#wonder if aaron would laugh at this

[kevindavidday]

i'm actually going crazy at how badly i want to send this to aaron michael minyard but he isn't real so i'm tagging @minyard-05 in his place

[mariasont]

My Boss Won't Be Happy About This - A.H

a/n: back to bimbo brain rot!!!! inspired by the first season that one episode (you know the one) where hotch is all macho man with elle in jamaica

masterlist

₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧

pairings: aaron hotchner x bimbo!assistant!reader

summary: you’re wrongfully arrested and hotch is not happy about it

warnings: creepy officer, inaccuracies of how law enforcement works, hotch being sexy

wc: 1.3k

"Listen I'm not the type of girl to tell someone how to do their job, but I just don't think you're doing it right."

You were speaking to an empty room, or at least, you were speaking to the mirror in front of you. It's the kind of mirror you had seen in countless interrogation scenes, the kind you usually image Hotch standing behind. You let your gaze linger, wondering if eyes are studying you from the other side, listening to your monologue.

"Well, that, and I also just don't think it's very nice." Your brand spanking new heels were tapping against the dirty floor. 

You weren't happy about that. You weren't happy about any of this. Your feet ache, but the fear of the germs lurking on the floor paralyzes any thoughts of relief by removing your shoes.

"And hey, shouldn't I get a phone call? That's a rule, I think," you mumble, lips turning downward in an unusual frown. It seems like the right time for it. "My boss is not going to take this well. I mean, he's got this look, you know? The kind that makes you want to apologize for things you didn't even do."

You conjured up his daunting expression and released a jittery laugh, all while striving to disregard the biting cold blasting from the AC vent, which seemed determine to freeze you into place. 

You were seriously out of your element, not just in surroundings but in dress--so form-fitting it left very little to the imagination. It seemed to be a good idea for a date. That was before you realized said date would be a complete disaster. Now, it felt like a trap. It had been a spectacle for a man unworthy of the effort, and as you sat in this rigid chair, you found yourself tugging at the hem every other moment, a futile attempt to preserve some semblance of modesty.

"So, when he hears about this little error... Well, let's just say I wouldn't want to be in your shoes." Six hours had passed in this dreary space, and you could feel your sanity fraying at the edges. You muttered, half to yourself, "Not that they're as cute as mine, but you get the point."

The door hinge's creak made you sit bolt upright, a silent supplication for Hotch's rescue echoing through your mind. But today, it seemed, the gods were indifferent. The officer who had arrested you stepped in.

"Having fun talking to yourself?"

You flashed your sweetest smile. "Oh, tons! But I'd have much more fun if you'd uncuff me."

He said nothing, folding his arms over his chest as he dragged his gaze up and down your body in a way that made your skin prickle in discomfort. You attempted to dispel the creeping dread, but it stubbornly lingered.

You did what you could to cover up, despite the awkward angle of your arms. "Listen, this is all just a big mistake. I work for the FBI," you insisted, though it was clear the officer's attention was fixated on your tits rather than your words. "Well, I mean, I'm an assistant for the unit chief of the BAU unit. You've heard of Aaron Hotchner, haven't you?"

The officer's mouth closed without a word, as the door was thrust open yet again, and this time, your heart leapt in recognition. Your knight in shining armor with a lethal expression.

His eyes instantly zeroed in on the officer with a look that could curdle blood, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of relief that you weren't the object of his anger. He approached you wordlessly, his every motion precise and determined.

He carefully shed his jacket, a gesture he seldom made, and draped it across your shoulders. The fleeting caress of his hand against your skin was enough to make you lean into his touch. You let out a breath that you had been unconsciously holding back. 

You watched as Hotch turned, his voice a low, steady force, his words carefully chosen and tinged with an unsettling peace. "Officer," he began, the title spoken almost as warning. "I believe there has been a grave misunderstanding. This woman is not only an esteemed member of the FBI, but she is also under my direct supervision."

He stepped closer, encroaching on the officer's personal space. You watched, almost in slow motion, as the officer's expression morphed into one of sheer terror, his earlier confidence dissolving like sugar in hot tea.

"Six hours," he continued, his voice never rising yet somehow it took up all the space in the confined room. "Six hours of unwarranted detention, without due process. I expect her immediate release. And make no mistake, this lapse in judgment will have its ramifications."

The officer was mute, his fingers clumsily unlocking the handcuffs, his movements hurried, his hands trembling. A twinge of pity flickered within you, but it was quickly overshadowed by the memory of considering the table as a makeshift blanket.

The moment the metal clicked open; you wasted no time. You flung your arms around Hotch, the pent relief and biting chill of the past few hours pouring out of you. You were desperate for warmth, specifically his warmth.

He stiffened, caught off guard by your actions. You feel the anger radiating through him, practically pulsing through his skin. As you clung to him, you felt the draft on your legs as your dress slid up, and without missing a beat Hotch's hand discreetly adjusted the fabric, all while keeping his eyes locked on the officer, a silent warning in his gaze.

Once he was certain you were decently covered, he allowed himself to draw him into his arms. One arm secured around your waist, the other weaving through your hair. You were cold. It renewed another tide of rage through his bloodstream.

With the officer's departure, the room's oppressive atmosphere lightened a touch, leaving you still latched onto your boss.

"Oh, sir, you wouldn't believe it," you started, his hands tracing up your spine and sparking a trail of goosebumps that had nothing to do with the chill. "They kept asking me about a heist, as if I'd know anything about that! And then they show me this picture, and I mean, sure, she had my hair, but that's about it."

You rambled on, and he let you, the absurdity of the situation pouring out in a stream of consciousness. Hotch's hold on you tightened. You could sense the coiled tension in him, a tempest of anger held a bay.

"And the room, it was so cold! I mean, I'm sure you can tell. My teeth were chattering, and all I could think of was how I'd rather be filing your paperwork or listening to Reid's factoids about the quantum mechanics of coffee beans."

You felt Hotch's breath on your hair as he let out a sigh. 

"I'm just glad you're here now," you whispered, finally allowing yourself to relax in his embrace.

Hotch gave a curt nod, his jaw set. He was itching to confront the officer, to unleash a tirade not meant for your ears. But he was well aware of how much you needed him right now, and that trumped everything in his book.

Hotch took a moment to compose himself before speaking. "This isn't just incompetence; it's negligence. I will have this place reevaluated for its standards, or lack thereof."

You took a step back, hands still resting on his arms, and he maintained his grip on your waist. "I bet this is the last time you'll let me go on a date without a full background check on the guy, huh, sir?"

Hotch's hold on your waist firmed just a fraction. "Maybe it's the last time I let you go on a date, period."

He was only half-joking.

"Not even with you?" You tilted your head to meet his gaze, drawing his jacket closer around you.

Hotch just simply gives you that look, the one that says a thousand words without a sound. He's telling you to tread lightly.

"Alright, I'll be good," you giggle, the tension easing from your shoulders. "Can you take me home now, please?"

He nods, "Yeah, let's get you home."

And then he leads you out, thinking to himself that the next person to take you out will be him, but that's for him to know and you to find out later.

taglist: @hotchhner @khxna

[catssluvr]

𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒊𝒏𝒊𝒕𝒊𝒂𝒍, aaron hotchner

aaron hotchner x fem!reader (906 words)

in which you get a necklace with aaron’s initial and he’s absolutely whipped for you <3

warnings: none, clingy hotch :)

`✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹

One of your hands holds the generous amount of shopping bags, the other moves to unlock the door. You open it slowly, in case Jack's already asleep. It's just after dinner time but after all the plans Aaron and him had for today, you know he's probably fast asleep in his bed by now.

"Aaron?" You call out gently as you take off your shoes, immediately hearing his footsteps approaching. He appears seconds later, towel draped over his shoulder from doing the dishes.

"Hey, honey. How was shopping with the girls?" He asks with a small smile, leaning over to peck your lips before taking the bags from you and setting them down on the coffee table.

"Pretty good, got everything i needed to get. I also bought Jack a shirt." In your defence, it had a picture of his latest cartoon obsession. How could you resist it?

"You didn't have to." He takes a step towards you and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear.

"I disagree." You retort, though you know he doesn't mind you buying thing for Jack. He's not your own, but he's your boy nevertheless. "Is he asleep?"

"Yeah, just put him to bed." Aaron moves to hold your face, leaving kisses all over you forehead. Barely getting to see you on his weekend off feels like some kind of torture and he has plans to not leave your side until Monday.

"Hm, can i go give him a goodnight kiss? Wanna leave his new shirt there so he wakes up to a surprise." You smile eagerly, chuckling at his false annoyed groan.

"Sure, hun. I'll finish the dishes and meet you upstairs." He answers, giving your back a soft tap as you rush to pick up the bag and run upstairs.

You pad into Jack's bedroom, kneeling besides his bed to kiss his forehead gently. Setting the bag at the end of his bed, you leave the room as silently as you came in.

You head to the bedroom that by now is just as yours as it's Hotch's. Gathering one of his shirts before entering the bathroom to get ready for bed.

When you come out, you're met with the sight of Aaron in only a shirt and boxers. Sitting against the headboard of the bed as he waits for you.

"How was your day?" You move under the covers to get comfortable while he starts listing all the activities him and Jack did today.

His hands move to massage your sore legs and you can't help but smile at his thoughtfulness. But they come to a stop once his gaze falls on the gold necklace peaking out from your shirt. He hooks a finger around it, pulling it out from it's hiding place.

Aaron eyes you curiously as it is now completely visible, a small 'A' adorning the middle of the necklace.

"What's this?" He asks, the answer quite evident but he can't get himself to believe it. He looks at you lovingly, brown eyes contrasting with yellow light and making your heart race.

"Oh, i saw it at store and it was too pretty not to get. Besides, you're a part of me and i wanted people to know it." You answer almost sheepishly, fingers playing with the fabric of his shirt. "It's also waterproof so i never have to take it off."

Aaron swears his heart might jump out of his chest. He knows you love him, he just didn't know it was this loudly. He hopes you never stop doing it.

He wonders what the best reaction to this would be, but he can't get himself to think about it too much before he's tugging you closer. Lips pressing against yours in a gentle kiss.

"I'll get one with yours." He mumbles a bit too seriously and you can't help but laugh.

"You don't wear necklaces, Aaron." You hold his face gently, making sure he knows you appreciate the suggestion anyway. You don't need him to get one too, you're content like this.

Aaron hums with a thoughtful expression, "I'll get it engraved on my watch then." He insists and you have to hold back another laugh at the way he raises his eyebrows trying to persuade you.

"Aaron." You try to sound stern but it's prove quite impossible when he kisses your cheek over and over again.

"How about on my handkerchief?"

"Please don't. We'll be looking like an old married couple." You tease with an affectionate smile.

"We could be." His answer is way more sweet than you expected it to be, heat rushing to your cheeks. He smiles at that and pulls you impossibly closer.

"Are you proposing, Hotchner?" You tease further, though your heart is beating wildly in your chest. He's way too nice.

"You think lowly of me." He plays along, his own smile never leaving his face.

Silence falls over you two for a moment and you take advantage of it to lay your head against his chest, relaxing at the sound of his heart beating against your ear.

"Thank you, seriously." Aaron mutters with a gentle squeeze on your shoulder and kiss against your hair.

"Don't bother." Your words come out a bit slurred, sleep starting to evade you. "Love you."

"I love you." He pulls the covers up to your shoulders. He makes note to start looking for rings before his own eyes fall shut.

`✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹

love you,

cat 🤍

[luveline]

I would like to say that this is NOT a smut request(unless of course you want it to be but it does not matter to me), but I’d love to see hotch finding out his sister and Spencer are not just an innocent couple because I know that would be so so so funny and awkward and I’m a sucker for awkward Spencer

Aaron wants you to be happy. More than anything, he wants you to have all the things in life he himself has been lucky to experience. A well paying job that he likes, a wife, a child. He wants you to be fulfilled, even in parts of life he’d prefer you didn’t have at all. 

“Remember that?” 

He wrinkles his nose. Spencer’s leaning over you, a hand encroaching the inside of your thigh, and Aaron isn’t that kind of brother but he sort of is; he feels a mixture of horror, mild disgust, and anger at the sight. He remembers you’re a grown up and so is Spencer before he can voice these emotions. 

You’re laughing. “Remember what, Spencer? Your dire inability to make a hickey?” 

“I’m not giving you a hickey!” Spencer whispers severely. “What is with you and biting? I don’t wanna bite you, and especially not where you wanted it.” 

“Everyone gives hickeys, Spencer.” 

“Please don’t say anything else. I don’t wanna know a single word’s about who’s been doing what to you.” 

“Just before,” you say. “Spencer, it’s just a kiss. And you like them, don’t you?” 

Your laugh turns to panicked giggling as Spencer squeezes your thigh. 

It’s sort of nice. If you weren’t his sister, Hotch might say it was romantic, or at the least, earnestly human. But you are his sister, and this is ridiculous, you knew he was coming over. 

He clears his throat loudly and opens the door. 

You, to your credit, look immediately embarrassed, and Spencer —honestly, he looks like he’s going to throw up, careful as he climbs off of you but rough the moment you’re no longer touching. 

“Hotch!” Spencer says, “I–”

“You knew I was coming,” Aaron says. 

You check your watch. The breath you let out is steam. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t looking at the time.” 

“I see.” 

“This is embarrassing.” 

