#ssa hotchner

[mrs-weasley-reid]

SUIT JACKET

Aaron Hotchner x bau!reader ↳ part 2 here

Sypnosis: Aaron Hotchner seems to love his suit jacket on you. WARNING: nothing besides a few curses (I think) A/N: not my gif, ctto! This was also sitting on my drafts for almost a year and barely proofread, so I apologize for the errors.

Sunday, March 11, 2:04 AM

"Thanks, unibrow." You grinned drunkenly, smiling at your boss, SSA Aaron Hotchner, as you collapsed in the cab's backseat. His suit jacket kept you cozy and covered like a cocoon while you comfortably giggled at the applied inside joke of his new nickname.

With Penelope's constant peer pressure, your inhibition has reached rock bottom eleven shots, five cocktails, and two whiskey glasses ago. You downed liquor like water, easing your stiff shoulders.

Aaron only stared at you with the same impassive face he had and shut the door before the cold caught you. He hunched in front of the driver's window, "This woman is a federal agent, and if something happens to her, I'll hunt you down. Please, drive her home safely." He straightened back up, casually tapping the vehicle's roof.

The cab took you away only after Aaron snapped a picture of the cab's plate number. He sighed as the vehicle slowly disappeared from his line of sight. He twisted on the balls of his feet, met by his other children, agents drunkenly calling his name.

Tuesday, March 27, 10:14 AM

You scurried out of the elevator, weaving through the sea of agents in the bullpen and then to the conference room where everybody was already settled in.

"So sorry! There was this son of a b—" You closed your eyes and breathed deeply, clenching your fists. Then, you exhaled profoundly with a calm smile at the end. "I got in a car accident. Go on, Pen. Sorry for interrupting." You took a seat between Aaron and JJ.

JJ turned to you, "Are you okay?" Her hand gently landed on one of yours, giving you a worried squeeze.

You gathered a smile and raised a thumb, "Thick skull and strong bones. Nothing can break me, not even this unsub... whoa—" Your eyes widened a bit.

How ironic for your case to be about an unsub who performed a craniotomy on the victims. You smiled awkwardly, the similar tight-lipped smile that Spencer would always plaster on his face.

The other agents coughed a chuckle at your reaction while Penelope continued the debrief with the same horrified look.

Upon listening to the case details, you slowly felt colder, subtly rubbing the sides of your shoulders. You were so caught up in your anger towards the guy that rear-ended you you could've sworn your body was overheating. You left your blazer somewhere and were sure it wasn't in your wrecked car.

"Alright, wheels up in 30," Aaron announced, sending everyone to get out of their seats and grab their go bags and snapping you off your trance in the process.

You rushed to collect your file copy and headed for the door but halted when Aaron called you. You pivoted on your heels, "Yes?"

He was taking off his jacket, handing it to you as soon as it peeled off his body.

"I don't think dry cleaning your suit is part of my job description, Sir." You kidded as you stared at his black jacket.

Aaron rolled his eyes. It was so rare that you had to blink twice to ensure you didn't have a concussion from your minor car accident. "You're cold." He wasn't asking, plainly stating your slight predicament.

Your eyebrows knitted, mouth slightly opened. And as if the universe was mocking you, a sudden draft slapped you in a shiver. You snatched his jacket and mumbled a small thank you.

As you walked out of the conference room, teasing eyes bore holes into your being. Each BAU team member's narrowed brows held you captive, and their loud thoughts rang in your ears. You ignored all of it, though, taming your anxiety with the warmth of Aaron's jacket.

Wednesday, April 13, 1:37 PM

"Garcia, look for old cases with one young boy as a survivor." Aaron started, listing each task that everyone was to complete.

You were so focused on the case that your next movement caught you off guard.

Your back snapped straight from the slap of Minnesota air. It was brief. An officer merely opened and closed the door, but your body was nowhere near as warm as it was a few seconds ago.

The warmth of cotton fabric soon hugged your shoulders, along with the momentary weight of Aaron's hands, before he fully let go of his suit jacket.

He continued talking as if what he had just done was normal or anything close to casualty, "Morgan and Reid, try speaking with the victim's family one more time."

Emily exchanged looks with JJ, conversing silently while you obliviously sipped your coffee.

Friday, May 2, 5:04PM

"Capital O-M-G!" Penelope squealed, drumming on your shoulders as soon as she came close.

"Garcia, breathe," JJ gently placed her hands on Penelope's shoulders, modeling a regular breathing pattern.

Emily gave you a look as she sipped her coffee, which you returned with a shrug. Penelope was ever so eccentric. You've gotten used to it over the years you've been with the team.

"Okay, okay, okay. I'm good. Just that— I was— Ugh! Look!" Penelope shoved her phone in your face.

You saw a blinding blur, forcing out a sarcastic, "Wow! I can definitely see."

Luckily, JJ took it to herself to pull Penelope's phone away from messing up your eyesight and looked at the image plastered on the screen. A smirk immediately covered her lips, "Oh."

"What is it? Let me see—" Emily walked behind JJ. Her jaw dropped not long after. "Anything you want to tell us?" She cooed as she gave you the widest grin she had ever flashed, at least for that morning.

Your eyebrows clashed, and your forehead creased, "Whatever are you on about?"

"You're telling us nothing's happening between you and a guy?" Emily's grin only widened. You wondered how wide it could get, terrifying you in the process.

JJ flipped the phone to your end. The brightness of the screen stung your eyes a bit. "Want to explain this?"

Photo: It looked like the picture was cropped because you saw Derek's arm around you, but he was nowhere to be found in the image. Aaron's jacket was around your shoulders while he was behind you, glaring at Derek's arm.

"What about it?" The confusion was solid in your voice. However, you had a bit of an idea of what the three of them were insinuating.

Penelope stepped closer to you, "Uhuh, sure," she started as she zoomed in on the picture. "You're telling me you can't see Hotch's jacket on your shoulders, let alone Hotch glaring at my chocolate thunder?"

"He let me borrow his jacket because I was cold. Doesn't he always do that with everyone?" You innocently asked, looking at each one of them.

"Still doesn't explain him glaring at Derek." Emily chimed in a teasing tone, wiggling her eyebrows.

Your eyes widened, "You think Hotch was mad at me because I took it? He offered it to me, and I was cold. You think he was just being polite or?"

Penelope rolled her eyes and aimed her fluffy pen at you, "You oblivious profiler! He's jealous!"

"Uh-no," You chuckled.

"You don't believe me? Look at this."

Photo: This photo was older than the first one and might've been your third or fourth year with the BAU team. It seemed like all of you had just ended a case. You were snuggled on the couch on the jet. Aaron was draping his jacket over you.

"Who took that picture?" You queried.

Penelope raised her hand, "I was going to check in on everyone, then the camera spotted it, and I took a screenshot because I couldn't help myself. I was going to tease you about it but forgot for a very, very, very, very long time until I saw that picture from our last team night out." She wiggled her eyebrows, a playful smile on her lips.

"Looks like our boss has a favorite," JJ sang softly, looking at you with a knowing smile.

Emily nudged you, noticing the blush on your face. "You've gotta admit that's very sweet of Hotch. I think he likes you wearing his jacket." She teased, poking your sides.

"He does that to everyone, though," You reasoned. If you recall, he had offered his jacket to many people before.

"Nope, no!" Penelope shook her head vigorously with a tight lip. "He offers it to some but gives it to you."

"We had a case where it was biting cold outside. Hotch offered to help me if I needed a jacket. I said no because of politeness and shit, but he didn't insist. He didn't even offer his jacket. He offered to give me time to return to my room and grab my jacket." Emily grimaced, obviously still holding a grudge regarding the incident.

"I've known Hotch for years. Giving out his jacket was only for emergencies. If it's the only choice he had. We've had cases where a victim was a little too exposed, and his solution was to wrap them with the newspaper he conveniently found." JJ exclaimed, sorting the manila folders on her chest.

You gave it some thought and considered every possibility, but you shook your head. "He's just being nice because he's my boss. Plus, I'm still a bit tense around the team." You straightened yourself, fixing your top.

Emily cackled, "Getting flat-out drunk with us is definitely you still a bit tense around us."

"You know what I mean," You defended, blushing.

The three exchanged looks and shrugged. If you wanted to turn a blind eye, then it was your choice. But they had a perfect theory and tried to test it out.

Aaron was heading to the elevator as you exited the bullpen. The three of them grinned.

"Going for girls night?" Aaron quipped, raising his eyebrows.

JJ frowned, "We were, but she's feeling sick. I think the cold's getting to her." She gave you a pitiful hug.

Your eyes blew wide, jerking your head behind you where the other two stood with maniac grins. You knew what JJ was doing. It didn't take a second for you to figure it out. And as if luck was on their side, the elevator dinged.

You followed their figures as they piled in in the lift. You glared at them, but Emily focused on the man beside you.

You gazed at Aaron and were met with his jacket stretched out to you. Your mouth fell open, unable to breathe.

"It's cold outside this time of night. You'll feel worse if you don't layer up." Aaron cleared his throat, "Take it."

You reached for his jacket so slowly that he took it in himself to wrap it around your shoulders. "Thank you," Your voice quivered, hesitantly stepping inside the elevator.

He followed, standing beside you. You could feel the three devils behind you, preparing yourself for their constant teasing.

Unbeknownst to any of you, Aaron was holding his breath in the hopes that none of you would notice his blushing ears.

Monday, May 16, 8:12PM

The entire day has been a drag. Besides the unsub being disgustingly great at hiding his tracks in the safety of your local area, your stomach had been giving you the worst time of your life.

Later in the evening, in Aaron's orders, everyone was sent home to get some rest and start fresh the next day.

You were thankful. You needed to rest from all the stomach-emptying vomit you did in the restroom. Your acid reflux was having a field day and didn't let you get a breath. You practically lived in the toilet. You even had to call Derek and ask him to put you on speaker so you could contribute to finding the unsub. Luckily, they didn't question it.

Emily retracted away as she exited your hug, "Are you sure you don't want me to give you a ride home? We practically live in this building. I don't think they'd mind you leaving your car here for a night."

A warm smile brightened your drained face, "Yes, I'm sure. Thanks for the offer." You bid her one last goodbye before heading to your own car.

Your head was down as the day's exhaustion finally caught up. Your senses were off. You walked as if time stopped. You wondered if you should've taken advantage of Emily's offer.

With your loud thoughts and vulnerable senses, a heart attack almost killed you when a sudden cage of warmth engulfed your body. For a moment, your body wanted to fight, but it didn't take long for you to remember the familiarity of this warmth.

"What took you so long?" His voice was gentle and comforting enough to put you to sleep immediately.

You looked up at Aaron, who refused to unwrap his arms around you, "I didn't know you were waiting. I thought you went home already. Isn't Jack waiting for you? It's movie night."

Aaron smiled, "I'm taking you to the hospital to get checked. Captain Jack's orders."

You couldn't help but smile as well. He held the door for the passenger seat before jumping to the driver's seat. As you watched him go around, you noticed his scent lingered on your shoulders.

Aaron placed his jacket on yours.

"You ought to be careful," A chuckle passed your lips, "The gals are onto you."

"Why?" Aaron looked at you with a confused expression. His face made you giggle. The genuineness of his expression made you wonder his reaction if you had said the same thing two years ago.

A grin glistened on your face, "They say Agent Hotchner has a crush on me." Your voice danced with playfulness.

Aaron copied your grin and shrugged, "I'm surprised they haven't figured it out after all these years." He turned his body to face you, "So? Do you like him back?"

If only the BAU team knew how their unit chief, the SSA Aaron Hotchner, was a lot friskier than they perceived him to be, Aaron wouldn't last a day from all the teasing.

Then you wondered how the BAU team would react if they found out you and Aaron have been dating for the past two years and successfully kept it a secret from everyone except Strauss and Rossi.

Or the number of questions you'd be bombarded with when they learn that you recently moved in together with Aaron and Jack. You knew well enough that the ladies would be interrogating you like a serial killer.

You shrugged, "I heard he's got a fiancée." You fished the necklace well hidden under your shirt. A golden ring band shaped like vines with an oval-cut blue moon diamond dangled on the chain.

"Yeah..." Aaron held your hand and placed a soft kiss on the back of it, "You wouldn't want to be in the way of that." He smiled widely, an ever-loving expression you indulged yourself with for the past two years and soon... for a lifetime.

[mariasont]

Office Sleepover 3 - A.H

a/n: yeehaw this took me way longer than i thought but here she be

i feel like im so ass at writing smut so just bear with me yall

masterlist

‧₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧

part one here! part two here!

pairings: aaron hotchner x fem!reader

summary: in which reader gets put on a hit-list and has to stay in the office (kind of based off when penelope got put on a hit-list by the dirty dozen)

warnings: 18+ MDNI, hungover reader, unwanted attention from some rando, awk as fuck reader, fingering, dirty talk, doing the dirty in the office, definitely illegal, definitely probably caught on cameras

wc: 4.2k

Everything hurt--your stomach churned, your head throbbed, and your eyes burned. You squeezed them shut, feeling your body tense against the stiff fabric of the pull-out couch. Fists curled tightly, you gradually let your eyelids part, casting a slow, sweeping glance around the room, trying to piece together what the hell happened.

Pain hammered around the inside of your head. You desperately needed a hefty dose of Advil--ten at least. As though your mind had materialized them, you rolled over to discover a bottle and a glass of water on the nightstand. You assumed you had JJ to thank, though the certainty of that was as fuzzy as your thoughts. Each effort to reconstruct last night's events was a stab to your already excruciating migraine.

You had all your clothes on, that was a plus considering your notorious history with wine and stripping. Stripping. Your hand slapped over your mouth, a floodgate of recollections bursting through--calling Hotch in a wine-induced haze, flashing your tits, asking him to stay.

You were in full-blown panic mode, the sudden urge to throw up clawing at your throat. The bed was empty, save for yourself, but you vividly remember Hotch laying down with you. This only left two possibilities: he left after you fell asleep or it had been a figment of your imagination. You were desperately hoping it was the latter.

But clearly, the universe had its own plan, because there he was, leaning against the door frame, a steaming cup of coffee in one hand and a paper bag that, by the smell of it, contained greasy food.

With a throat like sandpaper and sweaty palms, you met your boss's gaze. "Hotch," you croaked, pausing to swallow. "Um, good morning--or is it? My sleep schedule's always off after drinking. It feels bright in here, right? It's also kinda hot, is the AC working?"

You impulsively rose from the bed, a decision you instantly regretted as the room seemed to spin around you in protest.

"Sit down," he commanded, a firmness in his voice that brooked no opposition, and you promptly sat your ass back down, watching him with an expectant look.

You attempted to read his face, but it was a blank slate, making you that much more nervous. He must hate you, you figured, because you certainly hated yourself. Your boss had seen your nipples. A wave of heat washed over you, and you clenched your eyes shut, as if that could make this situation disappear.

"Here," he said, handing you the coffee and the bag, then gesturing to the Advil on the counter. "Take that, and I know you might not feel like eating, but it's necessary. The food and coffee will stabilize your blood sugar levels."

"Right, yeah, course," you nod, accepting the items with shaky hands, holding the cup with a grip that's a little too firm. "Listen, sir, I'm really sorry about last night. I promise I don't usually drink that much. I don't even know how I got that drunk, and I know I acted completely inappropriate towards you. If you need to file a complaint, I understand. Again, I'm just so sorry..."

You wanted to cry, but you held it back, knowing it would only make this whole situation worse. You deliberately avoided his eyes, focusing on anything but him while you absentmindedly toyed with the breakfast sandwich in your hands.

After a moment, he releases a soft sigh, the mattress sinking slightly as he settled beside you, his knee gently knocking yours.

"I'm aware this week's been tough on you. It's, uh, clear you weren't thinking straight, and I'm not about to make a formal issue out of a slip-up."

Your head dipped, as you tried to fend off the rising warmth in your face. "I don't think I can ever look you in the eyes again."

"That feels dramatic," he pointed out, a chuckle in his voice that made you glance his way. "Trust me, it's already forgotten."

That was a lie. He may have lacked Reid's eidetic abilities, but there was no possible, imaginative way that he would forget the image of you topless--it was imprinted in his memory. In fact, it had become the sole focus of his thoughts ever since. He silently thanked the gods that it was a Saturday, and he didn't have any pressing work issues.

"Somehow, that's not very comforting," you replied, a suppressed giggle breaking through as you met his gaze. "So, did you, um, end up staying over?"

Your cheeks glowed with a soft pink, hands unconsciously smoothing over your thighs--a nervous habit of yours he had quickly taken notice of. It emerged involuntarily when you faced tough cases, or when your computer took too long to start up, or even when the elevator made an unexpected noise.

"I did," he admitted, "You shouldn't have been alone."

Your whole body felt like it was on fire, and you were weirdly frustrated that you couldn't recall being the same bed as him, being able to feel his body against yours. You bet he was warm, and soft, and large against you.

"Thank you."

His phone went off. "Hotchner."

