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reidsconverse · 2 years

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“friends kiss each other all the time, right? “ with Hotch please 😩🙌🏻

it's 10 pm when you decide to finish up for the night-taking the imminent rumbling of your stomach as a sign to leave and get some dinner. you’re quick to pack your things away, your mind distracted as you tried to decide what you were craving.

you switch your desk light off, leaving the bullpen in almost complete darkness - apart from the scattered lamps and the unmissable glow coming from your boss’s office. you took a moment to debate whether to disturb hotch so late and before you had come to a conclusion your feet were dragging you up the short steps and you were knocking on his slightly ajar door.

“hey, are you busy?” you ask, regretting the words as soon as you saw the piles of paperwork on his desk and the look of frustration on his face. you opened your mouth, ready to apologise for bothering him when he puts his pen down and gestures for you to enter.

“is everything ok y/n?” he asks, his gentle tone taking you by surprise - you’d expected annoyance or a dismissive gesture. but all you saw was his shoulders relax, and his eyes widened slightly with intrigue.

“oh i was -uh- just wondering if you wanted to get dinner.” you almost winced at the way you stuttered and his eyebrows raise slightly in what you could only detect as amusement. you took this as a sign to continue, “i just mean, we’re the only ones left and its late and i dont really feel like walking out on my own.” a sigh left your lips as you finished - that couldn’t have come out worse if you’d tried.

you were almost certain he’d tell you to leave, that he had far too much to do. instead, he looks at you for a moment, not saying a word before standing up. “ok.” he says, and now it was your turn to be surprised. he places a few items inside his bag and walks over to you. “let’s go.”

the plan was to walk over to the restaurant, eat your meal and walk back to your car and drive home. simple, almost impossible to go wrong. but of course, it did, you got there just slightly after 10:30 - your heart sinking slightly as you saw them closing up the sit-in area for the night. “takeout only.” the guy at the counter said, before heading back into the kitchen.

you turned to face hotch who didn’t seem at all phased by the unexpected hurdle in the plan. “we can find someplace else.” you whispered, feeling bad for dragging him out of his office and away from his work.

but he only shook his head, “no, it’s fine - we’ll figure something out, " he said before picking up a menu and reading through the options, leaving you to wonder what he could propose as a solution.

it wasn’t until you’d left the restaurant, two bags full of takeout boxes that he’d let you in on his plan. and that's how you ended up here, sitting on the floor in the living room of your boss’s apartment- reruns of various 90s shows playing on the tv as you both divulged in the best Thai food DC had to offer.

“this is really good, i can’t believe i’ve never been there before.” he said, adding some more green curry to his plate. you let out a small laugh, reaching over to take the box from him and add the rest to your own - already full - plate.

“not too many people know about it, i found it my first week here when i was scoping out the area and it’s been my little secret ever since.” you admit.

“well, thank you for sharing it with me.” the way he smiles as he says it makes your stomach flutter, and you’re grateful when his attention moves back to food and away from you - the ridiculous grin on your face becoming almost impossible to hide.

it's hard enough trying not to look at him with metaphoric heart eyes but you can’t help it - it all feels surreal, you never thought you’d be here, indulging in such a domestic moment with him. it was no secret you’d been in love with hotch since your very first week at the bau. it sounds ridiculous, especially since he’d barely looked your way but there was something about him - a magnetic energy that pulled you in.

the vibration of his phone shook the table slightly, interrupting the comfortable silence. He sighed and stood up quickly, mumbling a rushed 'one second' before walking to the kitchen. the hushed conversation couldn't be heard, but the disappointment on his face as he came back out to the living room told you the evening was coming to an end sooner than you'd like.

"is everything all right?" you asked as he approached you. you observed how he didn't sit down again and how his shoulders had tensed, his demeanor moving from comfortable to...well, how he typically was, guarded.

“that was jessica, jack not sleeping well, so she’s going to bring him home, I'm sorry." he explained, but you were shaking your head before he could continue speaking.

"there's no need to apologise, hotch; dad duty comes first." you smiled at him, and he returned a small one. "let me help you tidy this up, and I'll be on my way." you quickly began to close the nearly empty containers, and he didn’t hesitate to help.

“do you need want to me to drop you home?” he asked, as he put away the last if the dishes.

“my apartment is only a few blocks away, I can walk.” you replied, watching as he turned to face you, eyebrows furrowed with concern. a giggle escaped your lips before you could stop it, “i have my gun, and pepper spray. I’ll be fine.”

his eyes glittered with amusement, “i don’t doubt that, i’ve seen you throw your fair share of punches.” he laughs, and you feel your heart clench at the sound. it's silent for a moment, before he continues. “thank you for dragging me out of that office - can’t imagine having dinner with your boss was how you wanted to spend your evening.”

“‘are you kidding? thank you for keeping me company, i really appreciate it.” its true, you were grateful for the company - it was easy to you feel isolated from others because of your job, and it wasn't until this evening that you realised how much you'd missed socialising outside of work. “and you’re not just my boss hotch, you’re my friend.”

he tilts his head for a moment, his eyes skim across your face quickly, and you don’t miss the way they linger over your lips. “friends?” he whispers, as he moves closer to you, your back pressing against the island as you take a step back - unsure if you’d be able to hold yourself back, if he got any closer.

‘friends.” you repeated, and before the words had finished leaving your mouth you felt yourself reaching up, your hands were on his shoulders as your press your lips against his. you close your eyes before you can see his reaction, and pull away, not waiting for a reponse. “i’m so sorry - hotch i shouldn’t have…” you whispered, moving away from him and towards the door, if the earth couldn't swallow you up from the ground - the next best option would be to run out of his door.

‘y/n.. y/n wait.” he followed you, quickening his footsteps and grabbing hold of your wrist to stop you moving any further. he drew you close to him and reached up to touch your face. His hands were startlingly cold next to your heated cheeks but you couldn't bring yourself to care. “friends kiss each other all the time, right?” before you can reply, he’s kissing you and this time there’s no hesitancy, no confusion - its perfect, your lips mould together as though they were made for this…like you were made for each other.

despite wanting to freeze the moment, and live in it forever - you pulled away. ‘i- i should go, it’s late and jack will be back soon.” you say, and he nods in response - you’re acutely aware of his hands still holding your face. you bring your own hands up, to place over his. “but we should do this again… as friends.” you smile, as you walk away and open the door.

“or maybe more?” he asks, taking you by surprise for the third time that night. your lips meet his again, for a brief moment, before answering.

“or maybe more.”

thank you so much for this request and I'm so sorry it took an eternity to get it done. please send me some more requests, i can't believe how much I have missed writing.

#aaron hotchner #hotch #aaron hotchner x reader #hotch x reader #hotch blurb #aaron hotchner blurb #criminal minds #hotch <3 #you can tell where my writing started and ended because this gets soooo bad towards the end sorry ♥️#also not edited i apologise

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spacecowboyhotch · 2 years

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just impulsively wrote an entire hotch fic???

#hotch <3 #my brain said you’re still very much obsessed with him <333

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erwinsvow · 5 months

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𝐜𝐨𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐞, 𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤, 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐬

summary: aaron hotchner is a lot of things. in love with you is one that you never saw coming.

word count: 7.1k

author's note: bau!reader + hotch is my favorite combo ever. i haven't written and posted in, like, two years so please be nice :) i've written so many other versions of hotch but this one just wrote itself. inspired by the amazing @luveline and so many breathtaking hotch stories and isabel (alisdas on ao3, not on here anymore i think :( ) who wrote of terrible coffee and late-night rides which i think started all of this and my immense aaron brain rot when i read that fic, like, three years ago. enjoy!

This was wrong, Aaron thought to himself. He seldom committed acts that others might say were wrong, or argue they could potentially be wrong, but this was different. Aaron felt wrong, a feeling he was not used to.

“I’m worried about you, that’s all,” you had said quietly on the jet early one morning. You two were sitting across from each other on the flight back from the team’s latest solved case, an excruciating long ride home from the coast of Oregon.

Your book laid open on your lap, unread and a bookmark tucked between the earlier pages. The spine was cracked, like you’d read it a hundred times before. He knew that wasn’t true though, it was just a used novel probably from the thrift store around the corner of your apartment.

You had told him once, back when you first started—back when he was still married and you were less affected by this job—that you liked finding used (pre-loved, you call it) books and picking the most worn out ones to take home. You said it means that someone used to love this book.

It felt wrong because you were too young for him, and too innocent to be mixed up in his life. What could you know about his thoughts? About the love of his life that divorced him and his son he only sees once in a while.

The rest of the team makes jokes with you, in particular JJ and Penelope. He’s even heard Emily pitch in, about your not-so-secret fondness for your boss. For him.

Back when you had first started, it was nothing. Passing glances, working extra hard to please him and earn his praise—which was never given out generously. He hadn’t even taken the time to notice, never paid more attention than any other member of the team. What he did notice was your work ethic.

Being among the youngest of the team had instilled a drive in you to prove your worth. You always stayed an hour extra, came early, and spent nights working the case even when you were yawning every few minutes. The most attention he’d given you back then was commenting that you’d had a good insight into the unsub, commending you on well-written reports and briefs, and offering you a cup of coffee when it was just you and him left in the sheriff’s office. He’d be rereading seemingly endless pages of the case reports and you’d be diving headfirst into the victim’s lives.

Your specialty was always understanding why the victims did what they did, figuring out their routines and ascertaining important details from their personal belongings. He was used to you flicking through diaries and boxes of mementos that were once treasured by another young girl, not so much older than yourself.

He’d be lying if he hadn’t thought it was impacting you—reading through the journals of dead women who had been very similar to yourself, with similar hopes and dreams. It was depressing, he knew, and yet if you were bothered by it, you didn’t show it in the slightest. At least not to him.

And back then, he’d never notice the sweet smile that always graced your face when he was asking you if you’d like coffee. You’d shake your head no, and take sips of water between your yawns. You didn’t even tell him that you don’t drink coffee until a few months later, after he asked if you’d ever like a cup when he offered. He can remember it clearly even now.

“Actually, Hotch, I don’t drink coffee.” Your cheeks were tinged with color like you were embarrassed to even be admitting this to him.

“Why didn’t you say anything sooner? I would have stopped asking three months ago.” If he sounded stern, he didn't mean to. The burning on your face deepened.

“I didn’t want to be rude. I drink tea though, but I didn’t think to mention it. It’s not as easy to make.”

“Well, let me know if you need a cup of hot water then.”

You had smiled at that, and he had turned around to take another picture on the bulletin board. He smiled a little too.

“You don’t need to worry about me,” he said, maybe a little too gruffly. He didn’t mean it, again, but it just came out that way. He thinks some part of him is trying to warn you to stay away before you get too close.

“We’re all worried. You went through something really big and didn’t tell any of us and even if you don’t care about us like that, I care about you. I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

Aaron’s gaze casts around the rest of the jet. Derek has his headphones in, staring out the window and trying to resist sleep. JJ and Emily are playing cards—they should be sleeping, but they had a little too much espresso a few hours before. They’re too far away to hear you and Aaron speaking, but he notices JJ’s eyes darting over every once in a while. Spence is asleep, and he realizes that’s why it’s so quiet. Dave is reading a book, too, but he’ll stop and interject into JJ and Emily’s conversation.

He looks back at you, sleepy-eyed and wrapped in a warm, boxy pullover from your alma mater. He thinks a little bit too much about you these days, and he can’t get it to stop. He shouldn’t profile anyone on the team, they have a strict moratorium on that, but especially not you.

You, who never fails to try to make anyone feel better when they’re down. You, who doesn’t make it seem like you’re analyzing their behavior, but rather observing and offering comfort in hard times. You remember everything the team tells you about their likes and dislikes, never forgetting a birthday or special occasion. He can distinctly recall fresh chocolate chip cookies on Derek’s birthday, carrot cake from the Italian bakery Rossi loves to celebrate when his latest book became a bestseller, and a new knick knack for Penelope’s office after a particularly brutal case.

You say it’s all in passing, but he knows it’s not. You’re trying your hardest to keep the team together in the little ways, strengthening bonds that extend beyond coworkers. You want to fit in and be accepted, and you worry so much that you won’t. This is your way of trying to show that you’re a part of this team too, not just the new girl and one of the young ones.

Aaron blinks twice. You’re looking at him expectantly, and he wishes you wouldn’t. All he’ll do is disappoint you.

“You don’t need to worry,” he repeats. “I’ll be fine.”

“I wish you wouldn’t say that. Why is it so bad for us to worry about you?” You look like you’re starting to get upset—it hurts Aaron more than he realized it would. It’s not bad for the others to worry, it’s bad for you. If you get attached, if he lets this get unprofessional, he doesn’t think he’ll ever forgive himself. Hurting himself is one thing; hurting you is another entirely.

“Let it go, Agent. Try to get some rest.” He looks out the window. He can see the sun coming up, and realizes he hasn’t slept since the night before last. He still needs to drive home—not really home, he remembers sadly, his empty apartment— and work on reports before he can even see Jack. He doesn’t think resting now is a good idea, and yet his body is so tired.

When he looks back, you’re reading your book again but your eyes are really paying attention to the words on the page. You’re just skimming, and blinking rapidly, and he realizes then he’s made you tear up.

His phone goes off—Haley, and he feels guilt building up in his chest, almost overwhelming him. He steps away to answer and talks quietly. He doesn’t want you to overhear and worry even more. When he comes back to his seat, you’ve fallen asleep. He takes the book from your hands gently and puts the bookmark in, closing it and resting it on the seat beside you. He watches you sleep and wonders if he’s making a mistake trying to hide from you. He thinks, and not for the first time, that you see right through him.

