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#hotch fanfiction
slutforsilverfoxes · 8 months
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Y’all ate this Hotch x BAU!reader imagine up 👀 Who am I to deny you more when asked so nicely? 🖤
Things remain strictly professional while the case is ongoing, your team and the Seattle division’s sole focus on catching the unsub. But once your resident bad guy gets his one way ticket to a life sentence, Aaron’s former colleague insists on celebrating over drinks…
“I can’t believe you completed the triathlon!” Agent Brandt exclaims with a laugh, her hand coming to rest on Aaron’s arm. From her spot in the booth opposite to you, JJ nudges your leg under the table. Your gaze cuts to hers, and you resist the urge to mime gagging yourself on your straw. Instead, you use it to suck up the last of your second mojito. There are a few appreciative titters around the table and Brandt soldiers on, “Who would’ve thought our nerdy prosecutor turned agent would do something so athletic?”
“Make no mistake, the nerd is still hiding underneath these muscles,” you chime in with a coy smile, the mix of jealousy and rum swimming in your veins giving you the push to overtly squeeze your husband’s bicep for good measure.
Aaron pointedly clears his throat and directs a frown towards Emily whose cellphone camera has made an appearance just over the lip of the table to no doubt document the scene unfolding for Penelope’s benefit. “All the credit goes to my partner here,” he says rather smoothly before draping his arm across your shoulders.
“Oh wow,” Brandt says through a tight-lipped smile, “you did it, too?”
“Sure did,” you respond cheerily while using your straw to swirl the mint leaves around the bottom of your empty glass. Aaron can hear the mischief building in your tone and he pinches your side half-heartedly in warning, but you quietly smack his hand away and continue, “Gotta stay in shape to fight off all the soccer moms vying for this guy’s attention at Jack’s games.” You allow yourself to relish in the flash of recognition in Brandt’s eyes before she slowly retracts her hand from your husband’s arm.
“Goodness,” she laughs and has the grace to blush at her earlier conduct. You feel a twinge of guilt until Aaron’s former colleague looks at him and says, “I didn’t realize you had a girlfriend.”
Derek covers up his laugh with a cough, and Emily mouths a delighted uh oh. Aaron turns to you with a silent plea in his eyes to let the comment go, but your lips are already twisting into a, “Me neither, babe.”
“She’s just teasing,” your husband is quick to soothe all parties’ ruffled feathers as his colleague’s blush grows a shade darker and she studiously avoids making eye contact with you. “We’ve been married for a few years now.”
“And what a wonderful few years it’s been seeing the two of you grow together,” the eldest member of your team adds with a sense of finality. You flash a grateful smile at Dave, and the conversation takes on a more lighthearted tone over the next and final round of drinks.
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On the jet back home the next day…
Your novel tumbling out of your hands and onto the floor of the jet has you jolting awake, and Aaron shoots upright in his seat across from you. A quick glance around reveals the rest of the team suspiciously engrossed in their respective activities- Derek’s listening to his post-case playlist, Spencer’s reading yet another book that’s above your pay grade, Emily and Dave are sharing sections of the New York Times, and JJ’s on her phone, likely texting Will- but the fact that no one so much as bats an eye at the startling noise tells you everything you need to know. It doesn’t take a profiler to understand why you and your husband just can’t seem to stay awake on the early morning flight.
In answer to their unspoken question, you offer, “Didn’t sleep well last night,” by way of an explanation, fighting the blush threatening to creep across your guilty cheeks.
With a click of his teeth, Derek laughs out, “My man,” and Emily pipes up, “We’ll chalk it up to a hangover.”
“Behave, all of you,” Aaron counsels in an utterly non-threatening monotone, his voice still thick with sleep. He doesn’t even bother to open his eyes to scold them, just crosses his hands over his chest and settles back in his seat to get some much needed rest. The corner of his mouth ticks upward for the briefest of moments before his features fall back into their emotionless state.
You tap his ankle with your foot and one eye cracks open to find you smirking at him. “I saw that.”
“Get some sleep, Agent Y/L/N,” he orders in lieu of addressing being caught.
Tugging Aaron’s suit jacket higher up on your body, you dutifully close your eyes and hunker down under your makeshift blanket. Already drifting back off to sleep, you murmur, “That’s Agent Hotchner to you, mister.”
Aaron’s answering smile could rival the sun itself.
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[A/N: Idk if I like this 🙃 But then again, I go through these mental gymnastics every time I post my writing on here]
AH tags 🖤 @gothwifehotchner
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thewulf · 3 months
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Did You Just...? || Aaron Hotchner
Summary: Request - What about a young!Hotch x reader and they’re best friends crushing on each other?? Idk if you remember that TikTok trend where you call your crush or film a video and kiss your best friend and they don’t know what’s going on?... Read Rest Here
A/N: PURE FLUFFFFF. Loved this. Hope you guys enjoy :) This is a Young Hotch set in present day :)
Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Y/N
Word Count: 3.0k
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“Okay but you’ve been on the app right?” You asked Aaron after sitting down at his desk filled to the brim with paperwork that needed to be completed but never had the time to do. He peaked his eyes over to you once you sat down with a huff.
Amusement danced in his gaze as a small smiled played on his lips at your overt casualness with him. It was remarkable to witness you go from the scared and timid profiler hired right out of school to chatting his ear off at lunch every day in a matter of mere months. See, he was in his third year at the BAU and thought he had figured it out. That was until you came along and rocked his world.
He used to come to work, get some paperwork done, put his head down and go home after a long day. It worked for him. He was ‘friends’ with his coworkers as best as he could be, but he was the young pup of the group. Then you were onboarded. Gideon hired you the second you graduated after blowing him away in one of the classes he taught at Georgetown. You came in like a hurricane that he wasn’t quite ready for but knew the team needed.
You were so different than Aaron’s other coworkers. You actually talked to him and got to know him. You weren’t afraid of his intimidating gaze but instead found it a fun challenge to try and get him to break his facade. It annoyed him at first. He went to work to work, not socialize. But leave it to you to sway his opinion on the matter. Aaron didn’t want to admit just how much he had grown to love and adore your smiling face greeting him every morning. He really didn’t want to admit how much he looked forward to your early morning coffee chats or daily debriefs when Gideon was being a hard ass. You were the sunshine of the group. The one that brought the optimism while the rest of the team turned terribly pessimistic.
He'll never forget the first time you caught a killer. He almost had a heart attack when you quite literally jumped on top of the man, surprising him and taking him to the floor without a second thought. You smiled right up to him after he was in cuffs and whispered a, “One down. A hundred more to go.” To him. He knew right then and there that you’d be in his life for a long time.
“What app?” He set the pen he was writing with down as he turned his attention to you.
Sighing you opened your phone showing him, “Don’t play dumb with me Hotchner.” Your eyes glowered at the man with a subtle smirk resting right on his face, “Tik-Tok.”
He leaned back watching the videos you’d saved. He assumed they were ones you thought would convince him to download it. He was right of course. You’d saved the funniest ones in hopes he’d download the damn app. You’ve been trying for weeks to get him to do it. But then again, it almost took you three entire months to convince the man he needed to upgrade from his prehistoric iPhone 5.
“You know that’s likely spyware and the government…”
You cut him off with another long-drawn-out sigh, “Okay dad. But it’d not banned. So, download it.”
Aaron could mess with you, and he knew it. And enjoyed it. He didn’t dare want to admit just how happy he got when he got you to blush under his gaze. You’d quite literally waltzed in and rocked his absolute world. He knew he couldn’t catch feelings for you and yet here he was. On the brink of falling in love with the funnier than ever coworker who knew him better than he knew himself. How cliché.
He leaned back in his office chair crossing his arms over his chest, “You know. I don’t think I will.” He watched your face closely. You were far too easy to read. Something he was working on with you. You gave away everything on your face. His smirk only grew when you raised your eyebrows in slight surprise. It wasn’t often he didn’t bend over backwards to make you happy. He would of course download the stupid little app to make you happy. Just like he got the latest iPhone once you saw the horrifying state of his almost 10-year-old phone.
You leaned back in the same manner he had, “No need to be so obstinate Hotch.” Giving him a playful push, you couldn’t help but to giggle at his amused grin. It was easy to forget the two of you were at work of all places. It was just so easy to forget with him. He made you want more with him, so much more. A much easier case to crack than you originally thought. He was an utter softy under the rigid exterior put on for the team.
He knew he should get back to work but he just couldn’t shoo you away. He looked forward to moments like these. Little moments where he got to steal some of your time and attention, “Look at you. Using your big words.” His smirk deepened as he watched you register his words in real time. He was playing around with you. He’d gotten so comfortable with you he was beginning to mess with you right back. You’d grown used to teasing him and only getting an eyeroll or snicker in return. You weren’t used to this. And you had to admit you loved it. A subtle change you’d grown to adore.
“Didn’t go to school for nothing.” You winked at him knowing the double negative would set him off.
He shook his head, “You’re something else, you know that?”
Wiggling your eyebrows at him you nodded your head, “You wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Relenting, he fished his phone out of his pocket. He opened it up knowing damn well he didn’t download the app but he’d sure as hell let you do it. He’d truly do anything for you, “You’re right.”
Ignoring the flush that rose to your cheeks you grabbed the opened phone from his hands. You knew you shouldn’t be having these thoughts for your dangerously attractive slightly older and much more put together coworker. But damn. You had all the thoughts and feelings.
You sighed, “Just as I suspected.” Shaking your head in disapproval you handed the phone back to him, “Now, I need you to make an account to night. Let me know when you do! I have so many to share with you.” You grinned knowing he was going to give in one way or another.
He took it back, “That’s a lot of work.” He spoke with a grin that meant he was just teasing you. Two could play that game.
“Yeah, because you’re so anti-technology. But I promise you can do this. Who else am I supposed to send TikTok’s too?” You widened your eyes as if it was the most obvious thing ever.
“You’re other friends?”
You shrugged, “I do send them. But these are for you.”
Aaron couldn’t help but to smile at your ever so quick comebacks. One of the many reasons he had fallen for you so quickly, “I’ll do it. But…” He paused letting it linger in the air for a moment.
“But what Hotchner?” You raised your eyebrows, ever so curious as to what his stipulation could be.
His smile widened seeing your impatience for him grow, “Only if you come over and show me how.” He’d never really been so bold before. Sure, you’d been over to his place a few times in passing, once for a team dinner. Gideon’s genius idea to have somebody from the team host once a month. You’d rather come to enjoy the gatherings. Especially when they were at Rossi’s place. The wine and food pairings never ceased to amaze you. You on the other hand always insisted on taking the team out when your month rolled around. It was a little too embarrassing to have the entire team over at your rather small one-bedroom apartment.
“Propositioning me now Hotch?” You challenged back to the man you were head over heels with knowing it’d throw him off his game. The smile that immediately dropped let you know you did exactly that.
This time it was his mouth that dropped as his cheeks turned an adorable violet. Oh, you got him this time. You wished you could take a picture. He was just too cute when he thought too hard. If you were at home you would’ve risked a picture, but you didn’t want to cross the line at work. You’d never dream of putting him in an awkward position here. The both of you worked way too hard to blow it up now.
“You know I would never ever…” He started rambling. It would’ve been adorable had he not been actually freaking out a little bit. Of course, you knew that. You really were just messing with him.
Shaking your head, you stopped him, “I’m teasing you Aaron. I’d love to come over and show you how to make a TikTok account.”
He let out a strangled sigh of relief, “You’re killing me.” He loved it when you called him by his first name. It sounded too good coming out of your mouth.
Biting back a smile you stood from the chair, “I’ll be over at 6?”
You watched as he leaned forward grabbing his pen once more. Turning to you with that smile you’d grown to adore he nodded, “Don’t be late.”
“I wouldn’t dare Hotchner.” Shooting him one last wink you walked away briskly letting your heart get far, far away from the man who was causing it to beat right out of your chest.
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“You’re making this so much harder than it needs to be Hotchner.” You giggled itching to take the phone away from Aaron.
He shrugged giving you a wicked grin, “We’re not all technologically savvy Y/L/N.” He chided back knowing he might’ve been taking his time so that you didn’t have an excuse to leave. He took his time making dinner, not starting until you made it over. Taking his time cleaning up and getting dessert out. Pretending not to know how his phone worked. He wanted to steal your time away. Not that you minded, not in the slightest.
Rolling your eyes, you finished setting it up for him, “You could say that again.”
A small chuckle rolled off his lips. He put his phone back down before turning his head back to you. You were watching him with all the love in your eyes. You’d tried so hard to hide it, but it was becoming an impossible task. He was so easy to fall in love with. How were you to blame?
Feeling bold you decided to move forward with your plan. Picking up your phone you clicked the video player to record and angled it towards you and Aaron.
With scrunched brows he observed you, “What are you doing?”
“Since you’ve never opened the app you’ll never get it. But we’re doing a video. I’ll post it. It’d trending right now.” You said as nonchalantly as possible trying not to let your voice waver. You had to be confident
Curiously we watched as you scooted closer to him, “Trending?” He asked with a hint of amusement lacing his voice.
You nodded not daring to meet his curious gaze, you’d surely lose the confidence to actually do it, “Mhmm,” You hummed, “If you’ll let me that is.”
He grinned, “Be my guest.”
It felt like your heart was about to leap out of its chest. Now or never, really, “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
He smirked seeing you finally look him in the eyes, “Do your worst then.”
It was really now or never. You grabbed either side of his face and decided to go for it.
His eyes widened in pleasant shock as you pressed your lips to his. He could’ve sworn his heart stopped then and there. That was bold, even for you. But then again you always had him on his toes. Another one of the many reasons he knew that made him fall for you. It took him a second to long to respond to this kiss. But once he did he wasn’t going to let you go.
Once you needed air though you did have to pull away. Adrenaline was now coursing through you as you realized you really just kissed not only your friend but your coworker as well. There was truly no going back now.
“Did you just…?” His mouth bobbed open and closed like he couldn’t believe what you just did.
You watched as his face went from shock to realization to… satisfaction? A fast and hot blush erupted on your cheeks as you realized he was watching you too, waiting on an answer to his very own question.
“I did.” Biting your lip, a wave of anxiety washed over you as you waited his answer.
You didn’t get one as he leaned in this time. You felt as his hand wrapped around the back of your neck and up through your hair. Carefully he pulled your head towards him as he kissed you with a little more dominance this time. He was in charge. He wanted to kiss you. You didn’t fight the way your body melted right into his. Feeling him smile as you folded into his touches like putty, you didn’t dare break away. You’d dreamed of this moment for far too long. Almost six months too long now.
He pulled away gently, leaning his forehead on yours, “Thank God you did.”
Your heart was hammering so hard in your chest you only could hope he couldn’t hear it being so close, “Yeah?” You asked, a hint of insecurity in your voice.
He moved away from you only so he could look you in the eyes. His hands landed on your shoulders giving them a gentle squeeze, “I’ve wanted to do that for a while now.” His usually unreadable face broke into a light blush, one you probably wouldn’t be able to see if you weren’t so close to him.
“Why didn’t you?” The smile on your face let him know it was all in good fun. You just loved teasing him. And he loved teasing you right on back.
He shook his head with the saddest smile, “Would it be too cowardly to say that I didn’t want to mess it all up? I didn’t want to make a mess of it if you didn’t feel the same.” For the first time you’d seen a side of him you’d really never have seen before. He wasn’t sure. He didn’t have an answer. He looked to you for the next step.
A quick shake of your head brought you back to the present, “I’d never think of you as a coward Aaron.” You reached for his hands that landed back down at his side, “And I’m certainly glad I didn’t make a mess of it.” You giggled feeling relieved that he clearly felt the same way. You didn’t think he’d kiss you like that if he didn’t.
“Go out with me tomorrow? On an actual date? Where I can actually woo you. You weren’t supposed to do that by the way.” He pinched your side lightly loving the way you squirmed under his touch, “But then again. You always seem to take me by surprise.” He clarified leaning back in wanting so desperately to kiss you once more but needing to hear your answer first.
“Do I now?” If your heart could speed up it certainly did as he leaned closer and closer once more.
“All the time.” He placed a gentle hand on your cheek, his thumb gingerly brushing on the apple of your cheek. A shiver you tried to stop erupted from your body at the lightest of contact with him. You were a goner, and you knew it.
“Good to know.” You grinned before leaning in and giving his nose a quick kiss, catching him off guard yet again, “And yes, I’d love to go out with you.” You continued after sending his brain into a tizzy. You truly would be the death of him.
He didn’t waste a second more before bringing you in for a much slower kiss this time. He too was in utter disbelief this was going on. Sure, he’d daydreamed about it on far too many occasions, but it was actually happening. He was kissing you.
When he pulled back for air he gave you a once over again, “I haven’t told you how pretty you look tonight.” He knew that’d draw that pretty blush he loved so much.
You pushed at his chest lightly giving him a soft laugh. You turned your head spotting the phone you’d set up to record about five minutes ago.
“Oh crap.” You pulled yourself off of him to grab at the phone quickly ending the video. A soft smile graced your face as you thought about watching that later.
He grinned, “Are you going to post that?”
Shaking your head quickly you saved the video before closing out of the app, “No, I don’t think I will.” Looking back up with all the love in your eyes you scooted closer to him, nearly on top of him now, “Think I’ll keep it just for you and I.”
He pulled you onto his lap, getting the hint, “You’re a sap.” Brushing your now messy hair, thanks to Aaron, out of your face he leaned down to give you a gentle kiss on your forehead, “A cute sap at that.”
You grinned while cuddling into him rather thankful your uncalculated risk paid off in an incredible way, “Only for you Aaron.”
He wrapped his arms all the way around pulling you in close, “Wouldn’t have it any other way.”
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Aaron Hotchner/Criminal Minds: Permanent Taglist (Message me or comment below if you want to be added!): @loving-and-dreaming @kmc1989 @memeorydotcom @matisse556 @buckylov3r @taygrls @ah-blossom @daily-evanstan @hardballoonlove @14buddy22 @rosiahills22 @djs8891 @mrs-ssa-hotch @panandinpain0 @viscade
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mickisnotclever · 12 days
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Why am I so protective over how Hotch is presented in fics?
Whenever I read one where he's written to be such an asshole I'm like "What? :( ...No. That's... That's not right."
Sure, he can be a bit of a dick at times but he's never just an asshole for the sake of it! Tell me why I get so protective as if this man is real 💀
But he would never straight up yell at Reid or Garcia for talking about things they like. He'd never tell them to "shut the hell up" or tell Morgan he's an embarrassment to the Bureau after flirting with a lady a little
Like what? That's not the same Hotch anymore, mate. He simply would not do this.
