#thomas gibson x reader fluff | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hoe4hotchner · 3 months ago

Note

the team meeting aaron's lawyer!wife who's personality is similar to his + she's the best in her field

Langston & Bell | [A.H]

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Lawyer wife!reader | WC: 1.2k | CW: Not really anything except for a little law jargon and mentions of a case the BAU is working on.

A/N: My brain hurts from looking up law terminology, and I'm not even sure if I used all the words correctly

The glass doors of Langston & Bell opened as Hotch led the rest of his team inside. The air felt heavy—as they entered��from the scent of freshly brewed coffee and a faint lemony aroma.

The firm itself was one of the most prestigious ones in all of Virginia, and its reputation suited it. Everything about the space was designed to impress—shining marble floors in the lobby, towering bookshelves filled with thick leather-bound volumes of law books and journals, and abstract art that screamed of a space aimed to do business with rich and pretentious people.

Emily glanced around, clearly trying to process how they’d ended up here. “Langston & Bell?” she muttered under her breath. “Isn’t this place out of our league?”

“They’re not dealing with criminal justice,” Spencer pointed out. “They specialize in corporate litigation and high-profile estate law. The firm is known for taking on cases that require absolute discretion.” Emily tried her best not to roll her eyes at Spencer's outburst of knowledge but failed.

Hotch didn’t respond, he kept his pace steady as he approached the front desk. His usual stone-faced demeanor was on full display, his features—although set not completely in a frown—were unreadable. He seemed unbothered by the hushed stares they received from the staff as they had entered with their badges held out in front of them.

The receptionist, a young woman with a straight posture and a sharp smile, greeted them. “Good afternoon. How may I assist you?”

Hotch stepped forward, his voice even. “We’re with the FBI. We’re looking for the attorney who handled the probate case for Samuel Larkin.”

The receptionist’s fingers danced quickly over her keyboard, her expression unchanged. “That would be Attorney Hotchner.”

Dead silence.

Emily blinked. “I’m sorry, did you say Hotchner?”

“Yes,” the receptionist replied, unfazed, almost on the brink of annoyance. “Would you like me to see if she’s available?”

“She,” Morgan echoed, his brows furrowing a little as his gaze flipped from the receptionist to Hotch.

Before anyone could recover from their shock, the sound of sharp heal clicks echoed through the lobby.

“Aaron,” came a clear voice from behind. “If this is your idea of surprising me, I’ll admit it’s more creative than flowers. But I have a deposition in thirty minutes.”

The team turned as one, their collective gazes landing on the woman who had just entered the room. You were dressed in a tailored navy suit that emphasized your poised demeanor. Your expression was both curious and faintly amused as your eyes locked on Hotch.

“Counselor,” he greeted smoothly, his tone carrying a subtle warmth that the team rarely heard.

“Counselor?” Rossi asked, a slow grin forming as his gaze flicked between you and Hotch.

Your lips quirked up in a small smile as you approached, your heels clicking against the marble with each step. “I assume this is your team?”

“It is,” Hotch confirmed.

You turned your attention to the group, giving them a brief once-over with an expression that wasn’t unkind but clearly measured. “Well, where are my manners? I’m Y/N Hotchner, senior litigation partner here at Langston & Bell. And yes, I can see the wheels turning in all your heads.”

Morgan crossed his arms, already grinning. “Oh, I’ve got a lot of questions right now.”

You raised an eyebrow, unfazed. “Feel free to ask them, Agent Morgan. I’ve been cross-examined by some of the sharpest minds in the country—I’m sure I can handle you.”

JJ stepped forward, clearly trying to keep her surprise in check. “Wait, you’re married?”

You tilted your head toward Hotch, your expression softening just a fraction. “You didn’t tell them?”

“It never came up,” Hotch replied with a shrug, though the faint glimmer of amusement in his eyes didn’t escape you.

You shook your head, exhaling a soft laugh. “Aaron’s great at compartmentalizing, isn’t he? Well, to officially answer your question—yes, I’m his wife. And judging by your expressions, this is news to you.”

“Big news,” Emily muttered, still processing.

Hotch cleared his throat, subtly redirecting the conversation. “We need access to the probate records for Samuel Larkin. Anything that might help us build our case.”

Your demeanor shifted instantly, professionalism overtaking the playful edge. “Aaron, you know I can’t just hand over client information without a court order.”

“We’re only asking for publicly available records,” he clarified.

You studied him for a moment, a silent exchange passing between you. Then you turned to your assistant, who stood nearby. “Jane, pull the Larkin docket and bring me all publicly filed documents. Annotate them if you have time, and leave them on my desk before your shift ends.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Jane replied, already moving toward the elevator.

“You always find a way around the rules,” Hotch said, his voice was low but carrying a note of fondness.

“And you love that about me,” you shot back with a wink, your eyes glinting with mischief.

Morgan leaned closer to Emily, his voice just loud enough for her to hear. “I don’t know what’s more surprising—the fact that he’s married, the fact that she's a lawyer, or the fact that she might be scarier than him.”

Although Jane hadn't gone through the records yet, she sent you a digital copy as soon as she had found them. You walked the team through them with ease. Every legal term you used was calculated, giving away as little about your client as you could, while still helping your husband and his team. You made sure to translate every dense legal jargon into actionable insights every time you saw one of their faces pull an expression.

“Here,” you said, pointing to a transaction on the financial statement. “These wire transfers are from an offshore account linked to Larkin. It’s not evidence of criminal activity, but it raises enough red flags to warrant further investigation.” If Larkin found out you had helped the feds, you could be in big trouble, you thought as you revealed the account.

Spencer leaned in, his eyes lighting up with understanding. “If we trace the accounts, we might uncover a connection to our unsub.”

“Precisely,” you replied, offering him a small nod of approval.

By the time the team wrapped up, they had everything they needed to move forward. As they gathered their materials, you leaned against the edge of the table, folding your arms as you looked at Hotch.

“Dinner at seven?” you asked, your voice softer, the edge of professionalism giving way to something more personal.

“Seven,” he confirmed, his tone lighter than usual.

You smiled, leaning in just enough to lower your voice. “Try not to scare anyone off before then, okay?”

“No promises,” he replied, his lips twitching upward in the faintest of smiles.

As the team exited the building, Morgan shook his head in disbelief. “She is definitely scarier than Hotch”

Emily grinned. “I think I like her better.”

“I like her too,” Rossi added with a chuckle.

Hotch walked ahead, the faint smile still playing on his lips, but he didn’t say a word. He didn’t have to. The team had seen enough to know he’d married his perfect match—an equal who could still challenge him enough to keep him on his toes.

3K notes · View notes

augustjoy · 5 months ago

Text

Take A Seat.

A lil Blurb - Based on the following request: Please Aaron Hotchner x BAU! fem reader smut? like they are just lazily making out on the couch and things get hot? (Reader rides Hotch like her live depends on it and Hotch clingy for dear life while she does it)

Hotch x Fem Reader

Word count: 607

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

Warnings: My blog is 18+, minors DNI, Fem reader, pet names, SMUT, porn with no plot. Let me know if I missed any!

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

Aaron had just returned from a two-week long case, and you were feeling pretty needy. Jack had been spending the night with his aunt and you had never been more grateful for that fact. The second Aaron had walked through the door you had pounced on him.

That was nearly thirty minutes ago now. His go bag, shoes, and suit jacket long forgotten in the entryway.

Now, Aaron was sat on the couch with you straddling his lap. Your shirt had been tossed over somewhere near the coffee table and the buttons on Aarons had been pulled open in a heated frenzy.

He was sucking deep purple marks into the skin where your neck and shoulder met while you grind your hips down into his lap. A moan slipped past your lips as Aaron nipped at your skin. His gaze lifted to meet your own and if you looked anything like he did…you were both completely wrecked. Hair tousled, lips swollen, pupils dilated and dark with lust, desperate. You knew what he needed and even more so, you knew he was going to give into your desires before anything else. That’s the thing about Aaron…he was a giver.

“I need you.” You gasped as Aarons lips pressed into the top of your barely covered breasts.

“You have me sweetheart. Take whatever you need.” He mumbled, pulling the lace of your bra down to expose your peaked nipple.

You couldn’t help the moan that escaped your lips when his teeth grazed over the sensitive nub. With shaking hands, you moved to pull at his belt, trying to free his achingly hard cock. It had been straining against his slacks, pressing hot against your core for the better half of the last half hour.

Aaron tapped your thigh, signaling you to stand momentarily to allow you both to rid yourself of the remaining clothing you had on. After a moment of tender hands assisting one another to undress, you made your way back to your previous positions.

As you lower yourself back into Aaron’s lap, he guides his cock into your waiting entrance.

“God your cock feels so good.” You groan into Aaron’s ear.

“That’s it baby. Take what you need.” Aaron praises as you find your rhythm.

The room was hot, salacious sounds of skin slapping against skin the only audio in the room. Your hands were white knuckled, holding the back of the couch as you bounced up and down on Aaron’s cock. His hands gripping your hips, supporting your movements. While his face pressed to your skin, moving from your neck to your breasts as you moved against him.

The sounds escaping both you and Aaron were pornographic, loud and uncontrolled as you both neared peak.

“Aaron baby I’m close!” You gasped.

“Cum for me sweet girl, let it go.” He instructed.

After a few more thrusts, you felt the band snap, orgasm washing over you like a tidal wave. All the while Aaron is now guiding your hips, chasing his own release. His hands wrapped around you in a bruising grip while his lips attach to your skin.

Sweat was cast over your skin, your hands were holding onto Aaron’s shoulders, you’re thankful for his grip on you as you are sure you’d have collapsed by now. His continued ministrations have sent another wave of pleasure to wash over you and the convulsions of your pussy finally sending him over the edge.

Aaron painted your walls with a grunt of pleasure, and as his breathing settled, he placed a sweet kiss against your lips.

“I missed you.” You whispered.

“I missed you too sweetheart.”

2K notes · View notes

softtdaisy · 1 month ago

Text

do they know about us / Aaron Hotchner

summary. The five times the team almost learned about Hotch dating the babysitter, the one time they did.

words count. 6 027

what to expect. honestly pure fluff, hotch is a teen in love with his girlfriend, a little angst at the end but nothing too serious

a/n. this is officially the longest fic I have ever written here and I'm really happy about sharing it with you, I couldn't say goodbye to hotch and the babysitter so here it is 🥹 and here is the first one about them in case you want to read it

criminal minds masterlist | F1 masterlist | general masterlist | request

1. The message

After Hotch started dating you, he realized how hard it was to keep something private with the team. Every single thing seemed suspicious to him.

Speaking about the babysitter felt weird now. He had to think about the words he used to talk about you. To not say too much but not speak less either, so the team won’t ask questions. He also realized he used a different tone to speak about you now. So he tried to be more careful when you were in the conversation.

But sometimes, he couldn’t avoid the signs that something different was going on.

Emily was the first one to notice it. They were coming back from a case, still on the jet, when he got a text from you. More exactly, pictures of you and Jack.

You brought him to a Mardi Gras event at the local library. And if Hotch remembered that Jack had to be dressed up, his son never wanted to tell him the costume. He kept saying it would be a surprise. Sadly, Hotch couldn’t be there to see it, but you promised to send pictures through the day. And so he did receive them during the flight. Pictures of Jack and you dressed as FBI agents.

“Jack said we only miss our chief to be the greatest team.”

“You’re the chief, btw.”

“But I told him we did a great job together without you; we don’t need a chief.”

He laughed at your pun, which made Emily look up in confusion. Most of the team was sleeping or doing something else; she was the only one that noticed the change in Hotch's behavior. Emily knew her chief wasn’t the type to watch silly videos on his phone. “So what is making you so happy?” he asked.

And for a second, Hotch considered lying. He loved the idea of keeping this moment for himself. Like a kind of bubble only he could enjoy.

Yet, his phone was already in Emily’s hand to see the picture before he could change his mind and find an excuse.

He wasn’t surprised to see a smile grow on her face; you two looked absolutely adorable. If you tried to keep a straight face, Jack was all smiles, too proud to dress as his dad. Hotch didn’t know how since he couldn’t remember showing you his badge, but you even managed to create one similar for Jack. The time you were taking to make everything for his son was warming his heart.

But then he noticed a sudden change in her expression. And heard her laugh. “Lucky you,” she teased him, handing him back his phone. Right away, he started questioning the meaning of it. He guessed it has something to do with you—but what? Was it because you were taking care of Jack so dearly? Because you were a very great babysitter? Was it about your look, your nice behavior?

There were so many things to be lucky for about you, and he couldn’t put his finger on the specific one Emily saw. So Hotch stayed confused. At least, until he saw the last text you sent him a few seconds ago.

“It’s a joke; please come home to us safely; we miss you xx.”

He could feel the heat in his cheeks, blushing. And nothing could have prevented the smile growing on his lips when he read it. This lasted for a second before he built his stoic figure back.

But it was too late. Emily saw his reaction. Out of respect, she moved and closed her eyes to give him privacy. She still heard the way his fingers were tapping a text quickly, like a teenager trying to hide something from his parents.

“I miss you too.”

2. The blunder

“He looks happier.” Hotch heard JJ say next to him.

Rossi had invited everyone to his mansion after another rough case. They all clearly needed a moment to put work aside and enjoy each other's company. Rossi had insisted on making it a family moment, so they all brought their partners and kids. Well, Hotch brought Jack with him.

He considered inviting you too; he even talked about it with you after he came back from Indiana with the offer.

“It’s not that I don’t want Aaron; let’s agree on that.” you started your argument with. You were still in bed, your hand running through his chest with tenderness. You might have added more to make sure he knew it wasn’t a question of feelings or shame about your relationship. “But it might be confusing for them that you brought the babysitter, but she’s not the babysitter, she’s your girlfriend, see what I mean? They have all seen me taking care of Jack and might expect me to do the same that night. And I would probably feel obligated to do it too, because I’m not part of your team.”

When you looked up, you saw that Hotch was looking at you, concentrating on your words. But the way his hand was still brushing your hair softly, you knew he wasn’t mad about what you were saying.

“And you would probably feel a little lost on how to act with me, with them, and I don’t want that for you.” you added. You moved a little so you could rest against him, your chin on his chest. “You’re not mad?”

“Never,” he replied with the softest smile.

And at the dinner, Hotch was impressed by how you perfectly pointed out the situation. It was obvious now that everything you said would have happened, even if he tried to work against it. There was always someone playing with Jack and Henry—this time being Spencer—and it would have been you most of the time if you were here.

He didn’t realize immediately that JJ had joined him in the contemplation of the two kids playing. Not until now. He turned around, asking for precision by simply frowning. “Jack,” she said. “He looks happier these days.”

Hotch couldn’t deny it. If Jack had always been a happy kid, a pure sunshine in his life, he noticed a change in his behavior these past months. He seemed even more open, his laugh always echoing in the house.

The years following Haley’s disappearance haven’t been easy, neither for Hotch nor for Jack. And with the amount of effort he was putting in to make his son feel better, he knew he didn’t have all the cards to fulfill his mom’s absence.

And not that Hotch ever thought you could replace Haley. It had never been the topic, either before or even now that you started dating. Haley would always be his only mother, and Hotch would make sure to keep her memory alive as long as he was on Earth.

Yet, he wouldn’t be honest if he said you didn’t have a great effect on Jack. You were treating Jack as a friend and taking care of him like he was your own child. He could never be thankful enough for your presence in their life.

Hotch bit his tongue, almost calling you by your name. “His babysitter does a very great job with him.”

“I should consider hiring her too.” JJ said, which made Hotch choke on his drink. Hopefully, the boys running to them made that moment go unnoticed.

“What are you talking about, Mommy?” Henry asked when JJ took him in her arms. Hotch loved the way she said it was about you, like you were some magical creature. He felt that way about you too.

He went straight back to reality when he heard Jack ask, “Is she sleeping at home tonight? I love when she does!” He sounded genuinely happy and excited at the idea of having you around. Which was reassuring, in some way. But Hotch noticed JJ's reaction in the corner of his eyes. How she was pinching her lips to not laugh or make any remark.

He kneeled in front of his son, putting a hand on his shoulder nicely. “I don’t think so, buddy.” When Jack pouted, Hotch looked around even if it was already too late to change what JJ had heard. “But we can call her tomorrow if you want.” More than the idea of asking for the babysitter when he wasn’t working, tomorrow was Sunday. You weren’t supposed to be working. JJ wasn’t an idiot; she knew that too.

The implication being that it was too big to be ignored. Yet, she still decided to act like nothing happened to not embarrass Hotch even more. Soon, the subject changed, and you weren’t part of any conversation.

But when they arrived at Hotch’s place after the dinner, Jack’s wish happened. You were sitting in the corridor, beside the door. Waiting with your phone in hand.

“You realized you could have waited inside?” He asked in a low voice once he moved closer to you.

You looked up to him and melted at the view of him carrying Jack in his arms so easily. The boy was asleep against him, his little face buried in Hotch’s neck. You couldn’t resist taking his little hand and squeezing it softly once you got up. There was something so familiar in being welcomed by this view. By these men. Your men.

“I didn’t want to show up uninvited,” you whispered, still brushing Jack’s hand while looking up at your boyfriend.

Hotch gave you a kiss on the forehead. Something he got used to doing with you, especially when Jack was around. Even if the boy was sleeping, none of you felt comfortable kissing in front of him. “You’re always welcome.”

You followed him inside and were left alone while he went to Jack’s bedroom to put him in bed. You just got the time to get comfortable and sat on the couch when he came back. He put another kiss on your hair before sitting next to you. You didn’t waste another second before cuddling against him. You loved the way his cologne was still captivating after hours. You could stay with your nose buried in his neck all night.

“Jack told JJ that you often sleep here,” he said, running his hand on your lower back. You looked up with confusion and a playful smile. He then told you how much he wanted you to be here and how happy he would be tomorrow morning to see you.

“I’m glad to be there with you too.” your smile never left your lips, not when you moved to kiss Hotch.

A kiss he used to show you how happy he was that you were.