You stand up. When you pull your t-shirt back down, Aaron wonders if he might be better off transferring Spencer to a foreign department. But then you give Aaron one of your I’m so sorry please don’t be mad looks and he decides to let it go. You weren’t even kissing, just talking about them as you play-fought or whatever it was. If anything, Spencer was being gentlemanly. 

Well, perhaps he shouldn’t go that far. “Come on, then. This car won’t pick itself up.” 

Spencer can barely look at him as he stands. “Uh, thanks again, Hotch. For taking us.” 

“I think this one falls under older brother duties, Reid.” 

“Okay. Sorry.” 

He takes a long breath. “You should be.” 

You jab Aaron in the arm, “Stop.” 

“What?” he asks, failing to hide his smirk. 

“You know what, stop being mean. Remember that time I walked in on you and Haley in the hot tub at–”

“Enough. Do you want to go get this car or not?” 

[irndad]

won't you be my sunshine-a.h.

a/n: runner!hotch x sunshine!reader !! sooooo fluffy, first hotch fic of mine so be gentle with me! lots of pining and happy end <3 happy to continue with these two in an au!

Aaron Hotchner is not a particularly emotive man. 

This is a skill he has honed, a cherished quality that was not born of luck or of natural ability, but a skill that he has honed down to a fine tip point. He needs to be, in this job. It’s cost him things, of course, but for the most part, Aaron is happy with his choices. He takes a firm line with people he works with, and does not always let up in his personal life.

The only time this sometimes causes a hitch, is in his romantic life.

Which isn’t to say that he has one. 

There is a woman who reads in the park every morning. Aaron affectionately thinks of this bench as her bench, as it is marked by wisterias and hyacinths on either end of it. It’s something of a ritual, after his runs, that they talk. 

It’s fun. He doesn’t have a lot of space for fun. He’d collapsed on the bench one day after siphoning his anger at a particular case into a difficult run. He’d crashed onto the bench, sweaty and exhausted and hadn’t even seen her there. Which is a bit impressive, as she’s hard to miss the sight of. It is also in equal measure embarrassing. It’s not every day you collapse in front of a gorgeous woman, disturbing her from what is likely a lovely afternoon in the park.

That’s how it started, anyway. She doesn’t run, so each break is punctuated by her company. He’s actually not sure if they’re flirting. He’s not very good at that- the last time he has to he was 17 and so full of unearned confidence, he lucked into a partnership. 

Now, he’s a bit older and a lot more scarred. She’s younger than him, not by much. She laughs with her whole chest at his dry, glib humor- and this is something Aaron had forgotten. The joy of a beautiful, wonderful woman’s company beside you. 

He feels a little out of place next to her. Romance is not something he does. Ever thought he’d do again, really. That’s not to say that this is romance. Their romance is almost entirely hypothetical. He thinks of her at work, which is a monumental development in and of itself. 

“So, how was the paperwork? I know you’ve been taking a little more on since your colleague had a baby. It’s so kind of you to do it.” She asks him on a beautiful August morning. 

He fights off a blush that she remembers what he’s done for JJ. He’s not big on mentioning his own good deeds. Aaron believes that this would cancel it out. Still, her praise is a warm balm to the exhaustion that plagues him. It’s hedonistic, the way he wants her to say more about him. He wonders absentmindedly if she knew everything about him that’s hard to love, she’d still paint him with such a light and warm glance. She’s bright enough, he’s tempted to tell her everything about him just because she asks. 

“It was…alright. My team is excellent. I’m lucky to work with people like them, it makes the process better. I couldn’t ask for more.”

She giggles a little at this, and there’s that roar of affection. 

He feels a sense of ease around her, one that is suspicious for him. He tries not to romanticize, but this connection is hard not to. She’s beautiful- this is obvious to anyone who meets her, a simple truth of her. But Aaron is trained to notice things little factors that show the truth of someone. 

He likes to watch her- it’s a pleasant thing, getting to be in her presence. It’s a little addicting, the way she looks at him. It makes him feel like all of the things he knows to be true of himself- his relative failures, the closed-off nature of his demeanor- are things that not only can be overlooked, but don’t seem to be in her line of sight at all. It’s an honor, to have her doe eyes rake over the sight of him, to meet him with gentle conversation. 

He tries not to notice that she is gorgeous. Aaron has been around beautiful women, of course- this is not something that should surprise him. But there’s something effervescent about her, something that his him wondering if it’s possible that she might feel the same way about him. He knows that he used to be a more attractive man, but now. Well, he’s a bit bruised, both metaphorically and physically. 

It feels odd to even think of this happening. She’s just got a warm, sweet tone and he replays what it’s like when she greets him. She smiles her brilliant grin and sometimes hugs him. It’s embarrassing how much he likes the feeling of it- soft curves against hard muscle and scarred skin. She always smells wonderful, and he wonders how nice it would be to have more of this. 

“I like your new shirt, by the way.” She smiles at him, and his heart jumps. It feels juvenile, but- she’s wearing a new lipstick, it seems. Her beautiful pout looks awfully tempting. 

“I like the lip color,” he tries to compliment back amenably, but that doesn’t stick. Instead, it comes out too earnest. He’s hyper aware of the fact that she’s right by him. She flushes, and Aaron feels a surge of pride. 

“Thank you,” she says, voice softer and flattered, and isn’t that a pretty sound? He’d love to do that for her, make her feel seen, make her feel like she’s as beautiful as she is, “I thought you might like it.”

It’s her directiveness that breaks the seal, he supposes looking back. Because she wore the lipstick for him. That’s just about the only thing it can mean, and he is struck with a particularly sensory fantasy of what it would be like to slot his mouth against hers- he gets the feeling it might be worth it even if he gets the color on his mouth. 

He’s a gentleman, though, he decides after a decidedly ungentlemanly amount of time spend staring at the gorgeous curve of her lips. 

“Would you want to get dinner with me?” He hears himself say it before he’s processed it, and then it’s out into the world. His heart is hammering and he’s blaming on the run, when god, it’s absolutely about how breathtaking she looks, the sunlight reflecting off her hair like a halo. When she beams back at him, she looks particularly angelic. 

It’s then, she leans over and kisses him on the cheek. 

“I thought you’d never ask.”

(Months later, when she is sitting on his kitchen counter and he is standing between her legs, gazing down at her with unabated fondness because he is entitled to that, he reflects on this moment and thinks god, how lucky am I, that I ran past that bench?) 

[tinyluvs]

imagine dating spencer and you come to visit or something and make him so distracted that he literally can’t info dump on something and the rest of the team is just shocked

yes yes, a hundred times yes 🤭 thank you so much!

catching a glimpse of yourself in the elevator mirror was the last thing you needed right now. you were covered in paint, your dungarees showing up every coloured streak and hand print against the light denim. you're sure there's paint in your hair but you don't have time to dwell on it, you're late

you'd got stressed, painting your boyfriends apartment on your own, lost track of time and then didn't have the time to change before running out of the apartment, just about managing to remember to grab yours and spencer's lunch on the way

"i'm so sorry i'm late," you sigh and frown as you rush through the bullpen to the collection of desks you're oh so familiar with, "please excuse the state of me,"

spencer turns at the sound of your voice, "hi sweetheart," he hums, looking up at you just as you dip to kiss him quickly before pushing the bag of food onto his lap

"hey," you smile softly at your boyfriend before turning to his colleagues, "hey guys, how are we all?" you ask, getting a mixed bunch of replies back

"how's painting?" derek laughs, looking at your appearance and the state of your clothes

you slide onto spencer's desk, pulling your legs up to sit cross legged, "standing six feet up a ladder trying to hold a tray of paint and a brush is hard, i've nearly fallen off twice," you huff,

spencer hands you the sandwich he knows is yours and then seemingly looks at you properly for the first time since you've been there, "hey," he says, almost breathlessly

"hello?" you question, head tilting slightly, "you've already said hi," you say, looking at emily and jj who just snicker and shrug their shoulders but spencer doesn't reply, "oh before i forget!"

your boyfriend watches you carefully as you produce a piece of paper from the tiny pocket on the front of your dungarees, flapping it around to unfold it, your other hand busy clutching your food

"the living room is next, i need to know how much paint to buy," you explain, handing the paper to him, "the cans are one litre or five litres, i can't figure it out"

truth be told you hadn't bothered to try and work it out, knowing spencer would be able to reel off the answer like it's nothing, naturally, he knew the exact measurements of every wall in his house

the boy stares up at you blankly, big brown eyes soft and sparkly. your cheeks heat up under his gaze, your eyebrows raising slightly, "spence?" you nudge him with your knee

he jumps ever so slightly, his head shaking a bit, "hmm?" he asks before only just registering you've handed him something, his eyes scan over it, "oh!" he blushes, turning his chair to face his desk

"what colour are you doing the living room?" jj asks while she stabs at her salad like it's offending her. you'd consulted the girls with all of the decorating developments.

"a light brown i think, we have so much to hang on the walls," you pause to swallow, "so something neutral," you finish with a slight nod

a door opening to your side grabs your attention, aaron coming out of his office with his lunch. he comes down into the bullpen, sitting on the edge of emily's desk, "the paint fighting back?" he asks you, slight smile creeping over his face

you roll your eyes at him, playfully, while the other laugh at your expense, "very funny but i don't see any of you offering to help"

penelope scoffs, "actually, i did" and she was right, however her idea of getting wine drunk and decorating had been quickly shut down by spencer, the only input he's actually offered up in the whole process

giggling, you turn back to your boyfriend who's been far too quiet, "boy wonder?" you say gently, pushing your fingers through his hair, "got an answer for me?"

usually he would have an answer within seconds, his minutes of silence making you frown, he turns to you with the same frown painted across his face, "i don't know," he says

people around you gasp, loudly too, "what do you mean, you don't know?" emily almost chokes on her lunch, sitting forward to gawp at the boy

"i do not know how much paint we need" he confirms

derek scrambles, pulling his phone out of his pocket, "say it again, i need record of this moment" he pleads while garcia smacks him

"well there's a first," david says, wandering over after hearing spencer say i don't know for possibly the first time, ever

your boy stares at the paper in his hand and then up at you, confused, "i have to go and work it out, excuse me" he says, rushed, as he stands and takes off towards circle table room

after a moment of shocked silence you turn to the team who are all staring directly at you, "i'll go check on him, i wonder what's wrong?" you say to no one in particular as you hop off of the desk

"i think i know," jj sing songs and the others hum in agreement as you hop up the stairs and along the walkway into the room.

when you get into the room spencer is stood in front of the biggest whiteboard you've possibly ever seen, marker in hand though the board is still empty of his handwriting

"spence? angel?" you say quietly, staring at his back as he starts to write the measurements of the walls in his living room, "everything alright?"

he hums, not turning to look at you as he continues to work through the problem, "yeah, fine, just can't think properly when you're around," he admits, "not when you look like that," he turns slightly to look at you

"oh, do you want me to leave?" you're sad, its obvious in your voice. nervously you start fiddling with the sleeves of your sweatshirt

your boyfriend gasps, "no, no, honey that's not what i meant!" he says, holding his arm out. you slide into the space, head resting on his shoulder, "you're so beautiful and i love you so much, so so much, my brain just switches off when you’re around"

"really?" you giggle, looking up at him. he hums and nods his head, a light blush rushes up his neck before taking over his cheeks, "i love you too,"

he's taller than you, forcing you onto your tip toes to kiss him, not caring when someone, emily, whoops from the bullpen. gentle hands squeeze at your waist, while you hold his face with one hand, the other resting on his shoulder

"three litres," spencer mumbles against your mouth, you pull away with a sight hum, forgetting what you'd asked of him, "you need three but it's cheaper to just buy five and have left over, now come back" he huffs, his arm wrapping tighter around you to pull you back in for another kiss

thanks for reading! remember to like! reblog! and comment! i’ll give you a smooch if you do, ily!! send prompts to my ask box!

❥ spencer reid masterlist !!

[ssahotchnerr]

HI HONEY!! I have a fic request! Based on Aaron and his love for calling the reader sweet girl/his sweet girl. Where that’s his favorite nickname for her and she loves is sm and he loves it sm AND THEYRE JUST IN LOVE. I think that would be so cute!

endearments

i'm putting a (slightly) drunk aaron take on this 🤭 cw; fem!reader, mentions of drinking, soft drunk!aaron, vague suggestion, a lot of fluff <3

You had been on the brink of dozing off, but had fought against your heavy eyelids until Aaron returned home safely. It had been guys night out; aka Dave dragging him to some top-shelf fancy bar, or whatever establishment the David Rossi enjoyed to frequent.

The slower than normal pace echoed from down the hallway - locking the door, putting his coat away, a quick check on Jack; his usual night rounds. Finally he made his way into your shared bedroom, dropping soundly onto the bed beside you with a heavy exhale. His aim, however, a bit off - he landed nearly on top of you.

You could smell the small aroma of bourbon on his breath. He always drank just enough to be tipsy, smart and conscious of avoiding a brutal hangover, or an alert tending to.

"My sweet girl."

His voice was heavenly deep, softer and smoother in its inebriated manner. It paralleled his actions: drunk Aaron meant clingy Aaron. His immediate tight hold solidified such.

"Hey," You adjusted yourself, laying more so on your side, facing him. Your voice was laced with your drowsiness; tone relaxed, content, making Aaron wonder why he didn't just stay home with you all night. "Have fun?"

"Yeah, it was nice." Your hand cupped his cheek momentarily, moving towards the nape of his neck. His glassy eyes admired you.

