#aaron hotchner scenario

[rreids]

NEED • A. HOTCHNER X READER

fem!reader; use of the word cunt; soft sex, desperate but not super explicit; 18+ mdni; couch sex; they do not shut up; ~800 words

“You’re still up?” is the first thing you ask as you walk in and find Aaron in comfortable clothes on the couch, TV light flickering across his face. He glances up from the screen sleepily and smiles at you, hair messy and eyes soft. He looks young again, like the 27 year-old you met when you were finishing law school yourself.

“Watching a show,” he mumbles. That’s not the reason, but you allow him to get away with it, perching next to him on the couch. He turns instinctively, meeting your lips in a soft, sweet kiss. “I missed you,” his voice is soft and sweet, a whispered confession of his devotion.

“I missed you too,” you keep your voice soft, adoring the lines of his face with gentle fingers and a sweet smile as he leans into your hand. “How was today?”

Aaron sighs, craning his neck and rubbing a tense spot. “Okay. Better than most.”

You smile and press down on the knots yourself, feeling him melt under your fingertips. You were uniquely skilled in getting him to unwind, and he sighs at the gentle pressure. 

“Yours?”

“It was good, honey,” you whisper, kissing his hairline. He sighs, sinking further into the couch cushions. “Better now.”

He smiles, eyes lighting up despite how heavy they are. “Why’s that?”

“I have time with you now.”

Aaron grins, craning his neck to kiss you. It becomes hungrier, a trace of his tongue to get you to part your lips, and a gasp as you straddle his lap and press further into him.

His hands settle lightly on your hips, the fabric of your pants scrunching under the weight. 

You kiss him more aggressively, pawing at the hem of his t-shirt. 

“Easy,” he whispers. “Not going anywhere.”

“You’re not,” you agree, tugging it off him easily. He smiles into the kiss, tilting his head back as you bite and suck marks into the column of his throat. “Want to move?”

He shakes his head, unbuttoning your dress shirt. “Want you now.”

You smile and laugh softly, rocking your hips against him as the need builds in your core as a result of his kisses and the trails of callused fingers over your sensitive sides. 

“Prove it.”

He grunts against your skin at the demand and the sensation of you rolling your hips against his.

“C’mon, baby, up,” he helps you raise your hips and kick out of your clothing before laying you back on the couch.

You eye him shamelessly, broad, hairy, strong, manly, and so sexy as he removes the rest of his clothing. There’s not much heat, but there is a building need, and more than anything you want to be close.

So you tug him down on top of you, delighting in the surprised rush of air that escapes him as you kiss him hungrily and guide him blindly to the slickness of your cunt.

He rests his forehead to yours, swallowing your needy gasp as he presses into you. “God, you’re so wet,” his voice is so desperate, soft and husky with desire.

“Want you.”

“I want you too,” he whispers it against your lips, rocking into you steadily. “My pretty girl,”

You whimper at the praise. Something about the reverence and adoration in his voice, the domesticity of it, makes it so much more effective and you clench around him. 

“Please, Aaron,” you whine softly, and he nods, dropping his head to the junction of your shoulder and neck, mouthing marks into the skin as he gets sloppier, a hand circling your clit.

It’s when your nails rake down his back that he really loses all sense of self, begging softly and weakly in broken prayers for you to cum around him.

You do, a gentle wash of pleasure. It’s by no means weak, your muscles tensing and twitching as heat and relief roll through you, and you swear your vision blacks out.

Vaguely, faintly, you hear him whining your name before collapsing on you — still catching himself on his forearms, mindful of you even when he’s overwhelmed.

As you catch your breath, you study his sweat slick skin and blown-out eyes, his messy hair now damp with sweat. “Were you waiting for this?”

His crooked grin is all the answer you need, and you hiss as he pulls out, sensitive.

“I love you,” he tells you, kissing your finger right by your ring.

You nod. “I love you too. C’mon, let’s go get clean.”

You overestimate your strength, and he catches you when your legs wobble. 

“Easy, girl,” he laughs and you don’t even have a sarcastic remark in you as he helps you stabilize and walk to the bathroom.

dedicated to @hotchfiles <3 .. dick so good she (reader) can't even stand right .. me when

#my works #mdni #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #aaron hotchner smut #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner oneshot #aaron hotchner scenario #aaron hotchner fanfiction #criminal minds x reader

[ddejavvu]

wait your new hotch blurb got me thinking what about they got secretly married and everyone knows that hotch is married they just don’t know it’s to bau!reader because he seemed very genuine in the wanting privacy so (after complaining) they respected that, and maybe one of the team members sees hotch and bau!reader kissing in the hallway of a hotel or something and confront him about cheating on his wife

"How could you cheat on your wife?"

Penelope's harsh, degrading accusation hits Aaron directly in the chest, through the layers of stoicism that he's come to forge over the years of working in criminal investigation and straight to his heart.

All Hotch can manage is a, "What?", and Penelope's eyes dim further.

"Don't do that, Hotch. I saw you. I saw you and Y/N kissing in your office. How could you do that to your wife?"

She looks so crestfallen that Aaron's chest actually aches, so unprepared to see the famously bubbly Penelope Garcia close to tears. Close to tears because of him, no less.

Aaron might have chosen his words more carefully if he hadn't been so startled by Penelope's unusual devastation, but his jumbled brain forgoes its job and his mouth takes over, uttering the thoughtless statement, "That's- that's what she's there for."

And in his mind, it's true, if not the complete truth. You are there for him to kiss, you're there to be kissed and loved and appreciated and cherished, but he's momentarily forgotten that Penelope doesn't know that you and his mystery wife are the same person, and his words so easily warp into possessiveness and disregard.

Her face contorts into a mixture of disgust and rage that could take out a serial killer, and he seriously considers recruiting her as Chief Lecturer of the BAU, "Hotch? How- how could you say that? That your wife is just- just some thing to wait on you while you run off with someone else? You- Aaron, I can't believe you, I thought you were better than that!"

She tries storming away, tears budding in her eyes but Aaron catches her elbow, ignoring the way she flails and squirms at his touch.

"Let go of me!" She tearily demands, but he grabs her by the other arm now, holding both of her shoulders.

"No, Penelope, listen-" He tries, reminding himself to send her to Derek later for a self-defense lesson, because the weak shoves that she's pushing at his chest with do very little.

"No! No, I'm tired of listening to men," She shrieks, "You were supposed to be better than that, Aaron! I trusted you, you were supposed to be the kind of man that I could admire, and- but you're not! You're just like the rest of them, you're some egotistical, possessive, heavy-handed, domineering son of a-!"

"Y/N is my wife." Aaron cuts her off, his voice slightly raised, but not harsh. Never harsh, not to the sniffling mess of ruffles and glitter in his arms that handed him her resume on pink stationary all those years ago.

She falls silent, finally, but her lips still tremble. Aaron squeezes her arms tighter, not rough but comforting, "Y/N is my wife. We married privately late last year. We kept it secret for safety reasons, but I'll admit we didn't need to hide it from all of you. I was not cheating on my wife, I would never-" He thinks momentarily of Haley, of the gut-wrenching sound of her cell phone ringing with a call she wasn't brave enough to answer in front of him, "I would never do that to Y/N."

It's a lot of new information to process, and Aaron grants Penelope all the time she needs to work through it. When her red-stained lips part again she breathes, "You married Y/N?"

"I did." Aaron nods, and though it's not the time to smile, he can't help that a ghostly one flits over his features at the mere thought of the day he'd married you, "I'll show you pictures when we're done here. Penelope, you can trust me. I don't blame you for accusing me- in fact, I'm glad that you did. I'm glad that your loyalty isn't blind. But Y/N is my wife, and that's why I kissed her."

A very wobbly, "Oh." Is all that Penelope can manage, and she sniffles again, staring at his tie rather than his face as he holds her steady in the hallway. He's glad that they've both shown up early for the day, but you're due to return with coffee for the three of you any minute now, and he offers her his pocket square to wipe beneath her eyes.

"You said-" She chokes out sheepishly, voice unsteady as she smears the tears off of her cheeks, "You said you have pictures?"

That's how you find them when you return, seated on the couch in his office peering down at his phone. You have to set the tray you'd been carrying down on Aaron's desktop before you can properly greet either of them, but you're immediately alarmed by the tears streaked over Garcia's cheeks when she stands to face you.

"You-" She starts, not giving you a second to speak, "-are a rat! You got married," She gushes, and Aaron chuckles deeply from beside her, standing and pocketing his phone.

"You got married to our boss, and you told me nothing," She hisses, but slumps so easily into your chest for a hug that you're more than willing to give her.

"I'm sorry, Penny," You gush, squeezing her tight, "We just- we were worried about safety. The more people we told, the more dangerous it would become, so we didn't share it with anyone. But- but we should have told the team, I know."

She sniffles and you draw back to pick up her drink from behind you, sugary and pink and topped with a thick layer of whipped cream, "I got you a drink. Forgive me?"

"Reluctantly," She tries scowling, but she's never been very good at it. She takes the drink from you huffily, jamming the straw inside and taking a drag at the thick liquid. It's barely nine in the morning, far too early for the concoction she's sipping, but she nods after she draws back from the straw.

"This is delicious," She decides, "And you two are traitors, and I'm telling everyone about this."

"You should," Aaron laughs, stepping up behind you to press his shoulder to your own. It's comforting just having him there, and you relax against him as Penelope takes her leave.

"I mean it," She warns, wiping another stray tear from her cheek and sipping at her strawberry drink, "I'm telling everyone. I'm- I'm gonna hire some guy to fly a plane over the city, and the banner is gonna say, 'Y//N Y/L/N and Aaron Hotchner got married without me'."

"That's fair," You nod, not bothering to bite back a grin as she lingers in the doorway of Aaron's office.

"And so help me god," She narrows her eyes at you, once more falling just short of intimidating, "If you try to take some extended-sick-leave time, and I find out you're hiding a pregnancy from me? No amount of frappuccinos in the world will make up for it!"

"Noted," You call out as she leaves, and Aaron's hand comes up to press against the near-indiscernible bulge of your belly before the door even clicks shut.

"She's good." Aaron observes, and you reach for your own non-caffeinated drink with a grin that's hard to drink through.

"Let's tell her about the baby at lunch," You propose, "I think she's more than earned a secret to keep."

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner scenario #aaron hotchner oneshot #aaron hotchner one-shot #aaron hotchner one shot #aaron hotchner headcanons #aaron hotchner headcanon #aaron hotchner hc #aaron hotchner hcs #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner dialogue #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner x reader fanfiction

[ptersparkers]

reckless (aaron hotchner)

summary: After two years with the BAU, you get the feeling that Aaron Hotchner isn’t your biggest fan. That’s too bad, because you really like him.

notes: hello. this is singlehandedly the longest fic i’ve ever written (like 21.7K words). i didn’t intend for it to be this long and i tried to see where i could break it up, but i think it flows better if it’s in one piece. happy reading! x 

(edit: adding in that the reader is fem)

a huge thank you to @hotchsdoormat​ for being the best person alive and for listening to me rant about this piece. love u forever.

warnings: typical criminal minds speak, kidnapping and mentions of broken arms and ribs and typos, probably. 

***

Years of dreaming of becoming a federal agent for the Behavioral Analysis Unit led to the beginning of an illustrious career solving crimes and traveling across the country. It had only taken guest lectures by none other than the BAU themselves for the idea of catching killers and outsmarting them to do so to seep its way to the back of your mind.

You just wish you liked your job.

You like your work. You like walking into the office with a sense of purpose and you like profiling bad people and saving the good ones. You even like the shitty coffee that never seems to run out and you don’t mind the early call times and the sudden departures. 

What you don’t like, however, is your boss. But you know that’s just because he doesn’t like you. 

In your two years with the BAU, you don’t think you’ve ever seen Aaron throw a smile in your direction if it wasn’t meant for someone standing next to you. Two years of Aaron being dismissive and choosing to sit farthest from you in the conference room and on the jet. Two years of watching him foster friendships with your coworkers without sparing you a second glance. But work is work.

You’re an outsider. It’s almost what you expected. 

Emily’s the first one to tell you that you don’t need to take it personally. Her rocky start with the BAU and stories of learning that trust takes time eased your worries for a while, but Aaron never seemed to give you the time of day aside collaborating with the rest of the team. Everyone says he’s notorious for being stoic and intimidating, but you don’t see it that way. In your mind, he loathes you. 

Which is unfortunate, because you liked Aaron the most.

The guest lecture had sent you into a spiral of researching recently closed BAU cases and watching hours of press conferences led by Aaron. You appreciated the way he spoke about his work. He spoke about it like it was his due diligence and you liked that he treated each victim and their loved ones with grace and kindness. 

It kills you to know that he doesn’t trust you despite doing your best in the field. Your six month review approached and you passed with flying colors, earning a short-lived celebration from Erin Strauss before she exited Aaron’s office. But he kept quiet the entire examination, aside from putting his own input with how you acted in the field. He said you were diligent, followed orders well enough, and could listen to directions. It was the most you’d ever heard Aaron speak about you, but the swell of pride didn’t last long.

Sometimes people compare the two of you when it comes to your worth ethic. Last ones to leave, can’t be bothered when focused, and the need to excel in your career field while downplaying your contribution. Perhaps the need to do good in the world catapulted you into considering a role where you’d be actively helping others instead of a career where it would be too late. 

But every time you sit at your desk, opposite of Aaron’s office, you find yourself frowning. The blinds are always closed and you always wondered if Aaron could feel you staring at the emblem on his door when you wondered how you managed to keep your job. 

“I can hear your brain all the way from here,” Derek says, leaning against the stall of your desk. You avert your eyes from the door to his voice. “What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?”

“Nothing,” you say.

Derek gives you a look. “I know it’s not nothing, sweetness.”

“Just tired,” you lie, “I slept poorly last night.”

Your gaze focuses on the files in front of you and Derek looks between you and Aaron’s office. He does his best not to let you know it’s been affecting him too; everyone’s noticed how Aaron’s been giving you the short end of the stick and that his wavering trust hasn’t disappeared like it had for the rest of them. It doesn’t do any good for team morale. 

For a moment in the beginning of your time with the BAU, you think he’s asking you to prove yourself. You’re new, you need to get used to team dynamics, and you need to prove yourself capable before he can trust that you’d have everyone’s back. You understand that. 

What you don’t understand, however, is why he treats you like a first-day agent after your contributions. 

“Alright,” Derek says, knowing better than to pry you out of your work. “Coffee?”

“Please.”

He leaves you momentarily when Aaron steps out of his office. You try not to look up, but it’s hard to ignore him when your desk is pointed in front of his door. He’s wearing a classic black suit with a red tie, belt and shoes to match. You know what the look on his face means–there’s a case. 

“Everyone in the conference room,” Aaron pointedly says.

Derek finishes pouring two cups of coffee and brings it over to the room where he sees you sitting in front of the screen. You thank him for the cup as he sits beside you and Reid gives you a small ‘good morning’ before everyone files into the conference room and their attentions are focused on the faces on the screen. 

“Two children have gone missing in Los Angeles, California,” Penelope begins. “Gracie and Olivia McCormack, four and six respectively, were last seen in their shared bedroom last night and LAPD has contacted us to help find them.”

“Looks like the mother reported going into their bedroom to wake them up, only to find them missing,” you say, frowning. 

“Is the father in the picture?” JJ asks. 

“Jaqueline, the mother, divorced Scott McCormack before her youngest was born,” Penelope informs.

“New flame?” Emily wonders. 

“Yes ma’am. Logan James.” Penelope presses a few buttons and Jaqueline and Logan appear on the screen. “This is where it gets tricky.”

“It looks like both Scott and Logan were abusive towards Jaqueline during their marriages,” David reads from the file. 

“Jaqueline’s pretty familiar with the local hospital,” you mutter. 

“We can talk about the file and start to strategize on our way to LA,” Aaron says, packing his file in his go-bag, which is already in hand. “Wheels up in thirty.” 

***

The six hour plane ride doesn’t feel as nauseating as you had predicted. Your second cup of coffee sits on the table in front of you as your file is displayed on the surface, along with everyone else. Departure wasn’t terrible, mild turbulence followed but nothing you couldn’t handle. The armrest becomes your best friend on these flights. 

“Did Scott kidnap Gracie and Olivia because he wants his kids?” Derek says aloud. 

“Most likely,” Reid adds. “Scott’s a migrant construction worker. I can’t imagine anyone letting him raise two children without a steady home or income, though.”

“So he’s angry at the loss of his children and wants them back,” Aaron says. “Garcia, does Scott have any background of domestic abuse prior to his marriage with Jaqueline?”  

“One count of domestic battery with a former girlfriend, but his childhood tells us a whole different story.”

“What is it, babygirl?” Derek beckons. 

“Scott was born to heroin addicts and they’d leave him in hotel rooms for days while they tried to rob local convenience stores for money, presumably for their next high. Poor kid, he never stood a chance.”

“Damn,” Derek says, shaking his head. “I can’t imagine growing up like that.”

“He was put into the care of his grandparents on his mother’s side until he was six and–oh, ouch–he apparently caused too much trouble for himself that his grandparents gave him to the foster care system.”

“I can imagine that abandonment took a toll on Scott,” JJ says.

“Take the kids away from Jacqueline as punishment,” adds Rossi. “Makes sense, especially when Jacqueline was the one to file for divorce.”

“What about Jaqueline’s marriage with Logan? Haven’t we established that Logan was abusive during their marriage?” you ask. 

Aaron raises his eyebrow. “What about it?” 

“I think it’s important to consider him in all of this, Sir. If Logan was abusive to Jaqueline throughout their marriage, maybe Scott sees this kidnapping as some sort of effort to save them from harm.”

All eyes are on you now. It makes your skin crawl and you hope you don’t say the wrong thing.

“Go on.”

“If Scott really did take his kids, I don’t know if he did it to get back at her by kidnapping them. It makes more sense that Scott would want to save his children from an abuser. I mean, he knows what it’s like to live with abusive and absent parents. What if Scott wants to protect his children from suffering what he went through?” 

“Interesting,” Dave hums. “You’re theorizing that Scott considers this kidnapping as rescuing?”

You nod. “It makes sense. Maybe he has some animosity towards Jaqueline for letting Logan into their lives and retaliates by taking his children away from her because he thinks he’s saving them.”

“Let’s not jump to conclusions,” Aaron says pointedly. 

“I’m just spitballing,” you say. “I’m not trying to step on anyone’s toes.”

“Well, let’s keep it that way.”

You shut your mouth and revert your eyes back to the file that’s in your lap, desperate for any minute distraction it can give you. The rest of the team is stunned in silence and Spencer tries his best to fill in the awkward silence by reviewing all of the facts that have been listed in the report. 

At this moment, you feel small. Aaron’s dismissive attitude makes you feel somewhat inadequate at your job and you find it difficult to remind yourself of all the cases you’ve helped close when your boss has just undermined your work in front of your colleagues. 

His coldness towards you is what you don’t get. Aaron has a reputation for maintaining professionalism, which you can appreciate, but it seems like his stoic tendencies extend far beyond keeping it civil in the workplace. It feels like you’ve been isolated and boxed out from day one and despite having gotten to know the rest of the team on a deeper level, you still walk on eggshells around Aaron. It makes you wonder why he hired you at all.

From the other side of the plane, Aaron takes a seat in an empty chair and looks out the window pensively. He knows he’s being hard on you and he knows it’s unfair that he’s treating you much harsher than the others, but Aaron knows that it’s for the best. 

When you walked into his office for your initial interview, there was no doubt that you were the perfect candidate to fill in the role as a new profiler. Your past experiences had clued you into profiling and he promised Strauss that your addition to the team would benefit the BAU as a whole. 

And Aaron was right. Cases were closing at a higher rate than previously, your quick thinking and problem solving skills aided the capture of many prolific criminals, and it almost felt like you’d been with the team since the beginning. 

What Aaron didn’t account for, however, was developing feelings for you. 

All it took was a simple undercover operation to see you in a completely different light. The unsub had targeted women who looked like you and you were more than ready to step up to the plate to catch him. It took seeing you in a sleek black dress to make Aaron’s heart lurch out of his chest and make him feel like he was a teenager in love all over again, and he hated it. 

He hated feeling this way towards his coworker. For weeks, his mind bounced around the idea of what it might cost the team; your respective positions might cause an interference because of the dating policy set in place and how it would look from the outside. Aaron didn’t want to jeopardize your career by making it seem like you were providing unprofessional favors if news were to come out that you were romantically linked with him. He didn’t want your career to be damaged just because he couldn’t keep it in his pants. 

Moreover, Aaron hadn’t felt like this towards anyone since marrying Haley.

He had dated casually but never thought about the possibility of anything serious coming out of it. Aaron thought he might’ve come close to it when he had dated Beth for a while, but her career taking her across the country made him realize how unstable his life already was. Dating became a question of who gets along with Jack and the rest of his family and who is able to handle his frequent absences. His marriage to Haley showed Aaron the downside of traveling all the time and he’d be damned if he made that mistake again.

The idea of liking you in any capacity that wasn’t professional scared Aaron to death. He hates that he’s willing to find any excuse to walk by your desk or strike up a conversation with you if time permitted. He hates that his mind often wanders to a life of domesticity with you. The only logical possibility for him to combat his feelings for you is to keep you at arms length and treat you like he would any of his coworkers, which means keeping your personal lives separate and maintaining professionalism at all times.

It works a little too well and Aaron doesn’t realize it. He misplaces his anger—the frustration of knowing he can’t have you the way he wants you—and you’re at the receiving end. Aaron thinks he’s doing his best by delegating and separating you from him in the field, but he doesn’t realize that it’s causing professional tension because you constantly think you aren’t doing enough to help the team solve cases and catch criminals. 

Aaron spends the rest of the flight looking over reports the precinct sent over before the plane lands in Los Angeles. You elect to keep your nose buried in your reports for the fear of looking like you aren’t working hard enough.

***

The Los Angeles weather has cooled down when you land and Aaron has ordered everyone to head to the precinct first thing after touching down. The detectives are kind enough to reserve a room for all of you to work out of and you waste no time setting up the white board with the missing girls and timeline of the abduction. 

The stakes are high and you can feel the tension in the room. You aren’t a stranger to cases like these and you know that everyone is trying their best to keep themselves together for the sake of the department and the family of the victims. You try not to read into Aaron’s coldness to you too much. You’ve convinced yourself enough times that it’s the stress of the job and being away from his home that keeps him running on pure stress and adrenaline to prevent you from overthinking your position on his team. 

Aaron has you and Spencer stay behind in the precinct to work on the profile and piece together a timeline of the abduction, and you’re more than grateful you don’t have to spend time in the field with him. The relaxation enters your body the section you see him step out of the precinct and Spencer can’t help but pry. 

“You okay?” he asks.

You turn around from the white board and your sleeve smudges the freshly written text. The annoyance bubbles up in your chest and you hastily erase the mess you created and rewrite it before turning your attention back to Spencer.

“Stressed out, but otherwise I’m good.”

He pauses. “You’ve seemed that lately, though.”

“Can you blame me?” you ask defensively. “Our job isn’t exactly low-stress.”

“It’s just that every time Hotch enters the room, you stiffen up and you seem to lose your voice, and you play with your nails. It’s your biggest tell, actually.”

You give Spencer a pointed look. “Reid, I did not ask to be profiled.”

“Sorry,” he relents. “I just…look, I care about you and I hate seeing that you feel like you can’t share your ideas with us. Is something bothering you?”

You know Spencer knows. You’re sure the team knows why you’re apprehensive about your work and second guess yourself every time you bring forth a new theory or concept. But it’s hard to admit it out loud when all you’ve done is complain about him in your head and push your feelings aside for the sake of solving cases. 

But you know Spencer has always looked out for you after the first time you took a bullet for him a week into the job after barely getting to know each other. It’s the same way that he looks out for you in the field, protecting your cover and being the first to volunteer partnering with you when Aaron asks. He’s keen and perceptive, and you know you can’t hide your feelings from him unless you want to jeopardize another relationship with your coworker.

“I feel like Hotch doesn’t like me,” you say earnestly. “And I mean it in a way that seems almost personal.”

“He’s been pretty distant,” Spencer adds.

You shake your head. “It feels like he doesn’t trust my judgment or values what I have to say unless one of you backs me up. I can’t really tell you when I started to feel this way, but I’ve always felt like I have to walk on eggshells around him or else he’ll fire me.”

“No one’s going to fire you,” Spencer reassures. “You have an exceptional skill at finding unsubs and getting into their heads. It’s quite impressive how you’re able to put yourself in their shoes.”

“Thanks, I think,” you say with a laugh. “But you saw what happened on the plane. Hotch shot down my theory and told me not to jump to any conclusions even though I was just theorizing. I feel like he doesn’t want to listen to what I have to say because he doesn’t think there’s any value in it.” 

Spencer pauses. He sees your grip on the dry erase pen and knows how frustrated you feel. He knows you, the way you think, your work ethic, and just how badly you want to save these girls. He also knows how to distract you from your own feelings.

“Then tell me about your theory,” Spencer chides. 

“Scott might’ve taken his children as a form of punishment against Jaqueline. Sure, I think that’s a plausible theory to go off of, considering she was the one who filed for divorce. But he was never abusive towards the girls, whereas Logan was abusive to all three of them.”