3. The stains

The whole morning has been just a big race against time for Hotch.

You went on a date last night in a very classy restaurant. One of the few real dates you got to do since you started dating. Not that any of you minded; spending time with each other was already a perfect date.

This one was really special. It reminded you that sure, Hotch was older than you, but he had the manners and the ways that no other men ever had with you. Holding every door for you, pulling the chair at the restaurant, showing affection without being too possessive, and always making sure you were the only thing in his mind the whole night.

If he had to bring you home after it, you had classes very early the next morning; things got hot in his car. It had been a long time since Hotch let his desire speak for him outside his very private apartment. But locked in the car with you looking this beautiful, he couldn’t resist it.

When he went to sleep, you were still all he could think about. The way your hand went down his chest to his crotch, making him feel good while your lips couldn’t leave his neck. He couldn’t even remember if he did much for you; all he knew was that you put him first. And he couldn’t thank you enough for that.

But it was only 5 am when his phone rang, a new case for the team.

Hotch had too much to think about. Getting dressed. Taking his travel bag. Calling Jessica to ask her to keep Jack while he was away and preparing stuff she could grab for his son during the day. Making sure everything was safe at his place. Telling you that he was leaving and you didn’t have to take care of Jack. Driving safely, too.

When he arrived in the office, everybody but Derek was there. “So what do we have?” Hotch asked, as he sat in the same chair; he felt like he left only hours ago.

But nobody answered. Actually, they were all looking at him with a mix of surprised and amused expressions. Something he didn’t understand until the missing member entered the room.

“Sorry, I had a hard time leaving my girl behind.” Derek with a flirty tone, which made Emily roll her eyes. But before he sat, he landed his eyes on Hotch and let out a laugh. “Apparently I’m not the only one,” he added, pointing to his chief.

Hotch looked down, trying to understand the private joke he was the center of. And then he saw it.

The red lipstick stains on his very white collar.

In the haste, he grabbed the shirt he had last night with you. And he for sure missed the marks you let on him. Not that he was surprised about them; he could perfectly remember how you couldn’t stop kissing him in the car.

Actually, he even started blushing at the thought of the little biting mark he probably still had on his neck. He had to fight hard against the need to put a hand on his skin to feel it. He couldn’t even remember having a hickey when he was younger, and certainly not that type of mark. But apparently there was no age to have a first time.

He cleared his throat and put both his hands on the table, acting like this was just a normal thing to see. “So what do we have?” he repeated, once again.

He saw the different expressions on each member of the team: the pride on Rossi’s face, Emily and Derek being amused, Spencer trying to follow the whole conversation, and the understanding smile on JJ, who probably understood what happened.

And during the whole brief, all Hotch could think about was changing his shirt before he got on the plane.

And sending you a text to tell you all about it.

4. The phone call

Passing your test successfully was the first sunray of this beautiful day.

Having Hotch come to pick you up at university was the whole sunshine.

You wished there was a way to memorize forever the image of him, standing against his car, in his casual dark blue polo and dark blue jeans, wearing his sunglasses and being on his phone, patiently waiting for you. He looked like some movie star. And proud was a euphemism when you heard some of your classmates wondering who the hot dad was waiting for.

You quickly ran to him, just at the right pace to see the smile growing on his face when he saw you. Once you were close, his hands were soon on your hips to keep you against him. “We did it?” he asked with a proud voice.

“We fucking nailed it,” you replied, crossing your arms around his neck.

The “good girl” he whispered before kissing you with so much tenderness gave you chills that you didn’t even know could be this big. But mostly prepared you for what was coming.

You spend the whole ride telling him about your day and your exam with his hand firmly on your thigh. Sometimes his fingers would brush it softly; per moment, he would squeeze it, already thinking about all the things he wanted to do to you.

So there was no surprise when you arrived at his place that Hotch would take things in hand. And the only thing on his mind is you.

He moved to your side of the car to open the door and offered his hand to help you. But soon, the gentleman was out of view.

“Aaron!” you laughed when he put his hands under your thighs to lift you up and held you against him. He made you feel like you were as light as a feather by carrying you around so easily. You loved the cheeky smile on his face when he put a kiss on your lips before walking to his house.

“What if the neighbors see us?” you said, playing with the short in his neck. If you barely see anyone when you come here, and you spend a lot of time in this building, most people still know that you were the babysitter. And that you were clearly younger than Hotch. Not that you cared about people’s opinions, but the man looking at you like his favorite dessert was more concerned about that from what you knew.

“What would they say?” he asked, calling the elevator. Once inside, he started kissing your skin, his face buried in your neck. You loved the feeling of his soft but a little dry lips against your skin; it was a feeling only he could give you.

“I don’t know that you’re fucking the babysitter?” You replied, but you were containing your moans so hard that you weren’t even sure you spoke clearly.

Not until he stopped kissing you to look up at you. “Would they be wrong?”

“Aaron Hotchner, I didn’t know you were that type of man,” you replied with a fake shocked look on your face. But the laugh you caused him made you break, because at the end that was all you wanted to see. He is happy and carefree.

The whole journey from the elevator to his place was a distant memory. All you knew was that soon you were sitting on his counter, your legs around his waist. His hands were all over you.

It amazed you how composed this man was. Because Hotch was losing his mind kissing you again and again but still managed to take off your shirt without missing a single button. And the moment he took to appreciate the view of you, just in your bra, all ready for him. The aroused look he gave you, like you were the most beautiful gift he had ever seen, was the hottest thing you’ve ever experienced.

Yet, the moment soon came to an end. Because of one thing.

His phone rang.

You noticed the hesitation on his face. You even felt it in his kiss, the way he was still tracing down your chest with his lips but was doing it more slowly. And for a second, with your hand still grabbing his hair, you considered letting him continue. F

But you weren’t like that. And neither was he.

This was why you brought yourself closer against him only to grab his phone in his back pocket. “Answer, Aaron,” you whispered, putting a kiss right on the little piece of skin his polo collar was showing.

He ran his tongue through his lips, thinking about it again. It was supposed to be your moment, just you two together at least for the night. But you didn’t give him the choice, finally answering in the last ring before it was too late.

“Someone’s waiting for you,” you said with a soft laugh, to which he gave you a fake mad look but mostly a smirk.

“Aaron?” You heard Rossi say before Hotch brought his phone to his ear.

His hand was still on your waist, brushing your skin slowly and listening to Rossi’s speech. You maybe had a little too much fun playing with him while he was on the phone. Your foot was brushing along his leg, coming closer and closer to his crotch. He suddenly grabbed your ankle with a warning look. “Stop it,” he whispered. He meant to mouth, but when he heard Rossi asking if he was disturbing something, he realized he hadn’t been so smooth.

You looked at him, fluttering your eyelashes to wait for his answer. You didn’t expect him to say that he was indeed trying to get the babysitter in his bed. But you clearly didn’t expect his answer.

“No, it’s fine, I… I’m home. Alone. Jack isn’t here; I can come.” His tone was harsh, and you had no idea if he was trying to convince his colleague or punishing you for almost letting him know about you.

You looked away so he couldn’t see the little pain in your face hearing him still not acknowledging you. But his hand moved to your cheek so you would look at him again. You still cuddled against him. But he stayed silent while he agreed to be at the bureau in less than thirty minutes.

“I’m sorry,” he simply said, putting a kiss on your forehead. You knew what he was doing. Hotch wasn’t pushing you away. He was simply trying to avoid the truth that he disappointed yet another woman in his life because of his job.

But you grabbed his hand before he went away. “Don’t. I’m not mad you’re leaving.” You said with a little sad smile on your lips. You put his hand back on your thigh so you could button your shirt up again. Hotch tilted his head with a confused look. “It’s just…your neighbors can learn about us, but not your team.”

“That’s not…” he started, having a hard time finding his words. Because he could easily understand why it was upsetting you. He felt a little relieved knowing his job wasn’t the issue, something he couldn’t have changed if it was. But still feel bad that he made you sad for something he was indeed responsible for. He felt like he couldn’t do anything right when it came to relationships.

You were quick at putting a hand on top of his and squeezing his fingers gently. “It’s ok, Aaron, I get it.” You leaned to give him a small kiss. A promise that things were still good between the two of you.

When he arrived at the bureau, Rossi asked him again if he was sure he was alone when he called him. But Hotch denied everything. Just before sending you a text to apologize and promise you he would make it up to you the next time.

5. The ice cream

“Jack-Jack, be careful, please!” you screamed at the boy, who was running after a squirrel in the park. You were soon stopped in your walking by a big hand landing on your stomach. A hand that you knew pretty damn well since it was on your shoulder minutes ago and pretty much everywhere else a few nights ago.

“Wait a minute.” Hotch started, putting himself in front of you. “Are you the reason my son thinks he’s a child with superpowers?”

There was something funny in the view of Hotch being in his inspector mode yet looking so casual.

It was one of the few days off he had, and he proposed to spend it together, the three of you. He was still trying to make things go easy for Jack, so you didn’t meet them until lunch. His son loved you; this was undeniable. But he could easily guess that it wasn’t easy for his little head to understand why the babysitter suddenly spent all her time at his home, even when Hotch was here to take care of him.

Even if Jack was far from an idiot. He noticed the way his dad was looking at you and the little acts of tenderness he had for you. He still hasn't shown his dad the drawing he did of you three, happily standing together. Like a family.

At this point, the two Hotchner boys were pretending the other didn’t know what they knew.

After lunch, you decided to go to the park to enjoy the sunny weather. Hotch clearly stole your heart with his look, with a simple navy blue short that was fitting his biceps so nicely or the sunglasses that were lying on his nose so perfectly. Not to mention the chocolate ice cream you had bought and that looked so tiny in his hands compared to yours.

“Well, for what it takes,” you started replying after taking a lick of your ice cream. “I think your son has superpowers.”

You loved the smile that grew on his lips. An amused one that portrayed how he felt about you. “Imagine if we had two Jacks!” you said, hitting his chest to prove your point.

He grabbed your hand softly, his fingers circling your wrist and his thumb brushing your skin. “Would you want to take care of two Jacks?” he asked with a little laugh. But your answer took him by surprise.

“Well, two Jacks is more of him. More of him means more of you, and that’s an idea I love.”

You stayed like that, looking at each other. This question had more levels than just the idea of Jack being capable of duplicating himself. It was a consideration of what the future might look like for the two of you.

It wasn’t about having another Jack. It was about having another child. Your child.

Even if it was not happening today, nor tomorrow or the following year, it was just a kind of agreement that you both wanted the same thing at some point.

You could tell from the way his smile softened that this went straight to his heart. It meant more than Hotch wanted to tell that you saw your relationship with him being long-lasting.

He leaned closer to you, giving you a very short kiss before you both pulled away at the feeling of the ice cream melting in your hands.

“I’ll go grab some napkins.” You laughed at this disgusted face before walking away. And Hotch couldn’t stop looking at you, thinking how lucky he felt that you chose him, out of anybody. But his thought was soon interrupted when Jack ran straight to his legs. “Daddy, look who’s here!” he almost screamed, too excited for the man walking behind him.

“I didn’t remember Jack could be this persuasive; he refused to let me go.” Spencer said with a sweet laugh, ruffling the boy’s hair. That man was great with children, so it didn’t surprise Hotch that not only did Jack see him in the middle of the big park, but he also managed to convince him to come say hi.

For a moment, Hotch wondered if Spencer saw you before you went away. He knew for a fact that he wouldn’t make any remarks about it if he did; Spencer wasn’t the type to discuss each other’s private lives. But then he said something that proved to Hotch that he had no idea about your presence here.

“It’s great that you’re having a father and son day.” Hotch could tell from his tone that he was indeed very pleased that his boss took the time to have this kind of day after everything they went through.

And so they talked for a minute or two about each other’s day—that was how he learned that Spencer had spent his whole afternoon reading in the park. They didn’t chat for too long. Actually, long enough that you didn’t come back until Spencer had left.

“Can you believe I was stuck behind people just for some napkins?” you sighed, handing him one. But before he grabbed it, he put his arm around your waist to bring you closer and kiss you on the forehead.

For the first time, Hotch realized he wasn’t as relieved that fate postponed the team learning about you. Maybe it was time that you finally found a way to be happy together and not hidden anymore.

In the rankings of the worst day of your life, that day was clearly in the top 3. And it probably wasn’t the third.

Neither was it for Hotch.

You were stressed about him going on a case most of the time. You found out that treating it as any other job was easier for you. Sure, you always invited him to talk about what was on his mind when he came home from a difficult one. And you naturally had treated some wounds he got. But apart from this, you had to put that away when he wasn’t around so you didn’t spend your whole day stressing about it.

When Jessica called you right when you got in your car, you knew that something wasn’t right. Hotch left two days ago, and like he always does when it happens, Jack is staying with his aunt. It’s easier for everyone. Now that Jessica knew that you and Hotch were a real thing, you agreed that you could still spend some time with the boy.

Usually, you would pick him up after school, spend the rest of the afternoon with him, and then bring him to Jessica for dinner at least once while his dad was away.

“Do you…do you think you could bring Jack here when you pick him up?” She asked right when you answered. Your silence spoke for your confusion, so she added. “Something happened; I don’t want to talk about it on the phone. I’m sorry.”

She repeated these three words multiple times. Explaining that it had nothing to do with your skills to take care of Jack or that she didn’t trust you. Far from that. The situation was just bigger than you.

So you agreed. You went to school and took Jack with you. You pretended everything was fine when he told you about his day and asked about yours—when you actually couldn’t remember anything you did before the phone call. And when you arrived at Jessica’s place, you noticed how pale she looked. For a moment, you imagined the worst.

And you weren’t far from it.

“Aaron has been taken hostage,” she finally told you once Jack went to his bedroom, the one she made for him since he spent a lot of time here. “From what I know, it started around noon, but I don't have much news.”

The following hours were the hardest, waiting to have just the slightest news about the man you love. And if it was hard to lie to Jack about his dad, you were still glad he was around to keep you entertained. You tried your hardest not to cry at the idea that the boy could lose his other parent. In your heart, you have all the faith in Hotch to go back home safely. Even if this time, everything wasn’t in his hands.

It was around 8 p.m. when Jessica got another call from the bureau saying that the hostage was over, Hotch was saved, and the team was already on the flight back to Quantico. And you didn’t realize you were hugging her after she told you this until you felt her hands caressing your back softly.

“Thank you,” you whispered. For telling you, for inviting you here, for making you part of this family without a judgment.

You chose not to stay any longer. But if you first thought about going home to your place, you soon were driving to the BAU to see Hotch as soon as he landed. You remember that in your first weeks working here, he put your name on the list in case something happened with Jack and you needed to come.

You always felt guilty about taking that advantage and only used it once. Jack had been crying the whole afternoon about missing his mom and being scared for his dad, and so Hotch allowed you to come.

Yet, in front of the reception desk, you didn’t know how to introduce yourself. The same issue was repeated again and again.

That was until you felt a hand on your shoulder, a movement that could be heard from the numerous bracelets on the woman’s arms.

“She can come with me,” you heard Penelope say to the receptionist. “She’s with me. We’ll just wait on the team.”

You found it funny how the day you finally put a foot in Hotch’s world, you were only met by people willing to help you feel at your place. You had every right to be scared or to feel the need to see him after such a disastrous moment. You had every right to love him the way you did.

And so you waited with Penelope for a good hour, chatting about everything there is to talk about: your classes, your life, the necklace you wore that she absolutely loved. “You know you just fulfilled a lot of people’s fantasies?” she asked you when she came back from grabbing some tea for the both of you.

You frowned, not sure to understand what she meant. “The babysitter dating her boss? That’s probably in the top 5 of people’s dreams!” You choked on your drink, which made her laugh even harder. You felt yourself blushing and a little proud of this being true.

But you didn’t get to think a lot about your feelings. Soon the team was entering the office. And soon, they all stopped at your view.

JJ was the first to notice you with Penelope. “Oh my god, I knew it,” she said to Emily, who looked around before finally landing her eyes on you.

“Isn’t that…” she started but was cut off by Derek’s whistling.

“The babysitter!” he finished with a proud tone.

Spencer was the last one to complete the trio and looked at them with confusion. “She’s the babysitter? I saw her with Hotch at the park the other day; I thought she was just his girlfriend.”

Emily laughed at the idea that this was in front of them the whole time, but none of them thought about sharing.

“And you didn’t think about telling us, kiddo?” Derek asked, putting his arm around Spencer, who just shrugged.

And then came Hotch, talking with Rossi. Right from the first step he made in the office, he felt your presence. So did you, turning around to see your boyfriend standing still. You feared for a second that he might be angry that you came. That you chose for him to make this official in front of his colleagues.

But the smile that grew on him when he realized that he wasn’t dreaming proved you different.

You didn’t hesitate a single second before walking straight to him. The closer you got to him, the more you noticed the wounds from the day. The physical one, like the black eye growing on his left eye or the bruises on his hands. The psychological one too, how tired and empty he looked. Yet, there was still this subtle light on his face: the smile that kept on growing as you reached him.

“You’re here.” Hotch said in a low and tired voice. “I’m so glad you’re here,” he sighed, cupping your face with his hands. He needed that. To look at you after spending the day thinking he wouldn’t ever get the chance too.

He couldn’t care less about everyone looking at you, because he knew his team, and he knew they wouldn’t look away from such a big love demonstration from the man that always kept everything for himself. Hotch realized how much he shouldn’t have kept you a secret for this long.

There was nothing to hide when it came to you.

Especially not the love he had for you.

So when he kissed you in the softest way, he felt a big relief in his heart. Knowing he made the right choice. By loving you and by showing the world you were his.

And deep down, he knew he was ready to hear all the team jokes about him dating the babysitter.

920 notes · View notes

luvvyouforever · 4 months ago

Text

undercover - aaron hotchner x reader

synopsis: in the middle of a case, your worst fear comes true. you have to go on an a date with aaron hotchner, the boss you've been crushing on for months. content: canon-typical violence, tropey, kissing, flirtatious aaron, mentions of alcohol, afab reader who wears a dress. word count: 4k+ a lil bit oops author's note: ahhh my favorite trope in crime shows. enjoy!