"Dave find any new wives?"

Aaron snorted gently, "Not this time."

You hummed in response, fingers running through the back of his hair. You switched between brushing through the short strands, and gently scratching his scalp. Aaron could've groaned at the feeling (he may have, he honestly couldn't recall if he did.) "Poor wing-manning on your end, then."

"Always next time." His head dropped into your neck, immediately pressing a gentle kiss into your skin. Then another, and another. His words were muffled when he spoke, "I missed you though, sweet girl. Wished you were with me the whole time."

You immediately flushed. While Aaron supplied you with multiple terms of endearment, this was without a doubt your favorite. It simply made you feel loved within its purest state. Adored.

Whereas Aaron loved the way it rolled off his tongue. It fit, just like the way his hand fit perfectly into yours, or the way your body molded perfectly into his - just like now. Not only that, he loved your reaction - the pet name turned you into a flustered, shy mess within seconds.

But now, in his drunken state, he wasn't saying so to fluster you, but it was the natural affection you caused him to possess, only elevated. His words rushed out effortlessly, freely. More insistent.

"You're blushing."

You scoffed lightly, all in amusement. "How do you know?"

"Because you're my sweet girl." His words slurred slightly, flowing together. If you didn't know any better, he was also falling asleep. He leaned up to kiss your lips, before his head dropped hastily back down onto your chest. "I know what I'm saying.

"You're drunk. Do you really?" You teased, your eyes narrowing with a small smile on your face.

"How dare you question otherwise."

You laughed softly, sitting up from your lying position, causing Aaron to whine as he slid off, breaking contact. "Let's get you out of these clothes."

Despite the shadows on half his face, half illuminated by the glow of the lap, you could see his lips tugging into a mischievous smirk.

"Wipe that look off your face Hotchner."

He allowed it to linger for just a playful moment longer, before his facial features relaxed, allowing you to pull off his clothes. You tossed them onto the ground carelessly - they could be dealt with in the morning. You tossed him yet another lighthearted glare at the second smirk that followed when you reached his belt buckle.

As tempting as it was, now wasn't the time.

In just his boxers and tee, his arm wrapped around your middle, pulling you as close as he could possibly get you. His face, right back into the crook of your neck. "My sweet girl."

His repetitive words left him in a sigh, quiet enough you wouldn't have known he mumbled them if it weren't him speaking directly into your skin, or for them vibrating into you.

You wiggled your hand out from his hold, draping it over his forearm and lazily tracing your fingertips along the veins his arms possessed.

"I love it, you know." You mumbled into the darkness, scooting back against him, burying your head into your pillow. Confirming the proximity, you almost couldn't be any closer. "Being yours."

He was fading fast, but still awake and aware enough to respond, "Can't imagine anything else."

[luvvyouforever]

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."

[mymindisneverhere]

I can’t lie I’m enjoying writing these. 🙃 lowkey wish it was me

warnings: 18+, SMUT, edging, dirty talk, oral sex, fingering.

Summary: Aaron is having a get together at his home with his colleagues and his wife has had an attitude with him all day… he ends up fixing it tho.

30 Whole Days

He marched up the stairs and into the bedroom searching for her. His breathing was heavy, not from exhaustion but from rage. This was it, she had pushed him to the limit with her most recent emotional outburst. He understood how sensitive she was and that at times her emotions could get the best of her but he never thought she’d use this moment to embarrass him in front of his people.

Her attitude was far out of control and he didn’t know if he were to blame or if this was all on her. She had been short with him all day. Half assed answers, avoiding kisses and walking away when he’d reach for a hug. He couldn’t believe 30 days had done this to her, and had caused her to become so… bratty.

Attempting to lighten her mood, he had asked her to bring him and the guys another round of tequila shots. He knew his wife’s favorite thing to do was serve him, not only because he’d asked but because it was her love language, so he figured it wouldn’t be an issue.

She waited a few beats to respond then flashed a fake over exaggerated smile to him before heading to the bar that sat right outside on the back patio. She was over him at this moment. She was pissed, frustrated, angry and now after 30 days of holding back her emotions, she exploded.

She grabbed the bottle of tequila and took a few gulps of the warm liquor before storming back into the living room where the guests sat. They all laughed and sipped on their beverages as she walked directly to him, never taking her eyes off of him.

“Pour your own damn shots!” She stated through gritted teeth before slamming the expensive bottle onto the coffee table cracking the glass that held drinks and coasters.

The room went completely silent as they watched her walk away stomping up the stairs and slamming the door a few seconds later.

”We should get going, I think we may have overstayed our welcome.” Jamal, his colleague said, looking over at him with a worried stare. “I’ll see you later man.” Everyone stood and shook hands before departing all at a once.

Once the large horseshoe driveway was empty he immediately turned and shot up the stairs to the owners suite. She had officially lost her damn mind.

“Veronica!” He yelled, in a tone that demanded her presence right away. His voice roared throughout the whole house, there was no way she didn’t hear him. When she failed to appear in front of him, he knew she was purposely testing his patience. He walked into their adjoining bathroom to find her at the vanity casually fixing her hair and makeup.

“Have you lost your fucking mind? I have a house full of guests and you decide to embarrass me?” He asked standing in the doorway eyeing her reflection in the mirror.

“I didn’t embarrass you like I could have.” She shot back, sending a look of anger right back to him.

He paused for a few seconds before letting out a deep breath and nodding his head. “Alright, if this is what you wanna do, it’s fine with me.”

”Fine.” She responded.

As much as he loved his wife, he hated her stubborn attitude. Her need to prove a point, her desire to be right all the time, to be the winner of some game that only she’s aware of. Usually he would be the one to fold simply because he knew his wife and she’d thrown fits like this in the past to get what she wanted but tonight she had taken it too far. He decided that for the first time in the 4 years they’d been married, she would have to swallow her pride to get what she wanted.

He walked out of the bathroom and made his way to the walk in closet. He began smirking to himself wondering how long it would take for her to do the one thing that comes rare to her, beg.

He undid his tie first and removed his dress shirt right after. He kept his white wife beater on along with his dress slacks and dress shoes. After placing his tie and shirt in their designated areas, he left the bedroom and made his way downstairs to the study, making sure to close the bedroom door behind him.

She sat for a few minutes in confusion. He knew what she wanted and by now he’d be giving her just that but something was off about tonight. She got up from the vanity and went into the bedroom looking around for her husband. He wasn’t there.

She went into the closet to see if he’d be there deciding on an outfit for morning brunch with the family but he wasn’t there either.

“He really just left me in this room by myself.” She whispered to herself in shock. She knew he hadn’t left the house because the security system would have alerted her.

She looked over at the clock on the nightstand that read 9:40 p.m. in digital white font. He was going to make her beg for it but she refused to give in, not after he made her wait for 30 days. He owed HER and he was going to be the one to give in, not the other way around.

So she decided to turn on the tv and watch reruns of her favorite reality shows until he walked through the bedroom door, shirt off and dick swinging.

Two long hours had gone by and he still hadn’t made his way back to their bedroom. She couldn’t believe he’d actually decided to sleep in one of the guest bedrooms. I mean yeah she had thrown a tantrum and it may have been a bit much but he started it. How could he not expect her to react this way after going cold turkey for so long.

“I’m over this shit.” She threw the comforter off of her body and jumped down from their tall king size bed. She walked down the hall to the guest bedroom closest to the owner's suite, only to find the bedroom empty. “So now he’s playing hide and seek, how childish.” She mumbled to herself.

She made her way to the opposite end of the hall to the second guest room to find it empty just like the one before. She tightened her satin robe out of pure frustration and trotted down the stairs. She was about to make her way to the living room when she saw a light coming from under the double doors of the study.

“So he’s working while I’m around this bitch playing cat and mouse.” She said, rolling her eyes.

She opened the doors to the study and marched right over to him, locking eyes with her husband. He looked up at her, meeting her gaze, awaiting an explanation. The two had a standoff for a few seconds but the tension in the room made it feel like hours. She was waiting for him to give in, not knowing that he had no plans to do so.

“You got something you want to say to me?” He asked in a low calm tone, never taking his eyes off of hers. He knew what he was doing. He was going to get her riled up until she really snapped. When her patience ran thin, her mouth became lethal.

”You’re not funny Aaron.” She spat leaning over the large desk that separated the two.

He continued staring at her. This time bringing a glass of Cognac to his lips.

“You owe me!” She hissed, leaning further onto the desk causing her robe to slightly slip open revealing her breasts.

He sat, remaining silent.

“It’s been 30 days, stop playing with me!” She warned, pointing her finger in his face.

He finished his Cognac before placing the glass down, his eyes still never leaving hers.

“Tell me what you want.” He commanded.

She smacked her teeth. “You know exactly wh-“ She started but was interrupted.

“You throw a tantrum in a room full of people embarrassing both me and you but now you’re too scared to tell me what you want from me?” He questioned. One thing he knew for sure about his wife was that she was far from scared. He was pushing her buttons on purpose.

“I’m not scared.” She shot back.

He stood up from his chair and slowly made his way to her side of the desk. She turned around to meet his eyes, they had yet to break this intense stare down. He stood in front of her planting his hands on the desk, right by her sides.

Their faces were so close she could smell the Cognac on his breath and that made her clit throb. She loved when he’d had a few drinks, the night would always end with her cries of pleasure. But she wasn’t so sure about this night, her tantrum had really pissed him off and he was really standing his ground.

“So say it.” He said, his voice deep and impatient.

Her breath caught in her throat at the sudden command. Aaron was usually very gentle with her. He’d treat her like she was fragile, like she was a priceless piece of art that should be handled with great care.

This Aaron was a bit dark, not in a scary way but in a way that made her regret her decision she’d made hours before. She wanted a reaction out of him but she didn’t expect this one.

‘Say it.” He repeated, this time through gritted teeth.

“I want you to fuck me.” She whispered.

“You were loud a few minutes ago, why you whispering now?” He questioned. “Say it, louder.”

She hesitated for a second, looking down at his lips. They were so soft and full, she wanted them wrapped around her clit.

“I want you to eat me til I cum and then fuck me, right here on your desk.” She said in a normal tone.

He smirked at her response simply because she truly thought she was the one calling the shots in this moment.

He used his knee to part her legs and wrapped one hand around her neck, causing her head to fall back. He snatched the belt on her robe making the thin fabric to fly open. He placed wet kisses down her neck to her shoulder before licking back up to her ear.

“You enjoy embarrassing me?” He spoke into her ear causing her to inhale sharply from the warmth of his breath.

“I wasn’t trying to.” She breathed.

He ran the tips of his fingers across her nipple, still nibbling on her ear. He knew tending to her sensitive spots at once would drive her crazy. He played with her left nipple, enjoying the feeling of its hardness in between his thumb and index finger.

“Then what were you trying to do?” His voice remained low and calm in her ear.

She was in so much bliss she couldn’t think straight. He hadn’t even fucked her yet and she was already feeling her first orgasm coming. Her first orgasm in 30 days.

Aaron had decided that they should hold out on sex for a month. It wasn’t due to any mishaps in their marriage, he just wanted to build some anticipation.

He had married a woman with a high libido and with him being the first man to ever make her orgasm, she was demanding sex from him damn near everyday. They would get breaks during that time of the month but even then she still wanted more.

”I don’t know.” She barely managed. Her body was feeling so many things at once, things she hadn’t felt in a while that all she could manage to say was “I don’t know.”

She hissed from pain as he pinched her sensitive nipples and bit her ear. He wasn’t pleased with her answer.

“I was mad at you.” She admitted , “I was just pissed but I’m not anymore.”

He gently brought her face up to meet his before saying “Well I am.”

He kissed her passionately, not leaving an ounce of emotion behind. He was animalistic. He had never been an aggressive man but tonight he decided to take his anger out on his wife, the one who had caused it. He bit her bottom lip slightly before pulling back and forcing her back to lay flat on the desk.

He wrapped his arms under her thick thighs pulling her hips to the edge of the desk. He placed kisses and bite marks on her inner thighs, the bites causing her to moan in pain and pleasure. He came face to face with her pussy, placing kisses around her lips to tease her, one of the things she hated.

She rolled her hips in anticipation hoping that one of his kisses would land right on her clit. He tightened his grip on her thighs making it hard for her to move from his hold.

“Baby please.” She begged.

He smiled to himself before placing his tongue in between her lips. He licked slowly from her entrance all the way up to her clit, making sure his tongue hit every inch of her pussy. When he got to her clit he carefully rolled his tongue in circular motions, sucking it ever so often. He didn’t want her to come anytime soon so he thought he’d enjoy edging her.

“Ooh yes!” She moaned, placing her hand on his head. This was her way of telling him he was doing a damn good job.

“Yes daddy right there.” She moaned, indicating that her orgasm was near. Right when she could feel it build in her stomach, he’d slow down, making her come back down from ten. He done this a few times and she was becoming frustrated but that's exactly what he wanted.

“After what you did, you think I’d give it to you that early?” He asked, planting kisses up her body. He licked and sucked on her nipples one at a time. He carefully pushed two fingers into her pussy while still focused on her breasts. He pumped his fingers in and out of her, making sure to hit her G-Spot, sending her back up the orgasm ladder.

“Oooooh fuck!” She cried out. “Like that baby, just like that.” Her eyes rolled to the back of her head as she prepared to send her wetness all over his fingers.

He felt her pussy tighten around his fingers and he slowed down, stroking in and out of her at a snail's place.