The plane lands an hour and a half later, and everyone is beyond exhausted. Even Spencer, who normally doesn’t need much energy or caffeine to start talking fast about something interesting he noticed about this case and this unsub, is unusually quiet. They’re all running on fumes, staying up two nights in a row profiling and then catching the unsub with the latest victim at one in the morning, and then boarding the jet soon after.

Aaron makes a decision, everyone can work on their notes from home and the report is due no later than day after next. Derek pats him on the shoulder and says no one is to call him for the next twenty-four hours. JJ and Emily exchange a laugh. Y

ou, he notices, though he wishes he wouldn’t, go up to Spencer and talk with him quietly. When you’re done, he beams at you and you at him. He wonders what you two talked about when they’re all heading out, listening to Spencer ramble about how the unsub’s use of his childhood spots as disposal sites offers insight into the abuse of his youth. Prentiss tells him to save it for the report.

He and Rossi are walking back to their cars when Dave speaks up for the first time.

“You’re wondering what she said to him, aren’t you?”

Aaron stops for a moment.

“You should know better than to profile me.”

“Oh, I’m not profiling. This is just me being observant. You should stop fiddling with your ring finger when you talk to her. It’s a dead giveaway.”

“Dave, I don’t need to tell you that this conversation—“

“I know, I know. I won’t mention it again if you don’t want me to.”

“Thank you. I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

“See you tomorrow, Aaron. And by the way, she offered to write his notes for him if he wanted. He said it’s hard for him to write about unsubs with schizophrenic tendencies and she said she can try to help, if he wants. That’s all. Let me know when you’re ready to talk about this.”

Aaron gets in his car and doesn’t stop thinking about you the entire ride home.

You wish you could make it stop. The way you feel about your boss. It started so long ago, it’s almost a part of you now. Aaron is stern and his disposition is frightening, to the say the least. But only at first, you’ve realized, after so many late evenings spent discussing the case with him, breaking down the tiniest details, and him paying attention to your every word when you discuss the victim’s demeanor and behavior to try to figure out what had really happened.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this, you thought. You had gone to the overpopulated state school with the hopes of entering the medical field. You were a true empath, and there was no one’s suffering you couldn’t relate to, no one that you wouldn’t try to make feel better. All your life, people cried on your shoulder while you offered up words of comfort. And because of this, everyone thought you were a shoo-in for nursing or medical school, where you could help people through the worst days of their life.

All it took was a few days at the hospital where you had been working, a string of murder victims being wheeled in one after another, for you to reconsider your life’s work. None had survived the incident, but the killer let them live just long enough to be seen by the doctor, who then had to declare them legally dead.

Something about the victims seemed familiar to you, how they’d all come from wealthy families and were sliced up in their expensive clothing, expensive jewelry and watches smashed to bits instead of being stolen. You mentioned it to one of the officiers, who told someone else, and somewhere in that chain of events, your insight helped them catch the killer.

It was then, you thought, that maybe you should be working on the other side of these situations. Stopping the killer before it ever got to this.

Then you’d done a one-hundred and eighty degree spin on your career, electing to pursue becoming an agent. You had been young, and motivated, and you chose to overlook when everyone told you this job might become your whole life, leaving no time for a husband and kids and a family.

You had ignored it all, working your way up from the local field office to child crimes in just a year and a half. The transition out of sex crimes to homicide was disturbingly hard, because at least before you’d had a victim to interview. You were no expert, not yet, but a unique asset altogether, combining a true mission to uncover the best in each victim, and figuring out their behavior patterns from bedrooms and diaries.

It was a unique skill-set, acquired mostly because a lot of traumatized children didn’t offer much to go off of. You had to turn to their childhood homes, toys, and scribbles to figure out what had been going on in the first place.

You reflect often on why you decided to leave child homicide when news spread that the BAU had an opening for one more agent. Truthfully, you hadn’t considered it at all, since you were more than happy with your current position and coworkers. You were solving cases, delivering justice, and bringing whatever comfort you could bring to grieving families.

In fact, you had been requested specifically. You, out of a hundred or more well-established, intelligent agents that could be a huge asset to the team. You were never special, and you didn’t like to think of yourself in that way either, but you couldn’t deny how good it felt to hear that the team wanted you.

And when you transferred over, everyone was so nice. The team was inviting, they respected your opinion, and especially in cases with younger victims, they revered your knowledge. You felt included, and invaluable, and as hard as you worked, you wanted to work even harder.

Your boss was a brilliant agent and profiler, and so hardworking that you wanted to do anything you could to make his workload a little easier. You wrote the most detailed reports, so he would have to edit them as much.. You offered to pick up extra briefs, so he took home a couple less papers. And no matter what you did, acknowledged or not, you knew you were making the kind of difference you’d always dreamed you would.

Aaron—he was only ever Aaron in your head, and Hotch the rest of the time—liked you as an agent, and it made you happy. A little happier than you should be, considering he was happily married with a toddler and a perfect life outside of work. It was almost wrong, but it didn’t stop you from trying to impress him with your work ethic.

You always put aside your other feelings and focused on the team, and somehow in all of that, you felt like you were finally making your difference. You were close with the team and close enough with Aaron, that you hadn’t been worried to start that conversation on the jet now that all these circumstances were changing. Haley had asked for a divorce and he hadn’t muttered a word of it to anyone.

He’s so tired, you can see. You wonder if everyone else notices it too, or if it’s just you observing so closely. He has dark circles now, because he never sleeps, always working, and the furrows on his forehead are seemingly etched in and permanent. He misses his wife and his son, and you know it, and maybe it’s wrong to care about your boss so much that your heart hurts when you see him glancing at the framed photos of his family on his desk, or the tiny polaroids in his wallet, but you do. You think you’re in love with Aaron Hotchner, and you don’t know how to make it stop.

You’re gonna get hurt, you remind yourself every now and then.

Aaron and Spence have just come back from the prison, where they had an encounter with Chester Hardwick that they won’t really talk about. You’d been with the rest of the team in Indiana, and then two days later in Oregon.

Aaron and Haley were divorcing, and it hurt him so much, you knew, because it wasn't for a lack of love. It was a lack of time, a shortness of hours in the day. He couldn’t be the husband Haley wanted and the father he thought Jack needed while being an agent for eighteen hours a day. It hurt you too, seeing him like this. You wish he felt better.

The days and weeks seemed to blend into months. Somewhere in between Hotch’s divorce and JJ’s pregnancy, you had become complacent with your relationship with Aaron. Walking in together from the parking lot, leaving together at the end of a long day—usually alone and sometimes joined by Emily or David. Sometimes you’d have a frothy drink from a nearby coffee shop in your hand—to which you always hear, “My coffee’s not better than that stuff?”

“It’s not coffee, remember-”

“I know, you don’t drink coffee. That stuff is full of sugar. I don’t need you bouncing off the walls like Reid and Garcia too.”

You laugh, and then you wonder if it’s because he really cares or if it was just a passing comment. You share a lot of little moments like that.

When his eardrum was nearly blown out after New York, you almost offered to drive back with him from Ohio to Virginia. It was instinct, because you just didn’t want him to be alone. You had exchanged a glance when he handed you the plate of brownies from the victim’s mother, and you knew he had read your mind. But he didn’t say anything, and you left it at that. You’re not nearly stupid enough to think that your boss reciprocates your feelings for him. Hell, most days you don’t even know what feelings you have for him.

Your seats on the jet are almost permanently fixed; near the coffee machine towards the cockpit. You sit across from each other, and sometimes you don’t even speak. He’ll bring you a cup of hot water, and he doesn’t ask if you need a tea bag from the make-shift coffee station, because knows they’re in your go-bag.

When it’s his weekend with Jack after two weeks of back-to-back cases, Aaron is always working on the reports on the jet. It’s because he’s trying to reduce how much work he has to do at home, and even when everyone’s fallen asleep and your eyes are close to shutting, you get up and make him a cup of coffee. He’s never once told you how he takes it, and he doesn’t know if you’ve seen him make it either, but somehow you know, and it’s always right. When you offer him the steaming paper cup, he looks up at you with an entirely new look—something you’ve never seen before. You two don’t exchange so many words.

He says it all with his eyes, sometimes, even when you’re not looking. It’s gratitude. (When you get off the jet a few hours later, you tease Morgan about his snoring. Derek asks you where his cup of coffee is, and you shove his arm so hard he almost drops his bag.

In the end, it was you who had figured out there was something wrong with the Reaper’s last few victims.

“Why would a nineteen year old girl date her teaching assistant?” You had questioned, looking through a file that everyone’s eyes had already seen. “An honors student, a freshman, I mean, none of this points to an illicit affair with faculty. She knew it was against the rules and her roommates said she’s never so much as skipped class.”

“That could have been because she wants to see him,” Derek interjects. “If they were truly in love like Foyet said, she’d take every opportunity to be with him.”

“But in an environment where no one can know you two are together? I mean, if she was in love and close to getting engaged, wouldn’t she tell her best friends? Her parents? How many teenage girls keep something like that just to themselves?”

The pieces of the puzzle that had once fit together so nicely were coming undone. It felt like the blink of an eye, from catching Foyet to him escaping. Everyone was on edge, no one more than Aaron, and your empathy still knew no bounds. Where you had once been able to focus on work and dedicate all your thoughts to the cases, you now were distracted and distant. Every other thought was about Aaron, as wrong as that might be.

Canada had been something else entirely. It was difficult for the entire team to fathom, but nearly impossible for you. You had lost your temper twice—something you’d never done before— and thrown up when the team discovered all the shoes. JJ had run after you but in the end, Aaron was the one who found you outside.

“I’m sorry, JJ, I’ll be fine—I-I just need a minute,” you breath out, chest heaving and tears brimming.

“It’s okay,” Aaron says, “take your time.”

You turn around so fast, your breath catching, and you hate this situation. You could never hate Aaron but you hate this, you hate that he followed you and that he’s seeing you like this. You look weak, after two and a half years of trying to prove to him that you’re strong—strong enough to handle this job, do what needs to be done, and not cry at a crime scene.

“I-I’m sorry, I-”

“Why are you apologizing?” He doesn’t sound mad, or like he’s belittling you, and you don’t know why that’s what you expected. This is Aaron, your Aaron, and even though he’s not really yours it doesn't seem to matter much right now.

“I’m making a scene. I-I shouldn’t be throwing up on the job or screaming at those unsubs or anything else-”

“It’s okay. It happens.” Aaron says it so concisely, you almost feel better for a second. Isn’t this what it’s always come down to? You need Aaron like air, and somehow he always knows what you need to hear. He doesn’t treat you any differently compared to the others but it feels different today. You can’t describe it in words. If JJ or Morgan had followed you out here, you would have said the same things, but you wouldn’t have felt this way. Like if you crumble here today, Aaron will be there to pick you up.

“Take your time, please,” he repeats. “I know you think you have something to prove to me, but you don’t. You’ve proven it already, to all of us. Admitting that all of this gets to you isn’t a bad thing. That’s what separates us from them.”

At that moment, a dam bursts. Tears flow down your face like they haven’t in so long, as long as you can remember. You think you should feel embarrassed, crying in front of your boss, but Aaron takes you into his arms and you can’t remember the last time you felt this safe. Cheesy, you think, but this is everything I thought it would be and more.

You’re not sure how long he holds you there, but eventually once the front of his shirt is covered in your tears and he offers you a tissue (Does he just carry this around waiting for one of us to cry?) and you head back together. This is the embarrassing part, you think, bracing yourself and biting your inner cheek. But if the team is judging you at this moment, they certainly don’t show it.

You join JJ and Emily inside the house, who ask you if you’re okay when you sniffle for the last time. Spencer asks you later, on the way home. Derek tells you to call him if you need anything. Dave tells you, “You’ll be okay, kid,” and somehow, you believe him. Penelope texts you once on your phone, checking in and promising a distracting, gossip filled girl’s night out soon.

Aaron walks you to your car, and says goodnight. You’re delusional, you think, once you're back at home. You’ve taken the longest, hottest shower imaginable and your record player is emitting the scratchy sound of your favorite Beatles album. You’re in a big shirt that’s getting wet while you brush your freshly cleaned hair and all you can think about is how it felt to be wrapped in Aaron’s arms a couple hours ago.

You are delusional, you remind yourself. You’re checking your phone every couple minutes like a love-sick teenager. You think Aaron’s going to call you to check in, you almost feel it in your bones. You leave the ringer on incase he calls later—maybe he showered and sat down to work on some reports before sleeping. You fall asleep thirty minutes later, exhausted down to your bones, and wake up startled by your phone going off. In your sleepy delirium, you answer without looking who it is—assuming it’s Aaron.

“Hotch?”

“Hey, sorry it’s JJ. We have another case, I’m sorry.”

“Oh, JJ, um, okay, I-I’ll be there in ten. Text the address, okay?” Your cheeks burn at the slip.

“I sent it just now. Listen, I’m sorry, but can you try Hotch’s cell? I called and texted and he’s not answering.” You feel your stomach turn, first because Aaron isn’t answering and he always answers, and second because JJ thinks he’ll answer if you call.

“I’ll try him now. I’ll call you back.”

You try him twice while changing and another time in the car. Your only explanation is that maybe he went to see Jack and put his phone away, but even that doesn’t check out.

When you get to the scene, you inform the others about Aaron not answering.

“Alright, let’s split up for now and I’ll keep trying Hotch,” Derek says. They don’t seem that worried, and maybe that lulls you into not worrying either. After all, they’ve known him a lot longer than you have.

You end up with Spencer and Emily at the doctor’s house, combing through patient files Garcia sent over. There’s tens of dozens, and even though you want to go with Emily to Aaron’s place to get him, you know your experience with kids and in the hospital is vital. You and Spencer start working, but something feels off. You just can’t place it.

