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#aaron hotchner drabble
luveline · 15 hours
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Just thinking about Aaron taking a half asleep bombshell!reader’s makeup off on the ride home late after a case!! He’s so gentle with her and knows all the steps, doing it with care so he doesn’t wake her up fully
It’s only because Aaron knows that the driver employed tonight is temporary that he touches you freely. You’ve been on a plane for hours, at the office even longer, somehow, and you don’t crack —if anyone were to ask you how you were that night, you would’ve said perfect. 
But Aaron knew you were exhausted, and alone in the car with him, you aren’t afraid to finally give up the act. You slouch with your eyes screwed closed and your GoBag in your lap, your hand skewed on his thigh. 
You have very pretty hands, in his humble opinion. Mostly because of the way you use them. Even in your fatigue your thumb is grazing against the starched length of his pants gently, a curved back and forth. 
He wishes that things between you weren’t quite so private. What man wouldn’t want to brag about being touched with such care? And by such a fiercely pretty woman? 
“You okay?” he asks quietly. 
The car crunches over the road in a constant humming like fine gravel. The driver doesn’t look from the windshield at Aaron’s voice, nor do you look up from your dozing. 
“Honey, don’t get too comfortable,” he warns. 
You hum with lips closed. 
He decides it doesn’t matter. You can get comfortable if you want to. He can very well attempt to carry you up to your apartment. He’d be happy to do that. Aaron not so secretly loves to take care of you, after all. 
“Can I see this?” he asks, taking your GoBag from you gently. 
You manage a mumbled, “Yeh,” as he takes it. 
“Thank you.” 
Aaron unzippers your bag and goes to the very back where you keep your makeup bag tucked into a fabric pocket. From there he’s familiar, unbuttoning the front clasp, searching in the dark for your makeup remover and the small cloth you keep for emergencies. He’d wait to get home, only he knows there’s still a while yet to get there what with the roadworks closing the majority of the roads the run from Quantico to DC. 
“What are you doing?” you ask, eyelashes dragging apart slowly. 
“I’m going to wipe your mascara off before you fall asleep.” 
“Do I need to keep my eyes open?” 
“I think it’ll be okay.” 
You go back to snoozing. Aaron rubs the mascara from your eyes until the cloth comes away clean, tiny gentle brushes of the cloth wrapped around his knuckle. It activates something deep within him to get to take care of you. He’s not sure if it’s masculinity or pride or love, but it feels good. He wishes he could do these things for you more often. 
From there he wipes your face clean. He can’t imagine you’ll want to wash your face when you do finally get home, so he soaks a cotton round with the slim bottle of toner he often sees you using on stolen mornings or nights where he’s not supposed to be in your room, and he rubs that over each plane of your face with long, careful strokes. You turn your head when he encourages it but otherwise don’t move. 
“There,” he says, more for himself than you as he wraps the dirtied round in your cloth, hiding both in your dark wash bag. 
Your fingernails trail gently up the outside of his thigh. Your face swerves down into his shoulder, still tacky. “Thank you, Aaron,” you say. Aaron, and not Hotch. 
“Don’t blame me if you break out,” he says, his lips against your crown. 
It is definitely love.
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ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused · 18 hours
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slight angst with happy ending for aaron hotchner
he misunderstands your body language or something (maybe you grew a bit distant, more time on phone etc) and he thinks you cheat cuz he’s travelling for work and he’s had this small insecurity for a while
but obviously you’re not (leave it to you what reader was doing and if she reveals) cheating and comfort ensues
(love me some jealous hotch)
fem!plus size reader, wc: 566.
cw: angst, and fears of cheating :(
a/n: i know i need to let the angst breathe, but being the angst lover that i am, i almost jumped at this LMAO.
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Aaron wouldn’t blame you for cheating on him.
He was never home, he had a hard time answering your calls, and he barely texted you back; especially if he was away on a case. 
He hated that he even thought like this, but many nights he’d often catch you on your phone, texting away like he wasn’t lying right next to you. Aaron hated being nosy, but he’d sometimes find himself leaning over – just a bit – and playing it off as kissing you on cheek and bidding you goodnight. 
He’d understand if you were using the device to cool down or relax, but it was an everyday affair. When you were cooking? You’re texting with one hand. When you’re eating? As soon as the damn thing vibrates your eyes flicker over to where Aaron was sitting across from you quickly before looking back down and flipping the damn thing over.
Who the hell was holding your attention like this? 
Aaron didn’t want to offend you by accusing you of cheating on him, because he loves you, but if he didn’t at least know he would go crazy.
“Honey?” He had called out to you one night, his voice soft.