“Oh my God.” She moaned. “Why are you doing this to me?” She cried out in pure frustration.

He let out a deep chuckle before pulling his fingers out and placing them in her mouth. She sucked them, moaning at the taste of her on his hands. He undid his pants with his free hand, dropping his underwear in a swift motion. She was so into sucking her juices off of his fingers, she couldn’t brace herself for the dick she hadn’t had in a month.

He slid inside of her, giving her a quick and hard thrust causing her to let out a loud moan. He paused for a few seconds, taking in the tightness of her wet pussy. It had been so long since he’d been inside her, they both needed to adjust.

“Shit.” He managed.

He pulled out of her, slapping the head of his dick onto her throbbing clit. He needed a moment to prepare himself for this ride. If he was going to give her the punishment she deserved, he'd have to last long enough to make it worth his while.

He pushed inside of her slowly, admiring the way her eyes rolled into her head. He loved the faces she made when he fucked her, she was so fucking pretty.

He lifted both of her legs up resting them on his shoulders. He held onto her full hips as he thrusted in and out of her slowly. She frowned from pleasure, lust written all over her face.

“That dick feels so fucking good.” She moaned, her eyes shut tight.

“Look at me.” He demanded.

Her eyes fluttered open landing right on his. As soon as they locked eyes he picked up the pace. He was testing her, he knew that if he quickened the strokes she'd struggle to keep her eyes open.

Just as he thought, her eyes closed and when her eyes closed he slowed down.

”Okay baby, I get it.” She moaned in a pleading tone.

“Close your eyes again and I’ll stop.” He said, looking down at her.

She fixed her eyes on him again, her eyes low and lust filled.

He picked up the pace again, rolling his hips into hers making sure to hit her spot. He wasn’t going to let her cum until she begged him.

He was fucking her into oblivion. There’s was no way he expected her to keep her eyes locked on him when he was fucking her like they would never see each other again.

“I’m sorry daddy, I swear I’m sorry.” She cried out, her eyes beginning to roll again.

“Open!” He warned.

“Please baby.” She cried again.

”Please what?” He asked, never missing a beat. He could see in her face he was hitting the right spot. It was only a matter of time before she gave him what he wanted. He bent down, bringing his face to hers, still stroking her pussy.

“I wanna cum.” She begged.

He sped up the pace staring directly into her eyes.

“Please I wanna cum.”

“Let it go baby.” He said, giving her the okay to release her treasures onto him.

“Fuck yes!” She screamed out in pure ecstasy.

He watched as her body jerked from the orgasm it was experiencing, the way her pussy increased in wetness damn near sent him over the edge but he wasn’t done with her just yet.

“That’s right baby, get all that shit.” He said into her ear, placing kisses on her neck and cheek while she came down.

She moaned, still trying to catch her breath and relax her body underneath him.

After a few more seconds, pulled out and walked backwards until he found one of the large chairs in his study.

“Come here.” He demanded, his eyes still never leaving her. He sat down, placing his arms on the rests of the chair as he watched his wife struggle to get across the room.

“My legs are a little sore.” She whined as she walked to him.

“Come. Here.” He repeated impatiently.

Finally crossing the room, she stood directly in front of him and dropped her robe.

“Sit on this dick.”

She climbed onto him, her coffee colored skin tainted in sweat, her large breasts decorated with nipple rings that complimented her large dark brown areolas, she was a sight to see. She positioned herself right above his dick and sat down slowly, staring down at her husband.

She rolled her hips into him as she looked for pleasure in his stare. All she could find was lust and a hint of anger. She didn’t know what to expect from him, he was actually fed up with her tonight.

She rode him anyway, deciding that she’d take this moment to be selfish and get her pleasures regardless of the stern look on his face. She closed her eyes and dropped her head back as she held onto him, her hands on the back of his neck for support.

“Mmmmm.” She moaned in enjoyment, her hips rolling at a steady pace as she felt the wetness from her pussy spread to her inner thighs.

He sat back and watched his wife take control. He loved that she wasn’t afraid to take full control to reach her orgasm. He appreciated the fact that she was a sensual woman and proud of it.

But he was the one calling the shots tonight. He snaked both of his hands up her body reaching for her neck, gripping her throat.

“Yes daddy.” She moaned, still caught up in her own pleasure.

Without warning he began thrusting his hips into hers, making her eyes open in surprise. He had let her have a few minutes to come down from the last climax but it was time to remind her who was really running the show.

“Yes, fuck me baby.” She cried out. She held onto his wrists as he fucked her. Her cries became louder as he continuously hit her spot with every single stroke. She looked down at him again as he brought her face to his, still stroking in and out her pussy.

“You like making me mad don’t you?”

“No.” She replied out of breath.

“You wanna embarrass me again?” He asked, his lips touching hers.

“No Daddy.” She cried, as she felt her climax coming.

The way he was fucking her, the way he was talking to her had unlocked another level of sensual satisfaction. The hold he had on her neck, the way he caressed his thumbs against her lips, his deep sultry tone of voice and spicy smell of liquor on his breath was a combination that would send another orgasm through her body.

“You cum when I tell you to.” He barked through his teeth, daring her to climax.

“I can’t hold it anymore.” She cried, a small tear of ecstasy running down her face. She came harder than the first time.

“Yes!” She screamed out, unashamed and completely out of body. Her pussy pulsated and slightly stinging from pain due to his size. He let the tear run down her face as the rest of her emotions ran down his legs. She squeezed her eyes shut as her body responded to yet another orgasm.

“I knew you’d beg me for it.” He smirked with his cocky ass attitude.

”Fuck you.” She whimpered, taking in every moment of her peak.

”I know, baby.” He said, soothing her after ruining her. He caressed her cheek as he watched her come down from yet another orgasm. He had to admit to himself that this tantrum she had thrown earlier had unlocked a different beast inside of him. He kinda liked it.

“You okay?” He asked in a calm tone, he could never fully get rid of the gentle side of him.

She nodded her head slowly then finally collapsed onto his chest still struggling to catch her breath.

“Please don’t make me wait that long again.” She said in between breaths.

“I won’t.” He kissed the top of her head and the two laid together until night became dawn.

Please excuse any mistakes! 🩵

(Y’all ate that last one up so I thought why not write another one. Thank y’all! 🥹)

[hotchscoffeecup]

from across the bar

summary: an observation here and a sarcastic retort there is a sure fire way to catch agent hotchner’s attention at the hotel bar. after sharing a drink, he invites you to his hotel room where he gives it you just the way you ask for it: rough.

tags: light bondage, minor self-degradation, hand sex, oral sex, p in v sex, ass slapping, rough sex

pairing: aaron hotchner x fem!reader

rating: m, mdni

word count: 4.2k

Goosebumps bristle across your skin; the sharp bite of winter’s wind whipping against your cheeks and tossing your hair about your face. You fold your arms across your chest, tucking your hands beneath your biceps and thinking you ought to have worn a thicker coat. The thin suede Calvin Klein duster you’re wearing flutters about your ankles as the doorman tips his head in greeting and pulls the door wide. Heat rushes out to greet you and you smile in thanks as you cross through the threshold.

Friday night at The Ritz-Carlton is as busy as any bar or restaurant in DC. Men and women dressed in exorbitantly priced suits and dresses mill about, laughing and cavorting over drinks; standing at cocktail tables or seated at the bar or sleek leather seated areas interspersed throughout the modern space. Recess lighting creates a dim ambience that gives Hollister a run for its money. Your lips twitch and you have to fight to school your facial expression. The opulence is unnecessary, but you roll your shoulders back and situate yourself at the bar anyway, tossing your hair over your shoulder as you do so.

“Something to drink?” a bartender asks, placing a drink menu in front of you.

You smile politely and push the menu away. “A riesling, please.”

“Riesling? That’s awfully sweet, isn’t it?”

Your brow arches in response to the deep tenor rumbling a few seats down from you. You spare a glance in his direction and note the way in which he swirls the scotch in his hand. You’re half convinced that no one actually likes scotch; that it’s more about men establishing dominance around other men while they all pretend to enjoy a drink that tastes like paint thinner.

He is quite handsome though; from the strong set of his jaw to the dark slash of his brow, everything about him exudes leadership and power. A lawyer, perhaps. His suit is tailored to fit his lean frame, an expensive watch peeking out from beneath the cuff of his dress shirt.

You thank the bartender as they place a long stemmed glass in front of you. You take a long slow sip, enjoying the crisp white wine.

“Careful, big shot” you warn, not looking in his direction. “Sweetness often masks the taste of poison. You ought to know,” you say, inclining your chin toward the glass in his hand.

He chuckles wryly and sips his whiskey, “Scotch is an acquired taste.”

You roll your eyes and check your phone, noting the lack of text notifications or any sign of a missed call and slip it back into your coat pocket.

“Not the message you were expecting?” he asks and he seems genuinely curious.

“It’s the lack thereof,” you grumble and take another sip of wine. Five minutes late is one thing, fifteen is a different matter altogether without any attempt to reach out.

“Stood up on a Friday night,” the man arches his brow and blows out a slow breath. “That’s rough.”

“I was not stood up!” you counter defensively. You take a quick breath and actually turn to face him. Your heart stills momentarily as you take in the amused look in his dark brown eyes and the smirk tugging at his lips. Quickly coming back down to Earth, you blink several times and cross one leg over the other.

You feel his eyes level on you and you struggle to come up with some quippy retort. As he sips his whiskey, you can’t help but notice how strong his hands look; his wide palms and long fingers dwarfing the glass in his hand. For a split second you wonder what it would feel like to have those fingers wrapped around your throat or tangled in your hair.

“Wedding ring,” you almost blurt out.

His brow furrows and you point to his left hand, indicating the tan line on his fourth finger. His hand flexes around the cup before he sighs. “Divorced.”

“Ah,” you say, taking another sip of your wine. “So, that’s why you’re drinking alone on a Friday night?”

“I’m not alone,” he replies coolly, arching a brow as he regards you.

His keen stare forces a rush of heat to flush to your cheeks. A smirk tugs at his lips in response to the obvious scarlett trailing across your face and neck.

Taking a deep breath, you finish your glass of wine, stand, and shuffle down to occupy the seat beside him, your high heeled boots clacking against the tiled floor. With a newly emboldened confidence, you place your hand flat against his thigh, boosting yourself up onto the barstool as you level your gaze on him from beneath curled lashes.

His eyes widen slightly, but you see a spark of a challenge flare to life inside them. “What’s your name?” he asks.

You reach for his tie, gently tugging on it. You watch his Adam’s apple bob up and down as he swallows. “Forget my name,” you say coolly. “You clearly came out tonight looking to meet someone and it looks like my plans have changed.”

“I have a suite on the 7th floor,” he says.

You offer him a wicked smile, “Then what are we still doing here?”

•

As the elevator doors pings, signaling its arrival in the lobby, the man extends an arm, holding them open for you to enter first.

“A gentleman too,” you remark as you slide past him letting your body brush against despite the ample room to avoid doing so. The heady scent of his cologne sticks to you and you wonder if you’ll be smelling it on your skin here soon.

He steps inside and presses the button for the seventh floor. As the elevator doors begin to close, someone rushes toward them, trying to get on but the man doesn’t move to hold them. “Take the next one,” he says as they seal shut.

He pounces the second they do, one hand curled around your waist and the other tangled in your hair; your combined body weight thudding against the paneled wall of the elevator. His lips crash against yours, and your lips instantly part for him; groaning into his open mouth. This only seems to drive him further and you feel his erection pressed against your thigh.

“Eager, are we?” you breathe against his lips before nipping at the shell of his ear.

His left hand curves around your ass to cup it in his large hand as his other curls around the back of your neck, using his thumb to angle your chin up towards him. “You have no idea,” he says, voice husky as he moves to suckle the hollow of your throat.

You fist the lapels of his suit jacket, pulling him closer to you. You moan against his mouth eliciting a deeper one from him. As the elevator dings, signaling your arrival at the seventh floor, you peel yourself off of him and slip through the doors right as they open leaving him panting and aching for more.

Giggling to yourself, you don’t wait for him as you head toward his room.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he calls after you seductively. With a breathy laugh he adds, “You don’t even know which room it is.”

“Oh, don’t I?” you tease. Without turning back, you raise your hand in the air, his key card tucked between two fingers. “You really outta keep better track of your belongings.”

The sound of him slapping his pockets and grumbling curses brings a cheeky grin to your lips. You slap the key against the keypad and buzz inside the hotel room, slamming the door shut just before he reaches you.

A dark laugh rumbles from beyond the door and you can’t help the smile that tugs at your lips. Undoing the belt at your waist, you shrug out of your coat and toss it over the nearby sofa. He knocks on the door and in a voice just above a whisper he starts to detail what he’s going to do to you once you let him inside. Your black high waisted trousers accentuate the curve of your waist, the black lacy corset teddy you’re wearing underneath pushes your breasts up and out.

As you move to open the door, you swipe his badge from your coat pocket, the other item you’d managed to swipe from his suit jacket.

He opens his mouth to chastise you, but instead he sucks his bottom lip into his mouth as his eyes drop to the swell of your breast. He leans into his arm that’s stretched up above him where he holds onto the doorframe.

Pouting, you fold your hands behind your back and rock back and forth on your heels. “I’m sorry for locking you out,” you say coyly. “Tell me though,” you say, leaning forward, looping your arms around his neck. “Do you have a pair of handcuffs somewhere on you to go with this badge, Agent Hotchner?”

