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chithereader · 2 months ago

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playing it cool / aaron hotchner

[credits to the owners of these photos!!]

word count: 1.9k

pairing: aaron hotchner x f!reader

genre: fluff!!!!!!

cw: sickeningly sweet and soft aaron x reader, so much of aaron’s thoughts because we know that man thinks soo much more than he speaks!!

a/n: hiiii this is my third post so far and tbh i was so nervous to post the first two as that was my first time ever posting any of my writings anywhere!! but i’ve been getting so much more love on those than expected and i just really wanted to say thank you so much for all the likes and reblogs <33 i was honestly only expecting less than 10 notes as a newbie and reaching up to 200 is so so so wonderful. and especially for the love of hotch i– ugh!!!!! i already love u all

The team had worked a straight 5 weeks worth of cases prior, which had warranted Strauss to grant them all a mandatory 3-day rest. This simply meant that for 3 whole days there are no cases, no deadlines, and no new case files. They could come to the office at whatever time they’d like as long as they finished some reports at the end of the day.

Aaron being Hotch the boss man still aimed to arrive at the office at a reasonable time– 7:30am. To be fair, this is an hour and a half later than when he usually arrives at the office. And in his mind, the earlier he arrives, the more he can get done, and the more he gets done, the earlier he can come home.

This is the only reason why he is up at 6:00am on a supposed rest day. He did expect that he’d struggle a bit more to drag himself out of bed, knowing you’d be keeping him hostage with limbs that wrap around him in ways he can’t begin to understand, but to his surprise, you weren’t there.

Dragging his feet across the carpeted floor, his pajama pants hanging low on his hips and white shirt fitting him oh-so-snugly, he tries to find you. He’s rubbing the sleep of his eyes as he peeks his head into your shared bathroom. No sign of you.

He’s covering his mouth as he yawns when he quietly opens the door to Jack’s bedroom–still no sign of you. Remembering his son has been nursing a stomach bug since yesterday, he opened the door further to check on him. No fever. No chills. No sign of discomfort.

When he’s sure Jack’s okay, he turns around to go back to find where you went. He even checked the backyard as he passed by a window to see if you’re at your favorite swing reading, that perhaps you just woke up early and wanted to feel the morning sun because you claimed it lightens you.

He smiles a little to himself as he treads downstairs, finally hearing your soft murmurs as you spoke with someone presumably over the phone. As he neared the kitchen he realized that the person on the line was your colleague and friend Tilly, and that she was on speaker phone making it easy to listen in.

He slows down his steps as he nears the landing and pauses when he gets behind a wall near the kitchen. He doesn’t know what came over him. He doesn’t usually sneak around to eavesdrop, nor did he ever feel the need to especially when it came to you. You tell him everything, prompted and unprompted.

But perhaps it was the haze of the morning or the curiosity of what could possibly get you out of bed this early when you’re usually the one snoozing away as he’s getting ready for work– he stayed quiet behind that wall and made it his mission to understand the conversation.

He clears his mind and strains his ear, going as far as making his breaths slow and far apart.

He hears Tilly giggling, “Don’t get me wrong, Adam from Finance is really cute but.. isn’t he just a little too serious? He’s always got that frown going on.”

You sigh a little loudly, obvious that it’s a sigh to humor and not of exasperation, “Tilly, you know I love you, but every day you complain about being single. And every other day there’s a decent guy who you always always find that one flaw in that just crosses them off for you forever.” Tilly lets out a sound that’s a mixture of a laugh and a gasp.

“That is so not tr–” “Oh, Hugh’s just too clean. And Frederick’s too hard, it’s like- scary. Yes, veiny hands are hot but there’s veiny and too veiny, and Jason was just a double too veiny.”

Aaron momentarily pauses his listening and looks down at his hands, suddenly conscious where he fit in that category. Factoring in his age, his work, and the action he gets from the field– these all show. He tried thinking of a time you could’ve shown any dislike or disgust towards his hands but all he could think of was that one night when he cupped your face and you leaned towards it more, turning slightly to take his thumb into your mou–

He’s shaken out of his thoughts when he hears Tilly asking about you leaving, “What time are you getting to the office by the way? I just don’t want to get there without you. Adam might ask about that second date and I just need you as my bluff, my beautiful girl.” He makes a mental note to message Jessica before you both get ready for work.

“Riiiight. Remind me how many guys have I scared off for you now? And how many times have I helped you scare them off? Besides, I can’t go today and I’ve already told Bobby I’m on leave.”

In a slight surprise and panic Tilly whines, “What?! Why? You’re such a traitor. You know damn well I get so bored without you.” Aaron didn’t even know you were planning on staying home. You hadn’t mentioned anything about it last night which made him even more curious what made you decide.

He hears your soft laugh, “Don’t be so dramatic. You’ll manage a day without me. I mean you have to– my son caught a stomach bug yesterday so I just want to make sure he’ll recover completely.”

Aaron can hear Tilly responding, something about soup and warm baths, but his heart has just stopped so he’s not really processing any new words at the moment.

My son. My son. My son. My son caught a stomach bug.

He feels lightheaded. His heart kickstarts again, his pulse is ringing in his ear. He can feel his chest pounding to his heart’s beat. The words that rolled off your lips so effortlessly, so mindlessly, echoes in his head.

Jack may be young but he is smart. So so smart beyond his years. And he has grown to understand what had happened to his mom Haley, but not once has he– and even you allowed Jack to forget who Haley is and how much she loves him.

Images of you joining in their traditions of honoring and remembering Haley plays in his head in flashes. You helping Jack arrange a bouquet for Haley’s death anniversary. You helping Jack make a card for her birthday. You mixing the paint to get the right shades as Jack paints a portrait of Haley for his Mothers’ Day homework.

Aaron had told you everything there was to know about Haley and you’ve listened. He knows you adore her. You adore her for the same reasons he adored her. You understood the space Haley had in his life and in Jack’s life, and not once were you ever jealous, immature, or selfish about it. Even though he would’ve completely understood if you were.

You were nothing but supportive, and understanding, and loving. Even when he didn’t deserve it. Even when you deserved better. Admittedly, there was a point in time when he struggled with coming to terms with falling in love– with you nonetheless. You’re young, ambitious, brilliant, talented, insanely beautiful, and unfairly kind.

When the two of you had met, this was his profile: divorced with a kid, recovering from trauma that stemmed from being stabbed multiple times in his own home, emotionally unavailable, annoyingly serious and fatally dull– which really makes him wonder what made you fall in love with him in the first place, and even more so what made you stay even when he was bafflingly dense about how you felt about him.

He didn’t know how long he was standing there, like a deer caught in headlights. Replaying your words and his memories over and over again, slowly coming to the conclusion that you’re absolutely perfect and he’s absolutely gone for you.

Slowly coming to his senses, Aaron becomes more aware of the silence. The call must have ended while he was having realizations about things. He rounds the corner silently, getting a feel of where you’re facing. Luckily he guesses right, that you’re facing away from him.

You were rummaging through the fridge– the vegetable drawer if he had to guess, judging by how much you’re slouching and reaching, and the sound of the glass containers you use to prolong their freshness.

He quickly surveys the scene- your phone is on the counter, beside it is a chopping board with carrots and onions, a carton of chicken broth, Jack’s favorite dinosaur-shaped pasta, and chocolate milk– the one drink you both know can make Jack feel instantly better, happier.

His heart pinches again. You got up early to make sure Jack had something to eat for breakfast in time for his medicine. You got up early even though you aren’t planning on going to work. You aren’t going to work because you want to stay with Jack. You called Jack your son.

With so many things running in his head, he stands quietly observing you finding god knows whatever vegetable. Maybe it's the intensity of his stare or the volume of his thoughts, or maybe he started to breathe loudly– but suddenly you knew he was there. He could tell.

You slowly straightened your back from when you were leaning. Your hands have stopped rummaging through the drawer, and he could see the goosebumps on your legs and shoulders from the way the sunlight hits you through the kitchen window.

You turn around slowly, as if you were just caught doing something you aren’t supposed to be doing, “I’m so sorry, did I wake you?” grimacing as if it was a crime to be hot and cute and gut-wrenchingly-sweet.

“No.” His voice is groggy. Deep and rough given that he just woke up minutes ago and hasn’t really used it since. Looking at you through studying eyes, he clears his throat “Uhm, I woke up to get ready for work and you weren’t there.”

Aaron suddenly feels a little cold. The thin material of his shirt and pajamas doing little to contain what warmth he has left in his body. Or maybe it’s you, maybe his body has sensed that you’re near and is now craving your warmth, making him feel a magnified amount of its absence.

“Oh.. I’m sorry I just wanted to get ahead of cooking so Jack can have soup before he takes his medicine at 8 and since I was also planning to do some work though I’m on leave, it just made sense to get an early start…” You slow your words, noticing how Hotch is studying you tenfold in the moment, as if you were an apparition, “Are you okay? Did you want soup too? I can pack you some before you go?”

His silence makes you panic a little. You can’t really tell if he’s upset about something or if he’s sleepwalking, “Or you can eat here. I mean– you live here, of course you can eat here. I mean like instead of bringing it to the office– not that if you eat here, you can’t bring some anymore.”

The longer he stays silent, adoring you, the more you scramble to fill the silence, “I’m just– you know you can do whatever you want. You can eat here, there, anywhere. Unless you don’t want soup. I mean we still have leftover steak, I cou–”

You pause your rambling because you can see a smile starting to form on his face. A real, big smile. Laugh lines and dimples and all, which makes you smile. Realizing how stupid you were sounding and how funny the situation was becoming, you started giggling.

And just as you think he’s about to join the laughter to make fun of you, his smile softens and he says, “Marry me.”

part 2 here!!!!!

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rainydayathogwarts · 7 months ago

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The team discovers you're dating - Aaron Hotchner

d/n: daughter's name.. Summary: The team discovers you're dating because of Jack's freudian slip. (singlemom!bau!reader) 0.7k wc

Small trudging footsteps paired with loud squeals caught the attention of the agents in the bullpen, an apologetic SSA following after his son. Derek and Penelope raced to the young boy, Derek scooping him up the second he was close enough, beating his work wife by seconds. "I'm sorry guys, national holiday and our sitter cancelled." The team dismissed him, understanding of his protectiveness over his son. After seeing so many cases, there was no way he'd let a random person look after his son. "I'll take him down to the daycare in a second, but Jack here just wanted to say hello to someone first."

Derek exaggeratedly frowned, looking down at the blonde boy "Is uncle Derek not the person you were looking for Jacky boy?" Jack shook his head, loud giggles filling the bullpen, just as the glass door opened one more. "Sorry guys," You started, trying to flip strands of hair out of your face while balancing your coffee and keeping your bag on your shoulder. "I had to drop d/n at daycare, sitter cancelled." You gasped loudly when you spotted the small figure in Derek's arms, placing all your things on the closest desk as you opened your arms wide. Jack wiggled his legs in Derek's arms so he could be put down on the floor, a wide smile gracing his features. You crouched down on the floor, grinning at the boy, who yelled loudly "Mommy!" as he ran into your arms.

An eerie silence filled the bullpen as all conversation died down. You wrapped your arms around the boy, his words sinking into your teammates' heads. You lifted Jack up into the air with a clueless smile, standing tall enough so you could see all of your coworkers' facial expressions, when it hit you. Your eyes widened and you froze, past the point of collecting yourself or trying to brush off what Jack said as an accident.

"What did he just say?" You hear Penelope interrogate, looking back and forth between the profilers in the room, hoping to get an answer. As though sensing the change in atmosphere in the room, Jack lifted his head from the crook of your neck, looking up at your face. You moved your stance to balance him on your hip, using the other hand to pick up your to-go cup and take a long sip of your coffee. "You wanna try my coffee Jack?" You teased, breaking the silence between you and him, laughing as the boy pulled a face of disgust, remembering the time he smelt his dad's black coffee one morning when you were over with d/n.

"Yuck! ... Mommy, am I gonna see d/n?" He asks, swinging his legs happily. You're painfully aware of the eyes stuck on you and the boy, glancing up to look at Aaron, observing his reaction. He's smiling softly at you and his son, back turned to the other agents in the bullpen. He walks over to you just as you reply to Jack "She's in daycare right now! Do you want to go join her?" Jack nods excitedly, arms lifting up when his dad walks over, allowing him to take him from you. "Well since the cat's out of the bag." Aaron shrugs, leaning down to press a kiss on your lips, walking out with Jack in his arms who giggles loudly "What cat daddy?"

With Jack finally facing away from you, you let all your emotions show up on your face: shock, confusion, and most importantly embarrassment to being exposed to your relentless team of close friends who will never stop the questions:

'How long?' 'Jack calls you mommy?' 'Don't you owe me money Morgan?'

You laugh at Spencer's comment, watching as Derek fishes his wallet out of his pocket, holding up a 20 dollar bill for Spencer to take. Rossi pushes himself off the desk behind him, where he faces Emily and the rest of the team. He sighs, shaking his head "For the record, I knew his whole time. And at least now you don't have to hide your ring, y/n." He states as he walks away. "You're married!?" Emily and JJ yell at the same time as Penny squeals loudly, running to hug you tightly. "Engaged!" You try saying over the noise. "Engaged not married!"

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hoe4hotchner · 1 month ago

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Child abductions | [A.H]

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x gn!Reader | WC: 1.1k | CW: Angst, no use of Y/N.| Summary: Hotch yells at you and you get sad and a little scared so you retreat. Hotch come to apoligize once he cools down. |

A/N: This is kind of inspired byt Hotch and his little temper tantrums in Gabby…. God I love when he gets angry.

It had been a long case. The kind that gnawed at your spirit and left a dark weight hanging in the air. A child had gone missing. The team had been running on fumes for days, chasing down every lead with increasing desperation. Hotch had been especially on edge, cases with children always hit him the most, the pressure weighing heavily on his shoulders. Every dead end, every false lead - he took it all personally.

You knew he cared deeply for every case, but this one was hitting him harder than usual - even more so for a child abduction case. The little girl’s face was plastered across every screen, her eyes a constant reminder of what was at stake. You’d been there, trying to support him as best as you could, offering quiet reassurance when he needed it. But you knew it wasn’t easy to get through to him when he was like this - focused, intense, burdened by the responsibility of finding her in time.

You’d seen him upset before - frustrated, tired, worn down from the endless stress of your work - but this was different. The raw fury in his voice when he’d been interrogating the unsub had left everyone on edge, including you. When the team returned to the precinct, there was a heaviness in the air as Hotch began debriefing. His voice was sharp, cutting through the tension in a way that made everyone stand a little straighter.

You tried to be helpful, stepping in with a small observation about the evidence, your voice gentle but sure. Before you even finished speaking, though, Hotch snapped.

“Not now!” he barked, his eyes blazing with an anger that wasn’t meant for you. “Just - stop. I don’t need you interrupting right now.”

The sudden harshness of his words cut through you like ice, freezing you in place. You stood there, stunned, feeling the weight of his anger crash over you like a wave. He had never raised his voice at you like that before. Your heart pounded in your chest, your throat tightening as you nodded quietly, retreating from the room without a word. You didn’t want to make a scene, but the sharp sting of his outburst lingered, burning in the pit of your stomach.

The team fell silent, watching you go, but no one dared to say anything. They could tell Hotch was too far gone in his anger to realize what he’d just done.

You found a quiet corner away from everyone, sitting down as you tried to calm your racing heart. You couldn’t stop the thoughts from swirling in your mind - Hotch had never spoken to you like that, and the way his voice had cracked with frustration scared you in a way you hadn’t expected. He had always been your steady, composed rock. Seeing him like this, so consumed by his anger, made you feel small like you’d done something wrong even though you hadn’t.

Time passed in a blur as you sat there, staring blankly at the floor, trying to push the hurt away. It was hard to shake the sting of his words, though, and harder still to quiet the nervous flutter in your chest every time you thought of facing him again.

It wasn’t until later, when the case was starting to wrap up and the tension in the precinct had lifted, that Hotch realized what he’d done. The anger had drained out of him, leaving only exhaustion in its wake, and as he replayed the events of the day in his mind, his heart sank. He remembered snapping at you - remembered the look in your eyes, how you’d gone silent and withdrawn so quickly. It hit him like a punch to the gut.

He searched the precinct, looking for you, dread building with every step. When he finally found you, you were sitting alone, your arms wrapped around yourself like you were trying to make yourself smaller. His heart clenched at the sight.

“Hey,” he said softly, stepping into the room. His voice was gentle now, but you stiffened at the sound of it, your eyes darting up to meet his before quickly dropping back to the floor. “Can I… Can we talk?”

You didn’t respond at first, your hands gripping the edge of the chair like you weren’t sure what to do. He could see the sadness etched on your face, the way your shoulders were tense, and it broke something inside him.

He crossed the room slowly, careful not to crowd you. “I’m so sorry,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t mean it. You didn’t deserve that—none of it. I was angry, and I took it out on you. That was wrong.”

You swallowed, your throat tight. “You’ve never… you’ve never yelled at me like that before,” you said quietly, your voice trembling. “I didn’t know what to do.”

The pain in your voice was like a knife to his heart, and he knelt down in front of you, his hands resting gently on your knees. “I know,” he said, his eyes searching yours for any sign that you understood. “I was an idiot. I never want to hurt you like that again. You mean too much to me.”