"so based on this geographical profile y/n and i worked on, there's only two bars our unsub could frequent with his victims. the first one is more of a nightclub and we don't think it's likely that he'll be bringing them to such a rowdy environment," reid spoke to the crowd of officers and agents awaiting instruction. "the other bar also has a restaurant attached so we'll be keeping our investigation here."

jj grabbed a handful of papers with the bar's information and passed them out to the officers. once reid had stepped to the side, aaron came forward to wrap up their profile.

"he's cunning, yet incredibly violent. do not ambush him. he will escape your grasp and hurt you in the process. be on the lookout officers," he said with a tap to the desk that sent everyone back to work. with a subtle turn, aaron gazed at you and reid. "good work on the mapping. meet back up in the conference room in 5."

"thank you, sir," you and reid echoed before beginning to organize your files back into a folder.

all the while you tried to remain professional, your heart throbbed in your chest at the smallest ounce of praise from your boss. the way he held the room in his hand and demanded respect without ever having to actually ask for it was a part of the reason why you've had a crush on them for the better part of a year.

crush, now, felt too small. it was an infatuation at this point.

it didn't matter much, however, because would you ever confess your feelings for your boss? the boss who has been nothing but stoic your entire time of knowing him? absolutely not.

shrugging the butterflies in your body away, you head over to the impromptu coffee station created for the large number of people inside the police station and pour a cup of stale yet hot and much needed energy. this case was a doozy, one that had every agent just wishing for its end. and it felt like it was soon to come to a close. they had been coming up with some kind of plan. what that plan was, you weren't entirely sure.

when you managed to snap a lid on the coffee cup, you headed into the conference room where the rest of the bau were seated haphazardly around the room. you took a spot between emily and reid, eyes focused on aaron and rossi standing in front of a whiteboard.

"that coffee's not any good, is it?" rossi asked, noting the cup in your hand.

"every sip is somehow worse than the last, but i think we all need it," you said, following your statement up with another pained drink. rossi laughed and out of the corner of your eye, you could've swore that the corner of aaron's lips titled into a smirk. you ignored it, though, and began reading the words on the board.

"so, we're hoping to catch the unsub tonight," aaron started suddenly, turning with his ever-present air of professionalism. "if he's still following his schedule, he'll find his next victim tonight, most likely at the bar reid and y/n found. we've thought about how we're going catch him and i think we'll have to go undercover. two of us."

"under what pretenses, exactly?" derek asked on the other side of the table.

"on a date," rossi answered. just faintly, a red tint appeared on aaron's cheeks. you wondered what could possibly have made him- "we've picked our two already. y/n and aaron."

"oh!" you said surprisedly. "what led to this decision, pray tell?"

aaron looked down at his folders as if they were the most important thing in the world in that very moment. rossi glanced over, shook his head, then looked at you again.

"you two just seem the most likely out of any of us to go on a date. we don't want to look suspicious, no?" rossi answered.

"i-uh-i suppose not," you said. "my go bag isn't really packed with date wear clothes. mostly just pantsuits and academy t-shirts."

aaron finally cleared his throat and met your eyes for the first time since it was announced that you two would technically be going on a date. even if you would be wearing bulletproof vests under your clothes.

"that's okay. we won't be going out till 7pm. it's only three now. you're free to find something. as long as it's easy to move in," he said in a voice that felt an octave deeper than usual. and then he did something that almost made you faint on the spot. aaron dug into his pocket, fished out his wallet, and pulled out a credit card. his credit card. "use this."

sheepishly, you took the card from his hands and placed it into your own bag. "thanks," you muttered. an elbow jabbed its way into your side from beside you and emily was smirking at you. you dismissed her with your hand and stood to exit the room.

"hotel lobby at 7, yeah?" aaron said.

you forced a nervous smile to your face and nodded, then left the room. with aaron's credit card in your bag. about to buy an outfit. for a date with him. you weren't entirely positive you could safely drive.

౨ৎ

with the information you had about the bar, you picked a semi-formal, simple dress that paired well with heels you already packed. aaron was already paying for the dress. you couldn't ask him to also pay for the accessories.

after some test laps up and down your hotel room, you declared the outfit was "easy to move in" and grabbed your bag, ensuring that his credit card was still inside. the time was only 6:45, but you knew aaron would already be there, waiting.

with a check that your holster was properly attached to your thigh, you left the room and took the elevator down to the first floor. your heart was beating irregularly in your chest and your hands were clammy, but the reflective surface of the elevator's walls let you know that you looked good. for a fake date with aaron hotchner.

the elevator dinged when the doors opened and immediately, you saw aaron sitting in a lobby chair. he looked up at the sound and stood. he was dressed impeccably well in a suit with his hair done in its usual middle part. handsome was the only word on the tip of your tongue.

"you look beautiful," he said upon reaching your figure. it seemed like he didn't mean for the words to slip out, but instead of retracting them, he simply held out his arm for yours to wrap around.

your mouth went dry, but you knew you had to say something back. "thank you, hotch. you look handsome yourself."

"i think for the purposes of tonight," he said, "you can just call me aaron."

you nodded, finding words hard to muster up. instead, you allowed him to lead out of the hotel to one of the least suspicious looking SUVs parked outside. when he reached the door, he opened it for you.

you couldn't hold back a little laugh at the gesture. "you know...we're not on the date yet," you said. regardless of the light humor of the situation, you allowed him to help you into the passenger seat. he smirked, shut the door, then walked around to his door.

when he got in, his usual stone expression found its way to his face again. "forgive me for wanting to make this feel as natural as possible. i'm sure it's awkward going on a date with your boss. even if it is undercover."

"oh, no!" you blurted out. his eyebrows raised as he backed out of the parking spot. his arm wound its way around your seat, neglecting the back-up camera for the traditional method. "sorry. it's not awkward. you don't have to worry. promise."

"yeah?" he asked, putting the car back into drive and heading to the downtown area of the small town you were in. at a stop sign, he turned to look at you. if you weren't such a highly trained profiler, you would've certainly missed the way his eyes raked up and down your body, taking in your dress of choice. "you made a good pick."

your cheeks warmed with his flattery. to avoid meeting his gaze, you fished the credit card out of your purse to offer back to him. "thanks," you muttered. "you didn't have to pay for it, you know?"

he took the credit card from your grasp and shoved it into his pants pocket. "don't worry about it," he said with a wave of his hand. "figured if you're forced into going on a date, you should have something nice to wear at least."

you looked over to his body in the driver's seat, his face focused on the road ahead of him. "why do you keep assuming that i'm hating every second of this? i mean...how rare is it that we get to eat somewhere nice while on a case? and i'm getting paid for it while in the presence of a handsome man. could be worse things." you didn't know what compelled you to add on the last bit, but when you saw his cheeks flare up, you didn't regret it.

instead of responding, aaron's body relaxed in the driver's seat.

after several minutes of driving, the bar came into view and you bit your lip in nervousness. this unsub was pretty intense and you were heading directly into the lion's den. you tried to cram the nervousness deep down in the pit of your stomach as aaron pulled into the small parking lot next door.

before turning the car completely off, aaron turned his body towards yours. "now we really need to look as inconspicuous as possible. it might feel weird, but we need to look like a real couple on a date, okay?"

"yes, sir," you responded on impulse. "i mean...yes, aaron."

despite his attempts not to, he breathily chuckled. "already off to a great start," he joked. you chuckled with him and unbuckled your seat. "i'm gonna text the team that we're heading in. don't open your door. let me do it."

a minute of quick texting passed by and aaron shut off the car, then stepped out. a few seconds passed before your door opened and aaron was extending his hand to yours. you took it with a sweet smile and let him lead you out of the car. he shut the door behind you and your arm found his own again.

regardless of the reason being for the case or for just the pure want to be closer to him, you leaned into aaron's strong body. he took to the gesture immediately and held you even closer. it was intoxicating, but you kept your gaze focused on the bar ahead.

after what felt like agonizing hours of walking side by side, you came onto the host stand at the front of the restaurant.

"how many?" the host asked.

"two," aaron responded. the hand that was holding on to your arm began rubbing the skin there up and down. every touch of his fingers left goosebumps.

the host gestured for the two of you to follow her. quicker than you'd like, she led you towards a table in the middle of the restaurant. your eyes surveyed the restaurant and bar around you, scanning for someone that resembled the unsub's profile. once the host walked away, you and aaron looked at each other and shook your heads, signaling that nothing felt out of the ordinary so far.

"order whatever you'd like," aaron said, his head pointing towards the menu in your hand. "hon," he added.

the petname rolled from his tongue naturally, as if it was a name he had been calling you for years. you tried to not show that it affected you much, but aaron noticed the way your breath caught in your throat. despite the nervousness that settled over your body, you decided to take another leap and with a shift in your seat, your heeled foot grazed over his leg. he was shocked at the sudden touch, but spread his legs further nonetheless.

you didn't pull away either when the server came forward.

"welcome, guys. date night tonight, i'm guessing?" she asked with a smile.

"mhm!" you answered first. "decided to get out and dress up for once in a while."

aaron looked at you with an almost impressed look. maybe rossi was right. you did look like a couple.

"isn't that nice? well, what would you two like to drink tonight?"

"an old-fashioned, please," aaron responded. "and a water."

"i'll take a cosmopolitan and a water," you added.

the server noted down the drinks and walked away. your foot continued sliding up and down aaron's legs, becoming a subconscious act at that point. he flipped through the menu once, then glanced around the room again. still nothing.

"an old-fashioned, hmm?" you asked, eyeing one of the meals on the menu that sounded particularly tasty.

"is that shocking?" he asked.

"no," you answered honestly. "just learning more about you, aaron."

aaron hummed, as if he were about to say something, but instead focused on his menu again. a few minutes of comfortable silence passed before the server came over with a tray of your drinks. she sat them down on the table, along with the waters, then pulled out a notepad again.

"had enough time to pick what you'd like?" she asked.

"know what you want, dear?" you asked, looking up at aaron.

"i'll take the steak frites," he said to the server.

both he and the server looked at you. you told her what you'd like from the menu, hoping it wasn't expensive enough for aaron. he barely registered the price, though, and instead collected your menus to hand to the server. if this was what dates were usually like with him, you could definitely tolerate them.

"you look like you're thinking about something," aaron said from the other side of the table where he had been watching both you and the door intently.

you took a sip of your drink and sat it back down. "i thought we said no profiling your coworkers, dear," you teased. "i feel like that applies tenfold when you're on a date."

he chuckled and took a sip of his own drink. you noted just how attractive he was with a glass of whiskey in his hand, laughing.

"pardon me for wanting to know what my beautiful date has in her head," aaron said. his words made you bite your lip and look down at the table. suddenly, though, his demeanor shifted as his eyes connected with someone coming in at the door. "don't turn around."

"is he here?" you whispered.

he nodded and picked up his drink, eyes following him to the bar. almost imperceptibly, he tilted his head towards the bar. "fifth seat," he whispered back.

sure enough, an unsub matching the physical profile had seated himself next to an alone woman at the bar. almost immediately upon sitting down, he began talking to her. the fact that the man you had been trying to catch for a long time, the man who committed some really gruesome murders was that close to you made you almost ill. you passed your emotions off by taking a drink.

"i'm gonna grab another drink, baby. i haven't seen the server around," aaron suddenly said. he nodded to you, perhaps for reassurance, before standing and adjusting his blazer to ensure the holster on his side was covered. luckily, the seat directly next to the woman was empty and he positioned himself on the other side of it. the unsub barely registered his presence, which was good. you took note of his clothes, his hair, everything, just in case she slipped through your grasp again.

eventually, aaron had flagged down the bartender, ordered his second drink, and came back with it in his hand.

"he's just flirting with her," aaron whispered once he was out of earshot. "but she's falling for it. probably not long till he tries to leave with her."

"i won't get to finish my food," you said half-seriously.

"i'll get it boxed up for you, hon," he said. though that time, aaron's voice was a whisper. the petname was for you alone.

just as aaron had expected, the unsub stood from his seat at the bar, the woman next to him following suit. together, they headed towards the back where the bathroom was, along with an exit inside the kitchen which he was likely going to use. both yours and aarons followed them and with a curt nod, you both stood to head towards the back, several paces behind them.

suddenly, they went through a door, to what seemed like a closet first before going into the kitchen. you and aaron paused at the beginning of the hallway. then some noises erupted from the closet, ones that would make an older woman blush and hold her hand to her mouth.

aaron looked back at you with a confused look on his face. at that very moment, the closet door opened. you and aaron looked at each other in panic, but just before they stepped out of the closet, you grabbed aaron by his tie and pulled him closer to you.

within seconds, you had hiked your leg up his own, revealing your thigh in the dress. his hand quickly came to the skin and he squeezed tightly. to add to the scene, you wrapped a hand around the base of aaron's neck and pulled him down. his lips met your own with a rough clash, but then the kiss smoothed out.

at first, he was still, lips unmoving against yours. when your fingers tangled themselves into the short hairs at his neck, he finally kissed you back. acting, he thought to himself as he deepened the kiss and pulled your leg higher up his. undercover, he tried to remind himself when your lips let forth a whimper into his mouth.

neither of you wanted to pull away. you only pulled your head back when you heard the kitchen door swing open and closed. you inhaled a deep breath and met aaron's dark brown eyes. they were wide and his cheeks were flushed.

"sorry. i-it was all i could think to do," you stuttered out.

aaron shook his head. "don't be," he said quickly. "come on, he's about to leave. we'll talk after."

you felt the warmth of aaron's body leave yours as he pulled the gun from his holster. you retrieved your own from your thigh and followed him through the kitchen. he flashed his badge towards the chefs to get them to stop yelling and they pointed towards the exit where the unsub had just left.

both of you picked up your pace. had the kiss deepened for a few more seconds, you would have certainly missed him. however, as soon as you threw open the exit door, the unsub was forcefully shoving the young woman into his car.

"fbi! put your hands up and back away from the car!" aaron yelled. the unsub didn't do immediately as asked, despite two guns pointing in his direction. "i won't ask again! put your hands up and back away from the car!"

in a quick flash, the unsub reached inside his jacket. in the streetlight, you saw the glint of a gun. hardly a second passed before he pulled it out, aimed, but then fell to the asphalt.

your finger came off the trigger and before lodging it back into the holster, you turned the safety back on. you hadn't killed him, only immobilized him in his right leg. it was enough for aaron to run forwards, take the gun and throw it to the side. while he placed handcuffs on the unsub, you ran to the other side of the car and rescued the woman from the passenger seat. crying, she fell into your arms. suddenly, you were surrounded by the town's police department, along with the rest of your team who had been waiting just down the street.

before everything got too hectic to seek each other out, you and aaron took a long look at each other. he nodded with a smile, his form of praise, before hauling the unsub into a police car.

౨ৎ

a few hours had passed before everyone was released from the scene. the bau loaded up into their SUVs, aaron taking the one you had rode together in. much to your chagrin, his car filled up before you could get in with him. instead, you rode with emily and reid on the way back to the hotel to gather your belongings.

when you arrived to the hotel, everyone split off into their rooms. aaron seemed to be speaking privately with rossi so you opted to go upstairs and change out of the outfit you had been wearing for the better half of the night.

as you were unbuckling your heels and placing them back into your go-bag, you heard a faint knock on the door. you rose from the bed, feet aching, and answered it.

there, aaron stood with a white t-shirt on, having had to change out of his clothes from the scene.

"hey," you said.

"can i come in?" he asked.

only then did you notice that he was holding something behind his back. you stepped to the side to allow him to enter and he scooted the item in front of him to prevent you from seeing.

"what do you have there?" you asked. slowly, he brought forth two boxes of food, having kept his promise from earlier.

"it's probably not the freshest anymore, but nothing that a microwave can't fix," he said sheepishly.

you could've cried on the spot. smiling brightly, you took the food from his hands and sat it on the hotel desk. a grunt escaped his lips as your arms engulfed him in a hug. his arms wrapped around your body and your feet lifted from the ground a little.

"thank you," you said genuinely.

aaron watched as you took the food and warmed them up, going for yours first so that he could have the slightly warmer meal. once they were both ready to be ate, you found some plastic silverware in the little coffee tray and handed one set to him.

"round two?" you said with a shrug.

"round two," he agreed. "but...i wouldn't mind a round three, or four, or five, when we get back home." he picked up a fry from his plate and popped it in his mouth.

"glad to know my impulsive gift didn't scare you off," you joked. you paused for a second and set the food down. "which, i mean, i wouldn't mind a round two on that either."

aaron paused too, setting his own box back down on the desk. he stood and offered his hand to help you up from the bed. you took it and rose. then, his hand wrapped around your back where his palm was splayed across the skin there.

"i wouldn't mind a round two either," he said quietly. "but i call the shots this time."

your knees felt weak being so close to aaron. you didn't miss the way his cheeks flared and one of his hands shook nervously. had he been feeling the same way for you for this long too?

"you can call the shots anytime, hon," you teased, echoing the petnames for earlier.

smirking, his free hand ghosted up your side till it met your chin. his fingers titled your head upwards and ever so softly, he leaned in. this kiss was much more romantic, more loving, less rushed. he had time, now. he wasn't kissing you to hide from someone else. he was kissing you because he has been wanting to for oh so long.

minutes must've passed before the two of you pulled away to a pure need to breathe. he smiled. "good round two?"

"i think i'm gonna need a few more just to double check."

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner criminal minds #thomas gibson #aaron #hotchner #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #aaron hotchner fluff #ssa aaron hotchner #bau

1K notes · View notes

reidsworld · 8 months ago

Text

Unveiled Secrets

Summary: The BAU team has a sneaking suspicion that their stoic leader, Aaron Hotchner, is in a relationship, but they don't know the extent of it.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x fem!Reader

Category: Fluff

Content Warnings: Jack and Haley do not exist in this, kissing, cuddling, allusions to sex, light teasing, use of Y/N, pet names (my love, baby), that’s it I think, lmk if I missed any! Oh and pure fluff!