Pulling your one hand free from around his neck, you flip open the leather bifold and dangle his own photo in front of his steely gaze.

His lips press together in a firm line as he looks from his badge to you, though the smile doesn’t slip from your mouth. He pushes his weight against the door frame and peers over both shoulders before taking his forearm and pushing it into your chest, forcing your back against the doorway and knocking the air from your lungs. Your chest heaves and your abdomen clenches as you bite your lip, eyes flicking from his mouth to his eyes. He dips his chin so his lips are level with your ear.

“I don’t need my cuffs to keep you at my mercy,” he growls.

The breath in your lungs stills and you feel your pulse increase, thrumming inside your neck. Wrapping his tie around your knuckles, you gently tug him towards you. “Then give it to me, rough, G-man.”

He wastes no time. Releasing the door frame, he drops it and loops it around your waist before yanking you against his muscular frame. He walks you into the room, kicking the door shut behind him and the door automatically locks.

His grip on your hips is bruising and you love the ache of his hands on you as he guides you to the bed. His lips seek yours out and when they find them, you slip your tongue between his lips. You can still taste the scotch on him. As you fold your hands into his hair, you gently suck on his lower lip, grazing your teeth along it and savoring the moan that elicits from him.

When your ass touches the edge of the bed, he pushes his pelvis against your hip, his erection digging into your thigh. You yearn to feel that hard length inside your pussy, but you know it won’t be that easy. You’ve played too many games with him tonight to win him over that easily. You lower your weight onto the bed and wrap your legs around his waist, drawing him closer.

“So?” you ask, offering a flirtatious glance whilst skirting the toe of your boot up the length of his leg. “What’s the verdict on those cuffs, Agent?”

His fingers curl around your bare shoulders and toy with the straps of your teddy. “I’m not carrying them tonight,” he says after a while. He moves to loosen his tie and your belly clenches as you wonder what he plans to do with it.

“Hands out,” he orders, and the authority in his voice is so natural you immediately feel compelled to listen.

He slips his tie from around his neck and winds it around your wrists, tying them together snugly, but not so much to cut off feeling to them. He grips the loose end and aggressively tugs you towards him so that your chest is flush with his.

You splay your fingers out against his chest and try to reach for the collar of his shirt to start working on the buttons when he yanks your wrists away.

“Not so fast,” he murmurs. He releases his hold on your makeshift restraints and shifts both hands under your ass. With a grunt, he picks you and shifts your weight so that you’re sat fully on the bed.

“Lay down,” he commands. “Arms above your head.”

As you slowly do as he asks, your lips curl into a wicked smile. “Yes sir, Mr. Hotchner.”

He emits a low groan as his name tumbles from your mouth and you know his cock is straining in his pants. Again, you try to tease him through his trousers with the toe of your boot, but his reflexes are too quick and his hand snaps out to catch your ankle. He arches one dark brow at you before focusing his attention on unzipping each one at a relentlessly slow pace. Your pussy throbs in anticipation of what’s to come and you bite your lip as he straddles your waist, one knee on the bed as his other foot remains on the floor. His eyes are fixed on yours as his fingers make quick work of the buttons of your pants. As his fingers curl around the hem and begin to wind them down your waist and hips, you can’t help but reach up and try to run your fingers through his hair.

Immediately, he snatches your wrist from midair and slams it into the mattress. You gasp and try not to giggle, excited by this show of brute force.

“Don’t move.” His voice is low. “If you can’t follow instructions, there will be consequences.”

You push your lower lip forward, “And I hate to suffer those at your big,” you enunciate each word, “strong, hands.”

Hotchner keeps his obsidian eyes, sharp as knives, daggered on you for a second longer, before releasing your wrists and sliding your pants down and off your legs.

“Now this,” he says, trailing a finger down the lace up front of the corset styled teddy. “Makes accessing want I know you so desperately want me to touch a little difficult, doesn’t it?”

“Maybe, you should check again Mr. Hotchner,” you reply with a flutter of lashes.

He regards you curiously, but there’s a dark amusement glinting in the depths of his irises. His hand slinks around your calf, and that alone elicits goosebumps up and down the length of exposed skin. As his hand trails up the inside of your thighs, your muscles quake as you allow your legs to fall open for him.

His lips part as he discovers the missing fabric between your legs. His brow curves as he regards you with keen interest. “One way or another you knew you were getting fucked tonight.”

“One can never be too prepared, can they?”

“No,” he purrs, leaning down to kiss your inner thigh. You squirm as he presses his hand flat against your belly, fingers splayed out as he slowly drags them down toward your center.

“Now let’s see just how ready you are, shall we?.” He sinks one long finger inside you and you groan. “So wet,” he murmurs, slowly sinking another finger inside of you. You feel the moisture pooling, how quickly the torturously slow rhythm of his fingers heightens your arousal. When his thumb presses against your clit and begins moving in slow circles, your mouth falls open in a silent moan.

“Oh, Aaron,” you say, dragging out his name. Your hands fumble to grip onto the sheets as he continues to pump his fingers in and out of you, maneuvering his fingers each time to strike your g-spot in rhythm with the circular motion around your clit. The wet sounds of his hands wringing pleasure from your body alongside him murmuring filthy things is too much. You need more.

“Please,” you say, arching your back against the mattress in an attempt to draw his fingers in deeper. “I need more.” You hook a leg around his waist and pull him against the edge of the bed, not missing the way his throat strains and eyes roll back at that thought. He increases his speed and without warning withdraws his fingers. You immediately miss their presence, but then suppress a scream as he dives face first into your pussy. His tongue delves into your center, devouring your pleasure. His slick tongue finds your clit, swirling and sucking on the sensitive nub and your pleasure centers are firing on all cylinders.

You dig your elbows into the mattress and push your hips into the air, pressing yourself against his mouth and he moans against your pussy. You feel the deep tremble reverberate against your walls and cry out as it becomes too much to bear in the best way possible.

He grips your hips and you kick you legs up around his neck, drawing him in as if he could get any closer to you. You clench the sheets above your head and cry out, his name on your lips as pleasure builds in your abdomen, pulsing through you all the way to your core. He shifts then, and before you can wonder what he’s doing, he takes a breath and sucks your clit between his teeth. You hiss at the unfamiliar sensation and swear you see stars when his fingers plunge deep into your pussy.

You come instantly, your orgsam surging through you like electricity. You feel it through every inch of your body, from the tips of your toes to the ends of your tousled hair. The aftershocks are still coursing through you as Hotchner tightens his hold on your hips and with a grunt of effort, flips you onto your stomach and yanks you closer to the edge of the bed. The sound of a belt unfastening and zipper coming down is all the preparation you receive before he slaps your ass and the hard length of his cock slams into you. You cry out with ultimate ecstasy as he fills you.

Turning your face into the mattress, you gasp and grunt with each forceful thrust. Your pussy clenches around his thick girth. The slap of flesh on flesh is all that can be heard as he pumps himself in and out. He releases a sharp breath and winds his fingers into your hair, tugging on it. You cry out and moan as you turn to look at him over your shoulder, finding great satisfaction when you watch him melt under your sultry smokey eyed look.

“Come on, baby,” you urge and you see his restraint crack. “Take what you want.”

His brow pinches and unfurrows as his grip starts to falter.

“Use me,” you push, delighting in the way his lips press together as he fights to hold on to his release.

You press your ass higher into the air, allowing him to plunge deeper into your core as his thrusts become less controlled and his pace becomes erratic.

“You don’t,” you grunt and moan as he strikes your g-spot again and again, “even know my name.” You breathe out and groan as you turn over your shoulder once more. “Let me be your whore, Agent Hotchner.”

Hot, thick ropes of cum erupt from his cock into your pussy. He holds onto your hips so tightly, you know you’ll have bruises in the morning. You relish in his pleasure as much he relished in yours. When he stops shaking, he slowly lowers your hips onto the mattress and smooths his fingers over the tender flesh there.

Easing you on to your back, you feel his cum slip down your inner thighs as he clambers over you and tenderly kisses your face and neck. When his lips brush yours, you taste yourself on him.

You reach up and hands still bound, brush the hair from his forehead. He smiles as he reaches up and undoes the knot with one swift move. The tie instantly unravels and he casts it aside. You place your hands on either side of his face, thumb stroking the sharp curve of his jaw.

“Let me help get you cleaned up,” he says gently, eyes soft.

You nod, “I think I’d like that.”

He cradles you into his arms and carries you to the shower where he places you on the tile floor and cranks the water on. As steam begins to fill the room, he helps you out of your negligee. Without words, you turn and push his blazer off of his shoulders. You do the same with his dress shirt and let him kick out of his shoes and socks before curling your fingers around the hem of his pants and underwear and kneel to draw them down over his ankles.

He loops his arms around your waist as you stand and kisses you slowly as he guides you back into the walk-in shower. The warm water cascades over your skin, soothing your taut muscles. You close your eyes as he tilts your head back and smoothes your hair away from your face. He places feather light kisses along your jawline as he pumps body wash into his hand from the dispenser on the wall.

“How do you feel?” he asks as he lathers the soap between his hands and smoothes it over your shoulders.

You release a moan of a different sort as his fingers massage the soap into your neck and back. You turn around and lean against the wide plane of his chest as he curves his hands around to wash your breasts and stomach.

His voice is amused when he speaks. “That good, hmm?”

“Mmhmm,” you confirm.

He laughs softly in your ear before pressing a kiss to your temple. He continues to wash your body, treating each limb like a holy object the way he handles you with such delicacy and adoration. When he finishes with you, he washes himself quickly and exits the shower to retrieve two plush towels from beneath the sink. As you work to try yourself off, he fetches the robes provided to each guest from the closet in the main room.

You admire the softness of his stomach contrasted with the hard angles of his face and lean musculature of his arms and legs. He really is a beautiful man.

“Thank you, Agent.” You say with a wink as you take it from him.

He laughs. “You and titles. I thought we’d agreed on no names.”

“I said you didn’t need to know my name. I never said anything about yours. What can I say? I love a power play. After all, you must be used to that in your big, bad FBI office, hmm?”

He smiles and shakes his head. “Something like that.”

You continue to towel dry your hair and smile back at him. “I guess this game of ours has reached its end. I gotta say, I had a wonderful time.”

“It doesn’t have to end,” he says with a suggestive arch of his brow.

Tilting your head back and forth, you weigh your options. “How about this?” you say, taking a measured step toward him. His eyes widen, surprised by your sudden prowess. “You and me,” you say slowly and stand on your toes so you can purr directly into his ear, “drop the ruse, order room service, and watch a movie on Netflix?”

He pulls away, expression unreadable for a moment. You keep your eyes on him, waiting, and then smile when his posture visibly relaxes. “Honestly, that sounds great, babe, I’m exhausted.”

A grin pulls across your cheeks as you dash into the room and grab your purse. Returning to the bathroom, you reach deep into your bag and unzip the pocket in the inner lining. You fish out your wedding rings and place Aaron’s in his hand before slipping yours back onto your finger.

“The crotchless lingerie was a nice surprise,” he says as he adjust the simple gold band on his finger.

Your lips quirk into a grin, “Yeah, I thought you’d like that little surprise.”

He smiles and leans down to kiss you. “Seriously though, how’d I do?” he asks. “I’m not used to using my office persona around you. It’s a lot harder than I thought it’d be. With you, it’s so easy to leave work at the office and relax.”

“Well I certainly hope you don’t do that at the office.”

He chuckles. “You know what I mean!” He waves his hand absentmindedly. “The hardened exterior, the stern, hard voice, expressionless. Dominating. I’m never like that with you.”

“Naturally,” you tease, voice light. “I’m so full of fun and whimsy. It’s hard not to come back down to Earth from your Bureaucratic cloud of murder and mayhem when you’re with me.”

He loops his arms around you, hands flat against your back. “Five years of marriage and you still manage to keep me on my toes, more so than some of the men and women I’m paid to track down and put away.”

You pull back and look up at him. “You love the sex bucket list, be honest.”

He can’t fight the grin that tugs at his lips as he nods. “Role playing as two strangers that meet at random is definitely up there with the things we’ve done so far.”

“More fun than when we played naked Twister with the body paint?”

“Ooo, don’t make me choose.”

He dials room service, ordering plenty of food and desserts to refuel after your exciting adventure into role play and as you climb into the California king bed with him and snuggle against his chest, you silently thank whatever divine forces exist in the universe for every opportunity you get to spend with him like this; your lover, your husband, your everything.

[honeypiehotchner]

kiss her, you fool (Hotch x fem!Reader) -- one shot

Anyway I'm back in the fucking building again!!!! Listened to "Kiss Her You Fool" by Kids That Fly and had this one shot written in like an hour. The love for Aaron Hotchner never dies apparently

Summary: You're in the middle of spring cleaning when Aaron calls and says he forgot something at your place (he didn't).

Warnings: tooth-rotting fluff! I just wanted to write some romance

It’s the middle of the day and you’re in the middle of a cleaning frenzy when your phone rings for what looks like the third time. It’s Aaron.

“Hey! Sorry,” you laugh, grabbing the TV remote to pause your music, phone pressed to your ear with your shoulder. “I’m spring cleaning and clearly way too far in the zone. What’s up?”

“That’s okay,” you can hear him smiling as you readjust your phone in your hand. “Would it be alright if I stopped by? I think I left something there last night.”