You looked at him, really looked at him, and saw the regret in his eyes. The weight of his apology settled over you, easing some of the hurt in your chest. Slowly, you nodded, your body relaxing just a little.

“I just… I didn’t know what I’d done wrong,” you admitted, your voice small. “It scared me.”

Hotch’s expression softened, and he reached up to gently cup your cheek, his thumb brushing away a stray tear you hadn’t even realized had fallen. “You didn’t do anything wrong,” he murmured. “I let my emotions get the better of me, and I’m so sorry. You’re the last person I would ever want to hurt.”

For a moment, the two of you just sat there, the silence between you softening as the tension eased. You leaned into his touch, your heart finally starting to slow, and he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“I love you,” he said quietly, his voice full of sincerity. “I’m here, and I’m not going to let anything come between us. Not even my own stupidity.”

A small, shaky smile tugged at the corners of your lips, and you nodded, letting yourself sink into the comfort of his presence. “I love you too.”

Hotch pulled you into his arms, holding you close, and you felt the last of the fear and sadness melt away. You weren’t afraid anymore, not with him holding you like this. And as the two of you sat there in the quiet, you knew that no matter what, you would always find your way back to each other.

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thewulf · 9 months ago

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Bulletproof Bonds || Aaron Hotchner

Summary: Request - Maybe a husband!Aaron x Long Time BAU!wife and how there’s a new member to the BAU and she keeps trying to flirt with Aaron but he keeps turning her down🥲 but the new member doesn’t know that Aaron and reader are married, and new member just thinks of reader as competition to get with Aaron, eventually leading to reader getting really mad cause new member does something really stupid on a case that leads to reader almost getting seriously injured??... Read Rest Here

A/N: Really loved writing this one. Hope you all enjoy! Thank you for the request @viscade !

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader,

Word Count: 3.1k

TW: Yelling, gunshot (non wounded)

In the bustling chaos of the BAU bullpen, Aaron Hotchner sat at his desk, his brow furrowed in concentration as he sifted through the multitude of case files scattered before him. A usual sight for the unit chief. The harsh fluorescent lights cast stark shadows across his features, accentuating the lines of exhaustion etched into his face by years of chasing monsters in the dark.

You sat by his side, a silent sentinel amidst the whirlwind of activity. Your own workspace dedicated beside him cluttered with documents and crime scene photos. The faint aroma of stale coffee hung in the air as you both delved into the intricate web of clues left behind by the latest serial killer to plague the streets. It was always so easy with him, your husband. The way the two of you were able to bounce ideas off each other was like none seen before.

The tension in the room was palpable, a heavy weight pressing down on everyone present as they grappled with the enormity of the task at hand. Each unsolved case seemed to loom over them like a specter, a constant reminder of the lives lost and the justice yet to be served. Amidst all the usual chaos, Agent Sarah Miller made her presence known. Her arrival heralded by the soft click of her heels against the linoleum floor. She moved with a confidence that bordered on arrogance, her youthful exuberance a stark contrast to the world-weary countenances of her colleagues. She had no idea what she was getting herself into.

Sarah's eyes lingered on Aaron as she sauntered past his open aired desk, a knowing smirk playing at the corners of her lips. She was young, ambitious, and hungry for success. Her gaze fixed on the formidable figure of the BAU's leader like a moth drawn to a flame.

Despite Aaron's cold indifference, she persisted in her attempts at flirtation, undeterred by his lack of response. Her tactics were shamelessly transparent, her words dripping with false sweetness as she sought to capture his attention. Agent Sarah Miller yet again walked past Aaron's desk, her gaze lingering on him for a moment too long before she turned her attention to you. There was a subtle flicker of annoyance in her eyes as she took in your presence, her lips curling into a barely concealed sneer.

"Hey, Hotch," she purred, leaning against the edge of his desk with practiced ease. "You must be tired of staring at all those files. Why don't you take a break and grab a coffee with me?" Her eyes kept looking back to you in brief flashes to gauge your reaction. You decided early on after her brazen attempts that you would give her none. A layer of disgust masked on top of the doe eyes she was attempting to give your husband was meant for you. She was very forward, you had to give her that one.

Aaron's response was polite but firm, his tone devoid of any warmth. "I'm sorry, Agent Miller, but I have work to do," he replied, his eyes never leaving the papers in front of him.

Undeterred, Sarah flashed him a flirtatious smile, her gaze lingering on him expectantly. "Maybe some other time, then," she said, her voice dripping with false sweetness before she finally strolled away.

You couldn't help but roll your eyes at her blatant display of interest, the subtle scoff escaping your lips as you returned your focus to the files sprawled across your desk. "Some profiler she is," you muttered under your breath, the sarcasm dripping from your words like venom. It was a small act of defiance, a way to vent the frustration bubbling just beneath the surface as you watched Sarah's failed attempts at seduction.

Your comment earned a small smirk from Aaron, his lips quirking up in amusement as he glanced up from his work. His eyes met yours, a silent acknowledgment passing between you, a shared understanding of the absurdity of the situation. In that fleeting moment, you found solace in the unspoken reassurance that he was not blind to Sarah's antics, nor was he unaffected by them.

As the tension in the room continued to get heavier, you exchanged a knowing glance with Aaron, the unspoken bond between you speaking volumes. It was a silent reminder of the unbreakable connection that bound you together, a tether grounding you amidst the disarray swirling around you. In that moment, you drew strength from the knowledge that no amount of flirtation from the new agent could ever hope to rival the deep-seated love and loyalty that defined your marriage.

But beneath the surface, resentment simmered, fueled by the blatant disrespect for the boundaries of your marriage. Each lingering glance, each flirtatious comment served as a reminder of the fragile line Sarah was treading, unaware of the storm brewing beneath the calm facade. Yet, as frustrating as her antics were, you knew that the true test of your marriage lay not in her misguided advances but in the unwavering trust and devotion you shared with Aaron. A bond that would withstand any challenge thrown your way.

You had to give the girl credit. She certainly didn’t stop. It was not even an hour later that the girl came crawling right back to him. In the dimly lit bullpen of the BAU, the seasoned agents huddled together, their eyes darting furtively around the room as they exchanged knowing glances. Reid, Garcia, Morgan, and Prentiss stood in a tight circle. Their voices hushed as they leaned in conspiratorially.

"So, who's going to crack first?" Garcia whispered, her eyes sparkling mischievously behind her glasses.

Prentiss smirked, crossing her arms over her chest. "My money's on Y/N. She's got that poker face down pat."

Reid nodded in agreement, adjusting his glasses. "And she's got a wicked sense of humor. I don't think she's sweating it."

Just then, Morgan, ever the observant one, interjected with a grin. "You know what, I'm with both of you on this one. Y/N's handling this like a pro. She's probably just waiting for the perfect moment to drop a witty comeback."

The others turned to look at you, noticing your bemused expression as you observed the scene unfolding with a mixture of amusement and annoyance. The new agent, eager to impress, leaned in a little too close to Hotch, her voice dropping to a suggestive whisper. "So, Hotch, any plans for dinner tonight?"

Hotch glanced up from his paperwork, his expression remaining impassive. "Just finishing up some reports, Agent. Nothing planned."

Undeterred, the new agent persisted, fluttering her eyelashes coyly. "Well, if you change your mind, I know this great Italian place down the street."

Hotch merely nodded, returning his attention to the file in front of him. "I'll keep that in mind. Thank you, Agent."

Behind his back, the BAU members couldn't contain their laughter, stifling their giggles as they watched the new agent's attempts fall flat. It was clear that Hotch was immune to her charms, his focus unwavering even in the face of relentless flirting.

As Sarah retreated, finally somewhat defeated, the BAU members exchanged triumphant looks, their silent bet settled. Hotch may have been unflappable in the field, but when it came to dodging unwanted advances, he was truly a master of his craft. And you, well, you were just enjoying the show, your amused smile barely masking your annoyance as you watched the scene unfold.

The breaking point came during a particularly intense case, where the unsub's erratic behavior had everyone on edge. You felt the adrenaline coursing through your veins as you moved cautiously through the dimly lit corridors of an abandoned warehouse, every nerve on high alert.

In the heat of the pursuit, Sarah's impulsive decision shattered the fragile equilibrium you had struggled to maintain with your team. Ignoring protocol and disregarding the safety of the team, she charged ahead recklessly, her actions sending shockwaves rippling through your ranks. Bullets flew past you like angry hornets, the deafening roar of gunfire echoing off the walls as chaos descended upon you.

It happened in the blink of an eye, a split-second decision with far-reaching consequences. A bullet sliced through the air like a deadly whisper, its trajectory aimed straight for your chest. But thanks to the protective barrier of your bulletproof vest, the impact was nothing more than a forceful shove, the fabric absorbing the blow with a sickening thud. The impact knocked the wind out of you, pain searing through your body as you stumbled backward, clutching your chest.

As the adrenaline faded and the reality of what could have been sunk in, fury ignited like a wildfire within you. You rounded on Sarah, your voice a crescendo of anger as you unleashed the pent-up frustration that had been building for weeks. Each word was a dagger aimed straight at her heart. Your tone laced with a venomous ferocity that mirrored the intensity of the emotions raging within you.

Coughing up blood, your vision blurred as you struggled to make sense of what had just happened. Anger surged through you like a tidal wave, drowning out the pain as you staggered to your feet. With a primal roar, you lunged at Sarah, grabbing her by the collar with a strength born of desperation.

"What the fuck was that?" you yelled, louder than you ever had before. And certainly not in front of the team. Your voice raw with fury. Each word was a thunderclap, reverberating through the warehouse like a warning shot. "You could have killed me! Or them! Do you even realize what you've done?"

But Sarah's response was a defiant sneer, her gaze unwavering in the face of your righteous indignation. "I did what needed to be done," she spat, her voice laced with arrogance. "I'm not afraid to take risks to get the job done."

The words were like a slap to the face, a cruel reminder of the recklessness that had nearly cost you everything. With all your rage, you shoved her away, your hands trembling with anger as you struggled to contain the tempest raging within you.

"You're a liability," you growled, your voice a low, dangerous whisper. "And if you ever put my life, their lives,” You pointed to Spencer and Emily behind you, “in danger again, I won't hesitate to take you down myself."

As you stood there, trembling with fury and pain, the rest of the team made their way over. You still hasn’t seen Aaron yet but the rest of them looked on in shock and disbelief. Derek surged forward, his strong arms wrapping around you as he pulled you back from the confrontation. "Easy there Y/N," he said, his voice low and soothing as he tried to calm the storm raging within you. "Cool off."

Emily and JJ exchanged worried glances. Finally, Aaron found you after too many moments of losing it in front of everyone. His eyes widened in alarm as he took in the sight of blood staining your lips, his heart clenching with fear at the sight. "What happened?" he demanded. His usually calm voice was laced with urgency as he reached out to gently touch your arm. His fingers trembled against your skin, his touch a comforting anchor in the swirling chaos of the moment.

Still reeling from the confrontation and the shock of narrowly escaping serious injury, Spencer stepped forward, his voice calm but tinged with urgency. "Aaron, Sarah made a nearly fatal mistake," he said, his words cutting through the tension like a knife. "Her impulsive actions endangered everyone on the team, especially Y/N." You were thankful he was willing to step in because you weren’t quite sure if you had the right words.

Aaron's eyes narrowed, his jaw clenching with barely contained fury as he turned his gaze on Sarah. The air around him crackled with palpable anger, his protective instincts kicking into overdrive. "Is this true?" he demanded, his voice cold and steely as he pinned her with a hard stare.

Sarah shifted uncomfortably under his intense scrutiny, her bravado faltering in the face of his unwavering gaze. "I...I was just trying to apprehend the unsub," she stammered, her voice wavering with uncertainty.

But Aaron's patience had worn thin, his temper flaring like a raging inferno. "You made a reckless decision that put the entire team at risk," he snapped, his voice echoing off the walls of the warehouse. "Until you can prove that you're capable of following protocol and putting the safety of your teammates above all else, you will not be back in the field."

The weight of his words hung heavy in the air, a stark reminder of the consequences of her actions. Sarah's expression fell, her defiance crumbling under the weight of his judgment. It was a harsh lesson, but one that she would need to learn if she ever hoped to earn back the trust of her colleagues and prove herself worthy of wearing the badge.

As Aaron turned away, his attention returning to you with a renewed sense of protectiveness, you couldn't help but feel a surge of gratitude for the unwavering support of your team leader and husband. But as you tried to catch your breath, a sudden coughing fit wracked your body, drawing Aaron's attention back to you. Concern flashed across his features, his eyes narrowing with worry as he stepped closer, his hand reaching out to steady you.

"Hey sweetheart," he murmured softly, his voice a gentle caress against your ear as he brushed a strand of hair away from your forehead. "Let's get you checked out, alright?"

You attempted to speak, but the coughing fit continued, leaving you gasping for air. So, you shook your head in protest. You were fine and you knew it, but the damn bullet hit you right in the lung leaving you gasping for air. Aaron's worry deepened, his brow furrowing with concern as he knelt down beside you, his hands hovering anxiously over your shoulders.

"Honey, just breathe," he urged, his voice filled with tenderness as he placed a comforting hand on your back. "We'll get you to the hospital, and they'll take care of you. I promise." It wasn’t usual that he dropped those sweet terms of endearment to you in front of the team, but he couldn’t really care. Not when he could’ve lost you.

Despite your protests, Aaron's determination remained steadfast. With gentle insistence, he scooped you up in his arms, cradling you against his chest with a strength born of love and concern. "You're going to the hospital," he declared, his voice unwavering as he carried you towards his SUV. “I’m not taking no for an answer sweetheart."

As Aaron settled into the driver's seat beside you, his eyes flickered with concern as he stole glances, his hand reaching out to brush against yours in a silent gesture of reassurance. But despite his unwavering determination to get you to the hospital, you couldn't help but feel a stubborn sense of resistance bubbling within you.

"I'm fine, Aaron," you insisted, your tone tinged with frustration as you crossed your arms over your chest. "This is incredibly dramatic. You’ve been hit in your gear too."

Aaron's expression softened at your words, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Maybe I am," he admitted with a chuckle. "I also know what it feels like honey. I’d rather be safe than sorry."

You shot him a playful glare, unable to suppress the teasing smile that danced on your lips. He cared for you, truly. Every inch of himself loved you more deeply than even you could have fathomed. You also knew that love bore stubbornness and there was no talking him out of what he knew he had to do. You were just along for the ride now. "You just can't resist playing the hero, can you?" You spoke up after a moment of silence between the two of you.

Aaron chuckled, his eyes twinkling with amusement as he glanced over at you. "Guilty as charged," he replied. "Always remind me never to get on your bad side," Aaron quipped, a lighthearted smile playing on his lips as he attempted to alleviate the tension that hung heavy in the air.

You managed a weak laugh trying your hardest to hide the pain radiating from your chest. However, so grateful for his attempt to lighten the mood. "You looked like you were about to take matters into your own hands back there," he teased gently, his voice laced with affection.

The image of you, ready to throw down with the new agent, brought a genuine laugh bubbling up from deep within you this time. "Well, she did have it coming," you admitted with a mischievous grin. "But I guess I'll let you handle the heroics this time."

As the laughter subsided, Aaron's expression turned more serious, a hint of regret flickering in his eyes. "I'm sorry things got so heated," he said softly, his voice tinged with sincerity. "I should have stepped in sooner. I thought she was harmless. Dealt with her type so many times before." He sighed, running a hand through his hair before finding your hand and lacing his fingers within yours.

You squeezed his hand, a warm smile spreading across your face. "It’s not your fault you’re such a silver fox," Tossing him a wink you couldn’t help but to tease him right on back. It’s how you knew everything was going to be just fine. The two of you had dealt with so much worse and come out even stronger, this would be nothing but a minor blip on your journey together.

Aaron laughed at your playful comment, a warmth spreading in his chest at your familiar banter. "Ah, so you're saying my charm is both a blessing and a curse," he retorted with a grin, his gaze softening as he looked at you.

You nodded, a fond smile playing on your lips. "Something like that," you agreed, feeling a surge of gratitude for the ease with which you could navigate even the toughest moments with Aaron by your side.

As the car glided through the streets towards the hospital, a comfortable silence settled between you, punctuated only by the gentle hum of the engine. Despite the events that had unfolded, you found solace in the quiet intimacy of the moment, knowing that whatever challenges lay ahead, you would face them together. With each passing mile, you felt the weight of the day begin to lift from your shoulders, replaced by a sense of reassurance that only Aaron could provide. His unwavering love and support was everything you needed. He guided you through the darkness, illuminating the path forward with hope and determination.

As you arrived at the hospital and Aaron helped you out of the car, you knew that this was just another chapter in your life together. You couldn't help but feel a profound sense of gratitude for the man beside you, your literal partner in crime, your rock, your everything. Together, you were truly unstoppable.

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kiwriteswords · 8 days ago

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Maybe some already together hotch and reader parenting Jack?