Word Count: 1.8k

Mars speaks… hi my loves, I was motivated to write so I am using this to figure out my writing style a bit and how I want to format my works! I’ve been going through a bit of a Hotch phase lately so I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Masterlist

The BAU office was slowly quieting down as the day turned to dusk, the last rays of sunlight casting long shadows across the desks. Aaron Hotchner, head of the Behavioral Analysis Unit, stood in his office, the soft light of his desk lamp highlighting the stress lines that had deepened over the years. He checked his watch—almost time to go home. A rare, soft smile touched his lips, a sight reserved for only one person.

He closed the case file on his desk, slipping it neatly into his briefcase before reaching for his jacket. His phone buzzed just as he picked it up, and he glanced at the screen to see a text from you, Can’t wait to see you. Should I pick up dinner?

That smile of his deepened as he quickly typed a reply, I’ll pick it up on my way home. See you soon, my love.

He hadn’t planned on keeping his relationship with you a secret, nor did he have any grand strategy for revealing it. He assumed that given time, his team would figure it out on their own. After all, they were profilers—eventually, they would notice the subtle shifts in his behaviour, the unexplained absences, the slightly more relaxed demeanour after particularly stressful cases. He hadn’t intended to hide it forever, just until they pieced it together.

As he opened the door to his office, however, he nearly collided with Spencer Reid, who was walking by, engrossed in a file. Reid looked up, startled, his eyes wide with surprise.

"Sorry, Hotch! I didn’t see you there."

"It’s alright, Reid," Hotch replied, a calmness in his voice that belied the momentary flicker of surprise in his eyes. He wasn’t often caught off-guard, especially not in the safety of his own office.

Reid, however, had a habit of noticing things others missed. His eyes flickered to the phone still in Hotch’s hand, the screen just dimming from inactivity. Before Hotch could slip it into his pocket, Reid’s sharp eyes caught your name on the screen. His brow furrowed in confusion as he processed the information.

“Y/N, as in the academy’s Y/N?” Reid asked, the question out of his mouth before he could stop himself.

Hotch froze for a fraction of a second, but it was enough for Reid’s sharp mind to pick up on the anomaly. Reid’s brain worked at lightning speed, connecting dots that others might have missed. He knew Hotch was fiercely private, but this reaction was new.

“Goodnight Reid” Aaron replied, quickly, shutting down any further questioning that may have come from the young genius.

Reid blinked, taken aback, but his curiosity was now piqued. However, years of working with Hotch had taught him when to push and when to back off. “Have a good evening, Hotch.”

As Reid walked away, Hotch let out a slow breath. This wasn’t how he wanted the team to find out, though he couldn’t say he was surprised. He had always assumed it would be Reid who would notice first; the young profiler missed nothing. Still, he had hoped for a bit more time. But the cat was out of the bag now, and he knew it wouldn’t be long before the rest of the team found out.

The next morning, the BAU office was abuzz with more than the usual activity. Reid’s brief encounter with Hotch had set off a flurry of curiosity and speculation among the team. They were profilers, after all, and even the smallest clues could ignite their imaginations.

“I’m telling you, something’s definitely going on with Hotch,” Reid said as the team gathered in the bullpen before their morning briefing. He couldn't shake the image of your name on Hotch's phone from his mind.

JJ, trying to keep things under control, said, “Come on, guys, it could just be a friend. It doesn’t have to mean anything.”

Morgan leaned back in his chair, a knowing grin on his face. “Reid’s onto something. Hotch has been acting a bit differently lately. He’s not staying late like he used to.”

“And he’s been smiling more often,” Garcia added, her excitement barely contained. “The man’s practically glowing sometimes.”

Rossi, with a teasing tone, suggested, “Maybe he’s just getting better sleep. But I have to admit, there’s definitely something different.”

Garcia’s eyes sparkled with excitement. “Don’t you want to know? If Hotch is seeing someone, that’s huge!”

Rossi shrugged, still smirking. “Of course, I’m curious. But let’s give him some space. If he wants us to know, he’ll tell us. And if we’re lucky, we might even get to meet her.”

Prentiss grinned, "Do you think it’s serious? Like, she’s ‘the one’?”

“I think,” Rossi said thoughtfully, “if Aaron is keeping this under wraps, it’s because it’s important to him. He wouldn’t be so secretive if it wasn’t serious.”

Just then, Hotch entered the bullpen, and the conversation quickly shifted to a quieter, more focused buzz. The team members turned to their desks, but the air was charged with unspoken questions and speculative glances. Hotch, sensing the change in atmosphere, gave a brief nod before heading to his office.

As the day dragged on with paperwork and case briefings, the undercurrent of curiosity remained. The team exchanged looks, clearly eager to discuss Hotch’s secret, but they were careful to avoid bringing it up directly. The excitement about Hotch’s personal life was palpable, and everyone was waiting for the right moment to address the topic.

Later that evening, Aaron finally headed home after a long day. As he walked through the front door, he found you curled up on the couch, a blanket draped over your legs, and a glass of wine in your hand. You looked up from the book you were reading, a smile spreading across your face when you saw him.

“Hi, baby, how was your day?” you asked, setting the book aside as he walked over to you.

“Tiring,” he admitted, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. “And eventful. Reid saw a text from you last night.”

Your eyes widened in surprise. “Oh no. What did he say?”

“He asked if it was from you,” Aaron said, sitting down beside you. “I shut him down, but I think I gave myself away. The team’s been acting strange all day.”

You chuckled, leaning your head on his shoulder. “So, they’re onto us?”

He nodded, slipping an arm around you and pulling you closer. “It was bound to happen eventually. I just didn’t expect it to be now.”

“I’m surprised they didn’t figure it out sooner,” you said, your fingers tracing patterns on his chest. “They are profilers, after all.”

He smiled down at you, his expression softening. “I never planned on keeping it a secret forever. I just figured they’d figure it out on their own time.”

“So, what’s the plan?” you asked with a playful grin.

He sighed, his thumb rubbing gentle circles on your shoulder. “I suppose it’s time to tell them. They’re already curious, and I’d rather they hear it from me than through rumours.”

“You know they’ll be happy for you,” you said, squeezing his hand. “For us.”

“I know,” he agreed. “But there’s a part of me that’s nervous. I’ve always kept my personal life separate from work, but with you… it’s different.”

You leaned up and kissed him softly, the warmth of the moment lingering between you. “We’ll do it together, then. When you’re ready.”

Aaron’s gaze softened, but a playful glint sparkled in his eyes as he pulled you closer. “Right now, I want to do anything but think about the team,” his voice dropped to a low murmur.

You felt the heat of his words and smiled, leaning in closer. “Sounds perfect,” you whispered, as he nuzzled against you, his lips brushing yours with a grin.

A few days later, Rossi had decided to host a dinner party for the team. The team was eager to catch up and enjoy the evening. Aaron knew it was the perfect opportunity to introduce you to the team as his girlfriend.

As the doorbell rang, Rossi answered the door to find Hotch standing beside you. As you both entered the living room, the atmosphere in the room shifted instantly as Hotch introduced you with a genuine smile.

“I’d like you to meet Y/N, my girlfriend,” Hotch said, his voice steady but warm.

The room fell into a stunned silence before erupting into excitement. Garcia’s face lit up with recognition and delight. “Oh my God! It’s Y/N! I knew it was someone! This is incredible!”

Morgan’s grin widened as he approached. “So, this is the elusive woman behind Hotch’s new smile! You’ve been keeping us in the dark for too long, Hotch.”

JJ smiled warmly as she extended her hand. “It’s wonderful to finally meet you, Y/N, we’re really happy for both of you.”

Reid, ever the profiler, couldn’t resist asking, “How long have you two been together?”

Hotch laughed softly, putting an arm around you and smiling fondly. “Almost five months now. Y/N works as the unit chief for the BSU in the academy. I met her when she invited me to guest lecture.”

Garcia’s eyes sparkled with excitement. “I knew it! You two have that perfect power couple vibe. We have to plan another get-together so we can hang out more!”

Rossi, enjoying the moment, gave Hotch a friendly pat on the back. “Well, I guess this means you won’t be around for poker nights as often.”

Hotch chuckled. “I’ll still make time for poker nights, don’t worry.”

As the evening continued, the team enjoyed getting to know you better. The atmosphere was filled with laughter, light-hearted teasing, and genuine happiness for Hotch and you.

“So, when do we get to do this again?” Garcia asked eagerly.

Hotch smiled, feeling content. “Soon. We’ve been talking about having you all over for dinner. Now seems like the perfect time.”

As the team chatted and enjoyed the evening, Aaron felt a weight lift off his shoulders. Introducing you to his team had been a significant step, but their warmth and support made it all worthwhile. The thought of merging his work family with his personal life filled him with quiet joy.

As the party wound down and the team began to leave, Morgan gave Hotch a sly grin. “You know, Hotch, we’re happy for you, but don’t think we won’t give you a hard time about keeping this a secret for so long.”

Hotch chuckled, appreciating the camaraderie. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

With that, the team said their goodbyes and headed home, their spirits high. Hotch followed them, feeling grateful for the support of his team and looking forward to the future with you.

Mars speaks... (again) Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed it! Also, would anyone be interested if I wrote for other fandoms such as F1 and Marvel? Any feedback is greatly appreciated🫶

1K notes · View notes

spencer-reids-fbivest · 10 months ago

Text

He’s so baby 🥹 ( Also Matthew and Thomas are so dad and son in those two pics)

#criminal minds #spencer reid #mgg #mgg edit #mgg pics #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid x reader #mgg imagine #mgg fanfiction #mgg fluff #thomas gibson #aaron hotch hotchner #aaron hotchner

2K notes · View notes

sexy-monster-fucker · 1 month ago

Text

In a World of Boys, He's a Gentleman

SSA Aaron Hotchner x BAU!Reader

Summary: Reader finally gives in after her coworkers begged her for months to let them set her up on a blind date.

CW: first dates, fluff, first kiss, not really any warnings

a/n: I love writing bau!reader bc then I get to write the team like a big ole family

title track 🎶🤍

~~~

“I cannot believe I let you talk me into this,” you sighed as J.J. touched up your makeup. Staring yourself down in the vanity at her home. Eyeshadow perfectly accenting your eyes and a beautiful neutral lip stain. Never being one to take the time to do a full face of makeup. You worked out in the field and you sweated… a lot. So what was the point?

“You look beautiful,” Emily complimented resting her hands on your shoulders.

“He’s a lucky guy,” Penelope added with a bright smile.

And that was the thing: you had no clue who the guy was. No clue what his occupation was. No idea what he looked like. No idea if you could even like him.

You had always been the type to prioritize your profession. Dating took time and work. Energy you did not have to spare. And your Team knew that. Pestering you constantly about ‘hopping on the saddle’ or ‘just going for it.’ Ended up with your cheeks flushed and an awkward smile on your face.

You just did not care for dating.

But finally, after years of them begging and pleading with you, you caved. Pulling an excited squeal from all your girlfriends. They told you they would handle everything. All you had to do was show up. Even inviting you over to let them get you ready for the evening.

“Voila!” J.J. proclaimed as she put the final touch of highlight on your cheeks. All the girls gawked and cooed as they looked at you. Clapping and boosting your confidence. Causing you to smile widely.

“How do you feel?” Penelope asked wide eyed.

You thought for a moment. Really taking in your look. Stunning dress that hugged your figure perfectly. Eyes sparkling. Not having cared about how you looked since you were young. Especially not when it came to what a boy would think of you.

Well.

That was not entirely true. In passing years, you had developed a sort of fondness for one of your superiors. Older than you. Stoic and handsome. Somehow, more dedicated to the BAU than you could ever hope to be. Your Team Leader, and boss, Aaron Hotchner. Divorced, emotionally unavailable, and entirely your type. It almost embarrassed you that you swooned like a high schooler over him. Receiving giggles from the other Girls of the BAU. Embarrassingly explaining yourself. And of course, they understood. But they would never let you forget it.

“Nervous,” you exhaled.

J.J. patted your arm, “Don’t be! You look hot! He won’t be able to take his eyes off you the whooooole night.”

The girls all laughed. But the pit in your stomach hardened. Anxieties of the night ahead playing through your mind. Fear creeping through your veins the more you thought.

“Can’t you just tell me his name? What if I know him and can’t hide how embarrassed I am?”

“No!” J.J. over pronounced the word.

“He’s single. You’re single. What else is there to know?” Emily folded her arms.

“What if I think he’s ugly?”

They laughed again.

“Trust us, you won’t think that,” Penelope chuckled.

You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest. Finally breaking your facade of anger and smiling with them.

“Okay, one last thing—“ Emily dug through her pocket, pulling out a small, blue piece of fabric. Holding it out to you, “Take this.”

“What… is it?”

“This will make sure you and your date recognize each other. He will be wearing a pocket square that’s the exact same as this,” Emily smiled, wagging it in your face. Taking the soft silk in your hand. Putting it away in your purse to insure you would not lose it.

“Oh! You’ve gotta get going— your date’s in thirty minutes,” Penelope jumped up and down.

All the girls reassured you as you took one final deep breath. Unprepared for the night ahead of you.

…

You took your seat at the small round table. Flowers in a fancy looking vase in the center. Table cloth cascading down the sides perfectly. You clutched your purse tightly in your lap. Staring down at the blue square at the top. Your leg bounced with anxiety, trying to steady your breathing.

“Y/N?”

That familiar, monotonous tone sent a shiver down your spine. Shoulder tensing up as you hesitated to look behind yourself. Meeting his glowing brown eyes.

“Hotch—“ you stood up to greet him. Extending your hand as to not break formality. Hotch smiled at you. Eyes glazing down your body, never seeing you outside of work clothing. “You look beautiful,” he complimented you.

Your face flushed, “Th-Thank you. You look handsome in your suit.” Hotch smiled with your words. Cheeks growing pink as he looked into your eyes.

“What are you doing here?”

Hotch chuckled, half defeated. Looking away from you, allowing his head to drop as he admitted, “I… let Morgan set me up for a blind date.”

And your stomach flipped. Almost making all the delectable smelling food seem grotesque. Realizing one of two things was true: either Hotch had been set up with another woman, or he was your date.

You laughed awkwardly, “Oh! Wow— that’s uh—“. Hand coming up to cup the back of your neck, feeling suddenly hot. Not prepared to confess to him that you were here for the same reason.

“He even told me to wear this blue pocket square so she knew it was me,” he pointed to the silky fabric peaking from his breast pocket.

Blue. Pocket square.

Just like what Emily told you your date would be wearing. Matching the square of fabric they had given you to make sure it was the right guy. Hidden away in your purse.

Deciding factor of how the rest of your evening would go. Would you blur the lines of what was appropriate? Crossing a bridge that was sure to crumble behind you. Could you really do this with him? A remnant of frustration bounced around your mind. Angry that they had set you up with him without telling you. Already formulating the text you would be sending in the group text after this night ended.

There was no way you could follow through with this.

“Lucky lady,” you sighed, fists clinching around the strap of your purse. Shaking softly as to not give into your desire. Because you did like him after all.

Maybe the risk of embarrassment was worth it all?

Hotch chuckled, cheeks glowing. Flashing his beautiful smile as he looked around the restaurant. Silence washing over the otherwise chipper conversation between you. “Well,” Hotch patted down his suit jacket, “I’m going to try and find her. I hope you have a good night, Y/N.” Turning to walk away from you. Watching the glimmer of hope you had fading away with each step.

It was your last chance.

“Hotch—“ you called out. He spun around to face you once more, eyebrows heavy with concern. You dug through your purse, pinching the soft silk. Taking a deep breath before revealing it to him.

Hotch’s eyes widened. Realizing what you were showing him. His face flooded as he exhaled. Smiling awkwardly at you, starting to speak when you cut him off.

“I let the girls set me up on a blind date… too,” your face was hot to the touch. You felt defeated. Like you had just completely ruined any form of professionalism between you. Your eyes fixated on the small fabric square in your hand, unable to look Hotch in the eyes.

Looking up when his footsteps directed past you. Walking behind you, assuming he was leaving. It was completely inappropriate to go on a date with your boss of all people. You knew that. But it still hurt.

The sound of your chair moving brought your attention behind you. Hotch was pulling your chair out for you, standing with his hands on the back of it. Waiting for you to take your seat.

Your heart pounded in your chest. Such a simple act of chivalry causing your skin to tingle and throat tighten. You mouthed sounds that refused to escape, taking your seat and allowing him to push you in. Cheeks burning with your mixed feelings for him.

“Hotch—“

“It’s Aaron tonight,” he smiled taking his seat directly across from you. You returned his beam. Fighting off the sweat that dared develop along your forehead. Taking the opportunity to really look at Aaron Hotchner. Brow heavy with thought, lines decorating his face from years of work, a small beauty mark on his cheek, brown eyes that you could see yourself getting lost in more often than not.

Being pulled away when the waiter approached your table. Greeting you both politely, asking what he could start you both off with to drink. "Bring us a bottle of your house wine," Aaron spoke. Giving you a knowing look with a raise of his eyebrows. Server complimenting his choice before hurrying off to the back. Leaving you and Aaron alone to finally talk. Neither of you sure how to start the conversation. Fidgeting with your fingernails as you darted your eyes anywhere but his.

"I—"

"So—" Aaron started at the same time as you. Causing both of you to smile and laugh. Breaking away at the thick tension that was forming between you. Not used to being so vulnerable with a member of your team. Unable to rid your faces of the warmth that pooled in them.

“I’m no good at this,” you admitted with a bright smile. Running your fingers along the silverware on the cloth napkin.

“It’s not like we have time to practice,” Aaron joked.

“Especially when I already see you more than I see my own bed,” you snickered.

Aaron’s brows raised with a part of his lips, pretending to be hurt by your insinuation. Both of you attempting to bring down any walls you previously had pitched. Easier said than done when you know each other well enough already.

The Waiter returned, pouring you both a glass of the wine. Taking both your orders and scurrying back to the kitchen. Aaron held his glass out to you initiating a toast, “Well. Let’s get to know each other a little better tonight.”

You nodded in response, clinking your glass to his. Taking a small sip of the wine, fancier than you normally partook in. It practically melted down your throat. Some of the best you had ever tasted. Hotch had good taste.

"Tell me, what kinds of things do you normally do outside of work?" pressing his lips to the glass with his question.

"I really enjoy reading. I tried to join a book club, but really did not have the time. I usually pick something that I normally wouldn't read when I have the time to really focus on it. I like trying new things," you said with a sip of wine.

Aaron's eyes were sternly on you. Taking in every word you said as if he was going to be quizzed on it later. Or maybe he actually thought you were that interesting. Finding it difficult to let your guard down around him. Somehow feeling like you were being interrogated.

But.

You were not. Hotch's cheeks were glowing and round. Completely lost in how you told him about your hobbies. Closed mouth smile knitted along his jaw. And it never changed. The entire meal. You and Hotch went back and forth asking questions and learning more about the other. Sharing embarrassing stories of your youth, shocked when Hotch admitted to being such a big fan of Star Wars. And about the costume he had hand-made one Halloween that was definitely a far reach from what a Storm Trooper looked like.

Slowly, your walls were collapsing all around you. Revealing truths about yourself that you did not know you were willing to share with someone else. Finding comfort in his deep laugh. And how he watched every single mannerism of yours. You learned that Hotch was secretly funny. A side of him you so seldom got to see. His wit was quick, somehow already knowing what made you laugh. Your food was delectable, pairing perfectly with the wine Aaron had chose. Hours went by, but it only felt like moments with him. And of course, he refused to let you pay.

What a gentleman.

You found yourself walking closely at his side, arms linked together. Circling the park that was nearby. Chill in the air, but otherwise perfect. The moon illuminated the ground you walked on. Reflecting against the fountain in the center. The sound of Aaron telling you another story like music to your ears. Enamored by his voice. Laughing when he got to the end. Separating to stand in front of one another at the park gate.

You sighed heavily, "Ugh... I have not been on a date in years. And the first one they set me up on is with... you." You gestured towards him.

"Should I be offended?" He cocked a brow with a tilt of his head.

"Oh God! No! Sorry— I did not mean that to come off that way. I just mean... They knew I liked you," you said slowly at the end. Realizing there was a good chance Hotch had never mentioned any prior interest in you. Merely being set up with you after a conversation Penelope and Derek had. Embarrassed that you had just admitted to harboring a crush on your boss. Meeting Aaron's eyes to see him smirking at you. A twinkle in his eyes with your confession.

"Don't look at me like that," you hid your face with a grin.

“You’re cute when you’re embarrassed,” Aaron lowly said, guiding your chin back to meet his gaze.

You could have sworn time froze. Never being this close to your boss before, let alone with his hand caressing your face so tenderly. Eyes darting between his. Their color reminding you of the trees in Autumn. One of the most beautiful things you had ever found yourself lost in. And you could see the same look from him. His lips parted slightly.

"I think you're very beautiful, Y/N," Aaron closed the gap between you. Lips tenderly meeting yours. Electricity shot through every inch of your body. Feeling your chest tighten as your heart raced. Your hand coming up to caress his face. He rested his forehead against yours as he pulled away. Grinning widely as he softly gleamed.

"I guess I should've told you myself," you giggled.

"Should've told me sooner," Aaron kissed you quickly once more. Stepping back and offering his arm to you once more. Walking in a comfortable silence back to the parking lot at the side of the restaurant.

"Guess this is goodbye," you said as you leaned against the cold exterior of your car.

"It doesn't have to," Aaron suggested, pulling an eyebrow raised look from you, "You could come home with me. We can watch a movie or something."

"Aaron Hotchner, are you trying to get laid tonight?"

"No," he laughed, flashing his perfect teeth, "I just like spending time with you."

You thought for a moment. Considering if this was overstepping for a first date. But it was Aaron. You had known him far before tonight.

"Okay."

You texted the group chat.

"I could kill you guys."

"Are you sending this from Hotch's apartment?" Emily questioned with the emoji that had its tongue out.

You replied with a rolling eye.

"We will take that as a yes! I'm texting Derek right now!" Penelope sent with a overuse of exclamation points.

"Get off your phone and enjoy your night!" J.J. sent.

You looked up from your phone as Hotch entered the room. Changed into a t-shirt and some pajama pants. Carrying some clothing in his arms, "I don't really have much for you, but you can try any of these. Wear whatever makes you most comfortable." He smiled like a giddy teenager. Finding yourself fond of this new version of Aaron you had gotten to know.

"Thank you," you accepted the wadded up clothing. Excusing yourself to his bathroom to get changed. Opting for one of his pairs of shorts and a t-shirt that had to be too big for him. Coming back to see him on the couch with drinks sitting on the table before him, a blanket folded in your seat. You had no idea he was such a romantic. Trying his best to impress you and make you feel safe here with him. You took your place beside him, his eyes watching you sit.

"Anything in particular you want to watch?"

"Just put on one of your favorites... so I can judge if you have good taste in movies like you do wine," you teased.

Aaron smiled. Arm rested on the back of the couch, softly around your back.

You spent the rest of the night binging each other's favorite movies.