You furrowed your brows, spinning around the living room. You definitely would’ve noticed if he left something here last night. You’ve practically turned your entire apartment upside down to clean it.

“Are you sure?” you ask, moving to lift the couch cushions for a third time. “What was it?”

“I’m not sure,” he says, which totally isn’t suspicious at all. “Can I just come look?”

“I mean,” you let out an awkward laugh. “I guess you can. I’ve been cleaning since this morning, though, so I think I would’ve spotted it, but—”

“I’ll be there in fifteen,” he says. “If that’s okay?”

You sigh, selfishly glad you’re getting to see him again, two days in a row. It feels like you’ve hit the jackpot. “Yeah, of course it’s okay.”

“Great, see you in a few.”

“See you,” you bite back your grin, ending the call. You turn the music back on, a little lower so you’ll hear him when he knocks.

You have no earthly idea what he could’ve forgotten. He had his phone and jacket in hand when he left. He never took his wallet or keys out of his jacket pockets, so they must’ve stayed there. Unless either of them fell out, but again, you feel like you would’ve noticed.

Whatever it is, he’ll either find it or realize it isn’t here. Regardless, you’re getting to see him again, so you’ll take it.

With his job, the days that you do see Aaron are typically one long day spent together here and there. Yesterday was an exception, a rare dinner mid-work week because he happened to be done at the office early and you were free, so obviously the opportunity was taken advantage of. It’s only been a few weeks of seeing one another, so you both take any chance you can get. 

Despite this, though, things have moved…slow. Slower than you expected because, to be frank, every guy you’ve been with has been quick and to the point. Not that you always minded that. Sometimes you wanted the same thing — quick, hot, heavy. But those days have since left you, and you went through a period of seeing no one, aside from one guy who left as soon as you said you were interested in moving slowly. 

It’s nothing against Aaron, but when he first introduced himself at your local coffee shop, you kind of assumed he’d be the same. It’s hard not to assume when everyone acted that way, and when the men who frequent said coffee shop don’t exactly have the best track record for being polite and respectful.

Aaron, though, took weeks to ask for your number, let alone to join your table one morning to sip his coffee — and even then, you offered him the seat; he didn’t invite himself. That alone was enough for you to agree to give him your number, and then to an official first date.

He kissed your cheek after the first date, your forehead after the second, and kept to those areas alone. You found yourself wondering if something was wrong with you somehow, but he wasn’t disinterested. Quite the opposite, actually, from how he held your hand and kept his arms around you, how he made sure you were safely inside your apartment before heading off, how he still texted when he arrived home to ask you if you were still safely inside.

Or when he had to cancel a date last minute, and sent flowers to your apartment in lieu of his presence. He apologized over the phone, but the flowers had an apology note attached too. And another apology when he arrived at your door four days later, fresh off the plane, with a real explanation of his job and why he didn’t have time to explain it all to you before he left.

Your friends think it’s a little crazy, that it’s been almost a month of dating and there hasn’t been a single kiss — “On the cheek doesn’t count!” they argue. You think it does. If anything, you’re just happy there’s no pressure.

The underlying anxiety is there, sure, of what if it never happens? But you can’t bring yourself to entertain the thought. Mainly because you want to kiss him so bad, you’re practically going to leap onto him one of these days.

You’re mid-dance when a knock sounds on your door and you jump, having forgotten Aaron said he would be here soon. You turn the music down as you head for the door, unlocking it to let him in.

He stands there in his usual dark suit, sans tie this time so the top buttons are undone, bouquet of flowers in hand and dumb smile on his face.

“What are these for?” you ask when he hands them to you. 

He steps inside and shuts the door, pausing to press a kiss to your forehead. “Because I wanted to.”

You give him a look, cheeks feeling warm. “If you keep doing this ‘because you want to,’ I’m gonna need to open a flower truck,” you joke, gesturing to the other vase of flowers sitting in your window. And there’s another in the bathroom. And one in your bedroom. 

“Just let me know what kind of truck you want,” he teases.

You press the flowers to your nose to hide your smile. “Oh, what did you forget? You’re welcome to look for it, but—”

He lets out a laugh, scratching the back of his neck. “Well, I might have lied.”

“I knew you were, you idiot,” you swat playfully at his arm. You turn to head into the kitchen in search of another vase. “I got off the phone and paced around like what did he possibly leave here? I figured maybe your wallet or something, but I definitely would’ve found it earlier. You should’ve seen the living room this morning — I had the couch on its side and the coffee table in the middle of the hallway—”

You’re in the middle of rambling, digging around under the sink for a vase, when Aaron pulls you up by your hand, spinning you to face him.

“—it was a disaster trying to vacuum. Remind me never to do that unless you’re over here to lift all of it. I think I nearly—”

He’s smiling at you, and you don’t have a single moment to spare to register that he’s leaning in before his lips are on yours. 

You sigh into the kiss, pleasantly surprised to be interrupted in this way, and glad your hands are free so you can hold onto him. Maybe this is why it’s good he hadn’t kissed you yet — one second of it and you’re ready to collapse under the sweet weight of it all. His arms circle your waist to lift you up, and your arms circle his neck, keeping him close. As close as you’ve really wanted him.

When you finally break for air, it’s only to press your foreheads against one another’s, not wanting to move too far.

“Well,” you laugh.

“Technically,” he says, pausing to peck your nose, “that’s what I forgot last night.”

You roll your eyes. “You are so stupid.”

“Mm, just because it makes you smile,” he says, kissing your lips again, and again. “What are you doing tonight?”

“Ideally,” you pause, letting him kiss you again, “ordering dinner in and making out with my boyfriend until the sun rises. You?”

“You know, I was thinking about taking someone special out to dinner,” he pauses, pulling you closer again, “and then kissing her until she tells me to stop.”

“That could be forever, for all you know.”

“That’s fine with me.”

You grin and he kisses you again, pausing to say, “Sorry, I can’t help myself—”

“Trust me,” you move even closer, your eyelashes practically touching his cheeks when you blink, “you don’t need to apologize.”

He responds by kissing you some more, and more, until he’s lifting you into his arms and placing you on the kitchen counter. 

“Aaron!” you squeal, nearly crushing the bouquet. “Let me move the flowers at least!”

“I’ll buy you another,” he says, just a whisper away from kissing you again. 

“You know—” You have to pause in between words as he presses his lips to yours. “—I still have—cleaning—Aaron,” you giggle. “I need to put my apartment back together.”

“Do you?” he asks, relenting only slightly, his fingertips pressing into your lower back, keeping you against him. “Do you need help?”

“I do actually,” you chuckle, running your fingers through his hair. “The couch isn’t back where it was.”

He smirked. “I noticed.”

You tug on his hair slightly to tease him for that jab, only it lights a new spark behind his eyes. Your cheeks grow even warmer. “No, seriously,” you say. “It’ll stress me out if it’s not back in its spot, but then…”

He nods, kissing your lips. “Then we’ll get ready for dinner.”

“And then come back here for a movie?”

“We’ll see how much of the movie we actually pay attention to,” he smirks, eyes traveling all over your face. 

The urge to let him ravish you right now against the kitchen counter is so strong it nearly makes you lightheaded. But soon Aaron is helping you down, pressing another kiss to your forehead. 

“Did you get to vacuum under the couch all the way?”

“…kind of.”

“Come on,” he chuckles, pulling on your hand, leading you back into the living room. “Call me next time?”

“If I get kissed like that during spring cleaning then I’m doing it every day,” you reply, mostly joking. Kind of. “Fuck I forgot the vase for the flowers—”

Aaron kisses you to interrupt you once again. “One thing at a time,” he says.

The kissing doesn’t stop, and you never do get to vacuum under the couch. It can wait.

[atlabeth]

too sweet

pairing: aaron hotchner x fem!reader

summary: a night out makes hotch realize a few too many things.

a/n: me??? writing for criminal minds again out of nowhere??? what is going on. and i do not have an answer i was just in a hotch mood bc he's fine asf and i finally have the confidence to write for him here we are lol. hope u enjoy this short lil thing

wc: 2.4k

warning(s): alcohol consumption, a sexual joke or two, written in one go so might be a mess! aaron is all in his head but this is basically all fluff

Hotch can’t focus. 

Mostly because he can’t stop glancing over at you. Normally it’s not a problem—he’d lost count of how many times he’d distracted himself from mounds of paperwork by meeting your eyes through his office window, often accompanied by a smile that made even his heart beat a little faster—and especially now, it shouldn’t be a problem. 

You and Derek have had some kind of bet going on during the past few nights out—you didn’t believe he was as charming and suave as he claimed, and Morgan was all too happy to prove you wrong.

You bet that he couldn’t get at least five numbers every night, and come last Thursday, Morgan took the win at the end of the evening with a smile on his face. As punishment, the first round of their next night out was on you. 

And that’s nice, sure. Hotch is always thankful that his team can still joke around and have fun with each other despite everything they have to deal with each day. He hopes they keep the light in their eyes as long as possible, especially the younger ones. He’s fine with being the stick in the mud, the one who never smiles, the iron willed chief that scares local uniforms.

Hotch is not so fine with the way he feels right now. 

It’s a busy night at the bar, which is understandable. Hotch is sure half the precinct is out alongside them, celebrating the BAU finally solving the case that had torn them to shreds over the past week. You, Reid, and Garcia put the threads together an hour into scouring through evidence, and the unsub was cuffed before noon. 

Certainly something to celebrate—there’s a reason the whole team agreed to go out tonight and leave tomorrow. Even Rossi decided to join when he learned you would be buying, but he’s already abandoned them in favor of catching up with some old friends. Hotch even thinks they might have another round in their future because of their solve, courtesy of the local chief. They had a long night ahead of them. 

But you haven’t gotten the drinks yet, and Hotch wonders how long it’ll take even after you do. Because some officer is trying to talk you up, and you’re smiling and laughing along and giving him every bit of your attention. 

Hotch recognized him the moment he set eyes upon him, even in plain clothes. He’s some joke of an officer from the station, and he’s been trying to get your number—or even just get your attention—throughout their whole visit. Always sidling up to you during debriefs, specifically giving you any information or evidence he finds—Hotch has overheard him asking for your number more than once. 

Hotch has been so focused on the case he’s not even sure if you’ve rejected him or not, and the mere thought is enough to annoy him. If he wasn’t equally as sure of your ability to defend yourself and afraid of overstepping with you, he would have stepped in. 

But it makes sense. The officer is young and handsome, you’re young and pretty—not to mention you have a way of lighting up any room you step into. Hotch spent the whole first month of your employment wondering why you would want to do a job like this. He’s spent the rest of it thankful that you did. 

You’re sharp as a whip, naturally, but you’ve also done wonders for the team atmosphere. It’s hard to feel down with a smile like yours beaming his way. The job weighs you down like it does everyone, but you still manage to lift everyone’s spirits on the jet ride back before they jump into the next case. It’s impressive. 

It’s also trouble. You’ve been part of the BAU for almost two years now, and Hotch has spent just as much time tearing his eyes away from you as he has working. It’s wrong, and it’s wholly inappropriate in terms of your working relationship—he’s your boss, for god’s sake. 

But sometimes, Hotch will be beating himself up over one thing or another on a case, and you’ll plant yourself in his vicinity and refuse to leave until you’ve helped him work through it. If you ever tire of the FBI, he thinks you have a second calling as an elementary school teacher. 

Sometimes the hotel they’re staying at will have truly shitty coffee, worse than they’re used to at the BAU, and you’ll already be in the lobby with a tray full of the team’s orders. Hotch never recalls telling you his order—you just figured it out, and you remembered it. 

Sometimes his gaze will drift your way, and he’ll find you already staring at him. You look away just as quickly as he does, and it makes him wonder. 

Hotch has made a living off of studying the behavior of others. More often than not, he finds himself profiling his co-workers just out of instinct. His job is to know what others are thinking. 

But god. When it comes to you, Hotch doesn’t think he’s ever felt more unsure in his life. Especially when you look at him the same way he wants to for weeks, then act nothing but proper another day; when you fall asleep against his shoulder on the jet one night and entertain some desk jockey another night. 

It makes him feel like a highschooler again, trying to figure out if Haley really liked him or if she was just playing around, and it’s more embarrassing than it should be. Especially when he’s still dealing with the lingering emotions from the divorce. 

“Hotch.” JJ’s voice is enough to break him out of his trance, and he blinks as he turns to her. At least someone paid him the mercy to dispel his thoughts, even if only for a temporary time. 

“What?” 

“Did you hear a single word I said?” she asks, a slight smile curving on her lips. 

“Of course,” he responds. “The chief’s over there talking with the commissioner. He’s the same guy who made your life difficult the last time we were in Milwaukee.” 

JJ’s eyebrows shoot up, and she nods. “I didn’t think you were listening.” 

“I think he just got lucky,” Morgan cuts in, his gaze darting over to you momentarily. “I think you were too focused on our drinks.” 

Reid frowns. “I don’t think he was focused on the drinks. He’s—” 

“Just making sure they’re still coming,” Hotch interrupts, and he straightens his tie. Today really has been a long one—usually, he’s better at covering these things up. “And I wasn’t lucky. I was listening.” 

“Trust me,” Morgan says with a laugh, “I’m watchin’ her until I’ve got a glass in my hand. She’s not getting out of this after the way she bragged this whole month.” 

“The stupidest thing to make a bet on,” Prentiss remarks, “especially with you.” 

“She said she just wanted to prove you wrong,” Reid contributes. “She thinks you’re too cocky.” 