Heartstrings Attached [Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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ssahotchnerr · 5 months ago

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imagine it being a saturday morning and you're laid in bed trying to catch up on sleep when all of a sudden you wake up because of course its jack and ellie poking you awake. you're groggy and aaron isnt there because he's making them breakfast, as he loves to do, and you can only mumble grumpily about how dont want breakfast, you just want your husband to come back to bed. and so the kids scurry into the kitchen to drag him back and he pulls you into his warm embrace. as you rest your head on his soft tummy and drift in and out of consciousness, you're all piled into the bed, discussing weekend plans and just being a family ❤

(My writing could NEVER be as beautiful or expressive as yours but i hope ive conveyed the concept because we all deserve to feel the warmth these thoughts instill in my heart)

AWWW that is adorable 🥹 the literal dream. fem!reader

muchhh too early, jack and ellie are running into your room, bouncing onto aaron and waking him up first (to be fair, he was already awake, he had heard them coming from down the hall LOL), telling him good morning, telling him what they dreamt about, asking him to c'mon and get up!!!!

you stir at the noise (they're loud), but quickly fall back to sleep - you haven't been sleeping well, have been getting up at the crack of dawn nearly every day, you even fell asleep last night way earlier than usual. aaron knows how exhausted you've been 🥺 so before they can pounce onto you next, he's taking them out (aaron literally caught ellie midway LOL). hehe he's carrying her out sideways as she protests, reaching back towards you, with jack at his heels.

and so aaron starts breakfast <3 as he cooks, they're both crowding around him; jack keeps asking if he can help, so soon enough he's perched on a chair next to aaron so he can easily reach 🫶🏻 ellie isn't as helpful; she brings her toys into the kitchen, which aaron continuously steps on as he navigates around 😭 as she's on the floor and leaves them scattered. hehe he keeps asking her if she's going to play in here, "please play at the table" 😭

and once all is ready, aaron asks them to ask you if you want breakfast, with the instructions of doing so gently, "mom's very tired" 🥺 jack and ellie run back into your bedroom, softly poking you awake. they're close, you can feel their breaths on your face while your eyes remain closed, and you sleepily mumble how you're not hungry, you just want aaron 🥺

so back into the kitchen they go, ellie's pulling on aaron's hand with allll the strength she can muster, attempting to drag him out, telling him that "mommy needs you right right right now🥺🥺🥺"

when aaron slides back into bed 🥺🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻 you subconsciously adjust yourself so your head's on his middle, nestling into him and aaron's playing with your hair as you doze, running his fingers through your hair, rubbing your scalp, pressing kisses to the top of your head <3333 you're just so comfy and he's so warm and you could easily stay right there forever. and so could he 🥰

and meanwhile, jack and ellie are sitting on the carpet eating their pancakes. some show is on the tv, they're quietly eating and watching while you and aaron are snuggled up together <3 and once they're done, they pile into bed with you both; you're more awake now - pressing kisses to jack's head, tickling ellie to get her to giggle, and talking about the day ahead 🥹

for example, jack states how he wants to go to the park, ellie chimes in with agreement - but aaron mentions how there's errands to run first, you mention how they both need to clean their rooms (which cause the kiddos to groan LOL), but you lift their spirits by saying you're ending the night at grandpa dave's!!!!!! for a yummy team family dinner <3

and once all is discussed, aaron takes them out again: to give you the time to get up officially (he encourages you to spend at least ten more minutes in bed🥹) and to ready for the day with no interruptions. jack's at the age where he can do so independantly, so aaron gets ellie dressed, and even puts her hair in little pigtails 😭😭 he also cleans up breakfast - this is something he insists on doing whenever he's home 🫵🏻 since it falls on you whenever he's away <3

and once you're done, you keep the kiddos busy as he does the same (some days though, aaron will very quickly join you in the shower while jack and ellie are preoccupied 🤭)

and then your saturday begins 🥰 the first order of business - getting their rooms all tidied up

(and thank you my sweet i'm sobbing!!! 🥹 you conveyed this adorable scene beautifully💓😭 i'm wholeheartedly obsessed this will be on my mind forever)

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds #aaron hotchner x you #criminal minds x you #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds imagine #jack hotchner #ellie hotchner <3

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messylxve · 6 months ago

Text

rings | aaron hotchner x reader

content warnings: unedited, reader is has a daughter, pre-established relationship, implied SA, me lowkey supporting women’s rights and wrongs

credit to @saradika-graphics for divider

All eyes were on you.

The final moments of this investigation boiled down to this interrogation between you and a woman; a mother.

All eyes were on you in the interrogation room. You could feel it even through the one-way mirror. All eyes except for her’s, that was.

She eyed that pretty little gold band wrapped around the ring finger of your left hand.

“Mrs. Anderson,” you pressed. “Where. Is. Your husband?”

“Don’t call me that,” the disheveled woman snapped, finally looking to you. “Anderson. I despise that name.”

You didn’t react.

“Miss Levigne, you’ve killed three men and you are holding another hostage. Don’t think for another moment that withholding information will help you. Tell us where he is.”

Her eye fell back down to that ring, her frown deepening. “That’s a pretty ring you have there, Agent.” Her voice was nothing but a croak.

“Levigne…”

“Is it a wedding band?”

Your eyes flickered for a moment to the mirror, but you only saw yourself.

This was the most the woman had spoken since taken in.

“Engagement ring,” you answered shortly.

A whisper of a smile fell upon her lips and a bittersweet note played in her eyes. “Do you have children?”

Your finger twitched.

There was something in her eyes that softened. Something so motherly and saddening.

“A daughter,” you just barely whispered.

A sigh escaped her lips. “You love her. All parents should love and protect their children.”

Miss Levigne leaned in close. Not for intimidation, but as if she was sharing a secret.

“Would you do anything to protect your little girl?”

“Yes.”

Your voice felt raw now, vulnerable.

“I did everything I could to do the same.” She let it out in one harrowing breath. “You need to promise me something.”

She reached out for your hand but was cut short by the cuffs tethered to the table.

You met her in the middle.

“Promise me that man doesn’t touch my child ever again. Promise me that he’ll pay for hurting my baby.”

Tears pricked at your eyes but never fell.

“I promise.” Your words had never been truer.

Leaving that room, you were reminded that all eyes were on you.

“There’s a hidden basement in her house,” you announced, but finding your eyes immediately on Hotch.

You could see that saddening hint in his eyes as he rebuilt that wall of stoic professionalism.

“Let’s go,” he announced, Emily and Rossi now hot on his tail. Morgan stayed behind just a pace slower.

“Hey,” he called softly, grasping your elbow. “Why’d you lie?”

Your response came quick.

“I didn’t.”

On the jet, you listened to your music. Your arms were crossed and your leg bounced anxiously as you reread the same line of writing for the millionth time.

With another sigh, flipped the file shut, but as your hand fell to your side, you felt it get engulfed in warmed.

Looking down, you saw Hotch’s had wrap around yours.

You forgot how much you yearned for these fleeting moments of affection.

You didn’t need to look up at him to know he knew how you felt.

“Mr. Anderson will be investigated,” Emily announced, walking down the aisle of the jet before settling in the seat across the aisle from you.

“However, Daisy will be placed with Miss Levinge’s sister and her wife. No one will mess with her there.”

A bright smile eased onto your lips, a sigh of release relieving you. “That’s amazing.”

Emily smiled, nodding at the woman as Morgan filled in the seat in front of you, not minding Hotch as he pretended to read the file. Your entangled hands were clear from sight.

“What about you?” A teasing smile played at his lips.

Your eyebrows dipped down in mock confusion. “What about me?”

“You never told us you were engaged.”

“Or that you had a kid,” Spencer added, placing down his book in curiosity.

“Yeah,” JJ joined in. “What gives?”

Yours eyes flickered over to Hotch you watched the conversation in amusement, not saying a word.

You shrugged knowingly. “You never asked.”

Even through the mini-uproar your response got, you couldn’t help but smile, knowing Aaron’s smile matched yours.

He squeezed your hand even tighter, and you squeezed right back.

BONUS!!

You returned home early that night, Aaron’s car pulling up right behind yours.

“Hi handsome,” you smiled, watching him circle his own car and settle in front of you.

“Hi.”

His smile was soft and warm as he leaned in, placing a loving kiss to your lips.

You brought your arms to his shoulders, pulling him in even closer.

“I missed you,” you hummed against his lips, taking your hands through his hair.

“Really? What if I say I love you instead?”

You backed away from this kiss, forcing your eyes wide. “Oh I’d run for the hills.”

Aaron rolled his eyes, pulling you into yet one more kiss. “C’mon. Jack is staring us down from the window.”

You two walked into the house and all the horrors of the day washed away. It was all forgotten as the excited screaming of two children barreled towards you two: Jack jumping into your arms and your daughter in Aaron’s.

You couldn’t help but smile at this beautiful thing you had.

taglist: @mackannkees

#criminal minds #aaron hotch fanfiction #aaron hotch fic #aaron hotch hotchner #aaron hotch imagine #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner x reader #agent hotchner #aaron hotch fluff #hotchner x reader #ssa aaron hotchner #criminal minds hotch #jack hotchner #hotch x you #aaron hotch x you

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zvdvdlvr · 7 months ago

Note

Would love some more Hotchner blurbs. How about one where you are BAU and have a baby girl (name is up to you) and you bring in the little doll because you (and baby girl) wanted to see daddy? If you are against writing for children, please write Hotch x Reader where she is a civilian and has a stalker problem? Would love to see protective Aaron Hotchner. Thanks

— Popsicles

📎 — synopsis. You, Jack, and Giada go and visit dad at work!

📎 — warnings. Fluff. Tooth rotting fluff. Jack calls reader ‘mommy’. Will def be writing about reader with a stalker problem :)

The summer heat in Virginia was downright unbearable. To you especially, considering your aversion to heat. Thankfully, after being given a rather generous maternity leave, you could enjoy most of the beginning of summer in the air conditioned house.

Of course, Aaron had to go back for work earlier than you. That left you, Jack, and little baby Giada at home most of the time. You loved your babies- blood or not- but still missed the last part of your family: your husband.

So now here you are, Giada in arms as Jack jumps excitedly in the elevator with a cooler in his arms. Giada had been cooing and scratching at everyone and everything for the better part of two hours. You smiled down at the baby, heart swelling with joy as Jack wrapped an arm around your leg and started ushering you forward.

“Aunt Penny!” Jack shouted, dropping the cooler and heading straight towards his favorite technical analyzer. You reached down for the cooler before Derek materialized beside you and picked it up before you could.

“Not letting you lift a finger, y/n,” Derek scolded.

You just chuckled, earning a loud squeal from Giada. “Yeah, baby? Tell ‘im.”

Derek chuckled and wrapped an arm around you before moseying over to where Jack animatedly told Emily, Spencer, and Penelope about the Spider-Man cartoon he’d been watching.

Emily still listened intently as she wrappen an arm around you and let Giada grip her finger tightly. “It’s been rough without you,” she whispered to you. “I think Hotch misses you more than all of the rest of us combined- if that’s even possible.”

You nod, adjusting Giada. The toothy smile she shot up at you and Emily made all the recent sleepless nights worth it. “It’s been hard on all of us- being separated. I just might call Strauss up and tell her Derek needs to take over for awhile again.”

“Do it,” Emily agrees with a chuckle. She gently pries her finger out of Giada’s and nods towards Hotch’s office with a go get your man.

Your surprised that Aaron didn’t emerge like a caveman from his office (mancave) when Jack announced his presence, but at least now you have the opportunity to surprise him. A short come in filters through the door after your gentle knocked. You entered, seeing Aaron’s hunched over body. He wrote fast, you noticed. A smile lit up your face: positioned unprofessionally close to Aaron was a photo of all of you with Giada asleep in your lap- Jack’s head rested on your thigh with his mouth open in a little ‘O’ as he slept. Aaron was sat on the other side of you when he took that picture. He whipped out his cell and angled the phone so that you and the kiddos took up most of the screen.

“Say hi, baby,” you murmured, gently poking your baby girl’s chubby belly. Giada replied with a mix between a raspberry and a laugh.

Aaron’s head shot up. In record time, he crossed the room and enveloped the two of you in his arms and exhaled deeply. “Hi.”

You smiled up at him when he pulled away. “Hi, you,” you mumbled as your free hand came up to run a hand through Aaron’s tousled hair. “Gi and Jay wanted to come say hi… We miss you.”

Aaron’s eyes softened. “I missed you too, sweetheart.” He basked in the feeling of your comfort and Giada’s mindless babbling. “Where is Jack?”

“Handing out popsicles to the team,” you answered. “Here,” you eased Giada out of your arms and into Aaron’s. You watched with soft eyes as Aaron smiled brightly at the little body, gasping when her head fell on his shoulder.

“Clumsy girl,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to the girl’s temple before adjusting her in his arms and letting you lead the way to the bullpen.

Rossi had joined the crowd of federal agents that now scarfed down popsicles like it was their last meal.

“Look who finally showed up,” Rossi quipped, jabbing you in the arm with a red popsicle. “Took you two lovebirds long enough.”

Jack giggled at your encounter and held up a popsicle. “Here mommy- I saved one for you! Uncle Spence was gonna eat it and it was the last blue one!”

“Thank you so much, kiddo,” you answered, accepting the blue raspberry popsicle. You held it out so Penelope could cut the top off for you. “Where’s J.J.?”

Spencer pointed in the direction of her office, wordlessly crunching the frozen treat. You held open and Jack took it. “Grab a green one so these heathens don’t eat all the good ones,” you told Jack. He grabbed one and giggled, avoiding Emily’s attempt to tickle him.

Jack pulled you forward, singing a random excerpt from a classic rock song you’d heard on the drive to the office. He skipped up and down, something you would have told him not to do if he was munching on a popsicle. You smiled to yourself, wondering how you’d gotten so lucky for your family.

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storieswithvenus · 6 months ago

Text

Anna - Aaron Hotchner x Pregnant! Fem Reader

“I am not naming my daughter Samantha, Aaron,” you say as you are folding up a load of washing you had thrown on your shared bed, Aaron sits on the armchair which was located in the corner of the bedroom, a pair of glasses laid on his face as he flicked through a book of baby names.

Licking his index finger and flicking to the next page, he started listing multiple girl names; Olivia, Rachel, Emma, Heather, Sarah, and Lisa. None of the names stuck out to you, at one point you groaned at one of the names.

"I told you I wanted to name her Astoria," you frown and look over at him, " I don't understand why you don't want to pick that name, it's adorable." Aaron sighs and puts the book down onto his lap, taking off the pair of glasses and placing them on the smaller table beside him as he runs his fingers through his hair, combing it out.

"I didn't expect it to be this difficult when it came to naming girls if I'm being honest, but you and I aren't getting anywhere with this and by the time the baby arrives we will still be arguing about her name." his voice was soft but slightly stern, you both knew the baby girl would be here any day, so why count you settle on one perfect name?

Your pregnancy had been amazing so far, you were always being taken care of by Aaron and your beautiful step-son Jack. Anything you needed they came immediately to you and got it for you. Jack had even suggested a few names himself, however, they were only names of girls in TV shows he watched.

Getting up out of his chair, Aaron walked over to you and pulled you into a hug, his arms wrapping themselves around your waist and his head pressed into the crease of your shoulder and neck. "I think it's time we let go and let Jack pick the name," he begins as you feel him leave butterfly kisses on your shoulder, "it'll make him feel part of the family if we let him get the final pick."

You knew he was right in what he was saying. Jack had been a rock in this world for the both of you, he always went out of his way to make sure you knew he loved you, even if you weren't his biological mother. Jack went from being a shy boy who couldn't even look at you the first time you met him to now, this confident and goofy little boy who went and bragged about his mum and dad's career, that they "fought bad people and kept the world safe".

Aaron lifts his head to look down at you, both of you silently agreeing to each other that now is the time you should ask Jack to pick the name. Aaron grabbed your hand and led you outside of your bedroom and down the stairs, your eyes eventually settling on Jack who was playing with his toy cars on the carpet in the living room.

"hey little man, we have something we need you to do okay?" you sit down beside him on the carpet as you pick up one of his toys to play with, running the wheels over the carpet. Jack looks at you then at Aaron, "Am I in trouble?" his soft and quiet voice makes it hard to hear what he said. "No no of course not bub, me and Daddy just need you to help us with something to do with your baby sister okay?" holding onto his hand as you watched his eyes glass up with tears.

Aaron sits down on the other side of him, "We want you to pick baby sister's name jack, will you do that for us?" his eyes light up and his head turns to Aaron before looking back at you to make sure you two were asking him to name his little sister. Aarons's smile covers his face, and joy fills his eyes as he watches his son get up and start dancing around the living room and squealing at the fact he gets to pick the name.

"Really Daddy? You want me to pick baby sister's name?" Jack asks his father as he stops dancing for a moment. "We want you to be a part of this decision buddy, we want you to name her, anything you want. You tell him as he turns to look at you.

"Anna, I want her to be called Anna like in Frozen."

#x reader #fem reader #aaron hotch fanfiction #aaron hotch imagine #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch x you #aaron hotchner #criminal minds #pregnant #pregnant reader #girl dad #jack hotchner #stepmom

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hotchscoffeecup · 9 months ago

Text

through love and loss

~for riv, happy birthday angel <3 thank you for letting me tell this story~

pairing: hotch/reader

rating: t

word count: 9.5k

genre: angst, hurt/comfort with a happy ending

summary: after witnessing your long-term friend and colleague profess his love for you moments before dying in the field, you struggle to cope with the grief and trauma of his loss. through his own experience with traumatic loss, day by day, Hotch aids in your healing and the feelings you begin to catch for him as time goes on scare you just as badly. Will you be able to move on and start again? Or will your grief be too much for you to bear?