In the end, you attribute it to your nerves from the last case. Your fear of embarrassing yourself carried into today, and even though you know no one judged you for losing it in Canada, the feeling lingers. Spencer answers the phone from Emily and says that Hotch was busy with something at the bureau that now requires Emily too. In the end, you and Spence figure it out just in time. Your body is so tired, it hurts, and then on top of that, Spencer gets hurt. You can barely process what’s happening, and you don’t feel better until the doctor says it’s through-and-through.

“God, Spencer, never do that again,” you say, your hands wet with the blood from his wound. You wipe it on your clothes, thinking you’ll change soon.

“Guys, guys listen to me, something’s happened to Hotch.” The blood drains from your face and your breath stops in your throat.

“What?”

“Emily told me not to say anything until we got the unsub, but he’s in the hospital.”

The next hour is a blur. You all show up to the hospital, and Emily is talking to a bunch of agents. Their faces are blurred because you can hardly think straight.

“Em? Is he okay?” your words must be coming out frantically because everyone’s looking at you like you’re about to crumble.

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t say anything because I knew we wouldn’t be able to think straight about the case, I know it’s wrong but-”

“Is he okay?” You didn’t mean to cut her off, it just happened like that. Your mind is so clouded right now with a petrifying vision of Aaron dying alone on the floor of his new apartment that he hates so much, while you were waiting for a call for him.

“He-he hasn’t woken up yet.”

You sit on a chair by Aaron’s bed. He looks like he’s sleeping, and a part of you had always wanted to see him like this. It would be comforting, if he actually was sleeping. You’d imagined it a little differently—you thought for sure he snores and sleeps on his side. You always notice sleep lines only on one arm when you guys have just woken up and continue working on the case. You stare extra hard when he rolls up the sleeves of his dress shirt on particularly hot days. Everyone would moan and groan about another case in the heat of Texas or Arizona, but not you.

It seems like those memories were a million years ago.

When he wakes up, everyone pours in and it distracts you for a few heartbeats. When they realize what Foyet is actually after, the terror is apparent on everyone's faces. You realize how long it’s been since you last saw Haley and Jack when they finally step into the room. You and Emily leave to give them privacy.

Later that night, you’re back in that chair. Aaron wakes up for a few minutes at a time, and when he finally stays awake, he notices you.

“How long have I been out?”

“Thirty minutes. Give or take.”

“Is there water?”

“Yeah, yeah.” You scramble up to get the pitcher and pour him a glass. There’s a straw too, which you put in the cup and hold still for a second so he can drink.

“Thanks.”

“Yeah.” He can see all your emotions on your face. It doesn’t take him long at all, not anymore. You’ve been crying and your clothes have blood on them. He’s alarmed again.

“Is that your blood?” he asks, swallowing hard.

“No, no, Hotch. We had a case, the-the unsub shot Spence. He’s okay though, it just got on me and I haven’t been back home to change yet.”

“Why don’t you? Go home?”

“I didn’t want to leave you.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“I let you go home alone yesterday and look what happened.” You smile meekly at your own joke, hoping he appreciates it. He lies still though, not smiling.

“I think you should go home. Get some rest after everything.”

“You know, Hotch, only you would tell me to go home and rest up when you’re the one who’s currently in the hospital.”

“I just think-”

“Do you want me to leave? If you do, I will. I swear.” There’s silence between you two for a moment.

“No.”

“Good, because I wasn’t going to.” The corners of his mouth turn up a little. You barely even notice it. “I can’t leave now. I don’t want you to sit alone here.” You should stop talking, you think to yourself. But you don’t. “You know yesterday, I got home and the whole time I sat there wondering if you were gonna call my cell. I even turned the ringer up all the way so I didn’t miss it. And I know that’s stupid because why would you call me? But I had this feeling. And now all I can think is why didn’t I call you?”

“Don’t think like-”

“Don’t think like that? Yeah, I knew you would say that. But if I had called you like I wanted to, and asked you to come over like I wanted to, maybe this wouldn’t have happened. But I didn’t because I was scared and I don’t want to be scared anymore. And I know this is the last thing you need to hear right now, but I guess I can’t hold it in any longer.”

You want to clamp your hand over your mouth. Your favorite cheesy rom-coms have infiltrated your brain, and you can’t fathom how stupid you must sound right now to Aaron. He’s just almost died and the kid who was the last to join his team is declaring love for him on his hospital bed. But it won’t stop coming out.

“Can I tell you something Aaron? I mean, more than I already have? Emily said she didn’t tell me you were hurt because she knew I wouldn’t be able to think straight about the case anymore. About anything, anymore, if I knew you were missing or that you were hurt or dead. And I’ve been trying to hide it for so long, because I know you don’t need any more complications in your life right now, but, I think I have feelings for you, Aaron.” Hot tears stream down your face. You try to stop them but you can’t. They’ve been building up for two years.

“Please don’t cry. I don’t have a tissue for you this time.” You smile through your tears, but your entire body is still tense. It’s because you’re still expecting bad news, still waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“Do you want me to leave? I can call Emily, she’ll sit with you if you don’t want to be alone.”

“I don’t want you to leave. And you don’t have to tell me these things, I already knew them.” Another few tears drip down your face. Aaron’s chest hurts more than it has ever before. He thinks back to your conversation on the jet that day, when you told him you cared about him and he hadn’t said much of anything at all. “I hope you know that I have feelings for you, too.”

“You mean you care about me and the team?” you question half-heartedly. You think you’ve already gotten your answer. “I mean I care about the team a lot. And I care about you more than I should, more than what’s right. More than a superior should care about one of their agents. And I think if this hadn’t happened, I would have called you last night. Not because of the case, because of you. Because I need to make sure you’re okay.”

Your heart thumps uncomfortably in your chest. Aaron reaches out his hand a little, and you take it into yours. You sit like that for a long time, and you know there’s so much else going on, but a small part of you sighs in relief. Aaron is okay, and he feels about you how you do about him, and maybe everything will be okay in the end.

The months after Haley’s funeral are tough for everyone. It’s weird going to work and not seeing Aaron. Sometimes you inadvertently make a cup of coffee how he likes it and have no one to give it to. You started drinking some, even though it tastes bitter and terrible, it makes you feel close to him.

How stupid is that, you wonder one day, sipping the coffee and looking over files with JJ. If the rest of the team thinks you're stupid, they haven’t shown any signs of it yet. You’re sure they mostly feel bad for you and your pathetic behavior. You’ve gotten sloppy because you can’t stop thinking about how Aaron is doing.

You and the team will go visit him and Jack at his new place. You make cookies, snickerdoodle for Aaron and oatmeal raisin for Jack.

“What kind of a kid are you?” you questioned, helping Jack scribble in his Captain America coloring book. He’s munching on a cookie while you try to figure out what part of the shield is blue and what part is red. “I mean, who likes oatmeal raisin cookies at the tender age of 5?”

“I did,” Spencer says, taking another one out of the tin.

“You don’t count, genius,” Morgan says, and then directs his gaze at you. “And I mean come on, no chocolate chip for me? None at all? That hurts.”

“I made you some like two weeks ago! I have a job, you know,” you fire back. Aaron laughs, eating the snickerdoodle after dipping it in milk. It’s so domestic, you feel yourself staring. You only turn away when he catches you looking.

When he comes back, you wonder if it’ll ever feel normal again. That silly routine you two had, the chairs on the jet near the coffee machine that you still sit in, walks to your car.

At first, it just feels strange. So much has changed yet the team’s dynamic remains the same. You get through cases with the same ferocity you had when you first started, eager to prove your worth again. Your reports detail every detail and then some, and you stay even later than Aaron some nights. You need something to focus on, and your cases seem like the best option. The other option is to have another conversation with Aaron about your feelings and you think you might die if that happens.

When it finally does happen, it’s plenty embarrassing. You were so sure about your theory about this unsub, so sure that he would confess if he was confronted about his crimes and reminded of the humanity of his victims—three little kids, all under ten. Maybe that’s why it bothered you so much, and that’s why you stormed into the residence even though the rest of the team was screaming at you not to. In the end, you talk him down, but Aaron runs in behind you anyways and nearly spooks the unsub into suicide.

“You do not have the authorization to make calls like that,” Aaron yells at you, and though you had once thought you would die if he yelled at you, it’s all too easy to yell back.

In that moment, when you had known what would happen, dealing with your area of expertise, he stormed in and questioned you and your abilities as an agent and as a profiler.

“I don’t need authorization, I knew what would happen, and I knew how to talk him down without this ending in gunfire—”

“I don’t care what you think you knew. This is a team, and we don’t make decisions that jeopardize a case without agreeing on it!” “You mean you have to agree with every decision I make? I had it handled, Hotch, you almost blew that whole thing up because you didn’t believe in me!”

“That’s not what this is about,” he fires back, and it feels strange to be yelling at you. He can’t recall the last time he’s ever done this. The rest of the team is just packing up in the police station, trying not to overhear but not really having any choice in the matter.

“Yes it is! You don’t trust me! Not to make decisions for this team and for our cases, or for anything. You just proved that back there. You don’t trust me.” It’s happening again. Tears brew in your eyes. They spill down before you can stop it. Aaron softens before your very eyes at the sight of them. “Stop! Stop feeling bad just because now I’m crying, they’re not tears for you, they’re angry tears and I can’t control it-”

“Of course, I trust you.” His voice has dropped from a yell to just above a whisper. “How could you think that I don’t?”

“I’m not stupid, Aaron. I know what I’m doing. My plan was going to work and you shot me down in front of everyone because you didn’t believe in me,” you say between tears. “Nothing’s changed.”

“And what do you think would happen if you stormed in there and I lost you too?” His voice is gentle. You hadn’t noticed that he was so close to you now. You can see the eyelash on his cheek and feel the heat radiating from his body.

“That’s not what this is about.”

“That is exactly what this is about. You think I don’t trust you, so I won’t let you walk into a confrontation alone? That I think you don’t know how to profile, how to handle these unsubs, so I get into a screaming match outside a crime scene? Tell me, does that check with any of my behavior in the years I’ve known you?”

“I don’t know, Hotch, I don’t profile you.”

“You call me Hotch in front of everyone, and especially when you’re upset with me. When it’s just us you use Aaron. You know how I take my coffee even though I’ve never told you, because you pay attention even when no one else is looking. Cases with children affect you the most, especially when it takes us longer to work them, because you think you should be quicker and figure out the unsub faster since you worked with kids before joining the team. You remember the little things everyone says because you don’t want them to think you’re not paying attention to them. You cry about cases when you feel like there’s something more you should have done, even though there’s nothing else any of us can do. And you cry about me the most of all, that time on the jet, in the hospital, and just now because you think I don’t share your feelings. You think I know all this because I’m profiling you, but it’s not. It’s because I pay attention to those whom I love.”

Shell shocked. You are shell shocked at Aaron’s speech, eyes wide and mouth open. You’re sure the rest of the team, hidden behind a bulletin board and the conference table is much the same.

“I’m going to kiss you now. And that’s the end of the conversation about me not trusting you, okay?” You nod dumbly. Aaron’s lips are sweet and taste like his coffee—black, with two sugars. You feel another tear falling but it’s only because you hadn’t expected any of that.

“That took long enough,” David says from behind the partition.

and voila <3

#spent my sunday writing this while rewatching season 3 #putting off prep for my grad school interview b/c this is so much better <3 #hope everyone likes it #criminal minds #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotcher imagine #hotch #hotch imagine #aaron hotch fanfiction

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littlecarmine · 3 months

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AARON HOTCHNER + JACKET OFF

CRIMINAL MINDS (2005 — PRESENT) | 10.05 “BOXED IN”

#tw: flashing #cw: flashing #cmedit #criminalmindsedit #.gif #hotch #aaron hotchner #thomas gibson #aaron hotchner edit #aaronhotchneredit #aaron hotchner gifs #cm 10x05 #criminal minds 10x05 #criminal minds #cm #television #dad bod hotch #for the hotchgirls for being so patient during my hotchatius <3 #qp

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atlabeth · 5 days

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too sweet

pairing: aaron hotchner x fem!reader

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

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

wc: 2.4k

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

Hotch can’t focus.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How do you feel about tequila?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#me ignoring all my wips for a hot man?? it's more likely than you think #also ive listened to too sweet on repeat for like 3 hours i dont want to take my whiskey neat anymore #aaron hotchner x reader #hotch x reader #criminal minds x reader #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner imagine #sadie writes

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lucyswinter · 3 months

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.-‘*•_aaron hotchner dating hcs .•*-.’💗’-.•*

pairing: aaron hotchner x girlfriend!reader

genre: fluff

warnings: some sexual-ish stuff implied

♡ ♡ ♡

-the two of you met after a mutual friend set you up on a blind date. aaron had been a little scared because he thought he was too old to date after his divorce, but after he met you, he was immediately in love

-despite his quite serious demeanour at the BAU office, hotch is such an affectionate and cutesy boyfriend. always showing you and kisses and cuddling you

-he looooves to give you my pet names/praise. “pretty girl” “my love” “sweet girl” “mmm youre doing great sweetheart” “good girl, just like that”

-his groggy morning voice is really sexy and low and he loves to talk to you as soon as he wakes up because he knows it makes you blush

-cuddling is his favorite thing to do at any point in the day. you guys just woke up? he’s pulling you in for the first snuggle of the day. he’s tired after work? his arms are already around you. the two of you are winding down to go to bed? you’re falling asleep in his arms

-after a long day of talking to people and giving orders at work, he loves to listen to you talk about it your day. “oh, sorry am i rambling a little bit?” “no, sweet girl, not at all. i love listening to you, baby.”