He smiles when he knows it’s working.

“So you’re thinking that Scott is trying to rescue Gracie and Olivia from further abuse?”

“Yes,” you confirm. “As a parent, I can’t imagine tolerating a stranger abusing your kids. Maybe in Scott’s mind, Jaqueline was allowing Logan to abuse them without realizing he was doing the same to her.”

“The wife had full custody of the kids too,” Spencer adds, opening a case file. “He was only allowed supervised visits with a social worker present if she allowed it to happen and in the time they’ve been divorced, she hadn’t let Scott see them since she and Logan got together.”

“Okay, so Scott had enough and wanted to take matters into his own hands. If his ex-wife won’t take care of the kids and neither will her new husband, it’s up to him to take care of the girls.” 

“It looks like Scott’s had a problem with authoritative figures his entire life,” he says, frowning. Spencer turns the case file towards you. “His grandparents were physically and emotionally abusive and social workers did nothing about it. Looks like he was also a truant during his time in foster care.” 

“Get this. He’s been fired from multiple construction sites because he couldn’t follow orders,” you read. 

“Jacqueline was also the breadwinner of their relationship. I think Scott resents people who hold authority.”

“Scott wants to raise his kids,” you say, snapping your fingers. “It’s a rescue mission because he thinks he can raise them better than she can.”

Spencer grabs his phone and dials Aaron.

“What is it, Spencer?”

“Y/N and I talked more about her theory on the abduction. I think she’s right.”

Aaron doesn’t say anything. You’re almost sure he’s going to tell you to change the profile.

“We’ll meet you at the precinct in fifteen.”

***

You consider yourself lucky that Spencer backs your theory with claims and evidence. Your voice wavers multiple times when Aaron asks you to make your case, and the way he’s looking at you makes you doubt yourself. 

But everyone comes to the realization that you’re right. A few conversations with Jacqueline and an interrogation with Logan convinces Aaron that your theory had been the correct one all along. You should feel happy, but you don’t. 

You feel like you have to piggyback off of your coworkers and get them to support you before you can make your case heard. You feel like the smallest person in the room when you stand next to seasoned profilers who you’re sure Aaron values more than you. The weight of the world is on your shoulders and you carry it with you every time you formulate new ideas you want to share with the team. 

But you don’t dwell on this too long. 

Aaron has Spencer comb through security footage of local gas stations while Emily and David talk to Scott’s most recent employer. Derek and JJ are searching his last known whereabouts and searching for the girls, which leaves you and Aaron.

You’re barely able to hear his command. He wants you to talk to Jacqueline and try to coax more information out of her while he connects with Penelope about financial records and possible places he’s hiding the girls. She’s your age and he figures you might connect with her better than JJ did.

Jaqueline is understandably crying when you walk into the room. You hand her a box of tissues upon entering and she doesn’t say anything. She starts to open up after you tell her about yourself, your nieces and nephews, and you show her photos of them to prove yourself. You let her know you’re not a mother and can’t imagine the immense pain she’s going through, but you know what it’s like to care for people and how much it hurts when something bad happens to them.

Slowly, Jaqueline begins to talk. You ask her about her relationship with Scott and Logan, and all the important places that hold significance between the two marriages. She lists off a few and you make a note of it for later. Aaron calls you from the interview when Jaqueline has started to close herself in. He lets her go and gives her his business card in case she wants to talk, but tells her they’ll be in contact soon.

He doesn’t say a word about the interrogation. He just tells you to see if Derek and JJ need help canvassing more area. 

Two days later and the team is nowhere near finding Jaqueline’s children. Scott’s previous employer had less than stellar things to say about him and you’re beginning to panic at the thought of your ability to catch him and save the girls. Penelope calls with a development and thinks one of two locations is where Scott might be hiding the children. His trailer in East LA or a small house a friend of his owns. 

Aaron dispatches Dave, Emily, and JJ to the trailer while he commands you, Derek, and Spencer to follow him to the house. It’s located off of the freeway off the beaten path and you have a bad feeling about what’s about to happen.

Aaron’s driving like he knows something you don’t. You’ve taken a seat in the back with Spencer and listen as Derek points Aaron in the direction of the house. It’s getting dark outside, the sun is just barely above the horizon, and you know everyone has to be quick in order to save the girls if they’re in the house. 

LAPD officers drive behind the SUV. Aaron pulls over and you can hear the gravel underneath the tire. You swing the door open with all your might and draw your gun out as the rest of the team does, following Aaron’s orders to follow behind him as they explore the house. 

It’s quiet. Too quiet. 

The floorboards creak underneath you and Aaron tells you he’s going to clear the back of the house while you take the front. Everyone calls a distinctive ‘clear’ and you’re about to breathe out of frustration and ask Aaron if they’ve found the girls at Scott’s trailer when you hear the faint sound of someone crying from behind you. 

You’re careful not to step too loudly despite the hardwood floors. Derek finds you and calls out your name but you put your finger to your lips and he silences himself. The sound of feet shuffling sounds incredibly quiet, but you swear you can hear footsteps somewhere behind you. 

Spencer and Aaron join the two of you after hearing silence despite calling your names. Derek tells both men to silence themselves as you walk about the room, unsure of what you’re looking for. For the most part, nothing looks out of place. That is, until your hand falls on a set of books that feels much too hollow to contain any pages. 

“What is it?” Derek asks from behind you.

“I don’t know…I think this is a false backing.” 

And you’re right. You pull the books to reveal a small hidden entryway that’s dark, and it looks like it doesn’t lead to anything. Aaron’s halfway through telling you to let another police officer look through the crawl space because you have to take off your vest and gun to fit, but you’re not hearing it. 

“Hotch, I’m the only one who’s small enough to fit through here,” you say. “I’m shorter than the rest of you and all of you are men. I don’t think Gracie or Olivia want to see someone who looks like their dad.”

“She’s right,” Spencer mumbles. You don’t wait for Aaron’s approval, venturing into the crawlspace. 

Gracie and Olivia are understandably scared until you tell them their mother’s waiting for them at the police station. You help them out of the small room they’ve been kept in and notice how relatively furnished it is–a mattress, blankets, pillows, and coloring material–and make note of how your profile was right. 

You don’t spare a glance at Aaron, too invested in making sure the children are safe with EMTs while they’re being checked for harm. Olivia asks you to stay with them and holds your hand, and you don’t bring yourself to leave them. When the EMTs let you know they aren’t injured and can visit the police station without going to the hospital, Aaron reluctantly lets you accompany both of them back to the precinct. 

It’s well after dark by the time both children leave with Jaqueline. JJ and Emily have worked out a deal with local police to keep them under surveillance and protection until Scott has been captured and are instructed not to let Logan near the three of them for the time being. 

You aren’t able to say goodbye to the three of them, instead recounting your story to the local detective who needs your statement for the paperwork while it’s fresh in your memory. You’re on a high after seeing the two girls reunite with their mother and the entire team congratulates you on a job well done when Aaron storms into the office, angry.

“Y/N, go back to the hotel.” 

Aaron stands tall, his hands on his hips and his mouth etched in an angry frown. His voice is low and you can’t believe the words you’re hearing. 

“To the hotel? Hotch, you can’t be serious.”

“You made a reckless decision to abandon your gun and vest. That could have gotten you killed,” Aaron says. “You are not capable of working under pressure.”

“You told the entire team to use our instincts and that’s exactly what I did. I saved two little girls, for God’s sake.”

“You are hot headed and have this overwhelming urge to prove yourself when nobody cares how well you perform,” Aaron says angrily. “The entire time you’ve been with the BAU, you’ve barely contributed aside from piggybacking off of someone else to reach a conclusion.”

That, you know, is a lie. Aaron just wants to hurt you.

“At this very moment, you are incompetent and can’t hold yourself together for the sake of the victims and their families.”

“We have to catch Scott.”

“You can’t do your job, go back to the hotel.” 

“That’s not fair.”

“I don’t have to be.”

“Hotch.”

“I want you gone, Y/N,” Aaron says firmly. “Go back to the hotel or hand in your badge.” 

Unbelievable. 

You don’t spare Aaron another glance. Your feet carry you out to the lobby and your breath is so uneven that you need to step aside into an empty interrogation room to calm yourself down. Your jaw clenches and you ball your fists to gather some sort of relief, but you don’t find it. Instead, your nails dig into your palm until it turns white and you let go, exiting the room without another word.

The keys to the SUV are still in your pocket. You don’t necessarily care that the team will have to squeeze into the remaining vehicles and you don’t care enough to let one of them know you’ve made it outside. 

Your hands shake when you reach into your pocket. The warmth of the metal is familiar and your hand pulls it out when a stray tear falls from your face and splashes onto your cheek. Hastily, you enter the car and slam the door shut and lock it when you feel yourself overcome with sadness and anxiety. 

The tears fall freely at this point and you bow your head to the steering wheel, your breaths hot and mouth wet from crying. The back of your sleeves are soaked as you try to wipe away your tears to no avail and your vision becomes too blurry to drive. 

You allow yourself a few minutes to cry. The sound of your gasps echo throughout the care and your shoulders feel heavy with every sob. The weight of the world is truly on your shoulders now and you aren’t sure if you have a job when you go back to Quantico. 

But you pull yourself together and drive back to the hotel. It feels much longer than it needs to be and you sit in the driver’s seat for a moment when you park the car. You hate that you feel incapable of being a member of the team without Aaron breathing down your neck. You hate that you can’t live up to his expectations and that you try to in the first place. Working at the BAU wasn’t supposed to be a nightmare. 

You exit the car and lock it behind you, another stray tear escaping. You feverishly rid yourself of the tear and walk to the entrance of the hotel when you feel someone grabbing you from behind and an acute sense of pain at the base of your neck. 

It’s black after that. 

Back in the station, the local police have distracted themselves with their case files and other happenings while the rest of the team looks at Aaron in shock. Spencer's looking at the empty space where you stood and Emily is looking at Aaron like he’s grown a second head. 

“Are you serious?” she begins. “Hotch, we need everyone on this. We need Y/N.”

“She’s too hot headed,” Aaron replies. 

“Oh yeah?” Derek chimes in. “And how about you?”

“This isn’t about me.”

“You know damn well that Y/N adds as much value to this team as the rest of her. Two years with the BAU and stellar reviews from the board has proven that. Why are you still treating her like a first-day agent?”

“Y/N needs to learn to let go of her ego,” Aaron retaliates. “I don’t need to explain myself to any of you.”

“You’re wrong about her not contributing anything,” Spencer says. It surprises Aaron to hear Reid defy him on your behalf. “For the cases that we’ve worked on with her, she’s been the one to take lead on the preliminary profiles for most of them. Some of our biggest leads have come from her.” 

Aaron breathes and doesn’t say a thing. He looks at his team and knows they don’t approve of his choice to send you back to the hotel, but he stands by it. David looks at him like he’s almost disappointed in him and JJ holds his stare. 

He knows why he’s being extra hard on you. He knows he’s pushing you to your limit by keeping you at arm’s length. Aaron doesn’t want to admit that he sees you as anything other than his subordinate and coworker, but he does. He doesn’t want to be the reason why you don’t advance within the bureau and why there might be a future workplace ban on relationships. Even if he disagrees with how you handled things tonight.

Aaron doesn’t communicate any of this with the team while he stares them down. Instead, he fixes his posture and clears his throat. 

“Get back to work.”

***

When you come to, you’re acutely aware of the handcuffs around your wrist. 

The air is cold and you realize you’re bound to a pole in a barn, and you’re not sure where you are. Everything is suddenly hazy and your vision blurs until you blink rapidly with the hope that you’ll regain full consciousness.

The first thing you can feel is a headache. Your head’s pounding viciously and you wince at the pain, inadvertently tugging in your wrist and against the handcuffs. The metal is cold and it sends a chill up your spine when you realize you’re alone. You try your best to recite what you can sense over and over again in your mind.

The air is cold. You’re sitting on a hard floor with straw and other debris around you. The air smells like manure and hay. You can hear crickets and wind blowing just outside of the barn, and you can see hardware tools towards the back of the building.

The influx of emotions that creep into your chest is enough to make any person an anxiety-ridden mess. Your heart feels like it’s going to lurch out of your chest with every second that passes by because your reality becomes more real; this isn’t a nightmare you’re desperately hoping to wake up from. 

“Look who’s awake.”

It’s Scott. 

He flickers the lights on and that’s when you realize he’s holding a gun. 

“You took quite a while to wake up, actually. I’ve been waiting here for two hours wondering when you’d return to the land of the living.”

Scott dons a smirk that you wish you could wipe off with both of your fists. His right hand grips the gun haphazardly and he waves it around as he gestures while speaking, and the fear of dying has finally crept into the forefront of your mind.

“Where are we?” you ask. 

“South of Los Angeles,” Scott replies. “Far enough that your little team won’t find this patch of land.”

“Why’s that?”

His smirk widens when you stay quiet.

“You know, Agent, I find you interesting.”

“There’s nothing remotely interesting about me,” you say. You try your best to remember the profile and give him what he wants. He hates authority and between the two of you, you legally have all of it. So, you downplay yourself, 

“I beg to differ,” he laughs. Scott takes a step towards you and you recoil. “I’ve been watching this investigation unfold because I need to keep tabs on what’s happening so that I don’t get caught. It’s worked so far, but you were just lucky to have found my little girls.” 

“We found them because you made a mistake,” you chide. “You slipped up.”

Scott’s smirk turns into anger, and he takes another step towards you. 

“I made a mistake because I wasn’t thinking far ahead, Agent.” 

He takes another step and he’s by your thigh. Scott bends down to your level and you’re aware of how close his gun is to your abdomen, and you pray that you don’t say the wrong thing.

“I wasn’t thinking far ahead because I couldn’t see the bigger picture. But it came to me a few nights ago when I realized that you and I are people that don’t naturally get to be in the spotlight.” 

Scott caresses your cheek and you shudder underneath his fingertips. He retracts and stands up, pacing back and forth in front of you. 

“See, you and I are people who don’t get enough credit for our work. All it took was one moment watching your horrendous boss dismiss you for your work. I knew you’d be the key in getting my girls back to me.”

“What are you talking about?”

Scott leans forward. “You’re smart enough to figure it out.”

Unfortunately, it comes to you quickly.

The team had gathered around the house that Jaqueline and Scott had lived in when they were married. Penelope had clued the team in on this location. A new couple lived in that house with no connection to Jaqueline and Scott but you thought it was worth checking out.

Aaron disagreed. That house hadn’t been occupied by either of them for years since they got a divorce but your gut had been telling you to visit the property to look around for extra clues that might’ve turned up. Your insistence angered him, who accused you of disobeying orders, and it was David who had to intervene and remind Aaron never to leave any stone unturned.

Reluctantly, Aaron ordered the team to the house and you successfully convinced the new owners to let you look through their property with the promise that nothing would be disturbed. Two hours into searching and Aaron was ready to write your mishappenings in the file report when he returned to Quantico, but your sudden interest in the backyard piqued everyone’s interest.

You had discovered a well-hidden doorway to an underground room. The new family would’ve never seen it, as it was tucked away with roots and other invasive plants that covered the wooden doorway. When you and Morgan entered the space, it was clear that Scott had been there recently.

Unbeknownst to you, Scott has been hiding out a few houses down watching everything unfold, including the way Aaron distrusted your judgment. He’d been using that bunker as a living space, careful to work around the new family so as to not get caught. It was far enough that they couldn’t see him from where the windows were placed unless they were out in the backyard the same as he was.

“Remember now?” he asks.

You nod, complying. “You watched my boss reprimand me for wasting everyone’s time.”

He nods. “You and I are overworked and underappreciated. We don’t get credit or recognition even though we deserve it.”

“You knew we’d find Gracie and Olivia.”

Scott’s jaw locks but he agrees.

“I knew there was no way I’d be able to get to my girls in time to move them someplace else. So, I let you find them because I knew that I’d have no other chance to get them back if you arrested me.

“Then I followed you all the way back to the precinct so I could keep tabs on you and see where you were staying. It was just my luck that I happened to hear your boss yelling at you because of an open window. I knew my chance was when he ordered you to go back to the hotel.”

“How do I fit into all of this?” you ask.

“You, Agent, are going to help me get my kids back from Jaqueline and cover for me.”

“No chance in hell.” 

Scott doesn’t like that answer. He lunges towards you and tugs on your hair, enough to make your scalp feel like it’s being set on fire. 

“You don’t have a choice. I want my kids back and you aren’t in the position to make any demands.” 

He doesn’t say much after that. Scott looks into your eyes with a murderous expression before letting you go. Your head hits the pole behind you because he pushed you away with enough force that it makes you dizzy again.

“We’ll talk tomorrow,” Scott says from the barn’s entrance. “I need some sleep and so do you.”

He doesn’t uncuff you and you’re left wondering how you can sleep when you’re being held captive.

***

When the team leaves the precinct, everyone is too drained to continue talking about the case on the ride back. They’d only been there two hours after you left but Aaron gets the feeling that the rest of them aren’t happy with him dismissing you. 

The ride is silent and everyone retreats to their rooms respectively. He tries to forget the aching feeling in his chest and goes to sleep. 

He wakes up to a cold sweat. 

Aaron’s still not happy what perspired last night. He nearly made the choice to knock on your door and apologize for being harsh in front of the team and the local police, but he doesn’t. It’s better to put distance. It’s how he rationalizes how he’s treating you because he’ll fall apart if he imagines the consequences of being in a relationship with you. 

You’re the first thing he thinks about when he wakes up. He’s surprised he didn’t hear you knocking on his door to give him a piece of your mind, but he was too tired to consider that you didn’t. 

His clock reads six A.M. and he’s sure the rest of the team is waking up and heading to the police station like he is. Aaron feels more tired with each day passing and it feels like his body is on autopilot mode with how fast he’s able to change and get to the precinct. 

The team trickles in one by one and everyone makes their coffee before picking up where they left off last night. Penelope had sent the team a list of possible places that Scott might be and Aaron wants to cover as much ground as possible.

When he’s more awake, he mentally groups the team and the other police officers to search each property. 

He stops when he realizes you’re not in the precinct. 

At first, Aaron feels annoyed because he thinks you’re late. It isn’t completely out of character for you, as he’s watched you stumble into the office a few minutes before debriefing. Still, he prays that you’ll show up so everyone can move on with their day. 

But you don’t come in. Every person that walks through the door isn’t you and Aaron’s annoyance becomes a question of curiosity with fear at the end of it. 

“Where’s L/N?” Morgan asks from beside him. 

“Probably slept in,” JJ snorts. “She sleeps like a brick.” 

Everyone laughs at her comment in good fun because they know it’s true. You’re a heavy sleeper. But Aaron isn’t convinced. Something doesn’t feel right to him but he can’t quite place what it is. 

He gives it another ten minutes. Aaron’s bouncing from leg to leg, anticipating your arrival. He’s waiting for you to hastily apologize about not hearing your alarm and he’s waiting for you to jump right where you left off because of your tardiness.

But you never walk through the door.

“Something’s wrong,” Aaron mutters. Spencer nods at his disheveled expression from where he sits and Emily looks down at her phone.

“I know she’s a heavy sleeper but there’s no way she’d be twenty minutes late with the stakes this high,” Emily points out. 

JJ walks out of the room the BAU is occupying and inquires with everyone outside if they’ve seen you come in, but all of them say they haven’t seen you since last night. JJ walks back into the room with shaking hands and she’s almost reluctant to tell Aaron that nobody has seen you yet.

Emily tries to call your cell phone one more time with no luck. Aaron sends Derek to check on you at the hotel and doesn't bother to respect the speed limit on the ten minute drive to the hotel from the station. The receptionist is more than willing to give him a key to your room when you don’t answer your phone. 

When he walks in, he notices that you aren’t sleeping in the bed. Your room is clean. The bed is made and there’s no indication that you slept in it last night. Your go-bag is perched on the table and a few clothes are haphazardly thrown on the chair beside it. Nothing seems out of place. 

It’s when he walks back outside to return to the station that he hears a phone ringing from the bushes. Derek walks towards the sound and his breath catches in his throat when he realizes the phone is yours. He curses and picks up the phone to see Emily’s contact.

“L/N?”

“It’s me,” Derek says through your phone. “L/N’s not here and her phone was tossed in the bushes.” Metal catches Derek’s eye. “Wait a minute.” 

He walks forward with caution and his heart drops when he realizes it’s a discarded needle and your gun right next to it. 

“What is it?” Emily asks from the other line. She hears Derek sigh and she knows it can’t be good. 

“It’s a needle and her gun, Prentiss. L/N not showing up to the precinct and her belongings being discarded can’t be a coincidence.” 

From the police station, Emily panics. She hangs up when Derek lets her know he’s coming back and her panic rises when she sees her teammates looking at her quizzically. The lump in her throat grows when she realizes everyone is looking at her for an answer. 

“Did you find her?” JJ asks. Emily doesn’t speak for a second. 

“Morgan found her cell phone in the bushes by the front of the hotel,” Emily explains. “He also found a discarded needle...and her gun.” 

Aaron’s attention shifts from the file he’s holding to Emily, who’s fidgeting with her hands. 

“Her gun?” Dave asks for clarification. “Found outside of the hotel room?” 

Emily nods. “Morgan picked up L/N’s phone and said he found it tossed aside.”

“And none of us saw her when she left the precinct?”

Nobody says anything. 

“I think she’s been kidnapped,” Reid says abruptly. “None of us saw her when we got back to the hotel nor when we arrived at the precinct. Scott must know Y/N was the one who rescued his daughters and he’s either kidnapped her out of revenge or because he wants them back.”

Aaron doesn’t like that answer. 

His hands feel warm and his heart is racing too quickly for his liking. Aaron can feel his exterior start to wither away with the realization that you’ve been kidnapped and he doesn’t second guess himself when he calls Penelope and asks her to track Scott’s cell phone and to triangulate his last known location.

This is now a rescue mission and he hates that you’re the victim. 

The team doesn’t spare a second in finding a third location he could’ve taken you too. Penelope foregoes any of her other responsibilities to find you and Aaron can hear the frantic pace of her keyboard typing as she speaks. Derek and Spencer are visiting locations that hold significance to Scott in the event that he’s returned, but Aaron's doubtful that he’d make that mistake. 

It’s when JJ explains what’s happening to the lead detective does Aaron feel like his world is crumbling around him. He’s put himself at arm’s length so much as to push you away from him and right into the arms of the unsub, and he feels like he might pass out in the middle of the precinct. 

Emily and Dave pick up how quiet Aaron’s been ever since Penelope hung up. He’s too busy staring at the white board and it doesn’t help that your handwriting is all over it. Aaron’s throat is dry and he’s a second away from starting to blame himself for your disappearance, but he knows that he doesn’t have enough time to feel sorry for himself if he wants to find you.

When Derek comes back and tells the team there’s been no luck in finding you, Aaron’s heart sinks. He’s running out of options and he knows his head isn’t where it should be, but he can’t help it. Aaron does his best to keep himself composed when Spencer tries to piece together your timeline and he hates that they’re treating you like a abduction victim because you should be in this room with them. Instead, you’re God knows where and Aaron doesn’t bring himself to imagine that you might be dead already. 

It’s Spencer who makes the connection between you and his children. He theorizes that Scott must’ve been present when you had rescued the children and kidnapped you for one of two reasons: to exact revenge or to force you to help him get his children back. JJ suspects that it’s the latter because of your profile. Scott wants to get his children back and he’d do anything to do it. 

Dave wonders why Scott would risk kidnapping a federal agent and how he knew you’d be at the precinct or the hotel, and Spencer doesn’t hold his tongue when he said the only common link between the two of you is the way you’d both been treated by your superiors. 

The room goes quiet and Spencer thinks he’s overstepped, but he doesn’t regret his choice of words. 

Everyone looks at Aaron, who’s been silent the entire time. He thinks about how angry you were last night and how he convinced himself he didn’t see you shed a tear as you passed him. The guilt of sending you home and not checking in on you when he got back to the hotel is eating him alive because you’ve been missing for twelve hours and nobody knew about it. 

“Reid’s right,” Aaron says. He feels his voice start to break. “We know why he’s taken L/N but now we need to understand how he’s going to use her in order to get his children back.” 

Aaron’s phone rings and he’s grateful for the distraction. Penelope informs them of a house that was paid in all cash and purchased under a false identity a few months ago, and confirms that it was Scott who paid for the property after speaking with the realtor and showing her a photo. Aaron wastes no time ordering the team to head to the house and he feels like he’s running out of time when Penelope says the property is seventy miles from the precinct. 

The ride to the property is agonizing. Aaron’s grip on the steering wheel is lethal and he’s swerving between every car with the hopes that he’ll reach you in time. Emily’s sitting in the passenger seat and she knows there’s nothing either of them can do except hope that you’re alive and well.

“We’ll find her,” she says after a long period of silence. “You know L/N. She’s strong and won’t go down without a fight.”

Aaron hesitates to speak. He gulps and he feels like his mouth is far too dry to hold a decent conversation because while he knows that Emily’s right, he can’t help but feel utterly hopeless on the freeway while you’re being held hostage by Scott. 

“I shouldn’t have told her to go to the hotel,” Aaron says. “I should’ve left it at reprimanding her for going in alone. We could’ve avoided all of this.”

