comments about how you were just a paralegal, how you were fighting to become a lawyer, like you hadn’t been working your damn hardest to balance a new job, its workload and all of your classes as well.
Your break-up hadn’t been amicable, or even neutral. It had been a two-hour long argument, screaming until your throat hurt, each scalding insult out of his mouth piercing directly into your ego. After him, you had put your foot down about dating lawyers, especially young ones with a lot to prove. Since your break-up slash fight, you had managed to avoid him pretty well – until now. 
Immediately, you’re spinning around to aim your back towards him, only to come face-first with Aaron’s chest. Despite the heels you had purchased just for this event, he still towers over you, your chin having to tilt up to catch his eyes.
“Are you okay?” He asks, the low baritone washing over you like a wave. Despite the gentleness of the question, his face doesn’t change, oddly calm. You notice that his gaze is still sharp and focused, not as dazed as some of the other prosecutors surrounding the two of you. Glancing down, you also note that the single ice cube in his scotch had melted, and the drink was only halfway downed. He hadn’t been drinking, just socializing. That was good.
Shaking your head, you hold your drink closer to your chest. ‘Uhm, yeah. Fine.” You clear your throat before bringing your glass back up to your lips, downing what’s left of it before placing the empty glass on the table behind you. “Just don’t have much in common with people here.”
“You’re working to become a lawyer and you don’t have anything in common with other lawyers?” He questions, tone amused. You don’t miss the small tilt at the corner of his lips, or the crease at the corner of his eyes, the small little things that made up his amusement.
Huffing, you shake your head, crossing your arms over your chest. “Not men. All the men here probably see me as a glorified assistant. I wouldn’t be surprised if a few of them call me sugar and ask me to get them another drink.” You can’t help the slight scorn that seeps into your tone, leaning back against the table behind you and letting your eyes land on Michael again.
Aaron notices the change in your body language, his eyes following yours to look for what’s distracting you. “Who’s he?” His head tilts towards the group of lawyers before he’s glancing back at you, sipping at the scotch in his hand.
“What?” You question, too fast for your own liking, pulling your lips into your mouth in an attempt to keep you from rambling nervously. At the slightest quirk of his brow, you’re crumbling, deciding that he’d pick apart your lie more and more the more you tried to keep it up. “My ex-boyfriend. Dated him back when I was too stupid to know better.”
He lets out a huff of a laugh, sidling up beside you and letting his arm brush against yours. “Didn’t end well, I assume?” 
One glance up at him, you try to fight the smile that threatens to cross your lips. Rather than trying to avoid confrontation, he’s doing the exact opposite of what you’d do, his dark eyes zeroing in on the young lawyer that was still somehow oblivious to the death glare currently directed towards him. With Aaron standing beside you, you feel more confident, like he’d protect you if anything happened.
Before you have the chance to respond to the prosecutor’s question, Michael’s eyes finally catch yours. You note the furrow in his brow before his eyes light up, dread pooling in your stomach as you watch him excuse himself from his current conversation, immediately making his way towards you. If you weren’t too focused on shooting daggers at him, you’d have noticed the way Aaron slowly moved closer to you, until his entire arm was pressed up against yours while his free hand set his drink down.
Michael calls your name as he gets closer, like he’s unaware of the fact that your entire attention has been focused on him for the past couple of minutes. He has the flushed look to his cheeks that tell you he’s already drunk, his hair mussed on top of his head from running his hands through it. He looks happy to see you, which couldn’t be anything but a problem.
“What are you doing here? Become a lawyer yet?” It’s meant to be demeaning, although it's masked by amusement as his hand comes up to brush against your shoulder. You tense up at the touch, causing him to immediately pull his hand back. He recovers quickly when you don’t respond, his attention turning to Aaron. “Hi. I’m Michael, but many people around here call me Mike. Nice to meet you.”
Aaron glances down at his hand, however he doesn’t make any move to shake his hand. Instead, you’re surprised by the feeling of his fingertips skirting along the small of your back, moving until his hand completely curls around your hip. The touch is light at first, testing to see how you reacted, before it finally settles like a dead weight. “Aaron Hotchner. I’m a prosecutor.” He introduces himself, still eerily calm, even if you’re sure he can hear your racing heartbeat from where he stands.
From how close you are, from how close he’s slightly pulled you from his hold on your hip, you can smell his cologne. It’s manly, spicy, like bergamot. Usually, colognes were overwhelming, suffocating. Here, in his warm touch, it’s comforting. 
Michael’s eyes flicker down to the hand on your hip before back up to his face. He’s completely ignoring you, instead attempting to suck up to the man beside you for his political benefit, even if Aaron is obviously dismissing him. You want to laugh in his face, but you decide that taking the high ground is better.
“Oh, yeah. You worked on the Williamson case recently, right? It was all over the papers, your win. Man, I’d love to hear more about it.” He’s practically slobbering as he looks up at the prosecutor, eyes wide as saucers. It makes you nauseated to think that you were every romantically interested in the man.
Aaron must’ve noticed the way your eyes glazed over in boredom, fingertips pressing into your hip bone as he gives you a soft squeeze. “You said it yourself, it was all over the papers. Feel free to read up and send an email to my paralegal if you want any information.” He glances down at you for a moment before back up at the man in front of you. “Actually, please don’t contact my paralegal, or me.”
And then, with a soft ‘excuse me,’ he tightens his hold on your hip, urging you away from Michael. Unable to resist the urge, your lips pull up into a flattering smile as you glance at your ex-boyfriend for one last time, tongue dragging over your top teeth before you step away with the prosecutor. 
Once you’re out of earshot, you murmur softly. “What was that?” You muse, glancing up at him.
“You’re a smart girl, you can figure it out.” He responds nonchalantly, finally letting his hand fall and bringing it back to his side once you sidle up to the open bar. Tapping the counter, he orders you another drink, handing it over to you without a word about it. 
For a moment, you wonder if he’s flirting with you. You let the thought consume you for just a moment as you pull the drink closer, enjoying the cooling sensation of the condensation against your skin as you take a long drink, before you push it away. Aaron is distinguished, mature. He wouldn’t go for the young paralegal with nothing but silly little relationships under their belt.
After you’ve nursed the drink for a while, feeling small underneath the focused gaze of him, he stands up straight, hand finding your back again. It’s a habit of his now, you assume, to lead you around with a gentle touch. However, unlike how it had been with Michael, you didn’t feel like a trophy to him. It was a hold meant to steer you, not a hold meant to control you. You know that if you pushed him away, he’d back off without a second thought. “Come on. We’re gonna introduce you to some of the good lawyers. As a smart paralegal, not as the woman I happened to have my hand on.”
And so he did. For the next couple of hours, Aaron leads you around, introducing you as his favorite paralegal. The compliments that spew from him towards the people around you keeps your cheeks warm all night, constantly keeping your drink full to try and let yourself loosen up beneath his praise. Unfortunately, your attempt at calming yourself only gets you as drunk as the men around you, although you’re easily more controlled than they are.
By the time everyone starts leaving, you need a cab. Aaron lets you hold onto his bicep with a tight grip as he leads you outside, still the face of utmost patience and calm as he helps you down the steps in front of the building. You lean into him as the cool air brushes across your heated skin, taking a deep inhale.
“You’ve been so nice to me, all night.” You babble, letting yourself fully lean into him and enjoy the warmth of his body through his suit jacket. Almost like he senses it, he leans away from you just enough to pull it off, draping it over your shoulders before wrapping his arm around you again. “See? Like that. You’re just so nice.”
His chest rumbles against your shoulder as he leads you down the sidewalk, eyes flickering to your face before your surroundings. “I’m doing the bare minimum. If you believe this is the nicest thing someone can do for you, I’m worried.” He’s amused, you can tell by the lilt of his voice.
With a huff, you push at his chest, although his hold on you makes it so he doesn’t move far. “You know what I mean, Hotchner. You keep doing nice things for me. Like that thing with Michael. And introducing me to all of those lawyers. That could help my career, you know.” Suddenly, you gasp, stopping your feet so fast that he has to hold you up from falling on your face. “Are you trying to make me leave the firm?”
“I’m sorry?” He moves to stand in front of you, hands sliding down to grab your hips to steady you on your heels, which make you realize just how much your feet and ankles ache. 
Placing a hand on his chest, you push into him to keep yourself steady as you raise your foot, fingers digging into the heel of your shoe to pull it off. “You kept introducing me to a bunch of other prosecutors and lawyers and singing my praises. It sounds like you’re trying to pawn me off to some other attorney.” Your voice slowly trails off into a grumble as you peel off your shoe, immediately moving over to your other one.
Aaron lets out a soft sigh as he watches you remove your shoes, nose wrinkling slightly as your bare feet touch the sidewalk. Before you can speak again, he’s sliding your bag off of your shoulder, hoisting it up on his own. In one swift move, he’s crouching down, one arm sweeping beneath your legs and the other bracing your back as he lifts you up. A soft squeak leaves your lips as you’re suddenly lifted off the ground, one hand holding at the back of his neck for some type of stability. “And what do you think you’re doing?”
“I’m not letting you put your bare feet on the sidewalk. In this weather, you’ll catch a cold.” He responds easily, hands warm against the exposed skin of your lower thigh as he continues your walk. “Is it alright if I drive you home?”
Sighing, you pull your hand back towards your chest and lean your cheek against his shoulder, eyes fluttering as you fight the tiredness. “If it gets me to my bed faster, sure.” Suddenly, your eyelids pop open again, glancing up at his face. “You never answered my question. Are you trying to pawn me off to the highest bidder?”
Aaron’s quiet as he makes his way to his car, only speaking once he gets to the passenger side door. “Reach into the left pocket of my suit jacket and unlock the car, please.” He instructs, looking down at you.
“Answer my question.” You retort stubbornly, lips pulling down in a tight frown, bottom lip pushing out in a pout.
Rolling his eyes, he’s suddenly moving you in his arms, placing you down to sit on the hood of his car. One hand stays on your hip to keep you perched there while the other digs into the pocket of the jacket covering your shoulders, pulling out the keys himself as he stares directly into your eye. He unlocks the car as your pout deepens, opening the passenger side door before picking you up again.
He places you on the seat gently, laying your shoes and your bag at your feet so you didn’t lose them. Slender fingers grab your seatbelt before he’s leaning over you, cologne wafting over you again as he clicks the seatbelt into place. Rather than immediately pull back, he turns his head to look at you, face so close to yours that you can smell the remnants of his one scotch on his breath. 
“I am not trying to get you to go to a law firm, or another district attorney’s office. I would like to keep you around for as long as possible, if I can.” His hand reaches up to brush a loose strand of hair out of your face, fingertips brushing against your cheekbone and short-circuiting your drunk brain long enough for him to be able to pull his upper body out of the car.
The passenger side door shuts before you can say anything, leaving you in silence as you try to wrap your head around just exactly what’s happening. Unfortunately, you come up with nothing, especially since your last drink is just now settling in and everything is growing fuzzier by the moment.
As soon as Aaron’s in the car, he starts the engine, turning on the heat and reaching over to adjust your vents. “Let me know if you need me to roll down the window.” He murmurs, taking one last once-over of your face to make sure you were okay before turning his gaze back to his mirrors and windows.
You want to take this time to talk to him, to ask questions and enjoy the presence of him outside the office. Despite your drunkenness, you are still rational, but he doesn’t have to know that. You could say whatever you wanted, blame it on the drinks if it backfired. Unfortunately, you’re too tired to come up with anything to say, leaning your head against the car door and letting yourself drift off to sleep.
You’re awoken what feels like ages later by a warm nudge on your knee, eyelids peeling open to see Aaron’s large hand on it. Licking your lips to try and solve your drymouth, you turn your head to look at him, softening under his gentle eyes. “Hi. Are we at my home?”
He chuckles softly, thumb brushing against the side of your kneecap before he sits up, removing his hand and leaving you cold. “You fell asleep before I could ask your address, so I brought you back to my apartment. Is that okay?”
Sitting up, you run your fingers through your hair, praying that your make-up hasn’t smeared too much and you don’t look as dishelved as you feel. “As long as there’s somewhere for me to sleep and a glass of water.”
“Lucky for you, I have both.” With a flash of a smile your way, he turns off the car, immediately opening his door. In a moment, he’s at your door, opening it. Your head finds his shoulder again as he picks you up, abandoning your shoes in the floorboards as he shuts the passenger door. 
He has you inside his apartment before you can even register that you’ve moved, setting you back down on your feet and tugging down the hem of your dress to keep you covered. While he locks the door and sets down his keys in the tray next to it, you take the moment to look around, the hardwood cold against your feet. “Your apartment is very… boring.”
He snorts in amusement from behind you, gentle hands pushing your hair to the side so that he could pull his suit jacket off of your shoulders. Noticing your shiver once the cool air hits you, he tosses it to the side, running his warm hands over your exposed skin. The front of his thighs nudge you forward as his hands slide down to your hips, urging you towards the couch and directing you to sit down. “Good thing it’s not a hotel, then.”
“Zero stars.” You agree, curling into yourself as you settle down into the crook where the arm of the couch met the back of it. “It's freezing in here.” 
Grabbing a blanket off the back of the couch, he drapes it over your lap, both covering the expanse of thigh revealed by sitting down and warming you up. “I’ll grab you some clothes that’ll warm you up,” he responds briskly.. “Did you have any other complaints, princess?” He taunts, a smile pulling at his lips as he stands up straight, placing his hands on his hips..
You copy his grin, tilting your head to the side innocently. “The fact that you haven’t called me that before is quite a shame.”
He makes it apparent that he doesn’t take you seriously, his eyes rolling dramatically before he turns around, disappearing into one of the rooms off of the living room. He returns just a moment later, handing you a stack of clothes. “Shirt, sweatpants and some socks. The bathroom is just there.” He points to a shut door.
Nodding, you slowly stand up, making a show of pulling your dress down for yourself before grabbing the clothes out of his hand. You’re steadier on your feet now as you make your way towards the bathroom, giving him a brave and flirty smile as you shut the door behind you.
In the silence of the bathroom, you take the time to make yourself just a bit more presentable. Peeling off the dress you had bought just the day before and probably wouldn’t wear again, you quickly pull on the clothes that Aaron had given you, glancing at yourself in the mirror once they were on. Both items of clothing swallow you whole, the sweatpants hanging extremely low on your hips and the shirt draping down to your mid-thigh. To prevent accidentally flashing your boss, you use your hair tie to tie up the front of the sweatpants, making the waistline just tight enough to keep the sweatpants from falling.
After wetting your fingers and wiping away all of the make-up that had smeared, you finally step out of the bathroom, taking in the sight of Aaron. He’s changed into a t-shirt and sweatpants, just like you, although they obviously fit him a lot better. The shirt stretches across his shoulder blades as he drapes a blanket over the couch, the sight sending not-so-PG thoughts to your brain.
He turns around at the feeling of your eyes on him, that same amused look he had been sporting all night painting across his face as he notices the look in your eyes. Slowly, his eyes skirt along your entire appearance, softening ever-so-slightly at the corners at just how baggy everything looks. “Are you warmer?”
“Very much so.” You respond, lips parting in a large yawn. “Is this my abode for the night?” Your hand points at the small set-up he’s created on the couch, a couple of throw blankets and a decorative pillow.
Almost immediately, he shakes his head. “No, it’s mine.” Noticing your look, he quirks a brow. “You’re going to comment on how nice I am and then be surprised that I’m letting you take my bed for the night?”
Huffing, you move past him quickly, laying down on the couch before he could stop you. “Not happening, Hotchner. There is such a thing as too nice, and it’s what you’ve been tonight.” Pulling your legs closer to your chest, you lift up the blankets, sliding yourself beneath them. 
To your surprise, he leans down to tap your shoulder, adjusting the pillow behind your back once you’ve leaned forward. “Fine. But you can’t say I didn’t try.” After he’s sure you’re comfortable, he turns around, stepping away again. “Let me grab the stuff I left you in my room, then.”
While he’s gone, you settle deeper into the couch. It’s either surprisingly comfortable, or the alcohol in your system has really taken a toll on you. Or maybe it’s the fact that you’re surrounded in the smell of him, both by the clothes on your body and the blankets over your body.
Your eyes are fluttering closed as you hear his footsteps again, noting the clink of a glass on the side table and the soft rattle of pills. You can’t bring yourself to open them again, or open your mouth to thank him, but luckily he doesn’t seem to expect anything from you.
The only thing you’re able to register before you finally fall asleep is the soft brush of fingers on your forehead, pushing away a couple of stray hairs, before the soft click of a bedroom door.
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kiwriteswords ¡ 1 month ago
Note
So I have another request 🥸☝️
I had this idea about a 5+1 story and this is definitely your thing so I guess it’s the perfect moment to tell you about it and of course feel free to do it or not (I promise I won’t be sad if you don’t)
The thing was “5 times reader took Hotch on a date and one time he did” and in my head it was something like he hasn’t been on date for a long date or he always went on “simple” dates and doesn’t have anything special to tell or another amazing reason you’ll find because your brain is beautiful and reader decide to take him and of course the last one he’s the one who does
Not sure if it’s clear and maybe it’s not even a good idea 😂 but here it is and thank you for being amazing 💖
Everybody Knows You're All I've Got [Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader]
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Ki2k Masterlist||MainMasterlist (not updated, sorry!)|| Ao3||Word Count: 5.3k|| AN: Ahh, I love this! Thank YOU for being amazing and always so kind! I really appreciate all of the support and requests! I hope this is what you were looking for! <3
Tags/Warnings: female reader, 5 +1, best friends to lovers, Oblivious Hotch, Grumpy x Sunshine, Reader has an ex-boyfriend, reader hints at being bisexual? (easy to miss tbh), fake dating, first dates, slow burn, Jack Hotchner TW (for those who don't like him included 🤷‍♀️) Hotch is a rusty boyfriend, Reader takes care of hotch bc he sucks at caring for himself
Summary: Five times you took Hotch on a date and the one time he takes you on one.
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I. 
When you started at the BAU, it wasn't just the beginning of a new job but the start of an unlikely friendship with Aaron Hotchner. 
To many, Hotch was a mystery wrapped in a suit, always reserved and meticulously professional. But to you, he was a puzzle waiting to be understood, a person who just needed a bit of sunlight in the often shadowy world of the BAU.
You were everything Hotch wasn't outwardly: bubbly, openly kind, and radiating empathy like warmth from a fireplace. Where the weight of the job furrowed his brow, your smile seemed to light up the room, often bringing a much-needed lift to the team's spirits. 