Your eyes followed his movements, noting the firm nods, watching as he stood, his expression hardening, jaw tightening, and hand coming to rest on his chin as he faced away from you.

The phone call was brief, and he quickly turned his attention back to you. "We've got a case."

And it was quite the case--three male victims, all in their forties. Each crime scene was close to Quantico, about twenty minutes, sparing the team any extensive travel. Though, after last night, you don't think you would have minded if they had been halfway across the country.

You were really banking on Hotch's ability to keep things professional, knowing full well that if Morgan caught wind of this, you'd be better off dead.

The team was huddled around the briefing table, absorbing Garcia's detailed rundown of the killings--they were violent to say the least--with heads bashed in and over twenty stab wounds per victim. Whoever was doing this was angry.

Hotch eventually split everyone up into tasks—Spencer and Morgan to the crime scenes, JJ and Emily interviewing the families, and Rossi was tasked with convening with the local police force. So, you know who that left at the office? You, Hotch, and Penelope. What a great group.

You avoided both of them, a pattern that had become all too familiar you had realized. Hunched over your desk, you were engrossed in sending Spencer images of your latest research on the town. True to form, he responded--Can you just fax that over to the police station?--because god forbid, he has to read it from his phone.

So, there you were, barely resisting the urge to slam your head into the fax machine. You wouldn't consider yourself technology impaired, but to say you were on friendly terms would be overstating it.

"Need help?"

"Oh, yes, please—," you began, but your voice trailed off as you noticed one of the guys from forensics hovering just a tad too close for comfort.

"They're always a bit stubborn," he noted, barely giving you space to breathe before his shoulder nudged against yours as he fiddled with the device, "just a slight...there we go."

The machine sprang into action, prompting you to step back and acknowledge his help with a nod. "Oh, thanks."

"Not a problem," he assured, stepping closer in the process, his fingers lightly brushing your thigh as he pointed out the correct button. "You see, it's all about timing," he added, his voice low and unnecessarily close, "these things can be so fussy, right?"

A subtle nod was your only response, hoping he'd take the hint that you weren't in the mood for small talk. The hangover clung stubbornly, and the whiff of his breath was a cruel taunt against the fragile peace you were maintaining over your stomach.

"So, do you find this kind of tech stuff challenging?" he asked, a little too casually. The question hung awkwardly in the air. You sought to put some distance between you, yet he matched your every move, keeping the space closed. "I mean, I'm pretty good with my hands, not just with machines honestly."

Ew.

You mustered a smile, though you were sure it was more of a grimace. The room felt smaller, the walls inching closer. "I usually manage," you responded, the strain evident in your voice.

He leaned closer, if that was possible, it was like the concept of personal space was foreign to him. "Maybe I can show you a few tricks, help you manage a little better?"

His words were light, but his proximity was anything but, almost suffocating.

Just as you were firmly about to tell him to shove it, a sharp voice beat you to it--probably for the best.

"That won't be necessary."

The forensics guy, whose name you still hadn't gotten, straightened, his smile faltering under the weight of Hotch's piercing, don't fuck with me, stare. A look usually saved for unsubs and incompetent officers, but now it singled out this man.

The same look remained on the poor guy as he directed his words to you, "why don't you join me? We need to go over some case details."

It really wasn't a question.

The man backed up instantly, mumbling something under his breath about just trying to help, but Hotch's glare followed him until he was well out of earshot.

Surprisingly, a similar sharpness was aimed at you as soon as he opened his mouth. "I'd appreciate it if you chose to flirt on your own time, not the Bureau's."

His words landed with the sting of an unexpected slap. You blinked, taken aback. "What? I wasn't--,"

But he didn't allow you time to finish. Instead, he pushed a water bottle in your hands, his eyes scrutinizing your face with such an intensity that you wished the floor would swallow you whole. "Drink. You look pale."

"Gee, thanks," you grumbled, under your breath, more to yourself than him, as he wheeled around and headed briskly for the briefing room.

Your steps lagged slightly behind him, your forehead lined with a thoughtful frown. What was that about? The way he acted--the tightness that had formed around his mouth and the harshness in his words, it was so unlike him, well, at least for it to be directed at you.

The rest of the day unfolded just as you thought it would upon waking--like shit. Hotch kept his distance, his exchanges with you brief and to the point. Every time you tried to grab his attention, hoping to clarify things (why you felt the need you weren't sure), he was already looking else, focused on literally anything but you.

It was painfully evident that he was avoiding any personal conversation with you, a realization that bit deeper than anticipated.

The office slowly emptied, the case binding you and Hotch to the briefing room, the only sounds being the faint gentle tapping of your pen and the occasional snap of your hair tie.

It was late when you finally spoke. "Hotch, this says the victim had fibers under his nails that don't match anything from the suspect's home."

Hotch's gaze snapped up to yours. "Are you saying you think the forensics team missed that?"

You met his eyes squarely, cocking your head to the side at the tone of his voice. "I'm not saying anything. I'm just pointing something out."

He bridged the space between you, his jaw set in a firm line. You could feel the warmth spreading across your cheeks as the distance dwindled.

"I'm just saying I don't want you jumping to conclusions based on underdeveloped theories."

You met his eyes with a glare, your teeth grinding together in the process. "Underdeveloped? Is that how you see my contributions now?"

The space between you had now vanished, your heart racing, finger almost poking into his chest as you spoke.

Hotch settled back against the wall, arms folded across his chest, giving you a pointed look. "I didn't say that," he replied, his voice level, markedly different from your agitated one. "We just can't afford to investigate every insignificant detail."

"Every insignificant detail?" you scoffed, "these are leads, Hotch."

His shoulders lift in an indifferent shrug that made you want to wrap your hands around his throat, and not in the good way. "Maybe. However, we need to be sure before we pursue it."

Drawing in a controlled breath, you fought to stay calm, but he was making it very hard. The sensation was all too reminiscent of college, contending with the overconfident frat boys just to voice your thoughts. That comparison may have been a tad extreme--Hotch was far from being like those insufferable boys, but he was certainly pushing your limits right now.

"I am sure. Why aren't you listening."

"I am listening," he said, but his voice was distant. "I just... I just don't want to get sidetracked, that's all."

"Sidetracked? By what, exactly?"

"I'm just not sure you're all here right now."

You felt your cheeks warming with a tinge of shame, but you pushed back, fists clenched at your sides. "I'm here, Hotch. I'm focused."

"Because last night—,"

"Last night was a mistake, okay? I got it. I already apologized for that. But I'm not irresponsible, my focus is on this case."

A lengthy pause followed, his expression unreadable. "You're certain about that?"

"Yes, I'm certain," you snapped, moving towards him again. "And for the record, JJ said you were okay with us having a few drinks."

"I was," he admitted. "But I didn't think—,"

You didn't let him finish. "What, that I'd get wasted? That I'd do something stupid? I'm sorry I'm not perfect."

"Well, yeah."

"Screw you, Hotch."

You knew that was a mistake the minute his nostrils flared, his chest now a pressing force against yours.

Then, without warning, his lips crashed into yours. A muffled oomph of surprise left you, your hands hanging motionless at first, only to quickly melt, grasping at his jacket, pulling him into you.

It wasn't a gentle kiss, nor was it kind, but it was magic, exceeding anything you could have imagined, setting every fiber of you on fire. His lips pressed against yours with an intensity that drew out a breathy sigh, arousal tingling through you, and your passion rose to meet his, equally hungry, equally desperate.

Your fantasies had never done him justice--kissing him was intoxicating, and now you could feel yourself getting lost in the sensation, realizing it was everything you never dared to hope for.

Drawing back just enough, his hands drew you closer, pressing against the dip of your back, his breath fusing with yours in a dizzying blend, making the air seem scarce.

Against the soft pressure of his lips, you murmured, "I wasn't flirting."

There's a pause as his eyes locked on yours, searching, questioning. Then, his hand settled at the side of your neck. "You better not have been."

Any witty comeback you had dissipated as his lips crashed against yours again, more urgently this time, his hands tracing every contour of your clothed body with an insatiable curiosity.

His grip tightened around your waist, effortlessly lifting you onto the briefing table's cold surface with a resounding thud, his palms then cradling your thighs. Documents and files fluttered beneath you, hopefully they weren't too important. His eyes, dark pools of brown, were meticulously scanning your face.

"You," he breathes out, his voice a low rumble laced with something you couldn't quite place, "have consumed my thoughts since the moment I discovered you on my couch." He inches closer, his breath scorching your cheek as his fingers waltzed a pattern up your thighs. "Do you understand that feeling? The intense frustration?"

You were rendered motionless, frozen in place, scared to even twitch and risk this all being a very realistic wet dream. This was Hotch, your boss, the man defined by his lack of outward emotion. To think that you--of all people--could have an effect on him was an overwhelming concept. The room seemed to tilt on its axis as he gently guided your legs apart, positioning himself between them.

"Y-Yeah, I know," you uttered unevenly, your thoughts scattering as your hands tentatively reached for his collar.

"So, you know what it's like, huh?"

Your nod was subtle, a flustered smile briefly lighting up your expressions.

"And?" he prompts, while his fingers explore the shape of your thighs, squeezing gently.

You squirm under his gaze, the intensity of it making your heart race inside your chest.

"And... it's annoying," you confess, puffing out a breath, trying sound annoyed, but the delicate blush dusting your nose gave you away, you were sure.

"Annoying?" Hotch repeats, his hand tenderly angling your face upward, his smile laced with a taunt. "Is that all?"

You rolled your eyes, a reluctant smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. "It's distracting," your voice was softer now, desire pooling in your belly as you grasp just how compromising of a position you were in.

"Distracting," he tsked, echoing you once again as he nodded solemnly, pulling your hips into his. Your mouth parted in an 'o' of surprise, your gaze lifting to meet his. "Have I been the subject of your thoughts, then?"

Your head dipped in a nod, your fingers brushing against his firm chest, a soft blush coloring your cheeks. "Maybe a little, in a totally platonic boss-employee type of way."

"Oh yeah?"

You caught your lip between your teeth, considering your next words very carefully. "Well, maybe more than a little, and maybe more than just a boss."

"Oh, wow," his breath was a warm hover over your lips, hanging in the space between you. You ached for the tase of him again, rich with dark expresso and spiced cinnamon. It was a lovely combination. "Sounds serious."

You released a hushed giggle, a light note floating between you as your foreheads met. "It's not like I can help it."

"And why is that?"

"Because," you paused, wetting your lips in anticipation, "you're infuriatingly unforgettable, that's why."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

"You would."

He was kissing you again. This time a little softer, unhurried, and the whole reason for your argument faded into nothingness. Although if insubordination led to this sweet consequence, it might just become a habit.

His lips traced a path down your throat, prompting your head to tilt back, baring the expanse of your skin to his exploration. Your legs wrapped around his waist, drawing him impossibly close. The world seemed distant, the sensation dreamlike, buoyed by the soft lull of a lust-induced haze.

Reason gave way to impulse; your hands lost in the softness of his hair, your back arching to his hands grasping at your ass, your clothed pussy grinding against his erection.

His hands hesitated, hovering as he reached for your top, his eyes holding yours. "Is this okay?"

You nodded, more eagerly than necessary, but that still wasn't good enough for him.

"I need a verbal yes or no."

Desperation clung to you, a needy sigh escaping you as you squirmed into his touch, his hands halting your restless movements. "Yes, please, Hotch."

"You were so eager to call me Aaron last night. Say it again."

"Aaron, please, I need you to touch me," your voice rang out, imbued with such sweetness making his length constrict against the fabric of his slacks.

His fingers deftly navigated to the hem of your shirt, sliding it over your head with a fluid motion. Your bra was next, its clasp yielding effortlessly to his touch, your tits releasing with a gentle bounce, and he fought back a groan as his large hands enveloped them.

"Every bit as perfect as I remembered," he said, his fingers skillfully pulling and twisting at the nubs as you brought you forehead to meet his, a breathy gasp tumbling from your lips at the contact.

You arched your back into his heads as he let out a soft chuckle, loving the way your body reacting to him. Your eyes held a glazed-over look, lips parted ever so slightly, and you looked up at him expectantly in way that could surely kill him. 

His hands moved slowly down your sides before brushing the sensitive skin under your waist band. You swallowed a gasp, moving your hips into his again, rolling yourself against his stiff erection.

His palms pressed against your hips. "Slow down. Let me take my time with you, yeah?"

You were at his discretion; he could ask you to jump into oncoming traffic right now and you'd probably say yes.

A nod was all you could manage as you fought the urge to move, every muscle tensed, waiting for him to make the first move, but god was it hard. You couldn't really believe this was happening, until the solid press of his thumb against your clit brought the moment into sharp focus. 

"Aaron, god," you gasped, your hands tangled in the hair at the nape of his neck. Your teeth found your bottom lip harshly, trying not to show him just how easily you could come apart right now.

"Is that good, honey?"

Honey. You could practically feel the arousal dripping your thighs as you nodded eagerly.

The pad of his thumb glided between your folds, gathering the slickness to continue his assault against your swollen clit. You buried your face deeper into his suit jacket, attempting to stifle the embarrassing sounds that you couldn't seem to contain. 

A whine of protest filled the space between you as his hand slipped away from your pants. His eyes bore into you as he gathered the strands at the back of your neck, guiding your gaze to yours. 

"None of that. Let me hear you gorgeous."

"Aaron, please, I need your fingers inside me, please."

You were painfully aware of how ridiculous you sounded, knew that if anyone else was in the office right now, you'd be so screwed, fired probably, but as his fingers dipped into your cunt those concerns dissolved quickly.

"Since you asked so nicely."

He was torturing you--his pace aggravatingly slow, working in and out of you as you tried to fight the overwhelming desire to slam your legs shut. It was so much, yet not enough. You ground yourself against his hands as his other hand clamped around your back, keeping you from falling back.

"That's it, baby, fuck yourself on my fingers."

His eyes were dark, pupils dilated, his chest rising and falling in a way that only seemed to spur you on, doing exactly as he ordered. His words felt foreign in your ears, before today you could never imagine him talking like this, so vulgarly. 

"Aaron, I-I need—," you paused, your eyes falling to his pants, more specifically the hardened cock inside them.

"Yeah? Is that what you want?"

"Yes, fuck, please," you gasped as his fingers hit that one spot just right. Your head lolled back as you clutched at his collar, his arm behind you keeping you in place.

"Watch your mouth," he said, and for some reason that was enough to send you right over that never ending ledge, your stomach coiling, heat spreading under your skin, every part of you ached.

"Oh—, Aaron, I-I'm—," you were a blubbering mess, rocking without mercy against his fingers, his thumb brushing against your nub in a way that made you feel like you had met your maker.

"That's it, baby, go ahead."

That was enough for you, your walls clenching around his fingers, back arching into him and you swore for a minute you could see stars. He helped you ride out your high.

You were wholeheartedly convinced; this was heaven. You had died and gone to heaven and the first one to greet you was Hotch, his hands tracing soothing patterns on your bare skin in an attempt to bring you back down to Earth. 

Just as you were about to reach for his pants, determined to feel him inside of you, his phone went off. Of fucking course. He shot you an apologetic look, the sound a wake-up call, pulling you both from the lust-fueled moment. 

He moved back with a couple steps, offering nods and muted words to whoever was calling at 12 am. You were suddenly extremely aware of your appearance--topless and on the briefing table for crying out loud. 

You attempted to stand, your legs betraying you with a wobble that had him instantly clasping your arm firmly, his attention flickering from the phone to the tremors in your stance. You gave him a small in return as if to say I'm fine.

You reached across the table, grabbing your shirt from its discarded state, not bothering with the bra as you dressed quickly. He cleared his throat, causing you to turn, just in time to see his phone disappear into his pocket.

"That was the Stafford police chief, there was another murder," he explained.

"Oh, right, okay, um..." you started, your brain racing into overdrive as you instinctively moved towards the door. "I just need to..."

Your movement was too quick, a dizzying spin that resulted in you tumbling into Hotch's solid frame. His reflexes were immediate, hands clasping onto you once again, preventing you from landing straight into him.

"Whoa, hey, are you okay?" he asked, brows knitting in a frown, "take a second."

"Yeah, um, yeah, I'm good," you managed to get out, even as heat suffused your face. "Just need to get changed, uh, can't imagine either of us want to the team to find me like this."

"Right."

He was still frowning, and you wanted nothing more than to kiss away the harsh lines of his forehead, but you were sure he wouldn't appreciate the gesture. 

You made a beeline for your office, the door's thud barely registering over pulsating rush in your ears. God, you were so screwed.

taglist: @chronicallybubbly @aremuslupinsimp @sky2nd @thisisdaisytrying @ryswritingrecord

[hotwritergf]

can you pls do smut with hotch where they’re in his office and so have to be quiet 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻

Tempted, you know.🪐

“Quieten down.”

Hotch demands, his voice rough like there’s something stuck in his throat. There is. All the pent up groans he wants to let out as he pounds deeper into your soaked cunt. You lay on his desk, his files and stationary flung onto the floor carelessly. The blinds of his office closed down, that’s as close to privacy as you’ll get here.