Morgan grins. “It’s not cocky if you can back it up.” 

Hotch’s attention goes back to you, and you’ve finally gotten their drinks. You’re loading them onto a tray like you’re the bartender yourself, and his brows crease. Maybe he should have gone up with you. 

“Do you think she needs help?” he asks. How obvious is too obvious? Why does it feel like his brain only works at half power whenever it comes to you? 

“She’ll be fine,” Prentiss says. “And if she needs it, that guy talking her up can help.” 

“Jason Rodriguez,” Reid remarks. “He hung around her the whole time we were trying to pinpoint a location, and he wasn’t any help, which makes sense because he's practically desk-bound at the precinct. I’m surprised she got any work done.” 

JJ chuckles. “I’m surprised he hasn’t given up yet. He’s been following her around all week, like some lost puppy.” 

Morgan shrugs. “I dunno. She seems pretty into him.” 

“I don’t think ex-frat boys are her type,” Prentiss says wryly. Hotch doesn’t think so either, but he doesn’t say anything. Contributing to this kind of conversation is certainly too obvious.  

“I doubt we’ll be back here for a while. She might as well.” Morgan smiled. “She probably needs a win after such an embarrassing loss.” 

Thankfully, before Hotch has to keep pretending not to care about this topic, you walk over carrying a tray of cocktails—and you’re alone. The subject of their previous conversation seems lost in the crowd, and he feels a dangerous amount of relief. 

“Are you all talking about me?” you drawl. 

“You know we are, sweetheart. Thought you were never gonna get here.” Morgan sits up, smiling at you. “What’d my win get us?” 

“Long Island Iced Teas,” you muse as you set the tray down. “Enjoy it, because I’m gonna be working some overtime to make up for all these.” 

Morgan grins as he takes his drink. “You should’ve never doubted my skills.” 

“I’m surprised you didn’t need any help,” Prentiss says. “You’ve done this before, huh?” 

“Bartended my way through college.” You slide into the booth next to Hotch, just a bit too close for a bit too long, and he hopes that no one can see his chest still for a moment. It’s impressive that he still hasn’t figured out how to lessen the effect you have on him. “I’ve probably got better hands than you, Morgan.” 

“Do we need to make another bet?” he asks. “Because I’d love to clean out your wallet.” 

“Maybe wait another month before you prey on any more poor, defenseless agents,” you croon, and Morgan laughs. 

He pivots the conversation away from you when you pick up your drink and take a sip, and you look at Hotch. Whenever your gaze is on him, you make him feel like he’s the only person in the room. He’s sure you never look at anyone else that way, but Hotch wonders how much of that is his mind trying to justify his imagination. 

“I’m surprised you agreed with this,” you say, mercifully interrupting his thoughts. “I thought you’d want us to go back tonight.” 

“You all earned a night out after the work you did,” Hotch says. He thinks about taking a drink, but he decides against it, at least for now. He can barely trust his sober mind. 

“You’ve earned it too,” you say. “We wouldn’t be anywhere without you, Hotch. You keep us all together.” 

He shakes his head. “I don’t think I ever would’ve connected the dots like you and Reid can with Garcia. I hate unsubs with secret codes.” 

“I’ve always liked puzzles,” you muse. “There’s nothin’ like it when it all finally clicks.” 

Hotch hums, and for a moment, he’s silent. Your gaze remains fully on him, and that might be why he has trouble thinking. It’s too easy to get lost in your eyes. 

“What did that guy say?” Hotch finally manages to ask, because he honestly can’t help it. Morgan’s points actually worried him a bit, and he wonders what that says about him. Ex-frat boy certainly isn’t your type, but someone forgettable for a one night stand isn’t the most absurd thing in the world. 

Your brows knit together as you drink some more. “What guy?”

“The officer you were talking with,” he says. “He seemed to like you.” 

He’d been flirting with you since the moment you stepped into the precinct, actually, desperate for your attention, but Hotch didn’t really want to say that. He’s sure you noticed either way, if the rest of the team did. 

“Oh. Him.” You shrug. “He’s nice, I guess. Definitely a looker. But he’s got nothing beneath that hair.” 

“Morgan’s surprised you didn’t bring him back,” Hotch says. He wonders if he’s pushing too much, and again, he feels like a highschooler testing the waters. Do you know what you do to him? What you reduce him to? 

You shrug as you take a sip. “If he knows what’s good for him, he knows he doesn’t have a chance. My attention’s on someone else.” 

Prentiss calls your name and you get drawn back into the middle of the team’s conversation, and thankfully, Hotch has a chance to digest your words—and the stunner of a smile you flash at him before you get pulled into their talk. 

His decision to not drink seems even wiser, now. Hotch has to loosen his tie, and he ignores Reid watching him. It’s futile trying to hide anything from Spencer Reid—the kid already knows everything. 

Again, it's dangerous how much satisfaction he gets from it—from knowing you never really paid that officer a second thought. You didn’t smile at him the way you smile at Hotch. You don’t smile at anyone the way you smile at Hotch. He thought he was imagining it at first, or that he was just a bit too stuck up, but it was the honest truth. You paid him special attention, and he couldn’t blame the warmth in his chest from the thought on any alcohol. 

He tunes back into the conversation just to hear Morgan demand you pay for his next drink. 

“You’re lucky I’m feeling generous,” you say. 

He puts a hand to his chest. “Generous? You’re just paying what you owe me.” 

You laugh and shake your head. “Pick your poison, pretty boy.” 

“How do you feel about tequila?” 

You make a noise of disgust and shake your head. “As long as I don’t have to drink it.” 

“You’re just paying, sweetheart.” Morgan’s eyes dart to Hotch, and he nods as he grins. “One for me and our fearless leader.” 

Hotch shakes his head. “Someone has to get us back to the hotel.” 

“That’s what cabs are for!” Prentiss exclaims. “Don’t be such a stick in the mud, Hotchner. You deserve to let a little loose.” 

“It takes most people an hour to process a drink,” Reid contributes, “so you’ll be fine before we leave if you want to drive.” 

“Come on, Hotch,” you say, and you nudge his shoulder. “You might as well—I’m paying.” 

“...Fine,” he says, and the whole team cheers. Even Reid smiles. 

“Y’know, you can smile tonight, Hotch,” you say with one of your own before you down the rest of your drink and stand up.

And one actually tugs at his lips. It feels a lot hotter in this bar with your eyes sparkling and you beaming right at him, and he fights the need to shed his jacket. Your grin somehow grows. 

“That’s what I came out to see,” you remark as you pick your wallet back up from the table. “I expect another when I get back, Hotch. There’s a lot to celebrate tonight.” 

Yeah, he thinks as he watches you go. There just might be. 

[mariasont]

I was wondering if you could write a Hotch oneshot smut. I was thinking like babysitter or even team member. And reader comes onto/flirts w Hotch and he doesn’t know how to act at first lol. Either way, I know it’ll slay (also no rush!)

p.s. Love your work dude 🫶

Negotiating with Mr. H - pt 1

pt 1, pt 2

A/N: I LOVE YOU! thank u 4 requesting angel face <3 i promise there will be a smutty part two ;) i just got so excited writing this i wanted to put it out b4 i went to bed lolol

‧₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧

pairings: aaron hotchner x fem!nanny!reader

warnings: suggestive flirting, suggested age gap (reader is in 20s, hotch is in 40s prob)

wc: 1.2k

As you curled up on the couch, your feet hidden under the warmth of your legs, a soft yawn escaped your lips. The room was silent save for the slow murmur of the television, which seemed to grow dimmer with each passing moment, fighting the inevitable pull of sleep that threatened to overtake your best intentions to stay awake.

Being the live-in nanny, you typically followed the soft patter of Jack's footsteps to bed, but tonight the clock ticked past and light in the living room remained defiantly on. Your gaze occasionally drifted to the empty hallway, the cushions of the couch bearing the imprint of your tension. The fabric pulled tight beneath your fingers, every creak of the front door causing your heart to skip a beat as you awaited the turn of the lock. 

You couldn't even explain what had gotten you so worked up. Maybe it was pent up frustration of living with a man that was so attractive, so powerful. Maybe it was the quiet intensity that lingered in his frown, or the way his suits seemed to be a second skin, tailored to perfection. And the beard--oh, that fleeting shadow across his jawline--gone way too soon.

You wanted him. Bad. You had an ache for something more than stolen glances and casual words. You weren't sure of how you would go about it, but you knew you needed to see him, to feel him. It was worse when each case that took him away seemed to stretch time, pulling at the seams of your patience. Every time he got back, you fought the urge to jump his bones. 

You weren't even sure how he felt about you. You knew he probably had hundreds of women, all vying for a glance, a smile, anything. And there you were, just the nanny, invisible even in plain sight. The thought of him sparing you even a second glance seemed impossible.

Your train of thought screeched to a halt at the click of the door's latch. Turning, you found Hotch's eyes, a drowsy grin gracing his features. A thrill of nerves shot through you as he quietly said your name. 

"Everything alright? You're up late," he observed, his voice a low timbre that filled the quiet room. He eased out of his jacket, movements unhurried, and placed his briefcase down by the door. He glanced at his watch. "And definitely past your bedtime."

A soft smile curled at the corners of your lips. "Did you just make a joke, Mr. Hotchner?"

The chuckle that followed was more of a breath than a sound, a sound almost foreign in the stillness of the hallway. He moved towards the kitchen. "Must be the lack of sleep," he offered, pausing to glance back at you.

The simple act of him loosening his tie held your gaze. His hand, reaching for the scotch, moved with an ease born of repetition. You may not have been a profiler, but you prided yourself on understanding the subtle tells of his body language. You knew that when he starred down the glass for a moment too long before drinking, the case had been particularly grueling, and when he set the bottle back with a contented sigh, it was the opposite.

Today he took that contented sigh.

The gentle interrogation in his eyes drew you from your daydreaming. The sudden heat that rose to your cheeks betrayed your momentary lapse in attention. "Sorry, what?"

"I asked how Jack was."

"Oh," you said with a small laugh. "He's been an angel, as always, not a single toe out of line."

His nod came with a sip of scotch. You mustered your courage and stood from the couch, the chill of the floor seeping into your bare feet as you walked towards him. "How was work?"

"It was... surprisingly manageable."

"Manageable, huh?" you teased, resting your elbows behind you on the island, meeting his gaze. "Well, I hope that means we'll be seeing more of you. It's been too quiet."

One brow arched in mild amusement. "I wouldn't count on it too much. That might just put you out of a job."

"Jobless, maybe. But it's worth the risk to see you unwind a bit more. I'll take my chances," you said, a playful challenge lacing your words as you stood a little straight, tiredness melting into a newfound alertness. "And between us, I suspect you'd be calling me back before lunchtime."

He paused, his gaze momentarily caught in the soft light that seemed to frame you. "I can't argue with that," he conceded with a soft chuckle. 

You were beautiful, undeniably so, and it wasn't just the kindness in your eyes or the gentle curve of your smile. It was the radiance you carried, a contrast to the shadows he had grown accustomed to. 

Your conversation, light and unexpectedly intimate, was a balm to the solitude that had become his norm. For a fleeting second, he allowed himself the luxury of imagining coming home to this--your lively chatter, your laughter--but he quickly quashed the thought. As much as he was drawn to you, he couldn't help but feel the gap between you--a gap carved by years and experiences that made him believe you belonged to a world far brighter than his own.

"So, I suppose this means it's time for me to negotiate a raise, or perhaps some extra perks, wouldn't you agree, Mr. Hotchner?" you suggested, edging closer with a pivot on your toes, eyes dancing over his form with undisguised interest. 

"Considering you keep this place running like clockwork, a raise doesn't sound unreasonable," he admitted, the clink of his glass punctuating the silence as he set it down, arms folding across his chest in a relaxed barricade. 

You moved within arm's reach. "Or, we could discuss a more... personal kind of bonus."

"A personal bonus?" Hotch repeated, his eyes narrowed, not in suspicion, but in dawning realization. The analytics part of his brain momentarily offline as he tried to reconcile your words with his own feelings. "I'm not sure that's...appropriate."

You took another step, almost toe-to-toe with him, your breath a tease on his skin. "Maybe not, but I think I've earned it, Mr. H. Don't you?"

"Yes, you've... certainly earned it," Hotch managed to say, clearing his throat, his eyes briefly losing focus as they drifted to your lips and back to your eyes. "You're very impressive at what you do."

With a boldness that felt natural, you reached up, toying with the knot of his tie. "I'm eager to impress in other ways too, Mr. Hotchner. Care to oversee?"

Hotch felt a sudden tightness in his chest, the air seemingly thinner, not able to focus on anything but the soft touch of your fingers against his tie. "I... yes," he said after you, the name he'd heard countless times before now igniting an unfamiliar fire within him. "Overseeing... seems necessary."

You offered him a smile, tender and guileless, your eyes shimmering in the kitchen light. "I'm glad you agree. We should definitely discuss the details. Goodnight, Mr. Hotchner."

Hotch remained motionless, his breath caught somewhere between a gasp and a sigh. The kitchen seemed somehow louder now, your words echoing in his ears, every sense attuned to your presence even as it faded. What just happened?