It didn’t take long for you to notice the little things that could bring a momentary smile to Hotch’s often impassive face--a perfectly timed cup of coffee after a long night, a gentle tease to crack his professional veneer, or a supportive word after a tough case.
One chilly October afternoon, as the leaves painted the world in hues of fire and gold, you approached Hotch with an extra ticket in hand. There had been a buzz about the new play in town, something about it transforming the mundane into magic, and you thought it would be the perfect escape from the reality you both faced daily.
You had heard Hotch speak here and there about theater-related things. On the outside, looking in, he didn’t appear to be a theater geek at heart, but the subtle notes and references he made or picked up on had him found out by you fairly quickly. 
"Hotch, you're coming with me to the play tonight," you declared with a grin, waving the ticket like a magic wand.
He looked up from his paperwork, the corners of his eyes crinkling just so, a sign you had come to recognize as intrigue mixed with resistance. "You should take a friend...or perhaps a date," he suggested, his voice steady but his gaze flickering away momentarily.
Hotch had always been a fortress of solitude, his emotions guarded like the secrets of the cases you worked on together. But over time, you'd learned to read the subtle shifts in his expression as if they were confessions.
You leaned against his office door, your smile unwavering. 
"But I am taking a friend, and honestly, I can't think of anyone else I’d rather have as my date tonight. You deserve a night off, to be wined and dined and just...have fun." You shrugged. You knew this man, out of anyone in this building, likely hadn’t had a night out of fun since 1997. “How long has it been since you've done something just for the joy of it?”
Hotch paused, the word 'date' hanging between you like a challenge. His jaw set, a classic Hotchner move before surrendering to a situation outside his control. "I'm not sure I'm the best company for something like that," he countered softly, almost vulnerable.
"Which is exactly why you should come," you insisted. "You spend so much time taking care of everyone else here, Hotch. Tonight, let someone take care of you. Plus, I love your company, whether it’s here dealing with unsubs or outside where we can actually enjoy ourselves." You paused, “And you know me,” You smirked, “I’m really not going to let this go.” 
There was a long pause, a silent conversation passing through the air as he considered your words. Finally, with a small, almost imperceptible nod, he accepted. "Alright, I'll go."
The theater was an antique jewel in the heart of the city, its walls lined with velvety red curtains and golden lights that cast a warm glow over the buzzing audience. As the curtain rose, the stage transformed into a magical realm, pulling you both away from the grim realities of your daily work.
The play was a vibrant affair, with actors breathing life into their roles with a passion that made you forget the world outside. Throughout the evening, you watched Hotch, too, seeing him genuinely engaged, a softness in his eyes that you seldom saw at work. 
During intermission, over glasses of wine, you shared light, easy conversation that danced around personal edges, revealing layers of each other previously tucked away behind professional facades.
"Thank you for bringing me," Hotch said as you walked out under the canopy of stars. His voice was low, sincere. "It’s been...more enjoyable than I anticipated."
"You're welcome!" you beamed, feeling a swell of happiness at his admission. "See? The world outside the BAU isn’t so bad, is it?"
He allowed himself a small chuckle, the sound mingling with the crisp night air. "No, it isn’t. Especially not with the right company."
The evening ended with a promise of similar outings, an unspoken agreement that both of you would take turns pulling each other away from the shadows of your job into the light of life outside it. It was simple, an easy friendship blossoming quietly into something that neither of you had expected but both secretly hoped would continue to grow.
II. 
You burst into Hotch's office with a flair that would rival any stage performance, immediately drawing a rare smile from him despite the obvious panic etched across your face. He set aside his paperwork, an unspoken signal that he was all ears, and patiently waited for you to gather your thoughts.
Despite the clear panic struck on your face…it was amusing to Hotch. Cute even. Your typical calm, cool, and collected personality seemingly faded now. Your flustered state was something that Hotch found endearingly human, a contrast to your usual composed demeanor. 
"Hotch, I have a...a situation," you gasped, struggling for breath as you stopped in front of his desk. The rare sight of your disarray pulled a smile from him, a softening around his eyes that encouraged you to continue.
Catching your breath, you finally blurted out, "My ex-fiancĂŠ is coming to town, and he's...he's engaged now!" You paced a small circle before facing Hotch again, your hands animatedly moving as you spoke. "And, of course, he wants to meet for drinks to introduce me to his fiancĂŠe."
Hotch's eyebrows raised slightly, a silent prompt for you to continue.
You exhaled sharply, the words tumbling out. Complete and utter word vomit. Word salad. Word soup…all over Aaron Hotchner’s perfectly perfected office. "I might have, sort of, told him I was seeing someone too--just to sound less...pathetic." You met Hotch's gaze, a mix of embarrassment and mischief in your eyes. "And I said it was you. It had to be you."
"Me?" Hotch's voice was calm, but his surprise was evident.
You nodded vigorously. "Yeah, I mean, it couldn’t be Derek; he’s all action-hero, way too macho. And Spencer? He’d inadvertently make me look dumb with all his factoids. And Rossi...well," you chuckled nervously, "he’s great, but he could practically be my dad!"
You paused, a playful glint appearing in your eyes. "I even thought about taking Emily, you know, referring back to my experimental college days," you joked, watching Hotch’s reaction carefully.
There was a moment of stillness as Hotch processed your train of thought. Finally, he leaned back in his chair, the corners of his mouth twitching into an almost imperceptible smile. "So, I'm the safest choice for a fake boyfriend, is that it?"
"Exactly!" you exclaimed, relieved he wasn't upset. "You’re respectable, you’re responsible, and let’s be honest, you can scare him a little if you do that...stern FBI look.” You paused, trying to convey the other reason behind this…this choice. Hotch had become someone you deeply cared for. It was evident to everyone. “And not just safe," you corrected, your tone earnest. "You're...you make me feel secure. You're the one person here who always has my back."
Hotch considered this for a moment; then his expression softened--a new understanding dawning between you. "When is this drink supposed to happen?"
"Tomorrow night," you replied, your voice a mixture of hope and anxiety. The relief in your voice mirrored the relief in your stance.
Hotch nodded slowly, then stood up from his desk, a decisive look replacing his initial surprise. "Alright, then. It seems I’m your...boyfriend for the evening. We might as well make sure your ex realizes what he’s missed out on."
Your relief was palpable, and a genuine smile spread across your face. "Thank you, Hotch. Really, I...this means a lot to me."
“I’ll be there--not just as your fake boyfriend, but as your friend."
Your heart fluttered unexpectedly at his words, warmth spreading through you at the thought of him standing by your side. "Thank you, really, Hotch. Really…honestly, this means everything to me."
The rest of the day, you found yourself catching Hotch's eye a few times, each glance exchanged, building a silent, mutual understanding. It was an odd, unexpected partnership, but as the hours passed, a curious anticipation grew within both of you about the role you were about to play.
The following evening at the bar was like stepping into another world. The dim lighting cast a warm glow that softened the sharp edges of Hotch's usually stark features. He stood there, not as the BAU chief, but as someone altogether more approachable, dressed in a smart casual jacket that hinted at the man beneath the badge.
"You look...not like Agent Hotchner," you commented with a teasing tone as you approached.
"And you look like someone who definitely isn’t nursing a broken heart," Hotch replied, offering his arm in a gentlemanly gesture that you didn’t expect but appreciated.
The night unfolded with an ease that surprised you both. Hotch played the part perfectly, charming yet subtly protective, casting doubtful glances from your ex that you couldn't help but feel satisfied to provoke. With every laugh and shared glance, the line between pretense and reality blurred.
As you left the bar, Hotch’s hand brushed against yours, a touch that lingered longer than necessary. "You know," he said quietly, stopping to face you under the soft glow of the streetlamp, "you don’t need to pretend to be anything you're not--not with me."
Your heart skipped a beat at the intensity of his gaze. "Maybe next time, we won’t have to pretend," you suggested, the words hanging between you like a promise waiting to be kept.
Hotch studied you for a moment, his usual reserve giving way to a tender sincerity. "I’d like that," he admitted, and in his eyes, you saw not just the stoic chief but a man who had begun to see you in a new light, just as you were seeing him.
As you walked away together, the city around you faded into the background, leaving only the possibilities of what might come next--a future neither of you had anticipated, but both silently hoped to explore.
III. 
On a brisk morning, as the case stretched on and lunchtime approached, you could feel the gnawing emptiness in your stomach. Seated beside Hotch in the car, an hour away from the rest of the team, you were certain he must be just as hungry--even if he never complained. From what you'd observed, Hotch often neglected his own needs, always focused on the job or caring for his team.
He was the kind of man who seemed to subsist on sheer willpower--and far too much coffee, which, as you often joked.
Coffee shouldn’t count as a meal. 
Dessert? Maybe. With extra whipped topping and mocha drizzle. Lunch? Never. 
You wished somedays you’d just pack him a sandwich. It was hard to picture the man devouring a peanut butter and jelly, but a grown man’s got to eat! And from the looks of it, he rarely prioritizes that. The thought made you smile, a brief respite from the growling of your stomach.
The world outside painted a stark contrast to the warmth inside the car. Bare trees stood sentinel along the frost-lined road, their branches swaying in the cold wind that whispered promises of an impending winter. The car's heater hummed softly, a counterpoint to the rhythm of the road beneath the tires.
Glancing over at him as he drove, you noticed his focus was unwavering, his hands steady on the wheel. The rumbling of your stomach broke the silence, making it impossible to ignore any longer. Without a word, you leaned over the console and started typing into the GPS.
Hotch shot you a curious look. One eyebrow raised before darting back toward the open road. "What are you doing?"
"We need food, Hotch. I’m starving, and I know you haven’t eaten either," you said, inputting the address of a nearby diner you’d quickly looked up. The promise of a simple but comforting meal seemed like the perfect break from the stresses of the case.
He briefly glanced at the screen before returning his eyes to the road. "We should really get back to the precinct, join the team," he argued, his voice steady but lacking conviction. 
"Hotch, we’re no good to them if we’re hungry and irritable," you countered, meeting his gaze with a playful yet firm look. "And I’m about to get very irritable if I don’t eat something soon."
"I don’t get irritable," Hotch said, a faint smile playing on his lips despite his attempt to seem annoyed.
"You will be if you don’t eat," you teased. "Now, follow the GPS. I’m ordering us cheeseburgers and fries. And if you’re good," you added with a cheeky grin, "I might even treat you to a milkshake."
That seemed to amuse him, a spark of warmth lighting up his usually reserved eyes. With a resigned chuckle, Hotch finally nodded and turned the car in the direction of the diner.
As you both walked into the diner, the shift in atmosphere was palpable. The cozy warmth, the smell of coffee and fried food, offered a much-needed respite. 
You slid into a booth, the red vinyl squeaking under you, and Hotch took the seat across, his body language relaxing as he perused the menu you handed him. The corner of his mouth twitched upward in amusement at your noticeable relief.
"See, isn’t this better than a cold sandwich in the precinct?" you asked as you handed him a menu, your tone light and teasing.
"It is," he admitted, his gaze lingering on yours a moment longer than necessary. "Thanks for taking care of me."
The conversation flowed easily as you waited for your food, touching on light topics that didn’t involve work. It was a side of Hotch you rarely saw--relaxed, even a bit playful, especially when you joked about how he deserved a day off now and then.
When the food arrived, Hotch seemed genuinely pleased with the hearty meal, and you couldn’t help but feel a sense of satisfaction in seeing him so. As you both ate, the playful banter continued, and you teased him about his choice of milkshake flavor--classic vanilla, to match his no-nonsense personality.
"You know, for someone who claims to be all business, you sure enjoy vanilla quite a bit," you quipped, taking a sip of your own, more adventurous, chocolate shake.
Hotch looked up, his eyes crinkling with amusement. "Maybe I just appreciate the simpler things," he retorted, his voice low and teasing in a way that sent a thrill through you. “And the company isn’t bad.” 
You caught the twinkle in his eye, and it sparked something bold within you. "Well, if it's the simple things you appreciate," you started, a playful edge to your voice, "I might just have to take you on more 'simple' dates like this. I mean, if the company isn't bad..."
Hotch's smile broadened a rare and full grin that reached his eyes, softening the usually stern lines of his face. "I wouldn't object to that," he admitted, his tone suggesting he was more pleased by the idea than he let on. "It seems I've been missing out on quite a few simple pleasures."
The light banter, mixed with the warm glow of the diner and the comfort of the meal, wove a moment of connection that felt both exhilarating and natural. As you both laughed, the air between you filled with a sense of possibility, a hint that this could be the beginning of exploring not just crime scenes together but something much deeper and personally rewarding.
The meal ended too soon, but the light-hearted mood lingered as you both headed back to the car. As Hotch drove back to the precinct, the playful ease between you felt like a silent acknowledgment of something deeper, something neither of you had expected to find in the midst of a tough case.
The ride back was quiet but comfortable, filled with shared glances and an unspoken agreement that this, whatever it was that was blooming between you, was something worth exploring, no matter how cautiously. The seeds planted during that fake date had started to sprout, and as the landscape rolled by outside the car windows, so too did the possibilities of what might come next.
IV. 
The evolution of your relationship with Hotch had been as subtle as the change of seasons, marked not by grand gestures but by shared glances and small touches that lingered a bit longer than necessary. These were the silent confirmations of a deepening bond, one that had maturely navigated the boundaries of professionalism and his life as a dedicated father.
Recognizing the significance of his role as a father and wanting to affirm your respect for this vital part of his life, you planned an outing that would comfortably include his son, Jack. The idea was simple yet thoughtful--a paint day at a local studio, a space vibrant with color and creativity, perfect for Jack, whose love for painting Hotch had mentioned in passing.
When you shared the plan with Hotch, his response was unexpectedly moving. His eyes, usually guarded and holding the weight of his responsibilities, softened remarkably. "This is really thoughtful of you," he said, his voice tinged with a sincerity that resonated deeply within you. "Jack will love this, and honestly, it means a lot to me too."
As you entered the studio, the warmth inside was a stark contrast to the chill outside. The walls were adorned with splashes of color and shelves lined with ceramics and canvases added to the eclectic charm. Jack's excitement was infectious; his energy seemed to fill the room as he dashed about, choosing his materials with serious cconsideration
You picked a mug to paint, selecting colors with a playful eye, while Hotch chose a plate, his attempts at painting it more comical than artistic.
"You might stick to profiling, Hotchner," you teased gently, watching him struggle with a paintbrush.
Hotch looked up, amusement flickering across his face. "I think you might be right," he conceded, and even Jack chimed in with a giggle, enjoying the sight of his dad out of his usual element.
Jack, inspired by the day's activities, decided to paint a canvas depicting the three of you playing soccer--a scene from his imagination that warmed your heart. It was touching to see how he included you in his artwork, a sign that he was accepting you into their little world.
Throughout the day, the chemistry between you and Hotch was more apparent than ever. Every shared smile, every light touch while passing paint jars, seemed to underline the deepening connection. It was clear that something more was there, something neither of you had fully acknowledged yet. There was a comfort and ease between you, a natural fit that felt like it could seamlessly extend beyond these shared moments into something lasting.
As the day wound down, you looked at your finished mug, Hotch’s humorously bad plate, and Jack’s heartfelt canvas. There was a profound sense of accomplishment and happiness. Jack’s energy never waned, and his chatter about where he would hang his painting in his room filled the space with joy.
Driving back, the car was filled with a comfortable silence before Hotch finally spoke, his voice laden with emotion. "Today was perfect," he said sincerely. "Thank you for setting this up. It's...it's not often we get to do something so normal, so fun."
"It was my pleasure, really," you responded, your voice soft, conveying the genuine joy you felt. "I loved every minute of it, Hotch. Seeing you and Jack like this, it’s...it's wonderful."
Hotch glanced over, his expression thoughtful, the setting sun casting shadows that played across his features. "It's new for me," he confessed, "letting someone into our world this way. But it feels right...with you."
Your heart fluttered at his words, the weight of them carrying a promise of something deeper, something that was slowly taking shape between you. "I'm glad," you murmured, reaching over to squeeze his hand briefly, an affirmation of the bond forming among the three of you.
The drive back was quiet but filled with an unspoken acknowledgment of the budding relationship that was no longer just a possibility but a burgeoning reality. As you watched the scenery blur by, you realized that this day hadn’t just been about painting or playing--it was a canvas for what was to come, a beautifully unfolding story that you were all painting together.
V. 
Navigating the intricacies of your evolving relationship with Hotch had been like reading a novel written in a familiar yet indecipherable script. 
You weren't someone who needed everything spelled out,who required every emotion or intention to be neatly labeled like items in a catalog.
However, as your interactions deepened--marked by those unmistakably boyfriend-like gestures, from the way he'd casually touch your back guiding you through a doorway, to how he'd drop a coffee on your desk exactly the way you liked it--questions began to surface in your mind.
What exactly were you to each other?
Sure, he acted like your boyfriend, did things that a boyfriend would do. 
There were those long drives from crime scenes where you'd debrief not just on the case but about life, hopes, fears. 
He was there, always somehow there, in ways that mattered. But without the explicit affirmation, a tiny part of you lingered in doubt. It wasn't that you thought he might be seeing other people--Hotch barely had time to eat properly, let alone date multiple people. But clarity was something you craved, even as you thrived in the gray areas of life.
Deciding to address these swirling thoughts directly, you leveraged your day off--an all-too-rare occurrence that felt like the universe’s nod to take action. With your usual blend of brightness and empathy, you picked up your phone and dialed Hotch’s number. 
The call was quick; the invitation straightforward but imbued with all the significance of stepping into new, uncharted territory.
"Hi, Hotch, it’s me," you began, your voice carrying a cheerful lilt that belied the butterflies doing somersaults in your stomach. "I was thinking, since we both actually have a free evening, maybe we could go out for dinner? I’ve made reservations at that new place we’ve both been curious about. If you’re up for it?"
There was a brief pause, and for a second, you wondered if you’d stepped over an unseen line. But then his response came, warm and unmistakably pleased. "That sounds great, I’d love to. What time should I pick you up?"
The simplicity of his acceptance, the ease with which he stepped into the space you’d opened, lifted a weight off your shoulders you hadn’t fully realized you'd been carrying. 
As you hung up, a smile played on your lips, mirrored by a warmth that spread through your chest. This dinner would be different; it wasn't just about enjoying good food or making casual conversation. It was about defining what was between you, about giving shape to the connection that had grown, subtly but significantly, over the countless shared moments.