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femscottlang · 1 year
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S & M
Part Two
Aaron Hotchner X Fem! Reader
Summary: The new BAU agent has been very reserved. You rejected the offer to go out with the team on a friday, already promising your friends you’d go out with them. Turns out you all ended up in the same club and Hotch sees a completely different side of you
Warnings: 18+, suggestive language, drinking
Word Count: 1.8k
A/N: This is completely inspired by the song S&M by Rhianna and fleabag, I hope u enjoy the reference
my suggestions are open !
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Sitting at your desk, finishing up the last bit of the paperwork that you had to get done today, Emily approached you and leaned against the side of your desk. “Hey, the whole team is going out tonight, you in?” she asked, giving a kind smile. The team hasn’t pushed you to open up yet, giving you time to understand the different dynamics and where you fit in. You enjoy the team's company, but getting drunk around them before you're able to have a non-work related conversation with them that isn’t small talk sounds like your worst nightmare.
Especially being drunk around your very stoic, extremely attractive boss. You gave her an apologetic smile “I promise my girlfriends I’d go out with them tonight, but next time it's a yes” you said
She nodded and pushed herself back onto her feet “Im holding you to that, newbie” she said, giving you a wink before walking over to morgan shaking her head to tell him that you said no. you let out a sigh and stretched your arms above your head, shutting off your computer and packing up your briefcase. You waved goodbye “have fun guys!” you said before making your way to your apartment
You traded your conservative turtleneck, slacks, and courthouse heels for a tight backless mini dress and black stiletto pumps. You took out the low bun and shook your head before looking in the mirror and deciding it looked fine after running a brush through it. You looked in the mirror with a smile on your face.
This was the first time you got to go out and destress since joining the team 6 months ago and it was desperately needed, but you couldn’t stop thinking about what hotch would be like drunk. Relaxed? never. You thought about the rare moments that he smiles and lets his dry humor shine.
Now you kinda wish you went so you could see what he would do. Maybe he’d wear that quarter-zip he wore in Alaska. Maybe a tight polo, or even better, a tight button-up without a tie, sleeves rolled up to show his arms. You bit your lip to hold back a smile and shook the thought out of your head, slapping your cheeks as you heard your friends knock on your door.
After pregaming at your place, you and two of your friends took an uber to a club you had never heard of before, but the girls hyped it up so you gave in and agreed to go. “I'm so glad we got you to go out. We thought we would never see you again” one of them said, dramatically leaning against you in the cramped backseat.
You scoffed and pushed her back up giggling “I work at the FBI, your office is like ten minutes from HQ,” you said “still” she pouted before you put a hand over her face “This is the first time I’ve even been home on a Friday night and haven't been completely exhausted! So stop complaining and let's have fun,” you said 
The three of you walked in, immediately heading to the bar and ordering a round of shots after deciding that you needed a little bit more liquid courage before hitting the dance floor. Scrunching your face and letting out a huff, you relaxed and let the heat spread from the apples of your cheeks to the tips of your ears and down the rest of your body.
You closed your eyes, trying not to cringe at the taste as you were grabbed and dragged out to the crowded dance floor as S & M by Rhianna came on over the speakers. 
You grinned, swaying along to the music and running your hands over your body, glaring at the guys who dared to try and approach you. You lost interest in one-night stands a while ago, knowing you just get too attached too quickly.
“I might be bad, but I'm perfectly good at it, sex in the air I don't care I love the smell of it” you and your girls sang to each other, grinning. One of them spun you around as she did you made eye contact with the last person you expected to see, Aaron Hotchner.
“sticks and stones may break my bones but chains and whips excite me” Once you were able to drag your eyes away from his you saw the whole team looking at you with amused smiles. Your eyes went wide like a deer in headlights, your stomach dropping “oh no.” you turned back around immediately, suddenly feeling sober
“Okay don't look at the same time but my entire team is here. Like. everyone.” you said as their heads both snapped to your team, “I said not at the same time!” you hissed, putting your hands on your face “This is my literal worst nightmare. We gotta go to a different club, they cannot see me drunk,” you said, pacing in your small space of the dance floor
“is that the boss that you were talking about? I understand why you have a crush on him” you looked at her with wide-eyed “shush! I told you that in confidence!” 
“Whos the one with the long hair and the sweater vest? Can you introduce me?” the other said. That pulled a laugh out of you
“Dr. Spencer Reid. and absolutely not keep your paws off my colleagues, you minx” you joked before looking at them again, seeing them smile at you and whisper to each other.
“Stay here, I'm gonna close our tab,” you said, walking back towards the bar. The worst part was that Hotch was wearing a tighter button-down with no tie, switching his usual white one for black. No one should look that good. It's unfair to the other guys at the club.
Aaron wasn’t keen on the idea of being in a club, claiming he was too old for it, but Jessica had Jack for the weekend and he didn't want to go back to an empty apartment right away. He sipped on his second neat bourbon of the night, knowing that the rest of the team would be drinking more and he’d have to make sure none of them did anything too stupid.
“Oh my god.” He heard Penelope screech “Look! Newbie!” she said, pointing at you on the floor. Hotch followed her finger and watched you move to the music completely relaxed and smiling, a complete 180 of your usual professional rigidness and tightlipped smile. His lips parted as he watched you, not looking away once you met his eye. His ears burned as you sang along to the suggestive lyrics. He coughed and looked away, finishing off his drink and getting up to get another silently. 
You stood at the bar, waiting for the bartender to finish making his drinks as you reached in your bra for your card, tapping it against the counter to the beat of the music. You looked back at your friends to make sure nothing happened to them and they looked at you with shit-eating grins, pointing behind you.
You gave them a confused look before you looked to your right, seeing Hotch inches away from you. He waved over the bartender and you prayed that he didn’t see you standing there. “I'll get another bourbon neat and” he looked at you “what would you like?” he gave a small smile.
A rare sight that sent shivers down your spine as you pulled down the short hem of your dress to try to appear a little more modest.
 “Oh no worries, Sir, I-I was just going to close my tab.” you explained, reaching over to hand your card to the bartender, he grabbed your wrist and put on back against your chest “you don't have to leave because we’re here. You deserve to relax with your friends.” You looked down at his large hand wrapped around your wrist and trailed your eyes from his hand to his rolled up sleeves displaying his veiny arms and across his chest, the shirt emphasizing his physique with the first few buttons left undone. Your breathing sped up as you finally made eye contact with him again. 
Give it to me strong, meet me in my boudoir make my body say-
“Alright, uh I'll just take a whiskey ginger,” you said, finally breaking eye contact, he nodded at the bartender, who just set down hotch’s bourbon. He released your wrist  “and a whiskey ginger for the lady” he gave him a curt smile and picked up his drink.
"you look nice with your hair down, you should wear it that way more often.” he said, his eyes looking over your figure in a way that you'd never seen him do before as he brought his drink to his lips. You reached up and touched your hair, looking down at it “Thank you, sir” you said, twirling a strand around her finger in a nervous manner 
He scoffed and shook his head “oh fuck you calling me Sir like it doesn't turn you on just to say it.” he chuckled. You let your mouth fall open, the corners of your mouth turning up as you looked at the team and then your friends to see if they are watching what was happening. The only person seemed to be Rossi, who gave you a thumbs up which only added to your confusion.
"Sir, how much have you had tonight?” you asked, nodding a thank you to the bartender as you picked up your drink. You held the straw and took a sip, not breaking eye contact with him. 
He looked away, sucking in his bottom lip to stifle a smile “I see the way you look at me. Cmon. we’re all profilers” you studied his face for a second to see if there was even an ounce of anger.
There wasn’t.
“I thought we didn’t profile each other.” you said, smirking at him. He leaned against the counter, his forearms holding him up “We always profile the Newbies a little bit. You’re lucky no one else has caught on. You’re not exactly subtle.” he said, looking up at the ceiling.
You leaned in closer “And? Go ahead. Profile me. Tell me how I look at you.” you taunted.
He looked back at you, his eyelids hooded. “It's not how you look at me. It's what you look at. I see you looking at my arms. Especially when I am not wearing a blazer. I would have assumed you just didn’t to make eye contact because of my position of authority but you have no problem looking Rossi in the eye. Then I thought maybe you just like strong arms, but you rarely look at Morgan’s, whose arms are bigger than mine.” he said, leaning in closer, his face inches from yours.
“Everyone else calls me Hotch but you only call me sir.” you ran your tongue over your teeth and titled your head, feigning innocence “So?” you said, tilting your head.
“Doll, you’re smart enough to piece it together,” he said, not daring to move any closer. 
“What are you gonna do about it, sir ?”
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criminalskies · 3 months
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Not Alone. Aaron Hotchner x GN!reader
Hi all! so, this is actually a birthday gift to a beautiful friend and mutual who has been struggling recently. I heard him say that Aaron would not be proud of him at this very point in time, and well. I just couldn’t disagree more. So! That sparked this. I hope all of you reading can hear the message I originally intended to shine through the words. <3 And Happy Birthday, Casper!!!!! @softhairedhotch
word count: 3,400.
THIS IS HEAAAAAAVY ON THE HURT AND HEAVY ON THE COMFORT SO PLEASE HEED THE WARNINGS!
This fic contains: graphic depictions of depression/depressing imagery. Brief mentions of alcoholism/alcohol as a coping mechanism. Some allusions to suicidal thoughts and loneliness/bullying. Mentions of reader shaving and accidental cuts (no mentions of where on their body). Mentions of caffeine consumption.* *not tagging due to the heavy themes in this particular fic, I don't want to pressure anyone into reading if they aren't completely comfortable*
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Numb. The only way to describe the way you’ve been feeling, or rather, unfeeling lately. What you know to have been weeks, feels like months, could have been years stretching on and on feeling this way. You have, of course had moments of joy and happiness, seemingly outnumbered by those where you’ve felt a kind of misery seeping in through the windows at night, staining your carpet with its seething despair. You’ve been trying and trying and trying to avoid it, standing on the furniture as it rises and rises. Now you must be clinging to your raised curtain like a cat, trying still to escape the dreary fog. 
Of course, you wake up every morning, noticing there is no stain at all. The sunny daylight bleaches every fiber in sight and washes away all your signs of last night’s struggle. You turn off your blaring alarm, wipe a restless sleep from your eyes and have to get on with your day. Every. Damn. Day. You throw on your uniform and you begin the endless trudge to Quantico. You can’t help but look around on your long commute, wondering if every other train passenger feels the same way you do. You see the same faces appearing time and time again, expressionless on their way to their same mind numbing 9 to 5. But surely, not everybody feels this weighed down. Not everybody feels like their boots are packed with lead and every step is in the wrong direction. They can’t all have been pushed to their last limit, violating every rule they set for themselves because they just can’t deny themselves a moment’s pleasure. A moment’s reprieve in a world that is otherwise frankly draining. 
Looking around, you note the absence of a particular man you’ve labelled Hat Guy. Until two days ago, you saw this man every morning on the same commute. He’ll often share a row with Newspaper Dude and sit in their comfortable silence. They never greet each other, though. In fact, you wonder if any of these people find the same brimming sense of familiarity and calm that you feel seeing the same faces each day. Actually, do any of them even know you? Would they notice if you stopped riding this train? If you were here every day for the past who knows how many months and then you weren’t?
Luckily, that crisis is cut off by the shrill sound of the doors grating open, you’re finally at your stop. You pick up your daily energy drink from the corner store before beginning your short hike to Quantico’s FBI Headquarters. Greeting the guards at the security checkpoint, you’re predictably asked to remove your bag and belt, putting your drink aside while you make your way through the scanners. The metal alarm sounds as you rush to explain to the guards you have a plate in your arm from an injury as a child. The guards seem equally surprised by this every day. Every day the same. You’re starting to wonder if you’re actually living the plot of groundhog day as the younger, more by-the-books guard picks up the metal detector wand, waving it over your body ‘Just to be sure’. You narrowly avoid telling him, like every single morning. that you’re quite literally one of a few people entering this building without a gun on your hip. There are about a thousand armed agents he should be more concerned with than you. 
You take the elevator up to the sixth floor, barely needing to glance ahead of you to know the path towards the BAU doors like the back of your hand. You push through the doors, the ever predictable Dr Reid being the first to turn and notice your figure trudging past his desk. 
“Morning.” He offers you a tight lipped smile as you note that he’s never even greeted you by name. If he didn’t have an eidetic memory you’d be convinced he didn’t know it. 
“Morning, Reid.” You offer him a similarly forced little smile as you trudge by the other familiar faces of your coworkers, all too absorbed in their work or in quite literally anything more interesting than you, you suppose. You set down your things with a sigh, shedding your jacket over the chair and looking over to see your three fellow evidence technicians deep in conversation, all sat around your ex-partner’s desk, laughing about how much they enjoyed going out for karaoke with the team’s field agents last night. None of them seem to notice your presence as you wake your computer and start rummaging through your desk drawers for your notepad, yesterday’s nearly finished evidence logs, pens and a calculator. 
One of your peers laughs so hard at a joke the infamous Derek Morgan made that she tips backwards, her hand flying out to catch her as it collides with the cold metal of your energy drink, spilling it all over your desk. The fizzy liquid quickly soaks into the loose pages of your entire week’s work as you just watch the can gulp more and more sticky drink over your things. You raise your hands to your head, taking a moment to breathe and tell yourself that you can redo the work. It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter. Things can be replaced. It’s just useless. Seriously, what’s the point of trying anyway if everything is just ruined in the end? This is always the way it goes. You feel before you see the now empty can picked up and placed gently into the wastebasket by your desk, a long set of legs planting two shiny soles beside your chair as a throat clears, loudly beside you. 
The room comes to a grinding halt, your coworkers piling off the desks around yours, clambering to their feet to face their very unimpressed boss. 
“Agent Summers.” You hear a cold but familiar tone directed at the particular ass which collided with your morning caffeine. 
“Yes? Um, sir.” She stutters, clearly surprised to be greeted at 9:02 sharp with such a directed reprimand.
“Clean this mess up, please. This is furniture, not a playground. We don’t go swinging beverages over important documents. Although, I expect since you and your colleagues were meeting in your paid hours, you guys can come up with some plan to make up for this lost work? I trust you can make out which documents you just carelessly ruined on your own?”  
“U-Um, yes, sir. I’m sure we can, We can fix these-” She began peeling the dripping messes of paper off the desk as Agent Hotchner carefully wheeled your chair back just out of the splash zone. 
“Good. And don’t let this happen again.” He gave one last icy stare to the group of fools you once called friends as he carefully moved a hand to your shoulder. He bent down closer to you as his tone turned to one of delicate care. “Come with me.” He offered you a very neutral, soft expression as you pulled yourself to your feet, willing to just move one in front of the other, like always, and stay calm. Whatever he’s about to hit you with, you probably deserve it. 
It’s worth noting that you and Agent Hotchner had been in a sort of dance for months now, both of you had clearly been harbouring feelings for one another but each time one of you took a small step forwards, the other was nearly sent flying back. It was torture. His unwillingness to just be seen as even a little bit unprofessional even once in his life made it impossible to read him as anything other than neutral, if not even a little off-put by your continued presence in his life. Your building anxiety over his indeterminable feelings for you eventually led to the mounds of dead weight you’re now forced to carry with you day to day. The notion you weren’t enough for him to risk his reputation for and the nagging feeling that he only ever did what was right or polite of him to do towards you, and no feelings ever really existed for you continues to burn your throat where your loving words had once died trying to work their way to him. In any case, you’ve been actively avoiding him ever since your strong feelings of regret towards him began following you around like a bad smell. 
You follow him up the stairs to his office where his blinds are already drawn, his hand resting on the door as he allows you in before shutting it behind you. You walk towards the chairs opposite his desk, ready to be fired honestly for someone finally noticing your sluggish and lazy work ethic these past few months, only to be stopped in your tracks. 
“Not there. Over here, please.” You turn and see Aaron gesturing to the small couch by the window. You take a seat, pointedly staring at your now stained work pants as you feel Hotch lower himself onto the couch next to you. You sit for a moment, hand fiddling with the seam of your pants at your side while you await your doomed fate. 
“Y/N. Please, try to look at me when I say this.” Your head turns towards the more seasoned agent, but your eyes stay glued on your reflection in his overpolished shoes. “I’m worried about you.” You’re caught off guard by this, fully expecting the reprimand of the century for your lackluster job performance. You turn to him fully now, a frown pulling at your features as you try to think of what to say next. 
“You mean… like, worried about my job performance, or?” He doesn’t care. Mister professional, mister perfectly fine can only care about one thing and it’s this unit. 
“No. I mean you. Come on, Y/N. You think a seasoned FBI Profiler can’t notice when somebody is clearly struggling?” You resent that he had to say clearly, as if all of your efforts to hide your anguish and your pain have been for nothing, if it’s as clear as day anyway. “I don’t say this just to hurt you. I want to help you. I’ve seen you shrugging off every person who tries getting close to you recently, and I don’t want to let that happen here. I can’t let you push me away.” The gentle tone of Aaron’s voice drifting through the narrow space between the two of you almost moved you to tears. His offer to help you hanging in the air while you took a deep breath, trying to keep the beads in your eyes at bay. 
“I don’t know how to fix this, Hotch. Even if I wanted to let you help. Everything I’ve tried has only made this worse. I can’t get out. I come close but then each time I think I have a handle on my senses, I end up sinking further from the surface again.” You hear your boss actually take an audible gulp. His throat is tightening hearing you admit you’ve been struggling this much. The way your voice keeps wavering mid sentence is making his chest feel tight. “I don’t know how much longer I can keep treading water, Aaron. I’m tired. I’m so, so tired. There’s just no end to this.” You bury your head in your hands, only when your palms meet your cheeks do you realise they’re wet with tears you’ve held back for too long. The dam has burst.
“You start by admitting you’re not okay. You start by talking to a friend, or even just someone you can bear, and you admit that one person cannot move this mountain alone. You just did that.” A warm hand lands on your shaking shoulder as you move to sit more upright again, finally turning to look at the kind soul seated next to you. ‘Someone you can bear’ you note that this must be the sentiment aaron thinks he holds in your mind. God you’ve made such a mess of things. “It’s hard. I can’t pretend that reaching the other side of this is easy, or even that it’s fast… or linear. There are a dozen ups and downs and it’s so so slow going, but one day, you look up and it dawns on you that you haven’t been carrying such a weight around for a while. You realise it’s lifted. Little by little, without you even knowing, it got better… It does get better, Y/N. It did for me, at least.” 