“You’ve been one hell of a partner,” he says. His fingers gently clasp over yours and your panicked eyes glance up from the gaping wound in his abdomen to lock onto his. They’re surprisingly clear, the lights of the street lamps reflecting back at you in them. His blood paints your now intertwined fingers. Your gaze flickers between them and his eyes, the soft smile on his lips.

“Don’t say that,” you bite, your voice thick with tears. “Garcia!” you cry knowing she can hear you through your earpiece.

“Honey, they’re coming as fast as they can! Hotch is leading the charge, EMS is with them.” Her voice wavers as it crackles through the mic. “Just hold on.” You don’t know if she’s saying it to you or to him. His earpiece hadn’t fallen out when he caught the bullet and hit the ground.

“They won’t make it in time.” He says, choking out a pathetically weak laugh. “I always knew it could end like this. Can you make sure they use a good photo of me at the funeral? Maybe that shirtless selfie I took in Miami?”

“God, can’t you just shut the fuck up for once?” you snap as you apply more pressure to his abdomen. “You always have some kind of joke, some one liner.”

His smile cracks as you press down, a small “oomph” passing his lips. “You,” he takes a shuddering breath. “You love my jokes.”

“Yeah,” you bite as you blow a strand of sweat drenched hair out of your face, “and you can keep annoying me with them after you get to a hospital.”

“Humor me, will ya?”

Hot tears brim along your lash line as you paint on a smile. “Okay,” you answer tightly.

“My ma,” he starts. He coughs and a trickle of blood spills from the corner of his lips. “Tell her I got him, ok? She’ll need to hear that. And, and tell her I went laughing. That’ll help.”

You can’t help the sob that erupts from your throat, but you try your best to stifle it. His hand tightens around yours and you know it’s taking all of his strength to do that.

“Can you do that?”

You nod as tears stream down your cheeks, etching soft lines into your skin.

“And,” he coughs again as he struggles to breathe. “I can’t—” he rasps. “I can’t go without telling you.” His fingers shake as he withdraws them from your hand and reaches up to touch your cheek. Instinctively, your hand reaches up to support it, cradling the warmth of his palm against your face. He smiles as he winces. “I love you. Since the first day I saw you, I’ve loved you. I shouldn’t—” His features twist as a shudder racks his body and a sob breaks free from his lips. “I shouldn’t have put this job above that, what the Bureau would’ve thought. It’s all too short, ya know?” A bitter laugh tumbles free as he takes a deep breath.

You can hear the sirens now. They’re close, but not close enough. They won’t make it.

“Promise me,” he says, his voice wavering. His gaze locks on yours though you can hardly see for the tears blurring your vision. “The next time you feel love, you really, truly start to feel that hint of desire, those, those butterflies in your stomach, goddammit chase them, Catch that feeling, bottle it up, and don’t let it go for nothing. Promise me.”

You shake your head as you hold desperately onto his hand against your cheek. You feel his thumb weakly stroke the skin there.

Cars screech to a halt. Doors slam.

“I promise.”

His hand goes limp in yours.

The scream that tears from your body is primal and unearthly. This isn’t happening. It cannot happen. You scramble to check his pulse, to hope beyond hope you’ll feel the faintest of beatings; something, anything to signify that he’s still there. There’s nothing. Naturally, you move to begin CPR. Or at least you try to before two big arms thread through yours from behind, hooking you against the plane of someone’s body as they pull you away. You thrash and scream against their hold, fighting to get back to him.

“Let the medics do their job,” a voice says in your ear. Morgan. His grip tightens around you, not in a way that’s painful, but grounding. “Let them try.”

There’s a ringing in your ears, growing louder as you watch the two medics crowd around him. One cuts away the fabric of his shirt while another begins CPR. You watch on in silent, stunned horror.

“What happened?” another voice you recognize says sternly, though his voice sounds far away, like you’re underwater and he’s up above the surfaces.

The medics exchange a grim look after a couple of minutes. The one performing CPR’s rhythm slows until she’s doing nothing at all. She shakes her head.

Your knees buckle and you’re falling. Morgan responds immediately, trying to balance your weight against his own as you go to the ground. Though you're prepared to hit the asphalt, it never rises to meet you. Instead, you fall against the scratchy fabric of a Kevlar vest. Arms cradle you into the plane of a wide chest, your body spasming against their frame as uncontrollable sobs wrack your body. Harsh, guttural screams tear from you, your breathing uneven and irregular as you struggle for air between sobs. Black spots dot your vision.

“You have to breathe,” a faraway voice says. His tone is even, modulated. “Listen to me.” He says your name. Your name. Your name. You latch onto that. You try to, but oh my God. He’s dead. You watched him die. You felt his life leave his body. He loves you…loved you.

“I think she’s going into shock. Medic!”

Everything feels detached, like your limbs are not your own. A light shines in your eyes, but you don’t flinch away. You see the stars. You’re on your back? Your fingers buzz and shake involuntarily, numbness creeping in as you fight to inhale a full breath. A hand clasps yours. It's warm. Something slips over your nose and mouth, a mask? Breathing feels easier, but not by much.

“She suffered a blow to the head—”

Had you? Yes, wait. The fight before. The scramble for the gun. The unsub had wrestled it out of your hand and struck you over the head with the butt of the weapon and then…then two shots rang out.

White stars explode behind your eyes, blinding you. There’s a ringing in your ears.

“He loved me,” you whisper as your vision blurs.

Someone’s calling your name.

“He told me he loved me.”

And then it’s dark, and there’s nothing. And you don’t have to feel anymore.

•

“I can walk you inside.”

“I’m fine, Hotch. Just—” You close your eyes and inhale slowly. You’re not fine. You don’t know if you’d ever be fine. You smooth down the black fabric of your dress, the silk wrinkled from how tightly you’d held onto it during the service. Your knuckles ache from clenching them so hard and your palms sting, littered with half moon cuts from

digging your nails into them; any external stimulation to distract your mind from what was actually happening. Anything to keep from breaking down in front of everyone.

“Just?” he hedges.

You blink out of your stupor and stop staring at the dash. “Thank you for the ride,” you say curtly. Without meeting his gaze, you hastily exit the SUV and step into the rain. You clutch your arms against your chest, holding your double breasted trench closed over your body as you tuck your head and slip through the double doors into your apartment complex, hardly registering the motions of entering your code into the keypad.

God knows how many times you’ve walked this path to your apartment, but today it seems longer. You feel the pressure of each step in these uncomfortably tall, but not too tall, heels. Your purse bounces against your leg as you walk, each step heavier than the last. The ride to the top floor takes longer than ever and when you arrive in front of your door you almost can’t recall which key on your ring will unlock it.

The door to your apartment yawns open to greet you, yet you kick it shut, clamping its lips together to envelop you in darkness once again. Everything is the same, yet it’s all different. You stand there on the doormat staring down the short corridor you cross through day in and day out. Did he know he’d leave his apartment for the last time that day?

The hall leads to the open concept shared living room and kitchen areas. Despite all of the shades being drawn, the wide rectangular sliding glass door ahead emits shrouded gray light from behind the curtains. Without clear thought, you move toward it, dropping your keys and purse on the ground at the door. Mindlessly, your fingers move to the buttons of your coat. Shrugging out of the bulky layer, it falls to the floor in a ripple of fabric as you push the curtain open and unlock the door. The dull pitter patter of raindrops crescendos as you slide open the door, the thick glass no longer dampening the sound of the downpour. You breathe in the crisp November afternoon as a wall of cold air slams into you, eliciting goosebumps across your exposed flesh. You don’t think as you step out into the rain, the wind blowing sideways.

Standing still, you let the rain pelt you and the wind throw your hair. It doesn’t take long for it to soak through your dress, which now clings to your figure. Your hair sticks to your face and neck, a tangled mess of mother nature’s finest. The cold seeps in just as fast and before long your lips are quivering and your teeth are chattering. You feel it bruise down to your bones, yet you don’t move. You feel the icy sting because anything is better than feeling his loss. Anything is better than feeling the raw agony of grief as it digs its fingers into your chest and holds your beating heart in its hand and mocks your pain, never letting you forget a second of that night.

There’s your name on the wind, wait, no. It’s behind you. Your instincts have slowed, like deadened nerves, they don’t react the same.

“What are you doing out here?”

You blink and Hotch is standing just outside of your back door, his hand shielding his eyes from the rain. Your lip quivers in response as he steps forward and pulls you inside. He immediately shrugs out of his suit jacket and drapes it over your shoulders before guiding you to the couch.

“God, you’re freezing,” he says as he drops your hand in your lap. “I’ll get some towels.”

You stare at your hands in your lap as he stands, his footsteps echoing down the hall. He returns with two. The first, he passes to you and you just hold it. The second he uses to blot your face before draping it over your shoulders and pulling your hair off your neck and face, smoothing it over your ears and shoulders so it falls over the towel.

When he sits, his eyes meet yours. They’re a deep brown, like coffee, coffee without milk. They’re warm like coffee, too. Just looking into them begins to just barely chisel at the ice you’ve let burrow deep into your bones.

His brow pinches. “God, what the hell were you thinking? You’re going to get sick standing out there in the rain and cold like that.”

Your fingers curl around the towel in your lap, your gaze fixed on the coffee table. “I needed to feel anything else,” your voice cracks as tears well along your lash line. “Because if I don’t, all I’ll feel is the hurt and it’s so deep, and I’m so scared that this is all I’ll ever feel.”

Hotch’s features soften, his lips parting. He knows the feeling all too well. “It seems like that now.” His voice is soft. “When I lost Haley, even though we’d been divorced for some time, it felt like my world had crumbled out from under me and I wondered if I’d ever be able to rebuild it.”

A strangled sob escapes your lips and you hug the towel to your chest. “How? you ask, voice pleading. “How do you do that? I want to do that. I need to start, because I can’t…I can’t live with this pain, Hotch.”

“It’s not immediate,” he answers. “It’ll take a long time for the pain to subside to where it’s only a dull ache and then one day, you’ll wake up and it won’t hurt anymore. You have to give yourself grace and let yourself feel the agony of his loss. Stop trying to push it down. You don’t have to save face for anyone.”

Your voice is small when you speak. “I’m scared.”

“I know,” Hotch responds empathetically. “Grieving is the hardest part.” His hand reaches for yours. It’s warm against your icy skin and you remember this feeling. He’d been the one to hold your hand as the paramedics loaded you into the ambulance that night. For the first time, you raise your eyes to meet his.

“I don’t think I can come back,” you say, “not now.”

Hotch nods. “I wouldn’t expect you to. Take the bereavement. I’ll pull some strings to grant an extension on it. When it runs out, we can revisit a return to work.” He squeezes your hand and inclines his head to really look at you. “I understand what you’re going through more than anyone. I know how easy it is to want to isolate and shut the world out. When you feel that darkness calling you? I want you to call me instead. I’ll help guide you out of it. Can you do that?”

You pull your bottom lip into your mouth with your teeth to stop its trembling and nod. “I can do that.”

•

Your heartbeat echoes in your ears as the elevator slowly climbs to the floor where the BAU works from. Your fingers twitch along your side as you watch the numbers light up with each passing story. When the elevator dings, signaling it’s your turn to face reality, you square your shoulders and stride through the doors as they part.

A shock of blonde and pink hair greets you immediately. Arms are around you, squeezing you against a fuzzy green cardigan that smells faintly of jasmine.

A small smile tugs at your lips and you're surprised to hear laughter from your lips. “It’s nice to see you, too, Penelope.”

“I missed you!” she says, a wide smile on her pink lips.

“I’ve missed the team,” you say, peering around her. “Is everyone here?”

She shrugs, “It’s Monday morning so everyone is filtering in. You know how it goes.” She turns toward the double doors leading inside. She points over her shoulder with a pen topped with a purple pom pom. Her lips press together. “Are you ready?”

You inhale slowly and swallow.

You know this is going to be hard, but it has been a month. You were sleeping through most nights and had begun seeing the Bureau appointed therapist to cope with the trauma and loss. Hotch had kept his word too. When you had holed yourself away in your room; takeout containers barely touched, forgetting to take showers, and had laundry piled so high it threatened to bury you in an avalanche of fabric, you called him. That’s all you’d done. You couldn’t speak when you did. It had taken all of your strength just to find his contact and hit ‘dial.’

“I’ll be there as soon as I can,” was all he’d said before hanging up.

Penelope had given him the spare key to your apartment that she’d still had from when she watered your plants whenever a case kept you out for longer periods of time than usual. He’d figured you’d not have the strength to pull yourself out of bed. He hadn’t even come into your room when he’d first gotten there. He announced himself when he’d entered, not that you’d have reacted if it were an intruder. Ok, that might have been bullshit. At your core, you were still an agent and those instincts would’ve kicked in. You’d stayed in your blanket cocoon as the sound of dishes clanking and water splashing echoed from the kitchen. He’d knocked on your door and entered with a trash bag, collecting takeout and emptied the rather gross and overflowing bedroom trash can by your bed that you’d filled with tissues from the sporadic sob sessions that would overtake you. Silently, he’d pulled your clothes up off the floor into the hamper and started a load of wash. Only when things were clean did he sit on the edge of your bed and let you fall into him and fall apart all over again.

“Rossi sent me with a home cooked lasagna. It should last the week and then he’ll send another next week. I stocked your fridge with Gatorade. You’ll get sick if you dehydrate and trust me, you don’t want that to happen.” It had sounded like he’d spoken from experience.

When you’d managed to stop crying, you’d sniffed and looked up at him. “Did I hear you humming the “clean up” song?”

“It helps Jack stay on task at home,” he’d said, a soft smile and blush spreading across his cheeks.

“Sweetie?”

You blink. Penelope is looking at you, the concern clear on her face.

You clear your throat and nod. “I’m ready.”

As you enter the bullpen, you don’t miss the way people pretend not to stare as you pass by; watching for cracks in your face and your body that might fracture leaving them to pick up the pieces. There’s a tension in the room as you pass his desk, a pregnant pause as they await your reaction but you’d been preparing for it. You feel the pain flow through you and take slow, measured breaths. The dread passes. The room breathes a sigh of relief.

It isn’t until later in the day that you’re passing the briefing room to deliver a file to Hotch in his office that you notice his photo on the wall honoring fallen heroes within the Bureau; his name embossed on a golden placard and eager, bright face smiling back at you.

Your ceramic coffee cup shatters as it hits the tile. Heads turn in your direction and Hotch is quick enough to react, stealing out of his office and reeling you back into it before you crash onto your knees unable to breathe.

•

Work gets easier. The routine becomes familiar again. There are good days and bad days. You don’t break down again at work after the initial shock on your first day back. Aaron checks in with you regularly as does the rest of your team. Hotch seems to pay extra attention, though, and you wonder if the team notices just how close you’d become over the last few months.

It started out simple enough; an extra “how are you?” or bringing you a cup of coffee in the morning. On your first week back, he’d only brought you decaf. “I don’t want to increase any anxiety you might be feeling,” he’d said.

You weren’t cleared to return to the field for two months, so you’d stay behind when the team left; helping remotely from the office with Penelope. You’d missed Hotch during the cases that took them far away from home. At first you told yourself, you were only missing how within reach Hotch had been when you were having a harder time making it through the day. You’d chided yourself and told yourself that it's time to cut the cord, that you had to learn to stand on your own two feet again sooner or later without him there to be your crutch. But was that all you missed?

Having him around made breathing feel easier. It made waking up in the morning seem worth it. He reminds you why you face each day and of the important work you do for the community and country at large. He reminded you why he wouldn’t want you to suffer like this months after the fact.

As you sit at your desk awaiting a phone call from Spencer to get you that update from the morgue, you lean back in your chair and close your eyes. Your ears pick up on the rustling of papers, the gentle whir of the copy machine, phones ringing, and people talking. It’s all so normal. It feels like any other day at the office, yet it feels hollow still.

Hotch had been working on it with you, though. He knew that you’d been withdrawing, despite having come back. You still weren’t taking people up on their offers to go out on weekends or getting a drink after work. It was all too exhausting. So, he started slowly with you. At first, it was really just making sure that you were meeting your basic needs. He’d schedule a time with you at the weekend to go out and get groceries; easy grab and go items because you still didn’t have much energy to cook. He’d help you unpack them and then head back home, not before giving you a hug and telling you how proud he was of you. Eventually, as you’d been able to handle more, he invited you on outings with him and Jack. You’d go watch one of his soccer games or go to the park. Seeing someone so carefree and innocent brought real joy to your heart and it suddenly didn’t seem so unnatural to smile and laugh. And during all of this Hotch had even shared his own experiences with how he’d handled his grief when Haley died. He’d done it all alone though. He’d confided this in you one night over a glass of wine and Thai takeout in your living room.

“I wish I’d had someone to help pull me out of the thick of it, the grief.” he’d said and you’d stopped chewing your food.

“You went through this all on your own?” you’d replied, stricken by the thought.

He’d nodded as he’d wiped a napkin over his lips. “Haley’s sister would keep Jack for a week at a time because I could hardly take care of myself, let alone my own son. It felt terrible, like I was failing him and failing Haley all over again. I would lie in bed, staring at the ceiling, pouring over every little detail wondering what I could’ve done differently, how I could’ve changed the ending.”