“You better keep that mouth closed or I’ll find other uses for it.”

He clamps his palm over your lips, his grip tightening when he feels your core clench around him. So warm and inviting, made just for him. Each thrust causes you to mewl into his hand, salivating over his fingers as you drool from pleasure.

Aaron’s cock feels perfect. He’s thick and cut, his tip angry and red. Overstimulated as he finds your sweet spot deep inside your womb. Looking down at him working over your body, you can see the imprint of him bulging through your stomach.

You’re riding on the edge of orgasm the entire time, but he won’t allow you release yet. This wasn’t a passionate moment, it was rough and imperfect. Taking your body like a fuck toy, you knew that skirt was against uniform regulations but you wore it anyway. Teasing Aaron with every moment you make, only wearing a thong underneath so everyone could see your ass cheeks when you bend over after ‘accidentally’ dropping a case file.

He grapped your wrist, pulling you harshly into your office. Assuming it was only going to be a verbal scolding about how you shouldn’t be inappropriate in the workplace, you smirked at him. But he just threw you on the desk, and that’s how you were here. With your panties pushed to the side and being filled with cock as he holds you down by your mouth, your hair decorating the desk.

Your eyes leak with tears as he fucks against your g-spot, and with each thrust you feel closer to screaming.

“Shouldn’t fucking tempt me should you? Maybe now you’ll learn your lesson not to be a little slut, or maybe I should open those blinds and show all of our coworkers who you belong to and what happens when you misbehave. They all know you’re a whore anyway, look what you’re fucking wearing. Ridiculous. You wanted this.”

His words push you over the edge, you couldn’t hold back the orgasm that was building deep in your stomach. His pubes tickle over your clit as his tip brushes over your spot again, it’s all too much for your body to handle.

Aaron looks down at his cock disappearing into your cunt, your folds rubbing against his base. Smirking down at you when he feels you clench him harder, milking the cum straight from his balls, forcing him to empty them inside of you. Breeding you here in his office.

Hotchner’s cock spurts ropes of cum inside you, painting your walls and reaching up to your womb. All whilst you come undone, writhing and bouncing yourself on him like he’s fucking a flesh-light. He continues to fuck you through the aftershocks until you’re begging him to stop, too weak and tired to take his dick anymore.

“I told you, don’t test me while I’m on the clock.”

Aaron groans as he pulls out of you, smirking as he watches his cum leak out of your now-sore cunt.

“You’ll learn, once you realise how bruised inside you’ll be if you don’t.”

[headkiss]

hello! a summer request for my sweet hotch, maybe him taking care of reader's allergies or a cute picnic date (jack included)

hope you have a lovely day sweetheart 🩷

hiii tysm for your request!! hope you’re having a lovely day too angel 🫶 so sorry it’s not summer anymore but hopefully you still enjoy! | 0.8k words of fluff!!

Aaron is not known to take many days off, but summer seems to get him out of the office more than any other season. Even more so ever since he met you.

More again as soon as he introduced you to Jack, to the most important person in his life. Jack liked you immediately, and he never stops asking when he’ll see you next. Though there’s a void left behind by Haley that will never quite be filled, you all know it, but your presence in both of the Hotchner’s lives has brightened them in ways Aaron doesn’t think you could understand.

It’s why, today, he’s taken the day off on purpose. He’d even gone as far as to tell the team not to call him unless absolutely necessary. He trusts them, and they bug him to take breaks more than anyone, anyways.

There’s a classic red and white gingham blanket spread beneath you on the grass, the sun bright in the sky and saturating the park around you.

Aaron’s barely unpacked the snacks before Jack is jumping up and asking his dad for permission to go play.

“Only where I can see you,” Hotch says, “okay, buddy?”

“I know, dad!” Jack’s already running off before you can even tell him to have fun.

Aaron watches his son go, squinting in the sun, keeping an eye on Jack until he’s made it to a small group of other kids by the slide before turning back to you.

You’re scrunching your nose and rubbing at your eyes when he does, and Aaron frowns a little when you sniffle.

Always far too observant, he tilts his head at you and asks, “You okay, honey?”

You nod, because you really are.

You’ve had allergies for most of your life, you think, so it’s nothing to worry about. It’s just annoying. You’d woken up and could already tell it was a bad day for them, less air passing through your nose, your eyes itchy.

But days like these—the ones with Aaron and Jack and beautiful weather and nobody working—are rare, and you’d never be caught giving up time with your people just because of some allergies.

“I’m fine, just my allergies.” You smile at him and grab a nacho from the spread, dipping it into the layered salsa from the grocery store and popping it into your mouth.

“Why didn’t you tell me they were acting up?” Hotch asks, thumb wiping a bit of salsa from the corner of your mouth gently without a thought. Sweet and subconscious.

“Because you would’ve made me stay in bed and bring me soup like it was the flu,” you say, knee bumping his. “I’m out of meds, but I didn’t wanna miss this. Jack was so excited and I was, too. I love being with you guys.”

And fuck, Aaron’s heart squeezes in his chest at the way you speak so fondly about him and Jack, like they’re your own family. At how you’re willing to be uncomfortable just to keep plans intact.

He trails a knuckle down your bare arm, all the way down until he catches your hand and gives it a squeeze. “We don’t have to stay long.”

“I know,” you scoot closer and drop your head against his shoulder.

It’s only twenty minutes later, and after many sneezes (and ‘bless you’s from Aaron), he’s packing up the picnic and not letting you argue it. Your eyes are reddened and watery, and he can hear how stuffy your nose is by your voice, and he doesn’t want you to feel worse.

And maybe he likes the idea of getting to take care of you over something small like this. How domestic it is.

“Alright, let’s go home, yeah?” Aaron pats your thigh softly. “I know you wanted to tough it out, but i can tell it’s bugging you. There’s a pharmacy down the street, we’ll stop for meds.”

There’s no sense fighting him when your allergies are bugging you, when he’s so stubborn with his plans, with how kind the tone of his voice is.

“Okay. Maybe we can watch a movie when we get back? Jack can pick since we’re making him leave early.”

“You sure?” Aaron raises his eyebrows. “He’s gonna make us watch Big Hero 6 for the hundredth time, you know?”

“I know that you secretly love that movie.”

“That wore off at the tenth watch, honey.”

You laugh, then sneeze, and Aaron shakes his head at you fondly before calling Jack back over and promising to buy him a candy bar at the pharmacy for cutting his game short.

The candy bar is long gone by the time you’re all settled on the Hotchner’s couch to watch Big Hero 6 again, and you and Aaron share a secret smile when Jack announces it as his pick.

[messylxve]

old flame | aaron hotchner x reader

part two

content warning: angst, yearning, sad hotch, tension is THICC, mentions of abduction, guns, pregnant character, angry cops

pt1 pt3

Aaron still thinks about you most days. There was not much he clung onto from his years before, but you were one of the few he couldn’t let go of.

He supposed it was because you were one of the few things he never got closure for. You had just disappeared one day, completely untraceable as if you never wanted to be seen by him again.

And he didn’t know why.

It was a rather quiet day in the BAU. Morgan and Prentiss goofed off while Reid rambled on about…something. Aaron stuck it out in his office per usual.

He should have been doing paperwork, but his mind wandered elsewhere. It wandered to the picture in his wallet. He gazed at it sadly, wondering when it all went wrong.

The picture was of you and him: a selfie taken on a camera from when the two of you went to a store late at night and decided to cart each other around in the shopping carts.

Strange how some of the happy memories he had left, were of you.

“Hotch.”

He flipped his wallet shut, his attention now on JJ as she stood at the doorway of his office. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” he cleared his throat. “What do you have?”

“Multiple abductions in Harrisburg, Pennsylvania. Two girls, a woman, and a boy. All ranging in ages, but all related to officers under the police force.”

“What’s the time difference between each?”

JJ shook her head, flipping through one of the folders. “Three days.”

Hotch quickly pocketed his wallet and stood from his desk. “We’ll do the debriefing on the jet, alert the others. Wheels up in 10.”

To say it was chaos in Harrisburg Police precinct was an understatement. Phones rang endlessly, people rushed around and the sound of arguing echoed from the chief’s office.

“It's not usually like this,” one officer greeted. “This has become personal for a few of us and they aren't taking it lightly.”

Hotch scanned over the precinct, the uneasiness in the air radiating out to his team. “I suggest you take those officers off the case. We can't afford any distractions from anyone to interfere with this.”

“That's what were working on,” he nodded over to the office where four uniformed individuals crowded around a desk. “They aren't making it easy.”

Hotch’s frown deepened before looking around. “Do you have a space for my team to set up?”

“Yes, right this way,” he motioned for the group to follow him before turning back to Hotch. “Chief wants you in her office before we begin breaking things down.”

“Thank you.”

Hotch didn't know why he didn’t suspect something when he heard the shouting the first time. Walking closer, he realized he knew that voice. It was the voice that had haunted him for years.

“Do not question my authority again. The four of you are suspended from this case. If I hear another complaint, argument or so much of a whisper about my decision your guns will be confiscated until the case is closed. Am I clear?”

Aaron’s heart stuttered. His hand found the doorframe to grip as he watched in awe.

A small chorus of ‘yes chief’ followed your reprimand from all but one officer.

“Am. I. Clear. Smith?”

The man grit his teeth, staring you dead in the eye. “Yes chief.”

“You’re dismissed.”

Each officer left the room, leaving the two of you alone and suddenly you felt like kids all over again.

“Aaron.”

“y/n,” he breathed out. “I didn’t know—,”

“Neither did I,” you interrupted, knowing exactly what he was talking about. You felt your defenses slip away for the first time in a long time in his presence. You hated to admit it but it felt good. Seeing him again despite all of the years away.

But that look in his eyes, the pain and heartbreak. It took you right back to the day you fucked up.

It was almost as a spell was casted, Aaron saw your walls form again.

You cleared your throat and folded your arms. “There are only so many officers I can have on the field for this, so I thank you and your team for being here.”

“I- of course.”

Aaron had never felt so unsure during a case.

“Agent Smith says he was on the phone with her right before it happened and she hung up quickly,” you mused, standing in the front entryway of the Smith home with Hotch and Morgan. “Jessica Smith was 8 months pregnant when taken…”

“Which means she couldn’t have put up much of a fight,” Hotch finished your thoughts. Your eyes found his for just a moment and your heart stuttered in its chest. Had it been so many years ago, the two of you would have laughed about it, or shouted jinx, but not anymore.

“But she still would have put up some semblance of a struggle. She didn’t fight at all.” You cleared your throat.

Morgan looked oddly between the two of you, crossing his arms. “Right, so is it possible the unsub had a weapon. Threatened her to let him in.”

Hotch shook his head. “I don’t think so, the unsub had to be someone she trusted.”

“But didn’t want around the kids,” you muttered, eyes staring down the entryway.

Morgan furrowed his brows. “What makes you say that.”

Your eyes flickered up to Hotch, that’s where they wanted to go, but you trained them on Morgan instead. “The other kids were home, would’ve ran to the door to see who might be there.”

Hotch watches you carefully as you walk over to the door, your gloved hand closing it. “Mom makes it to the door first, sees the unsub through the peephole and recognizes him, but thinks it might not be a good idea for the husband to know he was there.”

You turn away from the door, facing the men. “She hangs up the phone abruptly, tells the kids to go play and leaves her phone right here on the table before opening up the door.”

You open the door slowly and step outside, noting the mud on the welcome mat leading to the the first few feet of the house.

“The mud from the prints match the ones at the other scenes, but they don’t run through the house…they stop here.”

“She didnt want him far into the house at all,” Hotch finished off again.

“So that means the unsub is someone each family knows and Jessica recognizes, but is a sore subject, not wanting her husband to know he was there,” Morgan theorizes.

“Someone who was fired or discharged,” you realized.

Hotch furrowed his brows. “Have you recently let go of officers.”

You nodded your head. “A few. But there’s no way to go through files like that without getting unneeded attention from other officers.”

Hotch turned to Morgan. “Call Garcia, tell her—,”

“No need,” you interrupted. “I have direct files saved to my personal computer. It’ll be faster.”

Hotch eyes stayed on you, contemplating his choices.

“Morgan, get back to the precinct, update the others. l/n and I will retrieve the files.”

The car ride was…awkward to say the least.

Hotch had a million things he wanted to say, he needed to say. But somewhere between his heart and his voice, it died upon delivery.

“Spit it out,” you blurted out suddenly, forcing his attention to you.

“What?”

“You’re twiddling your thumbs and biting the inside of your cheek. Every time you look at me you take this gasp of air. What do you want to tell me?”

So many years had passed and yet you could still read him like the back of your hand.

“That was impressive back there…” he swallowed hard. “You’d make a good profil—,”

“Please don’t tell me you cooked up all of your guts just to tell me I’d be a good profiler,” you laughed.

It sounded harsh, but there was something in your tone that eased Aaron’s heart. He laughed too for the first time in a long time.

“No I guess not.”

However just as easily as the moment eased up, it easily tensed back into that painful silence.

“Why did you leave,” he blurted out finally.

Your smile dissolved so quickly, it pained Aaron to be the reason it was even there.

“I got an offer from UPenn. Full ride.”

Aaron frowned. “Congratulations.” It was genuine, despite how hollow his voice sounded. “But that’s not the real reason is it.”

Your voice suddenly felt very raw as you attempted to swallow back your emotions, but just as quickly as they left, it came back. “No…”

“Why—,”

“Because,” you burst out. “After that night, when you begged me to…” you couldn’t bear to finish that sentence. “…what we did…I couldn’t go back to what we were. It hurt too much to. I was ready to tell you everything when I saw you again but…you and Haley. She… I couldn’t do that to her.”

You were bearing your emotions out, on the verge of tears releasing every pent up emotion since that night and Aaron never felt more stupid in his life.

They had finally come at a red light when Aaron spoke up. “What night? What did I…what did I ask you to do?”

He was terrified of your answer.

But you. Everything in you stopped. Your heart, your brain, even your breath. Everything was so silent when you turned your head and finally looked him in the eye for the first time in ages.

“You really don’t remember?”

He shook his head. “No.”

No

No

No

His single word reverberated through your bones, sinking deep into your soul. What do you mean no?

You turned to the road, a humorless chuckle falling from your lips. “You don’t even remember.”

“y/n,” Aaron called your name with such desperation. “Please.”

You looked back at him, hearing that tone in his voice. Suddenly you were taken back to that night. Between the pleas in his voice and that depressingly sad look in his eyes, he looked just the way he did all those nights ago.

God how long is this light?

“You were drunk. Haley accused you of being in love with me. You begged me to kiss you to prove it was a lie.”

His heart squeezed in his chest and his lungs felt as if it was wrapped in barbed wire. It hurt.

“Did I?”

Your eyes flickered over to him for just a millisecond.

“Oh.”

“Yeah. Oh.”

part three out now!!

taglist: @mackannkees @gghostwriter

[zvdvdlvr]

Hotch & f!reader who gets a broken nose on a case and Hotch kinda loves f!r with a crazy look in her eyes?

I love me some Hotch x deranged!reader :)))

“Fuck!”

The team heard your shout and immediately backtracked, searching for you. Hotch’s heart raced in his chest as the sound of punches landing and grunts filled the air.

Aaron rounded a corner and watched the unsub bring his head forward directly into your nose. That loud ‘pop!’ echoed in the mostly abandoned room. You were only fazed for a second, licking blood off your lips as you leaned forward to catch your breath.

Hotch didn’t have the chance to tackle before you leapt forward, swiftly didging the unsub’s jerky movements. You must have hit him hard for a man that bulky to be stumbling around like a drunkard. Bracing yourself, you shouldered the man down, landing on his back and making a painful shout escape him. Your chest heaved as you twisted his hands back and cuffed him, spitting blood to the side.

Derek pulled the man up to his feet and shoved him outside and into the vehicle as you walked over to Aaron.

“Thanks for the help,” you joked, wiping blood from your upper lip. Aaron grimaced at your action.

“Looked to me like you had it covered,” he replied watching you laugh and rock back on your heels. “I probably would have just gotten in your way.”

You laughed. “Probably. I think I deserve a reward for my effort, though, don’t you think?”

Aaron shrugged and started walking through the maze of a house. “I think your going crazy from all the blood loss.”

With a scoff, you elbowed Aaron. “I’ll divorce you!”

Hotch just laughed and stopped just before the exit, carefully cupping your cheek. “You look good holding your own,” he murmured, watching blood smear your teeth as you smiled devilishly at him. “Doesn’t mean I like seeing you get hurt.”

You tilted your head up. “I see your dialated pupils, Hotchner. Who would think the amazing and world-renowned SSA Aaron Benjamin Hotchner had a think for crazies?”

“Not crazies,” Hotch reprimanded lightly, hand pressing into your face as he leaned down, his lips ghosting yours. “Just you.”

[igotanidea]

(Heart)warming : Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader

Summary/request: cockwarming with Hotch(ner)

Warnings: well, the summary says it all, nothing explicit but still MDNI

***

„Aaron?”  her voice sounded so quiet and small in the empty, darkened room, lighted only by pinspot on his desk.