“Hm?” You hummed, your eyes still attached to your screen that illuminated the soft contours of your face. God, you were breathtaking.
“I -” For the first time since the beginning of your relationship, Aaron had no idea how to talk to you. “I don’t mean to intrude but… what are you doing?”
Your eyebrows furrow and you look up. “What do you mean?”
“I mean that for the past week your phone has been glued to your hand.”
You look almost surprised at his confrontation, and that made his stomach drop. Is it really as bad as he thought it was? He felt the bile rise in the back of his throat.
“Oh.” You were almost conflicted. “I-”
“Is there someone else?” Aaron never interrupted you, but he had to know, he had to get the hard part out of the way.
Your jaw dropped and your brows dipped low in disbelief, “Wha - what? No!” You scrambled to shove your device in his hand. “There’s no one Aaron, look.” Your head gestured down to your phone and when he did, he felt like an idiot.
There at the top was labeled ‘Penny <3’
“You know… your birthday is coming up soon, and me and Penelope were just trying to plan something nice for you. I was kind of hoping you wouldn’t ask me about it because you know I can’t lie to you, and I didn’t want all of Penelope’s hard work to go to waste.”
Oh yeah, he was definitely really fucking embarrassed, but he was also overcome with the overwhelming feeling of shame.
How could he have assumed the worst out of you? All this time you were distant was because you loved him so much to the point where you couldn't keep anything from him.
“Oh, honey I’m sorry.” His voice was thick with remorse, and you only grabbed his large hand and kissed the back of it in response. You felt a cheeky smile tugging on your face.
“I’ll forgive you on one condition.”
“Whatever you want, it’s yours.” You shivered at the satisfying sound.
“You have to act surprised when you walk into the room okay?”
He chuckles but nods, “I promise.”
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"Girls without boyfriends how's life?"
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diqldrunks · 3 days
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✧*̥˚ AARON HOTCHNER MASTERLIST *̥˚✧
nav | main masterlist | inbox
:・゚✧:・゚
✧*̥˚ headcannons *̥˚✧
"SECRET STARES": working in the bau and dating aaron hotchner (while trying to keep it from the team) would include…
"PARENTS EVENING": teacher!reader and aaron hotchner meeting (for the first time at parents evening) would include…
✧*̥˚ drabbles *̥˚✧
"ELEVATOR MISHAPS": being stuck in an lift with aaron hotchner would include...
"A MOCK INTERVIEW": part two to "elevator mishaps"!
"DRUNKEN STUMBLES": aaron hotchner helping drunk!reader (who hurt themselves) would include...
"BACK SCRATCHES": aaron hotchner and back scratches would include...
:・゚✧:・゚
aaron hotchner taglist (lmk if you want to be added!); @inkluvs @loveeharrington @garfieldsladybird @fclklqre @alexis-angelsss @ivyppoison @starstruckwillows @masivechaos @leaskisses444 @hotchnerxo @kajjaka
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ssahotchnerr · 23 days
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okay but when the team actually starts calling the reader and aaron mom and dad behind their backs and one day someone lets it slip out in front of them??
i just… aaron’s reaction?????
the parentals
i love this dynamic SO MUCH cw; fem!bau!reader, established relationship, fluff <3
as you and aaron entered the bullpen, you were both quick to notice the others huddled around spencer's desk, surely for a new session of physics magic.
a smile immediately twitched at aaron's lips, tossing you a mischievous look. as long as it didn't make a mess, or a disruption - per his and reid's previous discussions - he really didn't mind the recurring demonstrations.
but would he ever miss an opportunity to get the blood rushing in this scenario - never.
"be nice." you teased, laughing softly under your breath as you followed him over.
"i'm always nice." aaron playfully insisted, those brown eyes flickering in that way that just melted your heart. "what do you mean?"
"better be careful," emily's warning came into earshot as you neared, completely oblivious to the two of you - the timing just perfect. "or else dad's gonna ground you."
aaron's expression quirked at the title, his eyebrows lightly furrowing.
"oh please," spencer said, his fingers making quick work of whatever the experiment happened to be. "he's too busy with mom-"
jj's eyes happened to lift right at mom, made direct eye contact with you, and immediately choked back a laugh. some horror timidly filled her eyes, and she didn't cover up her sound too adequately. it caused the others to instantly look up too, and freeze.
"busted." jj mumbled, her gaze finding the ground.
aaron's smile resurfaced, crossing his arms. his tone was playful, yet confused and utterly amused nonetheless. "dad?"
spencer flushed. "uh..."
"oh c'mon. cut the crap." emily interrupted with an eye roll, looking between the two of you. "like it's not shocking at this point. just look at what the two of you were about to do, lecture us-"
"hey no," with a laugh you cut in, arching an eyebrow. "i don't lecture."