“Then what?” you’d asked, because you’d been plagued by the same nightmarish loop of that night.

A soft smile had graced his lips then. “I finally accepted that there’s no way I can change the past. I can wish and hope and beg and plead for a do-over, but that just doesn’t happen. I could either live in that painful memory forever or be grateful I got to have the time with her that I did and do everything in my power to honor her life with my own. I chose to keep living.”

Your phone rings, pulling you out of the memory.

“Hey Spence, any update from the morgue?”

“Mm, not Reid.”

You sit up straighter. “Oh, Hotch. Is everything alright?”

“Yes, I’m leaving the station now to go interview the victim’s wife and wanted to check in.”

“Oh, sir. You didn’t have to do that. Things are fine here. Penelope and I are holding down the fort.”

“You know that’s not what I’m calling to check in about.”

Your brow furrows. Is that a smile you hear in his voice?

You lower your voice. “I’m fine.”

“If being back in the office is too much, too soon I can petition—”

“Really, Hotch,” you say, keeping your voice down. “It feels good to be busy again. If I’m caught up in work, my mind can’t dwell elsewhere. I’m right where I need to be.”

“Well, not right where you need to be,” Hotch comments.

There’s an immediate silence that follows, his words hanging in the liminal space between you and him over the line.

You open your mouth to speak when a beep hits your line. You pull your phone from your ear and see an incoming call alongside Spencer’s photo illuminating your screen. “That’s Spencer on the other line. I uh, I gotta go.”

•

You startle awake, heart hammering inside your chest. His name leaves your lips in a jagged, anguished cry. Cold sweat trickles down your face as you bolt upright, digging your fingers into the mattress to steady yourself.

The door to your room swings open and Hotch hurries to your bedside. You blink hard following the intrusion but quickly remember why Hotch is even here in the first place.

Jack had had a sleepover party at a friend’s house nearby, so you’d asked if he wanted to come over and have a Lord of the Rings marathon. It was playing on cable all evening and you did love those hairy footed hobbits. Hotch had smiled and said something about it having been years since he’d seen them. You’d started to doze three quarters through The Two Towers and he’d encouraged you to go to bed. You told him that he was welcome to stay and keep watching and he’d made some crack about you having a comfortable couch to fall asleep on. Your apartment was closer to Jack’s sleepover party than Hotch’s apartment, so it just made sense for him to stay. Or at least that’s what you’d told yourself.

He smooths back the hair that’s stuck to your face and the feel of his fingers on your skin helps ground you back to reality.

“Deep breaths,” he soothes. “Here.” he passes you the glass of water off of your nightstand and you mutter a thank you as you gulp it down.

When you finish, he takes the glass from you and replaces it on the nightstand. His other hand curls into yours.

“Hey,” he says, inclining his head to intercept the trajectory of your blank stare. Your eyes shift to meet his. “Do you want to talk about it?”

You press your lips together and shake your head. “It was all the same. Just that night in high definition except,” you swallow and shake your head, hoping it clears the image away like when you’re a kid and shake your Etch A Sketch when you want to create a new picture, “the unsub was laughing. From where he lay, dead on the ground, he was laughing. Blood bubbled up through his teeth as he did so and he just kept laughing.” You drop your head into your hands and rub your temples. “I swear I can still hear it. I can still see his open eyes, unseeing, while he laughed.”

Hotch rubs small circles on your back. “I know how scary it is, how unsettling it can be. It’s only a dream. The unsub is dead. He can’t hurt you or anyone else anymore.”

“How long?” you ask, exhaustion heavy in your voice.

“How long, what?”

“How long do the dreams last?”

Hotch sucks a breath in through his teeth. “I wish I had an answer for you,” he says. “There are some nights I still wake up in a cold sweat just like you, Haley’s name on my lips. There are nights I dream that I saved her, nights where I got to Foyet before he got to her. There are nights I dream of Foyet standing over me, of his knife—”

Your hand slips into his and this time it’s Aaron’s turn to lift his eyes to meet yours. “I understand.”

A small smile turns the corners of his lips. “They get easier to live with.” He pulls you into his arms. You close your eyes and let yourself mold against his frame. The smell of cedar and teakwood has become familiar to you, comforting too. You inhale deeply as he squeezes you against him.

“I should let you get back to sleep,” he says as he pulls away.

“Stay?” you blurt awkwardly, voice smaller than usual.

Aaron’s brow arcs in response. “I’ll be right outside.”

“With me,” you say, gesturing toward the bed. “Just,” you breathe out slowly. You feel vulnerable. Your voice cracks despite how hard you try to keep it steady. “Can you just hold me? For a little while? I’m afraid to close my eyes just to see that smile again.”

“I—” he starts and stops. You feel your lip begin to quiver and you wish you could stuff your words back inside your mouth. He is still your boss. What the hell kind of request was that for you to make? Before you can tell him to forget it, he speaks again.

“Of course I can.”

You shift awkwardly, heart hammering now for an altogether different reason, as you make room for him to slide in next to you.

He eases onto the bed, stretching his legs out in front of him atop the covers and crosses one over the other.

He stretches his arm nearest you, “Come here,” he says softly and almost hesitantly, you lay your head against his chest. His heart beats evenly, if not a little quicker than what you imagine his resting heart rate ought to be. Was he nervous too? Was this crossing a line? Before your mind can run away with anxious thoughts, he wraps his other arm across your body while his hand finds its way into your hair, his fingers gently combing through it in slow, soothing movements.

You feel his eyes on you and you want to tilt your face up to look into them, but something holds you back. Instead you let your lashes flutter close and mutter something about only staying until you fall asleep. If you weren’t lying right beneath his lips, you might’ve missed the whisper of laughter that tumbles from them.

“Don’t worry about me,” he says as he drops his hand to your shoulder and strokes deliberate, gentle lines up and down the skin there.

He talks then; about work, about Jack, just about anything until his voice sounds further and further away and you’re fast asleep. And for the first time since you can’t remember when, it’s dreamless.

•

The hum of the jet’s engine should lull you to sleep at this hour yet you continue to scratch notes into your legal pad, not wanting to forget any details to add to your case report. You’d had trouble concentrating when you’d departed from LAX and had spent the first few hours of the flight lost in your thoughts.

The case had gone well. Within 72 hours, you’d delivered the profile and successfully captured the unsub. Richard Pyre, aged 32, had been kidnapping young women and strangling them, leaving their bodies in public places. Local PD had done an excellent job of canvassing the streets. The team came in and connected the missing pieces they’d not been able to decipher and together, you all had caught the bad guy. It was a slam dunk case. So, it shouldn’t be taking you long to compile notes for your report.

You just couldn’t get him off of your mind. It had been a month since Hotch had stayed over at your place, since you’d wept in his arms and begged him to hold you until you fell asleep. The memory alone brings a hot, embarrassed flush to your cheeks. Why? Because Hotch had fallen asleep in bed with you. His phone alarm that he’d set to remind him to pick up Jack from his sleepover had gone off in the living room. When it continued to beep, you’d stirred awake. At first you’d been confused, not remembering having set an alarm as it was Saturday, but then you’d felt the rise and fall of a chest underneath you. Aaron Hotchner was still in your bed, arms around you. He’d pulled the throw blanket from the end of your bed up and over his legs at some point during the night and just fallen asleep too.

For a moment you’d been scared to move, afraid of what lines had been crossed despite not having engaged in any sexual activities. That was your boss in your bed, for Christ’s sake. Yes, the pair of you had been blurring the lines with friendship lately as he’d become so integral to your life. But then again, everyone in the BAU kinda sorta blurred the lines between colleagues and friends. But you’d never woken up in anyone else’s arms.

You’d tried to slip out of his arms without waking him, but between the movement and his alarm going off in the other room you’d never stood a chance. He stirred awake and rubbed his eyes.

“Good morning,” you’d said awkwardly.

He’d immediately dropped his arms from around your body and cleared his throat. “I, uh,” he breathed in deeply and scrubbed a hand over his face. “I must’ve fallen asleep, I’m sorry.” He’d quickly exited the bed and scurried into the living room, where he’d swiped his alarm off.

He’d quickly collected his belongings, muttering about needing to pick up Jack. He’d averted your gaze and apologized again before giving you a quick hug and making a rather hasty exit from your apartment.

You didn’t talk about the incident afterwards, but something had definitely shifted between the two of you.

You drop your pencil onto the table and angle the reading light more towards yourself to not disturb Reid who breathes deeply as he sleeps across from you, arms cuddling his beloved satchel to his chest. As you reach for your coffee, you exhale a heavy sigh when you notice it's empty. You don’t even remember finishing it. You check your watch: 1:22AM. You really ought to try and sleep, but instead you rise to fix another cup.

Walking on the balls of your feet to not disturb the rest of the sleeping team, you make your way toward the back of the plane where the restroom and bar are situated. The red light still blinks on the coffee machine, signaling it’s been keeping the half-full pot hot all this time. As you lift the pot and begin to pour, someone speaks.

“Another cup? Really?”

You startle at the sound of Hotch’s voice, causing you to miss your cup and spill coffee on your hand. You hiss quietly and shake your hand, flinging drops of coffee across the counter.

“Shit, I’m sorry!” Hotch whisper-shouts as he withdraws his pocket square and dries your hand. He moves, bringing your hand under the bar’s lighting to inspect for injuries. Fortunately, it’s just a few blotchy red spots that ought to go away in a couple of hours. His thumb gently strokes the skin around it and your breath catches in your throat. You watch for a few moments, feeling your heart slowly start to beat its way into your throat the longer he holds onto your hand. A part of you wants to draw nearer to him, but instead you clear your throat.

“You should sleep,” he says, finally, dropping your hand. You miss the feel of his fingers immediately.

“Hi Pot, I’m Kettle, you reply snarkily.

Aaron’s lips twitch into a smile. “Yes, well. Typically, I’m working on a lot more than you’ve got to worry about as Unit Chief. I’m usually up at this hour anyway. You, on the other hand, are usually asleep with everyone else. Are you still having nightmares?”

You swallow and turn away, ripping open a packet of Splenda and stirring it into your coffee. “No, actually. Not since—”

“Since?” he presses.

You pick up your mug and turn back around to face him. “Since you stayed the night at my place.”

You don’t miss the way his eyes widen just slightly. He swallows and fidgets with the buttons of his suit jacket. Aaron Hotchner is fidgeting, a clear sign he’s nervous and holding something back.

“It scares me too,” you whisper after a long stretched out silence, hardly discernible.

“What’s that?” Hotch says, tone shifting.

You focus on the heat of the coffee mug in your hands as you press your thumbs into the ceramic to try and fight the heat rushing to your cheeks.

“Whatever this is, these feelings. I’m not stupid, Hotch, and neither are you. We’ve clearly crossed a line and I don’t know how to uncross it.” You take a deep breath, feeling like you’re rambling. “I don’t know how to think around you anymore. Everyday I wake up and get excited because I know I’m going to see you. You bring Jack over on the weekends and it fills me with so much joy I don’t know how to cope with it. And then I feel guilty because I’ve toed this line before. I toed the line and was too afraid because of my job and protocols and it left my heart so broken I didn’t think I’d ever get to put it back together again. Then you come along with your tapes and your glues and you find a way to turn the fractured pieces of my heart into this mosaic of something capable of beating once more.” A tear slips from the corner of your eye and drips down your cheek, falling into your coffee with a soft plop. You raise your eyes to meet his, “Now you tell me what I’m supposed to do with that.”

At this point, your heart is slamming in your chest. Afraid of triggering a panic attack, you turn around and dump the coffee into the small sink carved into the small bar. You don’t need it nor want it anymore.

Hotch says your name and reaches for your arm but you pull away, turning and moving back to your seat at the opposite end of the jet. He could follow, but he won’t. Fortunately for you, Reid being asleep in the seat across from you and Derek being sprawled out across the way didn’t leave much room for Aaron to follow through on your conversation.

•

When the plane lands, you pull your go-bag down from the overhead bins alongside your gun case and cut out as soon as the doors open and the stairs descend.

Emily calls after you, but you duck your head and push ahead off the tarmac and onto the path leading back to the office. You’d finished your report on the plane. Once inside, you drop the manila envelope in the box affixed next to the door to Hotch’s office and dip back out through the main office doors. The elevator dings, alerting you that the rest of the team is about to walk through those doors. Not feeling up to facing anyway you move swiftly to the staircase and push the door open, sliding your body through as the whoosh of the elevator begins to open.

Your thoughts move too quickly as your feet slap against each step, your footsteps echoing in the empty chamber of the stairwell. When you reach the ground level, the parking garage, you fish your keys out of the front pocket of your bag and press the key fob, unlocking your car. Opening the trunk, you toss your go-bag in and place your gun case beside it before slamming it shut. After sliding into the front seat, you put your seatbelt on and back out of your space. As you shift your hands to cut the wheel to the right, someone jumps in front of your car with their hands up.

You slam the breaks and curse. You roll your window down. “Christ, Spencer! What the hell are you doing?”

He lowers his hands and moves to the driver's side window, awkwardly adjusting his satchel on his shoulder as he does so. He swallows and tilts his head to the side, brow furrowed. He takes a few deep breaths. He’d clearly been rushing to follow after you. “I was uh, wondering if I could get a ride home.” He jerks his thumb over his shoulder. “JJ was going to give me a ride, but something with Henry—”

“Just get in,” you say, too exhausted to care.

“Thank you, thank you.” He rushes around the car and clambers into the passenger seat.

For a while neither of you speak. When you pull out of the garage, the sun hurts your eyes. You cuss under your breath as you reach for your sunglasses.

“Why’d you rush off the plane so fast?” Spencer asks as you turn onto the main road. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone disembark the jet that quickly.

You press your lips together, not really wanting to have this conversation. “Maybe I just really want to go home. I’m pretty exhausted, aren’t you?”

He nods quickly, considering. “See, I think this has more to do with the conversation you and Hotch had on the plane.”

You jerk the wheel to the side, causing Spencer to cling to the handle above his seat. The sound of your tires screeching to halt echo as a car swerves and honks.

“What the hell, Spence?” you shout, pulling your sunglasses off to look him in the eye. “Did you lie to me about needing a ride just so you could trap me in this conversation?” You point a finger at him. “That’s fucked up. I don’t like lying. We’re friends.”

He tenses, flinching under your hard stare. “And that’s exactly why I’m doing this,” he says, voice tight.

You lower your finger, posture relaxing only slightly. “What are you talking about?”

“I’ve been paying more attention to dynamics across the team over the last eight months. I read a study on how shared trauma can impact working relationships; some for the better and some for worse. Fortunately, our team seems to have stayed relatively strong following—” He pauses, eyes shifting to yours and then back to his hands in his lap. “His death. Anyway, obviously you took it the hardest, what with having worked closest with him and the lines you walked between colleague and romantic partner.”

You feel your heart squeeze inside your chest, yet Spencer continues on.

“I didn’t see it at first. I thought Hotch was just checking in on you as is his duty as Unit Chief and having to make sure we’re all fit to be in the field. However, as time progressed I started to notice shifts in the way Hotch spoke to you and even his body language around you, even when you weren’t in the office.”

That strikes a chord deep within you. “Okay, and?”

He sits up straighter, lips pursing as he decides how to continue. “It started quite small. I’d catch him end a call with you while out on a case and he’d be smiling, other times his nostrils would flare and he’d wipe his hands down the fronts of his pants, likely because they were clammy, much like you’re doing right now.” He indicates toward you and you clench your hands into fists.

“So, what?”

He laughs exasperatedly. “So, what? You don’t have to be a behavior analyst to see these are all behaviors in line with burgeoning romantic feelings for someone.”

“I don’t—” your words falter as you fail to come up with an excuse.

“You’re scared,” Spencer states. “Moving on is the scariest part. There’s so many feelings attached to it: guilt, remorse, anger, fear, relief, joy. It’s normal to be afraid, but don’t let that fear hold you back from allowing yourself a chance at happiness.”

You swallow thickly as you feel the familiar pressure of tears burn the backs of your eyes. “It’s only been eight months. It feels wrong.”

“I miss him too, you know?” Spencer says after a minute. “I know I might not have been as close to him as you were. You two were in the Academy together after all.” He reaches across the center console and takes one of your hands in his. “And I know that once upon time you and him considered taking your relationship further but decided not to because you were just starting out with the Bureau, but,” he says your name and smiles. “His profession of feelings for you doesn’t mean he’d never want you to find that for yourself. He just wanted you to know that while he was a part of your life, he loved you for all of it. I don’t think he’d want to see you hurt like this. I really don’t.” His clear eyes search yours as he smiles. “For as short a time together as we had, I loved Maeve every day I knew her.”

“Spence—” he cuts you off with a wave of his hand.

“I miss her every day and it’s been two years. I’m not really a guy that goes on dates very often. I’m awkward and weird and I know this about myself. I do know though, that if I am lucky enough to find someone again that loves me, that she would want me to be happy. At least, I’d have wanted her to if our situations had been reversed and I’d been the one to die that day. I wouldn’t have wanted her to put her own happiness on hold.” He squeezes your hand. “You don’t have to put your life on hold. That doesn’t mean you’ll forget him.”

He drops your hand and points to the road. “I’ll buy you breakfast by the way, to make up for the lying.”