That evening, as you prepared for the date, every choice--from the dress you wore to the perfume you dabbed behind your ears--felt imbued with intention. Meeting him outside your place, you noticed the effort he’d put into his appearance as well. Gone was the standard FBI suit, replaced by something softer, yet equally compelling. His smile when he saw you was enough to set your heart racing.
From the moment he opened the car door for you, everything felt right--effortlessly falling into a pattern that seemed to have existed for years, not just the recent weeks of growing closeness. The conversation flowed freely as you drove to the restaurant, filled with the usual banter and warmth that had become a hallmark of your interactions.
At the restaurant, your dynamic was unmistakably couple-like, drawing knowing smiles from the servers as you laughed and shared food across the table. It was remarkably natural, the ease between you, as if all your prior interactions had been rehearsals for this very moment.
Midway through the meal, buoyed by the comfort that had defined the evening, you decided to address the ambiguity that had lightly clouded your relationship. "Hotch, I’ve been wondering," you started, your voice soft but direct, "what exactly is this for us? I mean, we’ve been spending so much time together, and it feels like…well, like we’re a couple. But we’ve never really talked about it."
Hotch paused, a forkful of dinner halfway to his mouth, and his expression shifted to one of mild embarrassment. Setting his utensil down, he met your gaze; his cheeks tinged with a rare flush. 
"I...I’m sorry; I suppose I should have brought it up," he admitted, his voice tinged with a hint of chagrin. "I’m not very experienced with how this is supposed to go. Things have been going so well, I didn’t think to...well, make it official or ask properly. You know, the whole…dating protocol."
You reached across the table, covering his hand with yours, squeezing it reassuringly. "Hotch, I don’t need any grand gestures or formal declarations," you said warmly. "But I think some clarity would be helpful, just…so we’re on the same page. Clarity is comforting, especially with something as important as this."
Hotch smiled a genuine, relieved smile. "Then let’s be clear: I’d like nothing more than to be considered your boyfriend if you feel the same way.” He paused, his eyes locking with yours, "How about you let me take you on a real first date after tonight? And I promise, it won’t be like the casual outings we’ve had before."
"You mean all those times we grabbed a coffee or had those long drives weren’t dates?" you teased,your voice light, trying to ease the intensity of the moment.
"They were...unofficial dates. Practice, if you will," Hotch replied with a laugh. "But from now on, I promise, nothing but the real thing."
The promise of a 'proper' date, laden with Hotch’s earnest intentions, filled you with a delightful anticipation. It wasn’t just the thrill of formalizing your relationship but the realization that you were both navigating this new terrain together, equally invested and open.
+1
As the evening approached, the flutter of anticipation was palpable. You had been on dates before, but the buildup to this particular outing with Hotch had an entirely different tenor. 
His promise of a "real first date" had left you curious and, admittedly, a bit exhilarated. Despite his claim of being rusty, the effort he put into planning the evening suggested otherwise.
Hotch arrived right on time, looking every bit the part of a gentleman set to impress. His usual dark, work-appropriate suits were replaced by a tailored charcoal blazer that complemented his stern features, softened tonight by the hint of a smile as he greeted you. 
As Hotch presented you with the bouquet of lilies and wildflowers, their scent subtly mingling with the evening air, it was the perfect prelude to an evening that promised to be anything but ordinary. 
His eyes held a gleam of anticipation as he asked, "Ready for an adventure?" His voice was light, but beneath it, you could detect a current of genuine excitement--a hint that tonight was about more than just dinner.
The drive led you away from the familiar lights of the city to a more secluded bistro overlooking the water, known for its privacy and exquisite views. The table was set in a quiet corner of the terrace, draped in soft white linen and lit by a single, flickering candle that cast a warm glow over the setting. The backdrop of the slowly setting sun, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink, made the scene almost too picturesque to be real.
Throughout dinner, Hotch was both attentive and charming, effortlessly leading the conversation through laughter and deeper, more introspective topics. 
"I’ve been out of the game for a long time," he admitted as you both looked over the bay, "but I wanted tonight to be special. I wanted to show you how much I appreciate everything you do, not just for me, but for Jack as well." His words warmed you more than the evening air. "You see me in ways I didn't realize were visible," he continued, his gaze holding yours. "The way you care for those around you, especially Jack and I, it’s more than just empathy--it's genuine love."
Your hands touched as you both reached for your wine glasses, a spark of connection in the simple gesture. “I see the same in you, Hotch. The way you balance everything, yet still manage to make us feel...important,” you replied, your voice soft but clear over the gentle lapping of the water below.
Dinner unfolded beautifully, each course a delight not just to the palate but as a discovery of shared tastes and preferences. With each dish, you learned something new about each other--preferences hidden beneath daily routines, stories from the past that had shaped your tastes.
As you shared a dessert, Hotch pointed at your plate with his fork. "Are you sure you’re ready to share that? It looks too good to split fifty-fifty."
You eyed the last piece of chocolate mousse, then back at him with a playful challenge in your eyes. "Maybe I’ll reconsider based on your performance review of this date."
Hotch leaned in, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, "In that case, I’d better ensure the evening ends on a high note." His light-hearted tone matched the sparkle in his gaze, making the simple act of sharing dessert feel like flirtatious banter.
As you walked along the port after dinner, the moon casting shimmering trails across the water, Hotch nudged you gently with his elbow. "So, do I get bonus points for choosing a place with a view?"
"Maybe just a few," you conceded, nudging him back. "But only because you seem to know the way to my heart--through scenic views and excellent food."
The laughter that followed was easy and genuine, drifting into the night air and mixing with the rhythmic sounds of the waves. "You know, I think I’m getting the hang of this dating thing again," Hotch said, a note of mock pride in his voice.
"Just keep up with me, Hotch. I have high standards for second dates, remember?" you teased, your smile reflecting the joy of the evening.
Hotch's laugh echoed softly in the quiet night. "Is that a challenge?" he asked, a playful glint in his eyes.
"It might just be," you replied, matching his tone. "I’m curious to see what you’ll come up with next.
The night ended with a promise of more to come, not just another date, but more moments like these--shared, special, and sincere.
As Hotch drove you home, you were indeed head over heels, not just for the man who had meticulously planned this perfect first date, but for the one who had shown you his heart, beautifully open and invitingly warm. It was clear that whatever lay ahead, it would be a journey worth taking, together.
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sunshineandspencer ¡ 10 months ago
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Jolene
A/N: I’ve managed to get sick and the thing that roused me from my deathbed was hearing Jolene and going ‘yes, this applies to a Hotch fic, my people need me’ if it doesn’t make sense, blame the headache.
Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Girlfriend!Reader.
Summary: She desperately tries not to think that way about his ex-wife, but seeing them interact hurts way more than she thought it would.
Word Count: 1k
Warnings: established relationship, cutesy nicknames, Haley is alive, barely-negative self-thoughts, angst but a happy ending
be added to the taglist!!
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“I can easily understand how you could easily take my man, but he’s the only one for me, Jolene.”
Some part of her knew this wasn’t going to be easy, but she’d powered through it. Aaron had kissed her softly in the kitchen and told her that it would all be alright, slowly moving her to the stairs so that she could get ready.
Smacking her ass and laughing as she yelped, disappearing into their bedroom to get dressed.
They’d been together nearly three years now, only about a month until their third anniversary, and he promised something big - but that’s not important right now.
Jack has a big soccer game this afternoon, his team - little league but still important, as both men swear to her - had made it to whatever the ‘finals’ were. Aaron coaches his team, and as much as she tries to keep up, sports have never been her thing.
Despite this, she attends every single game and cheers no matter what’s happening. Plus, she gets the added bonus of seeing her boyfriend in a loose shirt and shorts, a rare and delicious sight. All the other moms have learnt that Aaron is taken, considering he comes over to kiss her whenever he can.
Honestly, Aaron is perfect. 
Even with his job, she doesn’t mind at all. She’s a photographer, and so she does all her editing work from home, and even when she does need to travel, she does it around his work and Jack’s school times. Occasionally bringing them with her, or just Jack when Aaron is away.
She absolutely loves their little family, and every single moment they spent together, and knew early on that days like this couldn’t be avoided forever.
Of course, she knows that Aaron loves her, he tells her more than enough and he still thinks he’s lacking in that department. But he loves her so desperately that he easily makes her feel seventeen all over again.
So Aaron is not the problem, but she is.
Haley, his ex-wife. The woman divorced Aaron, and moved on a lot quicker than he had, but that’s not the problem, people move at different speeds and she fell out of the marriage a lot sooner than Aaron did. The issue that she has is seeing them together with Jack.
They’re so.. picture perfect. Clearly a family. To the point where it hurts.
Haley is utterly gorgeous, and ageing has only done her wonders. Of course, she knows that she’s also aged pretty well, but not as well as her. 
The woman exists as if the phrase ‘fine wine’ was made just to describe her, and the quiet sting of jealousy hits deep whenever she and Aaron interact. It isn’t very often, thank God, but it still sucks.
The way she still talks to him so casually, as if they were friends who didn’t have an eight year marriage between them, it sets her on edge. It feels like she believes if she wanted she could easily stroll back into Aaron’s life. And why wouldn’t she?
She’s stunning, she’s Jack’s mother, there’s nothing stopping her from taking Aaron all over again.
Except the fact Aaron has reassured her that Haley is nothing to him anymore except the woman who gave him the greatest gift in his life bar his “wonderful girlfriend”, and she believes him. God- it feels so wrong to feel jealous and small when he’s told her that Haley is nothing. It feels like she’s doubting him, and it’s not that she’s trying to, she can’t help it.
How could she, when his ex-wife looks like that?
“Where’ve you gone sweetheart?”
Blinking softly, she looked up from where Jack was excitedly talking to his mom about all the goals he scored - uncaring that half were own-goals.
Aaron had come over to sit next to her, and hesitated from placing his usual peck to her lips when he found her so lost in her own thoughts. Moving to sit next to her and immediately place a hand on her thigh, squeezing softly and pressing his thumb into her flesh by the hem of her dress.
“Nowhere, no I’m- I’m still here.” He gives her a look and she sighs, leaning in to kiss him and grumble unhappily against his lips. “Everyday you make it harder and harder to like profilers.”
Humming, he kissed her a little firmer than usual and she pulled back, looking at him confused. Not that she was complaining, but he usually had a reason.
“She may be his mother, but Jack loves you just as much.”
Her heart seized, hating that he was able to figure her out so easily, but not surprised anymore. Reaching to squeeze his hand where it still rested on her thigh and turning to look at him fully.
“Aaron, I--”
“I mean it dove, we love you. She’s had her time in my life, and that’s over, you are the only one I want for any foreseeable future.”
A bright smile drew up on her face, the one he so loves drawing out because it means that she’s getting over whatever bothered her. 
He’s not stupid, he knows how much that bothered her at the start, and it had calmed down slightly over the years, and she believes him completely. Convincing her brain to believe him, however, had been the most surprising thing to try and overcome. For her, however, he’d reassure her everyday for as long as it takes.
With her hands smoothing up his arms to thread into the hair at the nape of his neck, that little bashful smile overcame her face as she got closer. Pressing a quick kiss to his lips.
“Careful there Hotchner, or someone might think you’re proposing to me.”
He huffed out a small laugh and wrapped his arm around her waist and tugged her even closer, kissing her deeply. Not caring that there were other moms watching and awing, or Jack making fake throwing-up noises, even though he really doesn’t mind.
Only pulling back to brush his nose against hers, smiling down at her and watching the way she couldn’t decide which eye of his to focus on.
“Just wait sweet girl, I’m not having you ruin my surprise.”
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boldlyvoid ¡ 1 year ago
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Little White Lies
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18+ Aaron Hotchner x Fem Reader
Summary: Readers sister is having an Engagement/Christmas party this year and her cousin will be there. With her new fiance. Who is reader's ex. The only logical thing to do is to show up with her own new boyfriend... who isn't really her boyfriend. He's her boss.
Warnings: fake dating, mutual pining, idiots in love, flirting, teasing, there's only one bed, love confessions, getting together, oral sex (fem receiving), condom use, p in v smut, meeting readers family
Word Count: 5.3k
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She sits in the corner of the jet, facing Aaron in the two-person seat near the entrance to the cockpit. She’s sat there with him on almost every trip for the past 3 years. He’s good company, not too talkative, he gets her drinks and he gives her little smiles every so often. It’s relaxing to sit with him… however, tonight, she’s not in a good mood and he can tell. 
He looks at her all concerned and then looks around at the others to assure they’re all busy. “Are you alright?” He whispers. Keeping her business between them. 
She shrugs, “My sister’s been texting me. Her engagement party is coming up and I promised I’d go but I just found out that my cousin and her fiancé are going to be there…” 
“Do you not like her?” 
She shakes her head, “it’s complicated.” 
“I’m all ears?” He reminds her. 
She sighs, “Her fiancé is my ex-boyfriend. She slept with him while we were still together… I was in the academy and he was apparently lonely all by himself and didn’t have the time to travel here to see me so he fell into her bed instead.” 
“I’m so sorry,” Hotch says, concern all over his face and disbelief in his voice. “That’s awful, why would your sister invite her?” 
“Because my parents are paying for it and all the family gets to go, no matter what,” she scoffs. “It’s to show off, nothing more.” 
“You know…” he tilts his head to the side and his brows go up as he thinks, a pondering look on his face that’s quite amusing. “You could bring someone with you, someone to prove to him that you’ve moved on and you’re in a much better place now?” He suggests. 
“Yeah, like who? Morgan?” She teases, laughing slightly. 
“Or me?” He offers. His brows were still raised but the softest, most sincere look on his face. She’s never seen him look so… so affectionate. So careful. Unless he’s with Jack. This is his ‘I love you like family I’ll do whatever you need me to’ look. 
“Yeah,” she gives in. “That would be nice… it’s December 22nd. Would you be able to take time away from Jack that close to Christmas?” 
“Where is it?” 
“they’re having it in New York, that’s where my sister lives now,” she explains. “I’m taking the train up the night before, I have a hotel room booked but I could stay with my sister and you could have the room for the night?” 
“Could we switch to a double queen?” He suggests. 
She shrugs, “I can call and find out?” 
“Okay,” he nods. “Jack’s with Haley this Christmas, I see him boxing day till New Year's Day and then he goes back to her.” 
“We’ll have to bring him home something,” she suggests. “We can even go a bit early or stay later if you want to go shopping a bit in the city?” 
“He’s always said he wants M&M’s with his face on them,” he teases. “It’ll be fun.” 
“I’ll tell my sister to expect another person,” she says as she pulls her phone out. “Do I tell her you’re my boyfriend?” 
He nods, “Whatever you want to call me, I’ll be it for the weekend.” 
—
She tells him to pack a suit and obviously an overcoat to stay warm in the cold New York air. The party they’re going to is going to be on the top floor of this really expensive restaurant, they’ll have rooftop access and there’s free drinks. It’ll be the fanciest non-FBI party he’s ever been invited to. 
The team doesn’t know they’re going together, everyone has the next two weeks off unless there’s something serious like terrorism or multiple bodies dropping, or a kid going missing. But it’s not often their Christmas breaks get disrupted. So they pack up on the 20th, everyone takes the elevators down to the garage together and they say goodbye before their vacations. 
He meets her at the train station the next day at 11am, their train leaves at 11:20, and he comes with snacks and coffee. Always in dad mode, he knows what it’s like to go on a long trip with someone who’s hungry, it’s not always fun. They have a little booth together, the trains are mostly empty this close to Christmas. Everyone’s either where they want to be already or taking last-minute flights. So it’s quiet, they get to look out the window together and she shares an earbud with him, with her phone on shuffle, exposing him to a whole bunch of new music. 
And she has a nap, head on his shoulder and wrapped around his arm. It’s not the first time this has happened, he’s let her sleep on him on the Jet and they’ve had to share beds in hotels before. He’s hugged her after rough cases and when she’s just sad… she’s his family. Everyone on the team is. He just feels it a little stronger for her. 
He rests his cheek on her head, looking out the window with a smile on his face. Excited to pretend to be her boyfriend for the next 2 days. To have her hang off his arm, to dance with her… maybe even steal a kiss or two to really sell it. And he can’t wait to see her dress, or how she does her hair or if she’s going to wear makeup? She doesn’t get all dolled up for work, but he’s seen her dress up for the bar and events for the bureau and he thinks she is so, so beautiful. Always, but especially when she puts on lipstick and her good perfume. 
He’s been harbouring this little crush on her for so long that he’s not really sure how much longer it can stay a secret. 
They arrive in New York at 6pm. The hotel they’re staying at has a restaurant and Y/N, being the genius she is, booked a reservation for 6:30. They have enough time to put their bags in their room and head back downstairs, but their room is wrong. 
“They told me they could switch to two queens?” She complains as she sees just one bed. A King bed. 
“Did you specifically say two queens or a double queen?” He teases. “Cause a double queen might make them think you want a bigger bed…” 
She groans, holding her hands over her face, “Oh god, I fucked up.” 
He gently rubs his hand on her back, “Hey, it’s okay. I don’t mind sharing for 2 nights, there’s lots of room in there. Plus… it might be good for playing pretend.” 
She smirks, “my boyfriend would sleep in the same bed as me.” 
“and enjoy it,” he pulls her in for a hug and rests his chin on her head while she snuggles into his chest where she feels safest. 
—
After dinner, they walk around the city a bit. She still has to get her sister something and she has a registry at some fancy store nearby. They get hot chocolates and stand close together as they walk, hands brushing each other but not holding, no matter how much she wants to hold his hand. So she rubs her knuckles against his and waits for him to be the one to finally give in. 
It takes a while, they walk down the block and explore two stores but he finally takes her hand in his, fingers interlocked, as they cross the street. And he doesn’t let go once they’re safely back on the sidewalk. He simply guides her towards the store her sister is registered at and they head inside, closer than ever before. 
“Hi, can I help you with anything?” One of the workers asks with a genuine smile on her face. 
“my sister has a registry here,” Y/N explains. “It should be under Lindsay and Connor Higgins?” 
She’s taken to the register and handed a list, everything they want is on it. Some crossed out as they’ve already been purchased, but a decent amount of things are still there. A lot of it is pointless, fancy shit but she likes to think she knows her sister well. She knows what would actually be used by her and what would just be a decoration to prove she had good taste. 
Her sister works really hard at a very important publishing company, she’s gone to work by 6am and home no later than 8pm most nights. She lives on coffee and wine to wake her up in the mornings and relax her at night. So she gets her an espresso maker and some crystal wine glasses. But when she goes to pay for them, Aaron reaches out and pulls the wine glasses towards himself. “I’ll get these, I can’t go without a gift.” 