“You of all people know you couldn’t have predicted that Scott would’ve done,” Emily said. “It wasn’t in the profile. Neither of us could’ve predicted that he’d kidnap L/N.”

“I know.” Aaron signals and passes three cars who are driving far too slow for his liking. 

He’s silent again, which doesn’t surprise Emily. Aaron sits in the driver’s seat, a million thoughts racing to the front of his head but he can’t seem to choose the right words to speak. He knows how unfair he’s been to you and all the anger and frustration about not being able to be with you has transpired into this mess he’s found himself in. He should’ve never let his feelings get to this point nor let his frustration shift from the forbidden relationship onto you. 

“I’ve been unfair to her,” Aaron croaks. He hears the crack in his voice as it starts to falter, but he keeps talking because he thinks he might go insane if they sit in any more silence. “I’ve pushed her aside and made her second guess herself as an agent of this team all because I couldn’t keep my feelings in check.” 

“What do you mean?” Emily asks. Aaron sighs and he grips his steering wheel, embarrassed that he’s been an unfair leader and that he’s admitting it to one of his colleagues. 

“L/N is an exceptional agent and it’s no wonder why I fell for her.” 

Emily’s quiet and Aaron’s sure he’s made a mistake by confessing that to her. He wishes he could take it back and lie instead of being honest with his friend, but he can’t take back the words he’s said. And he stands by it. 

“I’ve been so busy trying to pretend like I don’t have feelings for her but every day I’m scared that something like this could happen to her. I hate it when she’s reckless and disobeys orders because I’m afraid that it’ll get her killed.

“I know what it looks like on the outside to see me and my subordinate in a romantic relationship. She’s young, career-driven, and I’d hate to stand in the way of whatever’s next for her. I don’t know how to act around her and I thought that pushing all of this down would help me lose feelings for her, but I haven’t.”

“You sound like a teenager,” Emily says. It shocks him and when he looks at her quizzically, Emily chuckles. “What, you think I couldn't see how hopeless you were when it came to L/N? Hotch, you’re like a kid in a candy store when she’s around. The rest of us were ready to start placing bets on you two until you started giving her the short end of the stick.”

He feels awful. Aaron’s guilt causes him to flex and rev the engine. 

“I never meant to hurt her,” he confesses. “But that doesn’t matter now.”

“What matters is that we’re on our way to rescue her and there’s nowhere else she could be,” Emily reassures. “Scott wants his kids back and he knows they’re in LA county. There’s no way he would risk taking her somewhere else when he doesn’t have Gracie and Olivia.” 

“Right,” Aaron says, clearing his throat. Neither he nor Emily need to chide him for how he’s been treating you. He knows he’s wrong and Emily knows it too. 

“L/N is the strongest out of all of us. She’ll make it through this.”

Aaron has a sneaking suspicion that Emily’s trying to convince herself, but he doesn’t say anything. 

When the team reaches the property, it’s notably quiet. The next neighbor is two miles down the road and Derek’s ready to search the house when Aaron steps out of his vehicle. 

“More backup’s two minutes out,” Aaron explains, “but we’ve got enough people to start the search. Reid and JJ, check the backyard. Prentiss and Rossi, check the house. Morgan, you’re with me. We’re checking the garage.” 

Aaron orders the police officers to check elsewhere before he and Morgan make their way to the garage. With his gun and flashlight in his hands, he approaches the enclosed space with caution and his heart spikes with anxiety. Before he can think about the worst that could happen, two police officers manage to open the garage door as he and Derek search the place. 

It’s empty. 

Aaron curses under his breath as they check the confined space but find nothing out of the ordinary. The rest of the team relates the same information and Aaron feels like he’s losing hope because he doesn't know where else you could possibly be. 

“Guys, there’s a barn across the landing,” comes JJ’s voice from the communications line. “There’s a truck parked outside and I’m willing to bet it’s Scott’s.”

Aaron’s heart stops beating for a moment. 

“We need to search that barn,” Aaron commands. “Everyone pull your resources and let’s head out.” 

It feels like slow motion to him, the way he diverts his attention to the barn that JJ pointed out. He feels like he’s watching the scene unfold in front of him from another person’s perspective and desperately prays that you’re in there, safe and alive. The grip on his gun is falling from how his hands are trembling but he reminds himself that he has a job to do. 

Dave touches the hood of the car and says it’s warm, which means Scott is most likely inside of the barn. The lead detective is ordering his team to secure the back entrance and surround the building so that Scott has no place to run and Aaron instructs his team to do the same at the front. Under hushed voices, he can almost make out the faint scout of scuffling coming from behind the large wooden doors and feels his throat close. 

Then he hears a gunshot. 

Everyone rushes inside and he’s overcome with dread when he walks inside. Aaron’s heart is racing; he can feel the grip of his gun slipping because of how unsteady his hands are and he’s nearly tripping from all the hay that he’s stepping on. He fears the worst when he enters and does his best to prepare himself to see your lifeless body.

But you’re laying on your stomach with a gun in your hands. 

You don’t process the ringing in your ears until Aaron moves beside you to reach for the gun in your hands. He’s tossed it aside and maneuvers you to check for any injuries. Aaron glances at your face and notices a deep bruise forming on your left temple with scratches and smaller bruises adorning your face, and he hates it. 

He hates that your body and face is covered in Scott’s blood. He hates that your hands are still shaking with fear. He hates that there’s nothing he can say or do that will make everything better for you. 

The shirt you’re wearing is covered in Scott’s blood spatter and you’re barely able to process that you’ve most likely broken a few ribs. You don’t say anything. The overwhelming urge to cry resurfaces and this time, you don’t stop yourself. 

Aaron catches you before you hit your head onto the ground and moves his body to sit behind you. You’re stationed between his legs, your back pressed against his chest as you slump over and grab his arm for support as your tears wet his dress shirt. Aaron foregoes all standard procedure and lets you cry in his arms instead of calling for the EMT to whisk you away from the hospital. 

You don’t care that your cries are almost louder than the ambulance sirens. Your adrenaline makes the blood pump loudly in your ears and you grip onto Aaron like you’re afraid Scott will come back to life and kill you if you let go. 

His free arm is secured around you. Aaron’s eyes become glossy as each second passes by and his heart breaks in two when he hears your continual cries.

“You did so good,” Aaron whispers. “So good. You’re safe now.” 

Aaron doesn’t let the EMT get close to you when you’re trembling in his arms. He tells them to wait a moment and they try to argue with him, but they relent when they see Aaron’s stern expression. His voice cracks when he tries to speak upon hearing your soft whimpers. Your eyes are screwed shut and Aaron strokes your hair as you bury yourself further deeper into him.

Dave and Spencer canvas the scene and look around for anything out of the ordinary to report. Derek's speaking with the EMTs while JJ and Emily are patiently waiting with blankets and bottles of water for you. But you don’t get up. Your legs feel numb from sitting down and Aaron’s grip on you is so tight that you feel like you’ll fall back down if you try to stand up.

Your sobs have turned quiet and you almost feel like you’re at peace. But then you remember your bruises and the blood still on your body. You remember Scott’s body and find yourself crying even harder.

“Let’s get you to a hospital,” Aaron says in your ear. “We can get you cleaned up and on your way home. Does that sound good?”

His voice is like honey. Sweet.

You nod and you try your best to sit up to no avail. Aaron tries to help you up and the EMTs catch you before you can fall back onto the ground. He reluctantly lets the EMTs take you to the ambulance where JJ and Emily are waiting. He watches as they drape a blanket over you and as you’re wheeled up into the vehicle. Emily offers to follow you to the hospital and JJ steps away, letting the ambulance drive off.

Aaron doesn’t process anything. He doesn’t hear the sirens, the police chatter, or Dave approach him with a concerned look.

“She’s gonna be okay, Aaron.”

Dave’s voice is nothing but a hollow shell to Aaron. It feels like an empty promise even though he knows you’re going to make it out alive. Still, Aaron doesn’t say a word.

“Let’s go meet her at the hospital.”

***

The doctor explains that you’ve suffered a concussion, a couple of bruised ribs, a broken arm, and a grazed bullet wound. You’ll be relatively fine, but Aaron’s heart is racing and can't get past seeing you covered in blood to pay attention to anything the doctor is saying. He hasn’t had time to beat himself up for sending you back to the hotel without accompaniment and he hates that the guilt is crashing in on him when you need him the most.

Aaron looks down at his sleeves and they’re covered in blood, dirt, and your mascara. He stares down in shock and his mind flashes to the barn, and he realizes it’s the first time he’s ever seen you cry before. It breaks him.

The doctor explains that they needed to sedate you because of your sudden adrenaline rush. Your shock had caused you to lash out when a nurse had grabbed your wrist, and through your clouded judgment, you’d swung at him with all of your might. Your fretful apologies made you uncontrollably sob afterwards and the nurse could only look at you with sympathy. 

Two hours later, the team was still waiting in the waiting room. Under the guise of wanting to get you something to eat other than stale hospital food, Aaron leaves to buy you a meal. But he needs to get ou and get fresh air before he suffocates. 

Aaron’s guilt eats him alive. He walks aimlessly towards a deli and scolds himself over and over again for making you drive to the hotel unsupervised. In hindsight, Aaron knows his personal feelings came into play when he berated you for your recklessness. He knows he was unfair to you because he would’ve done the same thing if he were in your position.

When he returns, Dave’s looking at him like he knows what he’s thinking, but doesn’t say anything. Aaron appreciates his friend’s concern but the guilt doesn’t relent. He fidgets in his seat and tries to calm his spiking anxiety but nothing seems to work. His mind retracts to the moment he found you covered in Scott’s blood and your cries are enough to make Aaron feel like he might shed a tear in front of his teammates.

His thoughts are disrupted when he sees your doctor approach the group. 

“She’s a little out of it,” says the doctor, “but she’s conscious. You’re all welcome to say hello, but only for a few minutes.” 

When the doctor directs the team to your room, she explains what happened after you reached the hospital. Aaron can’t process anything she’s saying. His ears are ringing and he feels like everyone around him is talking too loudly for him to be able to hear anything the doctor is saying. All he can pick up is “dehydrated” and “concussed.” 

Everyone hastily walks to the room you’re in. JJ files into the room first. It takes Aaron a few breaths to find the courage to step inside of the room and he’s sure Emily’s the one who helped him take the first step.

“What’s the prognosis?” your croaked voice asks. JJ sniffles and laughs at the same time, and the rest of the group watch you try to prop yourself up.

“How you’re able to joke at a time like this is beyond me,” JJ gushes. She takes a pillow from the bed and helps you sit up.

“What, a few broken ribs and a concussion? I’m lucky the bullet only grazed me.”

Nobody laughs but you can tell they’re trying their best.

Aaron towers over everybody easily and he’s in between trying to catch your gaze and trying to avoid it. Emily hands you the sandwich from the local deli and you waste no time, opening the wrapper and letting the aioli slide down the side of your mouth.

It’s easily the most adorable and most heartbreaking thing Aaron has ever seen.

“Slow down, Tiger,” says Derek. He grabs a nearby napkin and wipes the sauce away while you smile sheepishly.

“Sorry,” you mutter, taking slower bites. Spencer’s next to hug you and you welcome the way he refuses to let you go.

Everyone looks at you under the harsh lights of the hospital room and you feel like you’re being observed. The sedative you’d been given is enough to make you feel somewhat normal because no matter how hard you try to panic over the last few hours, you can’t. 

You feel like you’re numb to your experiences and the pain Scott inflicted. Staring at your team feels eerily normal and you almost forget that you’re sitting in a hospital gown with enough injuries to put you out of the field for a few months. 

“You broke my heart, kiddo,” Dave chimes in. He grabs your free hand and gives it a gentle squeeze, accompanied by a kiss to the back of your hand. JJ pulls you into a mother-like embrace, kissing the crown of your head. You lean into her touch and Aaron wishes he were the one comforting you.

“I feel like shit,” you confess. “I woke up feeling groggy and I feel like I’m about to pass out.”

“We’re so glad you’re okay, Y/N,” Emily says. 

“Thanks, Em,” you say. You take another bite. “This sandwich is good.”

“Aaron bought it,” Emily speaks.

You look at him. It’s the first time you’ve acknowledged his presence since he walked into the room.

“Thanks,” you mumble behind the sandwich. “I could eat five of these.” 

“I don’t want to deal with you puking on us,” Spencer jokes, and it makes you feel somewhat normal.

You don’t like feeling as though you’re a delicate piece of glass that’s close to being dropped. You hate feeling useless and pitied. Everyone’s looking at you with sad eyes and it makes you feel like you’ve let your colleagues down, even though you know there’s nothing you could’ve done to prevent what transpired.

“I’m really sleepy,” you say, haphazardly throwing the wrapper on the table next to you. It isn’t a lie, but you say it with the hopes of being alone.

“We’ll be back in the morning,” JJ says. She looks at the clock in front of her and doesn’t realize that it’s four in the morning. You squeeze her hand when her eyes well up. JJ wipes her eyes and blinks her tears back and you lean against her side.

Aaron can’t help but stare. You look so vulnerable at this moment and you’re doing your best to keep yourself awake, but the sedatives are making you drowsy. The team says their goodbyes and reluctantly trek back to the hotel, but Aaron can’t bring himself to walk into the building once he’s parked.

“Get changed,” Dave says after a brief moment of silence. Aaron looks at him in confusion. “Take a shower, eat something from the vending machine, and go back to the hospital.”

“She doesn't want me there,” he says slowly. 

“She’s asleep,” Dave dismisses. “She’s not going to know you’re there and I’m sure she’ll want to see a familiar face when she wakes up.”

“I’m not sure I’m the person she wants to see.”

“You were the first person she reached for when we entered the barn,” Dave explains, “and I know you won’t be sleeping a wink tonight unless you’re by L/N’s side. Go get changed and get back to the hospital, Aaron.”

“I just–”

“I know you feel guilty. Whatever feelings you have towards her never went away and that’s why you’ve been so hard on her.” Aaron’s not surprised that he’s picked up on this habit. “I don’t have to agree with how you handled it, but what matters is that she’s alive and she’s resting. We got her back, Aaron. She’s here and Scott isn’t.” 

Aaron knows Dave is right. He thanks him for being a good friend and trudges back into his hotel room, hastily freshening himself up before returning back to the hospital.

***

You wake up later in the morning with little to no recollection of how you got there. You feel extremely out of it, like someone removed a ton of bricks from your chest after keeping it there for a fortnight. You look to your left and see a window that shows you a gloomy D.C. morning. You look to your right and see Aaron Hotchner slumped over in a seat, asleep. 

This wakes you up. You’re blinking the sleep out of your eyes when you realize he’s snoring. It’s soft and unassuming, but you don’t remember the last time you’ve ever seen him sleep. 

The chairs must be uncomfortable, too. You do your best to sit up—which is when you notice the sling on your arm—and manage to prop yourself up on the pillows until you’re sitting upright. Aaron stirs in his sleep at the sound but he’s still asleep.

You’re not close enough to reach him and wake him up. You aren’t sure that you want to either, for the fear that he might start telling you a laundry list of all the things you did wrong throughout the case. 

The doctor from last night walks in and knocks on your door, which shifts your focus. Aaron’s still asleep and the doctor, who reintroduces herself as Dr. Aguta, gently walks around Aaron and to your bedside.

“How are you feeling?” she asks you while holding a clipboard. You notice her colorful print skirt first and it’s a contrast to how grey it is outside. 

“My head hurts,” you say with a croak. It’s the first thing you’ve said since you woke up. “And I realized my arm’s broken. But other than that, I feel fine.” 

Dr. Aguta gives you a pleasant smile. “I’m glad to hear that you’re doing okay. The sedatives we gave you last night seemed to help ease your pain, though I’ll be giving you a prescription for the rest of the month when it wears off.”

She hesitated before speaking again.

“Do you remember why you’re here?”

Unfortunately, you do. You remember Scott, the gun, and Aaron coaxing you to go with the EMTs. It’s mostly a blur and you can’t remember the details but you remember enough. The softened expression is a dead giveaway and Dr. Aguta doesn’t press any further.

She sees your gaze shift to Aaron, who still hasn’t woken up.

“He came last night and insisted on staying with you,” Dr. Aguta informs. “Typically I’d only let immediate family stay overnight, but your boss seemed extremely worried about you.” 

“He did?” you ask. It’s news to you.

She nods. “When I saw him for the first time last night, I could tell he’s a man of few words and the leader of your team. But last night he was a stuttering mess and I let him stay overnight with the condition that he doesn’t wake you.”

You don’t say anything. Aaron’s mouth is partly ajar and you know he’s going to wake up with a lot of back pain from how he’s positioned. Dr. Aguta performs a routine check up on you and lets you know that you’ll be discharged from the hospital the following day. You thank her profusely and she can only give you a reassuring smile. You ask her to wake Aaron up for you just before she leaves.

Aaron blinks and remembers he’s not in the hotel. Dr. Aguta excuses herself to give the both of you privacy and he sits upright, stretching his back unpleasantly. 

“Morning,” he says, clearing this throat. “How do you feel?”

You’re getting tired of answering this question but you humor him.

“Better,” you say honestly. “Aside from my broken arm and concussion.” Aaron’s gaze shifts to your arm and he almost winces.

“Did you sleep well?” 

“For the most part, but I think the sedatives had more to do with it than anything.”

“Good, I’m glad.” 

An awkward silence falls over the both of you. Aaron desperately tried to pull himself together by waking himself up and you’re fiddling with your hands. You noticed he’s changed since you saw him last night, now in slacks and a quarter zip, and you don’t remember the last time you’ve ever seen him look so casual.

Aaron’s trying to think of the right words to say. As your boss, he wants to tell you that none of this was your fault and there’s nothing you could’ve done to prevent it from happening. He wants to tell you he shouldn’t have ordered you back to the hotel, not without anyone accompanying you.

But as someone who has deep feelings for you, Aaron wants to say he was scared to death and thought he might lose another person he cares for. His anxiety skyrocketed through the roof when he saw what you had done to Scott and he wishes that you didn’t have to work through this trauma.

But he doesn’t say anything. You watch as he swallows and you know his brain is working overtime by how often he pulls his eyebrows together. You don’t have it in you to be angry at him like you were the night he sent you away. The sedatives, along with your exhaustion, leaves little room for anger. 

“I’m getting hungry,” you say to break the silence. 

“I can get something from the cafeteria,” he offers immediately, touching his pocket to make sure his wallet didn’t fall out. 

“That would be nice.” You’d be lying if you said you weren’t touched by the offer.

Aaron leaves for a short while and you try your best to process what just happened. He chose to stay with you overnight. He offered to buy you breakfast. You didn’t think Aaron would care for you like that.

He comes back a while later and apologizes for both the sandwich (that looks haphazardly made) and the time it took, as there was a long line. You thank him politely and eat the meal, and you’re grateful that you have anything to eat at all.

Aaron watches you and feels like he’s invading your personal time. He bought himself a fruit cup, knowing Dave would reprimand him for not eating if he were able to buy something. 

“I shouldn’t have told you to go back,” Aaron says softly. You almost didn’t hear him say it. “I shouldn’t have gotten mad at you. I did the wrong thing and it got you kidnapped.”

You don’t tell him that it’s okay, because quite frankly he’s right. He shouldn’t have sent you home, but you know it’s not his fault that you were abducted. 

“It’s not your fault that Scott took me,” you say matter-of-factly. Aaron can sense what you’re trying to say and his eyes hang in shame. “But I’m alive. I’m going to have one hell of a transition back to work, but I’m alive. I’m here. That is, if I still have my job.”

Aaron’s eyes snap to you.

“The job is yours for however long you want it,” he says immediately, and he means it. “What you did was reckless but I can’t say I wouldn’t do the same thing.”

This makes you smile a little and Aaron soars when he sees it. 

“I didn’t mean what I said back at the precinct either, Y/N. You’re a fantastic agent and we’re lucky to have you.”

There are a million things you want to ask him. Why have you been second guessing me? Is my work not satisfactory enough? Why did you stay in the hospital with me? 

But you don’t. There are too many things you want to say to Aaron that it ends up turning into a frustrating mess every time you think of the right question to ask. Aaron doesn’t seem to notice your lack of conversation. Or if he does, you think he’s trying to fill the awkward silence like you are.

“I don’t mean to be a burden,” is what you settle on. “I don’t purposely challenge your authority or how the team operates. I know I haven’t been here as long as everyone else but I like to think I make enough contributions.”

“You do,” Aaron says. “You aren’t a burden.”

You don’t believe him. “I just…lately I feel like I've been getting in the way of things.”

“You haven’t.” Aaron means that honestly but you don’t pick up on it. “You’ve shown immense critical thinking and problem solving skills. This case alone has proven that.”

You don’t disagree with him, but your mind reverts back to Scott and you start to deflate. 

Aaron knows he needs to apologize for how he’s been acting towards you. The abduction and his guilt is eating him alive and it forced him to be truthful with himself about how harsh he’s been treating you upon realizing he likes you more than a colleague should. But he doesn’t know whether this moment is appropriate or not. Ever the professional.

Both of you are saved by Dave showing up unannounced. He’s dressed casually too, with jeans and a sweater for an unusually cloudy day in Southern California. His knocking brings both you and Aaron out of your heads.

“Hey, kiddo,” Dave laments. He enters the room after you beckon him in and gives you a gentle hug on the side that doesn’t have your sling. “I won’t ask how you’re feeling because I’m sure you’re tired of that.”

“Thank you.”

“But I did want to check up on you,” Dave continues. “The rest of the team are slowly waking up, I imagine.” He turns to Aaron. “I assume we’re grounded here until Y/N can fly back.”

“That’s right,” Aaron says. “Tell the team they have the rest of the week off. I don’t think Strauss wants us spending more of our budget on flights.”

“Already done,” Dave says with a smile. “You had us worried for a while there.” 

“I’m sorry,” you apologize, even though you know you have nothing to be sorry for. “I didn’t mean to make any of you worry about me.”

“We always worry about you, kid. It’s our job.”

“Are the girls okay?” you ask him. 

“Safe and sound. That’s actually why I came to visit, other than to check up on you.” 

You blink out of confusion.

“Jaqueline called the precinct and asked to speak with you,” Dave explains. “Long story short, she got in contact with me and wanted to know if you’d be willing to speak with her. She wants to thank you in person.”

The thought never crossed your mind. Saving her children had always been your first priority, even when Scott threatened to kill you if you didn’t help him. You’re not a mother by any means, but Jaqueline is around your age and you have plenty of nieces and nephews to get an understanding of how difficult this whole ordeal was for her.

And if you were being honest with yourself, you wanted to make sure Jaqueline would be okay. 

“Absolutely,” you say immediately. 

“Y/N, are you sure?” Aaron asks. “You just got to the hospital.”

“I’m sure,” you confirm, turning your attention back to Dave. “They can come visit me here if they’re willing to. I don’t think I have it in me to go to the precinct.”

“Of course,” Dave says with a small grin. It’s almost like he knows this will heal the both of you. He leaves the room and tells you he’ll be back later this afternoon.

Aaron sits in silence and he’s in awe of your resilience. He’s sure it’s the shock and sedatives talking, but he’s always known you to be someone who puts other people first. 

“I should call Strauss and let her know the situation,” Aaron says. “I’ll be back in a little bit, okay?”

“Okay,” you say, and you’re strangely reluctant to let him go. But you do anyway and he walks out of the hospital room, leaving you with your thoughts. 

***

Dave lets you know Jaqueline is here with the girls a few hours later. 

“Agent Y/L/N?” a voice says from beside you. The young mother knocks on the door as two children hide behind her legs. You beckon them inside, with Aaron and Emily supervising from beyond the threshold.

“Jaqueline,” you say, propping yourself up to seem more presentable. “Hi. It’s great to see you.” 

“I’m sorry for barging in like this,” she apologizes, but you’re already waving her off when you see the two children emerge from behind her. “I wanted to thank you in person. For saving my kids.”

“It’s no problem,” you downplay. 

But Jaqueline shakes her head and rushes to grab your hand. She pulls away when she thinks she’s crossed a line, but your grip is devastatingly tight when you squeeze hers. Jaqueline looks at you and tears slip from her eyes, and her children hug her legs like they know something’s wrong.

Jacqueline composes herself and brings Gracie and Olivia in front of her, who each have hand-decorated thank you cards made of colorful cardstock paper, stickers, and glitter. Your heart swells at the gesture and you will yourself not to alarm the family in front of you with your tears, so you promise yourself you’d cry when they leave.

“Hi, Munchkins,” you greet. “What’s all this?”

The girls shyly give you the cards, the eldest taking initiative to put them in your hands.

“Thank you,” she says quietly. “Mommy says you were very brave and saved us.”

“We drew these last night!” the younger one exclaims. “Mommy let us stay up late because we couldn’t sleep, so we made these for you.”

“They’re beautiful,” you compliment, looking at the colors below you. Jaqueline hasn’t let go of your hand. “You girls are very talented.”

“Thank you,” the young one says bashfully. “I hope you get better soon.”

Your heart swells and Jacqueline squeezes your hand again before letting go. You watch her lips flutter and as her children become preoccupied with their dresses, Jaqueline surprises you again.

“Would it be alright if I called you from time to time?” she asks. “To let you know how we’re doing. That we’re okay.” You reach for her one more time.

“I’d love that,” you say honestly.