You face the older man fully now, searching those deep, soulful eyes of his for the slightest hint that he’s lying. That he’s making this up just so you won’t stop treading water. 
“And I was like you. I won’t lie. I thought I was handling it, and I was handling it, and even as I lost my handle on it, I refused to let people in. To let them even see how bad things were. I couldn’t face my own employees knowing they’d seen me so weak or so vulnerable. I thought they’d all be disappointed to learn their unshakeable unbreakable boss was exactly as terrified and shattered as a person can be. But, you start with a conversation, and then you start changing the way you talk to yourself. The way you treat yourself. If we treated ourselves half as well as we’re willing to treat other people, I really think we’d live an awful lot longer. Fuller lives, too. But, I digress. I just wanted to say that I’m in no way disappointed in you. In fact I’m proud of you. Every day, no matter how bad you’ve been feeling, you have walked through that door and you have tried, even for a second, greeting this unit with a smile. Every day you’ve tried. Even if there was a whiff of alcohol on your breath from the long night before, or if you had to take home half your work for the day, trying to complete a respectable amount even though your brain is so clouded with shit that you can’t even find the lead end of a pencil. Even the mornings you’ve come in with fresh nicks and cuts from shaving yourself with shaking hands. I have been proud of you. You’ve never quit trying.” 
You swear you must be staring at Aaron like he has three heads by now. He saw everything. He saw right through you, all of your greatest faults and flaws, and he felt… pride? You feel a gasp rip through your chest, your now thick lens of tears in your eyes making it hard to tell if this is a dream, finally, the sweet dreams you’ve been hoping would interrupt the endless cacophony of hurt you’ve felt every night as you tossed and turned in restless sleep. Aaron’s weight shuffles closer to you on the couch as he moves to wrap his arms around you. Seeing your trembling form blubber beside him was beginning to make his chest physically ache as he saw himself in you. He thinks maybe that’s why he’s so inclined to help you. You helped him. The part of his story he didn’t disclose, was that the moment he realised the weight had long since left his shoulders, was the same moment he saw you setting down your things at a desk in the bullpen. Your quirked smile as you bounced from foot to foot, shaking your new colleagues hands had cut through the ashy gray of his known world like a beam of light. He had only then noticed that his back had stopped aching from carrying all of his grief with him. 
Right now, he pulls you into him as your fists ball in his neatly pressed shirt in the back, his cupped hand finds the back of your head and he instinctively rocks a little, side to side, his hand smoothing over your mess of hair so gently. The two of you feel yourselves drifting slowly apart from the flow of time as you sit there, heart to heart. All of your months of stress and heartache and dread finally move away from the forefront of your mind, drawn to the back for once, out of the spotlight. You can’t help but wonder if Aaron’s hand is a magnet for negative thoughts, but surely that is a thing of fiction. His smoothing motions over your slowing mind sure are dulling the terror and sadness that usually run rampant through your every synapse, though. Your mind feels almost clear when you pull back from Aaron, sniffling and removing your hands from his now very wrinkled, tear stained shirt as his arms loosen their hold around you. 
“I’m sorry, I-” 
“Don’t be. You are more important to me. Okay?” 
“Okay… then can I at least apologise for being such an ass every time you tried asking me out?” You look at the wonderful, sensitive, caring man before you and cross your every finger, toe and hair follicle that he’ll let you express your regret for the way you acted towards him. He clearly doesn’t deserve to be treated so hot and cold. 
“Pfft, only if you let me apologise for your probable whiplash the morning I scolded you for trying to take everyone’s coffee orders in a classified briefing right after I’d told you I had feelings for you the night before. I think I was trying to appear impartial to you but I very, very badly overcompensated and swung the other way towards disdain. If anyone should apologise for you not meeting me on the roof for dinner, it’s me. That was my own doing.” 
“Wait, that was you going for impartial? You threatened to charge me with Unauthorised Disclosure if you saw me even blink at Morgan’s open casefile again.” Now it’s Hotch’s turn to bring his hands to his face and groan. 
“God. Maybe impartial isn’t my strong suit. Actually, maybe dating isn’t my strong suit. But, dating or not, I really want to make sure you have someone in your corner for this. Even if you’d rather that’s Garcia, or, or Rossi. I just need to know you’re not alone. That you know you’re far from alone.” 
“I think you’re about the only person who’s been able to draw me out of my own head in months, Aaron. I really think you’re the best person for me to turn to here. Besides, it sounds like however far you’ve come since you were, um, treading water, you could maybe use somebody in your corner too. I’d like to do that for you.” You only notice now that the other agent had let go of you completely when he relented his role to the other agents in the unit. You make the move this time to be the one to put a warm hand on Aaron’s shoulder. Letting him know he’s also not alone. “Deal?” You offer your spare hand for him to shake. You think for a moment you catch sight of the stone-faced agent’s chin wobbling as he steadies himself in your grasp and moves to hold your hand, not shaking it. Interlacing both of your fingers between your laps where your bodies are exchanging the same warmth. 
“Deal” He offers you a shaky smile, letting a moment pass before he turns, checking the blinds are still closed and that time isn’t really at a standstill since you two fused with this couch. “Now, let me try look up what can get Mango Loco Monster out of cotton workpants.” He stands, moving to his desk too swiftly to peel open his laptop. You don’t miss the moment where he brings a knuckle up to his eye, wiping a stray tear onto his own pants as he rounds the desk. 
In that moment, you decide that you don’t particularly care if none of the other commuters, none of the other evidence technicians or even the field agents know you exist or notice your absence. You know now more than ever that you’re not nearly as alone as you thought you were. Once Aaron Hotchner is in your corner, he’s immovable. Destined to remind you that you’re worthy of love and of pride, even in your darkest moments. And you, in his.
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neon lights // hotch x reader
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Summary: You can't control yourself and beg for Hotch to take you home.
Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x (F) Reader
Word Count: 1391
Warnings: SMUT!!!!!!!!, unprotected p in v, oral, pet names
Key: y/n = your name
AN: HELLO I'M ALIVE! Grad school has been kicking my ass, but I'm still trying to write as an escape. Currently working on the next chapter of MATD!
  It’s not my fault. Really, it’s not my fault at all. It’s all Aaron’s fault for wearing dark jeans with a black button-up, the sleeves rolled up to show off his slutty forearms, the veins tracing his skin looking downright sinful in the low light of the bar. I haven’t even had one drink and I’m already ready to drag him out the back door to the left and have him fuck me up against the alley wall, but we’re with friends and I need to behave.
         It’s like he has a sixth sense to know when I’m having pornographic thoughts. I was in the middle of imagining him face fucking me in the alley when I feel a finger under my chin pulling my face up to look at him. I look at him through my lashes and he chuckles, Rossi rolling his eyes at the interaction and jumping into Reid and Emily’s conversation.
         “What are you thinking about, pretty girl?” He murmurs, searching my eyes.
         “Nothing, sir,” I say, the honorific slipping too easily off my tongue, and I know I’m caught.
         “Nothing? I don’t believe that. Your pupils are huge, your breathing has started to pick up, and you keep picking at your cuticles as a distraction technique. If my assumption is correct, you’re turned on right now. Are you turned on?” He asks, looking down at me, finger coming down to hook around the heart ring in my choker. I suck in a breath, and he pulls me closer with the finger in my choker. “Answer me, princess.”
         “Yes, yes, I’m turned on. Can we go home and fuck please?” I ask and give him my best puppy dog eyes and he laughs.
         “Since you asked so nicely, pretty girl, yes, we can go home and fuck.” We bid the team goodnight and walk out to his car. He opens the door for me and helps me inside, a swift kiss pressed to my cheek before he shuts the door and walks to the driver's side. He backs out swiftly, one hand coming to rest on my thigh. “I think that was a new record – you didn’t even make it an hour.” He says, thumb rubbing mindless circles into my thigh. I sigh, embarrassed, and he just shoots me a shit-eating grin. “I’m not complaining, princess, just making a joke.” He speeds the whole way home and I’m thankful that Jess is watching Jack this weekend. I wait patiently as Aaron parks the car, gets out, and comes and helps me out. As I walk inside the house, he gropes my ass and I giggle. I barely make it inside the house before he’s on me.
         His lips crash against mine, stealing my breath and giving me life in the same second. He’s relentless, demanding control, and I yield to him. His hands come up to push my little tank top down my arms and torso, freeing my breasts. His hands cup them, squeezing just enough to border the line of pain and pleasure. I moan into his mouth, and I can feel him smile against my lips.
         “Bedroom. Now.” He says in that low voice that makes my panties dampen and throw common sense out the window. I slip out of my shoes as I make my way back to the bedroom and start to shed what little clothing I have left. I can hear him doing the same behind me. I jump onto the bed, leaning back on my elbows to admire his naked form as he stalks towards me. I have no time to react as he grabs my ankles and yanks me further down the bed, so my ass is almost hanging off the edge. “Now, are you going to let me enjoy my dinner?” He asks, and I nod even before the last couple of words are out of his mouth. “Good girl.”
         He runs his fingers up my slit, collecting my arousal before rubbing tight circles on my clit, my hips jump up, and he slides his other arm over them, holding me down as he plays with me. He’s lazily using his fingers, waiting for me to beg him to use his mouth. I last for a minute.
         “Please, fuck, god, can you eat me out? Please?” He grins, before replacing his fingers with his tongue. I arch my back, hands immediately coming down to grip his dark hair. He alternates between circles around my clit and shallowly thrusting into my entrance. I let him go at his pace for a few minutes before I gasp out, “More, please. Please use your fingers.” He immediately obliges, sliding two fingers in and curling them to hit my g-spot, he puts pressure on it for a little bit, just thrusting his fingers inside of me at the right pace and my orgasm takes me by surprise, thighs clenching around his face. He sucks hard on my clit and helps me ride it out. I push him away, panting, and the sight of my arousal on his face has me clenching around nothing. “Get up here, please, fuck me, hard,” I say, grabbing his face as he pushes me up the bed and climbs in over me, resting on one of his elbows.
         He wraps a hand around his cock, pumping it a few times before sliding it through my arousal, he rests the tip at my entrance and with his free hand, threads a finger through my choker, pulling lightly until my back is arched. He kisses my lips softly and starts to push inside, both of us breaking apart to watch him enter me. I let out a soft whimper, as I watch each inch of him slip inside of me. I’m always surprised that he can fit.
         “Your pussy’s so wet for me.” He groans into my ear, and my pussy clenches in response. My body finally lets the rest of his length in with a wet squelch. “You hear that, pretty girl? Hear how wet your tight pussy gets for me? I’ve barely down anything to you and you're dripping down my cock.” My hands scrabble for purchase on his back as I process his dirty words. He’s not even moving, just still inside of me, eyes watching me carefully. I grow desperate for friction and hike my hips upward, trying to fuck myself on his cock. He chuckles, a low, dark sound. “Look at you. You’re pathetic. Can’t even wait a few seconds. Are you trying to get yourself off on my cock?” I nod. “Pitiful.”
         His hand wraps around my throat as he shallowly thrusts. I feel my eyes start to close and he squeezes tighter.
         “No, princess, keep those pretty eyes on me.” It takes all my effort to open my eyes and look at him. “That’s it, good girl. You’re my good girl.” My pussy clenches in response to his words. “Do you like being my good girl?”
         “Yes, sir, please, sir, anything for you. I’ll always be your good girl.” He gives me a soft kiss, so at odds with the harsh way his hips have started to pick up, starting to properly fuck me into the mattress.
         “You look so pretty like this. You look so pretty taking my cock.” His pace is punishing now, and I’m only getting wetter in response, leaking onto the bed as his cock pounds into me.
         He hikes my legs up on his shoulders, my thighs pressing into his chest, and the new angle allows him to go even deeper, hitting that spot inside of me every time.
         “Fuck, you feel so fucking good. I love being inside of you.”
         I’m overwhelmed, senses heightened, and narrowed down to the feeling of him pumping in and out of me. He picks up the pace again, and I scream, the pressure building to an inescapable height.
         “You can take it, baby.” And that’s all it takes his voice, and I’m hurtling over the edge, panting like a bitch in heat in between my moans. “There you go.” He follows soon after and I can feel him paint my walls. He helps me get my legs off his shoulders, slipping out of me and crawling into bed beside me. He kisses my temple as I come down from my high.
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hotchnerobsessed · 1 year
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Alone Again
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Fem!Reader x Hotch | When Aaron unintentionally interrupts your alone time, it sparks a new desire in him.
Warnings: 🥵 Smut (Soft!Dom!Hotch, fem!masturbation, cockwarming, praise kink, slight exhibitionist kink) and a few swears!
Word Count: 3583
Masterlist
I wrote this pretty fast and only checked for mistakes once so I apologize in advance for any typos 😅
**********
It had been ten days. Ten days since you’d seen him. Ten days since you’d kissed him, and felt his arms around you. The cases that took him so far away from you never got any easier. But you always made a point of talking to each other every day, even if it was only for a short 30 seconds so he could tell you he was safe.
The day started as they usually did, as you woke up to the sound of your phone buzzing next to your head. You didn’t make a habit of sleeping with your phone so close to you, but when he was away, you couldn’t help it. Sliding your thumb across the screen, you answered through a sleepy voice, “Aaron?”
“Hi sweetheart,” he laughed softly, “I’m sorry did I wake you?”
“No, no it’s okay, I’m up.”
He could tell you were lying, the grogginess in your voice giving you away. “Shit, I’m sorry, it’s Saturday. I should have let you sleep in. I always lose track of what day it is on these long cases.”
Your chest ached at his words, it had been too long, and you desperately wanted him to come home. “I miss you so much.”
There was a pause, and you heard him breathe deep. You were certain it was because he missed you too, which was absolutely true, but you’d come to find out soon enough there was another cause for his hesitation. They had just wrapped up the case, and in a few short hours you would be in his arms again, but he wanted it to be a surprise. “I miss you too, my girl.”
Another pause on the phone, this time it was you who hesitated. “Everyone is good? Everyone is safe?”
His chest swelled at your concern for not only him, but for the rest of the team. Your massive heart was the reason he’d fallen for you in the first place. “Yes, everyone is fine.”
You nodded your head, aware that he couldn’t see it, but in an attempt to comfort yourself. “Good. That’s good.” You knew there was no point in asking him when he’d be coming home, these things were unpredictable, so you simply asked of him what you always did, “come home to me in one piece, you hear me?”
You could hear him smile through the phone, “always.”
“I love you, Aaron.”
“I love you, too, sweetheart.”
“Talk again tomorrow?”
Another pause. “In person,” he thought to himself, but answered, “you know it.”
No more words were needed, as the line was silent for a couple seconds, both of you simply listening to the other’s breathing, before he finally hung up.
Setting your phone on the bedside table, you rubbed your eyes before opening them slowly and staring up at the ceiling. A deep sigh escaped your lips before you finally pulled back the covers and got out of bed.
Time passed slowly, as anything you tried to do to distract your mind from how much you missed him was unsuccessful. You’d watched short bursts of about six different movies, constantly flipping between channels, unable to get your mind to focus on any one alone.
The longer you sat there, faced with the knowledge of spending another night alone, the more you kept replaying the phone conversation over and over in your mind. Something about talking to him this morning made you miss him even more than usual, and you couldn’t shake that lonely feeling.
It didn’t take long for your mind to wander elsewhere, to other means of distraction. The perfect distraction from thinking about Aaron being gone, was thinking about the times Aaron was home; the times when he was close to you, touching you, and inside you.
As you changed the channel on the television one last time, you crossed one knee over the other. The slight relief this provided to the aching between your legs made it impossible for your to ignore any longer.
Finally turning the TV off for good, you closed your eyes and imagined Aaron on his knees in front of you. Sitting right in this very spot in the living room, where many times before he’d devoured you like you were his last meal, made it very easy for memories and sensations to come rushing back.
The slight rocking of your hips, and shaking of your foot just wasn’t going to cut it; you needed more, and you wanted room to get comfortable. Eagerly standing from the couch, you made your way towards your bedroom. Once inside, you tore off your pyjamas that you’d been wearing all day, and tossed them on the floor.
Climbing into the middle of the bed, you allowed yourself to lay back and spread yours legs. Just as you’d thought about the times you’d spent together in the living room, your mind now focused on the times he’d had you pinned to the mattress, endless pleasure washing over you.
Trailing your hands down your body, your hand soon made contact with your swollen bud, and the moan that escaped your lips filling the room. Not to your surprise, you were already soaking wet, as you trailed your fingers through your folds. The ease with which your fingers now moved across your core was euphoric, and it didn’t take long until you were imagining his lips all over you.
As the circles you were rubbing became tighter and faster, your climax approaching, you were completely unaware of the outside world. All your mind was able to focus on was the building pressure between your legs. That fact, coupled with how intentionally quiet he was trying to be when opening the door, made Aaron’s presence unknown to you.
Gently setting his bags on the couch, being careful not to let his keys make a sound, he smiled to himself knowing his surprise might actually work. It was at that moment that another moan escaped your lips, one so clear it made it’s way down the hallway. As Aaron’s ears perked up, he stood still, wondering if he’d just heard what he thought he had.
Sure enough, another deep moan made its way from your lips to his ears, followed by a breathless, “ohh.. Aaron..”
The smile on his face grew even wider; he couldn’t deny how it felt, knowing that even when you were all by yourself, he was still able to make you feel this good.
Taking extra care in his gentle footsteps across the floor, in no time he was standing just outside the bedroom door. He’d had you right there before, teetering on the edge of eagerness and pure bliss, so when another soft moan filled the air, he knew by the desperation in your voice that you were close.
Although he’d already heard too much, he didn’t want to cross too many boundaries; hearing you like this was different than seeing you like this. He wasn’t naive, he knew you still had a relationship with your own body, outside of your relationship with him. You were still more than entitled to your alone time, especially when he’d been gone for so long.
So he waited, not so patiently now with his hard length straining against his pants, for you to finish.
That would come sooner rather than later, with one final whimper of his name, you crested the wave and felt the bliss you’d been chasing rush through your veins.
Giving you a few seconds to regain composure, he took one final step forward and gently leaned against the wooden doorframe. As he gazed at you from the doorway, seeing you so exposed like this, sparked something new in his mind. He’d been inside you countless times before, and could get himself off simply by thinking about how it felt as one of your orgasm squeezed the life out of him. But he wanted to try something different, and he was hoping you would be eager to as well.