She smiles, “you don’t have to.” 
“I want to,” he assures her. 
They pay, they get a decorative gift bag each and head back outside to the cold. He reaches for her hand again and she lets him, smiling over at him. “You’re taking this assignment very seriously.” 
“Have you ever known me to slack on the job?” He teases. 
She bumps her shoulder against his, “No, I guess not… and I guess this is helping, it’ll look more real in front of everyone tomorrow.” 
“It won’t be that hard,” he assures her.
“Why, 'cause I’m so loveable?” She jokes, not believing the words that leave her mouth. 
“Yes, actually,” he nods, smiling over at her. 
She just laughs, not thinking he means it as anything other than familial. “Thanks. You’re pretty great too when you’re not telling me what to do.” 
“I don’t boss you around that much,” he laughs too. “Dave teases me all the time about how much nicer I am to you than the others.” 
“Well, I am your best agent,” she shrugs with a proud smirk. “You wanna go back to the hotel or is there anything you want to do tonight?” 
“We can go back,” he agrees, leading them in the direction of the hotel already. “I’m going to need some good beauty sleep to make your ex jealous tomorrow.” 
“Ha!” She laughs, raising her hand that’s carrying the bag to cover her mouth as she giggles. “Yeah, no you don’t. You’re like a million times hotter than him, it’s not a fair fight at all.” 
“Yeah, okay,” he shakes his head in disbelief. 
“What?” She looks at him like he’s crazy. “Do you not think you’re hot?” 
“Not exactly…” 
“I knew you were funny but that’s hilarious,” she jokes. “You’re very, very hot. One of the hottest men I’ve ever seen in my life, like People magazine should be reaching out to you for sexiest man of the year. You’ve been on the news enough times, surely the public will agree.” 
He laughs at the compliment, “Thank you, I guess… I guess I should trust your judgement here the way I do everywhere else.” 
“Yes, 'cause I’m never wrong,” she reminds him. 
They keep joking around, teasing each other until they get back to the hotel. Up the elevator and into their room. They leave their gifts by the door and Aaron lets her take the first turn in the bathroom to get ready for the night. 
She takes off her makeup, she washes her face and does her skincare routine and he knocks, “Are you okay in there?” 
“Yeah, you can come in,” she announces, still fully dressed. 
He opens the door slowly, “You’ve been in here 10 minutes already I thought you were just changing?” 
“Nope, skincare is important,” she smiles at him, massaging the moisturizer into her face. “Want some?” 
He smiles, “Sure, why not?” 
“Wash your face first, get a new face cloth over there,” she points and steps out of the way of the sink. “My face wash is right there.” 
She watches him wash his face carefully, smiling at him through the mirror with so much affection behind her eyes. He’s so cute when he gets soft like this, she could easily see them having a life like this together. Getting ready for bed together, doing their nighttime routines and falling into the same bed. Night after night. Forever. 
Once his face is washed he looks to her, “How much moisturizer do I use?” 
“Want me to do it?” She offers. 
He nods, “please?” 
“Sit down on the toilet lid,” she instructs and he moves over there quickly. 
She opens the jar again and takes a decent-sized amount onto her fingers, she puts the jar down and smiles at him, “It might be cold.” She dabs it on his forehead, cheeks, nose and chin and then starts to rub it in for him. He closes his eyes and sighs as he leans into it. “Like it?” 
He hums, nodding slightly, not wanting to talk incase he accidentally got cream in his mouth. She just smiles, adoringly, loving that she gets to have moments like this with him. “You’re so cute…” she whispers. 
He chuckles, finally looking at her again. She cups his face in her hands, “all done.” 
“You’re cuter.” 
“What is happening here?” She asks, completely serious. “Are you just a good actor or—
“I was in a few plays,” he teases. “But no, I’m not acting.” 
“Do you have a thing for me?” She lights right up. “Oh my god, you do?” 
“And you call yourself a profiler,” he shakes his head. “Yes, okay? I like you. I think you’re wonderful and beautiful and everything I want— is that what you wanted me to say?” 
“Get up,” she says, pulling at him. 
“Why?” He asks as he stands. 
“So you can be taller than me when I kiss you,” she teases. Grabbing him by his shirt and pulling him in. 
The kiss is soft at first, cute and sweet… but then they get needy. Years of close proximity and bubbling feelings and “what ifs” all coming to the surface. He cups the back of her head with one hand and holds her lower back with the other, holding her flush to his chest as his tongue makes her acquaintance. 
She accidentally moans as his hand goes down to cup her ass and he smiles against her. He pulls back slightly, noses brushing. “I can’t tell you how long I’ve waited to do that.” 
“Really?” She can’t believe it. 
He smiles before he steals another kiss, and another and another and before they know it he’s backed her out of the bathroom and all the way to their king bed. He has her on the mattress, hand on her back and the nape of her neck as he cradles her and hovers over her. His tongue on hers, their chests pressed together, and her hands on his back with her nails desperately clinging to the cotton. 
He eagerly moves to kiss her neck and while it feels so good, she’s worried about what is about to go down. Sure, she hoped for this. She thought maybe they’d have a few drinks at the party tomorrow and stumble home and fall into bed together and regret it in the morning but this… admitting to liking each other while completely sober, was not on her mind at all. 
“Aaron,” she whispers, hesitation in her voice. 
He pulls back, “something wrong?” 
“Are we going to regret this?” She worries. 
He cups her face gently, his body weight still on top of her, it’s oddly comforting to feel so trapped under him. “I know I won’t, but if you will, then we stop. I never want you to regret your time with me. I never want you to be uncomfortable with me. I never want to lose what we have… so if that means we never have more than a friendship, I'm perfectly okay with that.” 
“I have tried so hard not to love you for the last year and a bit that we’ve been friends,” she admits. “If we go further and you change your mind, I’ll never recover.” 
“I won’t change my mind,” he says, confident as ever. “I want you to love me as much as I already love you.” 
His thumb caresses her cheek while he talks, he looks at her with the most affectionate look she’s ever seen on him. He’s so handsome all the time, but this look. The softness, his big brown eyes, the way he smelled like her face cream and he kept looking down at her lips like he was dying to taste them again… she’s always believed him when he speaks, but this is different. He’s opened his chest and handed her his heart and he wants her to hold it and keep it safe... forever. 
“I love you,” she admits, tearing up because this is so unreal. “I love you so much, Aaron.” 
He kisses her again, so gently, breathing her in and savouring every moment. Sure, it’s not their first kiss, that happened 10 minutes ago, but this is the first kiss they’ll have being openly in love with each other. 
She kisses him again and again, never wanting this to end. She wraps her legs around him, she holds him closer than ever and he lightly moans against her. She starts to work at his shirt, unbuttoning it so she can get her hands under it. She wraps her arms around him, touching his hot skin as he breaks the kiss and moves down her neck. 
“I love you, so much,” he reminds her again. 
“Show me how much?” she whispers right into his ear. 
He pulls back, delicately looking into her eyes, “are you sure?” 
She nods, “more than I’ve ever been before.” 
He gets his shirt off, and he pulls her forward to pull hers off too. Through kisses and rolling around, his pants are off, then her’s. Behind her, he kisses her spine while he unclips her bra, pushing each strap off her arms with kisses to her shoulders, he cups her breasts and kisses up to her ear again, “lay down.” 
She listens, he gets between her legs and peels her underwear off. Raising her right leg, he kisses her knee and down her thigh, as he gets on his stomach, he looks up at her for permission and all she can do is nod because this seems unreal. His big beautiful brown eyes are looking at her from between her legs as he kisses the most intimate part of her body and she’s in heaven. 
She’s died and gone to heaven. The train must’ve crashed and she’s in her own personalized forever with the man of her dreams…. But it didn’t. This is real and happening and she should be enjoying it. 
She grips his hair, and her back arches as she moans into the contact, he’s so fucking good with his mouth because of course he is? Is there anything this man can’t do?
Full of love and zero expectations or worry, she feels herself getting closer to an orgasm so much faster than she has with anyone else ever. Not even herself. Normally she’s so in her head, so nervous and worried or barely being taken care of… this one just sneaks up on her, trembling through her, she grips his hair a little tighter and moans out his name, “Oh, oh I’m cumming, I’m— oh!” 
He laps up every last drop as she rides it out, overstimulating her slightly, and he can tell. He pulls back with a grin, proud of himself and enjoying the way she looks so fucked out like this. 
He kisses back up her tummy, between her boobs and then hovers over her while she’s still catching her breath, “hi…” 
She smiles, “Hi?” 
“Ready for me to show you the rest?” 
“There’s more?” She teases, “You love me more than that?”
He laughs, “Yeah, that was just a taste…” 
She pulls him in for a kiss, tasting herself on his lips. “Mm, a good taste.” 
“You’re telling me,” he growls. “I could do that every day for the rest of my life.” 
“And I’d let you…” 
He kisses her again, cause if he doesn’t, she won’t stop teasing him. 
Kissing him while coming down from her high, feels unreal. She’s floating on a cloud, and might as well be on drugs— it feels too good, she moans against him, legs wrapped around him, she never wants to let him go. He kisses the side of her mouth, “baby—
She hums, pulling him back in for another kiss. 
He pulls back, “I can’t fuck you with my boxers still on.” 
She sighs, pretending it’s more work than it is, “Fine, take ‘em off.” 
He shakes his head with a smile as she lets him go and he’s able to push his boxers off. “And I need to grab a condom—
“did you bring condoms?” She sounds shocked. 
He nods, “yeah… I didn’t expect anything, I just always have some in my toiletries bag.” 
She watches his cute ass jiggle as he walks towards his bag, he squats to undo the zipper and she tries not to laugh at the view of his balls dangling but it’s so endearing somehow? He’s real and there and he’s about to rock her world. 
He’s quick to grab what he wants, he rips the condom open with his teeth and tosses the wrapper to the floor as he rolls it on right beside the bed. She watches carefully, eyes scanning his whole body. She hasn’t really had a good look at him while naked yet, he’s been pressed against the bed or on top of her. But damn. 
“Jesus,” she whispers under her breath. 
He smirks, “what?” 
She waves her hand around in his general direction, “You just walk around with all that under your suits every day?” 
He shakes his head again, “I could say the same thing about you.” 
He crawls back onto the bed, between her legs again, one hand on the bed as he hovers over her, “you okay with this position?” 
She nods, “perfectly okay with it. It’s a very underrated position.” 
“Mhm,” he agrees, leaning in to kiss her again. One hand on her hip, he grinds himself against her, “Ready?” 
She nodded, watching as he lets go of her hip to grip himself at the base, she spreads her legs a bit more and he taps her clit once just for fun but it makes her whine, “Don’t tease me.” 
“But you can tease me?” He asks, head right at her entrance, about to push in… she nods and that’s when he does it. Watching her head tip back with a silent moan. “Now I know how to get you quiet.” 
He goes back to rest his hand on her hip but she reaches for them and interlocks their fingers, instead. He bottomed out and dropped to hover over her once more, bringing their interlocked hands over her head. 
She reached up to kiss him, but Aaron pushed into the kiss and made her settle into the pillow once again. It honestly felt like a movie scene, the first time between two star-crossed lovers. He pulled out ever so slightly before thrusting in again, she gasped against his mouth. Aaron trusted more while she pushed her hips into it as well, an offbeat rhythm developed in pure ecstasy. She let go of Aaron’s hands to snake them around his waist, to run her fingers over the soft and slightly chilled skin of his back. Feeling the bump of his spine Aaron ducked into the crook of her neck, placing kisses along her collarbone.
He changed the position of his thrust as he wrapped his arms under her, arching her back ever so slightly to reach the bundle of nerves that left her a quivering mess. She, in response to the added pleasure, ran her sharp nails down Aaron’s back and he groaned at the feeling, “do that again.” he requested.
“Like that?” She asked, dragging his nails down him once more.
“Yeah,” Aaron moaned, dark and deep. “Mark me… where no one can see it, only you know tomorrow.”
So she does, she runs her nails over his back with more intent, knowing there will be 8 red lines spread down his back in the morning. Just then, he starts to kiss lower, down to her boobs, where he sucks a mark that shouldn't be visible in her dress tomorrow… he wanted to mark her just as bad. But his kisses quickly return to her neck and lower ear. 
“Aaron,” she moans out. “Go a little faster?” 
He does as she asks, keeping that loving feeling but picking up the pace. The feeling of pure bliss overtook her body with each thrust, warm chills ran through him with each brush of his thumb on her clit. Every kiss to her neck and squeeze around her waist made her feel like she was on fire. The hairs on her arms stood up, and goosebumps formed along his forearms. Aaron kissed from her neck to her nipple and took the hard nib into his mouth causing her to moan like she never had before.
“Aaron,” she panted, pulling Aaron’s face back up to his.
His eyes were absolutely blown out in pleasure, those chocolate wonders he used to stare into were now replaced solely by the pupils. She ran her thumb across Aaron’s cheek before reaching to the nape of his neck to pull him into another kiss. Open mouths pressed together, hot air on each other’s faces as they panted to the pleasure.
She was in heaven.
Her orgasm bubbled in her stomach, “are you close?” Aaron whispered right beside her mouth, kissing her cheek lightly after.
She hummed, unable to speak with the mass amount of pleasure coursing through her body. Aaron fucked into her a bit harder, a tiny bit faster, hitting her G-spot dead on each time to the point the nerves in her thighs were quaking uncontrollably.
She was so close, Aaron used 3 fingers to quickly rub over her clit before she threw her head back with a shout. Cumming with her eyes pressed shut, pleasure coursed through her body stronger than she’s ever felt before.
Nothing had ever made her cum that hard, ripping through her like her soul was leaving her body. She dug her nails deep into Aaron’s skin holding him close to his body while he kept thrusting.
A high-pitched gasp left his lips, close to her ear as his hips sputtered into hers one last time. She still hadn’t opened her eyes, her breath rigid, she felt winded. Aaron had stilled as he came inside of her and then collapsed into her, deadweight lying on her.
But she didn’t mind. Not in the slightest. She wrapped herself around him even tighter and kissed the side of his head, “I love you, too.” 
He kisses her neck, “I can’t believe I was afraid to tell you…” 
“Silly man, we could’ve been doing that the whole time,” she teases him again the first chance she gets. 
He huffs a little laugh out of his nose, smiling against her. “We can do this all the time now.” 
“Mhm,” she squeezes him a little tighter. “I hope you know this means we’re dating now. I don’t just fuck anyone. Especially not my boss…” 
He manages to push himself up to look at her, and the look on his face says it all. “Yeah, I know… and I’ll handle the paperwork when we get back.” 
—
They get all dolled up together, between kisses and flirting and teasing… they end up fully dressed, presents in hand, on their way to the party. They hold hands the whole cab ride over, up the elevator and into the booming restaurant. 
It’s entirely booked out for her sister’s party, on the top floor of a fancy building. It’s completely catered, there are fancy waiters walking around with trays of hors d’oeuvres and expensive champagne. They have their gifts taken from their hands upon arrival and their hands are instantly filled with a drink. She looks around, looking for the first person she knows well and spots her mom and dad over on the other side of the room. 
“Come with me, I have some people I want you to meet…” she says as she leads him through the crowd. 
He’s nervous but more excited. She gets to show him off and this isn’t a lie. He really is her boyfriend and they are in love and happy and this is everything he’s ever wanted. With his hand around her waist the whole time, shoulder to shoulder, he meets her parents and her sister. He shakes hands with her dad and her new brother-in-law, he gets hugs from the mom and sister, they’re looking at her with eyes that he can hear. They’re saying how much of an improvement he is to the last guy, they’re amazed at how handsome he is, and he blushes slightly in response. 
“So how long has this been going on?” Her dad asks. 
She looks up at him and smiles, “Not long, but we’re really happy.” 
“The happiest,” he agrees, stealing a quick kiss from her that makes the women swoon. 
“You know, this is fantastic,” her sister announces. “I was worried you’d be upset to see Brad and Cameron here together but now you have Aaron and they’re not even coming anymore. Something happened… I don’t even think they’re together anymore.” 
“Oh?” She’s completely shocked to hear that. 
“Once a cheater always a cheater,” her brother-in-law says under his breath with the roll of his eyes. 
“We see it all the time at work,” Aaron agrees. “It’s pathological. They crave attention so intensely that they’ll do anything to get it, to the detriment of the people they love. They cheat because for a moment they’re the most important person, they’re attractive enough to get who they want and powerful enough to get away with it. And even when it blows up in their face they can play the ‘you wouldn’t be this mad if you weren’t so obsessed with me’ card.” 
“That’s Brad,” her dad agrees. “Good riddance, honestly.” 
“Let’s just leave it there,” her mom announces. “We’re here for Lindsay and Connor.” 
“It’s been lovely to meet you Aaron, but we have a lot of people to mingle with,” Lindsay announces and Connor sighs. “We’ll talk again later?” 
“Sounds good,” Y/N lets them head off and then she’s just with her parents. “Um, I’m hungry… Aaron, did you want to go raid the snacks?” 
“I’d love to,” he agrees. “It was lovely to meet you both.” 
“We hope to see you again regularly?” Her mother throws in. 
“I don’t plan on going anywhere,” he assures, “you should get used to me.” 
She manages to pull him away from them, a little overwhelmed and so in love with him. She gets him to an empty corner and looks up at him like he’s crazy, “did you seriously say that?” 
He nods, “What part of last night didn’t you understand? I’m madly in love with you. I would marry you tomorrow if it wouldn’t take the attention off your sister.” 
She just laughs, shocked and amazed that he just said that. “Really?” 
“Yes. Really.” 
She shakes her head in disbelief, “o-okay… but you still have to ask me. I don’t need anything big and extravagant and I’d like to maybe pick the ring out with you if you want but—
“You want to?” 
She nods, that teasing smirk he loves so much plastered on her face, “I don’t just want to be your work wife, Aaron.” 
“We’ll revisit this in the new year… I need Jack to know about this and be okay with it before I spring a step-mom on him,” he explains. 
“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
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heaven4lostgirls ¡ 11 months ago
Text
I deserve better (A.H)
pairing: aaron hotchner x reader
warning: angst, breakups, mentions of haley's death, reader is compared to haley, breakdowns, aaron has healing to do</3
summary: aaron comes home from a hard case with his decision already made, he's in for a very rude awakening when reader sees right through his bs.
word count: 1.5k
There was a loneliness in the air that felt almost palpable after your breakup with Aaron. It felt like an amalgamation of every broken promise and empty silences you both sat in, trying to grasp onto invisible strings surrounding your love. If you thought hard enough, you could almost clearly imagine what used to be his breathing when he used to lie on the now cold side of the bed. His presence haunted every empty corner of your now prodigious apartment.