~~~

[END]

// Thank you so much for reading! Happy to be back writing for Hotch again, I have kinda taken a hiatus from watching Criminal Minds right now. No particular reason, just am. Anywho- I really hope you enjoy this fluffy fanfic. Reblogs and Comments are appreciated! //

{tags}

@viennasolace ~ @bondwithme-murderstyle ~ @cherriready ~ @mrs-ssa-hotch ~ @khxna ~ @justyourusualash ~ @boybandbaby ~ @hoffmanfan13 ~ @megangovier ~ @maybe-a-pilot ~ @michasia24 ~ @gottalovebroody ~ @bedouinpoet ~ @lovelykat001 ~ @pastelpinkflowerlife ~ @ravennawritesfanfiction ~

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #thomas gibson #thomas gibson x reader #writing #sexymonsterfics #fluff

613 notes · View notes

miley1442111 · 9 months ago

Text

insecurity- a.hotchner

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

summary: aaron starts to overthink and doesn't realise how it's impacting the relaitionship.

pairing: aaron hotchner x fiancé! reader

warnings: angst, fluff, aaron is super insecure about his body, reader is upset with him, suggestive mentions, fade to black smut, kissing, aaron ignores reader and is kind of a dickhead, cursing, angsty for a moment (I think that's it?)

not entirely proofread

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

“Not good enough.”

The sentence rang out in his mind as he knocked on your apartment door.

“She’s too young for you, she’ll get bored.”

“Hi handsome,” your bright eyes met his, your perfect figure clad in a t-shirt and jeans, your hair done how he loved, and he smiled.

“Hi beautiful,” he smiled. Adjectives became names with him. You smiled. “Ready to go?”

“All packed and ready,” you smiled.

You were moving in. And Aaron was shitting it.

“How could she ever find you attractive?” “She’s too young for you.” “Jack will hate you when she leaves you.”

He’d been a careful and logistical man his entire life, and all of that, all the walls and things he’d put in place to protect himself had disintegrated when you confessed to him and asked him out.

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

“Hey boss,” you smiled, knocking on his open door. “Can I talk to you?”

He’d smiled and nodded. It was 9pm, much later than you usually stayed ‘til. It had been months of fleeting glances, scorching touches, and mixed signals. Tonight was the night you’d change that.

“Of course,” he’d offered you a seat and you smiled up at him. He thought you were gorgeous, even after the excessive amount of running you’d all had to do (since the unsub almost got away), and the long three days of no sleep.

“Can I say something? And if it’s weird, or wrong, or if it makes you uncomfortable please just tell me to shut up and-”

“I’d never tell you to shut up,” Aaron chuckled, god much he liked you was getting pathetic.

You smiled. “I’d like to go out with you, like on a date,” You swallowed nervously. “Would that be something you’d be interested in?”

Aaron’s entire throat went dry and a million thoughts ran through his head, every single one of them about you.

“She’s joking, there’s no way she’d ever-”

“I’d be very interested,” his lips moved before his brain could even comprehend what he was saying. Every wall, everything that he’d put up to protect himself, it all crumbled to the ground in an instant. You had a knack for making him feel completely raw, completely at your mercy, and he hated to love it.

You smiled. Your beautiful, indescribable smile. “Good,” you were trying to not smile so hard, but it was proving difficult when he was sitting there so prettily, so Aaron. “How about Thursday, since Fridays are you and Jack time? I know this great tapas bar?”

You even knew Fridays didn’t work since they were ‘Jack and Dad night’. Could you be more perfect? “That sounds great.”

You’d left his office with a smile on your face. He watched you leave and realised he was fucked.

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

“Earth to Aaron?” You waved a hand in front of his face. “You alright?”

“I’m alright,” he chuckled. “Don’t worry.”

“Dad’s a crazy old man!” Jack giggled. You both laughed along, but Aaron couldn’t help but feel the sting. He knew it was a joke, he knew this was all irrational, but it still hurt all the same.

“Jack!’ you scolded playfully. “He’s only 48.”

Jack rolled his eyes and laughed, then got in the car.

“You’re not crazy to me,” you pressed a quick kiss to his lips and smiled. “Promise.”

He smiled back, but he was still riddled with anxiety, and he was scared. Aaron hadn’t been scared since Floyd. He was scared because he knew the power you had over him, and he knew you didn’t even know the magnitude of that power. You were his guiding star, his everything.

“I love you,” He beamed, despite the inner monologue that was tormenting him.

You softened. “I love you too. Ready to go?”

“All ready,” he smiled.

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

The first week, you could tell something was up with Aaron. He was quieter, less physical, and seemingly, work was more interesting than you.

You frowned every time he came home late and left for work early, just wanting a moment or two alone with your fiancé. When you met him at work, it wasn’t much different which, granted, wasn’t unusual. He was averse to pda, especially in the workplace, and he didn’t much like sharing his personal life with the team unless it was completely necessary.

But it was getting strange when even on cases where you’d be sharing a hotel room, he’d choose not to have sex, citing that he was too tired.

Now, your sex life was great, he was great. You hadn't gone more than a week without having sex since the first time you did it, which was a month into your relationship. Had you done something to annoy him? You weren’t sure.

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

Living with you was a blessing and a curse. On the one hand, you were always there. On the other hand, you were always there. He dug himself deeper, hating the scars on his body and the way his hair greyed at the roots. He hated the extra fat he’d put on, and decided to work himself harder in the gym. He hadn’t gone in a while, choosing to spend his time with you instead. Why did he feel like this? Aaron Hotchener had always been a smart, logical, confident man. Now? He was scared to be shirtless in front of his own fiancé. It’s not like he didn’t think he was handsome, he knew he was good-looking. Maybe not as good as he did in his prime, but still good-looking. It’s just that you were so… young and so beautiful. You two were so opposites, he was 48 and you were practically fresh out of the academy in his eyes (You were not fresh out of the academy, you’d been working with him for years). When you two went out, people hit on you, and you had to point to him and say that he was your boyfriend. The way the guys looked at him, the younger, more attractive guys, made him feel small.

Aaron Hotchner did not like feeling small, so he decided to make a change. No sex (unless initiated by you) until he felt confident again.

When would that be, you may ask? He had no clue.

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

Ok, three weeks with no sex and you were even more worried. But, at least you two had the weekend off since work was quiet and Jack was off to Jessica’s to be with his cousins.

You walked into his office to see him sweaty and clearly more tired than usual. Aaron had been coming home later, not at all interested in wedding planning, and just not mentally in the room with you or Jack in recent weeks. It was worrying you to say the least. Were you losing him? Was he cheating?

“Hey boss, here’s the reports from me, Jj, Spencer, and Derek,” You handed him the reports from the last cases, and he barely looked up at you. You felt something other than hurt and confusion started to bubble, anger. Why the fuck was he treating you like this? You’d done nothing that you were aware of and anyways, he had no right to not talk to you if he was upset. He’s a grown man, he can talk about his fucking feelings.

You walked out without another word, deciding that it was time to be angry, not worried.

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

You got home later than usual, deciding to head out to dinner with Penelope after work, and when you got inside you found Aaron on the couch, waiting up for you.

“Where were you?” He asked through gritted teeth. Oh, now he wanted to talk.

“Out,” your answer was short, and ambiguous enough to warrant other questions.

“Where?” he asked again.

“Bar.”

“Y/n,” his voice was low.

“With Penelope.”

He sighed and got up, walking over to you. “Why aren’t you talking to me?”

The look of annoyance on your face made him stop in his tracks.

“Why am I not talking to you?! You’ve been ignoring me for 3 fucking weeks Aaron!” you shot back. “You come home late, you’re never here when you are here, you ignore me at work, you ignore me at home, I’m the one hanging out with Jack on the weekends, not you and we haven’t so much as kissed in three weeks. If you want me to move back out i-if this is too much for you, I can do that, I don’t mind. I’m just so sick of being treated like I don’t exist, like I’m not your fucking fiancé,” your voice got smaller as you went on, realising just how frustrated you were getting with it all. “It’s not fair Aaron.”

Aaron could feel his heart breaking, while his insecurities swallowed him up, he forgot about how it would make you feel and how it would impact your relationship. “Honey I’m-”

“I love you Aaron. I love you so much, and for a while I thought I did something wrong, like really really wrong. Like maybe I overstepped with Jack, or maybe I upset you somehow. And if I’m right, please just tell me. These last few weeks have been torture trying to figure out why you’re mad,” you begged, small tears cascading down your cheeks as emotion overcame you.

Aaron hadn’t remembered how good it felt to be told he was loved by you. Obviously you said it everyday, but it sometimes becomes ‘just a thing someone says’. But not with you. You said it with your full chest, only to people who meant something. Aaron meant something to you. He realised how he should have remembered that. He should have remembered that you had loved him despite how he looked and acted, that you stood by him during Foyet, not because you were in love with him (not yet anyway) but because you loved him (even if it was just as a friend then). You were the most loving person he’d ever met, and he felt ashamed that he;d ever let his insecurities blind him to the beautiful reality he was living. He was going to marry you. He was living with you.

What was he thinking?

“I’m so sorry Honey,” he pleaded. “I was worried.”

You stood there dumbfounded. “Worried about what?” You spat.

“I worried… that I was too old for you… that you’d look at me and think that you’re without,” he admitted. “Jack thinks I’m old, I thought it was only a matter of time before you came to the same conclusion. I’m not as young as you, and I don’t measure up in… well in looks. You’re fucking beautiful and stunning and beside you I’m just… me. Scars and all.”

You sighed and took his hand. “You’re 48 Aaron, not 77. Alright? Better yet, you’re a hot 48 year old. But you know what’s better than that? You love me. You’re sweet to me, and you treat me well. I feel the love from you everyday. That’s what I give a shit about, that we love each other. Is that not what you care about?” you asked, a hint of insecurity in your voice.

“Of course I care about that,” he nodded, glad you were letting him touch you. “I was just…”

“Getting your own head about things?” you finished for him and he nodded. “I understand. But in future please just come to me, yeah?”

“I’m sorry I made you cry,” he added, softly cupping your cheek and drying your wet eyes. “I’m so sorry.”

You cracked a smile, chuckling lightly as you cupped his cheeks. “It’s ok.”

He shook his head. “No, it’s not.”

You chuckled as you pulled him in to kiss you. “It’s alright,” you whispered against his lips. You quickly pulled away realising you had another question to ask. “You’re not cheating on me, right? Like, why have you been coming home so late?”

He chuckled and smiled at you. “No, you’re enough for me to handle.”

“So what have you been doing,” you asked.

He looked down in embarrassment. “It’s stupid.”

“I want to know,” you pushed, a smile on your face.

“I’ve been going to the gym,” he admitted, his cheeks heating up. “Don’t laugh.”

You stared at him in shock, then playfully hit him on the chest. “You bitch! We could’ve been going together!”

He laughed, then pressed his lips to yours again. “We will.”

“Y’know what else I’ve missed?” you smirked as he pulled your waist into his.

“What?” he pressed a kiss to your neck.

“Sex.”

He smirked. “Well, I do have a lot of making up to do, don’t I?”

You nodded, pulling towards the stairs. “Yes you do.”

As you two made it to the top of the stairs, he pressed his lips to yours again. “I love you.”

“Shut up and fuck me Aaron.”

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

criminal minds masterlist :)

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

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

1K notes · View notes

mariasont · 11 months ago

Note

hi hi hi!!! i know you’re working on the bau sleepover buttttt i was wondering if you could write a aaron hotchner x reader fic where like what happened to garcia, reader gets shot and she’s in hospital and they don’t know if she gonna be okay and stuff. her and hotch have this mutual pining for each other and when she gets shot he kinda spirals. after being released, hotch takes her to her apartment and stays with her until they catch him and stuff. i know this is really long, thank you!!!

Some Profiler You Are - A.H

a/n: hi hi hi thank you so so sooo much for requesting <3 i kind of took this a more fluffy route and focused more on the recovery so let me know if you like it :)

masterlist

‧₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧

pairings: aaron hotchner x fem!reader

warnings: reader was shot, comfort, angst like a teensy bit, fluff, changing of bandages, kinda shitty ending per usual

wc: 2k

"Do you want to sit down?"

No, you really didn't. After spending the last six hours in a state of near-motionlessness, sprawled across various surfaces, the last thing you wanted was to do was sit down. Your legs had taken on the consistency of overcooked noodles, so you made the grave mistake of misreading the quiet of the house as Hotch's absence, a mistake punctuated by the garage door's sudden rumble.

You should have known better than to assume he would leave you alone for even a second. Now, you were face to face, his scrutinizing eyes boring into yours, arms crossed across his wide chest. He was in a casual zip-up--a rarity that you never imagined him wearing before practically moving in with him. But you really did enjoy this relaxed side of him, he wore it exceptionally well.

Taking work off was a concept you knew was foreign him, yet here he was, not at his desk, hovering over you like a concerned parent. The entire office, yourself included, gaped at him as if he had sprouted a different head when he told them. His next move was even crazier--he insisted you stay with him while you recovered.

