#you get it. like I can’t stress enough how Little any of this has to do with any group’s amount of Talent. it’s solely advertisement and

[wallowslistener]

hotch smiling? never. ೨ৎ a. hotchner x reader

𐙚˚ aaron hotchner x fem!reader. fluff. 0.6k words.

✦ aaron has always been the definition of serious. even among the most stoic in the fbi, he’s known for his unwavering dedication to the job, rarely showing emotion or letting his guard down. he’s a leader, and leaders can’t afford to be distracted by the lighter things in life. smiling, laughing, those were luxuries, not necessities.

that’s why it was so strange when he met you.

it started out like any other case. you were brought in as a liaison for a local investigation, your expertise needed to help the bau crack a difficult profile. hotch appreciated your work ethic right away, how focused and meticulous you were, just like him. but there was something else, something he hadn’t noticed in a long time. the way you carried yourself, the lightheartedness you brought to the job, even when the weight of the cases was unbearable.

at first, he tried to keep his distance. he always did. it was easier that way. but somehow, without meaning to, you broke through.

one afternoon, while the team was poring over crime scene photos and victim profiles, you cracked a subtle joke about the chaos of the case files. it wasn’t even that funny, but it was enough to make spencer smile, which wasn’t an unusual sight. what was unusual was that hotch, sitting across from you, didn’t just smile, he chuckled. the room went silent for a beat, everyone’s heads snapping in his direction, including yours.

you looked at him, eyes wide with surprise. "did i... just make you laugh?"

hotch cleared his throat, instantly returning to his serious demeanor, but the damage was done. his face had softened in a way that none of them had seen in years.

"let’s get back to the case," he said, but you could see the faint trace of a smirk lingering at the corner of his mouth.

after that, things started to shift between you. whenever the stress of the job became overwhelming, you had a way of lightening the mood, just enough to remind him that there was life outside of the darkness they faced every day. he didn’t laugh often, old habits die hard, but he started to smile more around you. little things—your quick wit, your subtle gestures of support—made him feel something he hadn’t allowed himself to in a long time: happiness.

one night, after a long and particularly grueling case, the team was ready to collapse. everyone was exhausted, but you caught hotch’s eye and gave him a small, tired smile. "hey, we got through it. you don’t always have to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders, you know."

he gave a slight nod, but his eyes softened in a way that felt more intimate than any words could express. "i’ve gotten used to it."

"but you don’t have to do it alone," you replied, your voice gentle.

for the first time in years, aaron hotchner let himself feel vulnerable, even if just for a moment. "i’m starting to realize that."

there, in the quiet of the bullpen, it was just the two of you. no case, no tragedy, just an unspoken connection. and for the first time in a long time, hotch smiled. not a fleeting, half hearted one, but a real, genuine smile, just for you.

and from that moment on, everyone noticed. he was still serious, still focused, but there was a new lightness in his step when you were around, a subtle shift that made him more human, more open.

because you’d done something no one else had managed: you’d given him a reason to smile again.