Just as you pulled your hand away from your core, your breathing still laboured, you were brought out of your trance by the sound of a familiar voice. He spoke gently in an attempt to not startle you, “you missed me that much, huh sweetheart?”
Your eyes flew open, and you sat up with a jolt, the fog in your brain gone in an instant. Glancing across the room, you gasped as your eyes took in the sight in front of you. He stood there, full suit in tact, hair slightly tousled, no doubt from a quick nap on the long flight home. He looked absolutely divine. You would have thought so regardless, but especially now, after having just made yourself cum while thinking about him.
Before you could form any words, you were slipping your legs off the side of the bed and playfully bounding towards him. With his arms outstretched to you, you wrapped your arms around his waist and he pulled you into his chest. Neither of you cared that he was fully clothed and you were not, simply being able to hold one another again was all you cared about.
You clenched your fists, gripping the fabric of his suit jacket and pulling him impossibly close. Breathing in the familiar scent of his cologne, you felt him place a tender kiss to the top of your head. One of his hands was combing through your hair gently, and the other was resting on the small of your back, pulling your body against his.
Finally answering his question, you whispered against his chest, “yes. Yes I did miss you that much.”
A comforting laugh rumbled in his chest as you squeezed him even tighter. It didn’t take long for you to clue into the fact that he must have heard you calling out his name, but you didn’t care, because it clearly had a desirable affect on him. You could tell he was ready for you, his length pressing into your hip, so you teased right back, “looks like you missed me a little bit, too.” Bringing one of your hands to the front of his body, you gently caressed him through his pants, revelling in the hiss that escaped his lips.
“Just a little bit..” he confessed.
Finally tilting your head back to look into his eyes, he smiled down at you, until he was unable to hold back any longer. Learning forward, his hand that was on the back of your head tugged on your hair gently, and he connected his lips to yours passionately.
You quickly began removing articles of his clothing as he trailed kisses along your jaw, and down your neck. Mumbling against your warm skin, he asked, “think you have a few more in you?”
You stopped where you were, his chest now bare to you as you tugged on his belt. Placing tender kisses across his chest from one shoulder to the other, you stated, “for you? Always..” before picking up right where you left off.
The urgency in your movements was evident, with both of you now completely undressed, the feeling of skin on skin soothing both of your lonely and aching minds.
As he laid you back on the bed, you admitted, “I’m already so wet..” implying you didn’t need him to go down on you like he always did. You missed him, and you just wanted him inside you again. “Please Aaron, I just want you to fuck me.”
He let out a deep moan at your admission, his bare length making contact with your core. Pulling back slightly, his eyes darkened, and you felt heat rush to your face. You knew that look. You’d seen it many times before. He was going to fuck you. But not until he got what he wanted. And whatever it was, you were eager to give it to him.
He stood from the bed, and you watched intently as he pulled open the top drawer of the bedside table and grabbed a condom. In no time at all, he had it rolled down his length and was back between your legs. His voice was deep and commanding, “Don’t worry my sweet girl, I’m going to fuck you until you can’t walk anymore, but I want you to do something for me first.”
Nodding your head, you anxiously listened for what it was he wanted you to do.
“I want to hear you say it.”
Your voice was shaky as you spoke, “I’ll do whatever you want, Sir. I’ll be a good girl.”
The look on his face at your words made your walls clench around nothing. Before you knew what hit you, he was running his length through your folds and pushing himself inside you. The feeling knocked the breath right out of your chest, and you let out a short gasp. Giving his hips one final thrust forward, he collapsed on top of you and moaned against your neck.
He kept his hips still as he trailed kisses along your neck, before capturing your lips with his passionately once more. Pulling back, he gazed into your eyes and you could see the contemplation on his face; he knew what he wanted, and he hoped you would be comfortable giving it to him.
You both trusted each other completely, it’s why you worked so well together. You both knew there was no judgement between you no matter what, but you were still gentle, and honest, and respectful when it came to trying something new.
Lifting his body weight off of yours, he leaned back on his heels, all while his hands kept a firm grasp on your hips, holding you in place. With his length still buried deep inside you, your legs draped over his thighs, you were completely exposed to him as he glanced down at where your bodies met.
You couldn’t help the heat that rose in your cheeks as you watched him take in the sight. You were unable to pull your eyes away from him, trying desperately to read every micro-expression on his face and figure out what he was thinking. You would soon find out, and you would not be disappointed.
You felt his hand spread out against the inside of your thigh, his thumb rubbing gentle circles against the soft skin. His eyes trailed along your body, across your breasts, before your eyes met.
“I didn’t watch.. earlier, when I got home.. I could hear you, but I didn’t watch.”
Mild disappointment clouded your mind; though you adored the gentleman he was, not wanting to intrude on your personal time, you almost wished he had peeked. You had nothing to hide when it came to him.
“But I wanted to.”
His admission made the knots in your stomach tighten. “Me too,” you thought to yourself, but you stayed silent, knowing you were finally going to find out what he wanted from you.
“And I still do.”
Blinking slowly a couple times, you tried to interpret what he meant, and as it finally clicked in your mind, he spoke once more.
“I want you to touch yourself.”
Your mouth dropped open at his words, as you started breathing heavier.
“I want you to make yourself cum while I’m inside you.”
You exhaled deep, your mouth already dry with anticipation. “Oh fuck,” you swallowed the lump in your throat, “okay.. yes..” you stumbled over your words, “yes, Sir.”
His lips curled upwards into a smile that set your entire body on fire. If you weren’t already soaking for him, the desire in his eyes would have made you wet in an instant.
“Good girl,” he cooed, his thumb still rubbing those same circles against the inside of your thigh.
The level of comfort you felt with him had you acting on his request immediately. In a moment where your instincts might normally be to cover up, to shy away, he had you blossoming and eager to show off.
His eyes followed the trail of your fingertips, along both of your breasts, down your stomach, and between your legs. You started by resting one hand on top of his that was still rubbing gentle circles along the inside of your thigh.
You knew how much he loved the feeling of your nails on his skin, so you used your other hand to gently run your nails down his stomach. The muscles in his abdomen tensed and his eyes flickered shut momentarily as a low moan graced his lips. You smirked to yourself, knowing that even when he was the one in charge, you still had that kind of an affect on him.
Once your hand trailed all the way down, you let your fingers caress the base of his cock, as it lead straight into your heat. The countless times you’d been together, you’d never felt this before, the direct connection of your bodies with your fingertips. It was new and exhilarating for both of you, so you took a second to simply enjoy how full you felt, even from the outside.
“You’re teasing,” his voice was strained as he spoke through gritted teeth. Looking up at him, you blinked not-so-innocently, causing him to swallow hard. “Go on, be a good girl, I want to watch you make yourself cum.”
His words made your hips move involuntarily, and that slight taste of movement had you whimpering in no time. Now with both hands on your hips, his grip tightened, fingers digging into your soft flesh. He was trying to hold you still as much as himself; it was taking everything in him not to pound you into the mattress right then and there.
The look he gave you made heat pool between your legs, and your body reacted before your mind had a chance to catch up. With your fingers now directly on your clit, the feeling was euphoric. You didn’t know if you’d ever be able to describe it.
He’d made you lose control around him so many times before, but one of you was always moving. The stillness of your hips now, combined with the familiar stretch of him deep within you, and the furious circles you were rubbing against your body, had you coming undone in no time.
“Mmm.. fuck..” he groaned, “I can feel you, sweetheart. Fuck..” he was nearly breathless himself, “your pretty little pussy is squeezing me so tight.”
The soft whimpers that escaped your lips was music to his ears, “I’m close.. Aaron..” the break in your submissive exterior causing him to shiver at his own name, “Sir.. I’m going to cum..”
The faster your fingers moved, the closer that edge became.
“Such a good girl. Go on. Cum on my cock pretty girl.”
Before you knew it, pure bliss was consuming your mind.
“Yeah.. there you go.. fuuuuck you feel so good.”
With his strong hands holding your hips still, your back arched off the bed, your fingers still connected to your core. You were right on the verge of over-stimulation, but not wanting the pleasure to end. With a couple final swipes of your fingertips across your swollen clit, your body shuddered and you pulled away.
A deep exhale relaxed your entire body, as your sleepy eyes slowly opened. You were greeted with the beautiful sight of Aaron’s eyes raking across your entire body, before settling between your legs once more. “Damn sweetheart, that was so sexy.”
You smiled bashfully, as your eyes slipped closed once more. You’d hardly had a chance to get your breath back, before he was knocking it out of you once again. The sudden movement of his hips against yours, and the long drag of his length out of you, was swiftly followed by his body weight on top of yours and his length slamming back into you.
“OH FUCK!” You couldn’t help the scream that escaped your lips, as his pelvis continually brushed across your still sensitive clit. With every thrust, you felt every nerve ending in your body explode.
He kept true to his promise of fucking you until you couldn’t walk. You’d lost count of just how many times he made you cum. As the 6th? 7th? orgasm of the night washed over you, he abruptly snapped his hips into you one last time, as he spilled his release inside the condom.
Your nails dug into his skin, no doubt leaving marks up and down his back. With both of your breathing heavy against each other’s necks, you let out a faint but content laugh. “That.. holy shit..” you spoke between deep breaths, “that.. was incredible.”
His laugh matched yours, airy and weak, but blissful, “I think..” a couple deep breaths, “we need to do that more often.”
A blush crept onto your face as he lifted his head to look you in the eyes, “you like watching me, hey?”
He nodded profusely, your soft Aaron was back once more as a love-sick smile crossed his face, “can you blame me?”
Shaking your head lovingly, you placed your hand on the back of his head and pulled his lips to yours. After sharing a breathless yet passionate kiss, he rested his forehead against yours, and you confessed, “I liked it too..” you laughed again, “I mean, I really liked it..”
A cheeky grin tugged at the corners of his mouth, “yeah?”
All you could do was nod in agreement, as his lips captured yours once more.
— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —
Tag List: @ssamorganhotchner ; @ccristata ; @anlin2058 ; @sannunah28 ; @hotchgirlsummer
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marvelslut16 · 1 year
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New Mom
prompt number: 14 "Yes. No. I don't know."
Fandom: Criminal Minds
Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x reader
Rating: E(veryone)
Word count: 3.1k+
Warnings: Some Beth hate. Pining. Sad Jack. Angst. Some unrequited love, but overall fluff.
A/N: This is technically a day late, but I had a funeral yesterday so please cut me some slack. I've had this idea for a while now, and fictober finally made me sit down and write. Also, It's my first time writing for CM so I have no doubt that Hotch is OOC. One last thing, this is a lot more Jack centric than I originally planned, whoops.
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Jack is sitting atop Derek’s shoulders, a large sign you helped him make for his dad clutched in one hand, and the other holding your hand. Your arm is starting to hurt at the awkward position and you’re more than a little worried Jack will drop the sign and it’ll blow away in the wind before Hotch gets to the finish line. Luckily he keeps his hold of the poster board and waves it at Hotch when he crosses the finish line. 
Hotch is all sweaty and it’s next to impossible to take your eyes off of him. A part of you wants to walk up to him and just lick the sweat off of his face, but you can’t do that for a multitude of reasons, obviously.  Derek puts Jack on the ground when Hotch walks to the water table, and he grabs your hand before pulling you with him to his dad. You smile as Hotch places his medal around Jack's neck, the soft gesture proof that he’s an amazing dad, even though he doesn’t see it. 
“Did you see the sign (Y/N) and I made you?” Jack hops around in excitement, still holding your hand. You smile at the memory of laying on the grass this morning with Jack drawing stars and placing stickers sporadically while Jack did all the hard work writing out ‘go daddy go!’
“Yeah I did, Buddy,” Hotch flashes a smile at you before gazing down at Jack again. “The sign is fantastic!” 
“Look at you,” you smile widely at him, heat starting to creep up your neck when Hotch turns his attention back to you. “I knew you could do it!” 
“Yeah, you were right,” he concedes, having denied you for months now when you had confidently told him he would be able to finish the race with ease. 
“Can you say that again?” you gasp playfully, leaning towards Hotch. “I just love being told that I’m right, especially when it comes from you.”
“Oh shut up,” he barks out a real laugh, pulling you into a sweaty side hug. In that moment Jack wraps his arms around both of your waists, and for a split second you can imagine what being a family with your Hotchner boys would feel like. 
The team is coming up with places to go grab some food, but you aren’t paying attention, still reveling in the feeling of the arms around you, when a feminine voice breaks through your clouded brain. “Hotchner!” a pretty darked haired woman waves from the crowd and Hotch’s arm immediately falls from your side. 
“Beth,” he practically sighs, a genuine carefree smile over taking his face at just the mere sight of her. It’s like a cold bucket of water has been dumped on you, the cold water seeping into your clothes and into your bones, making you feel absolutely miserable as Jack’s hand is being pulled from yours. “Jack, there’s someone I want you to meet!” 
Like the sadist that you are, you watch Hotch immediately pull the woman into a tight hug, jealousy pushes down on you like a ton of bricks, and your heart starts to crack under the pressure. Sure, you knew your infatuation with Hotch, your superior, could never work out, seeing him like this with someone that isn’t you still makes you want to rip your heart out to stop the pain. While the team looks on at the spectacle in confusion, Derek turns to look at you- you can feel his eyes boring holes into the side of his head as he tries to inside of your brain. 
Hotch, Jack, and this Beth woman walk over to the group, his arm is wrapped around her back and the childish urge to cry arises. Jack immediately runs back to you, burying his face into your back, trying to hide from the awkwardness of meeting a new person. Your heart starts to crumble as Hotch informs you guys that he’s invited Beth to join the team for lunch, and Jack’s little arms squeeze your middle tighter. 
“Pretty girl and I actually have plans,” Derek announces, further confusing the team since he was so adamant about trying this new burger joint not five minutes ago. “I’ve been promising to take her to go see the new Urban Streets photography installation at the Smitsonian. So we’ll have to take a rain check on the team lunch.”
You sigh in relief at his saving you from a very awkward lunch, a lunch you’re not sure you have made it through the whole thing without crying. However, you tense up again when you feel Jack bury his face further into the fabric of your tee shirt, making no effort to move from you and towards his dad, even with the new information. 
“Can I come with you and Uncle Derek?” Jack asks loud enough that Hotch, who’s standing next to you, hears his son despite the fact that Jack’s face is pressed tightly to your back. 
You pry Jack's arms from your waist, turn around and squat done so you’re eye level with him. “Jack attack, you have to go with your dad today, but we can do something together next weeked if your dad and I aren’t on a case.”
“But I don’t wan’ ta go,” Jack whines dramatically, and you can’t hold back the smile at his cute little pout. “I don’t like her.”
“Sweetie, you just met her,” you whisper, you know Aaron is listening, but you lower your voice so Beth doesn’t start listening in too. Grabbing Jack’s hands you stare into his eyes, “you can’t judge someone that you’ve only talked to once. Your dad obviously really likes her, please give her a chance.”
“Not Judging, profiling,” Derek covers a laugh by clearing his throat, informing you that he’s listening in as well. “She’s not you, don’ wan’ like her.”
“Can you at least try? For me,” he glares at you and you know you’ve won. It’s obviously a low blow to use his love for you against him, but if Hotch is happy again you don’t want to be the reason Jack doesn’t get along with Beth. 
In the weeks since the incident at the triathlon, Hotch has pulled away from you. He’s no longer talking to you about anything besides the cases, nor is he inviting you over to spend time with Jack. Instead you're spending all of your free time with Derek drinking beers, whining to him, and taking your frustration out by demoing the house he’s currently working on.  
Little fragments of your heart start to break off when Beth is everywhere you look. She’s in a frame on Hotch’s desk, her and Jack are his lock screen, she picks Hotch up for lunch when you guys have paperwork days, and she’s at every gathering the team has. It’s starting to become too much, losing both of your boys, and having it rubbed in your face. Maybe it’s time for you to move on?
“Are you really thinking about transferring back home?” Derek asks, finally getting you alone during a dinner at Rossi’s. You had purposefully made yourself late so he couldn’t get you alone before dinner, knowing you’d get questioned and lectured since he saw the transfer request on your desktop as you two were leaving for the day.
“Yes. No. I don’t know,” you sigh, taking a large sip of the expensive wine Rossi cracked open, using the time to mull over your options. “I’m really considering it right now.” 
“So there’s nothing any of us can do or say to make you stay here in DC?” his watchful eyes on you, profiling you to see how serious you’re being. His brows furrow and it’s obvious that he can tell that you aren’t lying, you really want to leave. 
“You’re leaving?” a little voice shouts from the doorway, his voice cracking. “You can’t leave! You can’t leave me!” 
“Shit,” you mutter, whipping around from where you're leaning on the island to see the blonde take off out of the kitchen and towards the bedrooms. You follow after him without a second thought, “Jack! Jack, wait!” 
“What’s going on?” Hotch steps in front of you, face worried as he looks from you to his son, who’s slipping into the bedroom he uses anytime he crashes while the team is having dinner. 
“He overheard a conversation I was having with Derek, and he didn’t like what he heard,” you sigh as you watch the door click shut, there’s no doubt in your mind that the lock is falling into place and all you can do is watch from afar. “Please just let me handle this, let me talk to him.”
“Fine,” he lets out a long sigh, glancing at the shut door one last time before stepping out of your way. “I’ll give you twenty, if he’s not out of the room by then I’m going in.”
Ignoring his comment, you walk around him and go to the room, immediately trying the handle and finding it locked like you expected. You thump your forehead against the door in defeat, you’re heart breaking at the quiet sobs coming from inside the room. “Jack attack, please let me in,” your voice cracks at the thought of making him cry, you can feel the eyes from the team and their partners on the back of your head, all of them coming to see what your shouting had been about. 
“Fine,” Jack’s broken little voice answers, he opens the door a crack before flopping back onto the king bed. You take a deep breath walking into the bedroom, closing and locking the door behind you. 
You flop down next to Jack, both of you staring quietly at the ceiling for a minute- you counted- before you finally say something. “Please talk to me.”
“I don’t know what to say,” he grumbles, turning onto his side and away from you. Your heart shatters, he’s icing you out, for the first time ever he’s not seeking comfort in your arms. 
“Jack please-” your cut off when he jumps out of the bed and away from you the moment you lay your hand on his shoulder. 
“No! You want to leave me,” his brows furrow and he looks just like his dad. But your cute observation is quickly swept to the back of your mind when you notice a fresh set of tears shining in his eyes. 