-he’s really touchy in a protective way and always has his hands on you. an arm around your shoulder, holding your hand, arm around your waist, slowly snaking down towards your ass

-he doesn’t like to talk about work very much, mainly because it gets pretty heavy sometimes, and he doesn’t want to freak you out by telling you about creepy cases

-first time you ever visited hotch at the office, everyone was absolutely appalled by how sweet he was to you and how quickly he changed as soon as you walked into the room-

-“morgan, this is the last time im going to tell you- oh, oh hey pretty girl! what at you doing here?” “you just forgot the lunch i made you at home so i decided to bring it to you :)”

-derek and garcia are very freaked out at this side of him and keep pestering him because they didn’t know you two were dating. “who are you and what have you done with hotch?” and all he can do is roll his eyes and turn his attention back to you.

♡ ♡ ♡

#aaron hotch fanfiction #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #criminal minds #criminal minds headcannons #aaron hotchner headcanon #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch hotchner #aaron hotch headcannon #lucywrites<3

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greg-montgomery · 4 months

Note

hi hi!! can i maybe request a rly cute and fluffy one shot of aaron just comforting and taking care of the reader 🥹

like maybe there was a thunderstorm in the middle of the night and reader subconsciously just runs to hotch’s room and he comforts her udhaidbsjanxb

also maybe a cute lil age gap to feed my daddy issues pls pls pls

ANYWAYS ILYSM NEVER STOP WRITING, I LIVE FOR UR STORIES BB

hiiii!!! <3333 thank you for the cute request and your sweet words!!!!

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

Nothing would ever beat sleeping in your own bed. Nothing could beat the comfort that the fresh scent of your sheets brought you, or the little light you always left on the entire night since you were a child.

Being away for a case meant you had to learn to sleep without those comforts. And you were really good at it; but the thing you could not get yourself to adjust to, were the unfamiliar sounds of a new place. Sometimes it was the sound of a passing car, and others some annoyingly loud neighbor.

That night it was the sound of a thunderstorm. And the hotel you and the team were staying at was definitely not soundproof enough to let you sleep in peace.

You had been tossing and turning for more than an hour, unable to calm your heart down. It wasn’t just the thunders that scared you; the rain was pouring like crazy and the wind was almost whistling. Suddenly you felt like a little kid again, afraid that the walls weren’t thick enough to protect you from the strength of that storm.

Taking a deep breath you closed your eyes and gave trying to fall asleep one last shot. But at the sound of another thunder, the face of a certain man appeared on your mind.

Hotch.

The truth was when you thought of “safe”, you thought of him: your boss who always had all the answers. Maybe it was his older age or his intimidating appearance but he made you feel like no matter what the problem was, he would fix it. Hotch always made it better.

Without thinking about it twice, you got out of bed and ran to his room. Well, you didn’t have to run much anyway, since his room was right across from yours. He’s definitely awake, you thought; always staying up most of the night to work on the case while everyone else rested.

That was why you were surprised to see Hotch wearing a t-shirt and sweatpants answering his knocking door. But the thing that made you the biggest impression was his disheveled appearance. Sleepy Hotch was the cutest thing you had ever laid eyes on.

“Y/N? Is everything alright?”

“Hotch,” you whispered, “I’m so sorry, I didn’t think you’d be asleep. I’m gonna go back to my room.”

You made a move to turn around but Aaron was faster and grabbed your elbow, gently pulling you into his room.

“Tell me what’s wrong,” he said closing the door once you were both inside.

“I was scared,” you admitted. Seeing him raising his eyebrow in question you continued. “Of the storm...”

You were relieved to see a little smirk on his face. You guessed he was relieved too after finding out that the thing that scared you wasn’t something actually dangerous.

“I’m sorry I woke you up. I don’t know why I’m here.”

“It’s okay.” As tough as Hotch looked, he was the most gentle man you had ever got to know. “You can always come to me about anything.”

And you had the audacity to wonder why he was your safe place?

“I know.”

He sat on the edge of his bed and patted at the spot right next to him, signaling you to take a seat; so you did. You were close enough that you could smell his after shave. It made you dizzy.

“Have you slept at all?” he asked.

“No. And I’m tired.” You let out a heavy sigh. “Maybe I should just pull an all nighter.”

“Nonsense.”

“But-”

“What if you sleep in my room? Will you still be scared if I’m right here?”

Your stomach was suddenly filled with butterflies.

“Wouldn’t that be inappropriate?” you asked.

“I won’t tell if you don’t” he said, and offered you his pinky finger to cross yours with.

You did it with a huge grin. "Deal."

“Come on now,” he said playfully while getting under the covers. Without any hesitation, you did the same, finding your place at the other side of his bed.

It was almost perfect; almost, because his arms weren’t around you, but instead were resting on his stomach.

“Hotch?”

“Hm?”

“Does the offer come with cuddles too?”

“You wanna cuddle with your boss, honey?” he smirked, and reached out his arm so you could curl up in his embrace.

“Yes, please,” you said, and the two of you ended up in each other’s arms. Being around Aaron had always felt safe, but being in his arms? That was a whole new level of safety and comfort.

“Good night, Hotch.”

And just like that the sound of his beating heart made it hard to focus on the rain hitting on his window.

His lips on your forehead and the words “Good night, sweetheart,” were the things that finally lulled you to sleep.

#WAR IS OVER LMFAO I WROTE SOMETHING AGAIN #i missed you and i missed hotch </3 #aaron hotchner x reader #hotch x reader #aaron hotchner #hotch #hotch 🪐#ask

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emilyinsuits · 3 months

Text

#reunited with my laptop and all of my precious emily prentiss screencaps #heavily drugged so don't listen to anything i say on here for the next like 1.5 weeks #she's looking at hotch in that last one btw <3 #criminal minds #emily prentiss #3x19

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hotchs-big-hands · 11 days

Note

https://www.tumblr.com/hotchs-big-hands/746828322146811904/so-this?source=share

The way I would do anything he asked for the privilege of humping his stomach

REAL I wanna ride his tummy cuz that’s more filthy IEUFIDXISJFJ 👉👈

Ofc I’m writing a blurb I caint help it LMAO

18+ only|gn!reader

You usually grind on his thigh, which is heavenly with his strong muscles that he flexes whilst you move. But he’s definitely noticed your love for his stomach. He’s softened with age and for a long time he wasn’t really sure what he thought about that, until you came along.

You’re always complimenting him and when you cuddle on the couch or in bed you love to nuzzle into his stomach or trace your fingers over it. You’re careful, of course, because of the scars covering his torso. But you hadn’t seen his body yet though because he always kept a tee shirt on, including when you were intimate. He was forever grateful for your patience and acceptance that he wasn’t comfortable showing off his body yet. Although, your unwavering affection makes his confidence swell and one day he goes without a tee shirt when he walks into the bedroom where you were curled up on the bed. It made him almost tearful how loving and affectionate you were, kissing his body until not an inch was left untouched.

He knows you love his body, and he loves to see you grinding on him to get yourself off so he gets an idea he wants to try. And so he prompts you when you’re getting it on one night.

You’re rolling your hips down on his lap, kissing Aaron hungrily, hands pawing at his chest desperately. He pulls back suddenly and you whimper in protest. He chuckles softly and holds onto you whilst he shifts back and lays back against the pillows.

“Honey, I want to try something with you tonight.” He says and you’re immediately intrigued. He smirks at you and gropes at your hips. “I want you to ride me.”

You’re confused because you’ve done that before, but you’re nonetheless still enthusiastic. But as you move to grab his thick cock he gently moves your hands away and beckons you with his finger.

“Slide your hips towards me, angel.” You comply, inching forward a bit but he hums. “Closer.”

You’re practically straddling his soft stomach at this point, then it hits you. Oh fuck. He wants you to ride his stomach. He encourages you when you brace yourself with your hands on his chest and with the first roll of your hips he knows this was a good idea. His cock twitches against his lower abdomen as you begin to ease into it now, humming softly and stroking the soft skin of your thighs with his large hands.

“That’s it, grind on my stomach, honey.”

You’re a mess, overwhelmingly turned on by the whole act. It’s filthy, getting yourself off by humping his stomach but you don’t care. You are emboldened when his hand slides past your thigh to grasp his leaking cock, jerking himself off in time with the roll of your hips. You’re not gonna last, and neither is he but you don’t want to try prolonging the edge, instead increasing your speed until you’re whining his name desperately and your body quivers with pleasure. He slips his thumb into your mouth and coos.

“Gonna cum for me, huh? Go on, cum on my stomach, baby.” He purrs and it takes only a little more grinding before you’re collapsing onto him, your orgasm ripping through you as you dig your fingers into his pecs. Aaron moans your name lowly against your chest and you feel the telltale sign of his own unravelling from the spatters of cum hitting your asscheeks.

You both lay there for a little moment as you calm down, then you slowly slide down over his cock with a grin when he hisses from overstimulation. From between his legs you kiss his thigh and pout slightly.

“I made a mess so I’ve gotta clean you up, Aaron.”

He groans loudly and his head falls back against the pillows in anticipation, a smile forming on his lips.

#🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭#:3 I hope yawl enjoyed #aaron hotchner x reader #💌 ah asks #aaron hotchner #hotch x reader smut #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner x plus size reader #aaron hotchner x gn!reader #hotch smut #nsfw.

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criminalskies · 6 months

Note

aaron dating an author and borrowing her laptop to order jack something he showed him earlier and when he opened your search history to find the item again it's the most concerning google search he's ever seen. every fbi red flag is going off. various methods of murdering someone in their sleep and disposing of a body. i mean he only got home from his case last night so now hes starting to wonder if hes about to die by the hand of his own little love.

tried to be sooo casual about the fact your searches looks like an unsubs and was lowkey relieved its just "just because i needed to know if a body would decompose faster if it's been wrapped in plastic or a bed comforter." with a shrug like it's not an insane thing to think about.

his relief wears off instantly though because why do you need to something like that?!

He would be freaking outttttt he goes to search your car while you're still out of the house and checks every nook and cranny for a single weapon, pair of gloves, a garotte, ANYTHING suspicious and after finding nothing there or in your bedside drawer he's only somewhat relieved.

When you get home he's trying so hard to act himself but he has his work-face on (the one that strictly guards any and all emotion on his face) as he suddenly starts asking you about your childhood and if you ever played with animals? 'yeah of course i did, why Aar?' 'oh i'm just wondering if jack needs a pet in his life is all. But I worry he might want to torture it or something. Did you ever torture any animals as a kid?' 'aaron wtf' 'set any fires just to make trouble?? did you wet the bed?' 'AARON WHAT HAS GOTTEN INTO YOU?!"

He turns your laptop to face you, the history in question cutting through the dark room like a beam of horror. "Please tell me you have some insane reason to be looking these things up. Before I have to move Jack out of here and have Garcia turn your life upside down". You see the glimpse of abject horror on his face as he wonders how he has again possibly cast his son into the crosshairs of another serial killer.

You pull up the story you've been writing for your books. Showing him the three thousand word draft you've prepared and a list of questions 'aar might know' you were intending to ask him that night. Or maybe Reid, whoever could explain postmortem etymology to you in thirty minutes or less. Aaron breathes a long sigh of relief when you say you were thinking of throwing the whole story out, the gruesome details having made your stomach churn in ways you weren't sure you could take.

#rome’s wonderful moots! <3 #the incredible itty-bitty-baby-face!#rome’s got mail!#HOTCH MAIL!#aaron hotchner #criminal minds #aaron hotchner x reader #rome’s rambles

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hothothotch · 9 months

Note

hi! can you write a hotch angsty / fluff piece based off the episode of s3 ep 20 where they go to NY and have to work with Kate Joyner and Hotch treats reader like how he did to Morgan and pushes reader aside bc even after reader being there for him after his divorce with Hayley and thinking there was something more but then ends in fluff? :)

hey hey! first i want to say that this ask has saved my life. second, i got carried away again. but i hope you like it, anon s2

(god knows how much i want a part two for this one)

requests are open!

tw: angst, fluff, 5.3k words.

You should have seen it coming.

You’ve been a part of BAU’s team since the departure of Ellie, a quick replacement approved by Agent Hotchner — or Hotch, as the team called him — that took place for the first time after The Fisher King’s case, when Ellie was shot; when she decided working at the BAU was too much to handle, Hotch approved your official transference only a few weeks before Strauss’ approved Prentiss’.

In all honesty, you’d been surprised Hotch didn’t kick you out after that, but grateful nonetheless — you absolutely loved that job.

You had been the first to notice when Hotch’s marriage started to crumble, your own habit of staying late nights at the office giving you a first-row view of the nights he’d stay late and go home only on the early hours of the morning, just to come back fresh and new as if nothing had happened. There wasn’t much you could do to help, even if you wanted to; the fact that Hotch trusted you on the job didn’t necessarily mean that he trusted you enough to let you in on his personal issues, and you didn’t feel like you really wanted to. But, as purple bags started to form under his eyes, a clear evidence that he hadn’t been sleeping, you couldn’t help but start showing small, almost meaningless acts of service that you hoped would make him feel better.

Everything was pretty secretive.

You started to get in the office earlier, so you could leave a cup of fresh coffee on his desk (black with no sugar, as you know he liked), and whenever you went out for dinner, you’d come back bearing something that was small enough so he wouldn’t want to pay for what you brought.

You started daring more only a few weeks into your small endeavor. Instead of only leaving your secret gifts, you started to write small notes in Garcia’s colorful sticky notes (because you had none on your desk, so he wouldn’t know it was you) with encouraging comments, mostly about his job — and, when you were feeling specially bold, about his appearance in general.

You thought nothing of it, and had no idea if he even read them, but the fact that you were doing something to at least try and make things better was enough to warm your heart. Much more when his stern façade would suddenly turn into a lighter one as the day went by, even when you were out on cases and he found a cup of steaming coffee waiting for him, a sticky note attached to it with a unique message handwritten by you.

