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irndad · 1 month

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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?)

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misslupin · 1 month

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he is criminally boyfriend material.

#criminal minds #spencer reid #boyfriend #bae 💋#mgg pics #mgg #mgg edit #aaron hotchner #agent hotchner #aaron hotch hotchner #criminal minds drabble

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dronningreid · 2 months

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Who suffered more? Jesus or me when they removed Hotch from Criminal Minds.

#criminal minds #cm #bau #comfort character #aaron hotchner #hotch #agent hotchner #i am so devastated

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agentdilfhotchner · 6 months

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i need him to break me

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #thomas gibson #aaron hotch x reader #criminal minds #agent hotchner #aaron hotch

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sabage101 · 3 months

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it's too funny when hotch said "remind me to have her drug tested" WITH A STRAIGHT FACE

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thedelusionalbitchgianna · 4 months

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Spencer to Hotch: Emily told me to tell you that I want McDonald's

Emily standing in the doorway: I did not!

Hotch who just wanted to sleep: How the fuck did you two get in my house?

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mariasont · 5 days

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Office Sleepover - A.H

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

might make this a mini series?

‧₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧

pairings: aaron hotchner x fem!reader

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

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

wc: 3.8k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #criminal minds fanfic #hotch #hotchner #aaron hotch hotchner #ssa hotchner #agent hotchner #cm #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotchner x fem reader #Spotify

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thewulf · 9 months

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Frozen || Aaron Hotchner

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

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

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Y/N

Word Count: 5.2k+

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Aren’t all young boys?” You grinned.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Really?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Derek laughed, “You know what.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You should.” He tried once more.

But you weren’t having it, “Not.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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wyniepooh · 1 year

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aaron

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“hotch? i know you’re in there.”

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

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

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

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

“hotch? hey-“

“i'm sorry,” he mumbled.

“what?”

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

“hotch.”

“-could just open up. i’m so sor-“

“aaron.”

he stopped his sentence midway and found your concerned eyes.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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secretly-tumb1r · 10 days

Text

Roadtrip - hotch x reader part 2

part one

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“fuck a-aaron”

“i know baby i know”

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

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

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

“please f-fuck me aaron”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

@mrs-ssa-hotch

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