“Sweetheart, no. I don’t want to leave you,” you whisper, hands reaching out to grab his little ones, and you’re beyond thankful that he doesn’t pull away this time.
“Why would you transfer?” Jack looks so confused, you can practically hear the gears turning in his head as he tries to figure out the answer for himself. 
“Stupid grown up reasons,” you sigh, a tear slipping down your face.
“‘M so sick of hearing that,” he sighs, his voice and posture changing to mimic his father. “I’ll tell you when you’re older, you’re too young to understand, you’re just a kid. Just tell me the truth!”
“You really want to know the truth?” you know his last statement wasn’t directed specifically at you, but adults in general. Jack nods, you sigh before continuing, “I fell in love, and that person doesn’t love me back, not like I love ‘im at least. And I see him every day, it hurts so much. My heart breaks whenever I see him so happy with someone else, and I just don’t think I can do it anymore. The last thing that I want is to leave you Jack attack, but I can’t just sit there and see him everyday.”
“He works for the FBI?” Jack deduces, not really the reaction you expected. 
“Well aren’t you a little profiler?” you sniffle, wiping away tears you hadn’t realized you spilled.
“Daddy!” Jack rips the door open and takes off down the hall. Confused, you follow him, is he smarter than you think and he’s figured out who you were talking about? “Daddy, you need to fire him!”
“Fire who?” your eyes widen in shock and you freeze up, you already know what Jack is about to out your feelings, and in front of everyone. 
“The guy who broke her heart,” you miss Jack pointing at you, too busy making a face at Derek who is starting to cackle. “Please fire him, don’t let her transfer!” 
“You’re going to transfer?” Aaron looks up at you and you don’t know where to look, both him and Jack are giving you matching puppy dog eyes. The rest of the team is staring at you in confusion, minus Derek who is watching on in amusement, and Beth is watching your movements closely. 
“I started the paperwork this morning,” you awkwardly clear your throat, Jack throws his arms around your legs squeezing tightly. 
“When were you going to tell me?” vulnerability slips through for a split second, before his face and eyes harden.
“When I gave you the paperwork?” it comes out as more of a question than a statement. 
“I can’t lose another mom!” Jack cries into your thigh and your heart stops, does he really see you that way? 
Everyone starts to fade away as Jack climbs up your legs, realizing what he’s trying to do, so you scoop him up. Jack immediately buries his face in the crook of your neck, and you can feel tears falling from his eyes onto your collarbone, as well as his body shaking from the force of his sobs. You try to soothe him but all that accomplishes is causing your own tears to spill onto the top of Jack’s head. You can’t leave now, you can never leave Jack. You walk back to the bedroom without another word, assuming that Hotch will be hot on your heels since the three of you obviously have some things to discuss. 
But Hotch isn’t behind you, he’s walking to the backyard with Beth. So you shut the door behind you and try to set Jack down. But all he does is cling tighter and cry harder, so you plop yourself on the bed, leaning against the headboard. Jack quickly resituates so he’s curled up on your lap, and you just let him sit there and cry. Hotch enters the room- without knocking- around twenty minutes later, Jack’s tears have dried, but he’s still clinging to you like his life depends on it. 
“Jack,” Hotch sits on the edge of the bed, reaching out and placing his hand on his son’s back. “What did you mean out there when you said you couldn’t lose another mom?” 
“I already lost mommy,” the boy sniffles, removing his head from the crook of your neck to turn and look at his father. “And I can’t lose my new mom too.”
“Why do you see me as your new mom?” you ask lightly, and know instantly that you’ve phrased the question wrong because he tenses. “I’m not saying your feelings are wrong, sweetheart, I just want to know how you started thinking of me that way.”
“We were doing stuff in class for mothers day this week,” you watch Hotch tense up now, you know how much he tries to avoid mothers day for Jack’s sake. “The class was saying everything their mom’s do for them, and you do that stuff for me. You read to me over the phone when I can’t sleep, even if you and daddy are in a different state. You take me shopping for clothes and toys, and you always get me a pretzel when we go to the mall. You make me and Daddy breakfast and dinner when you guys aren’t working a case, and you help me with my homework when daddy doesn’t know what to do. You come to all of my soccer games and buy me ice cream after to celebrate if we won or to cheer me up if we lost. You do everything a mom does, and I love you.”
“I love you too,” you give him a big smooch on his forehead as you start to sob now, you had no idea those little things you did for him meant so much. 
“Did I do something wrong?” Jack panics when he realizes you’re crying. 
“No, Jackers, I think those are happy tears,” Hotch soothes him, and you nod vigorously in agreement. 
Jack reaches out to grab his dad’s hand, pulling him up to sit next to you against the headboard. Once Hotch is situated, Jack burrows himself between the two of you, your hand in one of his and Hotch’s in the other. “I wish you loved Daddy, then we could be a family.” Before either of you can respond, Jack is out like a light, his crying must have really tired him out. 
“I’m sorry,” you whisper, you still haven’t looked at Hotch once since he walked in the room, despite the fact that he’s been staring at you the entire time. 
“For what?” he asks genuinely, his free hand reaching to grab yours. “You’re like a mother to him, it’s not that surprising, you’ve clung to each other from the first moment you met. I still remember calling you one night when Haley was out of town with Jess, and Jack wouldn’t stop crying. I knew he would stop crying when he heard your voice, and he did, he always does.”
“I don’t want to get in the way of you and Beth,” you can’t control the way your voice cracks at the mention of their relationship. “Not when you’re finally happy.”
“There is no me and Beth, not anymore,” he squeezes your hand tighter, and you can't help but look at him. “We broke up, actually she broke up with me. She realized that I’m in love with you and that I was dating her so I could ignore my feelings for my subordinate, my best friend. But (Y/N), I do love you, Jack loves you, we are a weird unconventional family.”
“I love you too Aaron,” one last tear trickles down your cheek. “I couldn’t stand seeing you with Beth anymore, that’s why I wanted to transfer. But I couldn’t actually go through it, I couldn't bring myself to leave you, and I could never leave Jack.”
“You are a great mother to him, even without realizing it,” you both glance down at Jack.
“What’s next?” you ask bashfully. Hotch leans forward, his lips landing perfectly on yours, mindful not to squish the sleeping child between you. 
“A long and painful conversation with Strauss,” you giggle at his joke, leaning in to kiss him again. 
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honeybrowne · 2 years
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𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓𝐒 — 𝐀𝐀𝐑𝐎𝐍 𝐇𝐎𝐓𝐂𝐇𝐍𝐄𝐑
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— summary: when you're intimate with your boyfriend for the first time, you come to a realization you can't keep to yourself.
— pairing: aaron hotchner x female reader
— content: first-time sex; virgin!reader; fluff; love confession; mild dirty talk; unprotected p in v, hand job, male receiving oral, cream pie, cockwarming; no use of y/n [2.3k words]
— author's note: there's absolutely no excuse for my first fic being entirely smut, but it is lmao. i love aaron being a horny fucker and that's exactly what he is in this. enjoy 🖤
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He didn't mean for it to happen. It just sort of did.
As much as it was out of his control and entirely not his fault, Aaron struggled to hide the blush that crept up his neck and cheeks, absolutely mortified and praying you couldn't feel it.
Whether innocent or not, a simple touch was all it took because it was you: the woman he had fallen so desperately in love with and wanted more than he ever wanted anyone in his life.
And it didn't help that he knew you were only wearing his t-shirt and a pair of panties.
Aaron cleared his throat and carefully scooted away from you, trying not to seem too obvious and draw attention to the growing bulge in his pants that was just pressed against your backside.
You turned your head to look at him when he retracted his arms from you, seeing a forced, tight-lipped smile on his lips.
Something was wrong, but you weren't sure of what. Aaron noticed your confusion, allowing him to breathe easier... you didn't feel it.
"Why'd you move away?" you asked, a sleepy frown on your face that he thought was adorable.
"I'm feeling a little hot," he responded, not entirely a lie because he did feel hot, just not in the way you may interpret it.
"Then take your sweatpants off."
His cock twitched at your words despite knowing that wasn't how you meant it, but the wrong head was currently doing all the thinking.
"Baby, I'm too tired. Let's just go to sleep," Aaron offered because taking his pants off was the worst thing he could do, given his awkward predicament.
The two of you hadn't taken that step in your relationship yet. You had been honest with him about your lack of experience regarding sex, and he had no problem letting you control when, how, and if it would happen. The last thing he wanted was to push you to do something you weren't ready for. It had taken you a few months of dating to get comfortable enough to wear less clothing around him, which Aaron was okay with.
It was slow progress, but he was patient... for the most part.
You huffed and started pushing the sheets away, shifting onto your knees beside him. "You've had a long few days, so I'll take them off... for you," you finished quietly, words dying in your throat when you saw the outline of his cock through his pants.
Aaron pressed his head back into the pillow, hand flying over his face because he was humiliated.
He felt like a hormonal teenager, and what made matters even worse was that this wasn't the first time you've stayed over at his place and slept in his bed. He had been the big spoon with you before, but for some reason, now he couldn't hide his desperation for you.
"I'm sorry," Aaron sighed. "I didn't want you to feel it, much less see it."
Your bottom lip was pulled between your teeth when he looked back at you, your eyes fixed on his crotch because the size was impressive, but you quickly snapped out of it and met his gaze. "Can I— um... touch it?"
His eyes widened at the request, and he glanced down at your hands to see them gripping the sheets, your legs squeezing together in search of relief. You were getting turned on, and it shouldn't have sent a shiver of excitement through him because had you remained oblivious to it, you wouldn't have asked. This was clearly forcing the issue... or perhaps giving you the confidence you'd been lacking to say something.
"Baby, you don't have to do that. I know you're—"
"I want to," you said quickly, cutting him off because you've been thinking about doing it for so long.
After a moment, Aaron nodded, slightly hesitant because you hadn't done this before. Not that he expected this to end how he hoped it would, he was still nervous about it. Being someone's first for anything bears a lot of pressure, and he trusted himself to make yours memorable, but he couldn't ignore the anxiety bubbling in his stomach.
However, when your fingers barely grazed his hardness, his eyes fluttered shut as a heavy sigh released from his chest.
The sound prompted you to palm him firmly and feel him as best as you could through the layers of fabric. His hand rested on your lower back as you did, thumb caressing the exposed skin softly.
You weren't doing much, but it was amazing because it was you, and Aaron allowed himself to relax and enjoy it, letting you explore him at your own pace.
Wanting more, you moved to straddle his thighs and reached for his waistband. He lifted his hips to help you undress him, releasing his erection that laid beautifully against his lower stomach, the tip flushed and leaking. You let out a little whimper at the sight, wetting your lips and looking at him for his permission.
Aaron gave it to you quickly, and you wrapped your hand around him, feeling his cock firm, warm, and smooth. He was thick, your fingers barely meeting, and it made your mouth water.
"Fuck," he rasped when you began to pump him slowly. "Just like that, baby. So good."
His words went straight to your dripping core, already aching with unbearable need. You continued your movements, tightening your hand a little, and when you did, his face twisted in a look of pleasure as his hips jerked.
Once his breathing began to quicken, you knew he was getting close. Eager to please, you dropped your mouth onto him, soft lips wrapping around his cock, and Aaron hissed through his teeth at the sudden added sensation... so warm and wet. He even laughed at his reaction, but it devolved into a groan when his tip hit the back of your throat, making you gag slightly.
There was no method to your movements—you had no idea what you were doing—but you could tell he was enjoying it. You continued bobbing your head, your tongue flat against the underside of his cock as you stroked the parts of him your mouth couldn't reach with one hand, the other feeling the muscles of his abdomen flex.
It had reduced him to almost nothing, whispers of your name passing through his lips, making you feel incredible.
After a few more strokes, Aaron tapped your cheek lightly, urging you off of him. He gave you a dopey smile, gently squeezing your hip.
"Was that okay?" you asked nervously.
He tugged you closer and kissed you softly, groaning into your mouth when your hand continued moving up and down his length. "That was perfect, baby. I wouldn't have been able to hold on much longer if you kept going."
You smiled, and his hand tangled in your hair, gliding down to the back of your neck to deepen the kiss, slipping his tongue into your mouth and tasting himself on you. It was messy, desperate, and so fucking salacious it drove him wild, and you could feel your panties becoming damper by the second.
"I want you," you mumbled against his lips. "I'm ready."
Aaron pulled back to appreciate the view of you on top of him, your hair slightly disheveled, lips swollen, and eyes filled with lust and desire. He swore you've never looked more beautiful... you're perfect.
"Are you sure?" he asked despite seeing how much you were, but he needed the assurance, and you nodded eagerly. "Hold onto my arms or shoulders, baby, and squeeze when it hurts. Okay?"
"Okay," you agreed, and he guided you onto your back, hovering over you.
"Inhale and exhale when I tell you," Aaron said, waiting for a verbal response before lining himself up, and you nodded again. "I need you to say it, sweetheart."
"Inhale and exhale when you tell me to," you confirmed, and he smiled, kissing your lips once more.
Satisfied, he ran a finger up your slit, making you moan softly, and he stroked himself a few times to give him a second to mentally prepare for this. You were going to ruin him; he just knew it.
"Alright, baby," Aaron murmured, positioning his tip at your entrance. "Take a deep breath in for me," he directed, and you did, closing your eyes and bracing yourself with your hands on his arms. "Good girl… and exhale," he said, pushing himself into you, evoking a gasp from your throat. "That's it, baby. You're doing so well."
Your eyes watered at the foreign intrusion, hands gripping his biceps so tight you were afraid you'd leave bruises behind. The initial twinge of pain subsided within seconds, pleasure replacing it.
Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God.
Aaron dipped his head to kiss your neck, trying to keep his hips still. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah," you swallowed. "It feels different but good."
He chuckled and lifted your legs higher around his waist to give himself more room to start moving when you were ready. "I'll take it, but remember, you're in charge. Tell me when to speed up, slow down, move—"
"Move," you interrupted. "Please move, baby."
Once he was sure you were okay, he succumbed to the feeling of your warmth. He closed his eyes, taking a steadying breath as he thrust into you. Your walls squeezed him tight, producing the most resounding groan you'd ever heard.
Aaron kept one hand on your hip, then placed his other on the headboard, knuckles turning white from his fierce and unrelenting grip.
Bliss rippled through your skin, an unfamiliar feeling beginning to build in the pit of your stomach that you chased. He could see your hunger, your back arching off the bed, and fingers curling into the sheets.
You whined in displeasure when he stopped moving. "I just want to hold you," he murmured into your ear, wrapping his arms around you to press you against him.
It was hard for you to do anything other than hold on for dear life as he began snapping his hips roughly, burying your face in his neck and inhaling his scent. He was intoxicating, invading all of your senses and claiming you as his own. You'd give him anything he asked for, needing to be his in every possible way.
"Aaron," you cried, the tip of his cock stroking your most sensitive spot deep inside you.
"I know, baby," he breathed. "I know."
Your continuous whimpers and pleas reverberated off his bedroom walls, sending chills down his spine, spurring him on. He had never heard a sweeter sound than you begging him to come, loving how it made him feel.
He wanted you to come too, to feel you squeeze him tight as ecstasy took over your body. It was the only thing he could focus on, and he brought a hand down to rub your clit with precision, seeking out your orgasm more than his own.
That unfamiliar feeling in your belly peaked, then a wave of pleasure crashed over you, your body trembling and writhing beneath him as he talked you through your high.
His weight kept you in place, his strong arms just another thing to keep you anchored to him. His breathing began to quicken and his heart racing, no longer from physical exertion.
Aaron struggled to speak, words failing him, and he swallowed. "Where?"
"What?"
"Where do you want me?" he gritted out.
"Inside of me, please," you begged, running your tongue along the vein on his neck.
Even if he tried to stay composed, there was no way he'd be able to after that, wholly and utterly ruined by you. Aaron knew he was screwed the first time you kissed him, but this... this would undoubtedly be the death of him.
He came with another grunt, painting your walls as he struggled to hold himself up. "Shit."
Thoroughly spent, he collapsed on top of you and covered your body with his, staying nestled inside. You felt at peace, like the most crucial piece to the puzzle was finally clicked into place. There was nothing better than this—you were sure of it—and you realized something that nearly stole the air out of your lungs.
You love him.
The thought should've made you panic slightly, but it didn't. You could only smile, and Aaron felt it, lifting his head to look at you.
"What?" he smiled back, kissing you lazily.
"I love you."
His body froze, his lips stilling. There was no way you just said that.
"What?" he repeated.
You carded your fingers through his hair, pressing your forehead against his. "I said I love you."
The silence you were met with made your stomach twist. It had taken Aaron a second to fully understand what you were expressing to him. You'd just knocked the air out of his lungs, an overwhelming blow after experiencing the best sex of his life. There was only so much he could handle at once.
"If you don't feel the same, that's okay," you continued. "I just wanted you to—"
His mouth covered yours again, the words you were about to say dissolving into a breath of surprise. "I love you too. I'm sorry, I just wasn't expecting you to say that."
You exhaled in relief, a sheepish smile pulling at your lips. "Well, I wasn't planning on telling you. It just happened."
"I'm glad you did," he promised, nuzzling his nose against your cheek. "How do you feel?"
"Full."
Aaron snorted. "Yeah, I'm a little nervous to pull out and make a mess."
"Then don't," you murmured, bringing him in for another kiss. "I like the way it feels to have you inside. It makes me feel safe."
An emotion you've seen before shimmered in his eyes but never knew what it meant. You figured the words he repeated back to you just moments before had something to do with it, a physical declaration of his love for you. 
He understood what you meant when you said you felt safe because he did too. You were the closest to 'home' he'd ever get, and if this was where you wanted him, he had no intentions of leaving.
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honeypiehotchner · 6 months
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Devil's Backbone (Unsub!Hotch x Fem!Reader) -- epilogue
Well, we've reached the end guys. Thank you endlessly for going on this wild ride with me. I didn't really know what to expect when I started posting this fic because I wasn't sure it would be anyone's cup of tea, but as usual, you guys went insane with me for it and it never gets old. Love you guys so so much (and thanks for letting me be the evil author that tortures you with such sad stories) 💛💛
Warnings: sadness. just so, so much sadness.
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“I have survived, but I have not been spared.” --Catherynne M. Valente
“You understand the agreement you are entering by accepting this retirement package from the FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit?” Strauss reads aloud for the tape.
“Yes ma’am,” you reply with a nod, signing your life and career away.