It wasn’t until the divorce that you felt the urge to reveal your identity.

Hotch had been served the divorce papers in front of the whole team, only a few minutes before they went out for drinks — it goes unsaid that he immediately stepped out of the group, deciding to go home. The team still went out for drinks, but the talks weren’t as fun as they were supposed to be, and the topic in hand was only one: Hotch’s sudden divorce.

“Haley left home a few weeks ago” Derek confessed, playing with his full glass of beer. A few women had come to hit on him, but it seemed like that small and closed group had decided that if one of them was miserable, they all would be miserable that night — and Morgan had been the first to agree to that silent contract, refusing every opportunity he had to get laid that night, “She took Jack and her things and… left”.

“How could she do it?” Penelope had asked, her voice wrapped in a wrath no one had ever seen the blonde bubble of happiness be.

“Hotch is very dedicated to his job, Pen” Emily had replied, her voice as condescending as sad, a clear indicative that while she wished things had been different, that maybe there was a second chance, something they could do to help, she still could understand Haley’s side in this bargain, “We understand that because we do the same, but Haley… she wasn’t one of us”.

And it was true. While any of you were ready to make sacrifices, to jump off cliffs in order to do the best for your job, Haley was just a wife that had to stay closed off at home with her kid, praying that, at the end of the day (or the week) her husband would make it back home.

Now Hotch knew how it felt.

“There’s nothing we can do to help” David had said that night, taking his own glass of whiskey and taking a sip of the sour drink, “Just be there for him”.

David was right. And maybe his words that night had been what prompted you to climb the three-steps of the catwalk’s stair one week later, one hand playing nervously with your necklace as you used the other to knock on Aaron’s door right after Spencer had left to go home, only you and your boss still on the sixth floor.

“Come in”.

Aaron’s voice was imposing, as serious as it had always been; it was curious, you noticed very quickly, how you’ve never seen Hotch falter before — even when he was served the papers, or when he officially announced for the team that he was, indeed, divorced. He had been calm and collected, talking about the topics as if he was making a comment about a case, or about the weather, and the only indication of his unsaid pain was the way his fingers played nervously with the now empty space where you’d been used to see his wedding band.

Just as he was doing when you opened the door, your eyes falling immediately on that spot, as if searching for an indicative that they had decided to try again. The hope painful on your heart.

“I finished the reports from the last case” you said after a few minutes, moving slowly to leave the folders on top of his desk, “And I’ve also filled the late paperwork, I’m sorry it took me a while”.

Hotch looked up at you, his brown eyes scanning your face almost curiously, and you frowned nervously at the prospect of having something wrong with your face, “What is it?”.

“Nothing” Aaron replied quickly, dropping his eyes back to his hands, “I’m sorry”.

You smiled softly at Aaron, moving slowly to take the seat across from him, careful enough to assure him that if he didn’t want you to sit with him, then you’d quickly move out and pretend nothing had happened. When he didn’t, you allowed yourself to place both your hands on top of his desk, your palms up in an inviting manner — you knew Hotch wouldn’t hold your hand, even with the clear offer, but you’d keep offering until he felt like accepting.

“We’re a team, Hotch” you whispered, almost inaudibly, hoping, one more time, not to be overstepping or making him uncomfortable in any capacity, “I know we’re not best buddies…” you teased lightly, adding a ‘yet’ on your mind, “But you still can share things with me. I’m here to help, you know? If you want to talk, ever, I’ll be here, okay?”.

Much for your surprise and happiness, Aaron had wanted to talk, eventually.

The first time was after a child-related case, from where he left with the need to see Jack, but unable to do so because Haley had taken him to his grandparents’ house. At first, when he called you up to his office, you’d thought you’d be reprimanded for a mistake you couldn’t even remember you committed, but you had barely stepped inside the office when Aaron started to speak, his eyes focused on the mess of papers on his desk.

“I want to talk” he said, his voice more painful than you thought it would be, “If you’re still up to it”.

You were. Absolutely.

And just as talking to him, falling in love with Aaron Hotchner was the easiest thing you’ve ever done in your life.

You didn’t notice how it happened, or when you finally realized you were head over hills in love with him, but what you did know was the unspeakable feeling of your heart thundering on your chest whenever he shot a smile on your way, or when he accidentally brushed his hand on your arm when walking past you, or during your nightly conversations, when he’d repeat the words you first told him all those months ago, when you offered your help.

“We’re a team”.

But you should’ve seen it coming.

You should’ve seen it coming when Aaron announced whoever was responsible for that case had called him personally, and not respected the natural order of things in which JJ receives the case and reunites with Aaron to know if it deserves their immediate attention.

You should’ve seen it coming when Derek commented about Kate Joyner being as ass, and Aaron immediately got defensive — and to some extent you believed you had noticed, even if you decided to ignore it, since your body had responded to his defensiveness.

But you didn’t. Mostly because up to that moment, everything was okay.

“You’ll keep throwing theories at me until I tell you to stop?” Hotch asked, and even if his voice was serious and perfectly professional, you could see a hint of a smile on the way his brows weren’t as furrowed as usual, a shy dimple appearing on the corner of his lips.

This, you thought as you observed his clear features, moving from side to side on the chair you’ve been sitting on, your sole duty being waiting for Garcia’s call, or a lead of any form, this is what I love the most about him. His almost smile.

The thought alone both intimidated you and made butterflies dance on your stomach. You loved him.

“I will” you agreed with a resolute nod, your face as serious as possible considering how bad you wanted to laugh, “That’s what I do when we don’t have leads, I try every possible outcome and make you smile every once in a while. Because we’re a team”.

Aaron shook his head, his smile a bit more apparent than before, “A team, indeed”.

“I hope we make a good one”.

You cringed visibly at Kate Joyner’s British accent, not failing to notice how Aaron immediately moved to look at her, a smile creeping up on his lips immediately as he met her eyes — and you felt your heart break even more at the realization that it was the same smile he always gave you.

“They liaised at Scotland Yard”, Emily had teased when you arrived, JJ gasping at the mischievous tone on her friend’s voice. You wondered if any of them noticed how your face fell by the minute, your eyes unable to match any of theirs, heart thumping against your chest because you had noticed how Aaron had looked at Kate.

He wanted her.

In a way he clearly had never — and probably would never — want you.

“Hotchner” you looked up immediately at his serious tone, furrowing your brows as you paid close attention at his words. You saw, with the corner of your eyes, when Derek and Rossi moved closer to the three of you, their faces as serious as Hotch’s, “Does it look like he could be one of our guys?”.

“What’s going on?” Derek asked, his eyes following Hotch’s every move.

“We’ve got eyes on one of them” Aaron replied quickly, and for a second you hoped they’d be somewhere you could get them, that maybe this hell would be over in the next hour, maybe you were remotely close… “He’s on the subway platform at 59th and Lex”.

Your heart stopped beating at that moment, your breath immediately caught on your throat as you turned to face Kate, “We could be there” you muttered, your voice nothing more than an accusing whisper, “If we’d followed Derek’s plan, we could be there”.

“No, we should be there!” Derek retorted, his voice pulling out the anger you’ve managed to keep away from your words, and if your message hadn’t been clearly delivered to Kate, Derek’s had been — it was her fault.

“He’s got a gun” Garcia announced on the other side of the line, her voice wavering slightly at the new information.

“What do we do?” you asked, eyes moving past Kate to meet Hotch’s, “What are we supposed to do?”.

Aaron didn’t have time to reply before Garcia’s voice came through once more, “He shot her”.

God.

“Where the hell are the police?”, Kate’s voice was nervous when she next spoke, walking past you as if you weren’t there, her eyes not daring to meet yours, even if you knew that she didn’t care about the rage you were displaying. She cared about nothing other than Aaron’s impression on her, “This is Kate Joyner with the FBI. We have a murder suspect, subway platform. 59th and Lex”.

“He’s getting away!” Garcia announced, her voice clearly anguished.

Your mind started to work, all the training you ever had in your life — both for the BAU and other Units — coming back to you on that second, drawing you to move closer to the phone, you’re voice commanding, “Garcia, can you get eyes on him above ground?”.

“He’s heading west on 59th Street”.

“If he makes it to the park, we’ve lost him” Kate pointed, clearly worried.

The point was, Kate’s worry meant nothing to you anymore. Not when she was responsible for that; not when her pride got over her job and caused you to lose the only lead you could’ve had.

“And whose fault is this, Joyner?” you asked, your voice as venomous as you could make it sound, both your hands holding tightly at the wooden surface of the desk you’ve been sitting at, “Because from where I see it, is yours”.

The silence between your small group was almost palpable, and you could hear how someone took a harsh breath, as if your words had been like a slap to their face. You didn’t turn to see who had had that reaction, though — you knew the team had a very tunneled vision of you, that the fact you rarely snapped at people made them think you weren’t as fierce as Prentiss, even though they knew you were way more able to stand your ground than Spencer, usually without being overly rude at the source of your dismay.

That wasn’t the case, not that day.

You heard Aaron calling your name, and if it were any other day, maybe you’d have drawn your eyes off Kate to look at him, but you knew if you did this now, you’d backtrack — and God knew you didn’t want to.

“We could’ve had this guy!” you spat, pointing at the phone, “We just had to follow along with Morgan’s plan, which was a good plan, but Ms. I’m-better-than-anyone couldn’t handle hearing that someone was better than her!”.

“That’s not what happened—”.

“Oh, isn’t it?” You cut her off immediately, licking your lips for a second as your eyes kept glued on hers. Not blinking, not faltering. For the first time since you joined the FBI, you allowed the anger to consume you, because it was personal for you.

The way she looked at Hotch was personal for you.

The way they kept their bodies close was personal for you.

The way he had immediately stopped reciprocating you and your feelings whenever she was close, was personal for you.

The way she had the man you loved under her spell was personal for you.

“Even if we were on that platform, odds are he would have moved onto someone isolated” Kate retorted, her voice way calmer than yours.

“Maybe, but it was worthy a fucking shot!” you screamed, slapping your hands against the table, the sound calling the attention of the other Agents around, “Morgan said to put us at express stops. You wouldn’t need any new cop or to take the cops that are working from the streets, you just needed to assign us for this, and you decided not to, just because Morgan said so!”.

“It’s not your place to have this discussion”.

You were ready to spat back, maybe even to move closer to Kate and tell her that if she failed to do her job, then it was time someone else do it. But the voice that called you out wasn’t Kate’s.

You faltered, your voice suddenly getting caught on your throat as you turned to face Aaron, his eyes void of emotion as he looked at with you a grave expression, only one message written on his face: shut up, or you’ll see the consequences.

“My…” you stuttered, “My place?”.

“You need to back off” Aaron moved on, “We’re here to give the profile, that’s what we’ll do”.

“We have seven bodies, Aaron!” you said, but your voice had lost the strength it had when you were discussing with Kate, your anger turning into something way more painful. Painful for you, “Seven bodies. A woman was just killed on a subway platform because of her incompetence and you’re telling me to back off?”.

You hated how your voice broke on the last phrase, clear evidence that you were on the verge of tears. And you hated that he was a good enough profiler to see it, but he chose to ignore, because he was favoring her over you.

“You said it right, we have seven bodies” Aaron agreed, “Which is exactly why we need to stay focused”.

Derek snorted, drawing your attention back to him, “Pretty rich coming from the man who can’t stay focused on anything but her”.

As if it couldn’t hurt you more.

Aaron didn’t flinch, his eyes meeting Derek’s as he finished the almost inexistant space that separated the two of them, his voice low and passive — the tone he always used when talking with a suspect, “Take a walk. Now. You both”.

All you needed was for his eyes to meet yours for you to know you were done. With this case; with Kate Joyner; with Aaron.

“I’m out” you announced, messily grabbing your things and throwing them on your pockets, trying your best not to unravel then and there, where Kate could see how much she had affected you — how much their actions had affected you, “Out of this precinct. Out of this case”.

You walked past Aaron without sparing a glance at him, making a beeline towards the elevator. And for a second you thought about ignoring the way he called you, aware that you wouldn’t be able to look at him without the tears falling down your face, without you pouring your heart out to the man you ultimately loved, but that couldn’t reciprocate your feelings.

But you stopped, anyway. You stopped because a part of you hoped you’d see the man you’ve grown fond of in the past months; because you expected him to apologize, to say that you were right, or just say something… because if he didn’t, you might as well give up on him.

Ask me to stay, you pleaded, just ask me to stay.

“You can’t walk away from this case”.

You snorted at his cold words, and even with your back turned to him, you knew his face was still cold as stone, the Unit Chief, not your friend, “I can. And I will” you finally found it in yourself to turn and face him, the first tears falling down your face, “I’ll tell Strauss I couldn’t handle it, that it hit too close to home. Don’t worry, I’ll take the plane back to D.C tonight, I don’t want the jet and won’t make the Bureau pay for a bedroom for me. It won’t ruin your budget”.

“Why are you acting like that?” he asked, and you allowed yourself to bask on the way his own voice faltered, the way his closed demeanor changed at the sight of your tears, but it only lasted one second before you looked over his shoulders, finding Kate looking straight at you, clearly curious.

Suddenly there was no way you’d walk out without saying everything you needed to say.

“You really don’t know?” you questioned, “Okay, so I’ll tell you, Aaron” you made a pause, fidgeting with your necklace once again, trying to find the courage you needed to let it all out — everything and nothing at the same time, “I’m so in love with you, Aaron. I’ve been from the moment you started opening up to me. And to see you dismissing my opinion, acting like I’m nothing more than just an AIT who has no idea what she’s doing here, it hurts…” your voice was nothing but a mumbled hiss, the tears now staining your shirt, and you were unable to stop them, even when you violently wiped them away with the palm of your hand, “It hurts because I thought maybe… maybe you were feeling the same. Maybe you were opening up to me because you wanted me to be a part of your life, more than a friend, but a real partner… I thought we were a team, but I see I was wrong”.