You closed your eyes in the dark as your mind unwillingly drifted to the conversation with your now ex-boyfriend.      The sound of the door opening to Aaron’s home made you look away from the television as you waited with bated breath and a smile to see your boyfriend, only the expression he held on his face when your gazes met was one you knew you would commit to memory. Guilt, anguish. Probably worse if you had bothered to push deeper but you knew that you couldn’t do that yourself.
“Aaron?” your voice echoes in the living room and all he can do is hesitate, you watch as his hands shake as he places his badge, gun and bag down before making his way to you, his steps purposeful yet cautious and deep down you knew that whatever he was going to say was going to change the trajectory of your relationship.
“Hey” he whispers as he sits on the opposite end of the couch which only cements your worries, maybe he’s finally decided that him and Jack didn’t need another addition to their family, maybe he’s decided he’s had enough of you. “We need to talk” he starts, and your only response is a small nod as your underlying anxiety bubbles under your skin like a festering wound.
 “This- This case, it really made me realise something.” He starts and you can already feel your expression shifting from worry to confusion, he must recognise your own emotions as you do his as he continues swiftly. “The unsub mentioned you when we caught him, he knew your name” he says harshly and you look at him shocked, why hadn’t he told you any of this when you’d called him after he had wrapped up the case? “I promised myself when Haley passed away that I would never put someone I cared about in the position to be used against me” he says and your heart drops.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” you ask out of genuine curiosity. He closes his eyes and clenches his hands into fists, “I think you know.” He croaks out and you scoff which only causes him to look at you  in confusion, “You’re being selfish” you bite out and he looks alarmed at the harsh words. “You’re not even letting me choose what I want to do about my OWN safety?” you ask harshly but soft enough as to not wake Jack up.
 He’s shaking his head before you can even finish your sentence, “you don’t get it!” he insists as he implores you understand what he’s saying. “you-you’ve never had to hold your d-dead wife’s body in your hands, wishing for her to come back, wishing you could tell her how much she means to you” he insists as his eyes well with tears and your heart drops at his confession.
“And I hope I never have to feel that, but Aaron you can’t keep taking your grief out on our relationship, I  know it hurts, but how  am I supposed to think you’re ending this for me when you’re putting Haley first even in death?” you whisper and against your own better judgement, you feel a few tears fall from your eyes.
“That-That is NOT what is happening.” He says again and you can see the frustration boiling over for him, “That’s not fair to me Aaron, you know that” you say, and you watch as confusion shifts on his features, “Wait no hold on, I didn’t mean it like that-”
“You didn’t have to. I always thought you’d meant in a constructive way for me, consistently telling me when I make Jack’s meals that it’s not the way Haley would’ve made it, when you tell me not to buy certain perfumes and body washes because it reminded you too much of Haley. But now I realise that you’ve been carrying this dead weight after her death, and it’s not fair for me to be carrying it with you. I will never replace Haley, but I do know that I deserve a lot more than being compared to her everyday just because you haven’t dealt with your grief.”
“Honey, hold on, just wait please-”
“I was going to fight for you Aaron , truly.  I came into this conversation thinking of ways to help you not give up on us, but I can’t do that when the one thing pushing you is a woman I can never compete with.”
Aaron looks distraught and your heart feels simultaneously lighter and broken at the same time, His healing needed to take priority and you knew that his journey didn’t necessarily have space for you. And that was okay, at the end of the day the one thing you had always wished was to see Aaron Hotchner happy, and if that meant he had to do it without you, you would deal.
“I love you” he says, his eyes begging you to believe him, and your lips lift at his statement, as they’ve done a million times before, a force of habit. You shift closer to him and grasp his hand in yours as you place your other one on his face. His eyes close at the contact and he starts shaking his head, “Don’t- don’t do this right now. Please don’t do this Y/N.” his voice cracks.
Your lips quivers and you attempt to move your hand to smother the sob building in your chest but as your hand lifts off of his cheek his eyes are open wide, alarmed to feel you slipping away and he grasps you closer to him, looking into your eyes wildly as you look into his eyes, hoping all of your love is shining through them. “You know I have to.” You whisper and his expression is pained as he feels your hands run through his hair.
“I  can’t do this without you” he confesses as he chokes on his tears, his hands grasping to your hips and arms as though you’d disappear if he looked away. “You’re going to be just fine, I promise” you say, and he shakes his head before the sobs escape him and he leans his head into your body as sobs wrack through his body. Warbled cries of “I’m sorry” flood from him and all you can do is hold him through it, hoping it  brings him some form of comfort.
You console him until he tires himself out, he looks so much more peaceful when he’s asleep, his furrowed brow is smoothed out and if not for the tear tracks running down his cheeks you would never be able to know how much pain he was just in. You manoeuvre him to lay on the couch, a suitable enough pillow under his head and a soft blanket covering him. Your hand still lays outstretched in his grip, and you bite your lip as you try to let him let go.
As  soon as your hand leaves his grip, he’s  whimpering and grasping for some form of contact from you, you quickly snatch one of Jack’s teddy bears from the floor and you place it within his grasp, he grasps it almost immediately and holds it close to his chest. Your eyes mist over and you take a few minutes to breathe deeply and once calm, you quickly plan.
You take an old overnight bag you used to use before you started staying for weekends, such as this one. You pack the clothes you use the most and some work essentials before packing up your toiletries and everything else that can fit in your car. Everything looks so immensely empty when all your stuff is gone, with a quick little kiss to Jack’s cheek, you switch on your car, and you drive the route to your apartment.
In the silence and solace of your car, you allow yourself to break, sobs wrack through your body and your scream and cry as you make the drive to your place. You break again when you see the emptiness and coldness of your apartment, there’s none of Jack’s drawings on the fridge, none of Aarons past case files on the dining table, none of their shoes at the entrance and none of everything of what you loved and missed dearly.
Which brings you to now, in your bed, unable to look at the other side usually occupied by an Aaron sized lump. You don’t sleep, when the sun starts rising and coming through your room, you don’t move. When your alarm goes off at 7AM, you don’t move. When Aaron’s name flashes on your screen with multiple unanswered calls, you don’t move. You eventually get  up to go to work and exist throughout the day.
Nobody asks you what’s wrong and you don’t divulge, you know it will take you a long time to feel okay enough to even see Aaron again but for now, you can mourn and think of what could have been as you learn how to live without half of yourself.
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hotchfied ¡ 8 months ago
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ー [darling, in any life] MASTERLIST ☆
AARON HOTCHNER x FEM!READER
The red thread between two people destined to be together may stretch and tangle, but those ties will never break. Or: Your ex-almost-first-boyfriend meets you on a train and old sparks fly the same.
STATUS: On going
Content: Canon compliant (?). Overall fluff. Childhood friends separated. Second chances. Oldies in love. No use of Y/N. Some non explicit sexy times.
On my mind since the flood
Lay down with me
Darling, lean your weight to me
Synchronized with you
The most dangerous thing is to love
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rumplereids ¡ 8 months ago
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hi! i’m rio. 21. she/her. enjoyer of criminal minds, taylor swift, seventeen, and whatever else my brain decides to hyperfixate on. (english is not my first language).
main | twitter
WRITTEN WORKS BELOW !
** - newest fic !
and then, just like clockwork.
tags: spencer reid x fem!reader x aaron hotchner. ex-wife!reader. not really infidelity. smut. heavily implied but not in depth polyamory. i think they need couple’s counselling. part one.
part two.
tech analyst!reader.
[1] kiss, kiss, fall in love.
tags: making out. clothed grinding. what glasses!spencer deserved.
[1.5] kiss, kiss, fall in love [extra].
tags: text messages. super short. inaccurate use of imessage (bcos the fic is set in the flip phone era of criminal minds lol).
[2] wonderstruck.
tags: meet-cute. reader's backstory-ish. early s1!spencer.
[3] research purposes.
tags: fluff & crack. referenced/mentioned sexual acts but nothing explicit. mentions of 50 shades of grey. bau ladies are like gossiping wine moms.
shining light.
tags: spencer reid x fem!reader. dad!spencer. pregnant!reader. childbirth complications but nothing explicit.
socmed aus.
[1] kinda-boyfriend texts.
tags: spencer reid x reader. fluff.
[2] (gonna be ur) boyfriend texts.
tags: spencer reid x reader. fluff.
[3] soft launch.
tags: spencer reid x fem!reader. fluff. elle fanning faceclaim.
[4] spoiled rotten.
tags: spencer reid x reader. fluff.
[4.5] spoiled rotten 2.0 **
tags: spencer reid x reader. fluff.
untitled works.
[1] reader gets shot.
tags: spencer reid x fem!reader. hurt/comfort.
recollections of time.
tags: spencer reid x reader. mostly horny thoughts. 1:05 am. 1:37 am. 5:51 am.
OTHER IMPORTANT LINKS !
fic recs (July Version).
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natashasfilms ¡ 2 years ago
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You’re Losing Me
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Summary: Dating a colleague has always been an exhilarating experience. However, as you reach a point where you’re ready to take the relationship further after spending years together, doubts start to creep in. You begin questioning whether you’re the only one putting effort into saving something that seems to be slowly fading away.
Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x BAU!Fem!Reader
Warnings: taylor swift’s song “you’re losing me”, angst, fluff, coworker relationship, language, drowning, stabs, injuries, usual criminal minds stuff, use of y/n, lovers to exes to lovers again, not really unrequited love, insecurity, making out, happy ending
Word Count: 7,938 (the longest one shot i’ve written so far…)
Note: It’s been so so so long since I’ve posted anything on here, so enjoy a little Aaron Hotchner one shot! I’m think of writing an Aaron Hotchner/Criminal Minds series, similar to my Steve Harrington/Stranger Things series, but it may take me a while to finish writing the entire thing. Maybe I’ll write a few chapters and then upload those and write along as I go but I don’t want to do that in case I lose motivation throughout the midst of it. We’ll see what happens! It’s just that I’m super busy but I have such great ideas for this series!
Criminal Minds Masterlist
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As the sunlight slowly filtered through the windows, you began to awake from your slumber. Opening your eyes, you gazed at the ceiling and felt the comforting embrace of a pair of arms around your waist. Turning your head, you smiled at the man sleeping beside you and planted a gentle kiss on the top of his head. After disentangling yourself from his arms, you got out of bed.
Quickly, you took a shower, brushed your teeth, and dressed for the day. Upon leaving the bathroom, you found your boyfriend, Aaron, sitting at the edge of the bed, rubbing his eyes. “Morning, Aaron.” You greeted him.
He looked up with a grin, standing up to meet you. “Morning.” He responded, giving you a kiss on the cheek before heading to the bathroom himself.
You then entered Jack’s room to wake him up and get him ready for school. Seeing him still asleep, you approached with a gentle touch, waking him with a soft rub on his head. “Jack, sweetie, it’s time to wake up.”
Jack groaned, still half-asleep. “Five more minutes.”
You chuckled, playfully poking his cheek. “Come on, buddy. You’ll be late for school.” Eventually, Jack sat up in bed, and you left his room with a cheeky smile.
Preparing breakfast for your two boys, you heard footsteps down the hall. Setting the plates on the table, you watched as Jack settled into his seat. “Thank you, Y/N! This looks good!”
Nodding, you gave him a quick kiss on the forehead before you and Aaron sat down at the table. He reached out to hold your hand as a gesture of thanks, which made your heart flutter with affection.
After bidding Jack farewell and dropping him off at school, you and Aaron began your drive to work. Upon arriving, you entered the office first, as your relationship with Aaron was not public knowledge except to Strauss. You both agreed to keep it quiet to avoid potential workplace issues, though you wouldn’t mind being open about it if the opportunity arose. You weren’t entirely sure how Aaron felt about that.
Sitting at your desk, you watched Aaron make his way upstairs to his office, trying not to draw any unnecessary attention. Your colleagues, Emily, Derek, Elle, Spencer, and JJ, were already at their desks, engaged in friendly chatter while working on their paperwork. You joined in, laughing at Emily and Derek’s playful banter.
At times, you felt the urge to spend more time with Aaron in his office, but you respected his decision to keep your relationship private. However, you couldn’t help but wonder if you were the only one who truly cared about the relationship. Four years together, and you were eagerly awaiting for him to pop the question. But that seemed to be indefinitely postponed. It sometimes felt like you were the only one putting effort into the relationship.
Fortunately, the entire day turned out to be pleasantly light. With no new cases, the office was buzzing with paperwork and fueled by several cups of coffee. Every so often, Penelope would come over to chat with all of you, as she often felt lonely in her own office. Her presence brought joy, and you always welcomed her with a warm smile, her infectious happiness lifting your spirits.
As the day drew to a close, the office was nearly empty, with only you, Aaron, and Elle remaining on the current floor. Elle grabbed her bag, ready to head out.
“See you tomorrow, Elle.” You called out, waving.
Elle smiled back at you. “You’re leaving right now, right?”
You nodded, turning to your desk to organize your files. “Yep, just need to gather these files and hand them over to Hotch.”
Her eyes shifted to the man in question, who was still seated at his desk in his office. “Does he ever sleep?” Elle asked, furrowing her brows.
Chuckling, you stood up. “I’d like to say yes, but he’s practically a robot.”
Elle hummed, and her gaze returned to you. “Do you want me to wait for you?” She offered.
You widened your eyes slightly, quickly clearing your throat. “Oh, no, you go ahead. I don’t want to keep you waiting.”
“It’s not a problem, honestly.” Elle reassured you, but you waved your hand dismissively.
“No, really. You can go on ahead. I have to ask Hotch a few questions about the paperwork, anyway.”
You noticed a subtle shift in Elle’s eyes, but you couldn’t quite pinpoint it. “Right. Well, I’ll see you tomorrow, Y/N.” She said, bidding you goodbye before making her way to the glass doors and stepping into the elevator.
Feeling a sense of relief, you let out a sigh, almost convinced that Elle had caught on to your and Aaron’s relationship. Shaking your head to dismiss such thoughts, you collected all the files and made your way up to his office, lightly knocking on the door. Aaron’s voice invited you in, prompting you to enter.
As he looked up from his work, his stern expression softened into one of happiness at the sight of you. You couldn’t help but grin, placing the files on his desk. “It’s late, we should get going.”
Furrowing his brows, Aaron checked the time, and his eyes widened in surprise. “Oh, I didn’t even realize how late it got.” He admitted, quickly gathering the files and organizing everything for the next day.
Both of you exited the building and walked to your car. Settling inside, you watched Aaron start the engine and drive off, your mind preoccupied with thoughts. You were contemplating whether to broach the topic of taking your relationship to the next level or even considering making it public. Although you should have felt at ease discussing it with Aaron, anxiety gripped your heart, causing it to beat rapidly.
Despite knowing Aaron to be the most kind-hearted man you’ve known for years, you couldn’t help but fear his response. You didn’t want this conversation to become a make-or-break moment for your relationship, yet you also couldn’t bear to keep hiding in the shadows any longer.
Arriving at your shared apartment, you both entered, setting your bags down by the door and turning on the lights. With Jack spending the night at Jessica’s, you and Aaron found yourselves alone, creating an opportunity for you to bring up a potentially important conversation.
Deciding to allow yourselves a moment to freshen up and have dinner before broaching the important topic, you wanted to ensure neither of you went to bed hungry in case the conversation didn't go smoothly.
After showering, having dinner, and relaxing, you finally felt ready to initiate the conversation. Throughout the evening, you sensed Aaron’s eyes on you, and it was time for him to ask what was bothering you.
“You’ve been tense all night.” Aaron observed, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder as you both sat on the couch. “Is something wrong?”
Your mind raced through different approaches to the problem, but you still didn’t feel fully prepared as you began to respond to his question. “I’ve been doing some thinking.”
He arched an eyebrow, pulling you closer by wrapping his arm around your shoulder. “Care to share?”
With a tight-lipped smile, you took a deep breath, attempting to calm your nerves. “Have you ever considered...making our relationship public?”
As soon as the words left your mouth, Aaron’s arms dropped from your shoulder. Your heart sank to the pit of your stomach, dreading his response.
“Aaron?” You anxiously waited for his answer, but he fell silent, trying to find the right words to respond to you. “Can you please say something?”
Aaron’s face tightened with hesitation as he tried to find the right words to respond to your question. He glanced away, unable to meet your eyes directly, and sighed heavily. “I...I haven’t really thought about going public.” He finally admitted, his voice tinged with uncertainty. “Our relationship has always been private, and it’s been working for us. I’m afraid of how things might change if we make it public.”
Your heart sank, sensing the reluctance in his response. “But Aaron, we’ve been together for so long, and I’m tired of just hiding our relationship. I want to be with you openly, without constantly worrying about keeping it a secret.” You pleaded, tears welling up in your eyes.
“I know that.” Aaron said, his voice softening. “But we both know how the nature of our work is. If our relationship becomes public, it could jeopardize everything we’ve built here. I can’t risk that, especially for Jack’s sake.”
Frustration and sadness engulfed you, and you felt a surge of emotions welling up inside. “So, you’re choosing your job and keeping up appearances over us? Over me?” You exclaimed, your voice quivering with hurt.
“That’s not what I meant. It’s just not that simple.” Aaron replied, reaching out to touch your arm, but you pulled away.
“Then enlighten me, Aaron. What do you mean? Because maybe it’s not simple for you, but it is for me.” You said firmly, your heart breaking. “I can’t keep living like this. I deserve better than this, Aaron.”
He looked torn, his eyes reflecting his own pain. “I don’t want to lose you.” He murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.
“But you’re not willing to fight for us.” You responded, tears streaming down your cheeks. “Tell me, Aaron. Did you even plan on marrying me?”
His silence spoke louder than words, and it was all you needed to get your answer. The truth hung heavily in the air, and your heart shattered in less than two minutes, your fears coming true. The pain of realization washed over you, leaving you feeling raw and vulnerable.
You desperately wanted things to go back to how they were, to find comfort in the familiarity of your relationship. But deep down, you knew that settling for someone who didn’t put effort into the relationship wasn’t right for you. You deserved someone who cherished and valued you, someone who saw a future with you and was willing to fight for it.
“Looks like you’ve already lost me.” You said, your voice cracking with emotion. You hastily wiped away your tears, determined not to break down completely. Standing up from your spot on the couch, you avoided Aaron’s gaze as you walked away, trying to maintain some composure. “I’m sleeping in the guest room tonight.”