"exactly. he does," emily crossed her arms also with a smitten smirk - her point thoroughly exhibited. "you're the flexible one. see, mom and dad."
"i always thought rossi was dad." aaron expressed openly, a small chuckle shaking through his chest.
"no, you were always dad," jj shook her head, "rossi was mom, until," once again, her eyes found yours, smiling softly this time. "until someone else came around, and took on the role wholeheartedly."
you grinned, exchanging a quick, loving glance with aaron. "what's dave now, then?"
"old."
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ddejavvu · 6 months
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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."
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inkdrinkerworld · 10 months
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aaron seeing reader in one of his old law school shirts and he’s like yeah this is heaven
all the air releases from his lungs as he comes home to find you lounging on the couch in his harvard hoodie.
“you’re back early,” you say, eyes shining with love as he makes his way to you immediately.
“mhm, as bad as it may sound, we had an easy case to solve today.”
aaron smushes his lips to your forehead before laying in your lap- trying for covertness but his hands tugging on the soft cotton gives him away.
“can i help you?” a giggle takes over your voice as your boyfriend’s hands climb up your torso.
“you’re wearing my shirt,” he says, a dreamy tone to his voice as he blinks up at you. “or rather, my hoodie.”
you nod, “i ran out of shirts,” you were on day number ten at his house and you’d only packed for a week. “stole the comfiest looking one.”
he places a kiss to your stomach, “you look good in it,” a second passes. “better than good actually.”
your belly heats up from his affection and you risk a small flick of his nose as you say rather bashfully, “stop.”
her only laughs, kissing your palm before pressing it to his cheek. “come to bed, honey. we can finally have an early night.”
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justmyheart · 7 months
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hi!! i love love LOVE how you write & if you're still open for smutty requests could i request size kink with aaron? maybe aaron teasing reader because he's so much bigger than them,, or with some praise,,, your bj fic inspired me a lot!! + thank you so much you are a goddess 🤍
hi honey!! thank you so much for reading, you're such a sweetheart 🥺🥺 i hope you enjoy this <333
warnings: p in v smut, praise kink, size kink, kinda mean!aaron 18+ MDNI
aaron hotchner x fem!reader, 0.9 words
"S'not gonna fit," you whimper, hands twisting in the sheets beside you, thighs hitched up around Aaron's waist.
"Shh, honey, 've got you, we'll make it fit," his eyes zero in on your pussy, puffy folds glistening with your slick. His fingers inch up your legs, soothing circles drawn closer and closer to the crease of your thighs.
"Aaron, please," you whine, squirming in his grip, begging for him to just touch you, to just do something.
"C'mon, be good f'me, said 've got you, yeah?" His hands pause on your inner thigh and he watches you, an eyebrow raised in question.
You force your hips to stay on the bed, heaving breaths and licking your lips as your eyes lock onto his. You give him a sharp nod and a light smack lands on your thigh.
"Ow! What was that for?"
"Words, honey, c'mon, you know this. What do you say?"
"Yes, Aaron," you mumble, cheeks heating up and spreading down your body like wildfire.
He rewards you by lowering himself down to your pussy, pressing light kisses to your clit as his fingers rub themselves through your slick, circling your entrance.
"So big, y're so big," you moan, legs tightening around his waist. He shifts himself closer to you, cock nudging itself against your inner thigh, hard and warm. Hitching your legs higher against his waist, he slips two fingers into you slowly, watching to gauge your reaction.
"Mm, fuck, Aaron, shit," you're babbling already, lifting your hips and thrusting forward, desperate for his fingers to fill you up.
"Shit, baby, you're stretching around my fingers so well, good job honey," he mutters, his free hand coming up to  roll your nipple. "Such a greedy pussy, practically sucking me in, so tight."
"More, Aaron, please, I need more," you moan, shifting up onto your elbows to watch his fingers stroke in and out of you, slick dripping down your slit, down towards your ass.
"Yeah? Feeling needy, honey? You think you're ready for my cock?"
"Yes, yes, fuck Aaron, please," you beg, wide eyes filling with tears, "want you to fuck me, please, want to be good for you."
He twists your nipple hard, hand moving down to pat mockingly at your hip. "Oh I know you will, this pussy just needs my cock in her, huh? Just needs to be stretched out on my big cock, hm? Think you can handle it, baby?"
"Yes, yes, please, Aaron, 'm ready, gonna be your good girl, please." You moan in despair as Aaron pulls his fingers out of you, drawing a line up your body until he's tapping at your mouth.
"Taste yourself, honey, so sweet for me, baby." You mouth at his fingers, using both your hands to clutch at his wrist. He watches you with rapt attention, his cock twitching against the seam of your folds as your tongue slips between his fingers.