“Go back to bed” he mumbled, not looking up from the pile of files towering before him.

“You know I can’t sleep without you.” she whispered, taking one step closer. “Please Aaron.”

“Y/N…..” he sighed deeply and his calm, piercing eyes landed on her figure, immediately turning soft an loving. Y/N. His love. The one that was there for him despite everything, supporting, upholding, comforting after hard cases.  Enduring all those lonely hours and nights without him, being left hanging whenever he was out, working with the team. And now, she was standing in front of him, wearing only an oversized T-shirt, her legs bare, eyes wide open despite the late hour, soft hair surrounding her pretty, but worried face like a halo. It was almost impossible to tell her no. But he had work  “I have to finish this.” he hissed, eyes landing back on the documents.

“Aaron, baby.” She moved towards him even more. “You’ve been working too hard lately.”

“Comes with the specific of the job.”

“I know, baby.” She cooed, cupping his cheek and forcing him to look at her “I’m not making you choose, you know that.”

“But?”

“How do you know there’s a but? she smiled lightly, caressing his skin, making him close his eyes in a pure bliss and lean into her touch

“I’m a …..”

“shhhh” she silenced him “you promised not to profile me. Ever.”

“sorry. Force of habits.” Hotch smirked and that face expression added to his boyish charm. The charm he fell for.

“but….” she trailed “there is a but coming.” Her shoulders dropped slightly “I miss you, babe.” She leaned forward slightly, brushing her soft lips over his and he did not stop her. “I barely see you, lately. And when I do you’re always worried or stressed or holding back your emotions. It’s bad for you.”

‘Y/N…..” he gasped as her mouth brushed over his jaw, the intimacy and care conveyed by those gentle touch like nothing he experienced for a while now. Long while.

“I know you can’t talk about the specifics of your work….” Her hand tangled in his hair, scratching at his nape “but I can’t stand you being so tense…. Not with me, Aaron.” She was getting bolder with every second he was not pushing her away. If anything, the way he was reacting to her touches and caresses only made her want more as without any hesitation she sat on his lap, capturing his lips in hers once more, both arms locking behind his neck, luring him in. Smiling happily as his hands circled over her waist, pulling her closer to him, moving up and down her sides and reciprocating with the passion she missed for the last weeks.  “Aaron….” She let out a quiet moan feeling his excitement brush against her core.

“I love you.” he muttered against her jaw, one hand sneaking under her shirt, feeling her soft, smooth skin. The sensation incomparable with anything else. “I’m sorry,, sweetheart.”

“Don’t be….” She whispered, putting a finger on his lips, effectively silencing him “I knew what I was getting myself into when I met you. Just…..”

“What?” he asked, running the other hand through her soft hair, playing with the top button of the shirt, wanting nothing more than to get rid of that piece of clothing and spend the night with her. Loving her. Worshipping her. But as much as they both craved one another, they also knew he couldn’t  do that. Not until the case was closed.

“Let me help you.” she gasped “Let me help you relax.”

“Baby….”

“You can still work on that.” Her hands travelled from his arms, down his chest, to his abs and found his belt, painfully slowly unfastening it, hole after hole, giving him a chance to stop her, to withdraw. He did not, absolutely hypnotized by everything she was doing “I don’t think this can distract you , can it, agent?” she raised an eyebrow, being done with the belt, slowly unzipping his pants. Hotch was definitely not going to say that out loud, but she was as hot and seductive as never before. And he wanted her. Strict, demanding and cold SSA Aaron Hotcher was gone, absolutely lost in the love she was giving him. Turning needy just for her.

“You are being awfully distracting now.” he pointed out, still not losing his cool outside.

“Do you want me to stop?” she pouted, her eyes landing on him, withdrawing her touch.

“I think we both started some business we need to finish, Y/N” he responded, pecking her lips and she got the hint immediately freeing his hard-on, already ready for her “can you behave?”

“Will you punish me if I don’t?” she breathed against his cheek. “Tell me what exactly will you do to me.”

“Y/N…..” he warned, tightening the grip on her.

“All right, all right. I get it. No teasing.” She let out a single laugh, the music to his ears and wriggled on his lap, squirming to get rid of her underwear.

“No teasing, huh?” Hotch raised an eyebrow at her behavior, his breath becoming a bit heavier.

“What? You said it, I got business to take care of. And that requires some additional working” she moved once more making him groan in need, smiled and raised her hand in which she was holding her panties “Ups!” she dropped them onto the floor “I think I lost something….”

“I am a patient man.”

“Really? So you want me to do all the work by myself?”

“Come here.” He ordered grabbing her hips, guiding her towards his cock. Only the tip dived in between her folds, but the sensation made them both moan in unison.

“Aaron…..”

“I missed you too, baby.” His eyes focused on her face, twisting in more pleasure the lower she was sinking. “You ready?”

“Yes… please….”

Giving all the control into his hands she let him enter and stretch her fully. It felt so good feeling him like this. So full. So complete with his love surrounding her like a warm blanket.

“I love you, Y/N….”

“I …. I love you too, my agent. Does this make you feel better?” she asked, so willing to help him, to ease all his pain.

“The best. Thank you love.” He kissed her again. And again. And again. Only with chaste pecks, worried than anything else may lead to some real action between them. And he really had to finish this job. And once again she got the hint.   

“No, thank you.” Y/N shook her head. “I needed this too. Now, keep working baby. I got you. You got me.” She pulled herself closer to his chest, hugging him tightly, her head resting on his shoulder, feeling safe and loved while being so close to him. This was far better than any intercourse they could have. It was emotional, heartwarming and fulfilling. But she could not help planting a little, playful kiss on his cheek.

“Behave yourself…” he chucked and she nuzzled his neck with her nose.

“Sorry, can’t help it.” her deep breaths were calming him down a bit. Just because she was with him.

“I love you, Y/N.”

“Love you more, Hotch.”

@somest1

[secretly-tumb1r]

Roadtrip - hotch x reader part 2

part one

summary: when hotch finally sheds his stubbornness, he decides to drive back to Quantico from New York, in an attempt to rest his punctured eardrum. You couldn’t leave him without company, so you join him.

warnings: 18+ MDNI, age gap (hotch in his late 40s reader in her late 20s), unprotected sex (p in v) oral (fem receiving), no mentions of haley

a/u: thank you guys so much for the support on the first part of this, you’re all so so sweet💞 i truly hope you enjoy this part too💞 xoxo

masterlist

You’ve kissed people before, but never like Aaron. It was almost like you had been starved of his taste, and him of yours. The kiss was so rough and angry, angry at the fact you didn’t do this earlier. If you knew it would be this good, you would’ve jumped his bones the minute you saw him.

There was no doubt he was more experienced than you, he was a lot older too, but right now, you were both just as starved and as messy and impatient as the other.

The kiss was so impactful, you could feel your arousal start to pool in your panties. Looking for any sort of relief, you start grinding on his crotch, giving you easy access to it since you were straddling him while he was laying down. You could feel him get harder by the second and that only made you moan in his mouth.

He gently bit your lower lip as he moved down to kiss your jawline and lower to your neck, finding that sweet spot that made you arch your back and drop your jaw in a silent moan.

His lips explored your body as they reached your covered breasts. Big hands cupped both your tits as both index and thumb fingers pinched and rolled your nipples.

“fuck a-aaron”

“i know baby i know”

“please please” you were a moaning mess above him. He flipped you on your back so now he was on top of you, a coy smirk plastered on his face.

“what is it baby hm? cmon use your words sweetie”

the pet names made you wetter (if that was even possible) you needed him now.

“please f-fuck me aaron”

he chuckled deeply, laughing at how desperate you were. His hands moved down from your breasts to your lower stomach. He lowered himself on the bed on his stomach as he began to kiss your inner thighs.

“awh poor baby” he rubbed a finger on your clothed cunt, arousal seeping through it. “so wet” he looks mesmerised by your glossy panties. “all this for me huh baby?” you shook your head frantically and moaned, giving him the answer he wanted.

“don’t worry sweetie i’ll make it better” his big fingers hooked around the hem of your panties as he ripped them off in a sudden movement, the cool air hitting your weeping cunt, making you clench around nothing.

He pecked your swollen clit, and looked up in your eyes to see your reaction. Your head was thrown back, your hair messy. A bead of sweat rolled down your forehead, your body already so hot even thought nothing had happened yet.

He ran his tongue up and down your slit, gaining a hiss from your throat. He groaned. “fuck honey, you taste amazing” He started flicking his tongue up and down, he was a starved man and this was his last mean. Suddenly he put his finger up to your lips “suck” you gladly took it in and swirled your tongue around the tip of his finger, he let out a shaky breath as your spit coated his finger. He took it out your mouth with a ‘pop’ and teased your entrance.

Just as you were about to complain he he inserted his finger in your cunt, knuckles deep. His fingers were far bigger from yours giving you a pleasure you were never able to give yourself.

“you think you can take another one baby?” you nodded frantically and a low chuckle escaped him. He stretched you open when he added another finger, pleasure building deep inside your stomach.

His head lowered to suck on your clit, his touch was addictive. “fuck- ‘m close!” he started to pump his fingers faster as he looked up at you making eye contact. He looked too pretty between your legs, hair messed up and nose up aganist your pelvic bone. You could come just at the sight. Your hand flew to his hair as you started grinding on his face. Suddenly you felt it. You let go all over his face.

When he came up, his face looked delicious soaked in your arousal. He licked his lips and fingers clean as he kissed you deeply, allowing you to taste yourself, “please aaron need you inside” you managed to croak out between kisses.

Your hands flew to his pants button, undoing it quickly. “someone’s eager” he laughed and you could only moan.

You could see his bulge through his boxers, he looked so big.

Your mouth watered at the sight as you pulled down his boxers, his cock springing out proudly, leaking with pre cum.

“lay down baby” his gentle voice awakened something inside you, and you couldn’t help but do as he said.

His lips found your neck again as he aligned his tip with your entrance making you tense up. “relax honey” his hand started circling your nipple.

He finally thrusted into you, letting you accommodate to his size. He was massive, bigger than anyone else you’ve ever been with.

He started to move, picking out his pace, slow but steady. “aaron- faster please” you pleaded.

“oh you like it rough huh?” he cocked his eyebrow up. He flips you on your stomach pressing his large hand on your lower back to make your back arch.

You were a moaning mess. He rammed his cock in your pussy at an ungodly pace, hitting that spongy spot inside that made you mewl.

Aaron wasn’t the one to come quickly, but your sweet noises accompanied by the noises your sweet pussy was making around his cock was like a symphony, music to his ears.

His hands dug into your hips so hard he was sure it would leave marks. He wanted that. He wanted to mask you as his.

His strong hand moved to your front where he started circling your clit making you moan even louder.

“fu- aaron yes god! i’m gonna c-“ you interrupted yourself with pornographic moans.

“cmon baby let it go, make a mess on my cock.”

that was all you needed. You were sure you’d never had a better orgasm before, your pussy clenched around his cock making him cross the finish line too, you could feel thick spurts of come pairing your walls.

Aaron pulled out mesmerised by the mixture of your cums together. Two of his fingers collected the dripping come and pushing it back inside, groaning loudly. The overstimulation make you whinge.

After Aaron had cleaned you up and made you go to the bathroom (reid had told him about the dangers of utis after sex), you found yourselves cuddled in eachothers arms.

Your soft breathing acting like a sleeping pill for Aaron, and he was sure this was the best nights sleep he’s had in a while.

It became a problem that he tasted you because now he would never let you go.

OH MY GOD GUYS!! this was so hard to write😭 i love reading smut but writing it, not so much!! i gross myself out💔 HOPE YOU LOVED THIS PART please lmk down in the comments I LOVE YOU ALL SO SO MUCHHH💞💞 xoxo

@mrs-ssa-hotch

[vervainariadne]

BAU in the the field.

Hotch: Duck!

Everyone in the team: *ducks*

Gideon: WHERE!

[thewulf]

Frozen || Aaron Hotchner

Summary: Request - Aaron has a new neighbor, a sweet young woman. There's something between them. She new in the city and he invites her when he has the team over for a bbq... Read Rest Here

A/N: Ahh, just love him! Enjoy :)

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Y/N

Word Count: 5.2k+

It was hot. Way too hot. You’d been out weeding the garden for far too long now. A sweaty mess with dirt coating far too many different parts of your body. Super cute look. You were on a mission to get the damn garden bed weeded out. You’d, very fortunately, inherited the house from your aging grandma who wanted to downsize. You’d visited throughout the years and fell in love with the home and the area. The best thing about having a small family is that nobody fought you for the home.

But boy, were you in over your head. It wasn’t a massive home you’d just never owned one before and things were a tad overwhelming. Everything suddenly becoming your responsibility when you were least expecting it. Not that you were complaining. You owned a paid off home. How much better could it get than that?

The only thing that seemed to rip you right from your focus of pulling weeds was the small voice of boy behind you wondering about you, “Daddy! Who’s that new lady?” Shit. You were in the middle of crawling around the damn garden bed. Cursing lightly, you stood and turned towards the sidewalk with a smile on your face while simultaneously attempting wipe the dirt off your face but only smudging it further.

When you turned your heart about sunk to the floor. Why you? Why of all people that had to walk on by was it him? You were looking into the eyes of perhaps one of the most handsome men you’d come across in all of your years. And you were covered in dirt? The universe was playing a cruel trick on you.

Looking down at yourself you cursed yourself again. Quickly you looked back to the boy responding to him, “Hello.” You waved to the small boy keeping your eyes off his extremely attractive father, “I just moved in here.”

His eyes lit up, “A new neighbor?” He looked up to what you assumed to be his dad with big bright eyes pulling on his pants, “What happened to Mrs. Fields?” He looked you over curiously.

An interested one, he took a few steps forward to converse with you. A fearless little guy, “Mrs. Fields is my grandma. She wanted to go live in a warmer place, so she let me have her home and she moved down south.”

He took another few steps, almost to you now. His father had a pleading look in his eyes as if to apologize for his chatty son, “Cool! Do you like dinosaur’s?” He asked you excitedly.

“I love dinosaurs.” You knelt down so you were chatting with him on his level, “They’re like the coolest animals.” You responding drawing both a soft smile out of his father and fist pump from the little one.

“I know right!” He stepped even closer now, “Which one is your favorite?”

“Jack.” His father put a gentle hand on his sons shoulder, “You can ask about dinosaur’s another time. She’s busy.”

You shook your head looking up to him from your crouched position, “It’s alright. Gives me an excuse to take a break.” You turned back to Jack giving him a sweet smile, “My favorite dinosaur has to be the Velociraptor.”

He nodded excitedly at you, “That’s a good pick, but not the best…. Wait, what’s your name?” He asked after realizing he hadn’t asked earlier.

“I’m Y/N. It’s nice to meet you Jack.” You held you hand out for the little boy to take or reject.

He happily took your hand in his, albeit being three times the size. With a cheeky grin coating his face he responded, “It’s nice to meet you Y/N. That’s my dad! Daddy”

You looked away from Jack at his dad smiling at him, dirty face, and all, “Hi dad.” You waved up to him.

You could’ve sworn a hint of a blush crossed his face, “Aaron.” He held out his hand for you to take. Offering help up from the squat you’d been stuck in for a little too long. You took it feeling all too comfortable doing so, “We live next door.” He pointed over to his house, “Let either of us know if you ever need anything. Jack here loves to help.” He patted his sons head. For some reason that didn’t surprise you, not a bit.

“Thank you.” Your raging anxiety of home ownership dwindling a bit as you got to know the seemingly handy man next door.

He nodded smiling down at you, “We mean it. Now, let’s go Jack. You have homework to finish before soccer tonight.”

He groaned, “Okay dad. Bye Y/N.” He hugged your leg quickly before waltzing off with a pep in his step.

“Bye Jack.” You laughed watching him run over to his home, sliding in through the back door they left open.

“He’s a cutie.” You turned back to the rather striking man who just happened to be your neighbor. You wondered who his wife was. What she looked like. He had to have one right?

He ran a hand through his hair letting out a soft sigh, “He’s a handful, that’s for sure.”

“Aren’t all young boys?” You grinned.

He nodded, “That might be the truth.” He let out a small laugh, “I’ll let you get back to it. Nice meeting you Y/N.” His smile made him even more handsome. Damn. Did you have a crush on the older neighbor or what?

You nodded, “Likewise, see you around Aaron.” He tried to slow his racing heart hearing his name off your lips. Oh, he was in trouble. He waved going to the front of the house before disappearing within it.

See him around you did, whenever he was home at least. You’d become fast friends with Jack often playing with his dinosaurs in your shared backyards. You couldn’t say no to the sweet face when he asked so kindly, not even if you tried. Aaron had told you plenty of times that it was okay to ignore him, but you couldn’t. Especially when Aaron was home, he’d always come outside and join the two of you when he had the time.

You’d gotten to know, and love, the far too kind man over the last few months. You’d learned of his devastating past. You’d felt awful for him and just as equally broken for Jack. He’d lost his mom before he even got to know her and cherish her.