You unbuckle your seatbelt and lunge over the passenger seat to pull him into a hug. Spencer wheezes as your body weight collides with him, but his slender arms snake around your back to return the embrace.

“Thank you, Spence.”

•

Usually, after a case, you have a shower and immediately go to bed. Not this time though. Spencer’s words play over in your mind again and again as you pace the length of your apartment floor.

You’d picked up your phone a dozen times to call Aaron, but each time you’d dropped it back onto the counter.

Eventually, you just plop down onto the couch and drop your head in your hands. “Why is this so hard?” you mumble to yourself.

You look up and make eye contact with the picture of you and him from the office Christmas party two years ago. He’s wearing a Santa hat and you’ve got on a headband giving you a pair of reindeer antlers. He holds a Solo cup in the air (Rossi had definitely spiked the eggnog) and the smiles on both of your faces are so genuine. A pang of guilt shoots through as you pick up the frame and cradle it to your chest, as if that was anywhere close to what a hug from him would feel like.

“I wish you were here to tell me what to do,” you whisper.

Spencer’s words move through your mind again, especially what he’d said about Maeve. God, this team has dealt with more love and loss than any normal group of people ought to deal with, but then again you all weren’t exactly a normal group of people.

Spencer had a point though. Rationally, you know he wouldn’t want you to hold yourself back from the possibility of love and happiness with someone. You smirk to yourself because you can picture him sitting next to you making some crack about not ever thinking that man would be Hotch. He’d probably point out that Hotch was at least ten years your senior and make some dumb joke about being a gold digger. You’d never really thought about how much Hotch made compared to the rest of you, but with his title and tenure at the Bureau, it probably was up there.

If you are to do this, pursue whatever is going on between you and Aaron, presuming that that was also something he wanted, it won’t be easy. There’s enough red tape as is, let alone throwing relationships and romance into the mix. However, Rossi and Strauss had been together for a year prior to her untimely death. Again, this team had been through too much. She was his superior and there hadn’t been any problems that you’d been aware of, though no one had really been aware of their relationship until it was too late.

God, you wonder. Even Rossi hadn’t been afforded a chance at long term happiness with her. Is the BAU team just destined for trauma and loss? Maybe you should put a stop to this before it has the chance to go any further…but on the other hand you know Spencer would give his left arm if it meant having one more day with Meave. David would probably do the same to be with Erin. So, what were you doing? Why was it even a question?

You place the photo frame back in its place on the side table and grab your phone and keys off the counter. You know you look a bit disheveled. You’d not bothered to change or shower since getting home. You probably still smelled like plane funk too, but if you didn’t go see him now, you probably never would.

You pull open your front door and nearly trip over yourself as you force stop to keep from barreling into Hotch.

His hand is raised, like he is about to knock on the door no longer between you two. He licks his lips nervously and drops his hand after a

moment of you two staring at each other in stunned silence.

“What are you doing here?”

“I’m sorry to barge in like this.”

An uncomfortable laugh flits between the two of you as your voices overlap.

“Do you want to come in?” you say, gesturing behind you.

Hotch nods, “Please.”

You shuffle to the side and he steps into your apartment, eyes bouncing around the space. “You’ve managed to keep up with the place, that’s good.”

You cross your arms over your chest, hugging your biceps with your hands. “I find that humming the ‘clean up’ song helps.”

A pink blush sparks across his cheeks at your jab. “I’m glad that’s now a part of my legacy.”

There’s another awkward laugh followed by an even more awkward silence.

You rub your hands up and down your arms, suddenly finding yourself not as brave as you were feeling minutes early.

“Aaron, what are you doing here?” you manage to say after a few more awkward moments of silence.

Hotch presses lips together before taking a deep breath. He sweeps his thumb across his lips, suddenly looking very determined as he meets your eyes. “What I should’ve done on the plane.”

It takes seconds for him to cross the space between you. His hands clasp the sides of your face and then his lips are on yours, kissing you with such fervor you’re surprised that you don’t see stars. At first, you don’t even react, too stunned to believe this is happening. And then your arms are looping around his neck and you’re deepening the kiss, tasting the coffee on his lips as your tongue slips between them.

After a minute, he pulls away and you’re both breathless. He presses his forehead to yours and gasps. You look up at him from beneath your lashes and his eyes are wild and searching.

“We’re doing this, then?” you say between breaths.

Hotch nods and brushes his nose against yours. “I don’t think it’ll be easy.”

You twist your fingers into his hair, your lips brushing his as you speak. “Nothing about our lives is easy.”

He kisses you once, quick and brief. “So, we’re doing this?”

“We’re doing this.”

•

*Two years later

“Penelope is really excited about it,” you say as you pull your knees to your chest. The sun is shining brightly, but the crisp fall air is still chilly enough to warrant a scarf and light jacket.

“She wants it to be bright and colorful, with peonies and baby’s breath everywhere. There’s a board in her office with enough strings and photos connected you’d think it was a case.” You laugh to yourself and smooth a hand across the gingham pattern picnic blanket beneath you.

“There will be a chair for you,” you say wistfully. “It’ll be next to ones for Haley, Erin, and Maeve.”

You reach out and brush your fingers along the perfectly etched letters of his name. “I hope you’ll be there.”

The sun glints off of the circular cut engagement ring on your left hand, casting a dazzling rainbow across his tombstone.

“I think about the promise I made you,” you say as you adjust the bouquet of sunflowers and roses you’d propped against his grave and smile to yourself knowing he’d probably make fun of you for the way you diligently make sure there’s always some fresh arrangement to decorate the space. “I was scared when I first started to feel things for him, scared of what that meant. It took me a long time, and an oddly sentimental conversation with Reid to start chasing the feeling.” You laugh to yourself then. “I felt the butterflies though, and though it took a while, I did finally chase them.”

A small gasp escapes your lips then as a Monarch Butterfly lands on top of the stone. You don’t know a ton about their migration patterns, but you know it’s late enough in the Fall that they should all be gone. JJ had said something to you once long ago about how butterflies can be signs of your loved ones from beyond the grave, their way of visiting when they can.

There’s the pitter patter of small feet whooshing through the grass as Jack’s laughter echoes throughout the field as he races toward you.

“Daddy and I finished visiting Mommy,” he says as he throws his small arms around you. Haley had been buried at Quantico National Cemetery too given Aaron’s position within the Bureau. You wrap your arms around Jack’s and look up to see that Hotch is smiling down at the two of you. He asks you if you’re done with your visit, referring to him as uncle. You palm Jack’s small cheek in your hand as your lips curve into a small half smile and tears fill your eyes.

“Just about,” you say.

Aaron stretches a hand toward you and you take it, letting him pull you to your feet.

You glance down at his grave once more and watch the butterfly sit atop the stone gently stretching its wings. It lifts off after a few more beats, fluttering around before landing on your sweater, its small legs hooking onto the threads of your sleeve.

You gasp in disbelief as you watch it climb a couple of inches before it takes off toward the clouds.

A tear slips down your cheeks as a bubble of laughter erupts from you, though there’s something of a sob there too. Aaron curves an arm around you and pulls you against the planes of his body that you’re now all too familiar with. He says nothing and kisses your temple as you watch the butterfly disappear into the sky and you can’t help but entertain the thought that maybe there is a heaven and that maybe, just maybe, he was checking in to let you know everything is okay.

You wrap an arm around Aaron’s torso and hug him tightly. Jack scoops up the blanket and bunches it into his arms.

“Well Soon-to-be Mrs. Hotchner,” Aaron says, rubbing your arm. “Are you ready?”

You take one last look at his grave and the flowers you’ve left there for him.

“I’m ready,” you answer with finality. And when you say those words, you mean them. You’re not just ready to leave for the afternoon, you’re ready for this next chapter of your life to truly and fully begin. It doesn’t mean you’re leaving this part of your life behind, the grief will always be a part of you and you know you’ll miss him and feel his loss until the day you die. And you know that Aaron feels the same about Haley. They’re integral parts of both of your stories, and through the healing you found one another. It’s that that carries you through to each new day, to each tomorrow. You’ll spend the rest of your lives honoring their legacies through the work you do and through the love you share with one another and all of your loved ones.

And that’s an encouraging thought.

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juniperskye · 4 months ago

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That’ll Show Them.

Based on the following ask: 🥰 yay!! Okay. (Deep breath), so the idea was basically either preschool or elementary school setting. Hotch being a sexy single dad has most of the single (and not!) Moms drooling over him. Y/N or Reader is a single mom, not one of those drooling but definitely sees that he's attractive. But her kid (girl or boy) happens to quickly become Jack's BFF and this causes natural interactions and conversations between her and Hotch over the next few weeks which makes the other moms salty and jealous, and she overhears them at one point speculating that she probably told her kid to befriend Jack just so she could get closer to Hotch. I didn't really think of an ending for it but just had an idea of a scene where she's trying to remain calm and unaffected while overhearing them talking about her and giving side eye. Maybe Hotch hears it too and comes to her defense? Or makes them even saltier by asking her out in front of them? 😈 @nyxwolph thank you for requesting this! I did adjust a little bit, so I hope you like it!!

Aaron Hotchner x Single Mom! Reader

Angst/Fluff

Word count: 3569

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

Warnings: My blog is 18+, minors DNI, some explicit language, reader is a single mom, mention of divorce, school moms being shitty, mention of Hotch’s ex father-in-law being ill, no use of y/n, Fem reader, reader has no physical description other than being shorter than hotch, reader is mentioned/implied to own a shop (no details), gay best friend, Hotch starts work at 8am (idk what the BAU hours are lmao) let me know if I missed any!

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

The moms were ruthless. You were barely three months into the school year and already you had been completely ostracized from the “mom group.” Part of you had assumed it was because the majority of these moms had all caught wind of your very public, messy divorce. The other part of you, however, knew that the main reason you’d been exiled was him.

Aaron HOTTIE Hotchner, as the other moms called him, had taken Ms. Jenson’s third grade class by storm. Meet the teacher night had been a frenzy of horny moms all praying their child ended up in the same class as Aaron’s son. There were hushed conversations and giggles, and hair flips all night long, you had felt bad for the teachers since their presentations had fallen second to the gossip travelling through the halls about the hot single dad.

“I heard he works for the FBI!”

“I heard he’s a widower. Could you even imagine?”

“Wow. He must be pretty amazing, a single dad and working for the FBI!”

“Can we be real for a moment and just admire how hot he is?”

“Did you see his hands?”

“Yes! Did you see his suit? I love a well-dressed man.”

They were vultures, every single one of them, and Aaron was their newest victim. He, of course, had been completely oblivious to the blatant flirting – he returned every advance they made with a kind smile or polite nod. And listen, you weren’t going to deny that Aaron was hot…you just weren’t trying to be like those other moms and gush about it at meet the teacher night.

Your being excluded by the class moms had only gotten worse since Jack and Millie had become friends. Millie had told you on the first day of school, that a boy had pushed her down on the playground, and before you could panic, she told you that a different boy…one named Jack…had helped her up. She said after that, they sat together at lunch and read aloud.

You could barely contain you excitement. Since the divorce, Millie had been having a tough time making friends – mainly because the moms told their kids to stay away. Your ex had been quite cozy with some of the moms at Millie’s last school and you had eventually found out he was sleeping with one of them. Once the divorce was finalized and you had full custody, you’d moved and that meant a new school for Millie.

Realistically that should’ve been the end of the drama, but it just so happens that the girl who your husband slept with…well her sister’s child was in the same class as Millie. He of course was the kid that pushed Millie down on the first day of school.

It shouldn’t have bothered you, their constant whispers…but it had you seething. This was an everyday occurrence now that you drove Jack home. The moms all waiting for dismissal engaging in hushed conversations about how desperate you must be.

“I bet she told her daughter to befriend his son.”

“What a sad way to get his attention.”

“Well, I mean, her ex did cheat…so she’s probably desperate.”

“She’s ridiculous if you ask me.”

This new development has begun exactly two weeks ago. Jack and Millie had been on their sixth playdate – this had been the first one Aaron had been able to host (due to work obvi) which had led to you staying and the two of you talking about how demanding his work schedule must be. He had told you it kept him pretty busy and that his sister-in-law had been extremely helpful, but with her father falling ill, she was growing increasingly busy.

“You know, I could drive Jack. If you’re comfortable with it.” You offered.

“I couldn’t possibly ask that of you!” Aaron panicked.

“It’s a good thing you didn’t ask…I’m offering. I already have to drive to the school to get Millie, I could grab Jack and the two of them could hang out until you are off work. And if your sister-in-law ever can’t watch him while you’re away, know that I am more than willing.” You punctuated with a kind smile.

“What if I take them to school, I don’t need to be at work until eight, and then you could pick them up? That way it is even. Obviously when I’m out of town, which wouldn’t necessarily be possible, but I could coordinate with Jess and…” Aaron was spiraling.

“Aaron. If you want to take them to school when you’re in town, that would be great. That would allow me the time I need in the shop before opening. When you are out of town, if Jack is staying with me, I will take them to and from school – if he’s with Jess, she doesn’t have to worry about Millie okay?” You suggested.

“You’re a godsend. You know that?” Aaron said, a smile growing on his face.

“Yeah well, Jack has been an incredible friend to Millie, and I would love for them to spend more time together. Plus, the house has been so quiet and, I don’t know. It would be nice to have the kids there.” There was a slight cringe that was brought with the insinuation of your divorce.

“I appreciate it either way.” Aaron gently nudged your shoulder.

So, for the last two weeks, Aaron had been driving the kids to school and you had been picking them up. He shockingly had yet to be called on a case…but you knew it was only a matter of time.

Aaron was called away a few days later, he had let you know that Jess would be watching Jack. That had sent a tinge of pain right to your heart. In truth, you were attracted to Aaron, and the more time you spent with him, you were starting to fall for him. You tried not to focus too much on the fact that he’d sent Jack to stay with Jess…chalking up to the fact that Aaron probably didn’t want to burden you – even though he could never.

You didn’t hear from Aaron until nearly two weeks later.

A: Hey, we just got back from this case. I’ll pick Millie up in the morning for school. Are you good to pick up Jack after?

Y: Hey! Yeah I can pick them up tomorrow. I have to take Millie to get her cleats and shin guards for soccer, is it okay if Jack tags along?

A: I totally forgot soccer starts next weekend. If I sent some money in Jack’s backpack could you pick up his stuff too?

Y: Of course! Will you be late tomorrow?

A: Probably, after a case like this, there’s a lot of paperwork to be done. I will try to be there by 7pm if that’s okay.

Y: 7 is fine, we will get homework done and I will feed them and have Jack all ready for you!

A: Thank you. Seriously I don’t know what I’d do without you.

The next day you arrived at the school at 2:45 pm to pick up the kids. You parked your car like always and stood in wait with the other parents. You were checking your phone to see where the nearest sporting goods store was when one of the dads approached you.

“Hey, is Millie ready for soccer to start?”

“Oh, hey Scott! Yeah she is so excited! What about Macy?” You questioned.

“She’s nervous, but she told me she was glad Millie and Jack were playing too. Michael was really bummed that the girls weren’t in a class together this year.” Scott explained.

“I was too! How is Michael? We should all have dinner some time!” You suggested.

“He’s good, and I am sure he would love to have you and your new beau over for a meal – I will talk to him when we get home!” Scott beamed.

“New beau…what are you talking about? Do you mean Aaron? He and I, we’re not…” You stuttered.

“Don’t worry, it’s okay! You should be bragging to all those bitches that you bagged the hot DILF! Don’t let them spoil something good for you hon.” Scott gently squeezed your arm.

Just as you opened your mouth to reply, the kids came running out. Macy ran to hug her dad while Jack and Millie made their way to you. Both kids hugged you and then said their goodbyes to Macy. You moved to grab their hands and guide them to the car, but not without catching the glares from all the moms. They must’ve heard Scott and you talking…and while you and Aaron weren’t dating, it didn’t hurt to let them believe it for a bit.

After getting the kids soccer gear, you took them home and got them started on their homework and gave them some apple slices. You checked a few emails, changed the washer and dryer, and wrote up your grocery list in the meantime.

When they were done with their homework, you checked their work and then quizzed them on their spelling words. By then it was nearly 5:30 pm, you set the two of them up in the living room with a coloring book and some Legos while you got dinner started. You made some grilled chicken, mashed potatoes, and green beans – for the kids, you added some cheese to the potatoes and cut up the chicken – setting that on the table for them alongside a glass of chocolate milk.

“Kids, time for dinner!” You hollered.

“Coming mom!” Millie called.

You were about 10 minutes into dinner when a knock sounded from the front door. You excused yourself and walked over to let Aaron in.

“Hey, we were just having dinner, can I get you a plate?” You offered.

“Oh, as long as it’s not an imposition!” Aaron replied.

“Aaron, how many times do I have to tell you that it’s not an imposition. I like having you around.” You stopped abruptly, embarrassed that you’d let that slip. “I mean, you know, it’s nice that Millie and Jack are friends…I uh. I…”

“I know what you mean. And I like having you around too.” He said, finally stepping fully into the house.

Aaron placed a gentle hand on the small of your back to guide you toward the kitchen. You plated him up some food and he joined you at the table, sitting right beside you. You couldn’t help the growing heat that bloomed on your cheeks as his arm brushed against your own. The room was filled with the playful chatter of the eight-year-olds that sat across from you, giggles escaping them as they recounted the events of their day at school.