You protested. A lot. Shocker. But he wouldn't take no for an answer. Again, Shocker.

You winced as you stepped forward, your hands automatically gravitating to the bandage that spanned around your thigh.

"You can't baby me forever, Hotch," you murmured, though your conviction wavered under the dull throb in your leg.

You braced yourself against the counter, trying to mask the discomfort you were sure was etched all over your face.

Filling the shoes of the communications liaison for the FBI post-JJ's shift to profiling, you signed up for a life of managing the media narrative, being the conduit between local and federal levels, and choosing the cases. You provided assistance in ways that aren't glaringly obvious.

What you didn't sign up for is getting shot.

The movies, the stories, even the firsthand accounts from coworkers--none of it could brace you for the raw, blistering pain of a gunshot wound. It fucking hurt. And the recovery? It was a different kind of torture, and you'd even argue that it was worse.

"It's not babying, it's common sense," Hotch countered.

He was frustrated. You had that effect. He stepped closer, his hand dragging down his face. "You took a bullet. It's still in your leg. It's perfectly rational for me to want to prevent any unnecessary strain on you."

"Feels dramatic," you shrugged, but he was right, like always.

Your grip on the counter tightened, knuckles growing white as you struggled to keep the pain under wraps. His brows lifted in response.

"I'm fine, really, Hotch. I hate this. You're probably dying to get back to work--don't let me be the reason you don't. Despite popular belief, I'm quite capable of fending for myself."

"I'm aware," he said, his attention briefly shifting to your bandaged leg. You were wearing shorts, a choice that felt less than appropriate, but practicality trumped formality under these circumstances. "Work will survive without me. I'm not sure I can say the same about you."

Your laughter was short-lived, swiftly turning into a stifled grimace as your footing slipped. Hotch's reflexes were quick, his hands steadying you--one against your ribs, the other just shy above the hem of your shorts.

"Point in case."

"Poking fun at a wounded woman? Shame on you, Hotch," you chided, your lower lip jutting out in a pout. His eyes darted to it momentarily.

He didn't move, his hands staying put, stirring a gentle, jelly-like feeling inside of you.

This was an odd sort of comfort, the kind you're not supposed to feel with your boss. You shouldn't be talking to him like this, shouldn't be in his kitchen, and certainly, his hands shouldn't be where they were. But the ache in your heart didn't seem to care about shoulds and shouldn'ts.

Hotch's presence was hard to ignore. He was reducing the space with every word.

"You're hardly acting like a wounded woman," he pointed out. "You should be in bed."

You tilted your head, sliding onto the barstool to carve some much-needed space between you. The scent of his cologne was intoxicating, and you needed distance to gather your wits before you did something that HR would definitely not look kindly upon.

The action was a mistake, a fact that became painfully clear as the feeling of something stabbing into your leg took hold. You tried to muster a smile, but you were sure it came across as a snarl. The last thing you wanted was to inflate Hotch's ego by showing that maybe, just maybe, he was right.

"Shit."

You followed his line of sight, landing on the fresh red seeping through the bandage and staining your shorts. Oh. That's not great. Don't think you can fool him with this one.

Hotch didn't hesitate, his response outpacing your own surge of panic, which was incredibly fast, because you were panicking and frankly not that great with blood. His hands were on your skin, easing the hem of your shorts upward to lay bare the wound you had stupidly underestimated.

You're never going on a date again.

I mean, the only reason you even went was to get your boss of your mind. Since the first day, you'd been hopelessly drawn to him--how could you not be?

But there are a couple factors to consider.

Firstly, he was your boss, and the whole notion of a coercive relationship dynamic seemed problematic.

Secondly, there's the age difference; it had never been an issue for you--perhaps a reflection of your daddy issues--but you knew it would raise some eyebrows.

And thirdly, he didn't even like you back. That was, of course, the biggest issue. If not for this, the other concerns could definitely be overlooked.

Before this whole incident, he barely acknowledged you beyond was professionally required of him. You knew you hadn't been part of the team long enough to bond--though you weren't sure Hotch did bond in the usual sense, but the point was made.

You were fairly sure you hadn't made much of an impression on him.

"Hold still." That was a tall order, considering it hurt more than a mother fucker.

You found yourself glaring at him--not that he was to blame, but you needed to anchor your frustration on something, or someone. Unknowingly, your grip had latched on the fabric of his zip-up, but he seemed unfazed. He grabbed a clean cloth from the drawer, pressing it against the wound, only furthering the colorful vocabulary going on in your head.

"Fuck, Hotch."

You didn't make a habit of cursing in front of your superior, but the sharp sting forced tears to the brink, your body going rigid as you snapped your eyes shut.

His other hand found its way to your uninjured thigh, giving it a firm squeeze--a clear attempt to divert your attention. It worked for a second. "I'm sorry, just keep this pressed here, okay?"

He motioned toward the cloth, and you complied, too drained to consider otherwise. Your brows knitted, and you bit into your lip until you tasted something metallicy, your mind desperately racing trying to think of anything other than the blood flowing freely from your thigh.

"Where are you going?" You knew how panicked you sounded as he turned away, stepping towards a cabinet.

He rummaged briefly before holding up a first aid kit. Catching the brief alarm in your face, he quickly returned to your side, his hand finding the crook of your neck as you instinctively clutched at his shirt once again.

"If you dare say I told you so, I swear, Hotch, fists will fly," you ground out through clenched teeth.

He laughed, and now that did distract you, your eyes zeroing in on his perfect teeth. It was a rare display, and it only served to aggravate you further. Of course he had perfect teeth.

"I didn't say anything."

"I could feel you thinking it," you said, your voice rough as you willed the moisture in your eyes not to fall. "Maybe I should be a profiler."

"Definitely."

"Sarcasm doesn't suit you." You were lying. Everything suited him. He stepped back, and you reluctantly peered at the wound, only to find a neatly sutured leg. "Where did you learn to do that?"

"In this job, you learn to be handy with more than just a gun.”

You’d love to know what else he’s handy with.

He pulled your leg up to rest on his as he took a seat on the opposite stool.

Your body was buzzing, from the closeness, from his hands on you, and also from the pain, but you were trying to ignore that. He grabs a new bandage from the counter, hands trailing up your thigh so slowly you thought you might pass out. He was so gentle. There was no other word for it.

"How's it feel?"

You paused. Eyes fully locked on his precise movements as he wrapped you up. You were closer than you realized, practically sharing the same breath.

"Fine."

"Yeah?"

You nodded, and he finished up his task, his hand lightly patting your thigh to show he was done. You didn't move your leg from his lap, and he didn't move his hand.

"I couldn't sleep for three days."

"What?" Your brows were furrowed, your focus sharpening on his face as the words left his lips.

"When I found out you had been shot." He cleared his throat, his thumb making gentle rotations on your calf. "I couldn't close my eyes without seeing red for days. I wanted to kill the son of a bitch who did that to you. I almost did."

You weren't sure how to process this information, or why he was telling you. "You and me both."

"I'm serious." And you could tell he was, his eyes narrowing slightly as his hand firmly encircled around your leg. You felt a lump in your throat form as heat rose from your neck to your ears. "Do you know what that was like? I felt like my heart stopped."

"Why?"

"Why?" It was more a scoff than a word. He blew out a breath, his fingers pinching into the space between his eyebrows. "Is it not obvious?"

Your heart was beating a lot faster. You wanted to say something, anything but your throat was dry and every time you opened your mouth you found it snapping shut.

Hotch's expression softened ever so slightly, his voice low and bouncing off the walls as he spoke. "Because I'm in love with you."

Your breath stalled, as if every ounce of oxygen had been vacuumed from your lungs. The air felt heavy, almost tangible.

You stared at him, heart skipping a beat.

"That's not funny," you said. It wasn't. You weren't in the mood for jokes, and your brain couldn't comprehend he might be telling the truth. "You...you don't even notice me."

He shook his head. "I notice everything about you." His thumb stilled on your calf. "I'm your boss," he said, as if that explained everything. "There are rules, protocols. I couldn't...I still shouldn't..."

The confession stripped the room of its warmth, leaving a raw aching silence in its wake. You searched his face.

"When you got shot," he continued, "I realized that if I lost you, I'd regret not telling you how I feel for the rest of my life."

"Hotch, I..."

He leaned closer, causing your words to catch in your throat. His hand moved from your leg to your face. You were speechless, the world narrowing down to the man in front of you, to his eyes, the warmth of his hands.

"Say something."

"Are you kidding me?" Your heart was pounding like it was trying to escape from your chest. "I've been in love with you since I started. How could you not see that?"

He looked taken aback, as if your words were the last thing he expected. "Well—,"

But you didn't let him finish. "Some profiler you are."

You were practically climbing into his lap, hands framing his face, pulling your lips to his.

He chuckled against your lips, the sound vibrating through you. "Easy," he murmured, "don't make me fix that bandage again."

You laugh, the sound muffled by his mouth. He tasted like cinnamon and coffee. "Shut up, Hotch."

taglist: @hotchhner @khxna

#aaron hotchner x reader #Aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner x fem reader #Aaron hotchner #Hotch #criminal minds fic #Aaron hotchner fic #criminal minds #Thomas Gibson

2K notes · View notes

mrs-kmikaelson · 1 month ago

Text

apollo

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x sunshine!reader Summary: Aaron thinks you're just about the most radiant person he's ever met. But then you fly too close to the sun, and all your light disappears. Warnings: grumpy x sunshine turned not sunshine, references to greek myth of icarus and the sun god helios, apollo lore, violence, mentions of reaper arc, heartbreak, complicated relationships, avoidance, unresolved trauma, feelings, hopeful ending Words: 4.8K

Masterlist | icarus (part 1) | helios (part 2)

a/n: this is the end! thank u for all the love! i love this series sm, and i'll prolly end up writing lil blurbs for it (esp at ur request). there's sm feelings in this one. enjoy!

"I need to leave, Y/N."

"Wait— wait, we can talk about this, can't we?" You stepped closer to her, distraught colouring your face. "We can get you help."

She shook her head, a sad smile crossing her face as if she was saying she knew you wouldn't understand. Poor, sweet Y/N, her eyes said. Too good for this world. Too naïve. Too hopeful. What she ended up saying was, "No, Y/N. I can't."

"I— I don't understand." Tears welled up in your eyes. Her words didn't make sense. None of it made sense.

The smile on her face never fell. Only a single tear did, racing down her cheek. It occurred to you then that you'd never seen her cry.

"Oh, Y/N/N." She grabbed your hand, squeezing it tightly. "I hope you never have to."

When she let go of your hand, you knew there was nothing more you could say. She was leaving, and there was absolutely nothing you could do about it.

But, deep down, you knew she'd already been long gone.

"Goodbye, Y/N."

And before you knew it, she was out the door, too far away to hear you whisper back.

"Goodbye, Elle."

When Elle left, you didn't understand it. As the only female profilers, you stuck together like glue. You both came from units where you were at the top of your game, just to be shuffled back down to the bottom, having to learn an entirely new competence.

You didn't get it. The work tore her away. The job took too much away from her, took too much out of her. But that was the job. But what about you?

She could walk away from the job, fine. But why did she walk away from you?

You didn't get it then. Too young. Too naïve. Too hopeful.

But now you were older. You knew too much. The hope had been sucked out of you.

You understood now.

You understood what it meant to not be able to take it anymore, to not be able to face the people you loved while knowing you weren't the same. And you wanted to. You desperately wanted things to go back to the way they were.

You wanted to go back to Rossi ruffling your hair, cracking jokes about your age but always knowing he took you seriously. You wanted to go back to lunch breaks with Penelope, talking about your nails and boys and feeling like a teenager. You wanted to back to laughing in Emily's apartment, her cat crawling across your lap. You wanted to go back to watching sci-fi movies with Reid, too convoluted to grasp. You wanted to go back to when Derek would tease you instead of treating you like you were made of glass. You wanted to go back to watching JJ's son without her wondering if you were in the state of mind to do it.

And Hotch.

Aaron.

You wanted to hit rewind to before everything happened, if not just to be at his side again. Before you tried to kiss him and before he pulled away. Before a serial killer decided he was God and your life was his to play with.

But you couldn't, and now you understood Elle better than you ever did. Because no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't be the same sunshine everyone loved.

You couldn't stay there anymore.

You submitted your resignation. You didn't know what happened next—you never thought further along than the BAU.

But you had to leave.

You understood now.

You wished you didn't.

—

The words echoed throughout your head on a loop.

Hotch. Accident. Hospital.

The Reaper.

If it hadn't been for Morgan, you would've jumped into that SUV and driven there immediately. But he stopped you, taking away the keys and regarding you with a soft but firm stance. You both knew it wasn't safe for you to drive.

You didn't talk about the reasons why.

Now, you sat to Aaron's left. He was sleeping. He'd never seemed so peaceful.

How ironic it was that he had to be stabbed before he took a break. Even if you knew it wasn't peaceful, not really.

A U.S. Marshal had just come and retrieved Jack and Haley, taking them to an undisclosed location. Their lives were upended. His life was upended.

Your fearless leader, stony and brave. He approached every challenge with determination, like he knew he could beat it. Aaron Hotchner was a man who won battles. But when you walked into that hospital room, for the first time since you met him, he looked afraid.

He looked like he'd already lost.

Your heart squeezed in your chest. It wasn't fair.

Suddenly, a mumble broke you out of your thoughts. "I can hear you thinking in my sleep."

You looked down, seeing him slowly open his eyes. You fixed him with a smile, even though it didn't feel right on your lips. Be brave, Y/N, your mind chided. He'd be brave for you. "Really? I can hear you thinking in your sleep."

His face remained blank, unfazed by your attempt to change the subject. He did that often—calling you out. Never maliciously, always with the greater good at heart. But he knew you. Sometimes, it felt like he knew you too well.

You wondered, did you know him as well as he knew you?

You liked to think so.

Like usual, you crumbled under his gaze, looking away. If you kept looking at him, nothing would stop the onslaught of tears from making their way down your face, and you wouldn't do that to him. You wouldn't cry; it wasn't your right to. You weren't his wife.

But you were something. Enough of something to feel the need to cry, anyway.

A shaky exhale left your lips. "Why do bad things always happen to good people?"

The room was silent after your question, the only sounds being his heart monitor and the shuffling of the hospital outside. The beeping felt like a taunt, a reminder that Aaron's life hung in the balance, that he could've died.

It made you realize that you weren't specific enough. What you really meant was, why did bad things always happen to him?

Aaron Hotchner. The leader. The father. A good man. The best man you'd ever met.

The man you'd fallen in love with.

When he responded, you could hear the despair in his voice, like he had the same questions.

But for once, he didn't have the answers.

"I don't know."

—

You didn't have to knock on Aaron's door long before he was opening it, having expected you. You grinned, holding up the brown bags in your hands. "I come bearing gifts. Chinese."

"You're a godsend," he praised, undoing his house alarm. You had helped him install it when he got out of the hospital, no questions asked.

While he did that, you placed the food on the table, going to grab some plates and drinks. This was the rhythm you'd settled into, a routine. You came over every other night under the guise of updating him with your cases, but really, it was a lot more than that for you.

You hoped it was for him, too.

You always brought food. Sometimes, he even cooked (it was edible). It was your way of making sure he ate.

You never talked about what happened. He never talked about Haley or Jack, even though you knew they were the only thing on his mind. You talked about work, and the weather, and what movies you were gonna be watching after dinner, but never anything that mattered.

You didn't need to. This, being here, mattered. You didn't need anything more than that.

You just wanted him to know he wasn't alone. No matter what happened, you'd always be there for him. This was your way of showing that.

After watching a movie you didn't pay much attention to, you stood at the door, shrugging on your coat. You were just about to leave when his hand enveloped your wrist, making you turn around.

Curiously, you stared up at him. "Hotch?" Your voice was soft, the kind of soft that came with fragile things. Fragile. Delicate. Valuable.

Aaron opened his mouth and then closed it again, looking like he knew exactly what he wanted to say without knowing how to say it. He could command a room with quiet confidence, negotiate with the most unstable unsubs and power-hungry police chiefs, and give a profile like no one you'd ever met. But when it came to his own emotions, he was at a loss for words.

You weren't used to seeing that. There was something about it. You didn't like watching him struggle, but some part of you was satisfied that you could make him pause. It made you think that, maybe, he thought about you the same way you thought about him.

Just maybe.

When he seemed to collect his thoughts, he spoke. "Thank you." He didn't take his eyes off you, making sure you knew how earnest he was.

Your breath got caught in your throat. The weight of his gaze told you everything else he wasn't saying. How this wasn't just a thank you for the food or the DVD. This was a thank you for everything.

But, in your eyes, he had nothing to thank you for.

So you smiled and said, "Don't mention it."

And you hoped he knew how earnest you were, too.

—

You awoke to loud pounding on your door. You remained motionless, hoping the person would get bored and go away, but the knocking persisted.

Glancing at your alarm clock, you groaned. It was far too early for anyone to be visiting you. Today, any time would be too early. But the knocking only continued, so with another groan, you rolled out of bed, throwing on a sweater in a hassle as you yelled, "I'm coming!"

You muttered curses to yourself all the way to the door, hastily unlocking it. When you finally threw it open, you were ready to give someone a piece of your mind, only to bet met with who you were least expecting.

Your mouth fell open slightly, all your curses dying on your tongue. And like you'd been doused in water, you suddenly felt wide awake.

On the other side of the threshold, Derek Morgan gave you a soft smile, his expression light while his eyes carried all the heavy things you thought you left at the BAU.

Now, all those things were at your doorstep.

"Hi, princess." He paused. "We have to talk."

—

You would've thought that, after all your time in the BAU, you would've gotten used to hospitals.

Apparently not.

As your eyelids fluttered open, you were disoriented, instantly closing them again at the sheer bright lights. The sound of feet shuffling came to your ears, followed by a flicking sound.

When you opened your eyes again, the lights were off, and Derek Morgan stood in front of you. He gave you his classic smile, but for some reason, it looked a little tighter than usual, a little bit harder to conceive.

What had happened? Why did he look so sad? Was he okay?