"Fuck, I need to be inside you now, " he groans, pulling his hand away from your mouth, smirking at your disappointed face. One hand comes to your hips, thumb rubbing soothing circles, as he considers you. The other wraps around the base of his cock, stroking up and down the length lightly. 
You're a vision on his sheets, hair spread around you like a halo, nipples wet and stiff from his attention. His gaze moves down to your folds, covered in slick, hole twitching in anticipation.
"Aaron," you urge him, glassy eyes alternating between his cock and his face, heels of your feet nudging into his back.
He leans down to press a quick kiss to your forehead as he hauls you up agaisnt him, hips lifting into his lap.
You both watch as he guides the head of his cock to your folds, running it up and down, coating it in your wetness. Unabashed moans fall from both your throats when the head nudges at your clit.
He notches the tip at your entrance and guides his cock in slowly, a fire burning through you as your muscles struggle to stretch around him.
"Aaron, oh, Aaron, so big, I-" your moans fill the air as you squirm, to get away or to get closer - you're not sure.
"Fuck, so good, you're taking me so good, baby, shit, honey." His voice was strangled, hands holding onto your hips hard enough to bruise. "Such a good girl for me, honey, so good."
He pushes in slowly, tugging your nipples to soothe you until he bottoms out, his pelvis flush against yours, wiry hairs rubbing against your clit. "Fuck, honey, this pussy squeezing me so good, she's so greedy."
You moan unintelligibly, hands grabbing up at Aaron's shoulders until he falls towards you, his weight pinning you down.
"Doing okay, pretty girl?" he cooes, nose nudging at yours, "Gonna let me fuck you, honey? Let me make you feel good, hm?"
You nod up at him jerkily, "Yes, yeah, please, Aaron, wanna feel you." He groans at your words, leaning back onto his haunches.
He pulls out slowly, letting you feel every ridge, until only the tip is inside you. Without warning, he slams back in, setting a punishing rhythm that has your tits bouncing back and forth, head tipped back against the pillow.
"Fuck, that's it, take it," he moans, one hand leaving to twist and tug at your nipples, "doing so good f'me, honey."
"So full, Aaron, I can't, you'r-" you're cut off by Aaron's hand on your throat, wrapping around the column, fingers pressing lightly against the skin.
"Shh, y're okay, honey, 've got you, yeah? Just lie there and take it like a good girl f'me, hm?"
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randomoutsiders · 1 month
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asking hotch to do push ups and say your name in between (ifykyk)
a designated day off is a rare occurence - a date circled in red ink and bedazzled by giddy stars on the calendar that hangs by off the side of the refrigerator is a day to be celebrated. but it hasn't been, yet, as you tuck your feet further underneath your bottom, pallid features still waking up at this early hour as you cradle a cooling mug of coffee between chilled palms.
the waffle mix box still rests, unopened, on the kitchen counter, an adjacent bowl too close to the edge. aaron sludges into the living room, footsteps heavy and dark fringe awry from its typical professional position. "g'morning, sweetheart," his voice is still sodden with fatigue, vocal cords grating against one another in that deep baritone when he deeps in to smooth his lips over your cheekbone. "i know i've got the day off, but i still have to train for this triathlon thing," he preens when he runs his hands over his face. "fuck."
your toes curl in their warm socks underneath your bum, and you run a tongue over your lips. "just a quick workout couldn't hurt," you offer, motioning mindlessly to the coffee table. "could move this thing out of the way and bring up your weights. wouldn't mind breakfast 'n a show."
hotch's eyes, still foggy with sleep, narrow in exaggerated accusation, hands settling sassily on his hips. "you'd like that, wouldn't you? and you'd have to get started on breakfast first, honey, don't think you can call coffee a meal."
his jab at your frequent java substitution for a proper breakfast earns a kick at his shin when you untangle your leg out from under you. "okay, then get going then, mr. muscle man. let's see if you can own up to your end of the deal."
he retaliates with an eye roll, feigned perturbance rolling off his shoulders in heaping waves when he drops, albeit slowly, to the ground. "alright, alright."
"say my name when you do them." your words are nearly muffled by the next mouthful of hot coffee, but aaron catches them.
"yeah?" he grunts when he sinks into a pushup, elbows cracking with the sudden strain at this hour. "why's that?"
you shift again. "just do it."
aaron obliges, and you make no effort to hold up your end of the agreement, licking over your lips as your name slips from his own. the wimpery wisp of each grunt, each huff from tired lungs, and arousal is amalgamating in your navel, oozing and churning in its fiery path. "oh jesus," he realizes, head falling as soreness bleeds into his biceps. "i can't believe i fell for that."