Glancing over, you noticed the joy radiating from Aaron’s expression. You hadn’t seen him this genuinely happy in all the time you’ve known him, and you wonder if it is because he doesn’t get to relax like this often. The thought allows your mind to drift even further – splaying images of cooking for the four of you all the time, of late nights cuddled with Aaron and even further into the future, welcoming a new child to the family you’ve curated…only it's all in your head.

“You alright?” Aaron whispers. His warm breath against your ear causes a chill to cascade across your skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

“Yeah, I’m good. Sorry, just lost in thought.”

“Hey mom, is Jack’s dad going to be my new dad?” Millie posed, causing you to choke on the bite of chicken you’d just taken.

“Woah, sweetheart you’re okay, just breathe!” Aaron patted your back gently. “Here, take a sip of water.”

Taking a swig, the chicken makes its way down. “Mills…baby where did you get that idea?”

“Well Rain said that his mom said that you were moving in on Jack’s dad, and I thought that if we were moving in, then that would make him my new dad!” Millie smiled.

It was Aaron who choked this time, only it was on his water, causing some of it to certainly escape through his nose. He pulled his napkin to his face as he coughed in an attempt to clear his airway.

“Aar…breathe.” You returned the favor of patting him gently on the back. “Are you okay?”

He answered with a nod and allowed a chuckle to escape his mouth before looking up to meet your gaze. Aaron wasn��t ignorant of the fact that the other moms had been eyeing him since the beginning of the year, he just hadn’t realized that they’d gone after you due to your budding closeness.

“Millie, Rain’s mom is just kidding. Jack’s dad and I are becoming good friends, like you and Jack, and they don’t like that, so they’re saying some not so nice things.” You explained.

“Oh…okay.” Millie said, a small pout gracing her features.

A pout that pulled on not only yours, but also Aaron’s heartstrings. He allowed himself a glance in your direction and took careful note of the hurt and disappointment that flashed across your own features briefly. Was it possible you felt more than you were letting on?

Six days later you received a call at four in the morning. It hadn’t been the thing to wake you up, but it came as a surprise, nonetheless.

“Hello?”

“Hey, I just got a call about a time sensitive case and Jess is dealing with her dad. Would you mind taking Jack while I am away?”

“Aaron, of course! Do you need me to come and get him?”

“No, I will get a bag together for him and drop him off on my way to the office. I am going to leave you with a key to my place just in case Jack needs anything. Thank you for doing this, seriously it means a lot.”

“It’s really not a problem, I will have a bed made up for him by the time you get here.”

“Thanks sweetheart, see you soon.”

With that, Aaron hung up, and for the second time you were taken by surprise at the pet name he so casually referred to you by. You had to remind yourself not to swoon. It wouldn’t do you any good to get into your thoughts about the meaning behind his slip of the tongue.

Jack Hotchner was the most wonderful child you have the privilege of knowing – aside from Millie of course. He was polite and he listened with no pushback. He helped Millie with her chores (cleaning up her toys and putting her clothes in the laundry basket), he didn’t complain, and he just exuded this kindness and joy that brought an extra bit of warmth to your home.

You could see Millie becoming attached and you feared her heart would break once Jack had to go back home. You only hoped that she’d understand that although Jack’s presence isn’t currently permanent, they’d still get to see each other all the time.

Jack stayed with you for five nights, Aaron surprised you all by showing up with a pizza on Saturday evening.

The three of you had been cuddled up on the couch watching Inside Out 2 when the doorbell rang. You shuffled over to the door in your sweats and fuzzy socks to see Aaron standing there in a quarter zip and jeans. Good God, he’s never looked so good.

“Aaron!” You couldn’t hide your excitement.

“Surprise! I brought pizza, I hope cheese is okay.” He inquired.

“Cheese is perfect.” You confirmed. “Kids, dinner is here!”

“Dad!”

Jack ran to embrace his father. Millie, however, stormed off to her room. You were quick to throw Aaron an apologetic glance, before following her down the hall.

“Mills…what’s wrong honey?”

Millie replied with a grumble in her pillow and a shake of her head.

“Baby, I can’t help if you don’t tell me.”

“It’s not fair. Jack doesn’t have a mom, and I don’t have a dad. But when you and Mr. Aaron are together it feels like a normal family. How come you guys can’t just be together?” Millie cried.

“Oh, honey. It’s not that simple bug. Mr. Aaron, well he’s a busy man and I just…” You trailed off.

“Don’t you like him?”

“Mills, yeah I like him, but like I said, it’s not that simple. Even if he liked me back, that wouldn’t just make us a family, it would take some time for us to get serious and then we’d have to decide if that was the right step for us.”

“It is the right step! You guys like each other, and Jack and I get along…mommy it’s perfect! You could be Jack’s mom and Mr. Aaron could be my new dad.” Millie said matter-of-factly.

“Oh honey, is this about your dad?” You pulled Millie into a hug.

“No! He wasn’t nice to me like Mr. Aaron is. Mom I want Mr. Aaron to be my dad.” She whispered as tears stained her cheeks.

“I know honey, me too…me too.” You pressed a kiss to her head. “Baby lets go have some pizza and enjoy our time with Jack and Mr. Aaron, yeah?”

“Okay.”

That night, something shifted. Aaron and you had begun spending more time together, going to soccer practices and games together, taking the kids to the park, the movies, pottery painting places, dinner at your house, game night at his. Aaron had also exclusively been asking you to take Jack while he was away on cases – claiming Jess’ father was getting worse.

Two months passed like this, and things had started to feel very domestic. Millie was asking more and more about Jack being her brother and Aaron her father and you had to explain that even though they weren’t related, even by marriage, that friends could be considered family too.

Once again you were taking care of Jack while Aaron was out of town on a case, only this time it was a little different. Your car was in the shop, so Aaron had let you borrow his car, and today was the last day of school before winter break. The schoolyard was buzzing with anticipation of the final bell, parents were discussing their vacation plans with one another while waiting.

You has been talking to Scott and Michael when Becca approached you.

“You know, I think it’s a sick thing you’ve done, using your daughter to help you prey on a vulnerable man.” She hissed.

“Excuse me? What the hell are you talking about?” You shot back.

“Aaron. You had Millie befriend Jack and for what so you could trick Aaron into going out with you? It’s truly despicable behavior. He’s a good man and he deserves someone who is genuine.” Becca spewed.

“I don’t know where you get off, talking to me like that, but I can assure you – ”

“Becca, I’d really appreciate it if you didn’t speak to my girlfriend that way. She is the kindest most genuine person I have ever met, and every day she shows me how much she cares for and loves Jack and me. So back off, and maybe don’t speak on things you don’t know anything about.” Aaron bit as his arm snuck its way around your waist, pulling you flush against him.

“I KNEW IT!” Scott shouted.

Becca stormed off with a huff and you turned around to see Aaron wearing a shit eating grin. You couldn’t help but be overwhelmed with disbelief at the fact that Aaron was here right now, he’d stuck up for you, and he’d called you his girlfriend. Yeah, you were fairly sure your brain had short circuited.

“Girlfriend?” Your gaze lifted to meet his.

“You know, I’d been meaning to ask.” He grinned down at you. “What do you say?”

“Yes! Of course!”

Aaron closed the gap between you and captured your lips in a kiss. All the while the moms scoffed and huffed in disbelief that you truly had taken Aaron HOTTIE Hotchner off the market. And before you had a chance to pull away, Jack and Millie came bounding over just in time to catch the last bit of your kiss.

“Does this mean Mr. Aaron can finally be my dad?” Millie asked.

Aaron leaned down to Millie’s level “Mills, I would love nothing more than to be your dad, but we have to take things slow okay? Your mom and I have a lot of grown-up decisions to make before that can happen, so I need you to be patient. Can you do that for me?”

“I can do that!”

You leaned down in front of Jack, wanting to ensure he’s included in all this. “What do you think Jack? Would you be okay with me and your dad being together? It means you and Millie will be together a lot more often.”

“Will you eventually be my mom then?”

“If your dad and I choose to get married eventually, then yeah, I’d be your stepmom.” You explained.

“I think you’d be a really good mom.” Jack wrapped his arms around you.

Aaron and you may have only just made things official, but in the last five or so months, you’d both fallen for each other. Sometimes, things are just right, and all the pieces fall into place naturally. And for the first time in a long time, you couldn’t wait to see where this leads.

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chithereader · 1 month ago

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losing my cool / aaron hotchner

part 2 to playing it cool !!! hope you like it word count: 1.6k pairing: aaron hotchner x f!reader genre: angst at first, but fluff!!!!!! cw: more sickeningly sweet and soft aaron x reader, mentions of insecurities

The smile on Aaron’s face slowly fades as he takes in your frozen stance. You’re staring at him like he just shot you in the back and worry starts to fill him, “Honey..?” waving his hand in front of your face, hoping it would be enough to break you out of your stupor.

“Hello?” Still waving his hand in your face, your eyes darted to his. Your body is in a state of shock– in your mind, there’s a tiny version of you desperately digging her way out of a landslide of disbelief. Waves and waves of doubts and insecurities hindering you from processing what is happening.

Aaron watches as your mouth moves with barely any sound coming out. Like a fish out of water, you’re scrambling, “W-what?” That’s… a bit too shaky to be good.

He pauses to think. The doubts are starting to creep up on him.

Maybe he was too rash with his question.

Maybe that wasn’t the best way to spring it on you.

Maybe he should have waited for a better time.

Maybe he should have planned something.

Maybe she isn’t ready.

Maybe she just doesn’t want to marry me.

He tries hard to swallow all these dark thoughts, clearing his throat to fake the confidence that’s slowly diminishing, “I said, ‘Marry me.’” After he says those words again he stills, hoping that this time he’ll get an answer. And that.. it would be the answer he so badly wants.

But time slows down and his heart soon follows as he watches tears start to pool in your eyes. You’re shaking your head– they’re tiny shakes and you look panicked. This isn’t good. Not good at all.

He really wasn’t expecting this. It never occurred to him you’d say no. Or ..not yes. Aaron’s mind is running a million miles per hour. He doesn’t know what to do, or say. He barely even knows how he feels. And so he defaults to doing the one thing he does best (as a prosecutor at least): object.

This is triggered by your movement. You move around him, leaving the kitchen towards your living room. Your goal was to sit on the couch, craving some stability as your legs get weaker the more you’re processing what was asked, how you reacted, and how it could be coming across.

But Aaron’s legs are longer than yours. Before you even reach the couch, he’s holding your arm firmly and gently at the same time. He’s got that furrow in his brows that makes him look stern, but his eyes betray him as you can clearly see the worry in them.

“Well yes!” he says in disagreement. He doesn’t understand why you haven’t said yes, and as much as he isn’t the kind of man to ever force a lady into anything, a part of him is scared of what he’ll hear if he asks you why you’re not saying yes.

Though instead of allowing that fear to paralyze him, he allows it to control him. To bear its face because the softer, more rational part of him is hiding.

You’re avoiding his gaze, crossing your arms– you’re turning away from him. “No- Aaron, you– I don– I ca–”

You know he’s studying you. You can feel his eyes roaming your face, your neck, your body. He’s taking in everything he can because you’ve given him absolutely nothing so far. And oh how you wish you could voice it all out.

You just wish it was easy to say I don’t think I’m enough for you. What if you realize one day that I’m not good enough? Are you sure? Are you sure about this? About me? What if you start to want someone smarter? Prettier? Hotter? What if you want someone who is as accomplished or important as you? What if you get bored of me? What if–

You’re broken out of your thoughts when he suddenly straightens. He looks as if he’s realized something and the next thing you know you’re hit by a gust of wind because he’s running up the stairs.

Within an instant you run after him. A dozen scenarios are running through your head, the worst being Aaron packing your things because he’s going to ask you to leave. Your heart beats faster as you reach the top of the steps. You peek into your room and see him rummaging through drawers.

Your worries quiet significantly when you realize they’re his drawers. And just when you’re about to approach him, he turns around meeting you halfway. You’re both illuminated by the sunlight that’s coming through the bedroom window you’re standing in front of.

He’s still. He’s got a serious look on his face. You take him in, trying to read him but he’s got his profiler look on– unreadable and determined. His voice rattles you, “I’m sorry. That was a mistake.” Firm and devoid of any emotion.

Oh god.

You’re shaking your head, reaching to hold him by his arms. You start to cry, “Aaron please, that’s not what I–” but… he’s going down on one knee.

What?

He watched multiple emotions flicker on your face. Defeat, panic, confusion– “It was a mistake. I shouldn’t have said that. I– I planned to do it better than that. I don’t know why I let it slip out, you deserve better than that.”

Before you can process it, Aaron’s holding out a ring. He’s holding your hand in the other while tears are streaming down both your faces. You have no idea how you heard it but you guess it’s simply a testament to how attuned you are to him when he whispers, “Please, please, please. Will you marry me, honey?”

Time stops. Literally. You can feel your heart in your chest beating louder, heavier. It’s pounding as if begging to be heard. Begging to let Aaron know that it beats for him and him only. You’re lowering yourself to kneel before him. You want to see his face properly. His eyes. His nose. His lips. This is the man you love. This is the man you want to marry. Your eyes are simply capturing every angle of this moment.

You’re leveled now. Equals. You grab both his hands in yours and you stare into his brown eyes. You want him to know you mean it, as you nod your head slowly and breathe out, “Yes.” A smile breaks across his face, tears starting to stream again.

You watch him as he tries to put the ring on your finger, getting it on the first try even if his sight is slightly hindered by his tears of happiness and relief. The sun makes the ring sparkle, catching your attention and you look at it properly for the first time.

It’s beautiful. Aaron would argue that the stone screams you – grace, loyalty, peace. He catches your eye and the both of you start to smile. You start to giggle, wrapping your arms around his neck while his arms snake around your waist.

He buries his head in your neck, breathing in your scent while silently thanking the heavens for granting him this. You break apart, startled to hear tiny footsteps nearing. The both of you start to stand up from the floor, straightening yourselves out and wiping the remaining tears staining your faces.

You both look to the door, waiting for the little boy to show himself. You hear a soft knock right before the door opens slowly, a head peeking in, “Daddy?”

Aaron goes to the door, opening it more for Jack to come in. The little boy goes straight to you and you pick him up in your arms with ease, resting him on your hip. You have your left hand holding him stable, and even though the little boy’s still groggy with sleep he notices the sparkling addition to your hand.

You take notice of how his little face lights up in excitement and you have no idea what about it he understands, “I help Daddy buy you that!” His voice is full of pride, genuinely proud that he had played a part in picking.

You’re confused, not fully understanding what Jack means. Looking to Aaron for an answer, you’re surprised to find him blushing. He looks shy and he’s shrugging at you but you can tell he’s trying hard to play it cool. The smile fighting its way on his face betrays him.

You decide to take your chance on the adorable kid that is now fiddling with your ring, watching in amazement at how much it’s twinkling in the light. Children are the most honest people you know anyway. Pursing your lips with squinted eyes, you investigate “What do you mean, bubba?”

“Daddy asked me what ring pop you want, so I asked you when we watched Spiderman and you said your favorite is the green one so I tell Daddy you want the green one!”

Your heart stutters and the tears start coming in again. Aaron asking Jack for his opinion for your engagement ring. Jack thinking it's a ring pop. Jack asking for your favorite ring pop flavor. Jack being proud that you got the ring you want, pop or not.

Brought out of your thoughts by Jack wanting to leave your hold, you put him down. You watch as he happily walks out of your room, presumably to go to the kitchen. You look at Aaron again, and just as you’re about to say something about what you just found out, you realize one thing. Spiderman.

You gasp. Covering your mouth in surprise, you slap his arm lightly, “That was our third date!”

Aaron laughs loudly, rushing out of the room before you can throw questions at him or even comments about how insane he is. He couldn’t care less. He was right.

a/n: just want to say thank you so much for the love and support i've been getting for my hotch fics!! as someone who's new here, it all means so much to me <33 i recently made a masterlist as i plan to write so much more and branch out to other characters i've been perpetually in love with!! leave requests of what you want to read or characters i can write about, i'd love to write for you guys ◡̈ tagging the people who wanted a part 2 for this: @pear-1206 @dedicatedfangirl2001 u guys are so sweet

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trizlette · 6 months ago

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Just thinking about how much Spencer Reid would have loved teaching his kids (or just the kids of the BAU) about the REAL fairy tales. Like this man info dumps about everything you know he’s going to be ranting about the explicit death of Hansel and Gretal’s witch and how they actually turned her into a pie and ate her along with the rest of her house. Or the fact that Rapunzel’s prince had his eyes gorged out and she didn’t have “magic” hair to fix it. And the kids are all into it; like I imagine toddler Jack and Henry sitting on the carpet in front of him and he’s holding his little girl and instead of crying they’re all asking him questions.

“Uncle Spence what happened to Pinocchio’s cricket after Pinocchio grabbed the hammer?”

“Dad when you say Cinderella’s sisters’ eyes were plucked out did the nice birdies eat them?”

And all the parents are horrified when they read the kids like baby fairy tales and they start correcting them like Spencer does

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hoe4hotchner · 1 month ago

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I have an idea for a Hotch story. What about its 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”

Safe and Sound | [A.H]

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x wife!Reader | WC: 0.7k | CW: Could probably be qualified as post partum, anxiety, lack of sleep.