Jaqueline doesn’t say another word, but the look of gratitude and her quivering lips is enough to make all the hurt from the past few days disappear.

You watch as they leave the room and as the young girls save goodbye. David escorts them to the front of the hospital, which leaves Aaron awkwardly standing in the threshold with his body leaning against the doorframe.

Aaron watches you. Your eyes glaze over and the cards in your hand are slipping through your fingertips, and your lips move as if you’re trying to find the right words to say. But nothing comes out. Aaron listens as your breathing becomes shallow and watches a stray tear slip from the corner of your eyes.

Before he can think, he rushes by your side and envelopes you in his arms.

He’s sitting on the edge of the bed, somewhere between wanting to give you enough space and wanting to pull you against him. Your fingers are tight on his forearms when he hears your labored breathing become erratic and as your tears soak the fabric of his t-shirt.

Aaron takes the liberty of moving you in front of him, his back against the pillows you were sleeping on. He looks at your frail body in front of him; you always carry yourself as a strong-willed, independent agent on the field, and now he sees that he mistook your brazen character as recklessness when it was false bravado.

His heart aches when your grip on him tightens. Aaron reaches out to move the cards to the side table and pulls you against his chest, thankful that this bed is barely enough to fit the both of you. Aaron notices your craned neck, bringing the hand that isn’t wrapped around your frail figure to your head and gently moves your head to his chest.

Your soft whimpers are enough to make Aaron’s heart break all over again.

“You’re an amazing person,” Aaron says. “You are selfless, caring, and generous.” His words compel you to cry even harder and Aaron lets you weep in his arms until your eyes are dry and you’re hiccuping. 

Aaron doesn’t let you, not for a second, feel embarrassed about breaking down in front of him. His thumbs are drawing soothing circles on your arm and he’s wiping away your tears with a tissue, allowing you to unravel before him. 

Your dry heaving doesn’t bother Aaron, but he coos into your ear and tells you he’s going to get you a bottle of water when you grip his arm. He pries your fingers off of him and melts when you snuggle your head closer to him, but he knows you’re thirsty and the best thing he can do for you is keep you healthy. 

“I’ll be back in two minutes,” he promises. “I’m all yours after that.” 

You nod reluctantly and let him go. The bed feels empty when he leaves and you feel pathetic for hanging onto him like he’s your lifeline, but you don’t care. You just want to be held.

True to his word, Aaron comes back a few minutes later and uncaps the bottle for you. A soft ‘up’ utters from his lips and you sit up straight. He brings the bottle to your lips and tilts your head back enough to let the water slide down your throat. 

Aaron puts it aside when you’ve signaled that you’re done and slides into the spot next to you once again. He puts his arm around your shoulder and brings you to his chest again. 

You don’t tell him, but you feel his heartbeat. It’s irrationally fast and you don’t know what to make of it. You tighten your hold on him as you start to fall asleep and you miss the way Aaron rocks you to sleep. 

***

When it’s time for your discharge, you’re feeling better than you did a few days ago. The team welcomes you back on board once you’ve been cleared to fly and it feels like nothing’s out of place. 

JJ bought a bunch of pastries from a local cafe and everyone (save for Aaron because he was with you the entire time) has written little messages on a decorated card. It’s Spencer who frets over you the most, bringing you cups of tea and asking if there’s anything he can do to ease your pain. You’re quite touched. 

You know you’re in no shape to drive home when you land. Your dominant hand is broken and your car sits in its designated spot, no doubt gathering dust and debris. The team is tired from the trip and everyone checks in on you one by one before leaving, and you don’t know how you’ll get home until you realize your car keys are still in your desk drawer.

Aaron watches you for a moment. He notices your apprehensiveness and the way you look at your car keys, and he puts two and two together. Before he can register what he’s doing, Aaron’s making his way to you and offering to drive you. You start to tell him you don’t need a chauffeur and that he should go home instead, but he’s more worried that you might hurt yourself inadvertently. He persists and you reluctantly say yes because you know he’s right. You could barely open the door to the building, let alone drive home. 

The car ride to your apartment is quiet, save for the sounds of cars passing by on the freeway and the sound of gravel underneath the tires. You look up at your apartment complex when you tell Aaron the code to get into your garage and he parks in the visor spot after you’ve directed him.

The sling on your arm is a nuisance and you already can’t wait to get it off. You’re able to unbuckle yourself with your free hand and you’re surprised that Aaron opens the door for you.

“Thanks,” you mumble. 

“It’s not a problem.” You can tell he means it.

When you get to your apartment, you’re somewhat surprised that you haven’t lost your keys. You struggle to put them into the lock correctly with your non-dominant hand and Aaron can see the quirk of your eyebrow and how you’ve bit your lip out of frustration.

He fears he’s overstepping. He takes the keys out of your hands gently and opens the door for you anyhow. 

When you walk inside, you don’t think you've ever felt happier to see your small one bedroom apartment. Aaron sets your go-bag on the kitchen counter and you stand still for what seems like an eternity until he brings you out of your haze and encourages you to change out of your clothes and take a shower. 

But you don’t move. You stand in the middle of your living room and stare blankly out of your window, unable to appreciate the breathtaking view of D.C. like you always do. Your throat feels dry and your feet feel like they’re permanently planted on the hardwood floor beneath you.

Aaron comes to stand beside you and he leaves distance between the both of you. He looks at the sight before him and makes a comment about how he’s jealous of your view, but not even that gets a reaction out of you.

“I don’t want to be alone,” you mumble after a long pause. “I-I can’t be by myself right now.”

Aaron knows Jack is at sleepaway camp for a school trip and doesn’t get back for another few days. He doesn’t have to think about keeping you company so you don’t feel alone.

“I can stay with you,” he offers. “I’ll sleep on the couch.”

You turn to look at him and the offer is enough to bring tears to your eyes. 

Aaron sounds so soft, caring, and unlike himself. Your heart tugs at his caring nature and you’re overwhelmed with the notion that he’s caring for you like he cares for your colleagues.

“Please,” you croak.

Aaron nods. He puts his hands on your arms and ushers you into the hallway and you point him in the direction of your bedroom. He’s acutely aware that this is the first time he’s ever been in your apartment, let alone in the room you sleep in, and tries not to dwell on it for your sake. 

“You should take a shower and sleep,” Aaron suggests. “It’ll help clear your head.”

You follow Aaron’s lead. He guides you to your dresser and you grab an extra change of clothes and he accompanies you to the bathroom next door. 

“I’ll be in the living room if you need anything, okay?” he says. “Don’t be afraid to get me.”

“Okay,” you say meekly. Your voice is far too dry to speak normally.

Aaron closes the bathroom door and you avoid looking at yourself in the mirror. You’re sure you look like a mess, despite being taken care of in the hospital back in Los Angeles. But you feel sticky from the flight and the sudden change in temperature, and you want nothing more than to cleanse yourself of the memories from LA.

You remove the sling from your arm and try your hardest to take your clothes off but you find it exceptionally difficult with your arm being in a brace. It hurts to lift your arm and you nearly cry out of frustration and exhaustion when you realize you can’t take your shirt off by yourself.

Embarrassed, you contemplate on showering with your clothes on, but ultimately know you’d need to take them off anyway. You open the door and call for Aaron, and you hear his steps as soon as you do.

“Are you okay?” he asks when he realizes you’re still in your clothes.

“I can’t, um, take my clothes off,” you say, clearing your throat. “I can’t bend my right arm and my left one is extremely sore. I can’t take my fucking clothes off.”

Aaron isn’t offended by your defensiveness. He gathers that it’s your coping mechanism because you feel embarrassed, but Aaron doesn’t care. He doesn’t say anything but he nods like he knows what you’re going through and you have a suspicion that he might.

“I’ll close my eyes and take your clothes off for you,” Aaron says. He says it in a way that’s so sincere but it still makes your cheeks redden at the innuendo. Aaron tries to ignore it because he feels a blush coming.

“It’s so pathetic that I can’t do this by myself.”

“It’s not pathetic,” he reassures. “You have a broken arm and your body’s still in pain. Let me help you.” 

You don’t say anything and Aaron takes it as a cue to move closer. True to his word, he puts his arms on your waist and turns his head away from you, careful to not hurt your broken arm. He maneuvers the fabric until it’s free from your body and he’s acutely aware that he’ll need to touch you in order to take the rest of your clothes off.

Aaron’s surprised when you move his hand to the button of your slacks. He clears his throat while you look up at the ceiling and bite your lip, pretending that the situation you’re in is completely normal to keep yourself from blushing too much. Aaron’s fingers work on the button and he’s careful not to put his hands where it’s inappropriate. He almost laughs at the thought, considering he’s your boss and he’s helping you take off your clothes.

You shimmy out of your slacks as Aaron slides it down your legs. He blushes at the thought of what’s to come next and swallows hard. Aaron returns to his stance and finds his neck is sore from craning, so he keeps his eyes closed and faces you.

“I’m sorry,” you apologize again. “I-I don’t think I can unclasp my bra.” 

You wince at your words, but it’s true. You tried to reach behind you when Aaron worked on taking off your pants, but the ache in your shoulder was too much. 

Aaron doesn’t say anything and you’re afraid that he might leave you. He’s so quiet that you can barely hear his breathing and you look at his closed eyes and see that his jaw is clenched. He mumbles and you’re barely able to catch it. Aaron lifts his hands to find your shoulders and you nearly shiver underneath his warm hands, despite the fact that your body might be just as hot. 

Aaron reaches behind you and searches for your clasp. You can feel his fingers on your back as he feels for it and he’s incredibly aware that your gaze is on him. It takes all of his willpower not to open his eyes. He’s imagined undressing you before, but not like this. Aaron’s fingers find the clasp and he’s slow to undo it, afraid of tangling the metal.

You feel yourself free from its constraints and Aaron slowly moves his fingertips from your shoulders and down your arm. You comply the best you can with your sore arm and your broken one, and your breathing hitches.

Aaron ignores how fast his heart is beating when he hears your bra drop to the floor. His mind is in overdrive and he bends down again, his fingers immediately coming to your waist and gripping them with gentle care. You look down at him and your mouth is wide open with your jaw hanging when you realize he’s on his knees in front of you. Aaron’s fingers hook on the material of your underwear, but you can’t bear to see him take them off.

“Wait,” you say, squeezing your eyes shut momentarily. 

Aaron forces himself to keep his eyes closed and he can hear your shallow breathing. His fingers are wrapped around the fabric of your underwear and suddenly he’s aware that it’s an intimate piece of clothing. Aaron’s cheeks redden and he’s desperately hoping you don’t notice.

“I can do it,” you say. Your voice wavers and you aren’t sure that you won’t be in pain when you take them off, but seeing Aaron on his knees with his hands practically down your underwear is too much for you at this moment.

“Sorry,” he apologizes, clearing his throat. His fingers detach themselves and he abruptly stands up. Aaron keeps his eyes closed still.

“No, it’s okay,” you say, and you mean it. “I really appreciate you helping me out…I’m sure this has crossed a lot of boundaries.”

Aaron wants to tell you he doesn’t mind it one bit, but he holds his tongue to refrain from making you uncomfortable. His eyes feel heavy and he stumbles when he stands up but catches himself when he feels the doorknob behind him.

“Like I said, I’m here if you need anything.” 

Aaron stands still for a moment and it feels like the both of you had the air knocked out of your lungs. He doesn’t want to overstep or make it seem like he’s taking advantage of your vulnerable state, so he exits the bathroom and closes the door behind him.

You lock it immediately and pin yourself against the door. Your heartbeat is irrational and you turn the water on, fixing it to your desired temperature. Bending to take your underwear hurts and your shoulders feel like they’re about to pop off, but you manage.

You’re acutely aware that Aaron’s in your living room, no doubt trying to rid himself of the awkwardness. You aren’t sure if you’re grateful at what transpired because while it’s enough to help you forget about Los Angeles, it makes your cheeks flare into a hot mess and you feel uncomfortably turned on.

Aaron, too, feels the same way. He feels filthy sitting on your couch and results in pacing around the room. His shoes are discarded by the door and it feels all too domestic. Aaron’s tie is suddenly too tight so he tugs on the knot to loosen it. He rids himself of his suit jacket and places it neatly on the arm of the couch, and thinks about anything but you, naked in the shower. His slacks feel a little too tight, so he takes out his phone to check his email. It works for a while,

A while later, Aaron realizes you’ve walked out of the bathroom and you’ve managed to change without his assistance. You comment about how the shower loosened your muscles and you were able to get your clothes in relatively painlessly, but all he can think about is how cute you look in an oversized shirt and sweatpants.

He’s too preoccupied admiring how undone you look because it’s the complete opposite from how he sees you at work. In Quantico, you’re somewhat put together, always wearing appropriate office attire and taking your caseload with grace while the rest of the team complains to no end about the amount of paperwork that needs to be filed.

Now, you’re standing in front of him with wet hair and an old shirt that has lost some lettering. It’s domestic and Aaron loves it.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t even think about offering you the bathroom,” you say timidly. 

It’s nerve wracking for you to be in Aaron’s presence because of what happened a few moments ago and because you’re not sure why he’s been so nice to you. It’s fresh and strange at the same time, as you’re used to him looking over your shoulder.

But you don’t feel like he’s being domineering. 

“I’ve got a few shirts that might be your size,” you announce. “And a bunch of sweatpants too.”

Aaron’s heart flutters at how welcoming you are considering all that happened to you, but he’s also found himself standing with jealousy when you mention that you have men’s clothing. Are you dating someone? Does he know he’s there?

“I love thrifting and sleeping in big shirts,” you explain, overcompensating for how awkward you feel to be standing in front of your boss looking like a disheveled mess. “I tend to thrift for clothes in the men's section because you guys have really good clothes for dirt cheap.”

Aaron’s worries are quelled and he doesn’t know why he feels so relieved to know you aren’t seeing anyone. 

“That would be great,” Aaron says. 

You nearly skip to your room and huff at your awkward demeanor, pulling out a large shirt from your dresser and a pair of sweatpants you hope is big enough. When you walk back to the living room, Aaron is still standing in the same spot and you’re somewhat touched that he’s nervous to be in your apartment.

“You can change in the bathroom,” you instruct. “Take as long as you need. There’s an extra toothbrush on the counter and a towel on the rack.” 

Grateful, Aaron scurries into the bathroom and you walk away before you can think of imagining him getting undressed. Instead, you busy yourself by fetching extra blankets and pillows for him. There’s an extra thick blanket in your closet and you pull two pillows from your bed, unsure if Aaron’s the type of guy to care about his pillow count. You find yourself stumped for a moment, each hand two with pillows as you debate on how many to give him, before you realize how idiotic you must seem if someone were to take a peek inside your head.

You settle with two pillows. 

You’re fixing a cup of tea for the both of you when Aaron walks out of the bathroom fifteen minutes later. You know he likes to drink chamomile tea on the plane when you’re coming back from a case late at night. You’ve seen him make it a million times. It feels weird to be making him a cup, but you figure it’s the least you could do after he helped you change out of your clothes. 

“I made you tea,” you say lamely, setting the cup down on the opposite side of the kitchen counter. Aaron walks towards you and he feels the hardfloor beneath him and how hot the mug is when he touches it. Thinking about this distracts him from your broken arm and the swell of guilt he has in his chest. 

“Thank you,” Aaron says. 

“I put in a little bit of honey. I hope it’s not too much.”

Aaron raises his eyebrow. “How’d you know I liked honey in my tea?”

“You drink it a lot on the plane,” you explain. “I see you make it a lot. You always scold Spencer every time he puts too much of it in.”

He can’t help but smile, but he hides it behind the cup.

Neither of you say anything. You don’t know what more you can say. The words cause you to choke every time you think about what happened back in Los Angeles. Realistically, you know there’s no way Scott can hurt you anymore, but it doesn’t stop you from panicking at the thought of being alone in your apartment. 

But you look at Aaron, who’s looking at you, and you’re able to let your guard down for a little while. 

“Thank you,” you muster. “For taking care of me back at the hospital and back at the barn. It…it meant a lot that you stayed.” 

“Of course,” he says a little too quickly. “You’re a member of this team and your safety is my top priority.”

Your gaze drops to the floor. You aren’t sure what you were expecting. An apology? A confession? Truthfully, you don’t know what you want to hear from Aaron but it hurts knowing that he views you as just another colleague.

“I’m sorry that I haven’t made you feel that way in a long time,” Aaron starts when he realizes you’ve grown quiet. “A member of the team, I mean.” 

“I-I just felt like I should’ve been doing more,” you confess. 

“You’re doing everything right, Y/N. You’re an exceptional agent and an outstanding person. Any part of the bureau would be lucky to have you.”

“Yeah?” you ask quietly. 

“Absolutely.” Aaron means in.

You finish your tea and it all becomes too much for you. The pain of your arm is quelled by the medication your doctor prescribed and Aaron helps you open the bottle. It makes you feel silly that you need someone else’s help to do something so simple and you feel your frustration get the better of you. 

“I’ll be out here if you need anything, okay?” Aaron reassures. “Please don’t hesitate to wake me up.”

“I promise,” you say and it’s one you’re planning on keeping.

You close the door behind you and turn off the lights. It feels weird to be in your apartment because you feel like everything should be back to normal, but it isn’t. In your years with the BAU, nothing as serious as this kidnapping has ever happened to you. You’ve been trained to deal with kidnappings before and how to talk to the victims and to the survivors, but you’ve never thought you’d have to deal with the aftermath yourself. 

You can’t sleep on your side because of your cast and your body feels like it’s constantly being run over by a stampede. The soft mattress is a contrast of how stiff your body feels and it all feels like it’s too much. 

Aaron can’t sleep either. He’s been staring at the door for the past thirty minutes as he tries to fall asleep. His phone is plugged into the wall behind him and he checks in with Dave, who texted him as he drove you back to your apartment. Aaron briefly thinks about Jack and his heart softens for a moment, but then he hears your soft cries from the room.

Aaron lies completely still and hears your whimpers. He hears you sniffle, blow your nose twice, and he’s acutely aware of the fact that he has no idea what to do. He has half a mind of barging into your room to comfort you until you’re asleep, but he doesn’t want to overstep his welcome more than he already has. Aaron feels frozen on the couch and doesn’t know if you’re too nervous to ask him for comfort.

He’s surprised when you walk outside. You don’t turn the lights on and he can barely make your face when you step into the moonlight. But you look frail, broken, and like you’ve been tormented by your memories. Aaron hates that.

“Aaron?” you call out. Your voice is small and his heart cracks. “Can you keep me company?”

Aaron doesn’t need to be told twice. 

He lifts the blankets from his legs and follows you into the bedroom. You sit on the edge of the bed and sniffle. Aaron sits next to you and carefully puts his arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his side.

It’s comforting and it aches. The pain of trauma and knowing that your life will never be the same again makes it seem like you’re never going to recover. Aaron doesn’t say anything, letting you cry into his shoulder and ignores the way your tear stains have soaked through the fabric. 

He’s imagined being in your apartment before; he often wonders what your decor looks like and how often you spend time here. He’s imagined cooking breakfast for you before you wake up, making you cups of your favorite tea, making the bed after you’ve both woken up, and kissing you goodbye when you walk out the door. Being in your bedroom like this feels too intimate, but if he was being honest with himself, Aaron doesn’t really mind it. He likes that he’s the person you choose to lean on. He feels like this is the first step in holding himself accountable for how he’s treated you in the past. 

Your shoulders are shaking and Aaron does everything he can think of to coax you through your sadness. He whispers praise and allows you to cry when you keep apologizing for your behavior, and he keeps telling you that he’s not going anywhere. 

When you manage to calm down, you’re tired. Aaron lets you climb underneath the covers and tucks the blanket under your chin. His hand brushes your skin and he blushes, though he’s sure you can’t tell because of how dark it is. Aaron bids you goodnight and starts to walk back to the living room but you reach out for his hand before he gets the chance to leave. He turns around and feels your soft grip on him. 

“Could you sleep with me?” you ask. “Or at least stay with me until I fall asleep?”

“Of course,” Aaron says. He throws all caution in the wind and starts to walk to the other side of the bed and he’s surprised when you open the covers for him.

Your mattress is soft and your blankets smell like you. He tries not to think about it and leaves space between the both of you.

“Did you know I joined the BAU because of you?” you ask in the darkness.

“What?” Aaron says of shock.

You laugh lamely. “You guys held a few seminars at my alma mater and I knew then what I wanted to do with my life. I applied to the academy the next fall.”

Aaron doesn’t know what to say. His cheeks are hot and you’ve rendered him utterly speechless. In your tired state, you push yourself as comfortably as you can until the back of your head is leaning on Aaron’s chest, mindful of your broken arm. 

Aaron’s stunned and his body stiffens. But he thinks of all the times he’s thought about laying beside you like this and decides that he’ll cherish it as much as he can. His arm snakes itself underneath you as he tugs you closer, and he whispers a soft goodnight.

***

D.C. is a little cloudy when you wake up. The light peeks through your blinds and you’re made aware of the man sleeping beside you when you realize your face is buried in his chest. Your good arm is beneath you while the other is on top of the blanket. Aaron’s arms are encircled around you and when you feel his warmth. 

You don’t rush to wake him up. Being here with him somehow feels right despite the part of your brain telling you he’s your boss and nothing more. But Aaron wouldn’t stay with you if he didn’t want to, right? 

Part of you thinks he’s doing it just because he feels guilty. You know that there’s some truth to that, but you wonder if it’s the only reason he elected to take care of you. But you decide it’s too early to think about this. Instead, you close your eyes and bask in Aaron’s warmth, and fall asleep again. 

This time, Aaron wakes you up twenty minutes after you fall back asleep. His arms are numb from your weight and he feels like he might try to kiss you if he doesn’t wake you up. 

Your eyes flutter open and you bury your head in his neck. Aaron doesn’t bring himself to push you off of him. He pulls you against him and the both of you lay in silence for what feels like an eternity. 

Eventually, Aaron has to leave because Jack’s coming home from a sleep away camping trip. He apologizes a thousand times over because he knows he said he wasn’t going anywhere, but you tell him that Jack is more important. An unrecognizable expression flashes across his face before he’s out the door, promising you that he’ll call to check in once Jack’s home.

And he does. Aaron calls you a few hours later when Jack’s in the shower and asks you how you’re feeling, if you’ve taken your medication, and if he needs to do anything for you. You decline for his help despite desperately wanting him back in your apartment.

When night falls, Aaron lets Jack stay up an hour later than usual. They’re watching cartoons from the nineties when Aaron gets a sudden idea. He pauses the television and turns to Jack.

“Do you remember Y/N?” Aaron asks his son.

“Of course I do,” Jack says. “She’s the one who buys me snacks when I come to visit you.” 

“That’s right, buddy.” Truthfully, Aaron didn’t know you’ve continuously done that for Jack. But he rolls with it. 

“Is she okay?”

Aaron knows Jack can tell something’s up.

“Not really,” Aaron replies honestly. “She got hurt real bad in our last case and broke her arm.”

Jack opens his mouth in surprise. “Oh no. Do you think she’ll get better soon?”

“I hope so. She needs a lot of help right now because she lives alone.”

“Well she can stay with us until her arm is better,” Jack says as if it’s the most obvious solution in the world. Aaron can’t help but smile through his shock. 

“I’ve gotta ask her first, but I think that’s a great idea. That’s actually what I wanted to ask you.”

“It’ll be fun!” Jack exclaims. “Me and Y/N can watch cartoons while you’re at work and she can help me with my homework. She’s nice like that.” 

“Yes she is,” Aaron says, nodding. 

“Do you think I should make her a card so she feels welcomed in our home? I think I have leftover paper and glitter. Girls love glitter.”

“Y/N would love that. I’m going to talk to her first and if she agrees to stay over, you can make her a card.”

“Yay! This is gonna be the best sleepover ever.” 

Aaron’s ecstatic that Jack’s receptive to the idea. He calls you the next morning and proposes the idea of staying at his place until your cast comes off. When you lament how long that’ll be from now, he insists and tells you Jack was the one who came up with the idea.

You can’t say no to Jack. 

Aaron helps you gather belongings from your apartment and tells you that he’ll drive you back here or pick you up any time you want or need to. You double check that you’ve packed enough clothes for a week.

It’s a gradual and awkward start. You feel out of place as you try to navigate his apartment and where he keeps everything, not wanting to feel like you’re already welcomed in his home. But Aaron keeps reminding you that his home is your home and you don’t need permission since you’ll be here for a while.

Jack is sweet, too. He helps you by telling you where everything is stored and goes so far as to hold your hand while doing so. He insisted on tucking you in while you slept in the guest bedroom just to make sure you were comfortable on your first night, and you thought you might start crying in front of him.

At first, you walk on eggshells. You tiptoe around the boys and feel like a burden when Aaron brings home dinner for three or when he buys extra groceries, especially when he refuses to let you chip in. Jack tries to ease your worries after sensing your discomfort by asking you to build legos with him and you do your best despite the pain in your arms.

Aaron reminds you of your medication (and in turn, Jack asks you if you’ve taken your pills), cooks your favorite comfort meals, and drives you to mandated therapy sessions whenever he has the time. It warms your heart at how helpful he’s been since you know how busy he is typically, and you’re not sure what to make of your emotions. 