He’d gotten to know you too. Falling just as much for you as you did him. You were something nobody, but he and Jack knew about. A simple pleasure to come home to. He’d learned how you were a nurse, but you were back in school going for a Nurse Practitioner position. Aaron admired your drive for what you did. He really just admired you. The far too cute for your own good neighbor he’d never admitted he had a crush on. 

You asked about work. He didn’t tell you much. But as the months progressed his lips became like putty around you. Anything you asked he answered. It felt to right to fight whatever this was. You were too young for him. Too you, he had to keep telling himself.

You’d learned about the team. How Derek was a player but a lover deep down. How Reid was the boy genius of the group. How JJ turned out to excel as a profiler. You’d learned about them all. It felt like you knew them. It felt odd to think you knew people who didn’t have a clue about you.

So, one summer evening a devious plan sparked in your mind as you were sitting in the sandbox across from Aaron. You smiled up at him giving him a look. A look he picked up on, “What?” He asked making sure not to draw Jack’s attention away from the castle he was building.

You shook your head, “Nothing, just thinking.”

“About?” He pressed leaning forward with his elbows on his knees looking right at you.

“We should have a cookout. A barbeque. When you guys are here for a weekend.” You said as nonchalantly as possible feeling the nerves bubble up when you spoke.

He raised an eyebrow processing it. He’d kept you as his own for so long. Would it ruin things if he mixed his personal life with his work life like it had so often before? He knew deep down that’s why he was hiding you away. Every time these paths crossed bad, bad things happened. He couldn’t be the reason why somebody else got hurt. He wouldn’t.

“If you want.” You added making sure there was no pressure. You understood his apprehension to letting you all the way in.

“Sure.” The words were out of his mouth before he really thought about it too much longer. The grin that crossed your face was all worth it though. He’d really do anything to see that smile.

“Really?”

He nodded, “Next weekend? If we don’t get called in? I can ask the team Monday.” He didn’t want to blow their phones up on a weekend off. Rare as they were. He knew the chances were slim that it’d happen that weekend, but he wanted to show you he was committed to it.  

You nodded gleefully, “That sounds great. I’ll iron out the details this weekend.” You were a little nervous at the thought. But you knew they had to be great if he talked so highly of them.

He was wrong. They had an easy case that week that brought them home early on a Friday. They all said their goodbyes planning to meet at his place around 6:00 that night for the cookout. You’d gotten the final confirmation and started preparing everything the second he gave you the green light. It didn’t have to be perfect but you sure as hell wanted it to go smoothly.

There was nothing to stress about, just as Aaron had reassured you numerous times that evening leading up to everybody arriving. He could see the anxiety radiating off you

“Would you stop staring?” You asked pacing back and forth trying to think of any last-minute details.

He shook his head, “Not until you relax.”

You let out a huff. It was sweet but not the right time, “I just want it to go well, that’s all. I’ll relax once everybody is here.”

He was right, naturally. There was nothing to be stressed about. Each one more lovely than the next. Jack had gravitated towards you most of the night, even holding your hand and hiding behind you when Rossi was playing with him. Derek noticed Hotch watching you throughout the night. Smiling more than he’d ever seen the man before in his life. Derek clocked it quickly. Hotch probably didn’t even realize what he was doing. A man who was about to deny his feelings.

Derek had cornered his boss in the kitchen of his home not having a clue you were sitting in the room over responding to a few texts you ignored while getting the party ready.

“Hotch, what the hell?” You heard Derek’s booming voice from where you were sitting. You peaked up from your phone way too curious to hear the conversation that was so easily heard from the kitchen.

“What?” He sounded a bit taken aback by the confrontation, if only you could see their faces.

Derek laughed, “You know what.”

A brief pause, “I’m afraid I don’t Morgan.” He sounded a little agitated now. Nothing like he did when he was with you. It was interesting to watch him, listen to him, in such a different environment than the two of you had found so often.

You didn’t know Derek, but you had to assume he was rolling his eyes at that moment, “You like her. Your neighbor. Y/N.” This, you were not expecting.

“What are you talking about?” He answered. Ouch. Your heart was still racing though. What in the hell was he going to say next?

“Don’t play dumb. You’ve been smiling like a love drunk fool for the last two hours. You’ve been watching her like a hawk.” Profilers were scary. You hadn’t even noticed. Far too preoccupied with socializing and making sure everything was going okay.

He sighed, “She’s too young Derek.” You frowned. That was just untrue. You were in your late twenties. What’s twelve or so years?

“She’s not too young. Stop that. You’re talking yourself out of it.” Derek replied to his friend.

What came next hurt, hurt deeply, “She’s not my type though. She’s too young and not my type. It would never happen.” The sting that came from your heart radiated with each pulse.

Derek let out a howl, “That’s rich Hotchner. Whatever you want to tell yourself boss man.”

You didn’t let yourself hear the rest of the conversation. You shot right out of his house making a beeline towards the ladies with a fake ass smile adorning it. You’d successfully avoided him the rest of the night not able to bear the thought of looking at him. Who were you kidding? He was just being kind to you because you were kind to his son. Nothing more. Nothing less. No hard feelings. But you had the feelings. Real feelings that weren’t going to go away unless he went away. Operation avoid Aaron Hotchner was a go.

You’d been successful the better part of a month. Lucky for you he had been pretty wrapped up in cases leaving you and Jack more time to connect while Jess watched him. When Aaron was there you’d strategically leave when he showed up bidding a goodnight with some lame ass excuse. Jack would wine and Aaron would give you a pained nod in response. You never gave them much time to question you before you dashed home.

Aaron wasn’t dumb. This was his job for God’s sake. He knew it had something to do with him, but he couldn’t pinpoint what he could’ve done, and it was slowly driving him mad. Jack was getting frustrated too. You’d be fine until dad came around. He needed to figure it out. He missed you. He missed laughing and smiling with you.

He’d thought about it for days while he was off on a case. He thought about it as the team landed at the airport late on a Saturday night merging into Sunday morning. You on the other hand were having the time of your life out with your friends drinking far too much. Tipsiness, soon to be drunkenness, consumed your body throughout the night. You pouted when your friends pulled you into the backseat of one of their boyfriends SUV’s, making sure to drop all the girls off safe and sound.

You’d waved them off before you had the chance to actually enter the house. You fumbled with your keys before finding the right one. A shiver ripped down your spine, it was chilly. Odd for a summer evening you thought to yourself.

You turned the key in the lock only to rip the key right in half as you turned it. One half in your hand and the other stuck in the lock, “Fuck.” You began to panic. Your spare key was with a friend so you couldn’t even get in through the back. You tried to pick the key out of the lock only to be met with resistance. You were far too drunk to be dealing with this right now. The lock kept going in and out of focus.

You looked down at your phone, no. No, there was no way in hell you were calling him. You were too young and not his type. You couldn’t be the burden. Think, you had to think. After standing there for far too long without a damn thought in your mind you sat down on the bench you had outside. No locksmith’s would be open at this hour. Your parents were out of state. You didn’t have any family around. You could try and call a friend, but they were all probably still too drunk and passed out by now.

You groaned laying back on the bench thankful you’d at least turned the house light on before you left. Deciding that sleep would be better than lying awake dizzy all night you tried your best to get some sleep. Teeth chattering you curled up in a ball trying to preserve some warmth it felt like sleep would never come.

You must’ve fallen asleep at some point because when you were woken up very abruptly it was still dark. You let out a small yelp before thrashing out at whomever grabbed your wrist.

“It’s me.” That familiar voice calmed you down instantly. Your thrashing stopped but your head still spun. Yup, you were definitely still drunk. Damn tequila sodas were lethal to you. But you’d never stop.

“What?” You asked far too confused. Shivering even more than you were earlier. What time was it anyway?

He pulled you up in a swift motion shrugging his jacket off placing it around your shivering frame softly, “What are you doing?” He asked urgently feeling how cold you really were as he held onto your frozen wrists.

You mumbled something incoherent feeling the ill effects of the cold. You wrapped his warm jacket around you further trying to find any ounce of warmth you could in it. It smelled too damn good on top of it. It made your already dizzy head even fuzzier.

He placed a gentle hand on your cheek trying to get you to look at him, “Can you hear me?” His heart was racing. One moment he was pulling into the driveway. He always looked over at your house just to check, he always did when he pulled in late. His heart about dropped out of his body when he saw you laying there. He hadn’t thought much of it before running over to you. You were okay. You were fine. When you didn’t respond to his calls he had to resort to shaking you gently.

You mumbled some more clear “Yes’s”, but he still didn’t buy it. Not a bit. He looked you over quickly making sure you weren’t hurt before turning your body to his.

“That’s it.” He didn’t waste a second more before scooping you up into his arms with ease. You leaned your head into his chest shamelessly absorbing the warmth within you. It just felt too good to pass up. You’d let yourself be embarrassed later.

Once he got you inside he set you down on the couch. He wrapped you from head to toe in a few different blankets. You nuzzled in suddenly very thankful your neighbor had not only found you put kind of saved your ass. You were cold. Freezing. Who knows what you would’ve been like in the morning. Frozen most likely.

“I put a few blankets in the dryer for ten minutes. That should help warm you up.” Aaron squatted down so he was level with your horizontal body. With the utmost caution he brushed some hair out of your eyesight. Your body shivered at his touch sending a grimace to his face.

“Thank you.” You were more coherent but totally tipsy. The effects of the alcohol had finally started dying down, but it was still there.

His eyes snapped to yours. He must’ve been thinking the same thing. Not expecting you to be coherent just yet, “What the hell were you doing? Thinking? You could’ve been attacked out there. You could’ve frozen to death out there Y/N.” He sighed knowing he needed to reel it back. You were probably just as freaked out as he was.

You turned away. His stare suddenly too much for you to handle, “I’m sorry.” You closed your eyes willing the alcohol to just go away.

He ran a hand through his dark hair. He needed to try again, “What happened?” There, that was a start.

You started on how you went out with your friends and ending with the “My key snapped in the lock.” Holding up the broken stub still attached to your keyring.

Aaron frowned taking it from you, “Why didn’t you call.”

You shrugged, “Didn’t want to bother you.”

A groan escaped his lips, “You are never a bother. You have to know that. Please, just call me next time, okay?” Again, he wracked his brain for anything that he could’ve done. Why you’d pulled back so suddenly on him. It just didn’t make sense. What happened at the cookout? What did he do?

“Okay.” You didn’t feel like arguing. Not anymore. You were tired and cold but thankfully warming up. You knew that’d appease the man.

He sat down from the kneeling position, “Thank you.”

You didn’t respond only nodding a little. You finally felt warm. Wiggling your toes, you sighed in relief. He just watched you. Watched as your eyes drooped, clearly tired. Before he could respond the dryer went off. He shot to his feet the moment he heard it go off, “Wait here.”

You didn’t listen. You shrugged off the blankets. Why oh why were you still so drunk? You tried shrugging it off. Pushing off the couch you stood to your feet wobbling in the slightest. You hadn’t made it a few steps before you heard his voice again.

“What are you doing?” His scolding voice asked you. Your eyes shot up from the floor looking right at him. Blood rushed right to your cheeks. Busted. What else would’ve happened? You weren’t thinking right.

“Walking.” You smiled hesitantly feeling the room begin to spin around you.

He didn’t return the smile. His lips drawn in a harsh line. Mean Aaron Hotchner was terrifying. You wobbled slightly before stepping to the side.

“What were you thinking? You could’ve died out there! You were half frozen when I found you. Somebody could have found you before I did! Did you even think? You’ll be lucky if you don’t catch pneumonia let alone a nasty cold.” He dropped the warm blankets on the ground ready for the inevitable. He was pissed but he was trying to reel it in for your sake. You looked like a scared deer caught in some headlights.

You shook your head quickly, “I’m sorry.” You mumbled for a second time wiping your eyes quickly, not daring to cry in front of him right now. It was too much though, he was too much, “I can’t… I can’t do this.” You let out trying to walk around him. But between the tears, alcohol, achy muscles, and him you nearly tripped right onto your face had he not been standing right there. With quick reflexes Aaron caught you before you toppled completely. He pulled you up into his arms.

“What is going on Y/N?” His eyes searched yours as he steadied you back on your feet, desperate for some kind of answer. You stepped back away from his burning grip you liked far too much. Far, far too much for somebody who didn’t like you. Staying away from Aaron Hotchner was just not working. The operation was suddenly amiss.

Fuck it. Who cares if he knew? You’d blame the alcohol for this confession anyway, “I heard you.” You let out.

He shook his head, unsure of what you were referring to, “Where? What’d you hear?” He was afraid you’d heard some gruesome detail of his job he’d never be able to recover from. He wasn’t expecting you to say the next words that came out of your mouth though.

“At the barbeque. You and Derek in the kitchen.” You looked down and away. Anywhere but his eyes, you just couldn’t. Not after admitting that.

He thought for a moment and cursed. How could he have been so stupid? You watched as he registered your words. His mouth opened to say something before it closed, taking it back. Never letting that thought come to life.

You couldn’t take the silence, not knowing what he was thinking, “I’m sorry, let me call a friend. I’ll get out of here.”

He shook his head quickly, “No, please don’t.” He picked up a blanket before wrapping it around you at a distance, “Stay. Sit. Please?” He spoke in broken sentences as he watched you. Watched as you went through the different options in your head.

Of course, you would. You’d do anything for him, that much was clear. A sucker for Aaron Hotchner. You walked over to the kitchen table with him close in tow just in case you were to stumble again. He only relaxed when you were seated and steady. You place your hands on the table waiting for him to say something. You were at a loss for words, it was his turn to speak.

He looked around before his eyes landed on your glassy ones, “You weren’t supposed to hear that.” It sounded awful as it came out of his mouth, and he knew it. He knew it from the way your eyebrow arched up as if to question him.

You couldn’t help the light chuckle that escaped your lips, “Clearly.”

“No.” He groaned palming his hands across his face, “That’s not what I meant. I just wanted him to back off is all. It was the easiest thing to do to get him to do so.” Aaron pleaded both with his hands and his eyes right next to you at the table.

You rolled your eyes. You wanted to believe him. You really did. But were you too young? Were you not his type? I mean you were you. Not unattractive but not the most beautiful creature to walk across the stage either.

“Y/N, Jesus, I…” He sighed taking one of your hands by surprise. Your eyes finally found his again. He’d finally gotten your attention again, “I feel things for you that I shouldn’t. You aren’t too young for me but I’m far too old for you. You’re incredible. Kind. Sweet. One of the funniest people I’ve ever met. The way you treat Jack is unlike anything I’d ever dreamed of. As hard as it is for me to say, you should find somebody that isn’t as old as me.” He smiled giving your hand a squeeze before hesitantly dropping it.

You let out a breath you’d been holding in. Well, he’d laid it all out on the line for you. It made sense. But it didn’t. He didn’t even give a chance to voice your opinion. You didn’t care. It didn’t bother you. You in fact had never met anybody like him before. No man had ever asked you the question he’d asked you before. Gotten to know you so deeply, right down to your core. It wasn’t even really your fault you fell in love with the man as quickly as you did. He did everything you wanted, you needed.

You took his hand back, relishing in the feeling, “What if I don’t want to?”

“You should.” He tried once more.

But you weren’t having it, “Not.”

He shook his head letting his fingers lace with yours, “Y/N.”

“Aaron.” You widened your eyes giving his hand a squeeze this time, “Can I have a word now?”

He nodded, “Yeah, sorry.” That was the second time you’d seen a blush on his cheeks. He must’ve been feeling awfully vulnerable or maybe he was finally letting you in.

“You’re unlike any man I’ve ever met Aaron Hotchner. You’ve made me feel things I’ve never ever felt or dreamed of feeling before and you’ve only been my friend. You too are so kind, incredibly sweet, the most thoughtful guy and the best dad I’ve seen. You balance everything so beautifully. You’re a light and I love being around you if you’d want me to that is.” You felt as his thumb brushed up and down your index finger. A chill shot right up your arm and down your back when you realized what he was doing.

“I know I shouldn’t, but I like you. A lot more than I should.” He pulled your hand up so he could kiss the back of it. You watched as his lips brushed across the back of your hand so gently it only made you ache for something more. That was just cruel.

You grinned squeezing his hand tight, “I like you too. A whole lot. Who cares what you should or shouldn’t feel. That’s stupid. I like you. You like me. It’s that simple.” It was a combination of everything that had your eyes watering. It felt so damn good to spit it out at him. To let him know how you felt. To ramble everything out. You didn’t just like him. You loved the damn man.

He laughed shaking his head. You admired him as you watched the smile grow on his face, “Is it that simple?”

You shrugged, “I don’t see why it couldn’t be.”

He stood from the seat pulling you up with him. He pulled you close seeing as you were still as unsure of your own steps as ever, “How much have you had to drink tonight?” Damn profilers know everything, not that it wasn’t terribly obvious.

Might as well play it off, right? You leaned forward whispering in his ear, “You sound like a scary officer when you ask that.” You noticed the small shiver that rocked his body as you did so. A small, satisfied smile graced your lips as you drew back.