The realization that the love of your life might not have felt the same way about you as you thought shattered your heart into pieces. You couldn’t bear to stay in a relationship that made you feel worthless.
What made it even more painful was that Aaron had always been the kindest man you had ever known. He had made you feel loved, supported, and cared for, especially during your lowest moments. However, now, you couldn’t help but question everything.
“Dad?” Jack spoke, catching his father’s attention as he helped put his backpack on. “When is Y/N coming back?”
It had been a week since you and Aaron broke up, and the impact of the decision weighed heavily on both of you. In the aftermath, you moved out of Aaron’s apartment, leaving behind the memories of a once loving relationship. Aaron struggled with the reality that you weren’t living with him anymore. He had tried to apologize and convince you to reconsider, but you remained firm in your decision. You believed that taking some time and space apart was essential for both of you to figure out what you truly wanted.
“I’m not sure, buddy.” Aaron replied to Jack with a gentle smile, masking the turmoil within his heart. “Y/N needed some time to think about things, and we both agreed it was best to take some space for now.”
Jack frowned, sensing that something significant had changed. He missed having you around, and it was hard for him to understand the complexities of adult relationships. But he trusted his father and hoped that things would work out for the best.
Despite your desire for space, maintaining it was extremely challenging when you had to work together. Nevertheless, you were grateful that the rest of the team didn’t seem to notice any change in your demeanor towards each other. You made a concerted effort to act as you always did while on the job, which wasn’t too difficult, considering you had always portrayed your relationship as strictly professional, pretending to know each other only as coworkers.
Aaron despised himself for not being open and honest with you that night, for jeopardizing the relationship you had built over the years. He loved you deeply, and the thought of marrying you had crossed his mind countless times. However, fear had gripped his heart. The pain of losing Haley had left him hesitant about committing to another relationship, and he believed he could never truly move on. Yet, you had always supported him throughout that challenging time. Your constant presence by his side, understanding, and care had gradually allowed him to let go of his fears. Before he knew it, he had become deeply attached to you, and his love for you had grown immeasurably.
It wasn’t that he was ashamed of you that he didn’t want anyone to know about your relationship. Instead, Aaron feared that making it public might endanger you, given the high-stakes nature of their work and the potential risks involved. He wanted to protect you from any repercussions that might arise if their personal relationship were exposed in the often dangerous and unpredictable world they worked in. Although it pained him to keep your love hidden, he believed it was a necessary precaution to keep you safe. After Haley, he didn’t want to make the same mistake again.
Now, he felt utterly foolish. Regret washed over him as he realized he should have communicated with you more openly, explaining why he felt the way he did instead of leaving you to question his love. The pain of knowing that you thought he didn’t reciprocate your feelings, that you believed he was ashamed of you, weighed heavily on his heart.
He wished he could turn back time and find the courage to share his fears and concerns with you, to let you know just how much he loves and values you. The thought of causing you any hurt had never been his intention, but he had failed in expressing himself clearly.
The team sat aboard the private jet, en route to your destination for a new case that demanded your immediate attention. Three homicides, spread across different cities, all linked by a hauntingly similar MO. The victims shared connections that hinted at a calculated pattern, but local law enforcement had hit a dead end, prompting the call for FBI assistance.
Aaron and you purposefully chose seats away from each other, not wanting to add any awkwardness to the already tense situation. As the team delved further into the case, everyone meticulously examined the evidence within the case files.
You scanned through the disturbing details, striving not to let any grimace betray your inner emotions. Over the years, you had grown accustomed to such gruesome cases that it took an emotional toll on even the most seasoned profilers. Yet, you knew that suppressing your emotions was essential to focus on the task at hand.
“Morgan, Prentiss, and Elle, I want you three to check the latest victim’s crime scene and look for anything new. Reid, JJ, and L/N, I need you to head to the coroner’s office and examine the autopsy reports.” Aaron said, making brief eye contact with you for a second before turning his attention back to the team. “Rossi and I will head to the precinct to talk to the local PD and settle in.”
As soon as the jet landed, you, JJ, and Spencer swiftly made your way to one of the BAU SUVs and drove to the coroner’s office to examine the bodies. You were driving the car, while JJ was in the passenger seat, and Spencer was sitting in the back. You conversed with the other two throughout the entire drive, Spencer spitting his genius facts every now and then.
Once you made it inside, the three of you were greeted by the coroner, who led you to the room where the bodies were laid out. Carefully examining the wounds on the victims, you couldn’t help but notice something intriguing. “They’ve all been stabbed exactly twenty times, each stab in a different part of the body.” You stated, glancing at JJ and Spencer for their input. “This was rage.”
Spencer leaned in, his eyes narrowing with concentration. “The repetitive nature of the stab wounds indicates an intense emotional release, possibly stemming from deep-seated anger or frustration.”
JJ nodded in agreement, her empathy guiding her understanding of the crime scene. “Maybe the unsub had a personal vendetta against the victims, and he was trying to send a message with the way he’s stabbed them.”
Spencer couldn’t help but share one of his characteristic and oddly fascinating facts. “Did you know that throughout history, the number twenty has often been associated with completeness and cycles? It’s interesting that the unsub chose this specific number.”
You raised an eyebrow at him, contemplating the possibility. “Or maybe the number twenty was important to him? It could hold some significance to the unsub, and he chose it to exert control or leave a twisted signature on the victims.”
JJ nodded in agreement, her eyes reflecting the shared curiosity. “It’s definitely not uncommon for unsubs to attach meaning to their actions or rituals. The number twenty might be a representation of something personal or symbolic to him.”
Spencer’s eyes lit up, adding on to you and JJ. “Numerology has been linked to criminal behavior in certain cases. The choice of numbers might reflect the unsub’s belief in its power or its alignment with his twisted motives.”
As you carefully examined the stab wounds on the victims’ lifeless bodies, a particular detail caught your attention. There was an absence of significant bleeding around the wound sites. The wounds appeared uniform in depth and angle, lacking the telltale signs of hemorrhage typically associated with antemortem stabbings.
You turned to the coroner with a furrowed brow. “These stab wounds...they seem different from typical antemortem injuries. Is there any indication that the victims might have been submerged in water before the stabbing?”
The coroner paused, considering your observation. “Well, we did find traces of water in the airways and lungs of all the victims during the autopsies.” The coroner replied. “It’s possible they were drowned before the stabbings occurred.”
“He’s drowning them and then stabbing them?” JJ questioned, her arms crossed against her chest. “What about signs of sexual assault?”
The coroner shook her head. “There were no signs of sexual assault in the report.”
Spencer chimed in, his gaze intense. “It’s possible that this unsub’s violent ritual provides him with a sense of release. The act of drowning the victims may serve as a form of control or domination, followed by the symbolic significance of twenty stabs, and perhaps linked to a personal obsession or fixation.”
You added to Spencer’s insight. “The number twenty might hold significant meaning to him, reinforcing the notion that these killings are deeply personal and methodically planned.”
JJ looked troubled, contemplating the unsettling pattern before you. “If he’s targeting the victims like this, he might have a connection to them. Something in their past could be triggering this cycle of violence.”
You nodded your head, your gaze remaining fixated on the lifeless forms. “Let’s head back and meet with the others.”
The three of you met up with the rest of the team at the precinct, where you all gathered around the crime board, sharing your findings and insights from the investigations. As each detail was added to the board, the case started to take shape, revealing disturbing connections and patterns.
Throughout the meeting, you couldn’t help but sense Aaron’s occasional glances in your direction. Part of you hoped he would approach you and start a conversation, maybe even attempt to mend what was broken between you both. Yet, another part of you felt a tinge of relief that he hadn’t approached you, as facing him would only reopen the wounds that were still raw.
It had only been a week since the painful breakup, and you found yourself torn between wanting to be understood and yearning for his apologies, and the need to protect yourself from further heartache. The longing for him to realize his mistakes, coupled with the desire to put the pieces of your life back together, weighed heavily on your emotions.
You also couldn’t help but miss Jack dearly. Saying goodbye to him before you left had been one of the hardest moments, knowing that he couldn’t fully comprehend the reasons behind your departure. The memories of the mornings you spent with him, preparing breakfast and engaging in playful moments, tugged at your heartstrings. You had cherished those moments, but you knew that staying in an emotionally draining situation wouldn’t be fair to either of you.
At the end of the day, exhaustion weighed heavily on the entire team, the toll of the stressful investigation demanding a much-needed rest. However, they were confident in the amount of evidence gathered, giving them a solid foundation to construct a profile when they regrouped.
Reaching the hotel, the team bid each other farewell, knowing they’d reconvene in the morning to continue the investigation. You let out a weary sigh as you entered your room, eager to collapse onto your bed. Shutting the door behind you, you finally allowed yourself a moment of peace. Without delay, you made your way to the bathroom, seeking to refresh yourself after the intense day.
Emerging from the shower, you felt more relaxed. After brushing your teeth, you slipped into comfortable sleepwear, embracing the coziness that enveloped you.
As you were about to settle into your bed, there was a knock on your door. Confusion washed over you, wondering who could be visiting at this hour. Walking cautiously to the door, you peered through the peephole and let out a soft sigh upon recognizing Aaron’s familiar face.
You opened the door, raising an eyebrow, giving him the signal to speak. His nervous demeanor was uncharacteristic of the stoic Aaron Hotchner, who rarely showed any signs of anxiety.
“Can I come in?” He asked, and a part of you wanted to roll your eyes at his request, but you held back your emotions. Suppressing a disgruntled noise, you opened the door wider, allowing him to enter your room.
Aaron wasted no time, quickly stepping inside as if he feared you might change your mind and shut the door on him. His uneasiness was palpable, and you couldn’t help but wonder what had driven him to seek you out in this vulnerable state.
With the door closed, you faced him, waiting for an explanation as to why he had come to your room at this late hour. “How are you?” He questioned, and you almost scoffed.
“What do you need?” You asked instead, completely ignoring his question.
His heart twinged with pain when he heard your voice, sensing the coldness in your tone, a reflection of the hurt he had caused. Taking a deep breath, he gathered his courage, determined to make things right. “I wanted to apologize for everything. I hated how things ended between us, and if I could turn back time, I would do so in a heartbeat just so I wouldn’t be the one who broke your heart.”
Your arms were crossed protectively over your chest, and he could see the struggle behind your eyes as you fought back tears. The mere week of separation had been agonizing, making him yearn for your presence more than ever. He longed to hold you in his arms again, to kiss you like they had for the past four years. But he understood that he couldn’t expect you to forgive him so easily.
“Jack misses you.” He continued, his voice laced with regret. “He asks for you every day, wondering if you’ll come back. It breaks my heart each time he does.” Your heart ached for the little boy, whom you had grown to cherish as your own. “And I miss you too, more than I can put into words. I’m willing to do anything and everything to fix things.”
Your gaze locked with his, and he saw the emotions swirling within you. “Aaron, I don’t know.” You began, and he felt his heart drop, fearing your answer. “How do I know you won’t do the same thing again? You’re only saying this because you realized what you had after you lost me.”
He shook his head, almost reaching for your hands but stopping himself, respecting the space you needed. “No, that’s not true. I’ve always loved you, Y/N. Yes, I was an absolute idiot, but I’m not just saying this because I realized what I had after I lost you. You mean the world to me, and I love you. If you just let me show you that I won’t make the same mistake ever again. I want everyone to know you’re mine, and it was never my intention to hide you away. I love you, and I’ll do whatever it takes to make things right.” His voice was filled with sincerity, pleading for another chance to prove his love and commitment to you.
You bit your bottom lip, trying to think of what to say. “Aaron, I think I need some time.” You said, truthfully. “I just need some space to figure out what I truly want. Throughout all these years, I’ve longed for you to prioritize us, but it never happened. Maybe I was too naive to believe it ever would.” Taking a deep breath, you closed your eyes, avoiding the pained look on his face. “I love you, too, but I can’t ignore the fact that I wanted you to put me first, instead of this job, and to consider a future together. I wanted to get married, but I don’t think you felt the same.”
He was about to say something, but you held up a finger, needing to continue.
“Honestly, I probably wouldn’t marry myself either.” You confessed softly. “I’ve spent so much time trying to please everyone, especially you. It’s been exhausting, trying to be the perfect girlfriend or even a future wife, when it felt like I was the only one making an effort. I sent you countless signals, hoping you’d notice, but it seemed like you didn’t want to acknowledge the cracks in our relationship.”
You let out a deep breath, relieved to have finally expressed your thoughts that had been brewing for months. Opening your eyes, you looked at Aaron, and his broken appearance tugged at your heartstrings. You longed to turn his frown into a smile, to fix everything, but you knew it wasn’t that simple.
“You’re wrong.” He finally spoke, his voice cracking with emotion. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion, listening intently. “Of course I wanted to marry you.” He continued, his eyes searching yours for understanding. “But I was just too scared.”
“Scared of what?” You asked softly, urging him to open up.
“Of losing you, though it seems like I already did.” He said, a sad chuckle escaping his lips that didn’t reach his eyes. “After Haley, I never thought I would be capable of falling in love again. I had built walls around my heart, convinced it was safer that way. But then you were always there for me and I let myself fall for you, and it scared me.” He paused, gathering his thoughts, and continued. “I couldn’t bear the thought of putting you in danger because of this job, just like I did with Haley and Jack. I blamed myself for her death, and I didn’t want history to repeat itself. That’s why I kept our relationship hidden. I was afraid it would expose you to unnecessary risks.”
Tears welled up in your eyes as you listened to his heartfelt confession. “Aaron.” You said, your voice filled with empathy. “You didn’t have to carry all that burden alone. We could have faced it together.”
He nodded, his eyes filled with remorse. “I know, and I should have trusted us more. But my fear consumed me, and I made a terrible mistake by pushing you away.”
You walked closer and reached out to gently touch his cheek, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your fingertips. “I understand why you did what you did, but it hurt to be kept in the dark. We could have faced those fears together as a team, just like we always do in these cases.”
“I know, and I wish I had the strength to open up to you sooner.” He whispered, leaning into your touch. “I’m so sorry.”
You leaned your forehead against his, savoring the closeness between you. Bringing your free hand to touch his other cheek, you felt his arms wrap around your waist, drawing you even closer to him. “This could have gone so differently if you had opened up to me, Aaron.” You whispered, looking into his eyes with sincerity. “But I still think we need some time apart. Just for a little bit.”
He closed his eyes, absorbing your words, and then nodded his head. “I know, and if that’s what you want, then I won’t oppose it.”
“Okay.” You whispered back, feeling a mix of sadness and hope in your heart. He stepped back, giving you a soft smile, before he turned to walk towards the door. “Wait.” You called out, stopping him in his tracks. He turned around, and without hesitation, you gently cupped his face in your hands and leaned up to kiss him on the lips. It was a tender, lingering kiss, full of unspoken emotions. He held onto your hands, cherishing the brief moments of the kiss, until you finally let go. “Goodnight.” You murmured, your voice tinged with both affection and uncertainty.
He looked dazed, as if he were in some sort of dream, processing the intensity of the moment. He tried his best to speak, finally managing a quiet “Goodnight” before he turned and left your room.
The next day, the team gathered at the precinct, ready to delve into the evidence with fresh eyes after sleeping. However, it was a restless night for both you and Aaron. Sleep seemed elusive as you tossed and turned, your mind consumed with thoughts of everything Aaron had said. Meanwhile, Aaron found himself replaying the kiss you shared before he left, and he couldn’t shake the weight of your words and emotions regarding your relationship and his actions.
After a few hours of relentless effort, Penelope’s expertise paid off, and she managed to uncover a name and address for the unsub. Putting on your bulletproof vests, the team raced to the SUVs, determined to catch the dangerous individual before he could harm anyone else.
Arriving at the address, you were met with an empty house. The unsub was nowhere to be seen, so you scanned the surroundings for any possible clues. Aaron spoke up, his voice firm. “We need to find any leads, any hints on where he might keep his victims.”
The team split up, meticulously combing through the scene, searching for any shred of evidence that could provide a much-needed breakthrough. The tension was palpable, knowing that every moment counted in preventing further tragedy.
As you examined the area, some of the photos on the wall caught your eye. The pictures consisted of different landscapes, however, when you looked more closely, the pictures seemed to be connected despite it being in separate frames. You called the team over and examined the photos, sending them over to Penelope to help find the location.
Penelope’s voice came through on the comms, her excitement evident. “Guys, I think I’ve found something. The pictures seem to be at a park near the house! I’m sending you the address now!”
As soon as you got the address, you raced out of the house and back into the waiting SUVs, speeding towards the destination. Upon arriving at the location, you split into groups. You, Elle, and Emily formed a team, eyes fixed on the abandoned warehouse nearby. Silently, you pointed towards the building, an unspoken agreement passing between you. You slowly and quietly walked, guns at the ready as you approached the structure.
You skillfully maneuvered around the back, while Elle and Emily advanced with their guns and flashlight inside, searching the shadows for any traces of the unsub. As you searched the back and began to think it was clear, you suddenly felt a forceful grip clamp over your mouth, muffling any sound you might have made. Before you could react, a sharp impact hit your head, sending you reeling into temporary darkness.
As you gradually regained consciousness, your surroundings came into focus, and panic washed over you at the sight of the unsub standing before you. Fear pulsed through your veins as you realized you were weaponless and vulnerable. His sinister laughter sent shivers down your spine, and you knew you had to act fast.
His sadistic grin filled you with dread as he taunted you, relishing the power he held over you. Every instinct urged you to escape, but he had already restrained you with a cruel grip, leaving you little room to maneuver. Your heart pounded in your chest, and you desperately scanned your surroundings for any possible means of escape.
As terror surged through your veins, you realized you were next to a lake. The sight of its dark waters filled you with dread, as you knew the unsub intended to use it against you. With adrenaline coursing through your veins, you drew upon every ounce of strength you possessed, mustering a deafening scream in hopes that your team would hear you.
But the unsub was swift as well. Before you could make a move, he forcefully plunged you into the icy water. The coldness was shocking, stealing your breath away as he held you submerged. Panic surged through you as you fought against his unyielding grasp, struggling to resurface for air.
Despite your efforts, he held you down, with no chance of escape. Each time you managed to rise, gasping for breath, he mercilessly forced you back into the depths, determined to drown you just like all the other victims.
As darkness threatened to consume you, your mind raced with thoughts of your team. You wondered if they were close, if they could hear your cries for help, and if they would find you in time. You didn’t even know if they were nearby or if the unsub took you to a different location while you were knocked out. The uncertainty only deepened your desperation, as you clung to the hope that rescue was on its way.