You allowed yourself to look desperate, broken, out of place for one more second as you watched the way his demeanor changed as he processed every word you’ve said. You noticed with a heavy heart when it stopped, when he finally took in the meaning behind your words, and then…

Then you saw nothing.

And that only made your heart break even more.

“As I said, I was wrong” you repeated, pressing the elevator button violently, “I’m sorry, Agent Hotchner. I hope the case ends well. I’ll hand you my resignation once you’re back home”.

And without a word more, you left.

…

Prentiss called to let you know the case had ended only two days after you left — not that you wanted to know, but you had told Hotch you’d hand your resignation once he was back, so you were grateful she called. She didn’t ask if you were okay, because you clearly weren’t, and you were grateful for that, too (even if Derek and Penelope did call to know if you were feeling okay).

Aaron didn’t call.

He didn’t reach out.

Didn’t send a message or an email.

He was dead silent.

You had learnt from Derek that Kate Joyner had been killed on an explosion meant to hit her and Hotch, and that Morgan had driven him back to Quantico once Aaron was cleared from the hospital. He didn’t need to tell you, but you knew he had talked to Aaron (or either talked while Aaron listened) about what you said before leaving, about your feelings and how you were ready to resign because of the way he treated you; you also knew from his voice that he wanted you to ask what had been Hotch’s answer to their talk, but you didn’t want to know. Your heart was already too damaged to accept another blow.

It had been around the third day since the end of the case when someone knocked on your door. You had asked the team not to come over, not wanting them to see you on the state you were — hair disheveled, eyes puffy and red from crying —, and much less have to answer to questions you weren’t ready to answer; but you had been receiving a visit from your neighbor, Mr. Clark, who had caught you crying alone once and since then had been visiting you on the same hour everyday to make sure you were doing okay.

He was also helping you look for new jobs, even if he was trying to convince you to do something less dangerous than working for the FBI. It wasn’t working.

“Hello, Mr.—” you cut yourself off immediately when your eyes met the newcomer, your lips slightly parted as you took in his image, “Agent Hotchner?”.

You noticed how he flinched at your words, moving slightly back as if you had shot him straight on the heart, and not just called him by his title. Still, Aaron tried to keep himself perfectly composed (as always), one hand hiding something on his back as he fidgets with his fingers with the other.

If you hadn’t spent the past weeks crying over him, you’d have found it adorable.

“What are you doing here?” you asked sharply, your eyes scanning him one more time before you stopped to find his eyes, almost losing yourself on their brown — almost green, depending on the light — immensity.

“I wanted to talk to you” Aaron replied, rolling his eyes at the notice of how obvious his words were, “I wanted to apologize”.

You tilted your head to the side, your body clearly blocking his way inside your apartment — something you’ve never done before, “Okay. Done. You can go now”.

Your words were harsher than they’ve always been, void and certain, mostly because you knew you still loved him, and that if he asked to go inside, you’d allow. You’d buy anything he said in order to feed the fantasy of you two being more than friends, of the possibility of you being what you wanted you to be.

“Can we talk?” Aaron pleaded, taking a step towards you, “Please”.

“Why? So you can ignore everything I said at the precinct and cry over Kate’s death?” you spat out, and maybe you shouldn’t have talked about someone’s death with the coldness you’ve done, but you were honestly tired of Aaron and his bullshit, “I offered myself to help you, Aaron, because I knew you were suffering over your divorce. And if for some miracle Haley and you decided to go back together and try again, I’d swallow my feelings and let my heart break as I watch you and her trying to rebuild what you had, because I know how much you suffered over losing her. How much you miss being Jack’s father everyday…” you raised one finger, pointing directly at Aaron’s heart — the heart you still loved more than everything, “But I’m not stupid. I won’t let you step on my feeling to cry over another woman after I’ve told you how I feel, after I’ve pathetically confessed my love to you. I’m worthy more than that, Aaron! I deserve more than someone who only needs me when they’re emotionally vulnerable. I deserve to be loved, Aaron!”.

Aaron was silent for a moment, his eyes scanning your face as he observed the first tears rolling down. You thought he wouldn’t say anything, that maybe he’d only move away as you told him to, but he didn’t.

He took a step towards you, using his free hand to clear your tears, “I know” Aaron whispered, licking his lips, “And I should’ve thought about it, about your feelings, before putting mine on top of them. And I apologize, even if I know it’s not enough”.

No, it wasn’t. Because merely apologizing wouldn’t erase the memory of him observing as you poured your heart out and dismissing it on behalf of another woman. It wouldn’t erase the comments, and how he belittled you. It wouldn’t erase the pain you’ve felt on the plane back, or how pathetic Erin Strauss made you feel for abandoning the field over personal problems.

“I didn’t notice you were in love with me because I was trying to brush past the fact that I had fallen in love with you, of how inappropriate it would look like for Strauss, of how it could jeopardize your career…” Aaron cleared his throat, looking at the ground, “And how bad I felt over the fact that you were trying to help me with my marital problems, and I was too busy noticing how beautiful your smile is. I didn’t believe it was right for me to fall in love with you, because I didn’t deserve someone as pure as you”.

You remained silent; your arms crossed in front of your body. You knew there was something else he wanted to say, so you allowed him to.

“I imagine you heard someone talking about how… how much Kate looked like Haley”.

You snorted bitterly, and that seemed to attract his attention back to you, “Everyone. Even I thought that when I saw her”.

Aaron nodded slowly, this time his eyes didn’t move from yours, “When I saw her, all I could see was Haley. And I tried to convince myself that the fact I was shaken by that meant that I was still in love with Haley, and that I didn’t have to worry about my feelings for you, that I wouldn’t mess up our friendship because there weren’t feelings between us… but whenever I looked your way, or talked to you, I’d feel my heartbeat faster. And when I looked at Kate, I felt… empty. As if I was staring at an old ghost” he confessed, and you could see on his demeanor how confessing that pained him — either because he was confessing in a way that he wasn’t in love with Haley anymore, or because he felt bad speaking ill of the dead, you weren’t sure, “So I tried to force myself into find that old spark, the way I felt for Haley, something that would prove to me that I wasn’t in love with you, but I failed. And I failed you in the meantime”.

You took a sharp breath, hating yourself for the way you started to play with your necklace, “Where does it put us, Aaron?” you asked painfully, “Because I won’t go through that again”.

Aaron took his hand off his back, showing you the small Tifanny box he had been hiding, your breath getting immediately caught on your throat as you reached for the object hesitantly, “I’m not proposing to you” he clarified at the look on your face, “I couldn’t, not after just getting divorced… and I also can’t be in a relationship with you, now. I want to, but I need to settle things with Jack before I bring someone knew into my life, and I need to prove to you that I mean it when I say I love you”.

“Aaron…” you whispered, opening up the lid to reveal a golden lock pendant, one that you knew all too well — one you had nonchalantly commented with Aaron you wanted, but thought nothing of it, believing he hadn’t paid any mind at your words. He had, “I can’t… I can’t accept it, I—”.

“I’m not trying to buy your forgiveness, I’m not stupid to think you’d accept a gift in exchange of it” he cut you off, “But I want you to keep it as a promise that I’ll try to make it up to you every day, until you can forgive me. And that I’ll wait for you ‘til my last breath, if needed”.

You looked up at Aaron, nodding slowly.

You knew by the look on his face that you’d be the one leading them from that moment on, that if you wanted to just get the necklace and tell him to go, he’d go without missing a heartbeat. But you didn’t want it. Aaron was willing to try, to win your forgiveness and to respect your feelings in a way he hadn’t before.

“We’re a team” you muttered under your breath, opening up a smile.

So maybe you owed it to yourself to try, too.

Aaron gave you a similar smile, nodding, “We’re a team. The best team”.

And as you took a step to the side, inviting Aaron to enter your apartment, you knew you had already forgiven him.

Thank you for the request ✨

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #criminal minds #hotch #hotch x reader #hotch x you #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner oneshot #anon <3

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hotchgirlsummer · 1 year

Text

i'm a mess but

⤷ aaron hotchner x reader

summary ⤷ Aaron has this date all planned out but things seem to fall apart and they're forced to improvise.

pairing ⤷ aaron hotchner x fem!bimbo!reader

warnings ⤷ fluff! slight angst - reader opens up about her horrible dates. aaron mentions haley, her death, and how he feels about it (briefly). not a warning but jack and jess make an appearance!

word count ⤷ 7k words

a/n ⤷ HELLLOOOOOO! i wasn't really expecting the first part to blow up but the support and love i received in my first bimbo!reader fic was so overwhelming 🥺🥺🥺 thank you to everyone who read the first one and i hope this second part lives up to your guys' expectation and to your liking. i received three requests involving aaron and bimbo!reader so i'll be working on the two before incorporating the third request in part three of this saga! also i have a possible plot for spencer reid x bimbo!reader and i'm trying to gauge if you guys would be interested in that? as always, feedback is appreciated. have a day as fantastic as yourselves!!! ❤️❤️

masterlist | part one: mess of mine

✪

“And just as a reminder, we will be having the weekends off for this month as Strauss has deemed we deserve a break after the continuous cases that took away most of our time,” Hotch reiterates before they end their final meeting for the week. This announcement was met with cheers and applause by the rest of the team. “Anyway you can have them extend our weekends off for the next, say, 12 months?”

This time Hotch cracked a smile as he gathered his files and into his folder as he shook his head, “Only way you can have that is by making a wish to a genie.” The team looked among themselves, each of their faces etched with surprise and amusement as they rarely got to witness their unit chief ride in on their jokes; behind their entertained expressions, they were curious as to what prompted this change. Rossi schooled his expression as well, despite knowing about the cause for Aaron’s welcome change in demeanor, he knew that his friend wanted to share the little ray of sunshine he found on his own terms. “If there’s nothing else, you all are dismissed for the rest of the week. Have a good one.”

As the team slowly dispersed out of the room, Hotch found Rossi smirking at him to which he raised an eyebrow at him, “Penny for your thoughts, Dave?” To which the mentor looked around the round table to ensure that everyone but them had left, “So, I’m assuming tonight’s the first date then?”

The faintest shade of red littered Aaron’s cheeks as he nodded and exited out of the room, “Tonight is the first date, yes. I’m picking her up after her shift at 7.”

Rossi looks at his watch and smiles upon seeing that their unit chief had a solid hour prior to picking up his date for the night. “Normally I’d wish someone good luck on their first date,” Hotch appreciated in that moment how Rossi leaned into his ear to whisper that as to not catch the attention of the nosy profilers, “But something tells me you would not need it in this scenario. Have a great weekend, Aaron.”

“You too, Dave. Try sticking to one jazz club this time, yes?”

Chuckling when Rossi flipped him off, Aaron hurriedly packed all of his things in his briefcase before heading out of the office. As he waited impatiently for the elevator to bring him to the floor of their parking lot. Turning on the radio, Hotch found himself smiling upon hearing a pop song — that he once was not familiar with until he started talking with Y/N. What started as constant texts, transitioned into hour long phone calls where their topics of conversation ranged from her opinions on how the internet’s influence on fashion trends have both been good and bed, her singing him the new song she had stuck in her head — which explains how he was now familiar with a lot of the songs that were played in the radio — but the one thing that seems to be a constant subject is how he would look good in certain styles of clothing.

Once home, he was delighted to see that Jack had been all cheery from his day at school and soccer practice. He indulges in his son’s excited recollection of his day, relishing in the giggles he let out everytime his son praised the dinner that was prepared for him; though it was just chicken nuggets, mashed potatoes, and some fries, he supposes that if it were made with love it would taste like a fine meal. It was like time passed by quickly after their meal as Jack was already bathed and dressed in his jammies before 6:45. After a quick chat with Jess, he was out the door and anxiously driving to the boutique. Once parked right out by the store, he was just in time to see his sweetheart exiting the front door and closing the aluminium security shutters. Jumping out of the car, he surprised her by gently pulling her back and lowering the shutters. “Aaron!” Came her surprised giggle, hugging his arm and looking at him like he was her whole world. “You’re here!”

“I did promise to take you out on a date, right?” He teased once he was sure the chutters were secured. Chuckling, she nodded her head as she smiled widely, “You did! And I was so excited for our date, you know? Phoebe got so annoyed with me talking her ears off about how handsome you were and how nice you are.”

Grateful that she was too busy rambling so she couldn’t witness Aaron blushing, he walked her to his car, opening the passenger door to reveal a bouquet of pink and white flowers; handing them to her with a smile he spoke, “For you, sweetheart.”

“Aaron! They’re so pretty!” She squealed excitedly and threw her arms around him, nuzzling her face in his shoulder, “Thank you, thank you! You’re spoiling me way too much already!”

“Well I have to, sweetheart,” He explained as he helped her in the car before quickly jogging to the driver’s side and continuing on, “Have to treat you like a queen, you know?”

“Does that mean you’re my handsome king?” Her question had him reciprocating the sweet smile she had on before reaching for her hand and placing a kiss on her knuckles and affirmed, “I’ll be whatever you need me to be, sweetheart.” And in turn, that made heat spread throughout her face.

The drive to the restaurant was short yet filled with so much light and conversation. Stepping out of the vehicle once Aaron opened the door for her, she smiled at him, “Thank you, Ay-ay-ron.”

Before entering the restaurant, the couple were met with views of disgruntled customers, some of them having wet stains on their dresses while others seemed to have food stains on them. Puzzling her, she looks up at Aaron, “I wonder if they’re alright.”