He shook his head running his eyes up and down your frame wrapped in a blanket, “Are you warm enough?”

You saluted him, “Yes, sir. And for the record I only had eight drinks tonight.”

He laughed, “Stop that. This is serious.” He put his hands on your shoulders to steady you out, “You have no idea how bad I want to kiss you right now.” He pulled back, as much as he didn’t want to.

You whined looking up to him, “Then do it.”

“No can-do pretty lady. You’re intoxicated.” He answered far too quickly for your liking.

“So? I can still make decisions.” You challenged his ability to use reason. So persistent you were being.

“Afraid not, let’s get you to sleep.” He let his hands fall from your shoulders.

You frowned, “Oh, come on Aaron.” Maybe pouting would work. But no, he was too much of a gentleman for your own good.

He shook his head quickly, “Let’s make a deal. How about, if in the morning you still want to kiss me, I’ll let you do just that?”

You sighed, “Fine. Come find me first thing though. Promise me that?” You started walking towards the couch before a light tug at your wrist stopped you.

He nodded in response to you, “I promise. There’s a guest room sweetheart. Let me tuck you in.” He pointed up the steps.

You nodded sheepishly feeling his eyes on you the entire way up. Before he could protest you pulled off your top off leaving you in a tank top and jean shorts, comfortable enough. He gulped as he watched the entire ordeal play out before him, thankful you weren’t just in a bra.

“Sleep tight.” He brushed the stray hairs out of your face once you slid under the covers, fighting every urge in him to lean down and kiss you goodnight. Not yet.

“Night Aaron.” You yawned letting the warmth of the bed consume you, “Can’t wait to kiss the crap out of you in the morning.”

He laughed, that full hearty Aaron Hotchner laugh that warmed your soul, “Goodnight sweetheart. I’ll find you first thing.” A smile adorned your face as you fell asleep to those words.

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[mrs-ssa-hotch]

Just trying to enjoy my quiet Saturday morning, and I just wanna know who gave him the right ?! 

[mrs-weasley-reid]

INVITATION LETTER

Aaron Hotchner x bau!reader ↳ part 1 here

Sypnosis: The team finally finds out about your relationship with Aaron Hotchner. WARNING: nothing, all fluff! A/N: not my gif, ctto!

"WHAT?!"

You and Aaron looked at each other in his office at the sound of Emily's voice echoing in the entire floor.

"You think they got it?" You asked in an innocent tone as a growing mischievous smile lifted up the ends of your lips.

A knock brought both your attention to the door.

Aaron looked back at you. He was biting back a smile, "I think they did."

You chuckled and walked to the door. You gave Aaron one last glimpse before swinging the door open, spilling the entire BAU team inside his office.

Penelope was first at the door, losing her balance from an equivalent weight of four agents on her back. She waved a card as she stepped inside the office, looking back and forth between you and Aaron. "This! What? When?" She took a deep breath, "What is this?!"

You calmly went closer to Penelope and gently grabbed the card, "Let me take a look." You pretended to read the contents as if you hadn't printed them out yourself. "Looks like an invitation to me," You handed the paper back to Penelope.

"Yeah?" Emily butter in, shoving Spencer aside. "An engagement party invitation—"

"Your engagement party invitation," Penelope concluded, pointing at the two of you.

JJ, being the most level-headed person in the group, stepped in, "I guess what everyone is trying to ask is... What? When? Where? How? And how long?" She smiled sweetly, but you could sense her impatience.

"You will answer us now, and you will answer us now!" Penelope threatened in an ever-energetic bounce of avidity.

You chuckled as you stood next to Aaron's desk, "You just said the same thing, Pen." You exchanged looks with Aaron.

"That's not the point. Why didn't you tell us?" Emily crossed her arms like a toddler.

David peeked into the office, holding his copy of the invitation card. "Ahh, I see you told the children." He joined the commotion inside, closing the door as if it'd change anything.

Emily scoffed, pointing at David, "But he knew?! That's so unfair! I thought we were friends." Her face was in utter disbelief.

Derek spoke from the back, "I'm not going to lie, but I kind of feel betrayed." He sighed, now also crossing his arms. "I expected it from Hotch, but not from you." He looked at you disappointingly.

"It's not like we purposely kept it a secret," Aaron leaned against the back of his seat. "We were always off on the same day. Thought you all would've caught up by now."

"You said you have movie nights with your son every Friday. Are you telling us that's a lie?" JJ worriedly looked at Aaron as if he had done a horrible crime using his child to get out of work and go on a date with you.

Spencer hummed, looking at you, "I specifically remember you saying you spend time with family every Friday. You asked me about superheroes because one of the kids in the family loves superheroes... Were you both talking about Jack this whole time?" He questioned, tilting his head in wonderment.

You and Aaron nodded at the same time. The team even got a glimpse of Aaron's small smile. He cherished the days he spent with you and Jack.

Penelope groaned, "You lied to the three of us." She stood between JJ and Emily, pointing at themselves. "We asked if something was going on with you and Hotch, and you denied it! You lie oh so well."

Emily nodded in agreement, "Yeah, that hurts a little bit. I didn't see this coming." She placed a hand on her chest, displaying disdain.

"Relax, guys, I'm sure they have a good reason why they didn't bother announcing it to everyone." JJ turned to the two of you with an annoyed smile, "Right?"

"Honestly, we just thought you'd figure it out yourselves." You shrugged, gesturing towards David. "I mean, Rossi knew."

"Uh, duh! Pasta man always knows everything." Penelope remarked.

"Hold on, please. Let's not bring me into this. You're mad at your parents. Don't blame grandpa." David reminded everyone, sniggering to himself as he saw you and Aaron glare at him.

Derek placed a hand over Penelope's shoulder, "You still haven't answered our questions." He emphasized the last word. "Is this real? Are you guys really getting married?"

You glanced at Aaron and were about to speak when he beat you to it, "We've been together for almost three years and engaged for a month." Aaron didn't mean to talk over you. He just felt like it was something he really wanted to announce himself. He was as excited as you were but just a tiny bit casual about it.

"A MONTH?!" Penelope's eyes were wide. You worried that a sudden move might cause it to pop out of her sockets. "We missed Hotch on his one knee?! Oh, my golly gracious! Pictures? What about pictures?"

Now that she mentioned it, a small part of you felt regretful that you and Aaron weren't great at capturing memories together. You just were always in the moment and forgot to stop one second to leave a picture behind.

Penelope shook her head as if she could read your mind. "You don't have pictures of your engagement?!" She freaked out, fanning herself.

David raised a finger, fishing his phone in his pocket. "Ah! I think I have some." He began tapping on the screen.

Emily scanned them and gave David a blank expression, "No offense, Rossi, but you suck at taking pictures. Sergio can take better pictures."

Another round of noises filled Aaron's office. He reckoned it had never been that crowded in that room before. The two of you watched as your small family of agents childishly reacted to your secret relationship. They responded just as you both predicted: a complete madhouse.

Aaron stood from his seat, walking around his desk to wrap you in his jacket. He did it more upfront, glancing at you with a smile as he laid the lapels of his coat flat on your shoulders. He fixed the collar, leaning against your ear, "Let me borrow this for a second, sweetheart." He whispered.

You only knitted your brows as you tried to make sense of what Aaron meant. Your hand reflexively felt the base of your neck as soon as you saw your engagement ring glistened in Aaron's hand. It may have caused you a mini heart attack when you felt nothing, but you quickly realized that Aaron meant to borrow it for everyone to see.

Everyone's mouth shut as soon as they noticed their unit chief on one knee, lifting your ring, just like the first he did.

JJ clasped her mouth with both her hands. Penelope had her phone in a flash. Emily was smacking Spencer's shoulder, to his dismay.

"You're my solace. The one person that I found myself vulnerable and yet the safest. I promise to love you for the rest of my life, so I hope that you'll allow me to spend it with you." Aaron spoke your name with such softness and love. "Will you let me marry you?"

A huge smile was plastered on your face. Granted, Aaron had said the same words a month ago. You were wearing a better dress, one of his jackets around your shoulder, per usual. His suit was more for leisure and not his everyday office attire. The venue was more privy and gave both of you such intimacy you couldn't help but cry.

But despite the crowded room and unromantic setting, the effect was still the same.

You felt the rim of your eyes heat up, nodding vigorously as if you hadn't been engaged for the past month. "Yes!"

Aaron placed the ring on your finger for the second time and grabbed you into a quick, soft kiss. The joy he felt coursed through his body. He couldn't help but have you in his arms.

The team cheered, clapping their hands in excitement. Some raised their hands to express their happiness.

"She said yes!" Emily jumped out with joy. She had one of her arms wrapped around Penelope's.

Penelope was satisfied; even if it wasn't the proposal in her mind, she was happy to be a part of such an amazing event in the whole team's entire lives.

"Now, can you all go back and do your jobs?" Aaron spoke firmly, jolting everyone into place.

You lightly smacked his chest as you laughed. You turned to the others and smiled, "He's kidding."

"I'm not," Aaron shook his head.

"He is," You clarified, giving him a playful glare.

Spencer was the one to break your banter, "So, like... do we call you mom, now?" The entire team looked at him as if he was asking the obvious. "What? I was just making sure."

"Come here," Emily hooked her arm around Spencer's neck, dragging him out of the office. "Don't worry, Mom. We'll set him straight." She kidded, leading the line of agents out of the office.

[mariasont]

Office Sleepover - A.H

a/n: this is honestly kind of shit but whatever

might make this a mini series?

part two here!

‧₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧

pairings: aaron hotchner x fem!reader

summary: in which reader gets put on a hit-list and has to stay in the office (kind of based off when penelope got put on a hit-list by the dirty dozen)

warnings: reader kind of flashes hotch, really inconsistent with how the gov works i'm sure, there's also definitely not an oven in the break room but in my world there is <3

wc: 3.8k

Hotch's voice reached you, but the words tangled into an indecipherable code as they hit the air. You nodded, a reflex, but it was as if your brain had short-circuited. You could make out fragments--a hit on you, stay at office, 24/7 protection, you can take the back office. But no matter how many times he said it, it seemed to ricochet through your head, making less sense each time. You were on a hit list? A hit list?

It all felt very made up, like a script ripped straight out of a tv show. Risk was a part of the BAU job description, but a hit list? For a fleeting moment, a chuckle hovered at the brink of your lips, but it was swiftly swallowed by a wave of dread that rose in its place. You blinked a couple times, probably too many in a vain attempt to clear the fog and bring Hotch's face into focus.

"But what about all my stuff? And you want me to camp out here in the office? For how long, Hotch? I mean, I'm all for overtime, but this is... this is a lot, and I--," you babble, your speech racing ahead of your thoughts. "And my baking? That's my biggest stress reliever. Not to mention my DIY projects--I can't just abandon my half-finished throw pillowcases. Plus, how many pairs of shoes is too many for an office closet?"

Your pout formed a delicate bow, and though he said nothing, his eyes softened. Hotch could feel the frown marring his features. He might never say it, but seeing you like this struck a chord, making it a little hard to breathe. 

Circling the desk, he planted himself in front of you, his hand settling on your shoulder. "Hey, take a deep breath," he urges softly. "Let's take it one step at a time. List out what you need, someone will bring it here. Your baking supplies, DIY projects, even your shoes."

True to Hotch's word, as usual, you found every piece of your life carefully compartmentalized into cardboard boxes, lined up carefully in the office that now doubled as your temporary room. There was an odd sense of dislocation in finishing your workday and needing only to count about thirty steps before arriving at your room.

You swung the door closed, the sound sealing the room as a deep sigh wrapped around you and you started sifting through the boxes. The pullout couch serving as your bed was less than appealing, its worn fabric making you grimace internally. Nevertheless, you diverted your attention, busying yourself with the organizing of your extensive collection of things. Spencer would definitely shake his head at the sight of the vast amount of clothes you had brought.

The irony wasn't lost on you; surrounded by the office's ceaseless motion, yet you felt more alone than in the stillness of your own apartment. God, this was pathetic, and you needed a drink, but you had a nagging suspicion the office handbook would have a thing or two to say about that. You spent a solid two hours attempting to infuse the sterile space with a touch of home, it wasn't perfect (at all), but it would have to do.

Rossi knocks on the doorframe, poking his head in with a grin. "I didn't realize we were redecorating the bureau in shades of bubblegum," he teases. "How you doing, kid?"

"Actually, it's blush," you correct with a mock-serious tone, meeting his smile with one of your own. "I'm fine," you insist, but Rossi's knowing look prompts a quick add-on. "I am, really, I mean I've always said I wanted my own office."

"An office with a view of the bullpen, no less. You're living the dream," he says, his eyes scanning the room. "Need any help with anything? Or anything else from your place? Maybe your favorite mug to make feel more like home?"

"Don't worry, I'm already one step ahead of you," you assure him, revealing a drawer brimming with mugs.

Rossi lets out a low appreciative whistle. "Why am I not surprised?" he chuckles with a broad grin. "Well, I'm heading out for the night. Remember, I'm just a call away if you need anything. And Hotch is still here, buried in paperwork as usual."

He left, and you were alone--a cue to try and cling to some normalcy of your routine; you drew the blinds and slipped into the comfort of your pajamas. You hauled yourself off to the office bathroom, reluctantly at that, and proceeded to attend to your skincare, brush your hair, and polish your smile with a thorough teeth brushing.

Eyeing the hallway warily, you made a silent exit from the bathroom, the carpet softening your footfalls. But in your rush to avoid prying eyes, you crashed into a solid wall of a figure, the force sending you tumbling backward. You hit the floor with a muted thud, your ass hitting the ground, legs splayed inelegantly in front of you. Your eyes rose to meet the firm, penetrating look of Hotch. Of fucking course.

There was a pause as Hotch's eyes drank in the sight of your flushed complexion and the wide, doe-like eyes that seemed to capture the light just so. He felt like his heart could stop then and there. And he knew it was wrong, but he certainly liked the sight of you sprawled below him. He blinked, breaking the trance, and offered a concerned, "Are you okay?" His hands were outstretched, ready to pull you back to your feet. 

Your cheeks turned a deeper shade as you held onto Hotch's hand, the feeling unexpectedly comforting, rough in yours but nice. "What? Oh, yeah, I'm all good, sorry about that," you managed to say, the words squeaking out a tad too eagerly. 

You stood up, and his closeness was all-consuming. You were suddenly intensely aware of every breath, every throb of your heart, and your mind went blank; the usual stream of thoughts replaced by a buzzing silence.

His eyes held yours for a fraction longer than necessary before he stepped back, creating a respectful distance. The hallway's warmth seemed to dissipate with the space, leaving you with an unexpected stab of disappointment. 

"Rossi said you'd be here. Anything I can do to help?" 

You rationalized the offer as a gesture of your goodwill, but a small part, well a big part, of you knew just wanted to be close to him, to be alone with him maybe--in the office, after hours, in his office. This was weird, I mean, you'd always admired your Unit Chief, but this was different. You chalked it up to the day's unfortunate series of events--you were tired, and lonely, and you needed desperately to snap out of it before you made a fool out of yourself.

"No, you need to rest. It's been a long day, and you've been through enough." He paused, his gaze assessing you. "How are you holding up?"

"At this rate, I'll need a sign that says 'I'm fine,' to stop the check-ins." Although you silently doubted that would deter him. You gesture to the surroundings. "And this? It's like a sleepover at work. Just hoping this so-called hit man doesn't show up."

Hotch internally recoiled at your words, leaving him with the sensation of a cold grasp tightening around his heart. He cleared his throat, the joke falling flat in the gravity of his concern. "I'll be here for a while longer. If you need anything, don't hesitate to come find me," he managed a nod before retreating to his office.

A while longer? You knew Hotch was a workaholic, but it now occurred to you that he must never sleep. Quickly, you gathered your scattered belongings, and made your way to your office.

The pull-out couch seemed even less inviting than you remembered, if that was possible. You perched on the edge, the metallic frame cold through the thin mattress. As you lay down, the couch seemed to swallow you in its awkward angles. Perfect. Tossing and turning, you struggled to find a comfortable spot. Eventually, exhaustion won over discomfort, the rhythm of your own breathing lulling you into a fitful sleep.

Your eyes flickered open at some point during the night and the blinds drifted apart, as if by an unseen hand, and through the gap, your eyes fell on a hooded figure, the face not visible in the dim light. Your muscles locked in terror, an icy fear clawing its way up your spine as you tried to move--to reach for your gun, to call out for Hotch, to do anything. But as if imprisoned by an invisible force, you could only watch, confined to the bed, as the figure crept towards the door. 

A scream tore from your throat, a raw and piercing sound that ricocheted off the walls and echoed through your eyes. This was it, you thought. 

Then, in an instant, you were awake and disoriented, your breaths coming in short bursts, and your body covered in a sheen of cold sweat. Your fingers clenched the sheets, the fabric twisting in your grasp as you fought to decipher what was reality. Your eyes snapped to the blinds, half-expecting to see the figure from your dream materialize, but the emptiness beyond them slowly calmed your racing heart.