"D-Derek?" you croaked, interrupted by a cough.

Quick on his feet, he was soon passing you a glass of water, guiding the straw into your mouth. "Easy there, easy. There you go." He was tending to you like you were a sick child. You weren't sick. You weren't a child.

What happened? Why was he taking care of you? Why did you need to be taken care of?

When he removed the straw from your mouth, you repeated your question. "Derek, what's wrong?"

He looked like he didn't want to answer you. Instead, he countered, "Y/N, do you remember what happened?"

As if his question singlehandedly opened pandora's box, pain suddenly radiated from your lower body, aching all over.

Your brain caught up with your body, and then the pain intensified.

You shakily exhaled. "Yes."

Derek exhaled, too, but his looked more like relief than anything. Relief that he wouldn't have to explain this to you. Relief that he wouldn't have to say the words out loud.

"You were in surgery for a while," he said. "Yesterday night. The doctors say you'll make a speedy recovery."

You didn't respond.

"Garcia's still flying in. She won't believe anything I say until she sees it with her own eyes," he lightly chuckled. But his tone was heavy. No jokes could erase that. "The others'll be on their way back when they wake up. I told 'em you were in good hands."

You wanted to laugh. You tried. The only thing that left your mouth was a sob.

Derek was immediately at your side, cradling your head into his chest, letting your tears soak his shirt and not saying a single word about any of it. You wanted that to make it feel better, but you just felt empty.

Like there were holes in your body.

—

You sat on your couch, wrapped in a warm blanket as Derek rummaged through your cupboards, looking for something to give that was fit for human consumption. You would've been a good host and offered him tea, but he already had a pot on the stove.

He said you looked like you hadn't eaten. You didn't deny it.

"Everything in your fridge is expired, so I ordered us some breakfast from that place downtown," he informed you, setting down two mugs of tea on the coffee table and taking a seat in the armchair across from you.

You watched the steam twirl into the air, nodding blankly.

Derek sighed. "Kid, I'm worried about you."

You sighed back in response. "I'm fine." The words came out harsher than intended.

Derek's eyes softened. "You quit your job, Y/N. You love the BAU."

Love. Loved. You shook your head, lightly scoffing through your nose. For the first time in a while, you were honest. "I love the BAU when it isn't taking everything away from me." You could count the things this job had taken from you on two hands too many, turning your reflection into a stranger.

It made you wonder what you'd do without it.

Derek's eyes didn't meet yours, looking down at the floor instead. The room went quiet. You could hear the cars outside, the rest of the world moving on while you stayed right where you were, stagnant.

Right now, you were in your apartment. Your feet were touching your hardwood floor. Your fingers played with a loose string on your blanket. Derek sat across from you. Your body was here.

But in reality, your mind was stuck in that house. Stuck walking into a trap with Morgan right behind you.

"I'm sorry."

At his sudden words, you looked up. His eyes locked with yours. You didn't know how long it'd been that you'd sat in silence, but you certainly didn't expect it to be broken with those words.

You furrowed your brows. "What?"

Despite the long period of quietness that came before, he didn't stay quiet now. He didn't even look like he had to think about what he was saying—almost like he'd thought it all a thousand times before. "Y/N, I'm sorry that you're in pain. And if I could switch places with you, I would— in a heartbeat." He leaned forward in his chair. "There's not a day that goes by that I don't think about what happened. About how I left you alone." His voice tightened up. "But Y/N, I swear to you, if you come back to the BAU, I won't ever leave you alone like that again."

Strong conviction laced his voice, like he was under oath. For a moment, you were confused by what he was saying. He never left you alone— oh.

Oh.

Tears welled up in your eyes. "Derek—" your voice cracked. Oh, you felt terrible. So, so terrible.

How long had one of your best friends blamed himself for something he had no control over? How long had this slipped past you?

You were supposed to be one of the best profilers in the nation.

But right now, you just felt terrible.

"Derek, I never blamed you." A tear slid down your cheek against your wishes. "This isn't your fault. It never was."

Your vision was so blurry that you didn't see him crying, but you did see him wipe at his eyes. That made you get up, and he met you in the middle, wrapping his arms around you and engulfing you in his embrace.

In his arms, you cried freely, just like that morning in the hospital. You cried for all the things you pretended not to cry about. For all the things you lost. The things you didn't see. The person you were. The person you could've been.

"I'll never leave you alone again, you hear me, kid?" Derek hugged you tighter through his muffled words, making sure you didn't just hear them but that you felt them. "We're family."

Family.

You hugged him back just as tight. If you lost everything, you still had that. You might have lost yourself, but your family was right there, shining a light in the darkness, looking for you.

You prayed they'd find you.

—

When Morgan left, it was dark out. He only left after a lot of crying and even more food, but you felt different. Reminded of what you still had.

You weren't okay. Nothing was okay. But you wanted to things to be able to get better. You didn't just want to give up and walk away from it everything. You built a life at the BAU with people you loved. Maybe there was one person you even loved too much.

God, he hurt you. He hurt you in irreversible ways, leaving you out in the cold multiple times, begging for him to see you just for him to turn away.

And you knew he cared about you. No one acted the way he did without caring. Sometimes, you thought Aaron Hotchner cared too much, masking it behind a wall of indifference.

Before all this happened, you were allowed behind the wall. He showed you the man he hid from others. You fell in love with that man. You missed him.

You just wanted to go back to those versions of yourself. The Y/N who would make a stupid joke late at night and the Aaron who would be too tired to pretend not to smile.

But Hotch wanted to talk about it. Aaron did, too, but it was mostly Hotch. A different version of him that was too concerned, too focused on drilling the truth out of you.

Could you give it to him? There was a time when you would've given him anything; all he had to do was ask. Now, you weren't so sure. There were certain parts of yourself you couldn't just hand out, certain things you wanted to keep for you and you alone.

You had already given up so much. You already gave your heart to Aaron Hotchner once, and he discarded it. Who was to say this time would be any different?

No. You couldn't give him everything.

But you'd give him something.

—

You found the route to Hotch's apartment the same way you did time and time before, like a dance you still knew the steps to. You knew when to turn right and when to turn left, when to keep going straight and when to stop. Nothing about this was unfamiliar.

Aaron Hotchner was once the most familiar person you'd ever known.

But you knew things were different.

Even though the elevator up to his floor hadn't changed and he still had the same mat outside his door, you knew that you weren't the same. You had changed. You weren't familiar anymore.

And so, when he opened the door and his brows raised up to his hairline, you understood the surprise. You didn't just do this—you didn't just show up at his apartment unannounced, not anymore.

His lips parted. You weren't sure if he was going to speak or if he was just in shock. You spoke first regardless.

"I, um," you wrung your hands together, "I don't have food this time." A nervous smile lit up your face, no less nervous than your first time in his office. Maybe more nervous this time. Maybe you hid it better back then.

And maybe he could hide his emotions better back then, too. The shock on his face didn't clear until after you had spoken. He blinked, then opened his door wider. "Please."

A small thank you left your lips as you walked in, crossing the threshold into a world you knew you wouldn't be able to leave again.

The apartment looked like it hadn't changed at all. The only thing that caught your eye were the toys splayed out on the living room floor.

Your heart spiked, but as if Hotch could read your mind, he said, "Jack is asleep."

Glad you weren't interrupting anything, the tension in your shoulders was released. You wondered if that's what he saw: visual cues that indicated your mental state. Was it mind reading or behaviour?

Was he a profiler, or did he just know you as well as you both thought he did?

You couldn't really tell anymore.

"Would you like something to drink?" he queried.

"No, I uh..." this was small talk. You weren't here for this; you didn't even know what you were here for, but it was for more than this.

Whatever you were here for, you had to figure it out before you lost your nerve.

You turned around, finding him right behind you. You inhaled a sharp breath. The last time he was this close to you—

"You hurt me, Hotch." The words tumbled out of your mouth before you even had the time to filter them. You watched his face fall. You continued, anyway. "You hurt me when you left me alone that night. And I— I can't fault you for rejection. But you left me all over again when I— when I needed you."

"Y/N." He took a step closer.

You took a step back.

"I needed you. I really, really needed you." Tears built in your eyes. "But you weren't there." You wiped away the tears in your eyes before they could fall, refusing to cry. "And then you have me go on the record to talk about the most horrible experience of my life, and suspend me when you don't get what you want. Like I'm just some rookie agent."

Unlike the previous conversations you'd had, Aaron didn't say anything to his defense. He stood there, unmoving, letting you say what you needed to say. You were equal parts grateful and equal parts angry. Exasperated.

You wanted him to say something. You wanted to know if it was really all in your head, if it really happened or if you imagined it. "Is that—" you faltered, "is that all I am to you, Hotch? Just an agent? Did I ever—" you swallowed, "did I ever mean anything to you?"

"Yes." His response was rapid, his eyes narrowing as if he was insulted by the question. As if he was shocked you could ever think otherwise. He took a step closer to you, and this time, you didn't step back. "If I have ever made you feel like you are 'just an agent,' then I sincerely apologize." He paused, his eyes boring into yours. "Y/N, you are one of the most qualified and accomplished agents I have ever met, let alone had the pleasure of working with. And I can say with absolute certainty that you are one of the best people I have ever known. You are beautiful, inside and out, and full of so much light that you have brightened every room you've walked into." His words reverberated through the quiet room, soaking into your bones and into every fibre of your being. "So, if I've pressured you since your return, it is because I am worried."

Your breath hitched as he took another step closer. "I'm sorry I wasn't there. I'm sorry for leaving you alone that night and every other night afterward. I was—" he took a breath, looking down briefly. When his eyes met yours again, they were just as honest. Brave. Afraid. "I was terrified I'd lose you. That I would ruin what we had. And then I was scared for what happened to you. Too afraid to look you in the eye after I made a decision that almost cost you your life. By the time you got back to the BAU, my fear wasn't just losing you physically. It was losing you. Your heart. Your spirit. All the things I love about you."

Your heart might've stopped then and there. After a few seconds, you echoed, "Love?"

Aaron didn't back down or retract what he said. He nodded, like he was confirming it you and to himself. "Yes."

There were words he wasn't saying; you understood that. There were words you weren't saying, either.

But you knew what it meant for things to go unsaid. People blamed themselves. People crumbled. They said things they didn't mean to compensate for what they weren't saying. They were crushed under the weight of it all.

You didn't want that to happen anymore.

You took a step back, not because you were stepping away from the conversation, but because you were stepping into it. You nodded toward the couch. "Let's have that talk."

Aaron's eyes flooded with relief. You both made your way to his couch and sat down.

And then you talked until the sun came up.

—

Your talk with Aaron wasn't easy. And despite your best promises to yourself, you still ended up crying, anyway.

You weren't naïve. That may have been the first conversation you had, but it wouldn't be the last. There was still so much you had to talk about, so much you had to work through, but you had the time to do it.

Your suspension was lifted, but you didn't return to the BAU. At least, not right away. You decided not to throw yourself back into it, to let yourself find your footing first and process everything you tried to shove down.

Every member of the team supported you, and you knew there was a spot waiting for you when you were ready. Garcia had reassured you there were issues with your resignation, anyway (which you knew was undoubtedly her doing). You thanked her for her troubles.

She visited you often while you were home alone, updating you on the team's shenanigans. And Rossi visited you with enough food to feed a shelter, rendering it pointless to go grocery shopping at all. You accused him of spoiling you. He retorted that he could cook for the whole team if he wanted to.

And that's how you ended up where you were, underneath the fairy lights in his backyard as Reid summarized Greek mythology to you.

Gesturing his hands in the air, he explained, "No, actually— although thought to be, Apollo is not the sun god. Helios is. Helios is meant to be a personification of the sun—the sun in human form. But Apollo is god of the sun—an important distinction in categorization. He's not the sun, but he's not supposed to be. He just has sunlike features, and— I'm sorry. I'm rambling, aren't I?"

He looked sheepish, but you were leaning forward in your seat. "No, not at all." You gave him a reassuring smile. "Please, keep going."

Spencer's eyes lit up, and he went on, "Well, Apollo has many more characteristics that make him an interesting god to look at it, like his love of truth, music, poetry, healing, and..."

As he continued, you couldn't help but connect what he was talking about to yourself.

He's not the sun.

But he's not supposed to be.

Inadvertently, you realized what you'd been trying to learn for so long. The answer was right in front of you the whole time, but now, you finally understood it.

You kept trying to be this person that didn't exist. The sun. A work of fiction. But you couldn't be that. The sun wasn't up all the time. It wasn't always bright. It was impossible to be light at every waking moment. The light didn't define Apollo, and it didn't define you.

No, you realized. You weren't the sun.

You were so much more than that.

taglist: @ithinkitzleslie @burrithorr @ill-be-okay-soon-enough @bunchofcells-blog @hotchspearl @famouslywaiting @lailamares @avis-writeshq @zoeyredbird1 @dyslexicreader64 @lolagaming23 @thomasshelbyswife @spct0r @qualitygiantshoepsychic @duruxoxo @idontlikesleeping

370 notes · View notes

avis-writeshq · 1 year ago

Note

hellooo <3

can i request a lil something for hotch about that one trend on tiktok “calling my bf my husband to see his reaction” thxx!

pairing: aaron hotchner x fem!reader genre: fluff, established relationship warnings: talks about marriage + commitment a/n: thank you for requesting lovely <3 wc: 650

Aaron’s confusion is palpable when he watches you prop your phone up by the corner of the car so that the front camera faces the both of you. He’s well aware of how you make videos of yourself to post on the internet – it’s actually how Penelope set the two of you up – but he’s never really been in any of the videos you’ve posted. The two of you are just going on a fast food trip and as soon as you step into the car, he finds himself incredibly underdressed. Granted, you always look lovely, but you still look far too overdressed to go to a drive-through.

“Are we going somewhere after this?” He asks slowly, his eyes raking over your figure and the way you fix up your hair.

“No, honey, I just wanted to dress up.” You smile at him, leaning over the console to kiss his cheek.

He frowns, a stark contrast to the brilliant blush on his cheeks and the redness of his ears. “This seems like a plot.”

“No plot,” you laugh again and turn to your camera. “Guys, my husband thinks that I’m plotting something. Can you believe that?”

Aaron’s brain short circuits as soon as the words register. His fingers go lax on the steering wheel and his jaw unhinges. He’s staring at you like you’ve got three heads and his blush travels all the way down his chest. He likes the sound of that. An entire lifetime with you flashes before his eyes and all of a sudden there’s a ridiculously wide smile on his face and his eyes are crinkled at the corners.

“You’re beautiful.”

You’re giggling. A hand over your mouth and your eyes have lit up with mirth. He spares a glance at the camera and he manages a small groan, covering his face with one hand in an effort to shield his reputation. You’re still laughing quietly, although your own cheeks are hot from his breathless compliments.

“Was this all just for a video?” Aaron asks, moving his free hand to your knee and squeezing. “Sweetheart, that’s cruel.”

“No, it isn’t! It’s just a silly video, Aaron, it’s not cruel,” You say through a smile, and you stop recording and pocket the phone. “You reacted really nicely though, I’m sure the video will do well.”

“Do other people not react well?” He asks, concerned. He doesn’t really want to think about how other boyfriends react to their significant other calling them ‘husband’, especially when he can’t imagine ever having a life without you in it.

You shrug as you respond, “one guy didn’t let his girlfriend finish her sentence before he was yelling that he ‘isn’t her husband’. Which is true, but he responded really quickly and really seriously that it didn’t seem like a joke. I don’t know how they are in real life though, so it could have been staged.”

His concern turns into one of mortification, mainly for the couple. “I don’t understand how someone could get into a relationship and have no end in mind.”

That alone is enough to have you swooning, and he leans over to kiss your forehead. You’re beaming at him, almost slyly, and he brushes your hair out of your face.

“We should go somewhere nice,” He decides, sitting back in his seat. He puts the car into drive. “You’re too pretty to go to a drive-through.”

You’re laughing again as he starts driving in the direction of your favourite Italian place, one hand on the wheel and the other on your thigh. You don’t know about the velvet ring box hidden underneath the drivers’ seat.

Two weeks later, the video you recorded garnishes a whopping 23.6 million views, pinned beside another with a ring as the thumbnail. That video has a terrifying 43.9 million views, and Aaron is not spared any teasing.

reblogs are always appreciated !

events page

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader fluff #aaron hotchner fluff #criminal minds #golden : a milestone event #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds x reader fluff #thomas gibson x reader #thomas gibson x reader fluff #thomas gibson #thomas gibson fluff

1K notes · View notes

hoe4hotchner · 6 months ago

Note

hi! can i request a hotch fic with shy!reader? like the reader has been in the BAU for a while and is known to be quiet and they start trying to open more to the team (specifically hotch) and the reader jokingly keeps calling hotch “oldman” or “grandpa” and like they get rlly close and the team wonders if their dating or not? thank you!! :))

Old man | [A.H]

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x gn!Reader CW: Fluff, Alcohol consumption somewhere in the middle, one kiss. WC: 1.3k

Working at the BAU had been a whirlwind for you. You’d joined the team a little over a year ago, but even after all this time, you still found yourself feeling quiet and reserved around your colleagues. While they were all kind and welcoming, it wasn’t easy for you to open up, especially when everyone else seemed so close-knit. You were known as the team’s quiet one - efficient and hardworking, but not particularly outspoken.

Your interactions with Hotch, however, had started to shift things. At first, you admired him from afar, his calm and composed demeanor had made you both nervous and intrigued. He was older, wiser, and had an air of authority that made you hesitate to speak up. But slowly, something began to change.

It started with small things. Hotch would catch your eye during meetings, offering a slight nod or a barely-there smile when you shared an idea. You noticed how he’d linger after team briefings, giving you subtle encouragement in his own way, telling you that your insights were valuable. It was these small moments that made you feel more comfortable, and a little braver around him.

Then, one day after a particularly grueling case, you found yourself standing by the coffee machine with Hotch. You were both exhausted, the silence between you comforting. You took a sip of your coffee and glanced at him, noticing how the lines around his eyes seemed a little deeper, the exhaustion written on his face.