They were about to find out for themselves upon reaching the host’s stand and announced their arrival, “Reservation for Hotchner, please.” The host who had their back turned faced them with an uneasy smile as they too were trying to rid the blemishes and food stains that unfortunately clung onto his work clothes; he looked down on the their tablet that served as their scheduler and frowned upon looking up at them, “I have to sincerely apologise, Mr. Hotchner. There has been an unfortunate incident, one of our servers tripped which caused this domino effect to the other servers, causing them to drench our customers and staff in food. Not to mention that one of our new chefs in training caused an identical chaos at the back.”

“You can use a butter knife to get rid off the food there,” She pointed to both the host’s shoulders that had some food residue that looked very well edged in the fabric; next thing she noticed wine stains by their chest, “And for the wine, putting hydrogen peroxide and dishwashing liquid in the stain for about ten minutes will get it out.” The way she shared the information so casually paired with the way she tilted her head to the side and pursed her glossy lips made it all the more surprising that she new what to do; but beside her, Aaron felt nothing but pride swell in his chest as he pressed her closer to him by her waist.

“I appreciate your advice, ma’am,” The host then faced Aaron once more before saying, “Unfortunately we are not in any capacity to entertain our beloved guests for the rest of the evening. We’ll put a note to put you in our priority list for next time if that sounds fair?” Nodding as he held back a frown of his own, the unit chief understood that things were past their control, “That would be much appreciated, thank you.”

With that the couple then left the restaurant, Aaron tried to school his features as he tried to hide the panic in his face; however as Y/N looked up to see him she pouted as she saw that there was a slight furrow in his eyebrows. Reaching up to rub the skin between them she cooed, “Don’t frown, Aaron. Why are you even frowning?”

Almost immediately a smile replaced the mentioned frown as he explained, “Well since the restaurant is a bust, I’m sensing that I’ve just wasted your time, sweetheart. The date’s pretty much ruined already.” Her offended gasp took him aback, causing them to stop just as he was about to open his car door for her, “Well good thing a dinner is not the only you go out for a date! Plus, you just saved me, you know?”

“Saved you from exactly what, sweetheart?”

“From having a fancy dinner! Don’t get me wrong, the décor looks amazing and all, but sometimes their menu is so hard to pronounce too! Like just say roasted, why use sweltering? And don’t get me started on their alcohol — bordeaux, wine, brandy? It’s all just so confusing,” As he walked her to the passenger seat and helped her in, he just chuckled lightly as he tried to console her, “They do tend to differ in ingredients and alcohol percentage.”

“Even you get it,” She whines out to which he now smoothed the furrow she had which quickly disappeared upon feeling his touch in her skin. Swiftly moving to the driver’s side, Aaron looked at her with a soft expression before asking, “Why don’t I get your mind off of it then? How would you like to spend our time together?”

His heart melted at the excited grin she had as she thought deep about how to spend their date before rambling, “We could go bowling in this place on 6th Avenue, oh but they have league games today. Oh! How about we go to this drive-in theatre just by the outskirts of town?” Just as he was about to agree to her suggestion she pouted once more, “But wait, their movie for tonight is a kid’s one, Megamind, I think.” Her excited gasp accompanied by her light taps to Aaron’s shoulder made it evident how excited she was by her current idea, “We could go right into the city centre! They have different kinds of food trucks this day of the week!”

“You sure that’s what you want, sweetheart?” He got her affirmation as she buckled her seatbelt up and nodded, “Sure do, Aarbear! I heard there was a food truck that would sell raspberry and cherry cotton candy.”

“Aarbear?” He questioned the nickname although he could not deny the warm feeling that washed over him upon being granted to him. She hummed, “Ever since we last saw each other, I’ve been thinking of cute nicknames for you; since you call me sweetheart. Aarbear is my favourite just because you remind me of a teddy bear. Just so snuggly and cute.”

“Snuggly and cute? Sweetheart, have you taken a good look at me? I’m the farthest thing from that don’t you think?” Aaron playfully countered as he relished in their playful banter. “You know what? Yeah, I have taken a good look at you and if I say so for myself you always look dashing and,” Her train of thought was cut off when she gasped out loud and saw the coat he was wearing, “And I thought I told you to wear the pink suit I got you! Why didn’t you?”

By that time, they had already reached the public parking that was allocated for the food truck event, Aaron looked at her chuckling as he thought she wasn’t serious about her little plan for the pink suit she gifted him; but upon seeing her expression which consisted of a frown with her wobbly lips and a furrowed brow, he knew that it was serious and important to her. Hoping to appease her feelings, Hotch then lifted his hand up to rub on her cheek gently and as she nuzzled herself deeper into his warmth, “I’m sorry, sweetheart. But I might have mentioned it before, but I don’t really know how to pair up clothes, you know? That’s why my suits and slacks have always matched.”

Placing her chin centre on his palm, she shoots him a smile as her upset expression now melting into an excited one as she speaks, “Does that mean I get to dress you up? I get to rifle through your wardrobe?” Removing herself from his hold, they both tried to ignore how empty it felt when they were not within each other’s reach; but to help diminish the emptiness they felt Y/N then laced her hand with his large one and grinned, “Next time we go out for a date, we go to your house first so I can dress you up and make you even more handsome! Oh there’s this new sweater line that came out and I wanna see how the sweater brings out the brown in your eyes.”

“Already planning our next date, sweetheart? You already want me around you that much?” Unsure of whether he can handle the truth of her answer, Aaron kissed her knuckles as he made his way out of the car and opened the passenger door for her. Leaping out to wrap her arms around his large figure as she hummed against his shoulder, “I sure do, Aarbear. So hopefully you don’t get sick of me right away.”

“I don’t think I could ever get sick of you, sweetheart,” Aaron reassured her as they began walking towards the plethora of food trucks that were present in the little festival going on, “Besides, the only thing I plan on getting sick on is a ton of cotton candy. Was raspberry your favourite flavour?”

Failing to hide how giddy she was at his sincere revelation, she smiled as she laced her fingers with his and dragged him to where the food truck that sold cotton candies were. “I do like the grape-flavoured ones, do you have a favourite?” It was in that moment that Aaron wished he had a camera permanently lodged into his brain so he could capture the way her eyes sparkled as she inquired more about his interests. He hummed as they stood in line in front of the food truck, “I don’t think I’ve explored enough of these flavours to have a definite favourite.”

Her gasp paired with the soft tap on the shoulder was another thing that was quickly becoming a favourite of Aaron’s. Upon reaching the front of the line, Y/N took charge and ordered three kinds of cotton candy. As she reached down for her wallet, she was caught off guard at how quick her date was in tapping his own credit card against the machine.

“Aaron! Why didn’t you let me pay?”

The two walked a few feet away and sat down on the bench nearby before he smiled and pinched some cotton candy and offered it to her, “Now what kind of man would I be if I even let you touch your wallet throughout our date?”

Returning the favour by feeding him some cotton candy as well, she pursed her lips as she concluded, “A handsome gentleman, still. And don’t ever think differently.” From there on they fell into an easy conversation which ranged from childhood shenanigans to workplace happenings. For Y/N this was a complete 360 switch to see Aaron’s eyes crinkled in joy and his posture relaxed; seeing him so serious and stiff on their first meeting gave her the impression he’d be too uptight. In her mind, she’d do anything to keep the beautiful smile on his face. “Wait, so Garcia was able to access the file that I didn’t know the password to?”

“Took her less than five minutes to do that, sweetheart,” Aaron informed her as the two wiped their mouths of any crumbs and threw the container in the trash before strolling once more to get more food, “What else are you in the mood for?”

“Can we get some tacos? It’s been quite a while since I’ve had some,” With that Aaron led the way as he spotted the specific truck sooner, “So Garcia can hack into anything?” As they stood in line in front of other patrons, Y/N made sure to only whisper her question so as to not attract any unwanted attention from curious ears, something that did not escape Aaron’s observant nature and something he appreciated.

“Absolutely, it only takes her about ten minutes to do so. There’s rarely anything she can’t crack,” He answers, however he’s left more puzzled as she stands on her tiptoes and whispers in his ear, “Do you think she can hack into something for me?”

“What exactly do you need to get hacking into, sweetheart?”

At that, her glossed up lips — which compared to last time that was a soft red shade, this time around she had a flushed pink hue with a slight shimmer to it — formed a pout as her eyebrows furrowed in frustration as she recounts, “Because I signed up for Snapchat a year ago and then now I forgot which password I used to it, it reached to a point where I’ve tried so many times that they told me I’m no longer allowed to try guessing. And I wanna get access back to it because everytime I take a cute selfie of myself I send it there.”

By the end of her story, they reached the front of the line and Aaron paused their conversation for a while to order for the two of them; his heart fluttered when Y/N patted his shoulder gently as she whispered, “Extra cheese on mine, please.”

Once they were handed their food, the two stepped away and once again found a bench to give them privacy. Before even taking a bite from her taco, she faced him and her face was once again etched with concern, “So? Do you think Garcia will help me? I can give her a cute little outfit in the boutique if she does. Or whatever else she wants, promise.”

Smiling at her as he allowed his first bite to go down before replying, “I’m sure she’d love to assist you even without the promise of repayment.” She was midbite when she looked up at Aaron, cheese at the side of her mouth as she seemed confused with what he meant before he clarified as he wiped the corner of her mouth with a napkin, “I’ll let her know you need help, sweetheart.”

Shrieking out of excitement wasn’t the only way she expressed her relief but also with the way she tried her best to wrap her arms around him without causing both their tacos to crack as they hit the ground, “Thank you, Aar! Can’t tell you how happy I am to hear that! Do you think Garcia will like cupcakes or cookies more? I’ve been meaning to bake since it’s been a while, you know.”

“I know for a fact she wouldn’t mind either one, sweetheart,” He leaned closer as if he was sharing a secret and whispered in her ear, “But I do know you and her will get along well.”

Her nose scrunched up in excitement as she shimmied her shoulders in a little dance, “You did mention she likes little quirky gadgets and she dresses a lot like I do. Maybe she and I can go shopping sometime? You mentioned you work with other ladies too right? Alexa and GG?”

“Alex and JJ, sweetheart,” He gently corrects her as threw his napkin after finishing his taco in the nearby bin, “But yes, I’m sure they’d love to meet you. Maybe in the near future we can set that up?”

Her excited nod caused some of the taco sauce to spread past her lips, prompting Aaron to wipe the sides of her mouth as she replied, “Do you think they’d like me though? Some people I’ve met before say I’m too much or you know,” The slight pause between her train of thought made him worry about what previous perceptions were about her so he encouraged her on, “Know what exactly, sweetheart?”

Perhaps it was the way he gently coaxed her or the way he rubbed her back was full of care but it got her talking as she mentioned, “It’s just, people like my friends say that I’m dumb, that I’m no fun to be around with,” She sniffled a little which proved to be the wrong thing to do as it accidentally got some sauce on her nose, to which she scowled a little and threw the wrapper away and she felt a sudden wave of shyness take over her as Aaron was quick to wipe by her nose, “I don’t have very many people who stay — except for my family, I guess, but they don’t really have that much of a choice — so I don’t know,” She looks up at him and it was only then that Aaron got a good look of her eyes that had a glimmer of both hope and sadness, “I’d really like for you to stay, Aar.”

“I’d like that too,” Came his immediate reply as he brought her into his warm embrace, tucking her head underneath his chin as he tried to get across every ounce of affection he had had for her, “I promise I’ll keep you close to me, sweetheart.”

Slightly detaching herself from his hold to take a good look on his face, she smiled up at him, “Have I ever mentioned that you’re one of the most handsome men in the world? If not the most? Like, inside and out,” She pulled away fully from his embrace and frowned as she recalled her statement, “No wait, I don’t think it works that way. Do you mind being called beautiful? I know some guys are uncomfortable with that. Or maybe I can call you a pretty boy?”

Shaking his head at her silly antics he just kissed her forehead and teased her, “I thought Aarbear was the nickname you had for me?”

“I guess that’s just one of the struggles for when you’re the most perfect man in the world, hm? Having too many options for a nickname since you’re everything good,” she giggled.

Just as he was about to reply with some sort of a witty comeback, the shrill tone of his phone broke them out of their trance. Dread filled his gut immediately at the thought of a case whisking him away from a great date; he shot her an apologetic expression before saying, “Sorry,” And answering the phone and being pleasantly surprised that it was just Jess calling, “Jess? Is everything alright?”

Deciding to keep herself preoccupied while Aaron tends to his call, Y/N mindlessly grabbed for his free hand and slowly traced over the lines on his hand and smiled upon noticing how much larger his hand was and when she lined up her hand against his, she rubbed the skin of it and realised that she could get used to the warm feeling of his touch.

“I’m sorry about that, sweetheart,” Aaron apologised as he pocketed his phone and that seemed to break her out of her trance as she looked up at him and mirrored the small frown he was sporting, “That was Jess, she’s the aunt of my son. She said he awoke from a nightmare and won’t calm down. Apparently, he’s been asking for me and refuses to go back to sleep until he sees me.”

“Then you should go to him,” Was her instant reply as she stood up on her feet and held out her hand for him to take, “Let’s go to your sweet boy, Aarbear.”

Taking her by the hand, he smiled at her as he led the way back to the car he decided to check in with her, “I’m sorry to spring this on you, sweetheart, but I’m a single father to a five year old.”

Upon being helped into the passenger seat she waited for Aaron to buckle himself in beside her before asking, “So what’s he like? And what’s his name?” The unit chief could not hold back the smile from how sincere she was in her curiosity. “Jack is a talented soccer player, he’s slowly getting into music and he can’t wait to audition for their spring play. I will say though he takes a lot of traits from his mom, which might be a good thing for him, honestly.”