[hoe4hotchner]

I loved bakery owner reader x loyal customer hotch SO MUCH 😭😭😭

Can you please make one where the team finally meets her? Maybe on Penelope’s birthday since she is the most excited about the relationship 😅. Maybe he shows up at Dave’s house with reader by surprise

A sweet surprise, a warmer welcome | [A.H]

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x bakery owner fem!reader | WC: 0.8k | CW: it's fluff so none

String lights hung in the backyard, casting a warm glow over the patio, and the smell of grilling steaks, vegetables, and whatever vegetarian dish Penelope had brought along filled the air. Music played softly in the background, and laughter mixed with the hum of conversation.

But despite the cheerful atmosphere, the team couldn’t help but wonder about one thing: Hotch.

Ever since Penelope had found the picture of him with you the team had been curious about the woman who had brought some light into their usually reserved boss’s life. Penelope, in particular, was buzzing with excitement, though she had promised to let Hotch decide when to introduce his partner to the team - and hold her horses on looking into your background.

"Do you think he's coming?" Penelope whispered to Emily as they watched Morgan tend to the grill. “I mean, I don't expect him to bring her, but it would be the best birthday surprise.”

Emily smiled, taking a sip of her wine. “Who knows? He’s full of surprises lately.”

Meanwhile, Hotch parked his car in Rossi’s driveway, your hand resting in his as he turned off the engine. You had been nervous about meeting his team - they sounded like a close-knit group, full of strong personalities - but Hotch had assured you they would welcome you with open arms. Still, the nervous energy in your stomach was undeniable.

“You ready?” Hotch asked, his voice calm and reassuring as he turned to you, giving your hand a gentle squeeze.

You took a breath and smiled softly. “As ready as I probably can be.”

Hotch chuckled. “Don’t worry, they’re excited to meet you, especially Penelope.”

You laughed at that. “Penelope, your tech guru who figured out we were dating just from a picture? That Penelope?” You tried to recall the information he had told you about each member of the team.

He smiled. “That’s the one. She’s been asking about you ever since.”

The thought of the team being so eager to meet you made you feel more at ease. With a final glance at each other, Hotch led you to the front door, the faint sound of laughter and music drifting from the backyard. As he opened the door, you could hear what you assumed was Penelope’s voice, based on the information Hotch had told you, and the reality of the moment settled in.

Before stepping outside, Hotch paused, turning to you with a soft smile. “I’m happy that you wanted to come.”

Your heart fluttered at the sincerity in his words. “Me too.”

Together, you walked into the backyard, hand in hand. The conversation started to quiet as people noticed you arriving. It was JJ who spotted you first, her eyes widening as she nudged Will. “Guys, look.”

All heads turned in your direction, and for a moment, the team was silent, taking in the sight of Hotch with his arm around you. Penelope, however, couldn’t hold back her excitement for long.

“Oh. My. Gosh!” she squealed, practically bouncing with joy. “You brought her!”

Hotch smiled at her enthusiasm. “Surprise.”

She rushed forward, arms open as she enveloped you in a warm hug before you even had a chance to introduce yourself. “It’s so nice to finally meet you! We’ve all been waiting for this day!”

You returned the hug, smiling. “It’s nice to meet you too, Penelope. I’ve heard so much about everyone.”

Penelope pulled back, beaming, and gestured to the rest of the team. “This is Emily, Derek, JJ, and of course, you already know Rossi.”

Rossi walked over with a grin, wiping his hands on a towel. “Welcome. Hotch hasn’t said much, but we’ve been looking forward to this.”

You chuckled. “I’m just glad to finally meet all of you.”

The rest of the team gathered around, offering greetings and introductions. Morgan shook your hand with a grin. “So you’re the one who’s been making our boss a little less strict lately. Nice to meet you.”

You blushed slightly. “I just make the coffee and bread, really. He did the rest himself.”

Hotch smiled softly. “You do a lot more than that.”

Emily leaned in toward Penelope with a teasing smile. “Okay, you were right. Best birthday surprise ever.”

Penelope practically glowed with happiness. “I knew it! Hotch, you’ve been holding out on us, but I forgive you because she’s perfect.”

You laughed along with the group, feeling the warmth and acceptance from each of them. Hotch stayed close by, his hand still gently holding yours. He seemed more at ease, surrounded by his friends and with you by his side.

Rossi raised his glass, signaling for everyone to do the same. “To Penelope’s and to meeting the woman who’s made Hotch happier than we’ve seen him in a long time.”

The group cheered, glasses clinking together in celebration. As the night went on, you found yourself fitting seamlessly into their dynamic, sharing stories and laughter. Hotch remained close, always attentive, and though it was Penelope’s special day, it was clear that you were the true surprise that made the evening unforgettable.

[luveline]

hotch’s daughter and him looking thru baby n childhood pics n realizing just how much they missed angst (her missing out on having a present father n him missing out on raising her)

Aaron’s winded when he sees you that morning. You’re smiling, in sweatpants and a hoodie with a bag on your shoulder that promises an overnight stay, but what hits hardest is the way you light up when he opens the front door. He sees you coming through the window and can’t wait for you to knock. 

“Hey, honey, you’re early!” he says. 

“I know,” you say, stopping just a paving stone away, “but I got this magic jigsaw for Jack that I thought he’d like. Once you complete it you can move it around and create a new jigsaw in the middle.” You smile. “You look happy. Good breakfast?” 

“I’m happy to see you, that’s all.” 

You cross that last step. “Thanks, dad.” You bite your bottom lip, ever so slightly bashful. 

He literally couldn’t be happier. “Did you eat?” 

Aaron brings you inside. Jack is already awake and eating his second breakfast in a meandering picking by the TV. 

You love being a big sister. It’s all the more endearing. “Hey, babe. What are you upto?” you ask. 

Jack whirls and sends a couple of grapes flying. “Oh my gosh yes!” he says, to your laughter and Aaron’s disbelief. He races across the rug in a blur of blue pyjamas to wrap himself around your thighs, face pressed to your hip. “You’re here!” 

“We said Saturday sleepover, right?” 

You get down on your knees to hug him. Your arms around his back, your face to his, you aren’t as rough as you could be —how do sisters hug their brothers? Aaron doesn’t know. But you rub his back in a gentle up and down and lower your voice to say hello. “Hi, Jack. You’re happy to see me?” 

“I’m so happy.” 

“Me too, I’m so happy. I brought you something.” 

“A present?” Jack asks, leaning out of your arms. 

“Not really, it’s for me and you, but I brought you cookies too.” 

“Dad,” Jack says, “can we have some?” 

Aaron holds up a finger. One cookie is enough sugar for the morning. “We can have a couple more after dinner tonight, okay?” 

You take the cookies from your bag, a huge box of palm-sized cookies, chocolate chips shaped like stars, the best kind of indulgence from the bakery not far from here. Aaron catches a look at the inside of your bag, spying a slim white photo album against your weekly medication divider and the plastic wrapped jigsaw puzzle. 

“What’s the album?” he asks. 

“Oh.” You slide your thumb along the sticker that seals the cookies and crack them open for Jack to take his spoils. “They’re my baby photos.” 

He stills. “They are?” 

“And some of me growing up.” You tip your head at him and smile. A little shy, more happy. “I was thinking about Jack, how we both do that chokey laugh when we’re tired, and I wondered if we had any other similarities. And then I realised you’ve never actually seen any of my photos. Would you want to look at them?” 

“Please,” he says immediately. “Yes. I’d love to see them.” 

You lay the album out on the coffee table. Aaron sits beside you on the couch, and Jack sits on his feet, and together you look through your baby album one page at a time. At first, he’s quiet. He has no idea what to say. You are a beautiful kid, you’re perfect, little baby you with a pacifier on your tummy, or in the summer sun with mud on your little hands, wearing a pink dress with matching canvas shoes and a smile so wide he can see all your baby teeth, or sitting beside a fish tank with a party hat on. 

His favourite is a photograph of you that’s been printed oddly, more sepia than colour, where you look to be eight or nine years old. He can see everything in your adult face right there in ink, your smile, the trusting warmth in your eyes when you love the person it’s directed at. Maybe he’s full of himself, but he swears it’s his smile, and Jack’s smile. Hotchner through and through. 

“I wish I’d seen you in person,” he says quietly. “Just once.” 

You tease the photograph from the plastic sleeve and offer it to him. “Sorry.” 

He doesn’t want you to be sorry. Aaron takes the photograph and stares at it against his leg, your little face, your hands behind your back, your left knee wrapped in a bandage. “We missed out on so much,” he says softly. 

“I know.” 

He places the photo on the armrest, precious and needing a frame. You melt into his arm as he wraps it around your shoulder, and you let him kiss your temple, even if he doesn’t deserve to do it yet. He’s polite about it, he knows his sincerity might feel gratuitous to you —after all, he missed out on so much. But you don’t go rigid at his affection, you just breathe. 

“I would’ve loved to have seen it,” he says, too old for tears, and yet a warmth collects behind his eyes anyhow. He won’t cry, only the feeling is there and aching as you move back and give him a typical Hotchner smile. Like he’s being silly, and like you love him. 

“It’ll be okay,” you say, “you’ve got, what, a good ten years left? You can see my golden years.” 

He laughs suddenly. “Ten? How old do you think I am?” 

“You act like you’re nearing seventy.” 

“Oh, I do?” 

You roll your eyes and lean across the photo album for another cookie. “You do! I wish we didn’t have to wait so long to meet, but it’s not like I’m going anywhere. You won’t find me so charming in a few years, so don’t worry. Now, could you leave me and Jack alone for a bit? I’m trying to sneak him another cookie and you’re getting in the way.” 

Aaron hugs you whether you want him to or not, a tight squeeze that you always seem to enjoy, before doing as you’ve asked, promising to find the jigsaw board in the garage so you and Jack can start the newest one. 

“Did you miss him?” he hears Jack asks inexplicably. 

“Who, dad?” Aaron watches you from the door that leads into the garage. He can only see your hands from this angle, your left one landing on Jack’s shoulder for a small squeeze. “I missed him so much you couldn’t believe it.” 

“Thank you for the cookie.” 

“You’re welcome! I missed you too, you know? I have to make up for all my lost time being your big sister. Here, you can hide this one in your pocket, if you want. Just don’t forget it’s there.” 

[rainydayathogwarts]

Protective Aaron Hotchner with wife reader during their son, Jack soccer game. Fluff and maybe suggestive 👀 Thanks!! :))

0.7k words

The two chairs you laid out for you and Aaron stay empty as you make sure Jack is hydrated enough before running onto the field, pressing one last 'good luck' kiss to his temple. When he's on and the coach instructs the beginning of their warmup, you settle into the chair, stretching your legs in the sun, enjoying the warmth on your skin. The weather has just begun warming up with the seasonal change into spring, yet you still wear a stolen knit sweater from your husband's wardrobe. The whistle blows, signalling the start of the game. Leaning to the side, you reached for the iced drink on the floor beside you, but when you straightened back up, you found that someone had invaded your space. "Oh! Hello." You laughed in shock, eyes flickering between the broad-shouldered man in front of you and your son's game.

"Hey! Figured since Jack's playing, this chair will be empty for a bit." His hair was greying, and he sported a salt and pepper beard, a false look of security and trust in his eyes. Furrowing your eyebrows at him, you sipped your drink silently. His failed attempt at a joke had his shoulders slumping subtly with insecurity, though he tried re-engaging you by sitting down in your husband's chair without hesitation. You blinked a couple of times, taken aback by the man's audacity. Sure, he'd taken your husband's seat - red flag number one - but why did he know Jack's name when you had no idea who he was? Aaron had cursed you with his wariness. "Which one's your kid?" You questioned cautiously, observing carefully as he took a swing of his beer at the bright hour of ten in the morning. "Oh, Bryce over there. Let's go Bryce, good job buddy!!" He yelled out towards the game before disinterestedly turning back to face you. "I'm guessing you don't recognise me?" The nameless man started, leaning back in Aaron's chair, "I always see you here. It's either you or your boyfriend right? Mostly you though. I'm guessing he's not around often." He glanced away, his beer at his lips, a cocky smirk gracing his feature. He definitely thought he got you with that one.

Glimpsing down at the ring on your left hand with an incredulous expression, you held in a mocking laugh. Opening your mouth to retort, you were interrupted by someone else's words. "Husband. I'd thought anyone would be able to tell by the ring on her finger. And I hate to be that person man, but you're in my seat." Your head snapped towards your husband's deep, authoritative voice, a smile making it's way onto your features. "Aaron! You're early!" You jumped up, throwing your arms over Aaron's shoulder and pulling him towards you for a chaste kiss. Aaron returned your smile, letting his hands linger at your waist before turning his gaze to the ill-mannered man. You pretended not to notice his intimidating glare towards the man until he left, busying your gaze with the match happening in front of you.

When Aaron's hands slipped away from your waist, you turned your attention back to him, grinning when you saw him take his rightful place on the garden chair, rolling his shoulders back. You crouched down to retrieve his drink, staring at him happily when he thanked you and took a sip from it, snaking his hand in yours. "Thought you'd take longer." You mumbled, cocking your head to the side. "I just had to drop off some papers. Couldn't spend my day off away from you two." You hummed, eyes quickly finding Jack on the field, his short legs carrying him across the floor. Aaron let go of your hand, placing his on your thigh, and you turned towards him to press a kiss on his cheek before averting your gaze again.

Curiously scanning the parents around the field, one thing caught your eye. The inappropriate father was now joined by his child's mother, clad in a matching sports set and bearing a giant diamond on her ring finger. You wonder if she saw your interaction or if she, perhaps, was busying herself with another woman's husband.