“You alright… old man?” you teased quietly, barely looking up from your cup as you spoke.

For a moment, you weren’t sure how he’d take it, but when you glanced up, Hotch was smiling - an actual, soft smile that made something in your chest flutter.

“Old man?” he repeated, with an amused arch of his brow.

You shrugged, suppressing a grin. “You’ve been at this a lot longer than the rest of us, I mean except for Rossi,” you said, feeling a surge of bravery. “Just calling it like I see it.”

Hotch chuckled, a sound you rarely heard from him. “I suppose I’ll take that as a compliment,” he replied, his voice warm. “Though I don’t feel that old.”

It was a small exchange, but it opened the floodgates. After that, the teasing became a regular occurrence. You’d throw in a playful “old man” here and there, and Hotch would respond with a dry comment about your youth and energy. The team noticed, of course they did. Morgan would give you side glances, smirking whenever you slipped the nickname into conversation, while JJ and Emily exchanged looks with each other.

The banter became a way for you to feel more at ease, not just with Hotch but with the whole team. But there was something special about the way you and Hotch interacted, a certain closeness that wasn’t there with anyone else. He’d seek you out in quieter moments, asking how you were doing, offering advice on cases or just sharing a cup of coffee during the rare downtime. You started to open up more, sharing little pieces of yourself that you’d kept hidden for so long.

Then the team began to wonder. You could see it in the way they observed the two of you. During briefings, when Hotch would speak directly to you, his voice a little softer than usual, you’d catch Morgan’s raised eyebrows or Rossi’s grin. JJ had asked you once, out of the blue, if you were seeing anyone. When you’d said no, she’d hummed in response, her eyes darting briefly to Hotch’s office.

But you weren’t dating. At least, not in any official capacity. Sure, there were moments that felt like something more - like when Hotch would brush your hand as you passed files to each other or the way his gaze lingered on you a little longer than necessary when you were deep in thought. But neither of you had acknowledged it, not yet.

One evening after a case, the team had gone out for drinks. You were sitting at the bar, nursing a glass of wine, when Hotch slid into the seat beside you. You smiled at him, feeling the familiar warmth of his presence, and leaned in slightly.

“Old man, out at a bar? Didn’t think you had it in you,” you teased, bumping your shoulder against his.

He chuckled softly, his dark eyes gleaming in the dim light. “I’m full of surprises,” he said, his voice was low.

You sipped your wine, feeling bolder than usual, perhaps from the alcohol, or maybe just because it was Hotch. “Guess I’ll have to stick around long enough to see them,” you replied, your tone playful but with a hint of something more.

Hotch turned his head slightly, his gaze catching yours. There was a flicker of something in his eyes, something that made your heart skip a beat. He leaned in just a fraction, his voice dropping to a whisper. “I’d like that.”

Your breath hitched, your pulse quickening as you stared at him. There it was again - that tension, the unspoken connection between the two of you that was growing stronger by the day. You smiled softly, the warmth in your chest spreading.

The team noticed. Over the next few weeks, the teasing from Morgan and Emily grew more frequent. “So… you and Hotch, huh?” Morgan had asked one afternoon when you were both working late.

You’d blushed furiously, stammering something about it just being a joke, that you and Hotch were just colleagues, but Morgan didn’t seem convinced. “Sure, whatever you say, kid,” he’d said with a wink, leaving you flustered.

But the truth was, even you weren’t sure anymore. You and Hotch had grown close - closer than you’d ever imagined when you first joined the BAU. He made you feel seen, appreciated, and more comfortable in your own skin. And as much as you teased him about the age gap, there was something about Hotch that made you feel safe, cherished.

One evening, after the rest of the team had gone home, you found yourself in Hotch’s office, helping him sort through case files. The room was quiet, the only sound was the rustling of papers and the occasional hum of the air conditioning. You’d just handed him a report when his fingers brushed against yours, sending a jolt of electricity up your arm.

You looked up, your eyes meeting his, and for a moment, neither of you spoke. The air between you felt charged, heavy with something unspoken. Hotch's gaze softened, and before you could stop yourself, you blurted out, “We’re not… you know, dating, are we?”

The question hung in the air momentarily, and you immediately regretted asking it. But then Hotch smiled a soft, almost tender smile that made your heart race.

“Not yet,” he replied, his voice low and steady. “But I wouldn’t mind if we were.”

Your breath caught in your throat, and you stared at him, wide-eyed. He stepped closer, his fingers grazing your hand, and you felt the familiar warmth of his touch.

“Well… what are you waiting for, old man?” you teased, your voice shaking slightly with nervousness and excitement.

Hotch chuckled, leaning in just a little closer. “I guess I’ll just have to stop being so old-fashioned.”

And with that, he closed the gap between you, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your lips. It was gentle, sweet, and everything you hadn’t realized you’d been waiting for. When he pulled back, his forehead resting against yours, you smiled, your heart pounding in your chest.

“So… we’re dating now?” you asked softly, your fingers curling around his.

He nodded, his thumb brushing gently over your knuckles. “Looks like it.”

And from that moment on, the team didn’t have to wonder anymore.

1K notes · View notes

augustjoy · 7 months ago

Text

That’ll Show Them.

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

Aaron Hotchner x Single Mom! Reader

Angst/Fluff

Word count: 3569

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

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

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

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

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

“I heard he works for the FBI!”

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

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

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

“Did you see his hands?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What a sad way to get his attention.”

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

“She’s ridiculous if you ask me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Y: Of course! Will you be late tomorrow?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Kids, time for dinner!” You hollered.

“Coming mom!” Millie called.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hello?”

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

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

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

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

“Thanks sweetheart, see you soon.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Dad!”

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

“Mills…what’s wrong honey?”

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

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

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

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

“Don’t you like him?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I KNEW IT!” Scott shouted.

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

“Girlfriend?” Your gaze lifted to meet his.

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

“Yes! Of course!”

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

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

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

“I can do that!”

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

“Will you eventually be my mom then?”

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

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

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

1K notes · View notes

softtdaisy · 28 days ago

Text

need your touch / Aaron Hotchner

summary. Hotch didn’t realize he developed an aversion to being touched until he became touch-starved.

words count. 2 776

what to expect. kind of grumpy x sunshine, very sad, mention of foyet and the attack, but very sad

a/n. I had this idea reading a book and I felt so sad about the man suffering from that, that of course I wanted to do with Hotch too so here it is

criminal minds masterlist | F1 masterlist | general masterlist | request

The shivers. The disgust. The sudden need to wash his skin.

Hotch didn’t realize he developed an aversion to being touched until it was too late.

It wasn't until he actually became touch-starved that he realized this.

The first time he realized something might be wrong was after a case. One that they all thought would take days but was surprisingly done after a few hours. After they finished packing, Rossi walked behind him. “Well done,” he congratulated Hotch by patting his shoulder.

He had a slight and unconscious movement of recoil. Something Rossi didn’t notice, already focused on someone else. But something that stayed in Hotch’s mind and didn’t leave him.

Soon, he realized how every little moment where he was touched by somebody else made him feel sick.

He had to fight against the need to run to the bathroom after shaking hands with anybody.

He started avoiding every form of affection from the team, not that they were numerous but still present.

And if after his divorce with Haley, Hotch stopped the whole dating process, the idea of being intimate with someone became a real anxiety issue. Hands getting lost on his body, the feeling of lips leaving wet marks on his skin… this was too much for him. So much so that he didn’t even know how to get over this now.

And with months spent staying away from any type of physical contact, he started to feel the consequences on his mental health. He was the one avoiding it, but in his mind, the idea of being repulsive started to grow.

The thing was, he knew exactly where it came from.

It could have been “the best part” of this if he could find a way to fight against it.

But it was definitely the “worst part” of this whole mess.

Because there was nothing he could do about the memory of almost dying in the hands of George Foyet. Every physical contact was a reminder of the worst night of his life. His brain ended up associating it with the feeling of dying. Again and again.

If he had been feeling better, he probably would have found it funny that the universe decided to put you in his life at the exact moment he was starting to lose it.

Just like that, one day, when he arrived in the meeting room, you were there next to Penelope.

“Let me introduce you to the most amazing little fairy you will ever meet,” she said, her hands on your shoulder like a proud mom. Which, of course, caused some laughter from the team. Not that they doubt you could be some kind of fairy, especially if you were the one Penelope chose to work with her.

“As you know,” she pursued, “I asked to have another pair of hands to help me, and so here is my little ray of sunshine.”

“Ok,” you laughed, patting her hand gently. “I think we can stop with the cute nicknames; they got the idea.”

The whole time you spent explaining what your job would be, basically supporting Penelope in her office but also going more on the field with the team to be the connection between them and her, Hotch never stopped looking at you.

Penelope was right: you were a pure ray of sunshine. You lighted up the whole room in a way he forgot was possible after years of discovering the worst cases between these walls. You kept smiling and laughing, joking with Derek at his silly remarks and blushing when you heard Emily’s compliments on your hair. You were already a part of the team in less than five minutes.

And when you walked to him to shake his hand, he realized there was something even more special about you.

For the first time in months, he was able to touch someone else without feeling any disgust. It was even pleasing.

“Nice to meet you,” he said in a low voice, still in shock from the lack of reaction his body gave. He got lost in the beauty of your eyes when you looked at him. More than the color of them, which was straight from a painter’s palette for him, he found some peace in it. You didn’t know all the struggle he was going through.

You were like an open door to something new. To feel like himself again.

Of course, it would have been too easy if he could have just started to feel at ease next to you and put his touch revulsion away in a flash.

Hotch was still the boss, and you were working for him. If he were being as responsible as he felt he had to be, he would put a respectful distance between the two of you. He couldn’t be there, longing for your touch.

But, without meaning to, you were making things way harder for him.

You were the affectionate type. And soon the team learned that they couldn’t escape your overflowing need to have physical contact with them to show your appreciation. Even Spencer, who made it clear from the start that he wasn’t comfortable with this type of affection, ended up asking for some of yours.

Like the high five when the team progressed in the case, the handholding—or grabbing, in your case—for the person next to you in the plane or the comforting touch when you felt like one of them needed it. A hand on the shoulder, a squeeze on the arm, your fingers patting your thighs softly when a meeting was going wrong, or even a hug when it was necessary. It was a normal habit for you, and soon it became one for the team too.

You weren’t sure Hotch was appreciating it though. He was your boss, and for obvious reasons, you tried to keep a distance so you wouldn’t get fired for sexual harassment. But if you felt like some of them barely needed your affection—yet, still appreciated it—like Emily or Derek, and some truly loved having you around, like Penelope, there was something different with Hotch.

That man was the incarnation of sadness, and you couldn’t do anything about it.

The first time you overpassed your feelings about it was during a case involving children. The meeting with the sheriff went terribly wrong, and Hotch, who always seemed so calm and composed, let his anger out when he got up. Slamming the chair against the desk and closing the door just as hard.

You didn’t hesitate a single second before running after him. “Hotch!” you yelled, a little louder than intended since people turned around. Well, most did, except for the one concerned. You had to run after him outside to finally be able to grab his arm. “Oh god, I’m not trained for this stuff,” you said, out of breath.

He stayed silent. Still in shock that you went after him. Still in shock that your touch didn’t make him feel sick. Once again. He even found some comfort in the way your thumb was naturally brushing his wrist; he could feel your tenderness even through the tissue of his shirt.

“Are you ok?” you asked before laughing. “I’m stupid; of course you’re not. But…can I do anything?”

Hotch was impressive for many, many reasons. He was your boss, sure. He was older than you; it was a fact. But he was terribly and undeniably handsome. It wasn’t easy to be in front of him most of the time. But right now, alone in the street, facing his eyes that were leaving your face and his deep silence, it was even harder.

“Can I offer you a hug? Maybe?” Your voice was so low that you were convinced he didn’t hear you. Which was probably for the better. You could live with the idea of missing the opportunity because you didn’t speak loud enough. Less with the idea that he deliberately ignored you.

But soon, you watched his movement as he made a step towards you. As his arms opened up before closing against your body. As his head is buried in your neck. It took you a second to react, and you held him tight against you. Your hand went to his back to caress it slowly.

You wondered when was the last time he experienced a comforting hug.

Hotch knew it had been roughly a year.

The following weeks, you noticed Hotch took some distance with you. You’d like to say he did it again, but the truth was you don’t think he was doing it deliberately before the hug. Now he was doing everything to not be close to you.

It was late at night when your bell rang. The camera on your phone immediately gave you the image of the man standing in front of your door. A tall man with dark hair and a dark coat that you knew well since these days have been cold and it was your boss’ favorite.

You didn’t question Hotch's presence at your door until you opened it and were met by his sad figure. “This has to stay between us,” he immediately said in a hoarse voice. And before knowing what this was about, you nodded. You had the feeling you couldn’t refuse what he was asking for.

You watched as he entered your apartment. As he took off his coat, putting it on a hanger and hanging it on the coat rack in precise movements. Like he repeated it in his head many times to make sure everything went smoothly. Or to reassure him that if he didn’t mess up here, it meant he was doing the right thing.

And you watched as he faced you, again, and went to your arms immediately. This one took you by surprise. You were used to being the one initiating the hug, not the one receiving it. Or, more exactly in this case, giving it without offering it in the first place.

Because Hotch wasn’t holding you. He was being held by you. More than that, he was holding onto you tightly, craving your touch. You could feel his fingers grabbing the thin tissue of your pajamas. Like he feared you might disappear any second. Fearing that he would lose the only person that made him feel good about himself again.

The hand you put on his back slowly moved to his neck, softly touching and caressing his skin. In any other moment, this was something that would have stressed him. Hotch always felt sensitive in this part of his body. He used to love being touched there, but after these past months, the idea of someone else's hand here was impossible to conceive. But here he was, longing for your touch. Hoping you never stopped.

And when you leaned back, he was glad that your hand didn’t leave its place. “Let’s sit so we can talk, ok?” you offered in a whisper. It seemed right to grab his hand at that moment to guide him, as if your apartment wasn’t small enough that your living room was more than apparent from the door.

You found it funny, once you both settled in your vintage sofa, how you looked like two opposites. You are in your pajamas, far from the professional outfit you wore all day. While Hotch was still in his suit, it looked like his day had just started.

Except for the tired eyes and the exhausted expression. You knew it wasn’t even caused by work; you had a very casual office day. Maybe that was the saddest part. How life has exhausted him to a point of no return.

“Do you want to talk about it?” you asked, suddenly realizing that maybe you should give him the chance to decide instead of imposing an explanation.

At first, Hotch didn’t reply. His eyes were still on your hand holding his, how little it looked compared to his big fingers. There was something almost fragile in his behavior, how he looked smaller, trying to disappear in your cushion.

And so, you started to talk for him. You told him what you did when you got home, what you ate, and what you watched during dinner. Trying to keep his mind entertained. And since you had the habit of speaking with your hands, you kept playing with his fingers or hitting his thigh.

“You’re the first person that can touch me,” he finally said after hearing one of your silly facts about burning your soup the other day. But his revelation didn’t ruin the mood. Sure, you weren’t laughing anymore, neither was he—even if he didn’t truly laugh, simply giggling. But the way you turned to him, your knee falling on his lap and your hands grabbing his in a protective way, he felt at ease.

Hotch couldn’t look at you when he told you about Foyet, what happened that night, the stabs, and how he actually remembered everything compared to what he said to the others. But he was still looking at your hands. “After that, I realized that the idea of being touched was frightening. I just couldn’t handle it and avoided it at any cost. The feeling of someone else’s skin on mine was just…” He didn’t finish his sentence, closing his eyes at the memory of the sickness it used to give him.

When you stopped brushing his skin with your thumb, he put his hand on top of yours. “But not you,” he continued, looking up at you. “Being touched by you is like an antidote. I can’t explain it.”

Now that you were thinking about it, you realized that more than once you saw Hotch step back to not be touched by anyone. Something you never paid more attention to. You weren’t a profiler, not like the team. So you didn’t question his freeze when someone approached him, the tension in his jaw when he had to shake hands, or that the only person he sat next to on the plane was Spencer, the one that wouldn’t touch him without permission.

“I don’t want to escape your touch.” He said after a long pause. You could tell from his eyes that it wasn't easy for him to say those things. “I need it.”

This sounded like a confession. It was actually the first time that Hotch acknowledged that more than accepting your skin on his, it became a necessity. An urge to be touched by you. And feel alive.

“What are you asking me, Aaron?” You asked. You were confused about the situation. “I’m happy to help, and I would have understood if you had asked me to stop being this affectionate with you because it makes you feel uncomfortable. But here…”

Something changed in his eyes; you could see it. And before you could understand, Hotch was up and already walking to your door. “I’m sorry. This was inappropriate.”

Running after your boss in your pajamas and slippers was not on your to-do list today. So you grabbed his wrist, but when you tried to pull him close to you, he stopped at the same moment. And so you fell against his chest. Naturally, one of his hands went on your back to secure your body. You did the same, putting a hand on his chest.

It was hard to ignore the feeling of your bodies pressed against each other. “I want to help you,” you said in a low voice, like a secret you wanted to keep between you. “I’ll gladly do it.”

Something softened in his body when he couldn’t find the one thing he was convinced people had for his behavior. Judgment. Hotch had been convinced that anyone was judging him. And maybe some did, for what he knew.

You didn’t. All he could see was a comprehensive look and a will to do right.

“But I need you to guide me,” you added. Slowly, you went for his other hand, held it, and brought it to his chest.

You stayed like that. Skin to skin, body to body. This moment lasted longer than all the physical contact Hotch had in the past months. And you could feel his fingers untighten slowly, just like most of his body. Accepting your embrace, your touch, your help. You even saw a little smile grow on his lips, very subtle but that meant so much.

Maybe Hotch died a few months ago. Maybe a little part of him had accepted it.

But now, he had the feeling that in between your hands, he could experience life again. And with your help, making it worth living.

Tag List: @kiwriteswords @monzabee (if you want to be in it, ask me and I'll be happy to add you x)

613 notes · View notes