Time passes by and suddenly staying with Aaron feels somewhat normal. You’re off of work until your arm is healed and you’ve seen your therapist a number of times, and you know you have a couple of months of doing whatever you want until you go back into the field. Against the advice of Strauss, you continue to help with cases and the paperwork load so Aaron can spend more time with Jack.

Gradually, you start to feel comfortable when you’re alone. You use his kitchen, clean his dishes, and busy yourself with tidying Jack’s messes. You explore his neighborhood and have found a few cafes and restaurants you’d like to try out. You feel more comfortable lounging on his couch instead of keeping yourself in the guest bedroom.   

It feels domestic and you can’t tell if it’s a good or bad thing. There’s still so much left unsaid, including how you’ve felt being his subordinate prior to your abduction. Aaron’s apologized over and over again, has given you time to heal from it and chooses not to ask for forgiveness in lieu of letting you find it yourself. It means a lot. Deep down, you know Aaron isn’t a bad person. You just wish you knew why you were different.

A week turns into two, then into three, and soon enough you find yourself caring after Jack. You feel useless if you sleep in and start waking up early to make breakfast as best you can for everyone (limited to cold breakfasts until you start to feel confident using your dominant arm when it’s out of the sling). Aaron walks into the kitchen to see you making oatmeal one day and you’re worried that you’ve overstepped, but he thanks you profusely.

Jack waddles in and he takes the oatmeal without question and asks if you can put brown sugar and fruit in it. You look around and see apples and blueberries, and Jack chooses the blueberries. He watches as you fix him a bowl and eats his breakfast in silence.

It becomes a routine for you after growing tired of doing nothing all day. Helping Aaron’s around the house as best you can, working remotely on cases, and spending time in his neighborhood feels like you’re recording.

Jessica, Jack’s aunt, has been informed of your stay by Aaron. You’ve met her before in passing but have never spoken to her in depth before staying with Aaron. She picks him up and drops him off, making small talk with you about her life and about your work. It goes so far as coffee dates when she’s available and it feels like your life is getting back on track.

Meanwhile, Aaron realizes he’s bit off more than he can chew when he sees you every morning. He hears your morning voice and finds himself wanting to wake up to it every day. He sees the way you are with Jack, how thoughtful and helpful you’ve been, and thinks it’s where you belong.

And it hurts. It hurts to know that all of his suppressed feelings are suddenly coming to the surface.

Your cast is coming off later today and you’re due for another mandated therapy session and a psychological evaluation before you’re able to return to work. He’s elated, but that means you’re okay to return to your apartment and he’ll have to get used to the house being empty.

Aaron’s parked his car at Quantico and he glances at you in the passenger seat. Your arm sling and cast are gone and you look as good as new, but he’s reluctant to step out of the car. You look back at him, hands fiddling in your lap.

“Thank you for taking care of me,” you begin. “I don’t know what I’d do without you and Jack.”

“You’d be just fine,” Aaron assures. “But it was nice seeing you recover. Is your arm doing okay?”

“It’s like I never had a broken arm.” You flex it in front of him for emphasis. “My shoulder’s still a bit sore but I think my physical therapist has expedited the healing process.”

Aaron smiles. “Good. I’m glad.” 

A brief moment of silence falls between the two of you before you both get out of the car. Your therapist had asked you whether or not you were ready to integrate yourself back with the team and was scheduled to supervise your initial day back in the office. You’re apprehensive, however, because you know that you never perform well if you’re being watched closely. 

JJ’s the first to greet you when you walk through the doors. The office smells the same and it looks the same, but it doesn’t feel the same. You spend a few extra seconds embracing JJ and gather that she needs this hug more than you do.

Everyone files in and it’s barely eight in the morning. David congratulates you on recovery, Derek and Penelope bombard you with jokes that make your stomach hurt, Emily shows you photos of Sergio upon your request, and Spencer gives you a side hug and tells you he’s glad you’re doing better.

The therapist arrives soon after and you’re on your best behavior without making it seem like you’re trying to be. 

In the end, she permits you to return back to the BAU with the promise of continuing therapy. She refers to you to a few others and tells you that you should try to go in at least once a week, or however frequently your job lets you. You’re clear to fly, yield your gun, and you’re reinstated as a profiler with the BAU.

Aaron drives you back to his place to pick up your belongings before he drives you back to your apartment. He and Dave had been kind enough to drive your car back to your place, where it’s been sitting untouched.

The ride is filled with music from the eighties and you’re so elated from your first day back at work that you don’t mind singing in front of Aaron and pretending you’re shredding on an electric guitar. He takes his time getting home, taking the long way instead of the direct route, and he doesn’t think you notice. Aaron hopes you don’t.

But he arrives at his place and Jessica’s greeting you at the front door, happy to see you’ve recovered before she goes home. The sun has barely set and Jack walks out behind his aunt, asking you what’s for dinner.

You’re stunned for a moment as the realization that this all ends tonight. Staying with Aaron, falling into a life of balancing work and domesticity comes to an end when he drops you off at your apartment. Jack’s tugging on your elbow and Aaron scolds him because you might still be in a little bit of pain. He apologizes sweetly.

Aaron beckons you inside where you've started to pack your belongings. The luggage you've brought seems smaller than when you brought it, as you find it difficult to pack everything. You make the bed and set the room as you found it (to the best of your recollection), and you’re ready to put your shoes on when Aaron rounds the corner.

“I was thinking we could have one last meal here.” He clears his throat. “To celebrate your recovery.”

You don’t hesitate. “I would love that. I finally get to show you my cooking skills.” 

Aaron smiles and Jack runs to your legs, beckoning you to the kitchen. You settle on making oven baked chicken with mashed potatoes and honey glazed carrots, all of which Aaron had in his refrigerator. Jack asks how he can help and you’re touched when he brings a stool to perch on, and you tell him he can help you by rinsing the potatoes. 

Aaron offers to help and you look at him with a silly grin, letting him prepare the carrots while you prepare everything else. Halfway through the process, Jack becomes somewhat irritable because of hunger and because the entire kitchen smells like a Thanksgiving feast. But he relents and waits for the meal to be done when you tell him the food always tastes better when it’s cooked longer.

You almost forget it’s your last time with Aaron and Jack when you eat your meal together. You forget it when Jack insists on ice cream for dessert and when Aaron makes you a cup of tea just the way you like it. You forget about it until Jack asks his father if he can be there when he drops you off at your apartment. 

Your heart breaks a little. Aaron agrees and lets you grab your belongings while he buckles Jack in the car. Your luggage is in the trunk by the time Aaron is done and he opens the passenger door for you before getting in the car himself. Jack talks the entire ride, thanking you for dinner and lamenting how much he loved spending time with you. Aaron’s grip on the steering wheel is tight and he doesn’t think his heart could swell any bigger.

Eventually, the boys walk you up to your floor and Jack lunges at your abdomen after the three of you have walked into your living room. 

“I’m gonna miss you,” Jack mumbles in your sweater.

“You’ll see her around, buddy. She’s not leaving the team,” says Aaron.

“But I’ll miss Y/N at home. I like spending time with her there.” 

You and Aaron share a look. You can’t tell what he’s thinking but you know you’re unable to control the influx of emotions that will eventually spill out of you when they leave. 

“Me too,” Aaron says quietly. 

They leave soon after that.

You spend an hour crying in your living room and you haven’t unpacked your suitcase. Living with Aaron and being so close to him made you realize how your feelings for him, albeit complicated, have always been there. 

You love him. You love his generous nature. You love the adoration he has for Jack and for his team. You love how he knows your beverages of choice and how gentle he’s been with you. You love the way he says your name and you love that you feel right at home with him.

It’s ten o’clock when you grab your phone and you know Jack’s been asleep for at least an hour. You dial Aaron’s contact and in your anxious state of mind, nearly regret your actions. But he picks up and you hear the sweet melody of his voice through the phone. Your voice falters at first, but you push through them anyway. You’re sure Aaron can hear your voice post-crying because of how raspy your voice is, but you don’t care.

You tell him you think you love him and it’s not because he’s been taking care of you. You pour your heart and soul into this speech and you panic when he doesn’t say anything.

“This’ll be one hell of a story we tell Strauss.”

And you laugh. You laugh because you know Aaron feels the same and you laugh because facing paperwork and recounting this conversation to Strauss doesn’t seem like the most frightening thing in the world anymore.

But just for good measure, Aaron tells you he loves you too. 

***

AAAND WE’RE DONE X 

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x oc #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner blurbs #aaron hotchner sceanrios #aaron hotchner imagines #aaron hotchner oneshots #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x oc #criminal minds x you #aaron hotchner scenario #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner oneshot #aaron hotchner #SSA aaron hotchner #criminal minds #thomas gibson #my writing #reckless #yall if no one reads this im gonna scream ok bye enjoy #fem reader

[alwaysmoncheri]

hi!! I love your drabble about hotch and the monster under the bed! I had this idea and I wanted to share if you want to write it, but no worries if not. Years later reader and hotch's daughter is a teenager, hotch/reader wake up because they hear something in the middle of the night coming from daughter's room. An intruder?? Hotch goes to investigate, but the noise was actually daughter sneaking her bf in the window. She makes him hide under the bed when she hears her dad coming. (I thought of the line "you told me to make friends with the monster under the bed!") Maybe hotch notices her window is open or something and is suspicious. I love girl dad! Hotch. Sorry if this is too specific! 🩵🩵

oh my goodness! i love this sm! thank you for requesting! (never too specific, my darling, no apology necessary)

cw: girl dad!hotch, mom!reader, fem!reader, established relationship, fluff, kissing, minimal swearing, daughter’s name not specified, boyfriend’s name specified, 1.1k

<3

“hey, hey, you have to be quiet,” your teenage daughter's excited yet cautious voice is barely heard from the room next to yours, while hushed shuffling and quiet giggles softly echo through the walls, “sh, shh!” she giggles again, pressing her pointer-finger against her boyfriend’s mouth.

you and hotch know that your daughter has a boyfriend, but you’ve never properly met. she’d rather stick with sneaking him in her window every now and then for the privacy and until she’s comfortable for you and hotch to finally meet him. however, this particular night, they seem to be having a hard time keeping quiet.

from beside you, hotch awakes with a start, ears keen to the whispers through the walls, and eyes momentarily wide with fear with the thought of someone dangerous being in the house. without hesitation he climbs out of bed, his protective instincts high on alert while making his way toward the suspicious voices that echo throughout the house. in the quiet hallway, hotch contemplates grabbing a household weapon, his mind entertaining thoughts of danger. however, as the voices become clearer, recognition dawns on him. one of the voices undeniably your daughter’s and the other, a teenage boy’s.

“i am being quiet,” the teenage boy’s hushed assurance emits through the walls, reaching hotch’s ears, causing his frown to soften as he continues to listen.

“my parents are in the other room,” your daughter responds, nervous of being caught but giddy nonetheless, “i swear, if you get us caught.” she warns, but hotch can practically hear the smile, no doubtly reminiscent of yours, curled on her face.

“they won’t even know i’m here.” the teenage boy reassures her with a smirk reminiscent of hotch’s.

hotch makes his way over to your daughter’s bedroom, his steps quick and quiet in hopes that his presence in the hallway goes unnoticed. before he opens the door he hears a quiet thud and soft voice from the other side. hotch’s lips curve into a gentle smile, already knowing what is happening. when he opens the door, greeted with a nervous grin on your daughter’s face and an open window, all of his suspicions of her boyfriend’s presence are confirmed.

“hi, dad,” your daughter greets, nervously tilting back and forth on her heels with her hands clasps behind her back.

“honey, is there someone else in here?” hotch inquires, his gaze piercing but gentle, a knowing smile teasing at his lips.

a nervous grin adrons your daughter’s face as she tries to divert attention, “there’s no one in here but me, dad.” she replies only for there to be a soft thud coming from underneath her bed. a quiet, “oh, shit,” emits from the hidden figure under your daughter’s bed and her eyes widen momentarily, before quickly composing herself in front of hotch.

“then what was that?” hotch’s questions, crossing his arms and feigning seriousness.

“the monster under my bed?” your daughter responds with a nervous raise in her tone, attempting to weave a tale connecting to the imaginary friend during her childhood.

“oh?” hotch raises an eyebrow, playing into your daughter’s little white lie.

“yeah, you know, you’re the one who told me to make friends with him.” your daughter shrugs, an air of nonchalance in her response, yet a hint of mischief lingers in her eyes as if she knows that hotch sees right through her playful lies.

“and did you ever find out his name?” hotch asks, maintaining the delicate balance between parenting and understanding.

“james.”

“well, does james make you happy, sweetheart?” hotch asks, his voice softening.

“yeah,” your daughter admits, her smile betraying the joy in her heart, “he does.”

“then i think james is perfect for you.” hotch concludes, embracing the realization that your little girl is growing up.

your daughter’s smile widdens and her eyes gleam with happiness and hotch can’t help but see so much of you in her, “i love you, dad.” she says, the sincerity in her words tugging at hotch’s heartstrings.

“i love you, too.” hotch replies as your daughter makes her way over to him in order to hug. they share an embrace full of trust, love, and understanding of the situation, “make good choices.” hotch adds after the two of them pull away, his voice a mix of fatherly concern and pride. you daughter nods, before kissing her dad’s cheek and waiting for him to leave her bedroom.

hotch makes his way back to your shared bedroom, the muffled whispers of your daughter and her boyfriend creating a playful ambiance in the air. as hotch sits on the side of the bed, the night is lit by the glow of the bedside lamp. sensing his return, you’re already awake, and without a word, you silently join him on that side of the bed. your arms envelope him in a comforting embrace, wrapped securly around his shoulders before placing a tender kiss on the side of his neck from behind, the softness of your touch an unspoken reassurance.

“i think i just found our daughter with a boy under her bed.” hotch confesses quietly, leaning into your touch, and eager to hear your reaction.

“what?” you exclaim, a mix of surprise and amusement in your voice.

“yeah, when he bumped his head, she said it was the monster hiding under her bed.” hotch explains, a chuckle escaping his lips.

“oh, she can do better than that.” you reply, laughing softly against hotch’s neck, slowly allowing your arms to slip from his shoulders to hug tightly around his waist.

“yeah… should i have kicked him out?” hotch wonders aloud, seeking your opinion.

“she’s old enough to make her own decisions,” you respond seriously, hugging him a little tighter to show him that you’re there, “you did good, honey.” you add for reassurance.

“i don’t know if i’m ready for this.” hotch admits, a hint of vulnerability in his voice.

“me neither but we face it together, always.” you affirm, your love and support unwavering.

“always.” hotch echos, nodding his head before turning it to kiss you, the tender exchange, unexpected but very much welcome, expressing love that transcends any challenges.

“let’s go back to bed.” you suggest and hotch nods, allowing you to pull him back under the covers and snuggle close to his side.

suddenly, a loud fit of giggles followed by a subsequent shush emits from the room next to you, a soundtrack to the unfolding chapter of parenthood. you and hotch glance at each other from under the covers, knowing smiles plastered across your faces.

“monster under her bed alright.” you remark, the laughter now echoing through the walls of both rooms.

masterlist ❧ aaron hotchner masterlist ❧ taglist

thank you for reading, my darling! remember to like! reblog! and comment! i’ll give you a smooch if you do, ily! send requests to my inbox!

tags: @ihrtmasong

alwaysmoncheri © ─ all rights reserved. please do not repost/translate/copy any of my work.

#my works ──★ ˙ ̟🎀 !! #masterlist #aaron hotchner angst #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner smut #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner one shot #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner scenario #aaron hotchner criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds #aaron hotchner fic

[luveline]

Would KILL (not you) for a bit of Hotch rn.

Like just started dating, all new and neat. Shy reader at home while Hotch is at work and is having a lonesome girls night, face mask, pizza, dancing, the whole thing. Hotch then pays an impromptu visit. Pls and Thankyou

Love you you’re amazing 💕

thank you for your request! hotch x shy!reader ♡

You're tucked up on the couch trying not to get face mask in your pizza, or cheese in your face mask, when the doorbell rings. You drop your slice back into the box, eyes widened of their own accord. There's no way you can answer the door, not when your hair's sweaty from your latest karaoke dance routine, you're in your ratty pyjamas with a hole in the collar, and your face is blue. It's not happening.

You turn the volume down on your TV, sink down on the couch, and pray whoever it is didn't hear you laughing at your own Freddie Mercury impression. That would put you in an early grave, you'd die from embarrassment alone.

There's a heavy rap at the door. Your phone starts ringing on vibrate beside you. You slide off of the pillows and onto the floor, grabbing your phone and answering with as much grace as you can.

"Hello?" you ask.

"Hey, are you home?" Hotch's voice comes thick and steady through the speaker, and you swear you can hear a hint of amusement you'd rather have missed.

"Is that you, at the door?" you ask, knowing it is, and knowing this is the worst day of your life.

"Is that alright? I brought wine. I tried to call, but it wasn't going through, and you said I could come by whenever, now that we're–"

"Yeah," you say, getting to your feet. You're breathless suddenly, because you're very attractive boyfriend is at the door, and he's only been your boyfriend for a week —though he'd 'courted' you for far longer— and seeing him is a delight no matter how flustered he can get you. "It's alright, of course it's alright, um, uh, just– Aaron, I'm not very presentable."

"Could I be the judge?"

You look down at your fluffy socks. "Yes, I suppose so."

You go to the front door and open it. There's an abject moroseness to your actions, like defeat. This is where Aaron realises he's made a mistake, and he breaks up with you, and it breaks your heart forever. He really is handsome.

"Oh," Aaron says, standing on the short stone step outside of your house with a bottle of wine in hand.

"Sorry," you say, cringing.

"You're blue."

"Yes. I'm blue."

Aaron tilts his head slightly to one side, and his resting stern face lightens. "You look cute."

It's like being winded. He might as well have slapped you flat in the chest with the front of his wrist. "Thank you," you say, hoping that the floor will miraculously collapse beneath you and the earth will swallow you whole.

"Can I come in?" he asks, head still tilted. "I've missed you so much."

"You have?"

He laughs like this is extremely funny as you step back to make room for him inside. The bottle of win gets put on the sideboard that houses your shoes, and before you know it you have arms wrapped around you. Aaron gives perfect hugs; they aren't too tight, and they aren't too loose. His cheek rubs against your temple.

"You'll get blue on you," you say, trying to push him away.

And when he pulls back, you're right. Blue face mask has transferred from you to him, wet on his chin but quickly drying. You try to scrub it off of him with your thumb but the colour spreads around and makes an even bigger mess.

"Oh, sugar, I'm sorry," you say, your hands all over his face.

"You missed a spot," he says.

"Aaron, I've missed lots of spots."

"A particular spot, right..." He holds your chin between his thumb and forefinger and leans in for a long, chaste kiss. "There," he says, pulling away.

He has face mask on his cupids bow and the tip of his nose. You blink, dazzled, and prompt a laugh from your unsually smiley boyfriend.

"Cute," he says again, with an air of finality. "Want to order in?"

"I already got pizza."

"Oh, good. I thought with all the singing you might’ve been too busy."

If your face wasn't blue you'd drop it into your hands and weep. Aaron twines your fingers together, leading you into the living room for more pizza, blue chin and all.

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner one shot #aaron hotchner scenario #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner x you #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds #criminal minss x reader #hotch #aaron hotch hotchner #shy friday

[lovesclinic]

UNPROFESSIONAL ┊late at night, you and hotch get unprofessional

✧˖*°࿐ hotch x fem!reader

warnings: unprotected sex, use of sir, praise

It was late into the night, the third day on the the case when you heard a knock on your hotel room door. "Hey, um, sorry I'm coming to you so late"

You looked at him, surprised by the knock but curious. You opened the door, slightly nervous as to what he wanted at this hour. As the door opened, you saw him, looking down, already dressed in his pajamas. "What's up, boss?"

He looked up, his piercing gaze meeting yours. "I want you to come with me." He said, with a dominant tone that hinted at something more.

You followed him, wondering what was going on. As you entered the room, you saw that it was dimly lit, with a large king-size bed dominating the space. He closed the door behind him and locked it, leaning against the door as he took in your curious expression.

He hesitated for a moment, taking a deep breath. "I just...I need your help on something. We're on a case, and there are some things I can't quite figure out. I trust your eye for detail." He paused, taking another deep breath. "Can I trust you?"

“Of course," you replied without hesitation, already sensing the seriousness of the situation. You stepped back, inviting him into your room. He closed the door behind him, still looking uncertain. You moved towards him, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

You felt a mix of excitement and nervousness at the prospect of helping him with the case. You followed him into the room, where he handed you a stack of files. "I need you to make sense of this.

You walked him over to the table where you kept your notes and evidence from the case. You picked up a picture of a crime scene, pointing out certain details that had caught your eye. As you talked him through it, you noticed him growing more and more tense.

He looked at you, his gaze penetrating and serious. "I need your help to make sure things are done right. The team's safety is at stake. Can I trust you to help me?"

It's late, and I know we shouldn't be doing this, but I promise, it's important." He pulled you into a hug, his strong arms wrapping around you. You could feel the tension in his body begin to ease.

As he walked past you, his hand brushed against your lower back, a soft dominance that sent shivers down your spine. "Let's sit down," he suggested, guiding you to the couch.

As he moved across the room, he kept his eyes on you, studying your body language. He moved behind you, his hands reaching around to grasp your hips, pulling you close against him. He leaned in, his lips close to your ear. "I need you to focus on the details,"

“Sit down, I'll be right here," he instructed you, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. As you began to go through the files, you could feel his presence looming over you—a mix of soft dominance and anticipation that sent shivers down your spine.

"I see what you mean," he finally said after some time had passed. "This changes everything." He took a deep breath, his mind clearly racing with implications. Then, without warning, he rounded on you—not aggressively but firmly.

"Thank you", he murmured gratefully, his voice thick with emotion. You moved closer, pressing your body up against his, your hands sliding around his waist. You could feel the tension easing from his body, replaced by a warmth that spread between the two of you

You sat down beside him, feeling the warmth of his body as he leaned into you slightly. You opened up your laptop, ready to help him with whatever it was he needed. The case file appeared on the screen, and you began going through it carefully, pointing out details that caught your eye.

"Why didn't you bring this to my attention sooner?" His voice was calm but held an edge of frustration. Despite the tension in the air, you couldn't help but feel a strange mix of arousal and fear from his dominance.

“I need you to understand something," he said forcefully but quietly. "This is important. If we don't solve this case, people could get hurt." His eyes bored into yours, challenging you to meet him halfway.

Hotchner watched you intently, his gaze never leaving the screen as you navigated through the case file. The room felt charged with an electric energy, both from the intensity of the case and the closeness they shared.

You met his gaze steadily, swallowing hard. "I... I wanted to be certain before involving you," you admitted, trying to maintain your composure. "I didn't want to distract you from the other aspects of the case."

He pulled you closer, one hand sliding up your spine, fingers tangling in your hair. You reached up, wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. His lips met yours, and you moaned softly, feeling his desire for you.

"I know you're dedicated," he continued, "but we have to be smart about this too. We can't afford any mistakes." His voice was steady, unwavering—a testament to his leadership skills.

As you looked back into his eyes, you couldn't help but feel the weight of his words. His intense gaze seemed to penetrate deep into your soul, demanding honesty and commitment.

That's interesting," he murmured, leaning in closer to get a better look at what you had highlighted. You could feel his breath against your neck, sending shivers down your spine.

“I'm with you," you said finally, your voice barely above a whisper. "Whatever it takes."

“You're so fucking sexy", he whispered against your lips, his voice husky with desire. You nipped at his lower lip, and he groaned, deepening the kiss. His hands wandered over your body, teasing and exploring.

"I know you're working hard," he added, softening his tone slightly. "But we need to work smarter too. We can't afford to miss any more crucial details." His voice was low and steady, carrying an unspoken trust in your abilities.

you felt the heat burning between you, your bodies pressed together, aching for a release. Your hands moved to his belt, unbuckling it and sliding it off his hips. He gasped as your fingers encountered his semi erect cock, already leaking pre cum.

"You were right to be cautious," he acknowledged, taking a step closer to you. "But next time, don't keep something like this from me." He gave you a penetrating look, making you feel both small and impossibly vulnerable under his intense gaze.

As the kiss broke, you gasped for air, your heart racing. You looked up at him, your eyes locked on his. He leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear. "I want you so bad", he whispered, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine.

You returned his kisses with equal fervor, your hands exploring his body just as eagerly. You pushed him gently against the wall, pinning him there as you continued to kiss him passionately.

You couldn't find your voice, unable to look away from him as he loomed over you. His dominance was palpable, yet there was an undercurrent of something else—something deeper and more complex.

"I... I understand," you managed to say, your voice shaking slightly. You couldn't help but feel his dominance intensifying, making you both aroused and scared in equal measure.

You broke away from the kiss, trailing kisses along his neck and collarbone. Your breath hitched as his hands slipped under your shirt, tracing patterns on your bare skin. You pulled him closer, and he obeyed, pressing his body fully against yours.

You felt the heat between your legs intensify as he pushed you up against the wall, their bodies flush together. He teased your ear with soft kisses and whispers, "I need to see how much of a good girl you are."

His hand moved down to your thigh, gently pushing your panties aside. He took a step back, still holding onto your shirt, leaving you exposed and vulnerable. His eyes met yours, filled with lust and anticipation.