As you struggled to hold on, your strength waned, and you found yourself slipping away, succumbing to the relentless pressure of the unsub’s grip. Helplessly, you surrendered to the suffocating darkness that surrounded you. That’s when a sudden, deafening gunshot pierced the air, tearing through the silence.
In the blink of an eye, the unsub’s hold on you loosened, and you were released from his grasp. He tumbled into the water, gone with a well-aimed bullet through his head. Aaron dropped his gun and leaped into the water without hesitation, desperately reaching for your lifeless form before it could go any deeper.
Emerging from the water’s grasp, Aaron clutched you tightly in his arms as the rest of the team rushed to assist. His heart raced with panic, his mind consumed by the fear of losing you. You were unresponsive, your eyes closed, and the once rhythmic rise and fall of your chest had ceased. Time seemed to stand still as he began chest compressions and performed CPR, his every action fueled by a desperation to revive you.
He had tears streaming down his face and his voice trembled with emotion as he begged you to fight, to come back to him. He refused to accept that this could be the end, that he might lose the person he loved with his entire heart once again. The rest of the team looked on, their hearts heavy with concern, but also filled with hope as they witnessed Aaron’s efforts to bring you back.
Derek kneeled beside Aaron, gripping his shoulders with urgency as he tried to intervene. “Hotch! Stop! Let someone else take over!” He yelled, attempting to divert his attention.
But Aaron was relentless, his focus solely on you. He brushed Derek’s hands aside, determination etched across his face. “I won’t stop until she’s awake.” He declared, resuming his life-saving efforts without a second thought. With every ounce of strength he possessed, he continued to administer CPR.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, you coughed and sputtered, water escaping from your lungs. Gasping for air, you struggled to find your breath. Aaron’s arms enveloped you in a tight embrace, holding you close as you fought to regain your composure.
“Oh, thank God.” Emily breathed, her hand pressed against her chest, relief washing over her after the initial fear.
Aaron released his hold on you, and Derek immediately enveloped you in a tight embrace. “Babygirl, you scared all of us.” He murmured, still feeling shaken by the close call. Elle, not one to be left out, quickly shoved Derek away and hugged you with genuine concern.
“We should’ve never let you go out there by yourself.” Elle expressed, feeling guilty that they had split up. “I’m so sorry.”
Emily, kneeling beside you, placed a reassuring hand on your back. “We should’ve gone together.”
You shook your head, offering a small smile to your caring teammates. “Stop blaming yourselves. It wasn’t your fault. You couldn’t have known what would happen. At least I’m okay now.”
“Yeah, but you were dead for a few minutes.” Emily retorted with a scoff, still grappling with the shock of the situation.
You understood their concern, but you also knew that in their line of work, these moments were unfortunately part of the job. You reassured them. “I’m alright now, thanks to all of you.” And Aaron. You thought. You locked eyes with him, offering a reassuring smile. Though he didn’t return the smile, the glint in his eyes spoke volumes, telling you how grateful he was that you were still alive.
The EMT’s thoroughly checked you over, ensuring there were no other injuries, and concluded that you were fine. You sat at the back of the ambulance, swinging your legs back and forth, absently touching the bandage on your forehead where the unsub had hit you.
As you looked around, you saw the scene filled with law enforcement personnel. The unsub’s lifeless body was being carried away on a gurney, wrapped in a white sheet. A mix of relief and anger washed over you. Relief that he could no longer harm anyone else, and anger that he had taken the easy way out, escaping true justice.
Turning to your right, you noticed Aaron glancing back at you from time to time. Summoning some courage, you raised a hand and waved at him. This time, he smiled. A small yet genuine gesture that warmed your heart. Derek, ever the observant one, caught the interaction and couldn’t help but smirk. Playfully, he nudged Aaron on the shoulder, urging him to talk to you. Aaron, true to his stoic self, gave Derek a brief glare, which only made Derek raise his hands in surrender, laughing as he watched his boss walk away.
Aaron’s voice softened as he spoke, genuine concern in his eyes. “Are you okay? Do you need anything?”
You smiled, appreciating his caring nature. “I’m fine, Aaron.” Patting the spot next to you, you invited him to sit, and he obliged. Turning to face him, you brought your legs up to your chest. “Thank you for saving me.”
He shook his head, gazing up at the sky. “Don’t thank me. I’m just grateful that you’re alive.” His eyes met yours, and you could see the tears welling up. “I should’ve been there to protect you. I shouldn’t have let you go by yourself.”
You reached out to touch his cheek, trying to console him. “It’s not your fault, Aaron. I made the choice to check the back alone while Elle and Emily went inside. The blame lies solely on the unsub. Please, don’t carry that burden on yourself.” As he attempted to hold your hand, you pulled away slightly, causing his heart to ache. You were aware of your team’s eyes on you and didn’t want to fuel any rumors.
“Sorry, they might see us.” You explained.
He scoffed, refusing to let go of your hands. “I don’t care if they see us. It would be a miracle if they didn’t suspect anything. I was going insane while trying to save your life.”
“Aaron–”
“I want everyone to know about us. I don’t care anymore. I’ll do everything in my power to keep you safe, but I will not let you go. You mean everything to me, and I’m sorry for everything.” His voice trembled with emotion. “Seeing you out there, not breathing, holding your lifeless body in my arms...I swear I didn’t know what I was going to do if you were gone. I love you, Y/N. And I will love you until the day I die.”
At his heartfelt words, you couldn’t contain yourself any longer. You pressed your lips firmly against his, cupping his face with your hands. He held onto your hands, responding with passion and intensity. The week had been long and stressful, but with Aaron finally admitting he didn’t care who saw you together, you embraced the moment, cherishing the love you shared with the man you couldn’t imagine living without.
You pulled away slightly, looking deeply into his eyes. “I love you too.”
“Marry me.” Aaron said, his voice filled with sincerity.
The shock registered on your face, mouth agape. “What?” You asked, your heart pounding.
“Okay, this wasn’t the way I planned on proposing to you, but I couldn’t wait anymore.” He chuckled, leaning his forehead against yours. “Will you marry me?”
You raised an eyebrow, playfully teasing. “I don’t see a ring anywhere.”
He rolled his eyes, a soft smile on his lips. “The ring’s hidden in my desk drawer at the office. I was waiting for the right time to propose, but I can’t wait any longer.”
Your eyes softened, and your heart warmed at his sweet gesture. “You bought a ring?”
Aaron nodded, gently kissing your hands. “I told you, I wanted to marry you. I want to marry you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”
Tears welled up in your eyes, but you quickly wiped them away, trying to contain your emotions. “Yes, Aaron Hotchner. I will marry you.” You said, a mixture of excitement and love in your voice.
He grinned, relief and happiness evident in his expression. “You will?” He whispered.
“Yes, a million times yes.” You replied, your heart soaring at the prospect of spending your life with the man you loved.
With that, Aaron pulled you into a tight embrace, his lips meeting yours in a passionate and loving kiss. The world around you faded away, and all that mattered was the promise of a future together, as partners in both love and life.
“Did you guys really think we didn’t know you two were together all this time?” Rossi questioned, a playful glint in his eyes as the team sat together on the jet, heading home after a successful case. “We aren’t profilers for nothing.”
Aaron rolled his eyes, trying to focus on the paperwork spread out on the table. You couldn’t help but chuckle at the lighthearted teasing. Finally feeling content in your life, you leaned back in your seat, feeling the warmth of Aaron’s presence beside you.
“It’s true.” Spencer chimed in with a smile. “We always knew you two were dating, but we didn’t say anything because you thought we didn’t know. It’s pretty funny, considering all the looks you give each other when–”
“Reid.” Aaron interrupted, cutting off the young genius before he could go further. The team stifled a laugh as Spencer mumbled out a quick “Sorry,” a sheepish smile on his face, and returned to his book.
JJ grinned mischievously. “Oh, come on, Hotch. We’ve seen the way you look at Y/N, and the way Y/N looks back.”
Elle nodded, adding her own insight. “Yeah, it was kind of adorable watching you two try to keep it a secret.”
You exchanged a knowing glance with Aaron, feeling a mix of amusement and affection. “Well, I guess we weren’t as subtle as we thought.” You admitted, a smile tugging at your lips.
His lips threatened to curl up into a smile, and you noticed it, playfully bumping your shoulders against his. He tried to maintain his composure, looking away and focusing his attention back on the paperwork, but his mind seemed to betray him as a soft smile tugged at the corners of his lips.
You couldn’t help but feel a surge of happiness at seeing that smile, knowing that you were the one who could bring it out in him. He was the tough and stoic leader to everyone else, but with you, he allowed himself to be vulnerable and open.
The rest of the team had amused grins on their faces, watching the two of you with knowing looks. Their usual boss, who rarely showed any emotion, appeared so content and happy whenever you were around. It was a sight they cherished, seeing the man they respected and admired, smile genuinely because of you.
As the night grew on, everyone on the jet was asleep, but you and Aaron were still awake. You laid your head on Aaron’s shoulder, your hand clasped with one of his, as he continued looking through the paperwork. It was a habit for him to bury himself in work, even during quiet moments like this.
You gently nudged the papers away, and he raised an eyebrow at you. “Stop, you need to sleep.”
“You need to sleep, too.” He whispered, his lips pressing against the top of your head in a tender gesture.
You sighed softly, giving him a determined look. “Okay, but you have to stop this. You can look at these when we get back, but for now, you need rest.”
A playful grin spread across his face, and he leaned forward to capture your lips in a sweet kiss. “Anything for you.”
You gladly kissed him back, feeling a rush of warmth and love for this man. His dedication to his job and his team was commendable, but you also wanted him to take care of himself. He deserved rest and peace, especially after the intense case and the events of the day.
You settled into a comfortable position, still holding each other’s hands, and let the gentle hum of the jet lull you both to sleep. In each other’s arms, you felt a sense of comfort that reassured you, everything had a way of falling into place as it was meant to be.
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strawbeerossi ¡ 1 year ago
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Anger Management
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Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid
Description: You and Spencer broke up months ago over him talking to someone else. Whenever she dies and he’s left to grieve, he likes to take his anger out on you until one day you have enough.
Content/Warnings: Non descriptive break up, mentions of Maeve (I’m a Maeve hater), Spencer is an asshole, Dom!Spencer, office sex, unprotected sex.
Word Count: 1.5K
Kinktober Day Nine: Hate Sex
Navigation || Kinktober Masterlist || AO3
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Spencer had always known that he was a creature of habit after learning the things he liked and disliked. He strayed from trying most new things, nor did he ever spend his time going out of his way to communicate with new people. He enjoyed his simple yet equally complicated existence. 
He had a stable job, he had a home, plus he had a huge combined family with his work colleagues. Besides you. 
Once upon a time, he loved you. The both of you spent every waking moment together at home and at work, enjoying one another’s presence and taking care of one another. Once he met Maeve, that changed though. He’d began to spend his time talking to the woman who he swore up and down was just his doctor who was helping him with his headache problems. 
The more they talked, the more you realized that had to be a bullshit lie. What kind of doctor makes her patients go to a payphone just to have a consultation or to discuss your issues? She felt like it was suspicious. They had secret conversations, things Spencer wouldn’t dare discuss after the fact. If you were honest, it pissed you off.
That was why there was an explosive fight, one where you were deciding on packing up all your shit in the apartment and you were leaving. You didn’t have to sit around and take it so you weren’t going to.
You’d transferred departments for a while after that, knowing the BAU couldn’t be home with your ex boyfriend still there. You’d moved on to Counterterrorism, which was an alright job. Paid the bills, you just preferred where you knew that you belonged.
Going for months without talking to Spencer and having no interest to, you thought you were recovering pretty well.
Until you got a call from Aaron Hotchner. Spencer was on bereavement leave and they were down an agent, which you’d briefly heard the long story of Maeve being stalked and ultimately shot in front of Spencer. He was practically begging you on the phone to come back, long enough for them to be fully staffed so cases could be solved timely and efficiently.
Which you did. It ended up with you putting in a transfer to come back to the BAU. Things went downhill after that though. Spencer was still going through the stages of grief and most of the issues and hard feelings he felt were taken out on you. He’d make sly and shitty comments regularly, things you did your best to ignore. He was grieving, it didn’t make it okay but you really did try to cut him some slack. The things he said were deep cuts, insulting your intelligence at times just to see if he could elicit a reaction.
That wasn’t the Spencer you knew, the Spencer that you loved. You just assumed that version of him was dead and buried along with Maeve. 
Today wasn’t a day to bother you though. After weeks of suffering from verbal abuse, you were tired of it. You’d woken up in a bad mood as is that morning, dreading what was to come the minute that you walked into the bullpen. A mood that Derek would jokingly say was because you just woke up on the wrong side of the bed. 
With the desk setups, it was no surprise your desk was across from Spencer’s, how lucky could you possibly be? You were looking through the stack of files you desperately needed to sort through when Spencer came in. Joy.
“You know, if you actually made forth an effort to do your job when it needs to be done, you wouldn’t have the pile of work you need to blow through.” He was getting started early, placing his satchel on the underside of his desk while retrieving a book. 
Without missing a beat, you picked up at least four of the files and tossed them carelessly onto his desk. “Then fucking help lighten the load since you are so concerned about it.” You snapped, which caught Spencer by surprise. You’ve been a quiet punching bag since he got back but here you were, snapping at him. That only fueled his fire.
“I’m not concerned about it, I’m giving you advice.” He had his own attitude while picking up the files before throwing them back to your desk. “I think you need to stop being so sensitive. It’s not a good look for you. I’m offering you advice.”
“No. You’re being an asshole and I’m getting tired of you taking every ounce of anger out on me! Who the fuck do you think you are?” You asked, hands slamming on your desk while you were pushing yourself to stand. The commotion had garnered the attention of every other agent in the bullpen, even Aaron and Dave watching from the windows of their office. You knew you’d be embarrassed later but you felt so good right now for standing up for yourself. As you stormed out of the heavy glass doors, everyone turned their attention to Spencer, who was in a stunned silence. “I’ll go talk to her.” He cleared his throat. He felt rage festering inside of him after that little display, however he kept himself grounded as he was heading out of the bullpen in search of you.
He eventually found you in one of the vacant offices, a frown on his face as he was quickly stepping inside and closing the door. “That was ridiculous.” He wasn’t here to apologize, only here to argue even more. “No, it wasn’t. I hope that I humiliated you infront of every agent in that room.” Venom dripped from your tone as you turned to face him, face red from anger. “I’m so sick of your bullshit. You think just because you lost someone that you have a right to make my life a living hell?” You asked, stepping closer to jab your finger into his chest. “Because you don’t. I’m sorry that whatever her name is died, I truly am. I’m tired of giving you a pass because I feel bad for you!” You spat.
That was the final straw for Spencer as he backed you up against the nearest wall of the office. “I knew you would try and bring her up into this!” He scoffed, both of you staring at each other in a tense silence. Within a flash, your hands were tangled in Spencer's hair while he was slamming his mouth into yours, the frustration and anger all melting into the kiss as he had you pinned to the wall behind you. “I’m so fucking sick of your mouth.” You murmured against his lips and made Spencer grunt. “Like I’m not tired of your bullshit.” He murmured, his hands quickly working on the buttons of your pants while working on tugging them down. 
The haste was returned as you were working on his belt before tossing it somewhere in the room while tugging down the pants hugging his waist. The kiss was abruptly cut off as he was flipping you around, your body now facing the wall. It was for the best that you didn’t look at him, moreso because he’d pissed you off so much that you just wanted to use him for your own relief. You deserved this, even if he didn’t. He had a similar sentiment, your panties being pulled to your mid thighs. 
The thick tip of his cock was breaching your sex without warning, mouth falling open while you were letting your forehead rest against the wall, mouth agape as his thick cock was bottoming out. “Oh, my fucking god.” 
There was no time to waste, the large hands resting against your waist while his thick cock was pistoning inside of your tight cunt, a bruising grip keeping you in place. “Fuck. How does it feel to be a useless hole? Lord knows that nobody ever wants your fucking input or opinions.” His words were low, hips roughly snapping into yours as the echo of your skin smacking together filled the empty office. 
“Spencer-” You began before one of his hands was over your mouth, muffling any attempt for you to speak. “Shut up.” He growled. You both had issues together but this encounter really symbolized that. Spencer used to be slow and sweet, hardly ever cursing or telling you some of the filthy things that had been falling from his lips. A moan was muffled against his hand while his eyes fluttered shut.
“Gonna cum. You’re gonna take everything that I give you.” His lips were against the shell of your ear, the words making your mouth fall open. With a few more thrusts, it wasn’t long until his spent was gushing deep inside of you, the feeling causing you to hit your own release shortly after. 
Instead of getting the treatment that you were used to, he was pulling out of you and pulling up his boxers and pants. “Might wanna clean yourself up.” He commented, fluffing out his hair while walking to the closed office door. 
The last thing you heard was the door open and the footsteps out of the room followed by a slam of the door. 
That was one way to get over an argument.
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finelinevogue ¡ 2 months ago
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january fic rec
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⭐️ = favs || * = +18 mature
this months fic rec list contains:
harry styles • aaron hotchner • azriel
harry styles
grapes - @harrysfolklore
harry won’t let his girlfriend break her new years tradition
aaron hotchner
unspoken, unheard - @writing-the-stars
In the midst of a high-stakes case, you face the terrifying task of being bait for a dangerous unsub. As the mission spirals out of control, the unacknowledged bond between you and Hotch is tested, forcing him to confront the risks of letting his heart lead in a world where vulnerability could mean losing everything
family first - @hoe4hotchner
reader, a BAU member, is on maternity leave after she and Aaron just had a baby? One day, she goes to the office to bring their daughter to visit Aaron, only to find him in the bullpen with the agent who replaced her while she’s been on leave. The replacement has a crush on Aaron and doesn’t know that he’s married to the reader. The replacement becomes jealous when she sees how much attention Aaron is giving their daughter and confronts the reader, but Aaron gets angry and ends up firing her.
safe and sound -
Hotch x wife!reader where jack is about 6 months old but she’s still constantly checking his breathing at naps and bedtime and waking up all the time she check him and is super conscious. Hotch thought at first it’s just a new mom thing but now you’re losing sleep and worried all the time so he brings it up one night and she just breaks down and says “I never know if you’re coming home to me so I need to make sure jack is ok so I always have a piece of you with me”
⭐️ the wedding photos - @luveline
Aaron sets the record straight when an overheard conversation convinces you that you’re not good enough for him
undercover - @luvvyouforever
in the middle of a case, your worst fear comes true. you have to go on an a date with aaron hotchner, the boss you've been crushing on for months.