A/N: I tried my hardest to write this with Jack as the baby, but ultimately I had to make it into a new baby unrelated to Jack, cause my brain couldn't wrap around reader having given birth to Jack. Otherwise it follows the prompt…. Hope it's okay <3

The soft glow of the nightlight bathed the nursery in a warm amber hue as you hovered over the crib. The rhythmic sound of the baby monitor buzzed faintly in the background, but it wasn’t enough to ease your mind. Your hand rested lightly on your son’s tiny chest, feeling the gentle rise and fall from his breathing. Six months in, and every nap, every bedtime, still filled you with a quiet kind of dread.

What if the monitor failed? What if something happened while you weren’t watching? The what-ifs buzzed louder than the monitor, it was a relentless echo that kept you tethered to the edge of fear no matter how safe or serene he looked in his sleep.

The creak of the nursery door broke your focus, pulling your gaze away from your son’s chest. Aaron’s silhouette filled the doorway, his broad shoulders casting a shadow into the softly lit room. He was only wearing a plain white t-shirt and a pair of boxers, the casualness of his attire contrasting with his usual suit and tie. His arms were crossed loosely over his chest, and his dark eyes softened as they took you in, concern etching faint lines across his face. A frown tugged at the corners of his mouth, not in irritation but in worry.

“Sweetheart,” he said softly, careful not to wake the baby. “You need to sleep.”

“I’m fine,” you whispered back, brushing your fingertips over your son’s soft, silky hair. You lingered, reluctant to leave. “I just needed to check.”

Aaron stepped into the room, his feet silent against the carpet. “You’ve checked three times in the past hour,” he said gently, his hand finding the small of your back. “Come back to bed.”

You sighed, looking down at your baby boy one last time before letting Aaron guide you out of the nursery. The two of you walked in silence to your bedroom, his hand never leaving you as if to anchor you to him so you wouldn't run back to the nursery. When you climbed into bed, Aaron slid in beside you, propping himself up on one elbow to face you.

“This isn’t just a new mom thing, is it?” he asked, his voice low and careful, treading lightly as he spoke. “You’ve barely been sleeping. You’re running yourself into the ground.”

You froze, staring at the ceiling as tears burned behind your eyes. He was right — he always was. But admitting it felt like opening a floodgate you weren’t sure you could close.

“I just…” Your voice cracked, and Aaron shifted closer. “I need to make sure he’s okay.”

“He is okay,” Aaron said, his thumb brushing softly over your cheek. “He’s perfect. And you’re an amazing mom.”

The dam broke. The tears spilled over as a sob escaped your lips. “I never know if you’re coming home to me,” you choked out, your hands gripping his t-shirt as though he might disappear. “So I need to make sure the baby is okay. I need to know I’ll always have a piece of you with me.”

Aaron’s breath hitched, his face falling as your words sank in. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his chest as he kissed the top of your head. “Sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion, “I’m so sorry you feel like that.”

You clung to him, his steady heartbeat soothing some of the ache in your chest. “I can’t lose you, Aaron. Or him. I wouldn’t survive it.”

“You won’t lose us,” he promised, his lips brushing your temple. “I’ll do everything I can to come home to you, every time. And I’ll make sure you’re never carrying this alone.”

For a long time, he just held you. As your sobs quieted, he eased you back down onto the pillows, still holding your hand.

“Tomorrow, we’ll figure this out,” Aaron said softly. “We’ll talk to someone and find ways to help you rest. But tonight, let me watch over him so you can sleep. Okay?”

You nodded, your exhaustion finally catching up to you as his words and touch began to pull you under. “Okay,” you whispered.

And as you drifted off in Aaron’s arms, for the first time in months, you felt the weight begin to lift — getting help was not such a bad idea after all.

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thewulf · 10 months ago

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Through the Years || Aaron Hotchner

Summary: Request - Aaron Hotchner x reader, It will be like 2 moments in different years... like the first time little Jack is comfortable enough around reader to call her mom... and the other one teen Jack not taking her grounding while Aaron is away and screamimg at her something like "You are not my mom"... Read Rest Here

A/N: This was tough to write. But overall very sweet. We love a good teenage melton.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader, Jack Hotchner x Stepmom Reader

Word Count: 2.8k

TW: Yelling, intentional hurt, Jack being mean lol

Year Six: Jack’s Question

The gentle hum of the air conditioner filled the cozy living room as you and Jack sat together on the couch, surrounded by an array of colorful crafting supplies scattered across the coffee table. Glue sticks, markers, and construction paper formed a creative mess as the two of you worked on a project together, a rare moment of tranquility in the chaotic life of an FBI agent's family.

As you guided Jack through the steps of creating a handmade card for his grandmother's birthday, you couldn't help but notice the way he looked up at you with a mixture of admiration and affection. His small hands moved with determination, mirroring your own movements as you carefully cut out paper hearts and glued them onto the card letting him guide how he wanted the card to turn out.

"Y/N?" Jack's voice broke through the soft hum of conversation, tentative and uncertain. He shifted back and forth on the couch letting whatever was on his mind eat away at him for the time being.

As Jack's voice broke through the soft hum of the television on, you turned your attention back to him. He looked so nervous that you could only put the supplies down and focus solely on him. "Yeah, Jack?" you replied, your voice soft and encouraging.

Jack shifted nervously beside you, his brow furrowing as he wrestled with his words. You could see the uncertainty flickering in his eyes, the weight of his question heavy on his young shoulders.

"Can I... can I call you Mom?" His voice was barely above a whisper, filled with hesitation and longing.

Your breath caught in your throat at his words, your heart soaring with joy and disbelief. It was a moment you had dreamed of, hoped for, but never dared to expect. Not so soon anyway. You and Aaron had been seeing each other for just over a year. And yet, here it was, unfolding before you in the most unexpected of moments.

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you gazed at Jack, overwhelmed by the depth of emotion welling up inside you. You wanted to gather him into your arms, to hold him close and never let him go, to shower him with all the love and affection he deserved. But you also knew that this moment was about him, about his courage in voicing his feelings, his desire to forge a deeper connection with you. And so, you swallowed past the lump in your throat, your smile widening with genuine warmth and love.

"Of course, you can, sweetheart," you whispered, your voice trembling with emotion. "I would be honored."

As the words left your lips, a weight seemed to lift from Jack's shoulders, his face breaking into a radiant smile that mirrored your own. In that moment, surrounded by the remnants of your crafting adventure, you felt a profound connection form between you, one that transcended blood ties and was forged by love and mutual respect.

Jack let out a sigh of relief, his smile widening as he leaned into your embrace. "Good, Daddy said I could," he explained, his voice filled with a mix of excitement and validation.

Your heart swelled with warmth at his words, grateful for Aaron's support and understanding. It meant the world to you that he had encouraged Jack to express his feelings, to embrace the bond that had grown between you. "Your daddy is a smart man," you replied, your voice tinged with affection as you ruffled Jack's hair affectionately. "And he's right. You can call me mom whenever you want. You can also call me Y/N. Whatever you want kiddo."

Jack beamed up at you, his eyes sparkling with happiness as he settled back into his seat, a sense of contentment settling over him like a comforting blanket. In that moment, it felt as though the world had shifted, the connection between you and Jack deepening with each passing second. And as you returned to your crafting project, your hearts overflowing with love and gratitude, you knew that this was just the beginning of a beautiful journey together.

Year Fifteen: Teenage Turmoil

The soft glow of the lamp illuminated Aaron Hotchner's cluttered desk as he typed away on his laptop, the faint clicking of keys the only sound in the otherwise quiet house. It was Friday night, the end of a long week, but for Aaron, the work was far from over. His eyes flickered to the clock, noting the late hour. Jack should have been home by now, safely tucked into bed. Anxiety gnawed at him as he tried Jack's number once more, only to be met with the unwelcome sound of voicemail. He would give it until 12:30 then he was going to be calling Penelope to locate his young son. He didn’t want to be overbearing but he couldn’t help it. Not with what he’s seen, what he’s had to deal with.

In the living room, you paced back and forth, your heart pounding with worry. Each passing minute felt like an eternity. With every unanswered call, your concern grew tenfold. The clock on the wall mocked you, its hands moving relentlessly towards midnight. You too knew how dangerous it was out there. But you couldn’t lock the kid in. He’d resent the both of you for the rest of his days if you did that.

Finally, the creak of the front door announced Jack's return. Relief flooded through you, quickly replaced by a surge of frustration as you caught sight of his nonchalant expression. "Jack, do you have any idea what time it is?" you exclaimed, unable to keep the edge from your voice.

Jack's eyes flickered to you, irritation flashing in their depths before he masked it with a careless shrug. "Relax, I lost track of time," he retorted, tossing his jacket aside without any regard for how stressed both you and his father were.

Your temper flared. "You were supposed to be home over an hour ago! Do you have any idea how worried we were?" As Aaron remained in his office, you and Jack were left to confront each other alone, the tension between you palpable.

He shrugged again before attempting to make a break for his room.

"Jack, please," you implored, your voice trembling with concern. "We need to talk about what happened tonight. It's not just about breaking curfew; it's about communication and respect."

Jack's eyes narrowed, his arms crossing defensively over his chest. "I don't need a lecture, Y/N. I'm not a kid anymore."

Your heart sank at his dismissive tone, but you refused to back down. "I know you're growing up, but that doesn't mean you can disregard the rules we've set. They're there for a reason, Jack. We worry about you when you're out late, especially when we can't reach you."

He scoffed, rolling his eyes. "You worry too much. I can take care of myself."

Your frustration bubbled to the surface. Your voice tinged with emotion. "It's not just about taking care of yourself, Jack. There are awful people out there and…”

Jack's demeanor shifted, his expression hardening with defiance. "You're not my mom, Y/N. You don't get to tell me what to do."

His words cut deep, a pang of hurt flashing across your features. "I know I'm not your biological mother, but I love you like you're my own," you admitted, your voice wavering with emotion certainly not expecting the conversation to take such a turn so quickly.

Jack's jaw clenched, his anger simmering beneath the surface. "Yeah, right. You're just trying to control me like everyone else. Well, news flash, it's not gonna work."

Your heart shattered at his harsh words, the weight of his rejection crushing you. "I'm not trying to control you, Jack. I just want what's best for you," you pleaded, tears welling in your eyes despite your best efforts to push them away.

But Jack's frustration boiled over, his voice rising with each word. "Stop pretending like you know what's best for me! You're not my freaking mom! You can't tell me what to do!"

As Jack's explosive words hung in the air, a heavy silence descended upon the room, filling the space with tension and uncertainty. Your heart felt as though it had been squeezed tight in your chest, the sting of Jack's rejection still raw.

A gasp came from your mouth as you tried to form any sort of coherent sentence. "Oh, I'm... I..." you began, your voice faltering as you struggled to find the right words. But your mind was a whirlwind of emotions, and you found yourself at a loss.

Jack's eyes widened, a flicker of realization crossing his features as he took in the impact of his own words. For a moment, he seemed unsure, caught between his anger and the weight of what he had just said. And then, as if sensing the weight of the moment, Aaron appeared in the doorway. His expression a mix of concern and disappointment. His presence seemed to ground the room, his steady gaze sweeping over you and Jack.

"What's going on here?" Aaron's voice was calm but firm, his eyes never leaving yours. He saw the watery tears that threatened to spill over at any second. He heard the tail end of the conversation and knew exactly why you were so devastated. You saw Jack as your own child and for him to say something so deeply hurtful left you reeling.

You struggled to compose yourself, the turmoil of emotions threatening to overwhelm you. "Jack... he... I don’t… I need to go," you managed to say, your voice barely above a whisper. Without waiting for a response, you turned and fled towards the kitchen, unable to even look at your stepson or Aaron in that moment. You felt utterly embarrassed. Like you hadn’t been loving that child for the last ten years of his life. Did he really feel like that or was he just lashing out?

In the living room, Aaron's expression darkened, his jaw clenched with restrained anger as he watched you leave. The weight of Jack's hurtful words hung heavy in the air, casting a shadow over their father-son relationship.

Jack shifted uncomfortably; his eyes fixed on the ground as guilt gnawed at him. "Dad, I didn't mean..."

But Aaron's patience had worn thin with his moody son. "Not now, Jack," he interrupted, his tone stern. "Right now, I need you to think about what you said and why it was completely unacceptable."

Jack swallowed hard, the gravity of his actions sinking in as he met his father's unwavering gaze. "I know, Dad. I messed up," he admitted, his voice tinged with remorse.

Aaron's frustration boiled over, his voice taking on the commanding tone he used when interrogating suspects. "You think you can just say whatever you want and there won't be consequences? You hurt her, Jack. You hurt someone who cares about you deeply, and I won't stand for it."

Jack's eyes widened, the full weight of his actions crashing down on him as he met his father's intense gaze. "I-I'm sorry, Dad. I didn't mean to..."

But Aaron cut him off with a sharp gesture. "Apologies won't cut it this time, Jack. You need to understand the gravity of your words and the impact they have on people." As Aaron continued to reprimand his son, he couldn't shake the worry gnawing at him. He knew he had to find you, to make sure you were alright. With a final stern look at Jack, he turned on his heel and headed towards the kitchen, his footsteps heavy with concern.

As he entered the kitchen, his heart sank at the sight before him. There you were, hunched over on the floor, your shoulders shaking with sobs. Without hesitation, Aaron crossed the room and knelt beside you, gathering you into his arms.

"Hey, hey, it's okay," he murmured softly, his voice a soothing balm against the storm raging within you. "You're alright, I've got you." Aaron felt a pang of anguish as he held you, his heart breaking at the depth of your pain. Gently, he lifted your chin, guiding your tear-filled eyes to meet his own.

"Honey," he whispered, his voice filled with tenderness. "Listen to me. You may not be Jack's biological mother, but you are his mom in every sense of the word."

You shook your head weakly, unable to comprehend his words through the haze of your despair. "But I-I..."

"No buts," Aaron interrupted, his tone firm but gentle. "Every day, in every action, every moment of love and care you've shown him, you've proven yourself to be his mother. You've been there for him, supported him, loved him unconditionally. That's what a mom does. That’s what you are, sweetheart.”

Tears welled in your eyes as his words washed over you, a glimmer of hope piercing through the darkness of your despair. "But Jack said..."

Aaron's expression softened, his thumb gently wiping away your tears. "Jack was angry and confused. He didn't mean what he said. And even if he did, it doesn't change the truth. You are his mother, my love, in every way that matters."

As his words sank in, a sense of warmth enveloped you, the weight of your anguish easing with each beat of your heart. In Aaron's arms, you found solace, reassurance, and a renewed sense of purpose. You leaned against Aaron's chest, letting the last of your tears fall, a sense of peace washed over you. His comforting presence wrapped you up in his warm embrace, grounding you in the certainty that together you’d be just fine. “Thank you.” You whispered as he held you in his embrace.

Aaron held you close, his hold on you a silent promise of unwavering support and love. "Anytime, honey," he murmured, his voice a soothing melody in the midst of chaos. "We'll get through this together."

Just then, the sound of footsteps echoed in the kitchen, and you looked up to see Jack standing in the doorway, tears glistening in his eyes. His expression was wrought with guilt and remorse as he hesitated, unsure of how to approach you.

"Y/N," he began, his voice choked with emotion. "I-I'm so sorry. I didn't mean what I said. I just wanted to hurt you, but I didn't mean it. I didn’t mean it at all, I promise. I need you! You are my mom! Please don't leave me." His words came out quickly as he wiped away his own tears.

Your heart shattered at Jack's raw confession, the depth of his pain washing over you like a tidal wave. Without hesitation, you opened your arms, inviting him into the embrace. Aaron backed off letting the situation between the two most important people in his life play out.

Jack rushed over and threw his larger frame right into your arms You wrapped him up tightly as he let his own cries out. The weight of his own words crashing down on him in the instant he saw how much he had hurt you. He was just a kid, of course you could forgive him. "It's okay, Jack," you whispered, your voice breaking with emotion. "I know you didn't mean it. I love you so much. I'm not going anywhere."

“I can’t lose you too.” He let out a whimpered cry breaking your heart even further.

Tears streamed down your own cheeks as you held Jack close, the weight of his words settling over you. "You’ll never lose me, Jackie," you reassured him, using his old nickname, a sign of the deep love you two shared for each other. "I'm here for you, always. Always and forever kiddo."

Jack's sobs began to subside as he clung to you, finding exactly what he needed in your embrace. "I love you. I’m so sorry." he whispered again. His voice filled with sincerity.

A small smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you gently pulled away to look into his eyes. "I love you too, Jack. It’s okay. I forgive you." You said again, reassuring him.

He nodded, relief flooding his features as he buried his face in your arms once more, the weight of guilt slowly lifting from his shoulders. "You are one of the best things that's ever happened to me," you continued, your voice filled with warmth and affection. "Other than your father," you added with a playful grin, feeling Jack's chuckle rumble against your side. He gave you one more squeeze before pulling away. The remorse still heavy on his face. Carefully, you brushed the stray tears away from his face showing him the love that the both of you needed.

As Aaron joined you both in the kitchen, his presence a reassuring anchor, you shared a smile, knowing that no matter what life threw your way, you would be okay. For truly these two were the best things that had ever happened to you.

Request Taglist: @fictionallifestuff

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