You arched into his touch, needy and eager for more. You bit your bottom lip, trying to control the whimpers that threatened to escape as he continued his teasing. "Yes, sir", you whispered back, feeling a thrill of anticipation and submission coursing through you.

You bit your bottom lip, trying to suppress a moan as he continued to watch you. You couldn't wait for him to take you; you wanted him inside you more than anything else in that moment.

You bit your lip, trying to maintain composure under his intense gaze. Taking a shaky breath, you nodded slightly, giving him permission to proceed. His fingers traced along your folds, teasing the sensitive skin before finally entering you.

You watched as he stepped closer, his fingers tracing along your sensitive folds. You arched into his touch, needing more. He smiled, his eyes darkening. "You're so wet for me," he whispered against your skin.

“Good girl", he praised, his voice rough with desire. He reached down, undoing your pants and pulling them off in one swift movement. He smirked at the sight of your wet pussy, his fingers tracing the outline of your sex through your panties.

“Come here, baby," he commanded softly. You obeyed without hesitation, moving closer to him until you were pressed against his hard length. He groaned softly, and his hands slid up your back, holding you tightly against him.

“So fucking wet for me", he growled lowly, his fingers moving in and out of you with a skillful rhythm. He leaned in, capturing your lips in a bruising kiss while his other hand gripped your ass, pulling you closer to him.

He pushed you down onto your knees, feeling his arousal against your back. His hands found the button of your jeans, and he unbuttoned them slowly, knowing it would drive you crazy with anticipation.

“I'm going to spank your pretty little ass now." His words were like a soft command, his dominant side showing through. You felt a mix of fear and excitement as he spanked your ass, each slap echoing through the room.

Despite the sting, you moaned, unable to hide your arousal. He smirked, knowing he had you right where he wanted you. "That's it, baby," he growled, his fingers finding their way inside you.

"I want to hear you moan, baby." He whispered, nipping at your collarbone. You moaned softly as he moved his hands under your skirt, sliding his fingers over your bare flesh.

As the spankings continued, you couldn't help but moan out his name. It felt both punishing and arousing. He pulled you back against his hard length, grinding his hips against your ass. "That's it,"

You bit your lower lip, trying to stifle your cries of pleasure as he began to thrust deeper into you. The head of his cock brushed against your sensitive entrance, teasing before finally pushing inside. He groaned, filling you up slowly.

He slid a finger inside you, watching your face as he slowly began to thrust. You moaned, rocking your hips back into his hand. "You like that, don't you?" he asked, his voice low and dirty.

he growled into your ear, "show me how much of a good girl you are." His fingers found their way back to your slick folds, teasingly rubbing against your clit. The sensations were overwhelming, and you couldn't hold back any longer.

You moaned as he touched you, pushing closer to his fingers. He gripped your thighs, lifting you up and onto the nearby desk. He spread your legs, exposing your moist pussy to his touch. "You're so fucking eager,"

Feel how much you turn me on." He groaned, nipping at your earlobe, sending shivers down your spine. You could feel him growing harder against your back, and it excited you even more.

"Please, do you", he said, pushing closer still, his cock rubbing teasingly against your panties. You moaned, reaching back to grip his shirt. "Say it," he purred, pressing his lips to your neck. "

You panted, your heart racing as he continued to tease. "I'm yours," you whispered, biting your lip. He growled low in his throat, a mix of desire and possession lacing his voice. "That's my good girl."

With one swift move, he lifted you up, wrapping your legs around his waist. His hands moved to your panties, sliding them down your legs as he stepped out of his own pants. Finally, he positioned himself at your entrance, his hard length pressing against your slick folds.

“Now, let me hear you beg for it." He purred, slipping a finger beneath your panties. You arched into his touch, moaning softly. "Please, Aaron..." you breathed.

You gasped, arching your back as he slipped his fingers under your silk panties, tracing patterns on your bare flesh. "I...need...your..." you murmured, barely able to get the words out between gasps.

"Your what, baby?" he asked, nipping gently at your earlobe. "Do you need me to touch you here?" he asked, his fingers brushing against your clit through your panties. You shuddered under his touch, your breathing ragged.

“Yes," you whimpered, your hips bucking against his hand. "Please, I need it." He chuckled softly, pulling away from your ear to look into your eyes. "You're such a good girl."

"Please," you cried, pushing against him. "Touch me." Aaron growled in approval, slipping his finger under the waistband of your panties and sliding them down your legs, freeing your throbbing clit from its confines

"Tell me," he urged, his voice low and demanding. "Tell me how much you need me." You whimpered, feeling your body tremble with anticipation. "Say it," he ordered, his fingers moving faster, teasing your sensitive nub.

With that, he slid his fingers deeper into your panties, finally touching your clit directly. You screamed out his name, your body bowing off the floor under the intensity of his touch.

He groaned lowly, his fingers finding your clit immediately. He started to massage it gently, circling his index and middle finger around the tiny bud. "Tell me if it's too much,"

"Tell me what you need," he whispered, his lips at your earlobe, his breath warm against your neck. You buried your fingers in his hair and arched against him, whimpering. "Fuck... I need... your cock..."

"I... I need you so much," you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper. His fingers stopped their teasing dance, instead pressing firmly against your clit. "Aaron," you moaned, arching into his touch. "Please, I can't take much more."

"I need you...to..," you moaned, arching into his touch. His other hand slid up your thigh, teasing the lace of your panties. "Please," you begged, your voice breaking.

Aaron felt you trembling beneath him, his fingers moving faster against your sensitive flesh. "Cum for me, baby," he whispered, his other hand moving to grip his cock firmly through his pants.

He reached between your legs and pulled your panties down, lifting your hips up so that he could access your pussy. His fingers sought out your clit, circling it gently at first, then more roughly, his free hand holding your waist to support you.

With a low growl, Aaron picked you up and pinned you against the wall, their hips grinding together. His other hand slid under your skirt, slipping your panties down your thighs and tossing them aside.

"Perfect," he purred, gripping the waist of your skirt firmly and sliding his finger across your slick entrance. You moaned, the noise a mixture of need and anticipation.

“So fucking tight," he groaned, thrusting his fingers deep inside you. You gasped at the intrusion, your walls gripping his fingers tightly. "You're mine," he growled, his mouth finding your neck once more.

"Aaron," you whispered, your voice trembling. He smiled, a predatory glint in his eyes. With one swift motion, he lifted your skirt and pushed your panties aside, leaving you exposed and vulnerable.

His fingers traced your entrance, teasing and prodding gently. "You're so wet for me," he whispered, his voice rough with desire. With one swift motion, he pushed past your folds, penetrating you deeply. You gasped, feeling him fill you completely.

His hips met yours in a rhythmic dance, their bodies slapping together with each deep thrust. His other hand found one of your breasts, massaging and pinching the nipple, sending shivers down your spine. "Feel how much you own me,"

His hips started to move, slowly at first, then picking up speed as he thrusts rhythmically inside of you. Every inch inside of you felt like heaven, and you found yourself meeting his thrusts with moans and gasps of pure pleasure.

“Fuck," he groaned, pulling back slowly before pushing back in again. You moaned, wrapping your legs around his waist, arching into his touch. His thrusts grew deeper, harder, each one sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body.

“Oh fuck," he growled, his hips moving in a punishing rhythm. You could feel him building inside you, the tip of his cock brushing against your sensitive walls.

Their bodies moved together in a primal dance, fueled by lust and need. His mouth found yours, claiming it roughly as his hips pistoned faster. You tasted his desire on his lips, mirroring the feelings coursing through your veins.

As he felt you nearing climax, he picked up the pace, his thrusts becoming almost violent. Your nails dug into his shoulders, your moans turning into pleasured cries. Finally, he felt the telltale tremors within you, signaling your orgasm.

“Fuck, I'm close," he gasped, picking up the pace. You moaned, digging your nails into his shoulders as the intensity of the pleasure built inside you. "Come for me, baby," he urged, his hips pumping faster.

“Oh fuck," he growled, pushing your back against the wall. His hips moved in a blur, his cock pistoning in and out of your pussy. You could feel him getting closer, the way his hips pumped harder, faster.

The heat of his skin against yours, the roughness of his hands on your hips, it all combined to send you spiraling out of control. You could feel yourself getting closer and closer, your nails digging into his shoulders as you tried to hold on.

Then, with a final, deep thrust, he came inside you. His cock pulsed, filling you completely as he let out a long, low moan of satisfaction. His body shook against yours, their combined weight holding you against the wall.

"Harder," you cried, your voice hoarse with desire. He obliged, thrusting into you harder, deeper, his movements growing more frenzied. You felt the beginnings of your climax building, the tingles in your core turning into a burning need for release.

With one final thrust, Aaron buried himself to the hilt inside you, groaning loudly as he came, his seed shooting deep into your womb. You moan loudly, your own orgasm ripping through you, body shuddering under the intensity of the pleasure.

Slowly, he pulled out of you, his cock slipping wetly from your pussy. He leaned forward, pressing his forehead against yours, their breaths mixing in the air. His heartbeat was racing, his chest rising and falling rapidly under your hands.

As he regained his breath, he leaned down, his forehead resting against yours. His eyes were intense, boring into yours as if trying to see something deep within you.

With a groan of completion, Aaron thrust into you one last time, his hips slamming against you like a pounding heartbeat. You cried out as your body shuddered in ecstasy, your orgasm taking you completely by surprise.

"That's it," he whispered, his voice rough with desire. "I'm yours." His hands slid down to your hips, holding you gently but firmly. He leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a soft, lingering kiss.

His thrusts became even more frantic as he reached his own climax, filling you with his hot seed. He growled low in his throat, his hips slamming into yours in a rhythm that felt primal and forbidden. This was addicting—too addicting.

Finally, he stilled, his hips still pressed against yours. You were both panting heavily, his sweat mingling with yours on your skin. You looked up at him, feeling a wave of desire wash over you again. "More," you breathed. "Please. Again."

Fuck," he groaned, collapsing against you. You panted heavily, your heart racing. You knew you couldn't let this happen again. But god, it felt so good.

Hotch's breathing was ragged as he finally pulled out of you, leaving a trail of their mixed fluids on your inner thigh. He rolled off of you, still panting heavily.

He thrust one last time, and cried out, his voice raw with pleasure. You heard him grunt in satisfaction as he pulled out of you, his soft cock pulsing with each thrust. He held you close for a moment, his heart hammering against yours.

He ran a shaky hand through his sweat-dampened hair. "I shouldn't have done that," he said after a moment, his voice barely above a whisper. "It's... it's against protocol." The admission only seemed to make him look more vulnerable.

"It's too dangerous," he continued, his voice barely above a whisper. "Our lives are complicated enough without adding this to the mix." His dominant exterior resurfaced, masking the vulnerability he'd momentarily shown.

As you accept the files, a mix of concern and determination etched on your face, you assure him once more that you'll do your best. "I'll go through these thoroughly, Hotch. I promise."

His hands trailed slowly down your back, stopping at your hips. "You feel so fucking good," he mumbled, his breath hot against your ear. "I don't want this to end."

#aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotch hotchner #hotchniss #ssa aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotch imagine #hotch smut #aaron hotchner smut #aaron hotchner scenario #aaron hotchner series #emily prentiss #criminal minds #derek morgan #david rossi #criminal minds gif #penelope garcia #jj jareau #bau #cm smut #cm incorrect quotes #cm posts #cm rewatch #cm cast #jennifer jareau #cm punk #criminal minds smut #writerscommunity #request #x reader

[hotchfiles]

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ❝ synchronized with you ❞ ─ a darling, in any life blurb

pairing: aaron hotchner x reader. summary: the red thread between two people destined to be together may stretch and tangle, but those ties will never break. or: car sex is for the young and the reckless. you both are none of those. content warnings: making out, foul language, suggestions of sex, MDNI, this is a 18+ blurb. actually no one interact nor talk to me for several hours i don't know what i'm doing. word count: 500

your efforts of saying his name were easily muffled by your own panting, aaron’s hands gripping hard on your ass, enough to leave a mark, you were sure. his lips went on with the same roughness on your neck and on your shoulder, leaving love bites you would’ve to conceal with makeup the next day like a teen.

your hips unintentionally pressed your body down to his, needing the friction of his rough jeans on your thin panties. the movement doesn’t go unnoticed by him and one of his hands quickly go from gripping on your flesh to pulling your dress up, out of the way, hanging just at the end of your back. his thumb immediately touch your pulsing cunt over the soaked spot on your underwear.

you can’t help but moan into his ear, not loud enough to anyone outside the car hear, but enough to get him harder under you. his mind drifts from a moment in a flashback, the wet dreams he used to have as a hormonal adolescent come to him, the times he jerked himself off thinking about your lips glued to his, he smirked to himself, arousal flooding him in the knowledge that he would finally have you. 

or so he thought, your hands leaving his hair to push him back to the seat, flat to his chest making him groan loudly in disappointment. “d’you really think i’m about to let you fuck me in a car?” aaron’s pleading eyes say one thing only, yes, he thinks so, he hopes so. “first of all, indecent exposure is illegal in the state of virginia.” you’re being purposefully cruel, appealing to the law abiding side of him while simultaneously maintaining pressure on his crotch. but it was true, a law professor and a supervisory special agent from the fbi being caught and being put on a sex offender list was not the ideal love story path. “second of all, i want some romance, you old man.” he rolls his eyes with a huff, simply because once more, you were right, it wouldn’t be right to have the first time you slept together be like some quicky a broke college couple would have during finals week. 

“get the fuck off of me then, woman.” aaron replies finally, chuckling and pushing you off of his lap and into the passenger seat. “let’s go back to my apartment. should i get you some flowers on the way, your majesty?” he asks, uncomfortably pulling up the material of jeans from his thighs, readjusting himself as he mentally tried to get rid of your hard work. 

you deny the need of the flowers, knowing he was teasing you, but he gets them anyway, and candles, and a nice wine, and he makes sure to prep his bedroom in the most romantic way he could in 20 minutes, just before pulling you to him and pushing you down his bed, more than ready to make you his as well.

#lari writes sometimes #dont look at me #aaron x reader #aaron x you #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch x you #aaron hotch imagine #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds x reader #aaron hotchner smut #aaron hotchner scenario #hotch x reader #hotch x you #hotch smut #hotch x y/n #hotch imagine

[whereireid]

˚ · . 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐀𝐒 𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐘.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: aaron hotchner x plus!sized fem reader | masterlist

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: After months of waiting, you finally give Aaron what he's been craving most — you.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: established relationship. fluffy icknames (honey & sweetheart). words of affirmations, declarations of love. age gap. nsfw content; first time(s) stomach bulge. aaron has a huge cock. p in v (soft sex, making love) oral, fingering, virgin!reader, nipple play.

Trapped between the plush mattress and Aaron's hard chest, you let out a quiet hum as you feel the pad of his thumb softly glide over your knuckles. There's something so blissfully domestic about being intertwined with your boyfriend in the late evening; him still in his work clothes, and you dressed in your satin pink nightgown.

His large, muscular frame presses into yours as he embraces you, and his tongue flicks out to wet his lips as he drinks in your appearance. You had been laying in his bed when he returned home from work, having just put Jack to sleep, and you were waiting up for him. Aaron had bid goodnight to his sleeping son, a content smile on his lips as he traipsed towards his bedroom, and he swears that his heart had stopped beating in his chest when he saw you.

The pink, satin chemise that you're wearing has forced his eyes you since the moment that he stepped into the bedroom. It's a perfect fit, tracing the curves of your body, slightly outlining the small pudge of your tummy as you sit. He didn't even have time to change — he simply toed his shoes off before he collapsed atop on you, his nose nuzzling into the crook of your neck as he breathed your scent in, desperately trying to calm the throbbing ache in his trousers.

You're not quite ready for what he wants to do to you, yet and he knows that — but you're just so delicious, gazing up at him with hazy eyes, feigning innocence as your nails run over the lightly buzzed sides of his hair.

"You know, I've been thinking about you all day," Aaron murmurs sweetly, a small smile on his lips as you squirm beneath him. His eyes flick down to your thighs, mesmerised by the way your chemise rides upwards, exposing your plump flesh. "Couldn't get you out of my head."

Your heart feels tight in your chest as his hands slide down your body, his knee delicately parting your thighs as kisses you. There's an affectionate expression fleeting across his features, and you smile up at him shyly. "I thought about you a lot, too," you say quietly, biting back a smile as he presses a soft, drawn-out kiss to your lips.

He pulls away, smiling down at you, and your skin blazes with warmth. He's so handsome, so big — you can see the way his biceps strain against his shirt as he leans over you, and you try to hide the way your breath hitches as his knee rubs against the black lace panties you're wearing beneath your gown.

"I love you," Aaron says, between the gentle chaste pecks he delivers you. His hands gently squeeze at your waist through your nightgown, his voice rumbly as he adds, "so much."

Warmth blooms beneath his touch, and you desperately hope that he doesn't think too much into the way you squirm beneath him as he kisses you. "I love you," you repeat back to him, your voice as sweet as honey. Your nails gently scratch at his scalp again, and you watch as his eyes flutter shut as you touch him. His hands stay fixed on your waist. "Was work okay?"

Aaron hums softly, and his stubble skims against your cheek as his lips trail peppery kisses from your cheek, down towards your jaw. "Work was work," he responds, no hostility in his voice; just slight hesitation, "but I don't want to focus on work right now, honey. Not when I've got such a sweet thing like you beneath me."

Honey. The sound of his husky voice makes you tingle, and your breath hitches in your throat as he delivers hot, wet kisses to your neck, suckling at your pulse point softly. The sensation makes your cheek flush with warmth, and Aaron smiles into your neck as he feels your pelvis softly grind into his knee.

"Oh," you whisper, your cheeks glowing with warmth as he nips at your neck. A knot forms in your stomach as his tongue flicks over the skin he had just bruised, in an attempt to soothe your neck. "So, you want to just focus on me instead, Aaron?"

"Yes, honey," he responds, but he doesn't let up, his teeth softly nipping at your neck, his hands trailing down towards your thighs. An ache grows in his trousers as he feels your plush thighs beneath your gown, an insatiable desire beginning to bubble in his gut as he continues to kiss down your neck. "I just want to focus on you, if that's okay."

For the first time in minutes, Aaron pulls away from you. You can see the genuine concern circling in his dark brown eyes, a sharp contrast to the usual black sheen, as they study your face. Your eyes flick down to his lips, your heart pumping fast as he squeezes your thigh gently.

"Yes, please," you say, your voice eager, "that's okay, Aaron."

Your voice is soft and delicate, and it's all the affirmation that Aaron needed. He lets out a quiet groan of approval, before dipping his head again, his focus zeroing in on the purple mark which has begun to form on your neck. "My sweet girl," he murmurs as his tongue laps over the bruised area, "You're just as sweet as honey."

The phrase causes butterflies to bloom in your stomach, and you let out a quiet moan of agreement as his hands begin to ride up your gown.

Sweet as honey. It was what Aaron had described you as on your first ever date, and when you had flustered and squirmed as a result, he made it a habit to use the phrase whenever possible.

You don't stop his wandering hands, instead, you invite him to touch you more. As his lips trail along your chest, just short of where your gown rests above your plush breasts, you open your legs shyly. Your motions are timid, and you allow for his hands to roam closer and closer to the area where you need him the most.

His fingers twitch against your inner thighs, but they don't move. Aaron's focused on making you feel good, and he doesn't want to pressure you into anything. He knows that you're still a virgin, and he understands that whilst you trust him, you may not be ready to commit fully yet.

"Aaron," you whisper, your hands falling to clutch at his biceps, "More, please."

"More, please?" He repeats, gazing down at you through half-lidded eyes. He pulls away from you somewhat, though you're still pinned beneath him, and he observes your face. "What do you mean, honey? Use your words."

His hands gently press against your thigh, and a breathy moan catches in your throat as he carefully rocks his knee against your clothed cunt.

"This," you say, "but more."

An amused expression flitters across Aaron's features, and you have to close your eyes as you feel him press his knee into you with more pressure. You feel slightly flustered, pinned beneath him, ashamed that your body reacts so needily to his every touch.

He hums. "You can't be coherent, honey? That's okay. I think I know what you want." He cocks his head, a small grin on his lips as he shuffles downwards slightly, pushing your gown up softly.

His knee abandons your cunt, and you pout, opening your eyes and looking down at him. Aaron has nestled between your thighs, and as you lock eyes with him — his hazel irises are sheathed by his pupils, which are dilated massively as a result of his lust — you can't help but shudder.

"You always know what I want,” you say quietly as he looks at you for permission, and your body trembles as his fingers delicately push your wet panties to the side, "please make me feel good, Aaron."

Your voice wobbles slightly, and your tone is syrupy; sickly sweet, causing the ache which pulsates in his trousers to worsen. He coos. "How can I say no when you ask me like that?"

As if to praise you for your obedient tone, Aaron tilts his head down. His eyes flutter shut as he dips his head between your thighs, and his tongue softly glides over your sticky slits. "Sweet as honey," he growls instinctively, the sound rumbling in his chest as he pushes his mouth against you. His nose presses into your pelvis as he slides his tongue around your pulsing pearl, "my favourite dessert."

The feeling of his tongue rolling skilfully against your heat has you panting, your back arching into his touch. Being treasured by Aaron is your favourite past-time, and whilst your relationship has never gone any further than the innoceuous pleasure of worshipping one another with your hot mouths, you desperately crave more.

Perhaps, you're now ready for him. You can feel the strain of his trousers as his crotch presses into your ankle. Aaron eagerly laps at your cunt, and your walls flutter as his lips suckle at your clit. He relishes in each desperate breath you take and the sounds of your lewd, quiet moans spilling out into the open air.

"Aaron," you mewl, your toes curling as a familiar warmth begins to bubble in your stomach, pleasure spilling over you in waves, "I'm gonna—"

"It's okay, honey," he praises, his voice sickly-sweet as he grinds against you softly, his mouth hot against your heat, "you can let go for me. I'm right here."

"I need — ah," you gasp quietly, your thighs beginning to tremble as he continues to worship you, "more, Aaron. I need more, please!"

As though to make a point, you grind against his palm, and he hums in acknowledgement, the sensation sending a vibration pulsing over your clit. Skilfully, Aaron parts your slits further with his fingers, and he softly pushes two of his digits inside of your cunt, your walls sheathing him instantly.

You're tight around him, and he's careful as he softly curls his fingers inside of you, his tongue simultaneously working on you. Desire rolls through him as your thighs tighten against his head, your plush flesh warm against his ears as you shake and tremble.

You writhe above him, and Aaron can't help but groan as he feels you convulse. You taste so delicious, so sweet as your cream floods his tongue, his senses heightened by your overwhelming orgasm that crashes over you.

The knot inside of you frays and snaps, and you eagerly tug at his hair, your back arching. Your breasts spill from your chemise as you do so, and you whimper softly as Aaron keeps lapping at you, his tastebuds dancing with the sweetness of your cum.

“So sweet,” he praises again, pulling away from your cunt once your thighs dull their trembling.

You can tell that he’s going to pull away from you — and whilst you love that he respects your initial hesitance to anything more intimate than the general exploration of one another’s bodies, you can’t help but want more.

"No," you murmur quietly, trying to steady your breathing and calm your racing heart. You reach out towards him, your eyes pleading and your chest tight with nerves. "I'm ready, Aaron. I need more. I need all of you."

"All of me?" He repeats, and his deep brown eyes stare into yours, "Do you mean—"

"—I'm ready, Aaron. I want you. I'm ready."

Truth be told, you're not sure if you'll ever be ready. Aaron's so big, and you struggle to take him in your mouth. The thought of his cock burrowing inside of your cunt strikes fear inside of you, but you simply can't wait anymore.

He's been patient, and he's been kind, and it's been six months — you're unsure of any other man who would wait that long, and the fact that Aaron has been so forbearing makes your heart feel full.

"You're ready?" He breathes, adjusting himself so his trousers are pressing against your soaked panties, and he swears that his body sparks with electricity as you nod vigorously. "You're sure?"

"Yes," you affirm, "I'm sure. I want you so badly, it hurts.”

A few seconds pass, and you're worried that you've said the wrong thing, so you part your lips to speak. Your words are silenced by his mouth pressing against yours, his lips entrapping your own in a feverish kiss.

Wisps of his hair tickle your face as he kisses you. His warm hands gradually begin to pull your chemise up, and as the cool air nips at each inch of exposed skin, goosebumps rise. You fluster as Aaron pulls away from you, his eyes darting over your frame, which grows more exposed with each upward pull from his hands. He tugs, further and further, until he pulls the gown over your head.

"Oh, sweetheart," he murmurs, and his hands instantly dart down to grope and grab at your body, "you have no idea what you do to me."

You gasp quietly as his hands slide over your waist, trailing over the pudge of your stomach. He lets out a quiet groan as he gives your plump flesh a small squeeze, dipping his head to kiss you again, his tongue running over your swollen bottom lip. His hands are gentle against you, but his movements blaze a fire beneath your skin, and you find yourself growing hot and needy.

"Stop teasing," you breathe against his lips, "I need you now."

Aaron smiles against your mouth, before he pulls his lips away, trailing wet kisses across your jaw. "I need to make sure that you're wet enough to take me, honey," he utters quietly, "I don't want to hurt you."

"I'm wet," you say in response, shivering as his hands part your thighs slightly, "I'm so wet. Fuck, Aaron, please."