"keep going," you breathe, unable to cloak the frog in your throat. your muscles seize up when he does it one last time, chest tightening when you go to place your mug back on the nearby table.
when your fingers fly to the belt of your robe, aaron's already jumping up from the floor, already forgetting the pain that bites at his muscles. "alright, on your belly," he grunts, hand shoving down his sweats.
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moonlightspencie · 1 month
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“why are you looking at me like that?” : “i don’t know what you’re talking about” // hotch. as a treat. to me.
he is babygirl. he’s an angel. he’s a little wet mouse. he’s a grizzly bear. he’s he
pairing: aaron hotchner x gn!reader
warnings: none
send valentine’s day drabbles
It was obvious. Painfully obvious. And he totally thought he was getting away with it.
Sitting around on the jet coming back home from a case, much of the team was asleep. Though, they’d noticed on this case. And the last one. And the one before that: Hotch had it bad.
The singular person who didn’t seem to notice was you.
You sat by the window, looking out over the cloudy sky as you zoomed through the air back home. Everyone else was either sleeping or lost in their own world. Except for Hotch. He sat down in front of you, pushing a mug of your favorite tea towards you.
You smiled when you saw it, then you smiled at him.
“Thanks,” you said quietly, picking it up and sipping at the still-too-hot liquid.
“Any time,” he replied, even quieter with a small smile in return. Only he didn’t look away.
After a moment of staring out the window again, now with a warm mug in your hands, you looked back at him. Your smile only spread when you saw that dopey look on his face.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” you asked softly.
His eyes widened briefly as he finally looked away.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he mumbled, looking uncharacteristically shy.
Finally, even you figured it out. Your heart beat a little faster at the idea, and you bit back a grin. You fell silent for a minute, then glanced back at him.
“It’s okay. I stare sometimes, too, when you’re not paying attention.”
The ghost of a smile hit his lips.
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alwaysmoncheri · 22 days
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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.
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luveline · 6 months
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hi, i have a request for hotch if that's okay with you :)
when they're on the jet, yn is smiling a lot at her phone so the team starts to tease her because the think that she has a mysterious boyfriend. and she does, but he's sitting right next to her and he's also wondering who's making her smile like that since it's clearly not him
tysm!
Hotch is trying hard to award you your privacy, but your smile makes it difficult. You're actually squared away from him despite sitting in the seat beside him of your own free will, your phone to your chest, a huge smile curved across your cute mouth. 'Cute mouth', Hotch thinks to himself with derision. He's thoroughly whipped for you. It might not work out. 
You've been secretive and strange on your phone for an hour now. With nothing left to do but wait for the jet to touch down, you can watch whatever or text whenever you want. Hotch just wishes it wasn't so distracting. Who are you texting? He feels ill. 
"Who's that?" 
The dam finally breaks. As soon as Morgan asks, Emily pipes up, "Yeah, who is it?" as Rossi laughs and declares, "I know that look. Young Y/N's in love." 
You side eye Hotch. "Workplace harassment," you say. 
"Who is it?" Hotch asks. 
You gawp but laugh at his unprofessional questioning, pressing your phone screen tight to your chest. "Hotch, it's–" 
"Your not-so-secret boyfriend? Come on, we all know you have one," Morgan says. 
"I know you know, you're like sharks," you say, giving them all a great long look. 
For weeks now, you've glowed. This overzealous smiling and laughing is the straw that breaks the camel's back. Your nosy coworkers can't hold back their curiosity any longer. Hotch was stupid enough to think that your secretive dates and nights spent curled in on one another might be the reason behind your new hopped up sprightliness, but apparently not. 
"So you admit it!" Emily cheers. 
"Maybe. But it's not what's happening on my phone." 
"Well, what is it?" Spencer asks. 
They've leaned in on you, a circle of eager faces. Your sudden decision to admit you —maybe— have a boyfriend is as much as anyone's gotten out of you in weeks. If anyone could tease the truth from you, of course it's Hotch, and so the team looks to their leader pleadingly. 
He's not sure he wants to know. "They won't leave you alone otherwise," he says, hoping that his expression shows his leniency. Your secrets are your own if you want to keep them. 
You smile at him. Again, he thinks you have a cute mouth, and that he's biassed but you definitely smile sweeter at him than anyone else. You and Hotch know something the others don't, amusement like light behind your irises. "I'll show you," you say smugly, "and only you, Hotch." 
"Typical," Morgan murmurs, sitting back on the couch. 
Hotch clenches his sweaty palms beneath the table. "Alright." 