“You are not to disclose any of the details of this case with anyone. Family, friends, coworkers past, present, or future, and so on. You understand?”
It’s not like I want to tell anyone. “Yes, I understand.” You sign again.
“Please give me your credentials.” Your firearm was taken days ago. You slide your badge and keycard across the table toward Strauss. “Thank you.”
She recites her name and title, the date, this case number. You recite your name, your former title, the date. 
The tape clicks. Strauss exhales. You stare blankly at the space in front of you, drained of all energy.
“I am sorry,” Strauss says. “For all of this.”
You look up at her. You nod slowly. “Thank you.”
“If there is anything you need, don’t hesitate to call.”
You nod. Slow. Everything moved so fast. Now time struggles to breathe.
“You are dismissed,” Strauss says finally. “Thank you for your time. During this interview, and at the FBI.”
You manage a smile. Both of you stood and exchanged formal handshakes, and you left.
The rest of the team is waiting for you in the bullpen by your desk. Your go-bag and cardboard box of your belongings that you packed sit on your chair. 
You don’t say a single word. Rossi pulls you in for a hug first, soothing you while you openly sob into his shoulder. Everyone gathers around you in a group hug, and it isn’t long before everyone is crying, too.
No one knows what else to do. The BAU will never be the same, nor will you, or anyone here. All there is to do is hold one another and cry. You wonder if you’ll ever be able to do anything else.
They help you carry your things to your car. Derek has your go bag over his shoulder. Reid is carrying the cardboard box. Rossi is holding onto your coat until you’re ready for it. Penelope hasn’t let go of your hand. Emily is rubbing perpetual circles into your spine. JJ has her arm linked with yours, and you rest your head on her shoulder in the elevator. 
“Dinner at mine tomorrow,” Rossi says in the elevator. Everyone nods their silent agreement. 
Nothing in the world can fix this feeling or make any of it better, but a homemade dinner with expensive wine in Rossi’s back garden will, at the very least, take the edge off.
Derek insists on driving you to your apartment and you don’t have it in you to argue. All it took was one look from you and he knew.
After another round of hugs, you’re in the passenger seat as Derek drives your car out of the Quantico parking deck for the last time. You fall asleep on the way home.
He wakes you gently when he gets to your apartment, unbuckling you and helping you out. Up the stairs and into your apartment. 
You stand like a ghost in the middle of the kitchen. The place on the counter that once held the bottle of wine you shared with Aaron now sits empty, glaring. The couch where you have tossed and turned countless nights -- and where Aaron once slept -- threatens to swallow you whole. 
You didn’t realize how much of Aaron is in this apartment until he’s gone forever. He’ll never be here again, but there is no getting rid of these memories, his shadow that still dances on the far wall. A time long forgotten, a man that hasn’t existed for some months. 
You turn around to see Morgan watching you, tears filling his eyes. You blink and feel the warm tears rush down your cheeks. Morgan has his arms wrapped around you in the next second, tucking you into his chest.
“I know,” he says softly, propping his chin on the top of your head. “I’m so sorry.”
Your sobs only grow louder, your grip on his shirt tighter. You’ll fall over if he doesn’t hold you up. He holds you up for as long as you need.
“I can’t stay here,” you say, the words muffled into his chest. 
But he hears you. “I know.”
+++
You move out of the apartment the next week, after staying in a guest bedroom at Rossi’s. Derek lets you live in one of the properties he recently renovated, free of charge, until you can find another place of your own.  
You don’t know if you’ll stay in the area, or if you’ll move farther away. The truth is, no amount of distance would suffice. No matter where you go, you’ll forever be running away from the memories of this.
So, you decide to stay close to your friends. Derek becomes Unit Chief (Rossi refused to take on that much responsibility). JJ becomes less liaison and more field agent. Emily toys with the idea of leaving, but nothing sticks. Reid is going nowhere. And as long as Derek is there, Penelope is there. You don’t know what the next years will bring, but for now, everyone is close, and dinners at Rossi’s house are frequent.
You’re in therapy twice a week and meeting with your psychiatrist once a month. You don’t know how much any of it is helping, but you’re able to eat and somewhat sleep, so things are better. Relatively.
Aaron is buried next to Haley and Jack. You visit him once. You haven’t gone back since. But you think about him every day.
Love is a funny, funny thing. For you to still love him after everything that happened, after the attempts on your life. For your heart to still hold onto the small parts, the moments before it all, when he was nothing but a crush, a casual affair, a man you stumbled into bed with while laughing, a man that if he had stuck around a little longer, you might’ve seen a future with. 
Letting go of him means letting go of all of it -- good days included -- and a part of you just isn’t ready for that yet. 
So, you spend your days floating. Making it through. Fighting the ghosts that crawl their way onto your back. Letting them linger and letting them go. One by one. Until the only one left is Aaron himself, hanging off of you, arms around your neck, face nuzzled into your shoulder. 
You’ll always miss him, probably as much as you’ll always love him. The version before he became the person you killed. Part of you died when you fired your gun that day. A part of you that you’ll never be able to get back. But you’re not sure if you want it back. Maybe it was meant to die. The consequence of killing him meant you killed part of yourself, too. 
So, you get through your days as best as you can. As a person half-alive. Forever changed, and not for the better. Always wishing for the past to return, hating the present, and dreading the future.
Because you were happy once -- with Aaron. You don’t know if you’ll ever be happy again.
You dream of him almost every night, though you don't tell your therapist the dreams are that frequent. You dream of what could've been. The life the two of you might've built. A fantasy world where you moved on from the BAU, he stayed Unit Chief, and the two of you grew closer, bought rings, settled down. A life worth living. A life better than the one you got.
He will always be gone. You will never be in his arms ever again. And these are the facts that haunt you every morning when you open your eyes.
You killed a man. Who happened to be the man you loved. Facts you can't escape. A judge ruling in favor of your self-defense doesn't quiet the thoughts, the questions of if you had behaved differently. You took a life. And it was the life you wanted most to save.
In the end, are you any better than he was?
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sp1rit-realm · 9 days
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༻¨*:· 𝐃𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐌𝐄? ·:*¨༺
༻¨*:· summary ·:*¨༺ 𖦹 aaron's in love with you.
༻¨*:· notes ·:*¨༺ 𖦹 gn!reader (no prns or gendered terms) 𖦹 angst 𖦹 oopsies! 𖦹 still trying to get back into writing. pls spare mercy \(+o+)/ 𖦹 id, personally, classify this as sad 𖦹 haley mention 😟
༻¨*:· words ·:*¨༺ 𖦹 472
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The office is quiet—it usually is at this time of night. Hotch hates it; he misses the warmth of his team when he stays back to work this late. The only sound is the quiet hum of the harsh fluorescent lights brightening his office. He tells himself he's here because of this case—that he stays late to prevent horrible things from happening. He's buried away the real reason, but it's slowly reemerging like a zombie from its' grave. 
˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
"Where are you, Aaron?" Haley had asked him just this morning.
He had furrowed his brows, unsure of what she was asking, "Right here."
"No," She shook her head, "Aaron, where's your mind? I can't find you anymore. What's happening?"
"Nothing," He says, then, quieter, "It's nothing."
˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
But it is something.
He's in a mental labyrinth of emotions, stuck between the woman he vowed to love forever and you. With your kind, warm eyes and gentle smiles, Aaron has found solace in you.
He shakes his head, attempting to rid you of his thoughts. This case is important, he reminds himself. There's no room for distractions, and that's what you are. Then he feels guilty because you're not a distraction. You're kind and lovely and such a necessity to this team. It's not your fault he can't think straight around you. Still, he wants to blame you. You and your soft touch and lingering glances—you and your unattainability. And he tries to run to you, but it's like trying to find the end of a rainbow. He can never quite catch you.
But it becomes clear as Aaron stares at the case file before him. He's in love with you, and your presence in his life is a bittersweet reminder of what can't be.
Then, there's Haley, his wife. The woman he vowed to love forever, through sickness and in health: his high school sweetheart and the mother of his son. She's what can be, what has to be.
So he keeps quiet next time you're together. No more hidden grins and coy eye rolls at your sarcasm. He avoids you at all costs, and you feel the sting like he's plunged a dagger into your side.
But he can't escape you in the break room. You watch him walk in, and before you know it, you're beelining towards the door.
"Hotch," You're stern, and he can't escape it, "We need to talk."
He licks his lips before they mold into their usual frown, "What about?"
You whisper, looking at him with tired eyes, "Do you love me?"
Usually shielded with layers of apathy and sarcasm, your vulnerable words surprise him. But the silence that follows is deafening, and your armor is back on in a blink. 
"It's me or her, Aaron."
"I..." He shakes his head, "I can't."
You nod once, "Goodbye, Aaron."
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😜 youre welcome!!!
mutuals :3
@hotchfiles @hotchnerbau @ssahotchnerr @bubbly-moonwarrior @zvdvdlvr
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slutforsilverfoxes · 5 months
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Secret’s Out
[A/N: Some fluff in honor of our favorite man’s birthday 🖤]
Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x wife!reader
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You love celebrating your partner’s birthday. An excuse to pamper your favorite person more so than usual, and they can’t refuse because it’s their special day? Amazing.
Your partner, on the other hand, is less than enthusiastic about the day. “It’s just another day,” he always tries to play it off. “Another year around the sun gifting me with more grays and wrinkles to prove it.”
You’ve adjusted to his understated manner, toned down your celebratory whims to make his day special in smaller, less overt ways.
“I’m not making a big deal about it,” you’d promised your first birthday together with a smile, catching the raised eyebrow you were greeted with when he spotted the lavish breakfast spread out over the kitchen table.
“Still not making a big deal. You needed a new one,” was your excuse some birthdays later when he opened a carefully wrapped box to find a new watch with words from your wedding vows engraved on the back.
“This one is so not-a-big-deal,” you’d affirmed just last year, presenting him with two tickets to a five day island getaway. “It’s November in DC and I miss the sun, that’s all.”
And so the years have gone, keeping Aaron Hotchner’s birthday under wraps much to the chagrin of his team. Garcia, to her credit, has made a Herculean effort to keep the date quiet as requested, or perhaps she’s sworn everyone to secrecy by now. Inexplicably, Aaron finds a single cupcake waiting on his desk annually.
Aaron’s birthday was a quiet affair, that is, until this year.
The case your husband had been on had spanned many more days than expected, and you’d been forced to postpone the family trip you had planned to celebrate his birthday. So here you are, waiting in his office for the team’s return. Chatter suddenly breaks the silence of the bullpen, the unmistakable sound of Aaron’s baritone mixed with the many voices of your found family.
The kids are tearing out of the office before you even rise from the couch.
Your toddler reaches the BAU team first, and Aaron’s quick to drop his go-bag in favor of catching the pig-tailed bundle of energy midair as she squeals out an excited, “Happy birthday, Daddy!”
Aaron’s eyes widen in shock, and your stomach swoops at the FBI’s best kept secret being so blatantly revealed by the littlest Hotchner.
But then Aaron’s propping your daughter on his hip and pressing kisses to her cherubic cheeks while she giggles at the onslaught, and Jack is wrapping his arms around his dad’s waist, mumbling a “Welcome home, Dad, happy birthday,” into his dress shirt, and Aaron is squeezing both of your kids like their very presence imbues life into him, and all is right in the world. You take note of money quietly exchanging hands behind Aaron greeting your kids. Evidently, Garcia had kept the date a secret.
The team splits up to drop luggage and paperwork on their desks, and Aaron looks up to the stairs leading to his office then, his smile somehow growing wider when he spots you standing there, a blush dotting your cheeks. “You know there’s no stopping these two when their hero comes home,” you offer sheepishly, and he angles his head to beckon you closer. You’re by his side in an instant and pressing a kiss to his lips even as your children- spurred on by Uncle Derek and Uncle Spencer- protest with a chorus of ews and elaborate gagging noises.
“You were just giddy about me kissing you,” Aaron points out to your daughter whose face is screwed up in feigned disgust from her front row seat on Daddy’s hip.
“It’s not the same as you kissing Mom,” Jack huffs with the gusto of an all-knowing pre-teen, so his dad rolls his eyes and pecks your lips again for good measure.
“May I propose,” Rossi interjects, one hand on your shoulder and the other on your husband’s, “dinner at my place to celebrate?” Aaron opens his mouth to protest, but Dave lifts a hand and clarifies, “Ah- celebrate closing the case, Aaron. It’s not all about you.” He shoots you a wink and you bite your lip to hide a smile.
“Up to you, birthday boy,” you murmur, lightly running your hand across his chest, but your kids and his team are looking so hopeful that Aaron knows it’s really not up to him, after all.
“Okay,” he relents with a laugh, nodding his head. “Thank you, Dave, that’s really kind of you to offer.”
The night turns out to be an absolute blast full of good food, great drinks, and wonderful company. Your little one is currently sound asleep in her Uncle Spencer’s lap while he stumps her older brother and JJ and Will’s sons with his latest magic trick. Penelope and Derek are out on a secret mission (they’re getting a cake) that Aaron is completely in the dark about (he totally knows). The rest of you are scattered about the living room, chatting and sipping your drinks while you await the secret agents’ return, and Sinatra croons on in the background about having a love to keep him warm. Sidling up to Aaron, you rest your head on his sturdy shoulder and murmur a simple, “Hey.”
He turns to press his lips to your forehead and utters a, “Hey, you,” in return.
“Sorry the cat’s out of the bag after all these years,” you say, absentmindedly toying with the collar of his tie where he’s loosened it a bit.
“Oh, honey, don’t apologize,” Aaron admonishes lightly, shifting his position so he can snake an arm around you and you can settle more snugly into his side. “Honestly, I’m amazed we kept it under wraps for so long.”
You let your hand drift further upwards, now tracing a little heart into Aaron’s cheek with your index finger. Emily clearly used a heavy hand in her role as bartender. “Really?”
Your husband curls his hand around your wrist to guide it closer to his mouth and presses a kiss to the pad of your finger. “Really,” he affirms. “Y’know, these guys had a bet going about my birth date but…” He leans closer like he’s about to let you in on a secret, and you sit up straighter, all business. “Dave and I had a bet going about who would spill first. That little chatterbox,” he murmurs, inclining his head toward your sleeping toddler, “or her chatterbox mom.”
“I resent that.”
“I know.”
With a huff, you kiss his cheek, then his nose, and then his lips. “But I’ll let it slide since it’s your birthday.”
The lights in the living room grow dim then, and Penelope enters with a small cake in hand, her face lit up by a ring of candles. “Derek said we shouldn’t mortify you by singing, but I couldn’t resist at least getting candles, sir.” She sets the cake down on the coffee table before taking a step back as the rest of your family gathers around. Your little girl barely stirs in Spencer’s arms when he approaches, while Jack slips into the spot next to his dad and instructs, “Make a wish!”
“Oh, buddy,” Aaron laughs warmly, looking around at your big family with a smile before kissing the top of his head and affectionately squeezing your knee, “what more could I wish for?”
__________
AH tags 🖤 @gothwifehotchner @iyv-ray24 @mrs-ssa-hotch @criminalskies @callm3c0nfus3d
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thewulf · 2 months
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Criminal Minds Masterlist
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Fluff: ✿‎ ‎
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Criminal Minds
Aaron Hotchner
Unexpectedly Part 1 | Part 2
Sir
Honeybee
Oh Baby
It's a Deal
Pretty Girl
Always
Frozen
With My Life
Don't Go
So Clueless
The Last Time
Emotionally Involved✿✦‎
Murder at the Motel✿‎
Did You Just...?✿‎
Something Else✿‎✦‎
Echoes of the Past✿‎✦‎
Calming Storms✿‎✦‎
Never Let You Go✿‎✦‎
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lovingrosewho · 8 months
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Hotline
Summary: you decide to call the hotline to the precinct claiming to have information on a case, so you can meet the hot FBI agent you saw on tv.
ONE SHOT
Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x reader
Rating: T
Word count: 1689
Warnings: age gap but it’s not specified, miiiild sex suggestions, mentions of murder and usual tv series stuff.
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“Nuh-uh. There’s no way I’m calling” you tell your sister, still mortified after what you saw.
“You have to! It’s your duty as a citizen!” she argues with you, yelling from the kitchen, making you tea as you keep processing the events from earlier.
It had never crossed your mind that what you saw could be a federal crime. You had just been ending your shift as a bartender, heading to your car, but when you got to it, you dropped your keys and got on your knees to look for them, luckily, because otherwise, what went on on the other side, might have happened to you if whoever was there discovered there was a witness. You just saw two pairs of feet too close to one another, and you recognized one of them as one of your customers, then you heard a low punch and the sound of dragging. After everything got silent you entered your car and drove as fast as you could out of there. You just thought some junkie was mugging the guy who got out of that bar, not that a serial killer was loose and wreaking havoc in your town.
“No, I’m sorry, but no. What if that lunatic finds me? Or worse, you? No. They’ll have to figure something else out to catch him” you declare, making your sister sigh as she hands you your tea and turns the volume of the tv up. As she does so, the image on the screen changes to something (or better said, someone) in a forefront view, and catches your eye.
He’s much older, you can tell, you have a good age radar, mid-forties at least, for sure, but early-fifties tops. His deep brown eyes full of concern, and his eyebrows furrowed, permanently by the looks of it. He’s wearing a suit and tie, making his back and shoulders look even broader than in the footage you had watched earlier from a much distant plane. You can’t help but wonder what it would be like to feel them without all those layers of clothes. The image changes again and you let out a breath you didn’t even realize you were holding, you turn to your sister to find her looking mockingly at you.
“Eager much to come forward now?” she asks with sarcasm.
“What?” you ask back, unsure of what she means, but too embarrassed to follow up that question given you very well know you didn’t pay attention to a word that man said, too busy indulging in your own fantasies. Your sister just laughs.
“That agent on the tv? The one you were drooling over? He was saying that they’re out of leads on the case, that if anyone has any information on the last victim, he will personally attend to it and protect the witnesses”. You remain speechless, but your sister catches the slightest twist on your mouth, clear sign that you’re debating yourself, inclining more towards the ‘yes’ than the ‘no’. She shakes her head, keeping the sarcastic smile on and handing you her phone. “(Y/N), call the damn hotline”.
You make a fake disbelief and offended face at her, but take the phone and make the call either way. A local officer picks up, but when you explain the nature of your call, she passes you through immediately. After a couple minutes, the hypnotizing voice you heard before is right there, speaking through the phone. This time, you know you’re holding your breath.