He laughs as your hands pull at his tie, smiles when your fingers begin to shakily unbutton his shirt.

"Somebody's eager," he comments, and he sits so that it's easier for you to undress him, and his hands abandon your body in favour for unbuttoning his trousers.

You're frantic, but he's smooth; calm and collected. Aaron lets his eyes explore you, and he can't help but palm himself through his trousers as he drinks in your flushed body.

Every curve, every soft indentation of flesh makes him feel feral. Your body, so generous and cushy, drives him wild, and he chokes back a groan as he slides his eyes over your soft stomach and your wide hips. The sight of you makes him ache, and he couldn't be more thankful that you're too inebriated by your own lust to notice the extent of his.

There's a fire in his gut, and his hands shake somewhat as he finally rids himself off his trousers. Aaron's face blazes as he notices the patch on his underwear, evidence of his own lewd desire, but you're too busy pushing his shirt off of him to notice.

You're trapped beneath him, pinned, and as his clothes become abandoned on the floor, he dips his head down, and he burrows his head in your chest. His tongue glides over your right breast, his hand palming the left, and you gasp as you feel his teeth nip at your sensitive bud.

"Do you know what you do to me, honey?" Aaron asks as he worships your body, delivering kisses over your pillowy chest, burrowing his head between your cleavage. He pinches your nipple softly, relishing in the way you writhe from his touch.

"I have an idea," you squeak out weakly, your thighs trembling as his hands slide down to pull at the waistband of your panties.

He shakes his head, looking down at you through thick lashes as he abandons your underwear to the floor. "No, you don't," he responds, and his head is instantly burrowed between your chest again, his hands trailing the curve of your waist and hips before he slides his palm between your legs, "you have no idea what you do to me."

A satisfied sigh glides past your lips as you feel his fingers glide through your sticky slits, and you eye him cautiously, your eyes zeroed in on the tight crotch of his boxers.

He's so hard, and you wonder if he's in any pain, because you are. You're pulsing between your legs, desperate to take him in, but he's being so sensual and considerate that it somehow makes you hurt more.

"You're so beautiful," he comments, and he adjusts so that he can slip his own underwear down. His voice is husky, and his hot breath fans against your ear as he murmurs, "I could look at you forever, honey."

"You mean it?"

"I mean it." Aaron's voice is serious, weighty, and he smiles down at you softly. His eyes are focused on your glistening face, wet from tears of pleasure and sticky from the summer heat. "You're just perfect."

You flush under his gaze, and you whimper as he kisses you again. Aaron's lips are soft this time, gentle as he moulds his mouth against yours. You let out a quiet gasp as you feel his hands part your thighs further, the sensation of his cock flexing against your folds making you shudder.

He's so big, but you're so wet, and you hope that it's enough to stop the sting. You wish that you had more experience, you wish that you could take cock perfectly, but you can't, and you and Aaron both know that.

You cried the first time he fingered you, so this is going to hurt.

"I'll take it slow," Aaron's voice pulls you from your thoughts, "and if it hurts — tell me, honey, and I'll stop, okay?"

You flick your eyes up to meet his. You instantly drown in his hazel irises, which are so round and soft and considerate. You nod your head. Your throat feels a little bit dry, and you feel somewhat hazy, but his words are so gentle and reassuring that you beckon him in.

"Okay," you respond, your voice wavering.

Aaron presses a soft kiss to your neck, his hand giving your hip a gentle squeeze. "I love you," he murmurs quietly, gently sliding his cock through your sticky folds, trying to keep his breathing even as he sees your eyes flitter shut.

"I love you," you mumble back to him, trying to stay lax as his hand slides over your stomach.

"Are you ready?" He asks, his tongue wetting his lips as he squeezes your flesh softly. He can feel precum dribbling out of his slit, and he's desperate to burrow deep inside of you, to feel you swallowing his cock.

His lips tickle your neck again, and you whine softly. "I'm ready. Please make love to me, Aaron," you say shakily, your arms wrapping around his neck for support, your fingers riding through his hair, "I want you."

Your confirmation was all he needed.

He keeps his hand against your stomach, his eyes focused on yours as he gently slides his cock inside of you.

You're so tight. Your walls are pillowy and soft, insatiably warm and wet, and he lets out a quiet groan as he feels you tighten around him.

You whimper below him. Aaron's eyes are soft, and they carefully scan yours. You can tell that he's enjoying this, even if right now he's hardly moving — just slowly pushing his hips forward, encouraging your cunt to swallow him inch by inch.

"Hurts," you say shakily, the sting bottoming out any feeling of pleasure. The only satisfaction that you feel right now is knowing that Aaron's enjoying himself, and the fact that your cunt is slowly beginning to feel fill.

His brows pinch together as stills his hips. "You want me to stop?"

You shake your head. "You're not even in all of the way yet," you say warily, "keep going, please?"

Nodding his head slowly, he continues to push himself inside of you. Your walls flutter around him and his breath hitches, his body tensing as he palms your navel, feeling your stomach bulge slightly as you finally take all of him in.

Aaron stills his hips.

Your chest heaves, and your eyes prick with tears. It hurts, and it feels intrusive, and you know that it's supposed to hurt — but this much, really? You curse yourself somewhat for losing your virginity to a man whose cock is quite literally huge, and you exhale shakily as you meet his eyes.

"Is this okay?" He asks, and he's so caring that your bottom lip trembles slightly. He can see tears prick at your eyes and his heart drops in his chest, worrying that he may have hurt you.

His hand comes forward, swiping away the stray tear which slips from your eyes. "It's okay," you affirm, his warm palm cupping your cheek, "I'm okay. It just hurts, that's all."

"Do you want me to stay still, just like this?"

Your walls flutter around him as he speaks. He can feel how wet your cunt is, even when he's not moving. It's the most blissful thing he's ever felt in his entire life. Aaron wants to press against your navel again, wants to watch your plump stomach bulge further from his cock, but he restrains himself, because has plenty of time to do that; he has the rest of his life to do that with you.

Right now, all he needs to focus on is making you feel good.

"I want you to move," you say finally, tilting your head. Your nose brushes against his, and you give him a soft kiss. "Slowly, if that's okay."

Aaron gazes down at you through half-lidded eyes. Your heart hammers in your chest as you watch his dark brows knit together in concentration as he slowly begins to roll his hips into you, ensuring that his motions are gentle.

A warmth blossoms in your stomach. It's a different kind of warmth, and you feel the familiar feeling of pleasure beginning to shroud the pain of his intrusion.

"Right there," you choke out, your eyes screwing shut as his cock brushes against a particularly sensitive spot inside of you, "just like that."

A quiet groan slides past his lips as you praise him. He's doing good, and he bites down on his swollen lip as your walls tighten around him. His hands slides over your body, runs over your plump flesh lovingly. Aaron swears he could do this forever, just continuously fuck his cock into of you whilst simultaneously groping at your plump flesh. The way you moan and writhe beneath him is addicting, so beautiful, and he wants to worship you this way for forever.

Your breath hitches in your throat as he continues to softly roll his hips into you. His eyes are fluttering shut, and his hair is sticking to his forehead slightly, and he looks so good. The scent of sex and his cologne floods your senses, and you softly drag your nails over his shoulders, arching into him as his movements pick up.

He moans softly, and you screw your eyes shut, unable to look at him anymore, the pleasure growing overwhelming.

"Please," you beg, "more."

"I don't want to hurt you," Aaron whispers, and his voice shakes slightly. He grips at your hip to steady himself, the lewd sounds of your squelching cunt echoing around his bedroom.

"You won't hurt me," you say, and you look up at him, pressing your lips against his in reassurance, "I promise."

Aaron's jaw ticks, but he nods his head. His head lulls, his nose brushing against yours as he carefully begins to increase his speed. His hands linger at your hips, digging into the plump flesh softly, and he groans as your walls flutter around him again.

You're so wet. The sound of his balls slapping against your soaking cunt shrouds the bedroom, and you find yourself growing closer and closer as he moans against you. His cock hilts inside of you, brushing consistently against the area where you need him most.

You can feel the love that he has for you poking through. You feel it in every gentle squeeze he delivers you; sense it in the way that his eyes lingers on the soft jiggling of your breasts and your stomach. You don't feel insecure around him — you feel powerful, and you arch your back more to allow him deeper inside of you.

The sting is gone, replaced by an insatiable pleasure that devours you from the inside out. Aaron’s cock is perfect, hilting inside of you, and your walls squeeze him, milking everything that he's got.

You gasp. You feel warm and fuzzy, and your body tingles with desire. He keeps squeezing you, his hands enveloping your thighs as he pushes your legs up slightly. The position allows for a better angle, and you sigh contently as you feel him ride against the sensitive spot inside of your cunt.

Aaron's eyes scan yours, and you feel so overwhelmed, so beautiful. "You're so beautiful, honey," he murmurs, his eyes dragging down to study where your body meets, where the two of you become one. His breath hitches, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your thighs. "My perfect girl."

You flush wildly, your face burning with heat. He feels so good inside of you, and you moan against his lips as he kisses you again, gently, softly. You savour the taste of him, relishing in the fact that you can still somewhat taste yourself on your tongue, and your nails dig further into his shoulders as he rolls inside of you.

You're growing close. You can feel it in the way the knot inside of you is beginning to fray and break loose. Aaron’s lips stay pressed against yours, and he squeezes your trembling thighs reassuringly.

"It's okay," he breathes incoherently against your lips, "you can cum, honey. Be a good girl and let go for me, okay?"

Nodding your head, you allow yourself to lax, to succumb fully to the comforting feeling of him inside of you. His cock nuzzles against the most sensitive spot inside of you, and then your eyes flutter shut, an orgasmic bliss beginning to pulse through you.

You whine as you cum around him, your walls tight, fluttering around him. You tremble, but he keeps you steady, his hands gently pushing into the flesh of your thighs as he allows himself to grow sloppy in his thrusts. Aaron sighs contently as you paint him with your cum, his balls and thighs growing wet from your squirt, and he can't hold back anymore.

You gasp as you his cock leak inside of you — you feel his hot, ropey cum paint your walls, and it feels good; intensifying your own orgasm as you shake below him, your walls fluttering, your cunt swallowing all of him.

His hands stays tight against your thighs as he finishes inside of you. Aaron's lips graze over your neck, the sensation causing you tingle and shy away from him. He groans quietly into the crook of your neck, nuzzling into you as his hips still.

Your chest heaves and your heart races. Your body is tingling with the aftermath of your orgasm, and you pause before you purposefully tighten around him, trying to gauge his reaction. He cries out into your neck, and your stomach flutters in response. You milk his sensitive cock softly, your walls tight around him. His hips jolt into you, and you gasp as he hilts inside of you again.

Aaron's thankful that his balls no longer feel heavy, that the ache is dulled. He presses lazy kisses against your neck, his hand softly trailing up and down your burning skin. You're so warm that it's comforting, and he wants to stay like this forever, moulded inside of you.

Your motions are lazy as you drag your nails up and down his back, goosebump rising in their wake. His head stays nuzzled in your neck, and his breaths come slowly.

“Was that okay, honey?” He asks finally, his hair tickling you as he presses a soft kiss to your cheek. “I’m sorry if I hurt you.”

You let out a breathy laugh. “You didn’t hurt me, Aaron,” you murmur softly, looking at him with adoring eyes, “if anything, you did the opposite. That was really good.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. And, uh, I’d like to do it again with you sometime.”

The cheeky grin that you send him doesn’t go amiss, and he chuckles, giving you a small kiss. You smile as he sinks down, burrowing his head in your chest, his hands squeezing your hips and waist softly.

You could stay like this forever.

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #hotch #hotch x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner scenario #aaron hotchner oneshot #aaron hotchner one-shot #aaron hotchner one shot #aaron hotchner headcanon #aaron hotchner headcanons #aaron hotchner hc #aaron hotchner hcs #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner dialogue #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner x reader fanfiction #womnsfw

[ssaaaronmontgomery]

Can I request for hotches wife having a asthma attack in 4am middle of the night and she woke aaron up

Warnings: Asthma attack, fluff, poor writing💀 and I think that's it :)

Word count: 462

Pairing: Hotch x fem!reader

A/n: Definitely! I'll try my best on this as it's not something I really have any personal experience with but I did a little research so I had a better understanding. I hope this is okay, it was a little rushed so I apologise if it's not very good. It's not my best work and it's short but I hope you enjoy<3. This was not proofread so there might be a couple mistakes.

Forever Tags: @greg-montgomery @boredelle

You were having trouble breathing. A familiar feeling. But one that was not welcome. Your husband sleeping next to you with soft snores leaving his lips was completely unaware of your current situation. You wanted his help but you hated waking him up.

You were coughing and wheezing as you reached for your inhaler that normally sat on your bedside table at night but you couldn't find it no matter how much you felt around. That only made matters worse now. Another fit of coughs came on and then you felt a hand on your shoulder.

"Sweetheart?" You heard Aaron's voice. It was tired and sleepy. You looked over at him and he heard you wheeze and struggle to breathe. "Honey is it your asthma?" You nod as you cough again. "Do you need your inhaler?" You nod again "It's not there." He understands. He knows where you keep it.

Standing up he turns the light on and walks over to your side of the bed. It takes him a few seconds but he quickly finds it on the floor in front of your side table and grabs it, handing it to you. It must have been knocked off at some point in your sleep. You take it from him and he sits on the edge of the bed with one hand rubbing your arm telling you it'll be okay as he tries to calm you as best as he can. It's far from the first time he's seen this happen. It's happened a number of times and every time it worries him but he always stays calm for you.

After you're able to breathe better he gets in bed next to you again and holds you. "How do you feel?" You can hear the concern in his voice. "I'm feeling better." You sigh and lean into him as he rubs your back. He always does whatever he can for you. He just wants you to be okay. "Are you sure?" He asks as he kisses your forehead. He always needs to be sure. And if you're sure, then he is too. It's something he takes your word for because you have more experience with what's happening to you than he does. And he trusts that if you're not okay that you'll tell him so he can get you the help you need.

You nod again and he gives your shoulder a gentle squeeze. "Thank you, Aaron." He shakes his head a little. "You don't need to thank me, Honey. I'll always help however I can. I love you." You know this but you still thank him every time. You smile slightly. "I love you too." He places another kiss on your forehead and holds you close until you fall asleep again.

#aaron hotchner #hotch #aaron hotchner x reader #hotch x reader #hotchner #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner scenario #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner imagine #fic request #hotch✨ #cw asthma attack

[thedelusionalbitchgianna]

"Girls without boyfriends how's life?"

#criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds oneshot #incorrect criminal minds quotes #criminal minds incorrect #incorrect cm #incorrect quotes #criminal minds aaron hotchner #criminal minds spoilers #criminal minds quotes #aaron hotchner one shot #aaron hotchner oneshot #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch hotchner #aaron hotch imagine #aaron hotch fanfiction #aaron hotchner angst #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner criminal minds #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner headcanon #aaron hotchner scenario #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner fic

[rreids]

LATE NIGHTS • A. HOTCHNER X READER

innuendo / allusion to sex; soft, domestic, and fluffy; gn!reader; shaving the other person; mentions of a case but no details; ~1.3k words; i think that's it!

Aaron knew he was busy. More than he’d like to be.

More often than not, he would come home to you asleep on the bed, clear signs of your defiance and attempts to stay up visible in the bedroom — lights still on, a book open and un-bookmarked next to your hand, jewelry and socks still on.

He expected much of the same today, creeping in quietly as he put up his gun and badge before taking a shower in the guest bath, using clothes he’d left in the guest bedroom. 

Sometimes, he prefers sleeping in there. He doesn’t like to wake you up, and since he always rises early, he’ll slip into bed before your alarm or make you breakfast and apologize with gentle kisses for his absence.

There’s a sleepy, muffled voice but he hears it, dropping the towel he was using for his hair on the counter. The hallway light has flickered on, and you stand sleepily at the entrance to the bedroom. 

“You’re home,” you mumble, heaving a happy sigh and wrapping your arms closer around your shivering body. “I thought I heard you come in, and then, the shower, I was sure…”

“Hey,” he breathes out, like the illusion will break if he speaks any louder, stepping towards you. Aaron waits. You wait before letting out a heavy sigh and shuffling forward. “You weren’t asleep?”

“You were gone for over a week, Hotchner,” you scold, voice thick with emotion as you nuzzle into his chest and take in the lingering scent of his body wash and shampoo. “I missed you. Sue me.”

“There’s no grounds for that,” he exhales the words in a rush, smiling fondly as you trail your fingers over his arm before reaching up to his jaw, running your thumb over the beard growth. “I missed you, too, sweetheart,”

“I know,” you smile. “Your phone bill is going to be even worse than normal this month,” you tease, voice light and pleasant. He missed it more than ever on the flight home, unable to justify calling you so late.

He hums, pressing a fluttering of kisses to your hairline. “Bed?”

“You’re not done getting ready,” you state it like it’s obvious.

And to you, he guesses, it is. Even with the time apart, you knew him better than anyone. 

“Really? Why do you say that?” He can’t help the teasing lilt to his voice.

“I can smell your aftershave in the bathroom, the beard growth is more than you like — ever —, and your hair is still dripping.”

Aaron realizes then the water is dripping onto your skin. He tries to step back but you cling firmly to him, arms wrapped around his waist. You walk him into the bathroom and sit him on the closed toilet lid, tilting his face by his chin.

He lets you guide him with your fingers, staring up at you with a soft smile.

“You look…” you pause, not knowing the words. “Nothing. Can I?” 

You pick up his razor and he nods, lashes fluttering as his gaze follows your lips when you purse them in consideration.

“First…” he interrupts, and you hesitate, putting the razor back down.

“First?” You echo.

Aaron tugs you closer, sliding a hand under your shirt and resting his warm palm on the cold skin of your lower back, smiling as he feels the goosebumps erupt under the gentle traces of his thumb. 

Your eyes close without much thought and he kisses you deeply, sweetly, and he knows it’s just as overwhelming for you as it is for him. At least, he hopes, and the soft sigh that he swallows confirms it enough for him as you straddle his lap.

He kisses you until his lungs burn for air and he doesn’t back up far, forehead resting on yours as he swallows every sweet breath and soft sound from you.

“I look like I’m in love with you,”

You blink at him before realizing he was finishing your thought from earlier. “You are,”

He grins. “I am,” he affirms, quickly schooling his face to be neutral as you carefully put shaving cream and wet the razor. “Be careful,” he cracks an eye open to look at you, rewarded with the very pout he wanted to elicit.

“You get hurt more at work than here, my love,” you mumble. “The worst that’s ever happened is me scratching your back up or you burning your hand on a pot. Be still,”

Aaron flushes. He likes when you mark him, and you both know it.

The casual intimacy in your warm weight on top of him as your fingers gently and delicately caress the contours of his face combined with the way your breath ghosts over his skin is maddening. He thinks his heart might explode out of his chest.

It’s the longest few minutes of his life, and he finds himself holding his breath without realizing, sighing and relaxing once you lean back.

“There’s my man,” you coo. “Shaven and sleepy-eyed.”

“I’m not bright-eyed?”

“Never,” you laugh. “Well… sometimes, actually. You can be youthful and sweet.”

“Can be…” he mumbles bitterly, but there’s no bite like he intended, not as sleepiness crawls into his voice. 

“You’re always kind, Aaron,” you nudge your nose against his. “But you don’t like to show it. And I like you as you are, you know that.”

He squints against the bathroom lights, suddenly far too bright and overwhelming. Your features are soft and bright with love, and he leans down to press kisses to your collarbone.

“Aaron,” you say sharply. He looks up, offended. “In the morning. You look dead on your feet.”

“I’m sitting.”

“You’ve spent too much time with Reid.” You climb off him. “C’mon, up, up. Plenty of time for kisses later.”

He follows you blindly, grateful that you flick off the lights, even if it makes him stumble to keep up with you in the darkness you’ve plunged him into. You shove him onto the bed and he looks up at you, wide-eyed.

“Thought you said in the morning?”

You scoff. “You’re impossible,” you find a clean pajama shirt and use it to towel his hair dry, knowing he would whine about the chills once the ceiling fan cooled the water. “Go on, get comfortable,”

With a huff, he leans back, watching you flutter about and put up your book, take off your jewelry, put his phone where it can charge and be close in case he gets a call. 

His frustration vanishes once you strip, but one warning glare is enough to silence the innuendo on his tongue. When you turn, he realizes it’s one of his old shirts, one he wore on one of your first dates, threadbare and exhausted. 

“You look…” Aaron pauses. He’s not huge on compliments, hates the way he trips over the words. He lets you climb in next to him and kisses you, no deeper intention. “I love you,”

“I love you, too,” you promise. “Always will.”

He nods, and when you make him into the little spoon he feels like crying. He’d told you — a lot — how hard this case was, and the gentle tracing of your fingers over his spine washes away everything.

“Goodnight,” you whisper.

He can’t manage words back, throat choked up, but he squeezes your hand. You smile and kiss his shoulder blade.

“I better wake up to your gorgeous face,”

“You got it, boss,” he murmurs, letting sleep wash over him in waves. The last thing he remembers is your fingers lacing with his.

to all my hotch fans..

#my works #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner oneshot #aaron hotchner scenario #aaron hotchner fanfiction

[ddejavvu]

Wait Omg the thought of bau!reader and Aaron being secretly married but reader forgetting to take their ring off?? (Opposite to Spencer’s LOL). Everyone instantly zeroes in on it like ?????

You're not sure why you're on the receiving end of Prentiss's cheshire cat grin, but she's somewhat of an office prankster, so you assume that when you open the top drawer of your desk, a rubber band will fly out and whack you in the forehead. When no such thing happens, and JJ greets you with her own wide-eyed smile, you know something's wrong.

You retrieve the handheld mirror that you keep stashed away in your purse, trying to appear nonchalant as you glance over your face for any possible makeup smears. There's no smudges of eyeliner down your cheeks, mascara isn't dotted on your eyelid, and your lipstick is perfectly lined around your mouth; nothing is wrong.

You reach up to flick a wayward strand of hair away from your eyes, nothing big enough to attract the stares you're getting, but undesirable nonetheless. When you do you catch the glint of your wedding ring in the fluorescent lights of the bullpen, and your stomach drops.

That's not supposed to be there.

You snap the mirror closed and slide the ring off of your hand but it's too late, and both girls are snickering at your piss-poor attempt at concealment.

"Sooo," JJ hums, leaning over her desk with her chin propped on her hand, "When were you gonna tell us about that?"

"It's just a ring," You scoff, shoving it into the depths of your purse. You'll regret that later, when you're digging through napkins and lotion to find it, but for now evasion is key.

"Please," Emily scoffs, "That rock looks like it could pay my rent five times over. Are you seriously married?"

"No!" You gush, and you're sure they regret phrasing it as a question, because it gave you the opportunity to lie in answer, "No, I am not married, it's just a regular ring."

"Yeah, that's why you hid it from us," JJ drawls, "Morgan, did you know about this?"

"What?" The man's head pops up from his desk, "What do I know?"

"JJ, please-" You beg, but Prentiss is the one who answers, "Y/N's hitched!"

Derek's brows shoot comically high on his face, "Married-hitched?"

"No! I just wear rings sometimes," You insist, "Guys, I'm not married, this is ridiculous!"

"No one wears a ring that big unless it comes from a man who's equally endowed," Prentiss winks, that devilish grin on her face ever-present, "Come on, don't make Penelope deep dive, who's the lucky man?"

"What am I deep-diving for?" Garcia peers around the corner of the kitchenette, and you shoot Rossi a pleading look where he stands behind her. He'd been on his way back to his office, but apparently your drama has piqued his interest.

"She's married." Derek jerks a thumb at you, and it actually drops Garcia's jaw; you've always delighted in how cartoonish her reactions could be. Now, though, it provides enough silence for Rossi to speak, setting one of his hands on Penelope's shoulders.

"Don't waste your talents, Penelope. You don't need a deep dive to figure it out."

"Dave," You start, your voice sharp, but JJ cuts you off.

"Come on, you told Rossi before you told us?"

"She didn't tell me," Dave shakes his head, amusement glimmering in his eyes. You know he's absolutely ecstatic to be the one to let the cat out of the bag, and you resign yourself to slumping back in your chair as he changes the BAU forever more with two meager words: "Hotch did."

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner scenario #aaron hotchner oneshot #aaron hotchner one-shot #aaron hotchner one shot #aaron hotchner headcanons #aaron hotchner headcanon #aaron hotchner hc #aaron hotchner hcs #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner dialogue #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner x reader fanfiction

[ptersparkers]

So ive been reading Spencer R. x hot wife, could You do Aaron with hot wife reader too? 🔥

omg it’s so funny that you sent me this because i was talking to @hotchsdoormat about a lil idea i had before i saw this in my inbox x

***

As your husband and boss, Aaron knows you can handle yourself. That doesn’t mean he likes seeing men try to get in your pants.

The BAU is on a case in Virginia and he’s grateful he doesn’t need to travel. The lead detective introduces himself as Det. Franklin and because neither you or Aaron want to confuse the officers, you introduce yourself with your maiden name while Aaron introduces himself as Hotchner.

He regrets it on this particular case. Aaron’s not blind either. He knows men and women alike look at you because of how you carry yourself. You’re naturally charismatic, talkative, and have the ability to make all heads turn when you walk into the room.