You lean in against his shoulder. Your phone turns on, and he's taking deep breaths as you click to your photo app, and then an album labelled with a simple, '<3'. 
It's photos of him. Most he knows you took, sitting across from you in dark restaurants or kneeling in your apartment putting together a new set of drawers. Your giggles begin in earnest as you swipe through them to a more recent photograph. You couldn't have taken it more than a week ago, when he'd stayed the night with you by accident, too tired to leave. His face is slack in sleep. He realises it's a video when you click a button and the sound of crinkling fabric plays from your speaker. In the video, you unbutton the tight collar of his shirt, stroking his neck briefly with a loving knuckle. The video moves down to frame his arm, his hand clinging to your other one like a sucker. 
Hotch looks up from the video and blinks at you. Your hand on his sleeping neck, the sound of your tired laughter —he can't not smile. "Oh. That's…"
"What did you show him?" Morgan asks, his voice coloured with both amusement and frustration. The team echo his question.
"I can't kiss and tell," you say, still tucked up by his side. 
"I think it's best if you don't, L/N," Hotch agrees. 
He'd lose all credibility. 
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hey i love your work so much!! i was wondering if you could do something where hotch gets lingerie for the reader. and the reader is like mmm no maybe not.. but hotch is like please just try it on to see if you like it?
reader is like ok, so they put it on and they are stilly kinda hesitant but when hotch sees them he is like star struck and… ya know shows them how pretty they are!! and he just praises the reader, maybe they do it in front of a mirror 🫣🫣
i think it would be cute, but you don’t have to write it if you don’t want, sorry if this is all over the place it was just a stream of consciousness!!
༉‧₊˚. 𝐚 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 || 𝐚𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐧𝐞𝐫
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— pairing: aaron hotchner x plus size!reader
— summary: to aaron, buying you lingerie was an act of love, to you, it was something new.
— warnings: lingerie wearing (obviously), slight body insecurity, illusions to mirrors being used for future... unsavory acts, kissing, heavy petting, praise, heavy kissing.
— wc: 745
⋆ a/n: hello hun!! i'm so glad you like my work and sorry that this isn't as detailed as you probably would have liked. funny enough i couldn't find space to fit actual smut in there, but never fear! it is still as equally spicy and fun!
masterlist | AO3
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“What the fuck is that?”
Aaron held up a piece of lingerie that looked more like pieces of string and lace were sewn together than any actual cloth.
“Lingerie, honey.” He said with a deep chuckle. “And you want me to wear… that?” You questioned in disbelief. “That would be ideal, yes.”
There was a wince on your face as you continued to stare at the dark red thing. “Yeah… no. Absolutely not.” You crossed your arms. “Sweetheart, you don't even know if you won't like it.”
“No, I know I don't like it. How about you just see me naked?”
“As tempting as that sounds, I would like it very much if you were to try it on.”
Your eyes flickered from his to the bundle of lace.
Now, it wouldn't be fair to say no, because Aaron has indulged in many of your fantasies over the years, and he barely asks for anything, as well as always focuses on your pleasure. If you said no he'd drop the conversation entirely, he was never one to pressure.
You could see it in the burning of his irises that he wanted to see you in the lingerie, and he would never steer you wrong and pick something ugly. Oh God, just thinking about him going into a place like Victoria's Secret made your cheeks heat up.
With one final glance you sighed, sticking out your hand. “Fine, but I'm doing this just because I love you and… because I want to.”
He walked up and handed you it, pulling you into his side to give you a kiss on your head. “Thank you.” You just hummed before disappearing into the bathroom.
Oh you looked like a fucking clown.
You knew this would be no good. This was not flattering at all, at least in your eyes. You cringed, tugging at the straps that dug into your arms uncomfortably. You had never felt so… unsure sexually before.
“Aaron, I look ridiculous.”
“I'm sure you look great.”
“Did this thing not come with a robe?” You couldn't help but ask, because the outfit felt like it was missing something.
“It did.”
“And where might it be?”
“With me.”
“You're such a bastard.” You mumbled to yourself.
You took a deep breath to ease your nerves.
“Alright, I'm coming out, but if you laugh at me, I'm going to kill you.”
“In what world would I laugh at you?” He was right, you were being nervous and irrational and — God, you've never done this before. Was it hot in here? Were you sweating?
Stepping out of the bathroom was one thing, but Aaron staring at you speechless was a whole other can of worms.
You shifted anxiously in your spot as he approached you, his large hand cupping your cheek. His calloused thumb rubbed the hot skin of it softly.
“You look breathtaking.” His voice was strained. The other hand that wasn't cradling your face landed on your naked hip. He squeezed the fat of it, a light shiver shooting up his back at the feeling of the fat spilling through his fingers.