“This is Supervisory Special Agent Aaron Hotchner. Who am I talking to?” his grave voice questions, although it seems much more like a command. You clear your throat before speaking, suddenly out of words and lacking hydration.
“Uh-yeah-yes. I’m (Y/N). (Y/N) (Y/L/N)”.
“What can I do for you?” he asks another question. He’s being polite but you can tell he’s testing if you’re wasting his time or not.
“We were watching the news. I saw the guy who is your last victim. I think that perhaps I was the one who saw him last” you confess. The other side of the line goes silent for a few seconds.
“Do you mind coming down to the precinct, miss (Y/L/N)?” his voice tone sounds much more gentle this time, still in charge, but it sounds as if he’s figured you out and therefore, he can be at ease.
“Not at all. I’ll be there in 20 minutes. I look forward to meeting you, Agent Hotchner”. You don’t wait for a response, you can tell there’s fumes of confusion emanating from the phone, but you hang up before even your brain catches up with your mouth. Your sister bursts out laughing.
“What was that about?!” she asks playfully, still laughing.
“Shut up” you tell her, equally playful, fixing your makeup and grabbing your purse before heading out the door and driving to the precinct.
“Go. Go meet the hot FBI agent” your sister keeps laughing.
When you arrive, who appears to be the officer you talked to earlier, guides you towards one of the cubicles, where Agent Hotchner is already waiting for you.
“Ms. (Y/L/N)” he stands up to shake your hand. Maybe it’s a delusion, but you think, even if it is for a split second, that his eyes linger briefly on you.
“Please, (Y/N) is fine” you assure with a suggestive smile, which you’re not sure if he catches (oh, but he does, even if you don’t know it).
“I’ll leave you to it” the officer tells him with a swift nod which he returns, and gets out of the small cubicle.
“Nice to finally meet you. I’m SSA Aaron Hotchner. We spoke on the phone” he reminds you (as if you needed reminding), indicating for you to sit down and following after you. You can’t help but notice the ‘finally’ in his first sentence. He looks deadly serious, but his words? Not so much.
“Well, Aaron, did we speak on the phone? I can’t remember. Oh wait, yes, you’re the hot FBI agent I saw on tv” you flirt, lightly inclining yourself towards him. There’s not much room in the cubicle, so your actions are fairly noticeable. There’s a mild tug at the corner of his lips, but he stays in character. You can tell he’s in his federal agent, work mode.
“You said you had some information you wanted to share with me?”. Me. Not ‘us’.
“Yes. I bartend at the bar the guy you found last night was. The one next to the woods?” you decide to play along his game first: answer all his questions regarding the case, then flirt.
“He was one of your customers?”
“Yes. Not a regular one though. I’ve just seen him a couple of times”.
You explain the whole situation to him, the full scene as well as you can remember it.
“How did you know the pair of shoes belonged to him?” he reaches the end of his questions, it seems to you as if this last question is more out of curiosity than anything.
“The guy hit on me the first time he was there, as they all do, but with that stupid neon red pair of sneakers? Please. I’d recognize them anywhere”. Agent Hotchner suppresses a snicker.
At this point, there’s little to no space between the two of you, the cubicle is so small you’re surprised they could fit two people in here.
“Sorry about the lack of space. The conference room, interrogation room, and practically all the other rooms are entirely occupied. With the case and all” he apologizes looking directly in your eyes, deviating his gaze just once to your lips. You lick them and bite the lower one, and he notices.
“I’m not complaining” you tell him, leaning even closer, now there’s merely a couple inches separating your lips from his. He lets out a hitched breath.
“Well, if, you think of anything else that might be useful, I’ll give you my card with my personal information on it” he says, but can’t bring himself to stand up. You lick your lips once again and put one of your hands on his knee. Hotchner panics silently, but still can’t bring himself to stop you, he quickly scans the surroundings to be sure no one’s nor watching nor hearing.
“Oh, I can think of a few ways I can make myself useful”. You finally lean in what’s rest of the space between the two of you, collapsing your lips together, maintaining the kiss passionate but silent, the hand you have on his knee lightly squeezing it and traveling slightly up. Aaron places his hands on your hips but breaks the kiss moments after and stands up. He takes one of his cards out of his suit pocket, writes something fast on it, and hands it to you.
“Well, (Y/N), thank you for coming. If you think of anything else. Do not hesitate on calling, have a nice day”. He speaks a bit louder than earlier. You’re guessing, so most people can hear and don’t suspect anything funny happened. He gives you a small nod and turns around, walking outside the cubicle, heading where his team is. You stay perplexed for a few seconds, until your eyes come down to the card he just gave you and spot his personal phone, the name of the hotel they’re all staying in and his room number. You bite your tongue so you don’t scream in delight. When you calm down, you go out of the cubicle to the exit. Agent Hotchner and you catch a glimpse of each other. He gives you a small, mischievous smile when you wink at him and head out of the precinct. Aaron lets out a deep breath and shakes his head in disbelief, proceeding to walk to the conference room, reuniting with Derek, Reid and Rossi.
“That took longer than expected. Everything okay?” Morgan questions his boss as he enters. The three of them, Derek, Reid and Rossi exchange glances but say nothing.
“Yes. Everything’s fine. What else do we have here?” Hotch says, disguising his excitement.
MASTERLIST
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colossalcriminal · 8 months
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One for the Money, Two for the Show - a.h
Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader
Summary: The title of father looms on Aaron, and he can’t seem to let go of his mistress, and she wants nothing but for him to provide her with release.
Content warnings: cheating, swearing, takes place in s1 episode 1. angst??
Aaron Hotchner’s lifelong tenure as a family man begins now.
He’s got his wife, his baby’s on the way, a nice house and a big car, a true family man.
It was inevitable for him, he wasn’t the kind to doubt marriage or children, life would take its course and he would let it, and he was sure he’d never have the chance of interacting with anything that would change that.
This odd, perhaps even life-altering, wonder had arrived in 2004, in the form of a new team member, a pretty girl. Mankind's greatest enemy would be a pretty girl. One singular woman could be so captivating she could tear down industries and destroy the world's infrastructure, and he was sure he had met her.
He himself was fresh in Quantico, just in from Seattle.
"Do you need any help?"
He wanted to decline her offer, he really did, but the intoxicating scent of strawberries had taken over his brain, and he could not produce the word 'No'. "You don't need to."
Y/N waved him off, sitting down across from him, picking up half the stack of his papers. "No worries, I like helping. I'm also trying to make a good impression."
“Don’t worry, I think you’ve made a good one.” He reassured.
Several hours passed them by, the sun had risen in their hours of work, light was peeking through the closed blinds and it was finally Saturday morning. They were much quieter now, and she had moved to sit beside him rather than across. "Take a coffee break?"
The older agent shook his head. "If I drink any more coffee, I'm never going to sleep again." She giggled, pouring herself a mug before leaning on the desk, looking down at him. "You can go now, really, I can finish this off."
She didn't budge. "I'm not leaving you behind, Hotchner." Her tone was teasing, a smirk accompanying her words. “What was it like in Seattle?”
“Rainy.”
“Oh, I love the rain.” His eyebrow is raised. “It’s romantic.”
Their faces are close together, she can smell the remnants of his aftershave and it’s nearly intoxicating. “This is not ideal.” She whispered to herself, and he pushed his lips onto hers, and despite her initial internal debate, she kissed back with equal ferocity.
He still doesn’t know what possessed his body, nor does he recognise the electricity flowing through his veins when he touches her.
In the distance, heavy shoes hit the cold floor of the BAU as the pair sprung apart in fear of the new presence in their office. "What the hell are you guys doing here? It's Saturday."
Y/N downed the last of her coffee. "We could say the same for you, Gideon." She quirked a brow at her unit chief and the unknown man beside him. "We've been here since yesterday, literally."
"Since Friday evening, yesterday?"
"Yeah."
Gideon shook his head, turning to gesture to his counterpart. "Well, while we're here. This is Dr Spencer Reid, he'll be joining the team. Dr Reid, this is SSA Aaron Hotchner," Aaron nodded in acknowledgement, offering his hand to shake.
"I don't really do handshakes." Spencer said, sheepish, relieved when no one was offended.
"And this is Special Agent Y/N L/N." She merely smiled. "I just wanted to show Dr Reid around on a weekend so the office is empty." It was smart to avoid Monday morning's usual rush in the bullpen.
“It’s good to meet you, Spencer.”
"You both should go home."
"It's too early, the subway doesn't start up for another hour." She interjected.
Aaron looked at her with a softness in his eyes that would be difficult to decipher unless you were at the receiving end. "I could drive you home."
The woman couldn't get a word out before Gideon snapped his fingers. "There you go. Now get some sleep and stop wasting your weekend away."
It has been determined, every family man needs his young, alluring mistress.
She was on medical leave in 2005, Adrien Bale’s warehouse bombing had done a number on her. He payed her visits, like any good lover. "How have you been?"
Y/N got up, moving to straddle his waist, he welcomed the intimacy, his fingertips drumming along her waist. "I've been okay." They joined in a kiss, him smiling against her lips. "How are you, Unit Chief of the BAU?"
His smile did not cease as she praised him with his new title. It was nice of her, too kind, as his own wife didn't celebrate such promotions. The higher the rank, the longer his working hours. "Better."
"You want something to eat?" Her hands travelled up his arms, soon to rest on his chest as he shook his head.
"I need to tell you something."
The seriousness dripping from his words, tinged with regret, had her pushing off of him and sitting on the other end of the small sofa. "What is it?"
His eyes narrowed from pure stress. "Haley's pregnant."
"Oh." Her mouth was left agape, just a little, until she regained the will to close it. "Congratulations, I'm happy for you."
"Y/N."
"I hope it's a happy, healthy baby."
Aaron attempted to take her hand, only for it to be snatched away. "Don't react like this."
"Act like what? I'm just happy for you."
“Don’t go quiet on me.”
It’s sounded like an order, and she was never one to disobey. Y/N scoffed. “What, you want me to scream and cry like a crazy mistress? Do you think I like knowing that you're going to bed with her every night? That you spend Christmas, New Year's, every fucking holiday, all with her!" He was quiet, and she stood, chest heaving. "All I get is office quickies and sneaking around on cases, because I'm the other woman! That's what I deserve."
“You deserve better than that.”
Her hands ran through her hair, clutching at the roots. “I’m the other woman,” She repeated to herself in disbelief. “This has been the biggest mistake I’ve ever made in my life.”
She was stumbling, grabbing her bag, she left the apartment and slammed the door behind her.
Aaron remained seated for a moment, his head in his hands. Her declarations of hate were loud, and clear as day, yet he found it difficult to breathe when she wasn't in the room.
Y/N hadn’t been around since then, not even at the grocery store, until Spencer’s faithful call.
"They want both of you back in the saddle. Medical leave's over."
Her and Gideon exchange tentative looks. “You're sure?"
Aaron smiles, just a little, at the hint of excitement in her eyes. "Order came from the director."
"Well, we better get started."
They each file out of the room, all except for two. Y/N intends to stay just to read the case file a little more, while his objective is to catch her alone for only a minute. "I came to your place a few weeks ago."
Her voice is monotoned. "You shouldn't have."
He seems unaffected by her response. "You weren't there, no one knew where you were." Her head tilts upward a little, flattered by his efforts to find her.
"I’ll send out a national announcement next time I go on holiday." The man plucks the manila folder from her grasp, just about softly catching her left hand in his grip. "Aaron."
"I didn't know if you were coming back to me."
"Don't do this because you know I'll give in." He comes closer, and closer, with every half second that passes.
Her hand is flat on his chest, halting him. “I was so attached to you, Aaron. My life depended on you,” She dares not look up at him, her gaze fixates on his tie. “Our affair had made me jealous, and I don’t want to hate your marriage, and I really don’t want to hate Haley,”
Y/N peers up at him through thick, wet lashes. “so please, don’t make me.”
His actions have a mind of their own, encouraging him to lean down and just kiss her like he’s been itching to for several months, and so he does. Because Aaron Hotchner can’t always do what he wants, but when it came to her, his Y/N, she’s putty in his hands, and vice versa.
"I miss you." He murmurs after they part.
"I know, but we can't do this anymore."
He steps away, and she’s the first to leave the tiny office.
When they’re alone there’s a potential to hurt a lot of people, it’s dangerous, and so they don’t catch themselves making that mistake until they’re outside Richard Slessman’s house, towards the back.
She’s on a call. “I love you.” The affections he hears pang at his heart. “Bye, mom.” He can breathe, she tucks her phone away.
"Everything alright back home?"
Y/N shrugs. "Yeah, she just gets worried.” She looks down at her shoes, and his eyes flicker to it for a second. "I didn't ask, earlier, how's Haley? And the baby?"
"They're good. It's a boy." Her chest inflates a little, he notices, and his eyes tear away from her silky blouse.. "I'm sorry, I don't want to-"
"You're having a baby, Aaron, you're allowed to boast." The grin that envelopes her lips was one that should been photographed, but he can’t ignore the way the corners of her eyes don’t crinkle like they usually would, or how her eyebrows knit together ever so slightly. "That's amazing, though. I'm happy for you. A boy."
Her actions contradict her words, she looks away, a way of avoiding the obligation to smile any longer. "Thank you."
"By the way," She grabs her handbag from the nearby ledge of the house, pausing at the sight of it before rummaging through. He recognises it, he bought it. A small stuffed animal is outstretched to him. "I got this for him when I was away. In the future, maybe he could look at it and think of his Aunt Y/N."
He chuckles, looking down at the toy in his hands, a little plushie of a dog. "Of course. Haley and I really appreciate this." She nods, unsure of what to say.
“I have something for you, too.” His is smaller than hers, it’s in a small velvet box and it makes her breath hitch in her throat. “I wanted to give it to you a while ago, I wanted to tell you that I was finally leaving Haley, that we could be together properly in the way that you deserve.”
She opens the box, and the ring inside is nothing short of exquisite. “Fuck, Aaron.” 
"But things didn't go the way we, I, had planned."
Her head is slowly shaking in incredulity. “This is crazy.”
"A good kind of crazy?" His features are hopeful.
Her breathy laugh is pained. "This is a crazy kind of crazy, border-lining insane."
A smile plays on Aaron’s lips anyways.  "This is it, my final, grand gesture. I love you, Y/N, I always will and I would give up everything I have for you right now if you asked me to."
She takes a single step towards him. "You don't mean that, because I won't let you. I won't let you do it." She places her right hand on his cheek, the other still holds the open ring box. "You love Haley."
"But I'm in love with you."
"It'll go away eventually, and I'm telling you this because I know you. You'll hold that beautiful little boy in your arms, and you'll forget about all of it."
The older man shakes his head, but not necessarily in denial as the surface of his eyes become glassy. "I'll never forget."
"I won't either, but we have to let this go."
“The ring is yours, you deserve it.”
Y/N shuts the box, and it makes that satisfying sound, and she drops it into her purse with a smile, and the wrinkle at the corners of her eyes makes him grin like a boy. 
And although she wants nothing more than to shout her love for him from rooftops and kiss him while August heat slips away as September looms on them, she readjusts her handbag on her arm and turns the corner around Slessman’s house.
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criminalskies · 5 months
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hello hello icon, love your writing, hope your doing good today!! 🩷
if you're taking requests do you think you could write something that gives "my big fat greek wedding" where the reader is bringing hotch over to meet their family and while reader has been warning him that their family is kinda crazy it's not til the night of, that hotch really gets it because hes just watching reader get more overwhelmed throughout the night while they drag him through all the introductions and dodge every plate of food and little mean comments from cousins. I just feel like he'd be so good about pulling reader away for a sec and comforting them through the loving chaos that is a huge and wild family and being like "yeah still love you tho". also like change whatever you want, do whatever bestie xx
Hi lovely anon! I must apologise rq for this taking me A CENTURY to write. I hope you're still there to read this <3 Aaron hotchner x GN!Reader. 5.4k words. warnings: mentions of testicular injury. your aunt is kiiiiiiind of a pervert, but just longing stares. No copping a feel. mentions of alcohol. that should be it! please enjoy!
Since working at the BAU, you have tried awfully hard to keep your biological family and your work family separate. You’ve successfully intercepted every one of your aunt’s offerings to surprise you with food at your office (and three to five of your younger cousins in-tow). You’ve successfully kept your loving parents from appearing at the doors of the BAU with over exaggerations of just how classified and gruesome your work is, no civilians past the front doors of Quantico, etc. You thank all the layers of misrepresentation of FBI work in the media for getting away with that one. 
It’s been hard work, ten months of intercepting family group texts and abating their offers to bring you food with pictures of your home-cooked meals sent no less than three times a day. You’ve had to recycle a lot of the same photos to cover up your habit of buying takeout after a long day, but they don’t seem to have noticed. So far, it’s all been worth it. You’ve successfully convinced your coworkers that you’re a perfectly normal FBI agent with a perfectly normal family. It’s even worked on the one person you have most hoped to impress, your boss. SSA Aaron Hotchner. It has been even harder work convincing your family to steer clear of your apartment whenever he’s over and the biggest effort of all has been getting out of your family’s weekly Sunday Dinner. Which is in reality a twelve hour event. You’ve only had a few lazy Sunday dates with Aaron, but they have been some of your favorites. Shed of his suit and tie, you see him let loose of all his usual restraint. You see him relax, and that’s something you wouldn’t trade for anything. So you can take all the quips from your mother, aunts, cousins, nephews and grandfather as long as you have to, to keep your little bubble from bursting. 
Aaron seems to believe you have a peaceful, quiet life. You’ve tried very hard to stage your apartment to look like the kind of place someone can read in airy silence on their days off. You want to create that space for your boyfriend, one where he doesn’t have to be ‘bossman’ or ‘SSA’ or even ‘dad’.  He can just be Aaron. 
Of course, you know each time you’ve been vacuuming or watering your plants, only to hear the agitated scraping of keys in your door, as the heavy footsteps of your nieces and nephews come clambering down the hall to your apartment. Your space quickly floods with the hustle and bustle of your loud, overbearing family. You know one of these days they’ll waltz in uninvited and find you and Aaron curled up in bed, probably giving the poor man a heart attack in the process. 
Which is why you’ve decided, after six months together, you know how lucky you’ve been to not be the unsuspecting victims of a thirty person ‘pop-in’. So you’re going to quit while you’re ahead. This illusion is getting exceedingly tiring to uphold and you really suspect your boyfriend, the expert profiler, must have lost his touch if he hasn’t realized there’s more to you than meets the eye. 