With a throat dry as parchment and your pulse still echoing in your ears, you drifted from your room towards the break room. As you ambled past Hotch's office, you paused. The door, slightly ajar, felt like an invitation. Despite knowing better, a foggy curiosity nudged your feet forward. With a shaky breath, you eased the door open wider and slipped inside. 

His office felt different at night--it was quieter, more personal, and you felt like an intruder on Hotch's private world. You took a moment, absorbing the sight of his meticulously organized desk, the case files that were always present.

It was tempting to try to piece together the man from his workspace, but you held back. As you turned to leave, a familiar scent stopped you--the subtle hint of his cologne hanging in the air. It wrapped around you, easing the tension that had sunk into your limbs. Almost without thinking, you found yourself sinking into the couch.

The room, infused with his distinct scent, seemed to have your blinking growing heavier, more intentional. You nestled deeper into the cushions; the fabric familiar beneath your fingers, lulling you into a sense of security. Just five minutes, you thought.

Hotch's steps were slow, his eyelids having a hard time staying open as he made his way through the bullpen. He carried his briefcase, the leather handle worn and conformed to his hand. He contemplated a detour to your office, a silent check-in to ease his mind, but he dismissed the idea--you were probably still asleep, and he'd definitely look like a creep. Reaching his own office, he noticed the door ajar, a sliver of morning light spilling through the gap.

He stepped into the room, and time seemed to stand still as his gaze landed on the couch. There you were, fast asleep on his couch. Your hand lay gently under your cheek, a makeshift pillow softening the hard angles beneath, while your nose gave the faintest twitches. Your lips were parted as if mid-whisper and strands of your hair were splayed in a disarrayed crown around your head. He knew that in no way could that have been comfortable. It hurt his back just looking at you, but still you looked so peaceful.

He moved with quiet steps, heat creeping up his neck as he placed his things on the desk. Turning back to you, he couldn't help but notice the gentle dishevelment of your pajamas, buttons undone in innocent disarray, the fabric parting to reveal the gentle slope of your breasts. He felt an odd mix of emotions--a gentle chiding for finding you in such state, and the guilt of finding the sight so undeniably sweet. 

A quiet cough escaped him, more out of habit than necessity, as he approached a cabinet where blankets were neatly stacked--a nod to many nights spent just as you were. He draped one over you, his movements slow and unhurried, shielding you from potential curious eyes before finding his normal place behind the wooden desk.

He tried to focus--really, he did. I mean, he had a towering pile of paperwork and responsibilities that demanded his attention. But despite his best efforts, his gaze involuntarily drifted to you time and time again. It was as if he needed visual confirmation of your steady breathing to assure himself that you were okay. He thought about you here all night, alone, and he found his knuckles whiten against the grip of his pen. He knew you had security on you at all times, but somehow, he found no comfort in that.

Hotch's eyes flicked to the clock--7:30 am. You still had at least another half an hour before you technically needed to start work, although truth be told he would let you sleep as long as your body allowed. There was no way in hell he was going to disturb you when you looked so content. 

As Hotch worked, the morning light grew stronger, casting a warm glow over his desk. It was nearly 9 am when the sound of shifting fabric eventually roused you. You were waking up, blinking away the remnants of sleep, confusion etched on your face. As your eyes caught sight of the clock and Hotch, mortification set it. 

"Oh my gosh, Hotch. I am so sorry," you blurted out, embarrassment coloring your cheeks. "You could've woken me up--I... I should've set an alarm. And I shouldn't even be here, but I can explain, sort of..."

In a flurry of motion, you leapt from the couch, only to feel a sudden tug at your chest as a button from your top snagged on a stray thread. The fabric pulled open, revealing way more than what was appropriate for your boss to see. Your face turned a shade redder as you scrambled to cover up. Hotch, momentarily sidetracked by the sight of the cleavage of your tits once again, quickly refocused and interrupted your flustered explanations.

"It's fine," he assured. "Given everything that's happened, you needed the rest." He nodded towards the couch. "You're always welcome to sleep here if you need to--though I can't promise it'll be any more comfortable next time."

"Oh no, it was super comfortable, really," you insist, despite the awkwardness clinging to your words. Hotch gives you a look that says he's not entirely convinced. "Okay, well, I'm going to uh... go," you mumble, stopping short at the door with a sudden concern.

Hotch understands immediately and offers, "They're all in the briefing room--won't be out for a while."

With a relieved nod, and minimal eye contact, you dash out, hoping to reach your office unnoticed. But because the world just hated you these past days, just as you're rushing by, Morgan's hands come to your shoulders to stop you.

"Easy there, mama," he teases, a smile on his face. But as he gets a good look at your attire, his grin grows wider. "What in the world...?" he starts, laughter in his voice. He glances from you to Hotch's office door, then back again. "Hold up, hold up--you didn't... with Hotch? Are you?"

"What? No, Morgan, absolutely not! Why would you even--oh my god," you gasp, wishing the ground would swallow you whole. God, I mean, the day hasn't even started, and you needed it to end. Realizing your voice has risen in your flustered state, you quickly lower it to a harsh whisper, your eyes darting around to ensure no one overheard. "Why would you even suggest that?"

"Um, maybe because you're making a grand exit from the boss man's office in your PJs? Just a wild guess."

"No, Morgan, it's not what you think," you insist, but your attention snaps to the sound of the team's voices nearing the door. "I don't have time for this," you mutter, darting back to your office. 

In a whirlwind, you shed the pajamas, slip into your work attire, and hastily run a brush through your hair. Good enough. 

You threw yourself into work, the stack of papers becoming a welcome distraction, a rare sense of relief rather than the familiar dread. It was a considerable effort to divert your mind from the distractions--Hotch, the hit man, and Morgan's incessant teasing. Not that anyone would believe that you and Hotch were together; he was the very definition of sophisticated, handsome, and successful, and you were just, well, you.

Not that there was anything wrong with you. You liked yourself just fine; you laughed too loudly at jokes, talked to your houseplants as if they were your old friends, and you had an odd fascination with weather patterns. These things made you wholly you. You just knew you couldn't be more different from Hotch.

With a bit of luck and purposeful avoiding, your day passed smoothly, sparing you any unnecessary run-ins with Hotch. Everyone had gone home for the day which is why you stood in the break room attempting some baking recipe from Pinterest. 

The slippers on your feet padded against the carpet as you hummed around the room. With swift motions, you ushered the coffee cake batter into the oven, then turned to tackle the mess you had created on the countertops. Cleaning as you go wasn't your usual style, but office break room didn't seem like the place for your usual creative sprawl. 

Your phone had buzzed incessantly with Penelope's calls--her offers the keep you company is why you loved her, but you weren't going to subject her to that, no matter how many times she said she didn't mind.

Hotch's office was quiet, save for the soft scratching of his pen against paper as he finally closed his files. He moved into bullpen and as he passed the breakroom, the soft hum of the light and faint sound of movement drew him in. There you were, engrossed in tidying up, with your hair casually gathered above your shoulders and wearing your sweats, Hotch found him instinctively pausing to watch. 

He knew he shouldn't bother you, knew he was likely the last person you'd want to see, yet he found himself rooted to the spot, his gaze fixed on you, the warmth in his chest intensifying with each fleeting second.

The moment you turned and saw a figure, a sharp gasp cut through the silence, and the icing in your grasp became a sweet projectile that flew across the room. Relief washed over you as you realized who it was.

"Jeez, Hotch, give me a heart attack why don't you," you said, half-laughing as your heart rate settled. "Especially when there's a hitman who might beat you to the punch."

Hotch parted his lips to speak, but you were quicker, a stream of thoughts tumbling out before you could stop them. "I thought everyone was gone. You weren't at your desk earlier--oh wait, you had that meeting with the DOJ, right? Did they have anything about the people who marked me?" 

In your haste, you closed the gap between you, and only then did you spot the icing on his cheek. "Oh, sorry about that, Hotch," you said with an apologetic grin, reaching out as if to wipe it away. 

As your palm made contact with his skin, a shared realization of the intimacy of the gesture washed over you. Time seemed to slow as your thumb traced a lingering path through the icing, your whisper barely audible, "There."

The word seemed to hang in the air as you froze, the proximity suddenly overwhelming, your breath caught in your throat. Hotch's backward step was almost imperceptible, but it was enough. You cleared your throat awkwardly, cheeks warming with a flush. "Um, did you need something?"

Hotch shook his head slightly, "No, just wanted to check on you before I head out."

You gave a thumbs up, mustering a smile. "Well, consider me checked."

Hotch nodded, his expression unreadable. "Goodnight," he said, to which you echoed in response as you watched him leave.

Alone now, you slumped against the counter, your hand pressed to your face. Consider me checked? God, someone needed to tape your mouth shut.

[wyniepooh]

aaron

hotch doesn't really like when fellow members of the team calls him by his first name. for you, however, maybe he can make an exception.

traumatized!hotch core, mentions of stabbing and TW: foyet 😔. The team investigates a case that reminds hotch of f*yet, he is not well and reader sees right through him. bau!reader, hurt/comfort/fluff that turns into something a lil more towards the end slightly bc it’s hotch so i can’t help myself .

hotch preferred when everyone called him by his last name. he never explicitly said it, but it was an unspoken rule of sorts. whether it was hotchner, hotch, or even whatever nickname penelope often came up with, he didn’t mind. as long as it wasn’t aaron.

'aaron' felt too personal to use with his co-workers. too intimate. as much as you guys were like a family, hearing aaron come out of spencer’s mouth would be as strange as a quiet crime scene.

and hell, was this crime scene hectic. the aftermath of a negotiation involving drawn weapons was always hazy— body overfilled with adrenaline and running on approximately three hours of sleep. all the law enforcement agents you could think of was present, interviewing people, collecting samples. all the lights and voices didn't help with the anxiety. but this scenario in particular had everyone scrambling to collect their thoughts.

hotch, especially. the mo of the unsub was eerily similar to that of foyet— the intricate stabbing that ensured the victim suffered long and hard but was still conscious enough to feel every inch of the next stab. the whole team was aware of the elephant stealing all the oxygen in the room, but no one really knew what to say or do given hotch’s constant stern affirmation that he was fine.

and so the whole team walked into the local police department in silence, hotch leading as the rest of you trailed behind. tired of the crickets practically sounding, you cleared your throat and exclaimed,

“so, does anyone want to get some food? i saw an authentic taco sta-“

your words trailed off as your eyes followed the figure in front of you, who was walking away haggardly towards the washrooms. you turned back towards your teammates, all of them shrugging and letting out a sigh. eventually, they all walked away with a promise to fulfill your hungry request and disappeared to their work stations.

you stood outside the bathrooms for at least five minutes, taking a step forward, then back. forward, then back. finally, you shook your head quickly, straightened your shoulders, and pushed the door into the room.

"h-hey! this is the men's-"

you didn't bother to acknowledge the young police officer by the urinal who was frantically pulling up his pants. you simply lifted an extended arm and nodded to silence him. you walked to the front of the stall where you spotted hotch's perfectly polished shoes, and stopped. once the guy left, you knocked on the door.

“hotch? i know you’re in there.”

silence. you began tapping your foot and crossed your arms, blowing out a rush of air. exasperated, you repeated again, “hotchner. open up. please.”

a click enabled you to release a breath of relief, the door opening to reveal hotch sitting on the closed toilet, head looking down with his hands crossed in between his legs.

“listen… i know you said you’re fine and that you're good to keep going, but we both know that’s bullshit. we know you. too well, even. we can tell that you're struggling, whether you like it or not. it’s obvious this case has brought up…”

your voice progressively got more silent as you noticed the response you got. silence. it wasn’t until you stopped talking did you realize his rapidly rising shoulders for each breath he took, and the way he fidgeted with his hands to hide the shaking. you immediately knelt down to his level, putting both hands on his shoulder.

“hotch? hey-“

“i'm sorry,” he mumbled.

“what?”

“i’ve been dismissive the whole day. i want to say it’s simply because i didn’t sleep last night, or the night before that, and that is part of it but… the reason i haven’t been able to sleep is because of the case. i thought the therapy was enough, i thought it would be fine once i was distracted with work,” he sighed, “i know i’ve made you all uncomfortable and i don’t know what to do about it. i wish i-“

“hotch.”

“-could just open up. i’m so sor-“

“aaron.”

he stopped his sentence midway and found your concerned eyes.

you chuckled, “if you say sorry one more time, i’m going to really make you sorry.”

it took a second for aaron to muster out a laugh as well, but eventually he did, and the sound put a genuine smile on your face.

still kneeling, your hand came up to softly caress his jaw. “don’t apologize for how you’re feeling, aaron. i’ll admit that the atmosphere is a little more tense than usual, but let's be honest here," you dropped your hand from his face, “we're all tense. we're profilers, for gods sake. what are we but tense?"

aaron gave a nod of approval, his lip curving into a small smile.

"and also, don't feel obligated to talk to us. everyone has their own coping methods. we're just reminding you that if you do need a person to talk to... we're here to lend an ear. and of course, we hope you remember that it's more than okay to take a break or admit you're uncomfortable. we get it. we won’t judge.”

you feigned a thinking face, “well, rossi might judge a little, but at least we won’t!”

he snickered and nodded again at your words, taking a deep breath. his hands had stopped shaking and his breaths seem to be more regulated. you smiled at him one last time before the both of you began to stand up.

as aaron straightened himself, he realized something. he didn't like the others calling him by his first name, but there was something different about the way his name sounded rolling off of your tongue. in fact, he would do anything to hear you say 'aaron' again.

before you could both exit, the stall door behind you suddenly closed. a surprised ‘oh’ left your lips, and aaron looked equally as confused. the inclosed space pushed you closer to him, and just for a second, you saw his eyes flicker to your lips. you expected him to open the door like a gentlemen or apologize for the close proximity, but nothing ever came. you opened your mouth to say something, but all you could breathe was a quiet whisper of his name before he crashed his lips onto yours.

-

a/n: the washroom stall door was truly a paid actor.

[strawbeerossi]

Warmth

Pairing: Gn!Reader x Aaron Hotchner

Description: When you end up leaving your winter clothes at home before leaving for a case in Alaska, you’re convinced you’re gonna freeze to death. Thank god for Aaron.

Content Warnings/Other: Course language, case matter (nothing specific), tooth rotting fluff, mutual pining, little bit of awkwardness, a nice cuddle session in the end for the ole razzle dazzle

Word Count: 1.7K

Navigation || Masterlist || Request

Fulfilling a request for my beloved @cr1minalskies, I hope you enjoy sweetie. 💐 I did change a few things up, however I still think I captured what you were looking for!

A/N: Also it’s my first gender neutral fic! I’m gonna try and do more Gn!reader and male!reader fics as well to branch out from my typical fem!reader

PS: This wasn't proofread, I just let my heart guide my fingers in writing this. Sorry if it's rough

How did you manage to forget a jacket? You knew that you were going to Alaska for a case and you knew damn well that the weather conditions would call for temperatures cold enough to turn you into an ice pop. It should’ve been something that was triple checked for; a jacket, a beanie, a sweater, a scarf, mittens, anything to combat the freezing temps.

Instead, here you were, arms pulled into your shirt as your bare arms were hugging your torso, trying to use your own body heat to bring warmth to your limbs.

Aaron had quizzed you on what you packed in your go-bag the previous night when you were being called in to go over the case at hand. You were confident to say that you were all set and packed enough warm garments to keep you toasty for a month straight.

What a big liar you were. It wasn’t that you purposefully chose to be freezing to the point where you felt your fingers were going to fall off, you just managed to grab the wrong bag out of your closet.

You strived yourself on having one bag for warmer weather and one for colder weather that you claimed to have labeled and ready for any last minute cases. 

Weren’t you surprised when you pulled out a pair of shorts this morning, which ultimately led to you throwing every article of clothing out of their rightful spots in search of your sweater. 

The end was near, that was all you knew. This weather wasn’t easy, especially due to it being mid-December. There was fresh snow blanketing the grass, the impending snowfall giving a harsher chill to the air.

You always thought that you’d be taken out by an unsub in the line of duty, an honorable death that had meaning.. What cruel fate to know that it was going to end with you being a popsicle instead.

With a blanket wrapped around your shoulders, you were currently standing in the middle of the police precinct. You fiercely denied any kind of jacket from your work colleagues, even if Derek was trying to force his coat on you to cease the incessant chattering of your teeth.

Last thing you needed was for them to be frozen just because they were hellbent on helping you. That would just leave plenty of guilt on your end.

Aaron had taken notice of you earlier in the day though, his eyes fixated on your chattering teeth, blue lips, and rosy cheeks. You were freezing, so bad that you were shaking in your boots and yet you kept refusing jackets, even Spencer’s purple scarf that he’d never share under any other circumstances.

He’d finally had enough though when your nose was almost as red as Rudolph’s. 

“As useful as you’d be navigating us through a winter storm,” Aaron began, a play on the old reindeer tale as he was taking off his puffer jacket and placing it on your shoulders. Unlike the others though, he held the coat in place while you tried fighting him on it.