Your body thrums with excitement, your last hesitation slowly melting off of you.
“You think so?” You ask shyly. “I know so.” Aaron confirms with that warm, comforting voice of his. He connects your lips together and a light, surprised gasp exits your mouth. Your hands shoot-out to hold his strong biceps.
His lips molded themselves firmly onto yours, tongue exploring your mouth with desperate fervor. It was like he was trying to consume you, and a new type of fire burned in his veins. It was a rabid kind of need that threatened every part of him that was a gentleman.
You pushed away from him to catch your breath, your chest rising and falling rapidly. Your eyes fall on the mirror hanging on the well next to where you guys are standing and you groan.
“Ugh, Aaron…” You whine in embarrassment, burying your head into his hard chest. “Don’t be ashamed of yourself, sweetheart. You’re gorgeous.” You groan in embarrassment. “Why do you have to say stuff like that?”
“Because I mean it. I love all of you.”
“You really know how to sweet talk a girl, don’t you, Hotchner?”
“As much as I like sweet talking you, I like having you in my bed more.” He locked your lips again, nosy hands massaging and gripping at the chub exposed by the two-piece.
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ೃ⁀➷ my lovely taglist!: @alina02 @louderfortheback @minervadashwood @their-love @fandomsarelifee @theendofthe70s @nomajdetective @mgg-theprettiestboy @phoenixblack89 @celtic-crossbow @hallecarey1 @bunnybabe-babydoll @alixwriter @dixonzzgirl @violettavirus
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ceriseswift · 15 days
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aaron hotchner struggles accepting the love he deserves.
that’s why he shuts down when you move in next door. you, with your flowy dresses and baked goods and shiny lips. he doesn’t dare go near you. how could he, when he has the exact opposite of a midas touch? he wouldn’t even dare to think of putting you in harm’s way, which is why he rejects the brownies you offer him the day after your move in. his heart cracks at the way your face falls, but his legendary poker face has gotten him this far, and it’ll get him out of this, too. or so he thinks.
you show up the next day, and the day after that. soon, his kitchen counter is laden with cookies, cakes, and pies. jack is in heaven, and hotch himself can’t help but indulge. as his teeth sink into the chewy goodness of a chocolate chip cookie, he chastises himself for wondering if your lips taste just as sweet. he imagines kissing you after you taste test one of your treats, maybe licking some frosting off your top lip.
guilt and shame creep up his spine, slithering around his body until his heart is constricted with it. he can’t think like this. not with you. not when you’re so good. you’re so good, and he’s been through so much bad, what if that’s all he is now? why on earth would someone so sweet and beautiful want a divorced widower with a child? it makes no sense to him, so he shakes off any possibility of it even happening. even if the looks you give him from your garden tell him otherwise.
he recalls the times this week he’s seen you out while he’s arriving home from work. the way your eyes would follow up and down his body, how you’d bite your lip as you said hello. the way your gaze lingered on his biceps that were stuffed into his button up is seared into his memory. he normally saves these memories for bed time, or during a cold shower, but you’re taking up his brain capacity at a rapid pace. he’s afraid there’s no pumping the brakes.
one day, after two weeks of you bringing him baked goods and eye fucking him from your yard, you appear on his front doorstep. only this time, there’s not a treat in your hand, but an entire picnic basket.
“hi!” you chirp, your beautiful smile etched onto your face, “sorry to bug, i hope you’re not busy! it’s such a beautiful day outside, i thought it’d be perfect for a picnic, and i’d love some company! maybe we could get to know each other some more!”
his heart completely stops. he’s surprised he doesn’t go comatose in that very moment.
“w-wow!” he stutters, clearing his throat. smooth, aaron, “that sounds great, but i don’t have a sitter for jack…” he hates to decline, but his son has always come first. any woman entering his life needs to know that. not that you’re entering his life, right?
“oh! that’s not a problem! he’s invited too, i packed a peanut butter and jelly, but then i thought he could be allergic to peanut butter, so there’s a ham and cheese one in there for him too!” he sees you grow bashful at your rambling, your cheeks heating even more under the warm july sun. he has to fight the urge to kiss that pretty face, one on each cheek.
“that sounds wonderful,” he says gently, a smile in kind forming on his face, “let me go grab him.”
jack is elated to spend the day in the park with the new nice neighbor, and aaron’s heart swells at how much his son already loves you. his heart nearly bursts in his chest, though, when you loop your arm through his and lean up to whisper in his ear, “maybe later, when you can get a sitter, we can do this again, just you and me,” your siren eyes rendering him nearly comatose, once again.