⭐️ the hotchner’s - @ssahotchnerr
Aaron and reader who are married, react to both being called ‘Agent Hotchner’ and they both answer
sleepover - @moonlightspencie
Hotch wants the reader, but doesn’t know how to tell her. Maybe a night in will be of some assistance.
pb&j and hostage negotiation - @ssahotchnerr
you’re at a soccer game with aaron & jack and are slightly jealous of how the soccer moms are eyeing up aaron
⭐️ hunter, hunted - @ssahotchhner
you are arrested for a murder, but you didn’t do it. the team have to help you clear your name
dirty laundry - @hoe4hotchner
HotchxReader in a established relationship scenario with a healthy relationship after a toxic one
sweater thief - @lavenderspence
You’ve always loved wearing Aaron’s quarter zip, especially when he is away on a case. But he also loves coming home and seeing you in it
azriel
*slow burn - @assassinsblade
After a mission in Illyria, you find yourself drugged with some sort of aphrodisiacal breeding tonic. With Azriel seemingly interested in Elain, who can keep you from enduring a torturous night of pain?
*the hand that holds - @velarisdusk
You and Azriel visit a bakery in Velaris, but tension rises when your ex-boyfriend tries to provoke him
⭐️ in the face of your love - @azrielbrainrot
A love confession wasn't in Azriel's plans for the day
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perpetuallyconfused10 ¡ 2 years ago
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Im the one who asked about requests lol, I just have this Hotch thought and I can't stop thinking about it 🫂😭
Imagine Garcia "screaming" about a video, telling the whole team about it (except Hotch and Reader), and that video is on tiktok. When they spill something about the video, Hotch and Reader ask which video they're referring to, not knowing it's from a tiktok account where the person makes videos on Hotch x Reader (like edits taken from some interview where they look at each other, slightly touches and things like that) and it's a whole profile with a lot of videos like that! So the whole team teases them and they obviously like eachother!!
Feel free to change anything!!
Gone Viral, Gone Wrong
Thank you to this anon for submitting my first request! I might have written it (and especially Hotch) be a little (way) too sappy, but I love your idea so much and I hope I did it some type of justice! WC: 3.3K
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GIF by ssa-aaron-hotch-hotchner
There must be something on your face. Toothpaste, maybe, or coffee on your shirt, or a tear in your trousers. Something to explain the numerous pairs of eyes following you as you dash for the elevator, just as you always do. 
This morning’s been one for the books. Between a text from your highschool ex-boyfriend, congratulating you on your ‘newfound fame’ — whatever he means by that, you don’t know — and the incomprehensibly slurred voicemails you woke up to from your sister, you aren’t quite sure what to do with yourself.
You tell yourself you’re probably imagining it. But Anderson doesn’t say a word to you as you both make your way to the BAU, just casts you sidelong glances between the rapid texts he’s sending. You hope to God it’s not you, that he's just having an awful morning, then scold yourself for it. If you’re not off to a good start, at least somebody should be.
It’s the silence in the bullpen that confirms your suspicions. Emily, JJ, and Garcia sit huddled around Emily’s computer, squeezed onto two chairs they’ve pulled together. Morgan leans over them to look at the screen. He’s in the middle of laughing at something Garcia’s said when you walk in. 
You don’t even need Reid’s not-so-subtle hiss of “Guys–” to know you’re not going crazy. The smirks that drop from their faces, the giggles that extinguish themselves as you enter through the double doors, are more than enough. 
Four profilers and a technical analyst, as it turns out, can be rather terrifying when the force of their stares are directed at you. 
A sheepish grin tugs at your lips as you hold up your peace offering: a tray of coffee. “Hi?”
You’ve come to know how the team works. You know exactly how they react when ambushed, how they spring to action like a well-oiled machine.
There’s something a little mechanical to them now, bared in their responses to your arrival. After giving you one of his usual tight-lipped smiles, Reid flips open a random file on his desk and begins to read. JJ grabs the computer mouse, clicks a few times, and turns away from the monitor to greet you. Morgan clocks the drinks in your hands and conjures a grin just a little wider than normal. 
“Morning, sunshine,” he says as he plucks the tray from your hands, thanking you with a squeeze to your forearm. 
Garcia, eyeing the gesture, nearly chokes on the end of the pen she’s chewing. She stands to usher you over to your desk, her chirpy voice a balm attempting to smooth over what has been a very odd start to your working day. 
“What were you guys looking at?” You ask her, eyebrows raised. If anyone’s going to tell you what’s going on, Penelope is, without a doubt, most likely to spill.
You’re disappointed – and even more confused – when she stands her ground. Through her ramble, you just about make out the words “cat” and “spa” before she’s kissing your cheek and speeding away to your lair. 
You sigh as you switch on your own computer. One thing is clear. The team doesn’t like to be ambushed. And, somehow, that is exactly what you have done. 
—
After finishing off one of your consults, you suffer through a morning briefing that ends up being far more complicated than it needs to be. It’s only a paperwork day, by the looks of things. In theory, this is the ‘easiest’ your job gets; if you’re not called out on an emergency, you can bank on a day of case reports and shitty coffee. 
Nothing is ever easy at the BAU, not even now. Everything is out of order. There’s none of the usual idle chatter that precedes a briefing, just a fragile silence. Rossi moves from his normal position to take your place between Reid and JJ. He mutters something about the chair being uncomfortable and shoos you away from your seat. Though you can’t resist the opportunity to call him an old man for his pedantics, you acquiesce and take his spot instead. You find nothing wrong with it. 
Then Hotch walks in to start the briefing, and you find about a hundred reasons to curse David Rossi. He’s wearing the gray suit, again, the one he likes pairing with his red tie. That should be a crime in itself. When he takes the only seat available — his usual seat, the one now next to you — you’re almost sure you hear JJ snort. Emily pats her on the back as she conceals it with a very unconvincing cough.
Hotch frowns in your direction, probably mulling over the change in seating plan, then turns his attention to JJ. “Are you alright?”
The blonde clears her throat. “Fine. Thanks, Hotch,” she says. 
Garcia rests her elbows on the table, her mouth concealed by the palm of her hand. 
Hotch nods, casting another short glance your way. “Good.”
Then he launches into the briefing, and you can almost convince yourself things are perfectly normal, that your face isn’t alight with heat and you’re not avoiding looking at him, that everything is fine. When you’re dismissed, you scurry towards the door fast enough you almost miss it. 
“Garcia?” His voice is quiet, his tone soft with something disapproving hiding beneath it. “My office, please.”
Everything is decidedly not fine. 
—
By noon, you can’t take it anymore. “Emily Prentiss, what the fuck are you doing?”
The question comes out louder and more harshly than you’d intended. In your peripheral vision, you see Reid’s eyes widen at the desk next to yours. Emily, halfway through a sandwich, freezes. 
“I’m sorry?”
The grin fades from her face. 
You huff. “You’ve been looking between me and your computer for the last half-hour. What is it? Is there something on my face?” Morgan laughs from the other side of the bullpen, and you raise your voice a little in desperation. “Seriously. Have I done something wrong?”
JJ must have heard the commotion, because she pokes her head out of her office door. She takes one look at you and sighs. “Probably best to get it over with, Em.”
When Emily hesitates, your eyes narrow. “Get what over with?”
She stands and beckons you over to her desk, firing up her computer screen as you settle into her chair. JJ comes down the stairs to join you. Though they don’t move, you can practically feel Morgan and Reid staring at the three of you from across the room. 
What you see projected on Emily’s screen doesn’t make things any clearer.
“That’s—” you pause, dumbfounded. “Why are you looking at me and Hotch?”
The picture is easy to place. It must have been taken a few days ago, during a small-town case. Hotch had asked you to deliver a profile to the media when JJ was working on something else. It was far from the first time you’d faced the press head-on during your time at the Bureau, but Hotch had stood by your side anyway. 
You’re not sure why she’s chosen this photo, if any, to look at. The wind’s blowing your hair into your face, and you’re midway through changing expressions so it almost looks like you’re in pain. 
“Just watch,” Emily says. She presses the spacebar and the picture bursts into action.
—
“—If you believe you have any information that may relate to this case, we’d appreciate you calling the following number…” you say. You proceed to rattle off the number for the tip line JJ’s set up, but only get halfway through before everything derails. 
“How do we know this isn’t all just bullshit?” 
The voice overpowering yours is weathered, and so is the man who pushes through the crowd of journalists to get close to you and Hotch, whose posture you see straighten in an instant. You watch as the reporters from the city turn to look at the interloper, pens out and waiting, no doubt, for either you or your boss to slip up.
For a long moment, Hotch watches the man, his face twisted in irritation. He merely restates the tip line number and your request for any potential witnesses to come forward.
But the skeptic doesn’t let up. “This guy’s an outsider. Not one of us. Everyone here knows each other, they have done for years—”
“We’re not trying to cause a panic,” you say, your tone even, “We don’t want you all to turn on each other. But the man we’re looking for knows this town. He’s confident finding his way around the forest, even the areas that haven’t been mapped out yet. He knows the shortcuts, which roads are quiet and which are too risky to take. We’re asking you to exercise caution, and to report anything suspicious if you see it.”
“So what? A few pins on a map and you’re convinced it’s one of us?”
Hotch’s jaw tightens. This case has been harder on him than most, and you can sense that he’s on the verge of responding in a way he’ll regret later. You put a hand on his forearm as he raises it to retort, squeezing it gently in the hopes he’ll get the signal you really don’t have the seniority to be sending him: stand down. He takes a deep breath, and you let your hand slide down to meet his wrist, guiding it just a fraction backwards to rest by his side. The contact lasts only a second, maybe two, before you let him be. 
When he finally speaks, his voice is measured, his eyes slow to drag themselves from your face. “We’re not here to defend the science behind criminal profiling. Our priorities remain finding the person responsible for these crimes and the safety of this community until we do. If you have any information at all, please don’t hesitate to contact us. We appreciate your cooperation.”
Even the most amateur journalist would know he’s done answering questions. Hotch gives a brief nod, turns and leads you out of the Georgia heat and back into shelter of the precinct. All the time, his hand hovers over your back, his gaze searching for any potential disruptions. 
Then there’s his voice, deep and almost inaudible. You feel his breath brush your earlobe. “Thank you.”
—
Oh. 
Now you’re looking at it from an outsider’s perspective, you do look a little…cozy with Hotch. Not enough to walk the line of unprofessionalism, but enough for you to notice it. 
Emily folds her arms, leans back in her chair. “What’s that about?”
Avoiding her eyes, you shrug. “What’s what about?”
“The canoodling,” JJ says with a smirk, and you slap her arm. 
You’re a profiler. You should know your little attempt at denial isn’t going to work, but it doesn’t stop you from trying. “Canoodling? Seriously, Jen? I don’t think anyone under the age of eighty has ever said the word ‘canoodling’.”
You hear Penelope’s kitten heels clacking against the floorboards before you see her. “Doesn’t mean you’re not doing it,” she sings. Her arms wrap around your shoulders from behind.
You groan. “Penny, you know I love you, but what are you doing here?”
“I got lonely,” she says, and her expression is so genuine that you can’t even bring yourself to be upset with her. “Just wait…”
Leaning over you to press the escape button, she exits out of full screen mode and points to the corner of the screen. When you read the number she’s showing you, your breakfast threatens to make a reappearance.
“Would you look at that?” Emily laughs. “It’s gone up.”
You blink. Once, twice, three times. And once more, for good measure. “Six-hundred-and-fifty thousand people have seen that?”
It all starts to make sense. The texts, the calls, the stares, the team’s behavior…you don’t know whether to be relieved or horrified. On the bright side, you’ve done nothing wrong, nothing that could get you fired. But more than half a million people have seen you practically mooning over your boss.
Emily makes a noncommittal noise. “Half of them were probably Garcia. And a good twenty-five or so were us, if that helps.”
“It doesn’t,” You resist the urge to slam your head against the desk. You’ll have to settle for burying it in your hands instead. “Six hundred and…fuck. And they all think–?”
“—That you’re in love with our boss? And that he’s in love with you? Yes.”
“Oh, fuck.” “They think that, too,” says JJ, sounding sympathetic. If it weren’t for the frankly dastardly smile on her face, you’d think she was on your side.
Picturing the general population witnessing you make an idiot of yourself is bad enough. How do you even conceptualize that many people? How many stadiums could you fill solely with people who have seen you head over heels for your boss? Even worse is the thought of Anderson, or your parents, or – God forbid – even Strauss having seen it. You’ll be suspended. Fired. Or, even worse, be called into a mediated meeting with Hotch and HR, where they’ll ask him if you’ve been making him feel uncomfortable. 
Emily’s voice pulls you from your shame spiral. “And there’s more, too.”
This world hates you. You’re certain of that as she opens Twitter, putting “FBI agents” into the search bar and bombarding you with hundreds, maybe thousands, of tweets with your image attached. Some are disturbingly sweet. Others poke fun at how obvious you are, and even more disturbingly, seem to think your feelings are reciprocated. That’s not a mental path you can allow yourself to go down. 
“So…” You say after a long ten minutes. “What do we do?”
Footsteps, then Rossi appears at the stop of the stairs. “You go back to work. Your break’s over.”
He’s lucky you’re so fond of him. Had it been anyone else (save maybe one person) to disrupt your shame spiral, you’d have been furious. More than furious. You’re still a little irritated now.
There was nothing wrong with his fucking chair. 
—
Your mission is simple. Avoid. Deny. Deflect. The rest of your afternoon drags along in a blur of paperwork and teasing comments you choose to ignore (mostly courtesy of Morgan — JJ and Emily have decided you’re nearing your breaking point and vow to leave you alone). 
Five o’clock can’t come soon enough. Even when it does, there’s no reprieve. Reid turns out to be the one to betray you as everyone else packs up to leave, their files in his hand. “Sorry,” he whispers. To his credit, he looks like he means it.
“Judas,” you hiss back, but you stand and take the reports from him anyway. 
Morgan raises an eyebrow at you. “Going somewhere special?” 
You flip him off, muttering something under your breath that sounds just a little like “your funeral”. 
The stairs to Hotch’s office feel much longer and much steeper than usual. At every step you reconsider. Reid’s probably still heading for the elevator now. If you catch him, you can guilt him into doing this instead. But your thoughts carry you close enough for Hotch to spot your approach through the blinds. He rises from his desk, opening the door before you can even reach for the handle. 
You can’t even look him in the eyes. “Hi.”
Stepping aside to let you inside, he says your name, and it sounds so warm coming from his mouth. You wonder if he knows about your newfound fame, too. He seems to be focusing his stare directly between your eyebrows. 
“I just came to drop these off.” 
As if your words aren’t explanation enough, you hold up the files for him to see.
“Thank you.” Hotch reaches out to take them, and you feel his fingers brush yours as he does. He stops before the exchange is over. “Are you alright? You seem distracted.”
It won’t be long now before the sun sets. It’s making its final play for glory now, golden light filtering through the window and settling over Hotch’s face. Hints of amber tones surface in his eyes, usually so dark and unreadable, making him appear much softer than usual. Safer.
You sigh. “I think some people got a little more out of that press release in Georgia than we intended them to.”
“Oh. Yes.”
“You know about that?”
You wouldn’t half mind if a wormhole opened up, right there in his office, and transported you to another universe where you don’t even have to think about this moment ever again.
“I do.” He winces. “Garcia’s computer system is the most secure in the FBI, but she doesn’t have an inside voice.”
The dry comment shocks a laugh out of you. “No, she doesn’t. But…it’ll die down, right? No one is actually going to believe that. Us being together would be—”
“Unprofessional,” Hotch supplies after a beat. “Very unprofessional.”
He reaches backwards to put the files you’ve given him on his desk, somehow managing to do so without actually taking a step away from you. If anything, he gets a little closer. 
“Exactly. Strauss would kill us if we even thought about it,” you say, “Not that we would, I’m just…”
Now he looks down at you, straight into your eyes. You swear his pupils are dilated, that he slips for just a half-second and lets his attention drift down to your lips. “There’d be a lot of paperwork.”
You nod. “Too much, really. You’ve got enough already. It’d also be…”
“…Nice.”
Hotch stops breathing, lips downturned in a frown. You’re sure you’ve heard him wrong. But half a minute passes, and he doesn’t retract his statement, though he looks as if he’s close to doing so.
“I’m sorry?” Your voice is barely above a whisper. He’s close enough you catch a hint of his cologne, and the woody scent of it makes your head spin. 
“I can say it again,” he says through a long exhale, searching your face for any sign of discomfort as he takes another step closer. His breath ghosts your neck. “Or we can forget this ever happened.”
Your answer is almost immediate. “Let’s not do that.”
Hotch tilts your chin up so you’re forced to look at him. You lean upwards to meet him halfway in a kiss that is soft and tentative, the sort that promises everything and asks for nothing in return. One of your hands cups his jaw, and both of his find their way home to your waist, rubbing circles into your skin through your shirt. You smile against his lips. He leans forward as if to chase yours when you pull away.  It hits you, now, that this is really happening. The months you've been agonizing over this - whether to make a move or to shut the part of you that cares for him away - have led you here. There's much you've got to think over: what this means for both of your careers, the risk to the team's dynamic, whether it'll even work in the long run, if Hotch wants that too. You know he's thinking the same thing; his face adopts the same mask of concentration it always does when he's considering something. You take a deep breath. It might be hard, but does that stop it from being worth a shot? In the end, you don't think it does.
“I think I’m gonna order takeout tonight,” you say quietly. “There’s a really good Thai place down the street from me.”
Hotch clears his throat. “That sounds nice.”
Shaking your head, you rest both hands on his shoulders, laugh at him. “That was my way of asking you if you wanted to join me.”
“Oh.” 
His brow furrows. For a terrible moment, you think he’s about to say no. And then, “Haley has Jack tonight. I…I’d like that.”
You beam, pull back, and head towards his desk to find a pen and a scrap bit of paper. “Here’s my address.” A quick glance down into the bullpen, which is thankfully empty. “Give it ten minutes, then follow me?”
“Okay,” Hotch says. Even you can tell he’s grinning like an idiot, and you make a note of the rare expression. “Okay. I’ll see you soon?”
Squeezing his hand, you kiss his cheek and walk towards the door. “Soon.”
You feel his eyes on you until you reach the elevator.
If you got this far, thank you for reading! I've watched a lot more Dharma and Greg than CM, lately, so I have a feeling that my version of soft!Hotch is currently just a grownup version of Greg Montmgomery????
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