Usually, it doesn’t affect him too much. He knows he’s lucky because you come home to him every night and sleep next to him when you’re away on cases. He’s the only one who sees and touches your body, and he’s the only person you reach for when you wake up in the morning.

He knows this, but it doesn’t stop his blood from boiling when he realizes Franklin is hitting on you.

“Y/N, he’s trying to get into your pants,” Aaron says in a hushed tone after pulling you into the interrogation room.

“Look, honey, I know. I don’t like it either but we need to focus on the case before the unsub kills again.”

“I know,” Aaron mutters. You kiss him sweetly and he seems to relent.

“When this is all over, you can have me any way you want. Screw Franklin. I know you’ll treat me right.” You squeeze his bicep and wink before leaving the interrogation room. Aaron clears his throat, needing a moment to regain his composure.

When you catch the killer, the team feels liberated and opts to spend a few hours at a local bar to celebrate. Aaron’s given the team the night off since the jet won’t be ready until the following morning and no one complains.

But Franklin doesn’t relent. Aaron watches him corner you despite your clear boundaries. He lets you be like you asked, knowing fully well you’re capable of taking care of yourself, but he can’t help himself when he hears Franklin proposition you.

“Let’s go back to my place and celebrate. I bet you’re a real slut in the sack.”

Aaron strides to where Franklin is standing and pins his back against the wall, bracing his arm on Franklin’s throat. The sound of him slamming Franklin against the wall is enough to catch the team’s attention and they look at the scene that unfolded in front of them, amused at the way their boss is over protective.

“Don’t talk about my wife like that.”

He lets Franklin go after staring at him a second too long. The detective retreats into his office, no doubt embarrassed.

Aaron’s cheeks are red and you up your hand along his bicep and give him a squeeze. The team stifles a laugh and when JJ asks if you guys are coming to get drinks with them, it’s Emily who speaks up.

“I think Mom and Dad need some alone time.” Aaron’s cheeks flare up while you wink at her.

Everyone files out of the precinct and when Aaron finds himself planted in his spot, you touch his chest and tug on his tie.

“Come on, handsome. Feel like celebrating with me tonight?”

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x oc #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner blurbs #aaron hotchner imagines #aaron hotchner scenario #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner oneshots #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x oc #criminal minds x you #my writing #ask #anonymous

[junipers-archive]

Sweet-Tooth

Word Count: 700

Includes: fluff, fluff, fluff, you have a sweet tooth and one day while staying late at work Aaron find out and can't help but listen!!

Its late. Very late; way above your pay-grade to be staying at the office late. And yet here you are stationed at your desk, you're almost sure you're the only one left.

That is until you hear a noise from the office's kitchen, and really you're not one for believing in ghosts but in that moment you had your doubts...

"Hello? Is anyone there?"you start toward the area when you bump into someone.

"y/n..." Of course, of course Aaron is the only one left here. His hands ghost his collar in attempt to fix his non-existent tie out of nervous habit. "What- uh What're you doing here so late?"

In truth, you'd been nodding off every hour in attempts to catch up on paperwork and had been living off of valentines day chocolate you'd bought yourself. But you were so not telling that to your boss, no matter how cute and approachable he looked with no tie, ruffled hair and slightly open button-down.

"I-I was just doing some paperwork"

"Right...do you need some help?"

Yes. "N-no, just uh maybe some sugar?"

He steps aside to let you through, "You mean coffee?"

"No I mean..." You should've just stayed at your cubicle. "I have this thing about sugar, its the only thing that works to keep me awake."

He raises an eyebrow at this so you continue. "I-well ever since I was little I could only stay up late if I had some type of sugar, I tried all types of other ways, coffee, energy drinks you name it, I've tried it."

He's leaning against the counter now looking concerned though you swear you could see a twinge of amusement in his eyes.

"And...none of these...methods have worked?"

You smile then, "Have you ever seen me drink coffee in the mornings? You could say I'm a tad sweet-toothed"

"And you don't have any sugar on you now?"

"I-uh I ran out, i had these valentines day chocolates but I finished them a few hours ago..."you start to mumble at the end of your sentence, realizing how ridiculously pathetic you'd sound if you told the truth

He hums in response and you now understand how awkward you've made the encounter and begin to retreat to your cubicle. but of course the universe would never allow you such an easy way out.

"Y/n."

"Yea Hotch?" In fear of him seeing you smiling like an idiot for the hundredth time at just hearing him say your name, you keep your back to him.

"Go home. You can work on the paperwork tomorrow."

Now you turn. "Its really no big deal, and I'm behind, and its my own fault for-"

"Go home, and thats an order." Except he doesn't say it like its an order, he says it with his lopsided-Hotch smile that sends butterflies swarming in your stomach.

"Fine" you breathe out your reply, pretending you're in a rush to get out of his sight to hide the fact you're once again grinning because he cares.

✧✧✧✧✧

The next day you're called into on a case at the way-too-early hour of 5:30am.

The next hours are filled with the reviewing of said case and the gathering of go-bags.

It isn't until you're on the plane nodding off as Derek speaks about whether or not the team in dealing with a sadistic serial killer that you catch Hotch watching you.

But he's not just watching you, he's headed towards you.

Before you can react or right yourself He's handing you a box of 'see's candies chocolates'.

"I-uh I thought you might need a pick-me up seeing as you were at the office so late last night."

Is the Aaron Hotchner blushing right now?

You accept the box wordlessly, trying to to ignore the team's stares as Hotch returns to his seat and you stuff your mouth full of the chocolate covered caramel bites.

That is until Reid speaks, "I'm sorry did-did I miss something?"

And with that the silence ends as JJ smacks him upside the head, making everyone on the plane laugh.

Emily Whispers in your ear the one thing you were sure you'd never here from any of them.

"I think you just charmed Hotch with your sweet-tooth"

#aaronhotchner #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x yn #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner one shot #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner scenario #aaron hotchner oneshot #aaron hotchner one-shot #aaron hotchner headcanon #aaron hotchner headcanons #aaron hotchner hc #aaron hotchner hcs #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner dialogue #aaron hotchner x reader fanfiction #aaron hotch x reader #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds #cm #cm aaron #cm fandom #cm fanfic #aaron hotch fanfiction

[honeybrowne]

Hiiii can i request a blurb with miscommunication? Say reader deals with some insecurities and something hotch says comes out wrong and makes the confidence he instilled in her vanish and hurts her feelings. like hes embarrassed about their relationship but doesnt elaborate that its because hes like 10 years older than her. thank u <3 <3

absolutely, thank you for requesting! i am so so sorry this took me forever to finish. angst is literally right up my alley, but a lot has been going on in my personal life, and my interests have been shifting. hotch still holds a very large piece of my heart, however, writing hasn't been coming easily to me for a while. with that being said, thank you for being patient and i hope this was worth the wait 🫶🏼

(the word count on this was a lot higher than i intended, so it's a little lengthy lol)

Aaron was half asleep when you slipped into bed beside him, smiling sleepily as you nestled yourself into his chest.

"I missed you," he murmured into your hairline.

You tilted your head back for a kiss, his lips soft against yours, and the air he breathed warm and comforting. It caused you to melt further into him, nearly becoming one as you got lost in the feel of his kiss, the taste of his mint and charcoal toothpaste still lingering on his tongue.

"I wish you would've come," you said, pulling back to look at him.

Another smile tugged at his lips, his thumb rubbing the exposed skin of your back. "Honey, we've talked about this. I don't like getting in the way of your time with your friends. I'm already stingy with you enough."

He punctuated the statement by tightening his hold on you, his attempt to make you laugh falling severely short, and you figured he knew where this conversation was about to go. It had been a few weeks since the last time you brought it up, but it was only a matter of time before you'd mention it again, being very persistent about what you wanted.

It's a quality he really adored about you, but in this case, he wished you wouldn't be so headstrong.

"They want to meet you, Aaron," you reminded him. "I don't understand why you're so hesitant."

There were a handful of reasons he could give you explaining why he was reluctant to meet the people you cared about, none of which would be good enough in your eyes. He has tried to dodge telling you them for months at this point. He would rather keep things as they are than potentially damage his relationship with you, but he was beginning to feel like avoiding the conversation was already doing that. Your consistency was getting harder to work against, and it was only a matter of time before you'd get frustrated and give up altogether.

"Baby, we can discuss this in the morning," he tried compromising, hoping it would be enough to hold you off a little longer.

You huffed in frustration. "No, you always do this. You deflect every time I bring it up, and I'm tired of it. Just tell me why you don't want to be seen in public with me."

"That's not what this is about—"

"How is it not?" you challenged. "I've tried to get you to spend time with me out of the house. To meet my friends and family, but you just won't do it."

He sat up, tiredly rubbing at his face. "It's embarrassing," he expressed. "That's why."

You weren't expecting that reason, and your heart sank quicker than you could formulate a response. "Oh... I-I didn't know you felt that way," you murmured, voice weak.

"Just thinking what people might say about me being with you makes me reluctant."

You blinked away the tears in your eyes, trying not to break down. "I get it. You don't have to explain yourself. Thank you for telling me."

He sighed in relief, and you were grateful that the limited amount of light hindered his ability to profile you. It would've been obvious that you were barely holding it together had he been able to read your body language and see how your lip trembled despite your teeth digging into the soft flesh.

"Let's go to bed," you suggested. "I know you're tired."

You continued to fight off your tears till you knew he was asleep, waiting for the steadying of his breath before letting out your sadness. It only took a few minutes for him to fall into a deep sleep, his hold on you loosening as his body relaxed completely. Staying next to him only made you feel worse about what he confessed, and you carefully slipped out of the sheets to go to the living room.

It felt like your heart had been ripped from your chest and stomped on repeatedly.

What about you was so bad that he was embarrassed to be seen with you? Did he think you weren't pretty enough? He had always combated your insecurities by preaching that society's standards didn't matter and that he loved you just the way you were, but this contradicted everything he ever said.

He had played a significant part in you feeling more comfortable in your skin and had taught you how to love yourself and all of the flaws you believed you had.

Now, all that time and effort was for nothing. Just a few careless and callous words reversing all of it.

You weren't sure how long it took to cry yourself asleep, but you woke up just a few hours later to Aaron's panicked voice floating down the stairs, his footsteps following soon after.

"Honey, what are you doing down here? I got worried when I woke up, and you weren't there," he said, sitting beside you. "Are you okay?"

"Uh, yeah. I just couldn't sleep, and I didn't want to bother you," you half told the truth, offering him what you hoped to be a believable smile.

"You could never bother me," he whispered as he brushed some hair out of your face, getting a good look at you. "Are you sure you're okay? You look like you've been crying, baby."

He tugged you closer as he spoke, turning his body to where he was facing you directly. You shrugged in response, looking down at your lap as you tried not to let what he said get to you more than it already had.

"Hey, look at me," he pleaded. "What's wrong?"

You took a deep and shuddering breath, forcing yourself to look him in the eyes. "I know I'm not perfect, and there's probably someone out there that would suit you way better than I ever could, but what you said really hurt my feelings, Aaron."

His expression shifted from worry to confusion, his brows cinching together tightly. "What are you talking about?"

"You saying you're embarrassed to be with me," you cried, not bothering to stop the heavy tears from slipping down your cheeks. "I wish you would've told me that sooner so I would've stopped nagging you about it. If that's how you feel, why are we even together?"

You are an idiot, Hotchner.

"Baby, no," he quickly denied. "That was not how I meant it, sweetheart. I could never be embarrassed by you."

You grimaced, pulling away. "Don't lie to me."

"I'm not," he promised as he moved to kneel in front of you, holding your shaking hands in his own. "Listen to me; no part of me is embarrassed to be with you. I'm embarrassed about being so much older than you," he clarified. "Our relationship is unconventional as far as our age difference goes, and I would never want to subject you to being ridiculed for dating a man as old as I am. You are beautiful and young, and even I know I'm way over my head by being with you."

All you could do was stare at him, feeling so many different emotions while you processed his rambled explanation. You were relieved but also very confused that he could ever think that way.

"Don't say that," you pleaded. "I don't care what other people think. You always tell me that no one else's opinion matters to you but mine, and that's exactly how I feel. If someone decides it's 'wrong' for us to be together, that's their problem because being with you doesn't feel that way."

"Baby—"

"I'm not done yet," you said firmly, determined as ever for him to understand. "They all know about you. I always talk about you to my family and friends, and I've never been embarrassed about our age difference. They know, and they don't care."

He felt like an idiot. He should've known you wouldn't have set him (or yourself) up to experience embarrassment by blindsiding everyone. It wasn't bad that he was older than you, but he'd be naïve to think it wouldn't catch people off guard.

"Okay," he surrendered, leaning in for a quick kiss.

You hugged him tightly, nuzzling into his neck like you wished you could've been all night. "So... you'll meet them?"

He smiled at the hopefulness in your voice, pressing a kiss to your temple. "Yeah, baby. I'll meet them."

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner scenario #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner angst

[strawbeerossi]

I Can See You

18+ Content. Minors DNI

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Aaron Hotchner

Description: When a new agent joins the team, she's beloved by everybody and Aaron admires her dedication. He admires it so much that he fantasizes about her in every possible scenario to the point where he has to distance himself. One day, she confronts him.

Content Warnings: Power imbalance with leader/team member , reader is flirty with Hotch and loves seeing him flustered, he gets tired of her running her mouth, exhibitionism kink (kinda?), spanking, reader is gagged with a necktie, praise, degradation, fingering, unprotected sex.

Word Count: 2.6K

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Tags 🏷️ @beardedhotchh @pastanoodles11 @morgthemagpie @x0xonatalie

This has been rewritten twenty times. I had to post this before I deleted it all over again. So, I'm sorry in advance if it isn't like my usual writing.

Aaron Hotchner was the stoic, fearless leader of the Behavioral Analysis Unit. He took pride in his strength and dedication to his career, even if most people didn’t understand how he could pull countless hours in a career field that took a physical and mental toll.

His life revolved around his job, his son being his other top priority, even though he really couldn’t very well balance things the way he intended. His loyalty to his career took a good amount from him as well. It could drain his sanity and a divorce came out of it.

He was tough, keeping his composure through some of the worst things imaginable when most others would crumble under all the pressures of a demanding career as well as a failed marriage. However, it numbed him from the horrors, making him tense all the time.

That is, until Y/N showed up at the BAU for an interview to take over an available position. She was the top of her class at the academy. She was physically, academically, as well as mentally strong enough to handle the job and she had a backlog of receipts to prove it. 

Her life was spent with training, her father being a general in the United States Marine Corps, wanting his daughter to follow in his footsteps. 

Imagine his shock when she used every piece of knowledge she had in order to get into the FBI. 

It was a smart career choice for her. She could handle herself in the toughest of situations, being trained how to get through the most intense of scenarios. She also liked putting in her thoughts and ideas to a group who openly accepted them, nothing being shut out because she was the youngest of the team.

She was an asset.

Aaron had told her plenty of times how lucky they were to have her, how she was a tremendous addition to an already powerful group of profilers. She had a lot to learn but she was pretty well off. 

Y/N loved her career and her team. However, Aaron Hotchner piqued her interest. He was well known as the leader of the BAU who has had a rich career and he had many written articles and other pieces of information that retold the stories of the most intense cases he ever had to get into.

It didn’t help that the man was sex on legs. 

He was attractive, the smallest things he did captured her attention in such a way that there were vivid fantasies and daydreams of things they could do. She liked to think that she could show him things he hadn’t seen in years, if ever..

So, that was when she was planting subtle seeds. There were lingering touches and flirting that would make Derek Morgan blush. It was innocent enough, the casual flirtatious remark that would have the unit chief flustered, cheeks a shade of dusty pink.

The idea of being with a member of his team seemed wrong. Not only was it a ton of paperwork but it was also an H.R. nightmare.

It couldn’t stop him from fantasizing though. All the ideas he had about bending her over his desk, his tie forced into her mouth in order to muffle the cries and moans that would spill from her lips.

This was dangerous territory to tread. Yet he liked the game, the risk of it all. The problem was that he couldn’t very well just come on to her, the biggest risk factor being the word spreading across the office. That was the last thing either of them needed.

These vivid fantasies forced him into hiding, his office being the place he’d be able to be alone in. The same office where he’d glazed his knuckles with cum just thinking about the sheer idea of having Y/N under the desk, her lips enveloping his cock like she was made for it. 

It was one of those days where he had to hide away, the quiet nature of the office being contributed to paperwork being caught up on and files being put away. Aaron was doing his best, gazing at an open file while he was tapping the back of the pen against the desk. 

His mind was quite adventurous today, his cock hard and luckily concealed by the desk he was positioned at. All Y/N did was sip her coffee from a straw, her lipstick staining the metal straw from the tumbler as she was enthralled in her own paperwork. 

Somehow, that was enough to have him trembling in his office chair.

It was pathetic, like he was reliving the times of being a horny teenager who got turned on by damn near everything in sight.

However, it wasn’t long until he heard a knock against the door, gaze tilted upwards. That was when his worst fear entered the room. Y/N. The one who had him hard as a rock at his desk, the one who had been giving him hell for the months she’d been working there.

“Y/L/N. What can I do for you?”

“I wanted to drop off a file for your review.” Her words were soft as she held it up. “Also, can I talk to you?” 

Fuck.

“Of course. Shut the door.” 

The minute the door was shut, that was when that suffocating sexual tension was filling the room, so bad that he was sure he wouldn’t be able to breathe until she left. “What’s the problem?”

“Are you mad at me? Because you haven’t spoken to me. You actively ignore me.” Her boldness was something he expected, the woman not being one to lightly word anything. 

“Of course I’m not mad at you. I don’t see why you’d think I’ve been avoiding you.”

“You run straight to your office! Don’t bullshit me, Hotchner. What did I do?”

“Nothing! You’ve done nothing.” 

She didn’t believe him, eyes narrowing as she leaned back in the chair behind her. She was sure why he ignored her. Or maybe it was just a delusion she had where he actively wanted her just as badly as she wanted him.

“I see the way you look at me, Aaron.” 

“Excuse me?”

“You think I can’t tell? You think I didn’t notice the way you make it a point to brush against me? The way that you wait for me before you even attempt to walk down the hall?”

Fuck. She was a better profiler than he gave her credit for.

“I don’t know-”

“You think I also didn’t notice the way that you looked at me when I was sipping my coffee? The way that you just had to run into your office before anything could be noticed? Aaron, you’re a profiler. You should do better at hiding your reactions.”

The words had him flabbergasted, mouth open in disbelief from the indication that he’d be turned on by something as small as her sipping a straw. Too bad she hit the nail right on the goddamn head.

“This isn’t appropriate. I advise you to leave my office.”

“Walk me out. Or are you too afraid to show me how right I am?”

The silence after that was loud. It was like Aaron had to collect himself.

“That’s what I thought.” Y/N taunted, making the male finally stand up from his desk. That was what caused her to shut her mouth entirely, looking at her boss wide-eyed as if she’d just gotten in trouble.

“What? You’re not gonna talk anymore? I think you’re getting too smug with this.” He spoke, voice low as the tone of authority took over. He walked to the office door to lock it, lowering the blinds soon after to avoid the whole office looking inside.

“Nothing to say?” He asked, arms tucked over his chest as Y/N was slowly looking away. “W-well..”

“Pathetic. I knew you were all bark and no bite. It’s a shame.” He tsked, head shaking with disapproval. “Now get up.” 

Y/N was slow as she was standing up, her face flushing as she could feel arousal soaking into her panties at his authoritative tone, his eyes dark as he watched her body rise from the chair before her arms were behind her back.

“You’ve been pushing my buttons ever since you started with the flirting bullshit.” His veiny hands were moving to remove the tie from his neck, eyes watching her figure as she seemed frozen; a deer in headlights.

“I think it’s time to give a cocky little brat what she wants. Open your mouth.”

With an eyebrow raising, Y/N slowly let her mouth fall open. The moment she felt the tie being stuffed in her mouth, she barely had time to process what was happening before she was being bent over the desk.

There was a mess of files and other items that she’d landed on, head tilting to the side as she let her eyes stay on Aaron.

He looked at her with hunger, like a predator stalking its prey and ready to pounce at any given point. The normally beautiful honey colored irises were clouded over with deep lust, his hands running down her hips while he was situated behind her. 

“You need to be taught to respect your unit chief. I’m not gonna tolerate your behavior any longer after this.”

The woman was keeping her eyes on Aaron, body making an effort to push back against his for any ounce of friction. “Ah! No ma’am.” The man began, hand roughly coming down to give her clothed ass a rough slap. 

The sting had her moaning around the tie in her mouth, tears brimming her eyes from the pleasurable pain, body jerking when three more hits were coming down. “You’re not getting what you want. You are too entitled and I’m sick of it.”

His hands were moving to grip her hips, thumbs running over the skin under her shirt just to feel the warmth of her soft skin. “Let me know if you want me to stop at any point.” He spoke, tone hard yet his demeanor softened.

Last thing he was going to do was do anything that she was uncomfortable with. 

When there was an indication that she wanted him to keep up with his motions, his hands were moving to bunch up the skirt around her hips. Aaron’s eyebrows raised in curiosity. “Look at how wet you are.. I haven’t even done anything to you yet.” His hand was running up the back of Y/N’s thigh, continuing onward until the palm of his hand was flush against her clothed cunt, the warmth radiating against his hand as he was adding pressure, chuckling at the muffled whine.

“So desperate. Gonna fuck you with my fingers, think you can handle that?” He asked, finger slowly moving to push her wet panties to the side, thumb making its way to her clit, eliciting another muffled moan. As his hand was pulling back, he let his middle finger slowly run through her folds, the arousal generously coating his finger before he was slowly pushing it into her tight heat.

He could’ve came in his pants right there, mouth open slightly as he was greeted with warm, velvety walls that were tightening around the digit from just how desperate the woman was. “Keep still.” He warned, watching the hips try and rock against his hand.

“You were talking so much shit earlier. Now look at how desperate you are,”

The words caused Y/N’s body to shudder with anticipation of getting more than one finger, playing his game and cooperating.

“There we go. See what happens when you listen and you’re not combative and smug? I just might like you better with my tie in your mouth.” He snickered, a second finger slowly sliding into her dripping cunt as he worked on scissoring her open. “Fuck, you’re such a pretty little thing.” He praised, unholy sounds of squelching filling the room from her wetness.

As his fingers curled upwards, he couldn’t help the chuckle that left his lips as soon as she was gasping around his tie, his fingertips pushing the spongy spot inside of her that had her eyes fluttering shut, drool from the corners of her mouth due to the tie starting to run down her jaw.

Thankfully, Aaron had an extra so this wouldn’t be suspicious when the other profilers were surrounded by Y/N after the deed here was done. If anything, this appeared to be a typical conversation between one of the team members and their leader.

When her walls were spasming around his fingers, he took the opportunity to slip both fingers out of her cunt while chuckling at her whine in response to that. “Such a needy little slut. Don’t worry.. I’m gonna take care of you. Just gotta keep quiet.”

The words made Y/N’s pussy clench around nothing, a muffled moan filling the office as the sound of his belt being undone chased behind it. After tossing the belt to the side, he pushed his pants down along with his boxers. 

“Shh, I know.” He whispered as if it were a secret between them when he could hear her whines of impatience, his hand wrapping around his hard cock, hand giving it a few lazy tugs to prepare himself. He let his thick tip tease her folds, spreading her slick around as if the two needed lube. “Alright. Ready?”

With one hand on her hip, he was slowly pushing his cock into her tight cunt, groaning lowly as he watched her pussy envelope his shaft, swallowing him to the hilt while her hands were holding onto the desk tightly.

He waited a solid minute for her to adjust, his hand rubbing her lower back in an effort to soothe her, wanting to have her as comfortable as possible. 

When she was giving him the sign she was ready, he was rolling his hips slowly, the man letting out a soft breath that he didn’t know he was holding in. Bringing both hands to grip her hips, it wasn’t long until he was doing deeper, faster strokes. 

“Fuck, bite my tie harder, darling. You’re being too loud.” He murmured, hips continuing to slam into hers as a thin layer of sweat was collecting on his forehead. With the desk rocking at a rhythm with Aaron’s thrusts, it was no surprise when some papers or files were falling to the ground around the desk. 

He wasn’t gonna worry about that now.

Currently, he was too focused on the rough snap of his hips against Y/N’s, the sound of skin crashing against one another as well as their combined noises filling the office, the desk making its own audio debut as he got a bit rougher as he was fucking her pussy raw.

“Fuck. I’m gonna cum.” He growled, cock twitching as he could feel Y/N’s tight cunt clench him in place, his hand now reaching down to find her throbbing, desperate clit to bring her to relief. 

As soon as he could feel her velvety walls pulsating around him and the feeling of her creaming on his cock, that was it for him. His nails dug into her hips, no doubt leaving crescent moon marks while her cunt was milking all the cum that Aaron had to offer.

“Y/L/N,” He spoke, chest rising and falling as he was working on catching his breath, his hand moving to her mouth to retrieve his now soaked tie. 

“You need some lessons on manners for that fucking mouth of yours.” His voice was low as he was pulling his cock from her warmth, watching his cum leak out of her pussy before slowly pulling her panties back up. 

“I think I know just the way to help you though,” 

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