Scoffing in offence, she gently scolded him, “Do not talk about yourself in that way, Aarbear! You’re smart, kind, funny, always keeping alert and all that. You have a lot of good qualities, you know.” There was a comfortable silence that took over for a few minutes before they were at a red light where it got Y/N thinking, “Wait, so if you have a son he has a mother, right?”

“I do believe that is how biology works, sweetheart,” His lighthearted joke was his attempt to soften the upcoming difficult conversation they were definitely going to have in light of her recent discovery of his son.

“Where is his mom then? Wait,” She panicked as she looked at him and gently held onto his forearm, “Oh God, please don’t tell me I’m making you cheat on your wife. That I’m not the other woman.”

Her somber pout while adorable made his heart clench as he realised she was concerned about what Haley meant to him as it shows how serious their relationship is to her. So he reached over the console and rubbed her knee comfortingly, “You’re not the other woman, sweetheart. Jack’s mother, Haley, is not in the picture.”

“Why not? Is she okay?”

Her kind nature came through once more and every time Aaron has a glimpse of it, it makes him feel like he’s in this trance-like dream where his dream woman came to life by merely manifesting it. “She unfortunately passed away. We had this unsub — bad guy — who went after me and my family.”

“I’m so sorry to hear that, Aar,” Y/N sympathized once Aaron was parking his car in their assigned stall. Once parked he looked at her and there was a slight tremble in his lips as he shared with her, “She was killed, and he was about to go after Jack but I was able to put a stop to it before doing so.”

“You saved Jack,” She reminded him of his heroic act as she smoother over his trembling lips with her thumb as she tried to comfort him the same way he did her everytime she nearly spiralled into overthinking negatively, “You didn’t kill Haley, the bad guy did. That’s not your fault, okay?”

Slightly rotating his head so he could press a quick kiss to her palm, he smiled at her, “Thank you for that reminder, sweetheart; I needed that.”

Feeling the heat creeping up her cheeks she smiled too and grinned before gasping out, “Wait, we’re here already, right?” At his confirming hum, she then quickly said, “We need to get to your boy!”

Aaron found himself frowning not because their moment was cut short, but he was unable to open the door for her and escort her out of the vehicle. Upon reaching the elevator of the building, he noticed Y/N was bouncing on her heels as if she were nervous. Just as he was about to check in on her, the elevator had a soft ping and opened the doors to reveal that they were on their floor. Gently placing his hand behind her back, he led her to their apartment and he hated that his sweaty hands slightly dampened her dress; but she didn’t seem to mind it and instead unknowingly calmed him down by smiling brightly at him.

Upon entering their living space, Aaron could vaguely hear Jess keeping Jack occupied by talking to him. “Jack? Buddy? I’m home,” Aaron called out gently as he made his way by the hallway while Y/N settled by their couch as she didn’t want to intrude any more than she already had.

Almost instantly the sound of pitter patter of tiny feet, “Dad!” Jack ran towards his father’s embrace and Aaron opened his arms as he allowed his son to nuzzle into his neck and carry him. “How are you feeling, bud? Aunt Jess said you couldn’t go to sleep?”

He rubbed his eyes with his hands as he frowned, “Yes, had a nightmare, dad. I was so scared I couldn’t get back to sleep with you.” As Jack laid down his head on his father’s shoulder that’s when he noticed a pretty girl sitting. “Who is she, dad?”

Y/N smiled warmly as she waved, Aaron sat him and his son on the armchair near the sofa she was sitting at and mentioned, “This is Y/N, she’s my friend, Jack.”

“Nice to meet you, Jack,” She held out his hand for a shake and while she understood that kids are naturally shy, especially around people they’re unfamiliar with, she was thoroughly surprised when he shook her hand and had a shy smile on his cute little face.

“Hi Y/N, I’m Jack,” When he retracted his hand she took a good look at him before mentioning, “You look like a princess.”

Indulging him she then leaned a little closer and playfully whispered, “Don’t say it out loud, this princess just snuck out to meet with her prince.” Jack giggled at her silly reply and mirrored her actions and came a little closer, “And? Where is he? Did you get your happily ever after?”

“Not yet,” She replied as she shyly smiled and took a quick glance at Aaron, “The story isn’t done yet. But you do know what a princess needs? A knight of shining armour who can be her best friend! Can we be friends, Jack?”

Looking up at his father, he shot Aaron a questioning look and inquired, “I know Y/N’s your friend but can I be her friend too?” Feeling his heart warm up at the way how gentle and considerate Y/N was to Jack — knowing that she couldn’t automatically assume Jack will see her as a friend and instead she’d have to earn it — paired with Jack’s interest in getting to know her, he smiled down at his son as he steadied his grip on his growing toddler who seemed to be wiggling a little at the excitement of having a new friend, “I’m more than alright with that, Jack. But it’s up to you, okay, bud?”

Nodding at his father before facing Y/N once more, Jack showed her his toothy grin that came out every time his father told him a silly joke before concluding, “I’d love to be your knight friend, Y/N. Does that mean we’ll go on adventures?”

Giggling and clapping her hands in delight, Y/N nodded before calming down and saying, “We sure can, Sir Jack! But maybe after you’ve had a good night’s sleep? That way we both will be energised and ready for whatever adventure comes our way?”

Right on cue, Jack let out a little yawn that Aaron partially thought Y/N induced out of him by mentioning he had to sleep, “Okay, I can’t wait for our adventure already!”

“After a good night’s sleep, okay, bud? I’m gonna put you to bed now,” Jack didn’t fight his father much and instead curled his arms around his neck, signalling that he wanted to be carried back to bed. As Aaron stood up, Jack unclasped one of his hands and waved at Y/N and smiled, “Bye, princess Y/N.”

“Sweet dreams, Sir Jack.”

Once the two men disappeared into the hall, Jessica came into view and walked towards her. Taking initiative Y/N reached out for her hand and introduced herself, “Hi, I’m Y/N. Aaron mentioned you were Jack’s aunt.”

Shaking her hand, she confirmed, “Yeah, I’m Jessica. I’m Jack’s mom’s sister. Did he mention Haley to you?”

A sincere, sombre expression washed over her face as Y/N pulled Jess in for a hug, “He did, and I’m so sorry about what happened to her. From what he’s told me, Haley was such a lovely soul.” Noticing that Jess tensed slightly at the hug but relaxed because she didn’t realise how good a hug can be from someone earnest; which is why Jess was puzzled when they pulled away and Y/N had a frown. “I didn’t ask first before hugging you, sorry ‘bout that. My family did always say I was such a big hugger.”

“Don’t worry about it,” The blonde woman reassured her as she reached out and held Y/N’s hand, “I appreciated the hug and your kind words.” Beaming brightly at that, she looked down at their hands and her sharp eye couldn’t miss the blouse Jess was wearing and noticed, “Are you wearing Nanette Lepore?” Taking her aback, Jess then had her mouth open in surprise as she was unsure how to respond to that. Y/N, however, took this opportunity to babble on, “You have a good eye! She really shocked everyone when she revealed that her fall spring collection was mostly going to be perfumes but I was really excited to buy one, but shipping costs are a pain in the butt.”

“I’m sorry but our conversation took quite a turn here,” Jess tried to steer their conversation and Y/N smiled as she explained, “Oh sorry, I get so excited when the topic is fashion and all that. I work at a boutique, always thinking about designing my own clothes, but I don’t know.”

It was then that Aaron walked in the room, “Sorry for the delay, Jack requested quite a few stories tonight.” Placing a hand on his date’s shoulder and facing Jess with a tight-lipped smile, “Jess, I appreciate you looking out for Jack tonight. I was out on a date with Y/N earlier and I hope that it won’t cause too much of an issue between us.”

Jess appreciated Aaron’s vulnerability at the moment as she knew how bad her brother-in-law’s mindset and confidence was following Haley’s passing. He was deep in his belief that he was unable to open up to someone and if he ever did, they’d walk out on him after having a good, long conversation with him. Reaching out to rub his forearm that she couldn't help but notice was colder than usual before smiling, “I know, Aaron. And can I say just how lovely Y/N is.”

“Oh oh, before I forget,” Y/N reached for her bag and fished for something and made her way back over to them and handed a card to Jess, “Next time, please do swing by in the boutique. I’d love to give you some clothes that will really go well with your style! Plus, it’d be fun just chatting up with you and there’s a cute little cafe nearby too.”

Taking the calling card and looking at it first before pocketing it, Jess smiles as she hugs Aaron and gives the same affection to Y/N before parting ways, “I’ll definitely give you a call when I can swing by, okay? Enjoy your evening, guys.”

As she was putting on her coat and slinged her bag over her shoulder she looked at Aaron, “Oh and Aaron?” The man raised his eyebrows and just as he was about to ask what’s wrong Jess winked at her, “I think you found yourself a keeper.”

With that, Jess allowed the two lovebirds their privacy, the two snuggled with each other on the couch but just as they made each other comfortable Y/N looked up at Aaron and had another confused pout, “What did Jess mean when she said you found a keeper? Did you lose a tupperware container?”

Aaron chuckled lightly at her question before placing a gentle kiss on her forehead and shrugged, “I’m not too sure too, sweetheart. I’ll ask her the next time she swings by.”

Deciding to let go of the topic, she then nuzzled her cheek into his chest as her hand mindlessly drew random shapes on his chest; it was Aaron that broke the silence by apologising, “I’m sorry our first date didn’t exactly go as planned. I’ll make it up to you next time, I promise.”

Looking up at him through her lashes she smiled at him and gently shook her head, “It’s okay, Aarbear. I had fun at the food truck festival. If I only knew I was going to be meeting sweet boy Jack, I’d buy him a few cotton candy flavours.”

“I’m sure your sweet personality made up for the lack of treats you gave him, sweetheart,” He tickled her sides gently to elicit giggles from her and when she did he wished he recorded it as it was such a joyous sound, “Besides, he will be looking forward to some princess-knight adventures you two will be having.”

“Is that okay with you though? I’ve read some stories where kids don’t like it when their parents date someone else. I don’t wanna come across as evil or anything,” She worried and now she stopped her movements and just looked at Aaron with worried eyes.

This time it was Aaron who had his hand rubbing her back gently to coax her back into her relaxed state, “Sweetheart, I wouldn’t worry about that. Did you see how at ease Jack was when you were talking to him earlier? I don’t see any scenario where he would treat you unkindly and you to him.”

Nodding her head softly she then leaned against his shoulder once more as she said, “Okay, but if he ever tells me or you that he needs some space from me, I’m gonna do it. And you can’t stop me from doing it.”

Humming as a reply, Aaron appreciated how Y/N was respectful of Jack’s boundaries. They were basking in a comfortable silence before Y/N asked, “Did you really have a great time with me, Aar?”

“Of course,” Came his immediate reply, “Did I give the impression that I didn’t?” He felt calm when she gently shook her head and sighed out before sadly recollecting, “No, you didn’t. But I just went on dates before where it ended up with them just calling it a night right away. They’d mutter under their breath that they can’t handle being around me for any longer.”

Her quiet sniffles had him fearing that she thought this was how their relationship too was gonna go; choosing to reassure her, he lifted her chin with his hooked finger and looked serious yet loving as he spoke, “I’m sorry to hear you’ve been on terrible dates with terrible boys. But let me reassure you that I do not, in any way, think of you in that way. Can I tell you a secret?”

Looking at him with curious eyes she nodded as he took his queue to reveal to her, “You bring so much happiness and joy in my life. I don’t think you can ever be those mean things that they said. In fact, I think you’re all I could ever need and want.”

Having to bite back her smile as she tried to not show how his words affected her she smiled and leaned in to press a kiss on his cheek, “You’re too sweet to me, Aaron.” She bit her lip before continuing her train of thought, “Would it be too soon to say that I like you a lot? Like, I know it’s only been nearly two weeks since we’ve talked to each other but you make me so happy. Whenever I get a text from you I smile so wide, it even got to the point where Phoebe has to tell me to stop smiling and giggling too much because it might creep out other customers.”

Laughing along her story as she did so, he shook his head as he shared, “I feel what you mean, sweetheart. I have to be careful of my reactions everytime my phone rings because of you. Which is hard to do around profilers.”

“Wait, profilers? Is that the ones who try to understand the bad guys or the ones who just do the research on how to find the bad guy?”

Chuckling as he found her confusion unfortunately adorable he clarified, “We do a little bit of both, sweetheart.” She gasps out loud as she frowns, “You do both? That sounds exhausting!”

“Well thinking of you does make me feel less tired, sweetheart,” Rubbing her cheek softly as he took in her features led him to focus on her lips that he had thought about kissing ever since they met, “Would it be too soon if I told you I wanted to kiss you, sweetheart?”

“Not at all,” Came her instantaneous reply, “I’d love for you to kiss me, Aar.”

And with her consent he gently pulled her in softly by the cheek, tightening his hold on her without hurting her and slanted his lips overs. Feeling her smile into the kiss as she held onto his shoulders, bringing him even closer to her. Their lips felt warm and like puzzles fitting into place, after both of their initial shyness they both opened their mouths and allowed their tongues to entangle in a sweet dance as their hands took in every part of themselves that were new to each other.

The couple poured all of the unspoken feelings they both were too frightened to share — all the premature love and companionship — was made evident by their sweet kiss that felt natural. Despite her unwillingness to do so, she had to slowly detach herself from his lips as she had to gasp for breath. Her fingers ended up playing with the short hairs at the nape of his neck and while she separated from his lips, she couldn’t pull away from his hair as she looked up at him, “That might be the best first kiss I’ve ever had with someone.”

Pleased with her conclusion, Aaron quickly littered sweet pecks all throughout her face before placing a long, loving kiss on her lips before nodding in agreement, “And the best part about it is that that’ll be just the first of our many kisses, sweetheart.”

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