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diqldrunks · 19 hours
Text
A MOCK INTERVIEW — A. HOTCHNER
nav | inbox
aaron masterlist | main masterlist
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a/n: this is in response to "elevator mishaps"!
cw/tw: a broken lift/elevator and me just rambling
*:・゚✧*:・゚
oh i love this — lets say hotch gets a call and gets called 'hotch' (so r knows who he is, nice and easy) and then they talk about the job, and leads into a mock interview with them sitting across from each other (but bc its a lift they're so close for strangers but it's fine bc i fully believe aaron hotchner smells really nice)
its not serious in any way shape or form and full of giggles
asking about film preferences and coffee orders (IS THIS A PREQUEL TO THIS)
but when you get out, aaron asks if you're free
and you're so confused — you literally have an interview with him
and he's like
"you're hired"
"but—"
"you have good experience and references, and in the interview that we have just had, i have learned many valuable things, such as your coffee order, so, if you're free and interested, i would like to take you for a coffee."
aaron hotchner taglist (lmk if you want to be added!); @inkluvs @loveeharrington @garfieldsladybird @fclklqre @alexis-angelsss @ivyppoison @starstruckwillows @masivechaos @leaskisses444 @hotchnerxo @obxhawkinsberlin
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ssahotchnerr · 30 days
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👉🏼👈🏼 is it ok to request a fic where jack starts trying to take care of the reader the way he sees his dad does? like maybe hotch is away from a case and reader gets sick or sad or idk, so jack takes it upon himself to be there for reader? like maybe he even starts referring reader with the same pet name hotch calls her? tysm!
like dad does
aw 🥹 cw; fem!reader, established relationship, mentions of sickness, fluff <3
you awoke with a gentle start; a trail of cold water trickling down the side of your face, pooling vaguely in your ear.
likewise, a more concrete sensation was set on your forehead - a cold compress. most likely a washcloth, and one that hadn't been wrung out too much at that.
but it was relieving, a delightful contrast from your burning forehead.
"oops," a small mumble came directly from your left ear, as well as a soft exhale of a breath. "sorry."
"jack?" you muttered, rather drowsily. you forced your eyes open, finding jack's sweet, concerned face beside you. "what're you doing?"
"i'm taking care of you." he explained softly, his tone so nonchalant as if it were the most obvious and simplest thing in the world. he reached forward, adjusting the top of the blanket that was draped overtop you. "like dad does. he put the washcloth on you yesterday, you 'member?"
he was right; you were on day two, maybe three? of a nasty bout of the flu. quite honestly you didn't know what day it was, they all blurred together, and your scattered sleep schedule didn't help. you offered him a nod.
"thank you." you gave him a small, closed mouth smile. if it weren't for the germs, you'd reach out to touch his cheek. you sat up a bit from your position in bed, your voice hoarse. "where is your dad?"
"a meeting."
your eyebrows furrowed, the facial movement burning your sinuses. "he's home?"
jack nodded, "he's in his office, but he said it might take a long time. so that's why i'm helping you feel better."
his face brightened a bit, as if a realization struck him. he reached into his pant's pocket, retrieving a few cough drops he had shoved in there, dropping them onto your blanket covered chest.
"i'm sorry i can't make you soup." jack apologized, solemnly as his shoulders dropped. "but i'm not allowed to use the stove."
your face softened, the weak smile resurfacing. "that's okay bud, don't worry. you can help dad make some later when he's done, how 'bout that?"
he nodded enthusiastically, before hoisting himself onto your bed.
"hey no no no, i wouldn't," you protested gently, your heart also melting at his action. "i don't want you getting my germs."
"if i get sick i get sick." that's the same thing aaron had said, multiple times, when he insisted on getting into bed with you earlier. jack scooted somewhat close, staying mainly on his father's side of the bed.
"and if i get sick, i don't need to go to school."
you laughed softly, but finding yourself too weak to argue, you did the only thing you could - go right back to sleep.
it was restless; you were in and out of slumber, and could roughly process jack getting up here and there - solely due to the distant sensation of the washcloth leaving and returning to your forehead, dampened once more.
and once aaron's meeting had ceased, he went in to check on you, and was pleasantly surprised, and touched, to see jack accompanying you.
you were out, with jack diligently watching over, while also keeping himself busy - his sketchbook and colored pencils were scattered amongst the bed.
"how's it going?" aaron asked him from the doorway, the door producing a sharp creak as he pushed it forward a tad.
"good. i brought cough drops, the washcloth, and made sure she got lots of rest. just like you did." jack continued to draw as he spoke, before his head shot right up. "can we make soup?"
"sure buddy," aaron nodded, a tinge of pride pulling at his heart. he tilted his head towards the hallway, and jack immediately scrambled off the bed. "c'mon."
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