“Please take it. I don’t need an agent in the hospital with pneumonia.” He stated in a simple tone. He may have had a hard exterior with a tough demeanor, however he wasn’t heartless and about to let anyone freeze.

However with the harsh cold outside, it was his turn to shiver. He knew he couldn’t go for a few days without a jacket, especially knowing this case could last days, maybe even a week because of how deep this damn lead was buried. 

So, he’d managed to slip away in the middle of the day, en route to one of the shops in town where he could get a jacket. However, this jacket was for himself. As much as he loved his thick jacket, he would have to admit that you looked much better in it. 

When he caught up to the team again, he acted as if nothing changed, even if you were paying attention to his new jacket, your heart dropping. You knew he’d end up freezing and here you were, selfishly wearing his jacket while he went out to buy a new one. 

You felt like an ass, your brain not being fair by not reminding you that Aaron forced the coat onto your shoulders and how he practically begged you to wear it in order to avoid you getting sick.

Later in the night, you were gonna make it a point to go talk to Aaron, to return the jacket and tell him that you’d reimburse him the money for the jacket he’d gotten. 

“Going to your boyfriend’s room, Y/N?” The words made you scoff, turning your head while making an obscene hand gesture at Derek. “Fuck off, man. I’m just going to return his jacket.” You huffed, unable to help the heat rising in your cheeks. 

He was your boss and one of your close friends, although you knew that some part of you yearned to see Aaron in a less professional setting and a more intimate one. There was a delusional part of you that assumed that he’d reciprocate those feelings, that he’d want to be with you and give his all to you. 

Vulnerability wasn’t easy for Aaron nor was it easy for you. The walls you both had up seemed impenetrable, even the toughest equipment not being able to knock them down.

That was what killed the hope of anything serious happening between you both. He was your boss anyway, you figured it’d be an HR nightmare in regards to filling out paperwork, fighting transfers, the lot of it.

After a brief knock against the hotel door, you let your hands hold the jacket close to your chest. Even in the hotel, it was freezing. You had on some sweat pants and a long sleeve shirt and yet you were still shaking, the socks on your feet not doing anything to shield your feet from the freezing tile floor. 

Why did it have to be Alaska? It could’ve been in Florida, or maybe even Texas. At least in those states, you wouldn’t be freezing to death. You’d opt for extreme heat to combat the chill.

You were being taken out of your thoughts as soon as you heard two locks clicking and the door opening. What was behind the door though had your eyes nearly bulging out of your sockets. This man was shirtless with pajama pants that hung low on his hips. 

“How haven’t you frozen to death yet?” You asked, dumbfounded. You were covered head to toe and you were freezing but this man didn’t have a shirt nor socks and he seemed comfortable.

“You’re being dramatic, Y/N. It isn’t bad inside the hotel at all.” He commented, the normal stoic expression being broken by a lopsided smile. “You wouldn’t find me like this outside though.” He chuckled, now stepping out of your way as an invitation to come into his room.

“What are you doing up? Not that I don’t mind talking to you, you just seemed exhausted.” 

“Well, I uh.. I wanted to return your jacket. I noticed you went out and bought a new one, it bothered me to know that I made you freeze while I was comfortable.”

The words had his eyebrows knitted together in confusion. “I offered you my jacket because it bothered me that you looked like you were locked in a meat locker. I’d say we are even, hmm?”

“Aaron,” You let out an exasperated sigh. “I just want to return it.”

“That won’t be necessary.”

“What?’

“You look better in it than me. I couldn’t wear it around the team again without them telling me that I don’t look near as good as you.” 

The words made your heart beat rapidly in your chest. He thought you looked good in his jacket?

“Y/N, I’m serious. Keep it. It fits you nicely and I know for a fact that you’ll be warm. I won’t have to worry about you not having anything warm either.” Aaron had offered a smile before watching as you hugged the jacket without realizing, looking like you were going to faint. 

“I don’t mean to be forward,” Those words made you feel like you were going to puke. “But I was just about to relax for the night. Wanna watch a movie with me?”

This was a dream. You’re dreaming. Aaron Hotchner asked you to spend time with him. One on one.

“Sure!” You said quickly while clearing your throat soon after. Smooth like crunchy peanut butter. “I mean, yeah. I would love to. I am freezing in my room anyway and yours seems warmer..” 

The black jacket was being placed on the nightstand in the room while you approached the bed to sit down, Aaron nodding as he was seated beside you. “I’m sure it’s because my room is warmer.” There was a hint of teasing in his tone while he leaned against the headboard, holding up the blanket for you. 

The minute that you were crawling beside him, you could already feel a warmth radiating from his bare skin. 

Suddenly, you weren’t shaking from the air anymore. Your cheeks were pink, your hands on your lap as you stayed put beside Aaron. This seemed asinine. You never pictured him being the type to ask for company on a whim. If you were honest, you always assumed he’d be asking people to leave him alone instead.

It seemed silly because you’d known him for years now, however it felt like meeting him all over again. You awkwardly sat, gaze on the small television that was on some random channel just to fill in the silence. 

“Y/N? You alright?” There was that concerned tone again. “I’m okay! Just.. Cold.” You laughed, rubbing the back of your neck, gaze falling on your close friend on the team as he was offering a small smile, his arm wrapping loosely around your shoulders. “Well, you can get a little closer, if you want. I really don’t mind. I’ve been told that I’m like a human furnace.”

Well, he was hot, kept you very warm, and he was able to make you comfortable. Maybe that really was the case. “You’re sure it’s not weird?” Although your body was already leaning against his, your head was unable to help itself as it rested against his shoulder.

“Not weird at all.”  

[messylxve]

burned hearts | aaron hotchner x reader

part three

content warning : psychotic break, gun, gunshots, injured reader, hospital/ER setting, sad love confessions, happy endings ( I love happy endings)

pt 1 pt 2

If the silence before was sickening, you didn’t even know how to describe it now. You spared him no words as you got out the car and made your way to your apartment.

Aaron only took that as a sign to follow a far distance behind.

Your apartment felt so fitting. It was an amalgamation of everything that reminded him of you and Aaron couldn’t help but feel a sense of belonging in being there.

“I was forced to let go of three officers in the past year,” you uttered as you sat in front of your computer, typing away.

“Two moved away, one was let go for failure of a psych eval.”

Hotch frowned at that one. Placing a hand on the back of your chair, he leaned in close to get a good look at the screen.

“Pull up what you have on him.”

Your glance shifted over to him through your peripheral. He was close, his cheek nearly brushing against yours as his eyes stayed trained on the screen.

Catching yourself, you cleared your throat. “You’re breathing down my neck.”

Quicker than ever, Aaron backed away, clearing his throat as well.

You frowned, your attention now fully on him. “Martin Johnson, described as a family man, always talked about them in work when given the chance. But…”

Aaron looked over at you. “But?”

“They all recently passed. Car accident. Johnson was the only survivor.”

“How many people in his family?”

Your frowned deepened as the dot began to connect in your mind. “Four. His wife…two daughters…and a son.”

“Matches our victims.”

You looked up at Aaron. “He’s recreating his own family.”

Aaron fell silent in agreement. "Do you have an address?"

You nodded your head wordlessly. "Printing off his information now."

"Good, we need to get this back to the rest of my team as soon as possible."

He left your side as you waited by the printer and found himself lingering by the door to your office. His eyes trailed around the room, taking it in again. On a small side table, he saw a collection of pictures in frames of your family.

His face remained stoic, but he could feel the ghost of a smile creeping on his face seeing the pictures of you so happy.

However as his eyes dusted over each one, they snagged on something else: a slip of paper. It looked worn and old. Crumpled, folded, and possibly even cried on, multiple times over.

He would have passed it up had it not been for the pretty handwriting marking it.

'Aaron,' it read.

Instinctively, he grasped it. He held it with so much care, so much cautiousness as if it was to crumble in his hands.

He moved to open it, but it left his hands so quickly, snatched away by you.

"Don't touch my things," you grumbled, storming past him. "C'mon I have the information, we need to get back."

How could things have gone so wrong so quickly?

It was barely even half an hour ago that Aaron Hotchner decided to unturn the memories of a night you didn't ever want to touch again.

It seemed so major in those moments, but now, staring down the barrel of an unsub's gun, you found yourself rethinking every single decision you've ever made.

"Johnson." Your voice wavered as you released your gun from the holster, holding it in the air to show you meant no harm. "You don't want to do this."

"Don't tell me what I want!" His eyes were crazed and rimmed red. They shot all over the place, at the officers, the guns. At Aaron.

The fear clouding Aaron’s eyes squeezed at your heart. No one else could see it, but you did. You always did.

Finally, Martin looked back at you.

"All of you! Abandoned me! When I needed it most!"

"Johnson," an officer barked. "Back away fro—,"

"Get away," Martin screamed, stepping even closer to you, the gun pointed at the bridge of your nose. "Or I will shoot."

"No one is going to shoot, Martin," your words came out in a single breath. Despite the way your hands trembled so furiously, your voice never wavered. "I promise you, just put the gun down."

You saw the hesitation in his stance now. "My family was hurt," he cried. "No one helped me. I put them back together and no one helped me. And now! Now you just want to tear them away from me!"

"Martin."

Your eyes fell away from the man at the sound of a new voice. His voice.

"You didn't get the help you needed before, but we can help your family now. We can't do anything unless you put the gun down."

Everything slowed down in your eyes. You watched as Martin lowered the gun. No longer aimed between your eyes, you slowly let your arms fall to your side. Your attention fell to Aaron and you found a semblance of peace in the center of chaos.

It was calming.

You didn’t realize how much you yearned for that specific kind of peace. That kind of peace that only came from him.

But as quickly as that peace came, it washed away.

You saw the anger in Smith when he first heard the news of his pregnant wife's disappearance. You saw the anger in his eyes when you released him from the case. You saw the anger that burned away at his face when you threatened to withhold his gun.

Yet you never did. You should have taken it. Maybe that would have saved you.

You didn't know where or who the gunshots came from, but you know one of them hit you. You didn't know if you'd live or die, but you knew that between the stress of this case, the resurfaced emotions brought up from seeing Aaron again, and the impact of the gun, your body gave in.

The last thing you saw before it all went black was Aaron.

What a beautiful sight it was.

Aaron stayed by your side the entire time. He never left until he was absolutely forced to. Even then, he couldn’t find it in himself to be very far.

“How’s it looking,” Derek asked Rossi once he finally arrived to the hospital.

“l/n will be okay. Bullet only came in through the shoulder, so it’s a quick recovery.”

Morgan crossed his arms, leaning on the wall next to Rossi. “And Hotch?”

“What about him?”

Derek looked at the man further down the hall. His hands was clasped into each other and his knee bounced repeatedly as he recited unheard words to himself over and over.

“You’re kidding right?”

Rossi spared the man another glance, letting out a deep sigh. “I think he’ll be okay.”

“Are you Aaron Hotchner?”

Hotch doesn’t think he’s ever moved so fast, but he was on his feet quicker than he could even process his actions. “I- yes—that’s. That’s me.”

The nurse smiled softly. “She’s asking for you.”

Rossi could help but let out a chuckle watching Aaron hesitate before opening the door.

No words could sum up what Aaron felt. He supposed fear would be an appropriate word, but it wasn’t all fear. He felt as if an accumulation of all of his life choices waited behind that door.

In a way, it was.

With a final anxious breath, he pushed the door open.

On the other side, there he saw you. You looked oddly uncomfortable. You squirmed in your hospital bed and chewed on your fingernails as you waited for him. And when you saw him, you sat up straight and cleared your throat awkwardly, almost presenting yourself to him.

It reminded Aaron so much of when he first met you. That authoritative Chief of police personality had faded away into this. Something so vulnerable and fragile.

“Aaron…hi.” Your voice was so soft now.

“Hi.” His sigh died upon his lips when he saw you. “Can I…,” he motioned for the chair next to you.

“You don’t have to ask to sit Aaron.” You couldn’t help but breathe out a laugh, but that smile faded just as quick as it came, pain shooting up your arm.

“Don’t hurt yourself trying to make me laugh.”

You watched him as he pulled a chair up to your bed. You couldn’t help but notice the way your hand twitched, almost as if he was holding himself back from grasping your own. Well the one that wasn’t tied back by a sling.

The two of you sat in silence, the both waiting of the other to say something.

You invited him in with hope the words would magically come to you, but you felt the seconds tick by and all you did was get lost in his eyes.

His eyes were brown, but to you it never felt like just brown. It was that gentle shade that for a major portion of your life, you felt so much solace in.

Painfully, your eyes broke away from his saddening ones.

“I…I don’t know how to do this.”

You didn’t see it, but you could practically feel the way Aaron’s eyebrows dipped down in confusion.

“Do what?”

“This,” you tossed your free hand up in exasperation and glared at the fabric of your blanket. “I—, I had so many things I wanted to tell you, I need to tell you but…I don’t even know which words to start with.”

You didn’t know what to expect from him. Some part of him expected you to walk away like you did him, but instead, you found his warm grasp engulfing your own.

He held your hand with such a gentle hold, you couldn’t help but squeeze it to ensure it was really there. Your eyes moved up slowly, meeting his with hesitance and when you finally met his devastating browns, your heart broke for the thousandth time that day.

“I think you already know the words you need to say.”

He didn’t have to say its name for you to know what he was talking about. You bit the inside of your cheek and nodded to bag where your clothes would be.

Wordlessly, Aaron let his hand abandon yours to stand. You watched him sift through your things until he pulled out that infamous piece of notebook paper from your abandoned pant pocket.

He moved at an unbearable pace back to you, gave the note a once over, and passed the paper to you.

Back in your hands, you had this great urge to burn it, or throw it, or drown it away so you’d never have to face it. But you knew that it wouldn’t matter anyways.

“You know,” you breathed out. “You’d laugh but I think I’ve read this so many times, I think I memorized it. I-,” your voice cracked, tears found themselves fight their way to the surface. “I don’t think I even need this.” You waved the note in the air before letting it slap down onto your leg.

“I’m not forcing you to read this,” he reassured, placing a tentative hand on your knee. “You don’t owe me anything.”

“Yes, I do.” Your words came quick. You weren’t sure about much anymore but you were sure about this at the very least. “You deserve an explanation for why I left. Why I really left.”

You didn’t open the note. You didn’t even touch it. Instead, you found a sense of fleeting comfort in staring into the empty space between Aaron and the door.

“Aaron,” you recited. “I feel like I need to preface this by telling you that I don’t expect some grand response out of this. I don’t expect you to feel obligated in reciprocating my feelings and I certainly don’t expect you to feel the need to choose anything.

I’m telling you this because I consider you my best friend and I believe, best friends do not and should not lie to each other. I can’t live with this weighing on me anymore and that is why I’m telling you this.

I…love you Aaron Hotchner.

I love you in a way a best friend shouldn’t love a best friend. And it hurts.”

You didn’t even notice the tears now streaming down your cheeks until a sob broke free from your breath. Your unopened letter laid free on your lap now as you moved to wipe your tears.

“It hurts so much, but I need you to know this because last night was a mistake. Not because I hated every moment of it, I didn’t.

It was a mistake because I’ve been lying to you. It was a mistake because I, as a best friend was supposed to help you grieve your breakup with Haley. Not throw myself at you in a moment of vulnerability.

I’m telling you this in hopes of moving past this because in the end, if I were to do something stupid, something I truly regret, I fear that I’d lose you and that…that would probably break me beyond repair.”

Through your own tears, you realized you had managed to successfully avoid Aaron’s eyes for the entirety of your monologue.

“How ironic of me,” you attempted to laugh off when the silence was just too much to bear.

“You’re doing it again,” Aaron noted.

You stopped yourself, looking down and then back at him. “I know.”

You watched as he process everything he heard. He blinked once. Then twice. Let out a breath of air and let his brows sink barely half an inch lower. “Do you know what I’ve always admired about you?”

This caught your attention.

“What?”

“You’ve always been so selfless. You worried so much about the happiness of others and it shined through in your best moments.”

It was now your turn to shake your head in confusion. “I don’t un—,”

“Please. Let me finish.”

“Sorry…”

You felt his hand leave your knee and find your hand once more. “But, it’s also always been your downfall. You’re so selfless, you forget to put yourself first. It always killed me to see you do it but I never said anything about it because I was young and stupid…”

You moved to disagree with that but he shot you a knowing look.

“I know things now that I wish I had half a brain to fathom then.”

He took your hand and joined it with his other do that now your hand fully disappeared into his own. “More than half of those things are how I feel about you. Us”

Your brows dipped down in vulnerability. “Us?”

“Yes. Us. I don’t know where we stand nor do I know where we go from here, but I know I’d rather figure it out with you in my life than acting like I never knew you at all. Because I love you.”

A final tear fell upon your smiling lips. “You love me?”

“Always.”

taglist: @mackannkees @gghostwriter @person-005

A/N: This is my first criminal minds fic so PLEASE leave criticism, I wanna know how I can improve