You’re just going to have to sit poor, sweet, unsuspecting Aaron down Saturday night and ask him about joining you to your family’s place for Sunday dinner. You feel bad for giving him such short notice, but really it is better this way. The less time you have to warn your mother that you’re bringing your boyfriend over, the better. Although, it might take longer than just Sunday to get said boyfriend up to speed. 
Saturday night arrives and you’ve been acting completely off. You’ve been so focused on trying to plan your warning speech for Aaron that you spaced out during dinner three times, only realizing when you would notice your boyfriend’s signature head tilt and drawn brows staring back at you across the table. You completely missed him reaching across to hold your hand, and you missed him asking you about coming to Jack’s soccer game Thursday night. The third time, when you’re staring right through Aaron’s shirt as he was filling you in on the interdepartmental FBI gossip, he knows something must be seriously wrong with you tonight to not want to hear about an SSA and a section chief getting caught in a supply closet at the gala for the Seattle field office. 
“Okay, that’s it.” Aaron huffs, moving your plate and his from the table to the kitchen counter before he comes to pull your chair back from the table, squatting opposite you now until he’s at your eye level, taking you gently by the shoulders. “What is the matter, angel? You’ve been staring straight through me.” You feel guilt wash over you as you see the concern in Aaron’s eyes, searching yours for any signs of distress.
“Oh- I’m sorry bear I’ve just. I just have something I have to ask you about. But, here, we should go sit down.” You grab Aaron by the hand, pulling him to his feet as you rise from your chair. You see a flash of terror across his face before he can reel in his expression, once again giving you his signature stare that means he’s listening. “No! Don’t stress, it’s nothing awful, just, complicated. Really.” You squeeze his hand reassuringly as you lead him to the couch. He breathes a sigh of relief at hearing you’re not about to break up with him or tell him you’ve fallen in love with his brother or anything drastic. 
You sit cross-legged on the couch as Aaron settles into the corner, turned towards you to give you his full attention, his hand still nestled in yours. You close your eyes, taking a deep breath in through your nose, out through your mouth before you spit it out. “I want you to meet my family.” 
Aaron’s dimples appear as his face begins pulling into the most unexpected smile and he laughs a puff of air through his nose at your admission. 
“That’s it? That’s the thing that had you giving me a thousand yard stare all night?” He asks, unable to conceal his incredulous look. 
“Yeah. That’s just the start of this whole speech. There’s a dinner tomorrow at my parent’s place. But it’s no small event, Aaron. My family is kind of a lot, in every way imaginable or otherwise.” Now it’s Aaron who tries reassuring you, shifting you to melt against his side on the couch as his arm wraps around your tense shoulders. 
“Angel, if they played any part in making you who you are, I would love to meet them.” he says, pressing a kiss to your temple now. 
“Okay. Well, for my own safety of mind I’m going to issue you some forewarnings so you’re at least prepared for some of the insanity. You ready?” You turn to look him in the eyes as you ask him. 
“I’m ready, love.” You admire his bravery, really. You know he’s a seasoned FBI agent having worked in Seattle, Quantico, coming face to face with serial killers and people who would have turned his face into some kind of mask or couch upholstery if they had the chance. Still, you can’t help but worry at how badly he seems to be underestimating this situation.
You pull out a framed family tree from the back of your home study, watching the blood slowly drain from Aaron’s face when he realizes there are close to 65 names being mentioned as people who will be at dinner tomorrow to meet him. You warn him in particular about your uncles Ronnie and Tommy. You know how they treat new partners in this family. Ronnie will challenge Aaron to a friendly little wrestling match, hoping to pin him in thirty seconds and make sure he knows he’s not the toughest guy around. Meanwhile, Tommy is trying to talk Aaron out of wrestling Ronnie, to see how easily coerced your poor boyfriend may be. These are crucial moments for Aaron to demonstrate that he’s not macho to a fault, nor is he easy to intimidate. 
Next, your Aunt Rita. She will eat him whole if she’s given the chance, you know how little self control she has around any man you bring home, let alone one that’s tall dark and handsome, and an FBI agent at that. You warn him not to hold Rita’s hand, no matter how many times she tries to offer it, because she has a grip like gorilla glue and won’t let him go again. If he ever starts to dance tomorrow night. He is to move away from her at. All. costs. She will shamelessly grind on his thigh after just a few drinks. 
You warn him about your grandmama, how she thinks she’s twenty years younger and can still go up and down the stairs on her own. If he sees her dawdling away, just take her elbow and guide her back. You have no doubts about Aaron here, though, knowing he’s ever the gentleman and would never let his guard down, allowing your 98 year old great grandmother to wander out of the house’s side gate or into the dog’s kennel alone. 
Lastly. Your second cousins. There’s the quadruplets, who you think should really be kept on leads, there’s Charlie, who’s genuinely known to bite strangers, Angie, who is smart as a whip and will do everything in her power to make your new boyfriend feel stupid. There’s Davie and Ruby, who like pulling off ‘pranks’, only they seem to be mistaken that the crucial element of a prank is that it’s deceptive AND funny. See, they think slipping a little roast beef into a stranger’s back pocket is the height of comedy. They’re especially into using tripwires or pretending to be floating around face-down in the pool for someone to dive in and rescue them. 
By the end of your long list of precautionary tales, Aaron feels like he’s studying for the bar exam, he’s memorized the names of almost all your immediate relatives, and the rest he’ll have to figure out as he goes.  He knows which aunts will be offended by him not taking a heaped portion of their provided dishes, and he knows which uncles will try to feed him enough beers to take down a moose. He’s as ready as he can be, and the more he focuses on what you’re telling him, the more you start to recognise the look in his eye, it’s the same look you always see whenever he’s about to enter a maximum security prison. Knowing that inmates will try to belittle him or lure him towards them, knowing he’s like a bucket of chum floating just out of reach of shark infested waters. But surely if he’s survived every one of those encounters before, your family won’t be the thing to break him… right? 
The two of you settle down that night to watch a movie, and you are especially doting to your beautiful kindhearted boyfriend, trying to make sure he’ll remember how lovely and caring you are to him, even if he’s soon to realize you were essentially raised by a pack of wolves. When you offer to make him a cup of tea for the fourth time, he sighs and drags your lying form over his on the couch, essentially caging you in his arms.
“Angel. You have to stop.” Aaron says, in a matter-of-fact way that makes you believe you have no choice in the matter. “Stop apologizing to me for something that hasn’t even happened yet. However crazy, however loud, however boisterous or blunt your family is, I will leave there loving you just as much. Probably even more, given the way things have been trending lately. Okay?” He moves a hand to your cheek now, caressing it as his soft eyes try to reason with your worried ones, he looks so perfect under the warm lamplight. He has been the perfect boyfriend so far. Maybe, just maybe, he can handle your family and everything that comes with it. 
“Okay, bear.” You close your eyes, burying your face in his chest and letting his steady heartbeat lure your own racing heart back into a healthy rhythm, as his hand finds its home against the crown of your head. 
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
You spent the next day like you’ve spent most Sundays of your life, preparing enough food to sink the titanic. Okay, poor example. Enough food to feed your entire clan, perhaps. Aaron is nothing short of adorable as he swans around helping you, it is very nice not doing this alone, you have to admit. Having him chop and prepare the extra vegetables while you’re able to watch the sauce in the pot so for once you don’t end up with half of the flavor firmly stuck to the base, having to strain out the lumps right before you go to leave. Aaron even insists that he has all the bases covered, ushering you into your bedroom to please shower and get dressed so you’re not late. It occurs to you then that not only is he not scared of your family, he actually wants to make a good impression on them. 
The two of you make it into the car, only six foil trays of food and a tart for dessert in hand, with time to spare. Aaron parks the car just down the street and turns off the engine, turning to see you chewing on the inside of your cheeks as you insist you’re sweating due to the piping hot lasagne in your lap, nothing to do with nerves. A large  hand reaches over the console to gently take your own, bringing it towards his lips to press a kiss to your knuckles. 
“It’s all going to be okay, sweetheart. Really.” He says, bringing your hand back into the space between you both, caressing the back of your hand with his thumb. 
“I know. You can handle serial killers and talking down people with bombs strapped to their chests. I’m sure my cousin's threats of throwing whipped cream at you from off the top balcony will pale in comparison.” You breathe out. “Let’s go, love.”
The two of you have barely made it through the front gate before you’re met with two familiar faces, your second cousins ‘guarding’ the front door with waterguns aimed at Aaron and yourself. 
“Password!” Davie barks.
“Davie. Ruby. You guys keep getting taller, huh?” You try buttering them up while you think of what a five and seven year old would consider a worthy password for your family home. 
“Really? Ya think so? Ruby asks with a bright smile, more gaps than there are teeth showing. You know she’s not the mastermind of their evil plans, it’s Davie that has to coerce her into helping him.
“Oh boy, do I!” You add, laying it on thick while Davie approaches Aaron, his brows drawn tightly together. 
“You’re new. He’s new?” He turns to you, pointing at Aaron with a rather displeased look in his tiny face. 
“Davie, meet Aaron. Aaron is my boyfriend.” You say puling your intertwined hands into view of the little ones, where Ruby responds with a vehement “ewwwwww!”
“COOTIES!” Davie yells, the two of them running back around the side of the house, of course off to tell their parents the news off this imminent cooties outbreak.
“That was a fantastic start. So far I’ve gotten one very passionate ‘ewwwwww!’ “ Aaron chuckles, squeezing your hand before he picks up the trays of food once more, carrying on into the house. 
You can hear the rabble from the back rooms of the house bouncing around and echoing out of the open door, your mother’s uncontrollable laughter cutting through the cacophony as Aaron’s dimple appears on his cheek. She sounds just like you when you give off a real, genuine laugh. One that bubbles out of you, throwing your head back and grabbing at your stomach as tears spring from your eyes. Aaron loves that sound. You don’t see him beaming at you from the corner of your eye line. 
You made it not quite three feet into the hallway before Aunt Rita’s speed walking towards you both, margarita in hand already threatening to spill and dinner has not yet begun. 
“Here’s our happy couple!” she all but yells, turning her head to announce “I found em!” back down the hall as she moves to engulf you in a hug. “Y/N, it’s been so long!” Rita holds you, trapped there in the hug as she’s no doubt raking her eyes over Aaron’s form behind you. 
“Aunty, I only saw you two Sundays ago.” You remind her politely, knowing that in this household that qualifies as half a lifetime. 
“I know, baby, faaar too long.” She finally releases you from her grasp as you quickly step back, half-blocking Aaron from her reach. 
“This is my boyfriend, Aaron.” You wrap a hand around his arm, holding onto him like a lifeline as you pray Rita will find it in herself to leave him alone. 
“The FBI Agent!! Woooooow, sugar, we’ve been hearing so much about you lately. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Mister F-B-I.” Rita moves her glass to her other hand, offering her wrist to Aaron as she bats her eyelashes. Shameless woman. Luckily, Aaron being a perfect gentleman, well versed in abating old ladies, he takes her hand rather briskly, placing a barely there kiss on her hand and relinquishing it back to her. 
“It’s a pleasure to meet you too, ma’am.” Aaron offers a tight lipped smile, careful to keep his dimple levels in check. You warned him that one of your exes was practically pulled by his cheek to meet the rest of the family when Rita spotted his dimple on show. 
“MA’AM?! Ugh, now you’re just making me feel ancient, Sugar. Please. Call me Rita.” She shoves Aaron’s chest, her hand lingering a moment longer than you’d really like it to, but your boyfriend has enough humility to ‘stumble’ back slightly at the push. 
“Of course, Rita. My mistake.” Poor Aaron’s hands must be burning holding the tin foil trays in his palm this long, luckily Rita moves out of the way, standing to the side and most definitely eyeing your boyfriend’s ass as he walks away, you walk behind him, shielding him from her wandering eyes. You feel terrible that he’s been here all of two minutes and he’s already been ewwwww’ed at and now treated like a piece of meat. Heaven help you. 
“Y/N! Come here, my baby!” Your mother swans out of the kitchen, your breath catches at the sight of her apron, a curvy bikini model body drawn over the fabric, with a KISS THE COOK! Tattoo and lipstick marks all over the model’s skin. Classy. Very classy. Your mother plants a sticky lipglossed kiss on each of your cheeks, hugging tightly around your neck before turning to Aaron. She takes the trays from his scalding hands and places them on the counter before opening her arms to him with a smile. “This must be Aaron! I’m Y/M/N.” She pulls him into a tight hug, his tall frame bending down to get his arms around her shoulders as his cheeks receive two somehow equally sticky kisses. 
“It’s nice to finally meet you, Mrs Y/L/N. I’ve heard so much about y-” Aaron’s cut off by a football flying between his face and your mother’s and colliding with the refrigerator. You all turn just in time to see your uncles all whiz around, suddenly very focused on the patch of dead grass in the back corner of the yard. 
“Boys! Excuse me Aaron, we’ll pick this up again.” Your mother saunters out of the back door, waving a meat tenderiser in the air, you choose not to hear the string of expletives currently gracing the ears of everyone in a three mile radius. Instead, turning to greet your other, better behaved aunties and older cousins all gathered in the kitchen, a pasta-making train formed by seven pairs of hands. You’re informed that your folding skills are needed to finish off the agnolotti. 
You’re eternally grateful to your two eldest cousins, who offer to get Aaron a drink and secure him a seat in the corner of the dining room, far from Rita who keeps walking by sucking cherries from the punch between her teeth as she eyes your boyfriend. He seems to be blissfully pretending he can’t see her, instead engaging most of your cousins in conversations about what exactly profiling even is. You hear the usual wave of ‘wow’s and ‘ahh’s washing over the building crowd when Aaron is able to tell that your uncle Scooter is planning to move to the coast and retire this year. 
Once dinner is finally ready and being served on the porch, you and Aaron are able to grab some plates, only to find that the last seats left are right between your two most testy uncles. You sit Aaron next to Tommy, hoping he can withstand the mental games, instead of Vinnie’s prodding at his masculinity. From what you hear, it sounds like Aaron is able to effectively corner Tommy, using his own logic against him without sounding too callous about it. You smile to yourself while you dig into your potato salad, how you’ve managed to get this lucky with Aaron, you’ll never know. 
Before dinner is over, however, your dad comes walking, suitcase in hand around the side of the house, having returned from his work trip overseas, the crowd erupts with a cheer when he reveals he has brought home as much spiced rum from the duty free stores at the airport as he could legally purchase at once. Scooter races inside to bring out some tumblers of ice for all those old enough to drink. Aaron stays seated at your side while you hug your father hello, and start a fond conversation with him. Aaron’s always heard you talk fondly of your dad, a calm voice in a sea of abrupt, booming family members. 
He sees you gesturing towards him, smiling warmly while you talk with your father and Aaron’s never been much of a lip reader, but he does see your dad pull you into another big hug after he asks something with the word happy. A fluttery feeling spreads through Aaron’s chest as he watches you, thinking about how happy he is with you, as well. 
His bubble of warmth is quickly burst when Vinnie marches up to Aaron, a hand slapping down over his clothed shoulder as he asks why he’s not drinking any rum. 
“You some kind of mormon or something? Or an addict?” Vinnie asks, not very delicately. 
“No. Neither.” Aaron keeps his tone friendly and measured. Vinnie wants an argument, wants a fight. He’s not going to give it to him. 
“Come get a drink with me, then. Ay Ay Ron.” Vinnie pulls him by his sleeve as Aaron carefully discards his plate on his seat, checking the dogs are safely secured away from all the food.
You turn, seeing Aaron’s interrogation-proofed stare as Vinnie pours at least four standard drinks into the glass, offering it to him with a smirk. Aaron takes it with a thank you, ever so polite. He’s hoping to pour some of it out, you’re sure. But Vinnie is refusing to take his eyes off of the man as Tommy rounds Aaron’s other shoulder, an equally evil smirk on his face. Your cousins call everyone’s attention to the lawn by the side of the house, announcing they’ll be playing a football game in five minutes! 
“So down your desserts and get your game faces on!” one of the quadruplets booms, you never can tell which one is which. Not that it tends to matter since they mostly move in a huddle. Your younger cousins and second cousins all erupt into cheers and chants, running to grab one last slice of cake and ice cream before their game starts. Your dad goes off to greet the rest of your siblings and you cross the lawn, growling children whizzing past your legs as you try not to kick any of them over. You meet Aaron, putting yourself between him and Vinnie, seeing Aaron’s nervous sipping of his drink has left him with just one finger of rum left in the tall glass. Oh dear. You’re glad he can hold his liquor as his arm wraps around your waist, holding onto you like a lifeline as Tommy continues his rant about how government workers are overpaid for their work and the FBI has more coverups than it has investigations these days. 
Luckily, your father cuts his brothers incessant yammering off, holding out a hand to shake Aaron’s, asking if he can pick his profiling brain for a moment about something. You see Aaron release a tiny breath of relief, following your father into the house. You take the opportunity now to smack each of your uncles on the shoulders. 
“Please behave, you two. I like this one. Please, you’ll have a hundred more chances to interrogate him if you don’t scare him off tonight. Just, tone it down. I know asking you to stop is pointless. But please. As your favorite brother’s favorite child, I’m begging.” You plead with them both to stop just short of sending Aaron barreling into his shell he wears at work. You don’t want him being in his unsub-defense mode every time he walks into your home. You’re met with two grunts of acknowledgement, and you set off in search of some better company. 
The football game starts up fair enough, two teams of kids playing only semi-gently against their relatives. The score is 3-2 when Aaron and your father emerge from the den, your dad’s arm around the man's shoulder, dragging him with a smile on his face to get some more rum. Luckily, your dad has the civility to let him pour his own drink, however he pleases. They find a spot in the crowd, watching the game as Aaron settles into your side, eyes searching yours to find you doing the same. You both have a shy laugh and turn to watch the game, happy to see that the other is okay. 
You engage in some more quiet conversation in your corner of the field until Davie gets a little overexcited, kicking the ball far too hard after he scored his touchdown and you watch in slow motion as poor sweet Aaron is barely able to remove his hand from yours before the wad of leather and lace collides brutally with his crotch, and his knees buckle, hands coming to hold his crown jewels as he bites his lips hard to hold in a loud cry. It takes every ounce of self control in his body to keep himself even partially upright, wanting very badly to curl into the fetal position to nurse his burning balls. 
“Oh my god! Aaron, are you okay?!” He manages a weak nod, eyes squeezed tightly shut as he manually forces himself to continue breathing. “I’m gonna get you some ice! Wait there! Or, well. I’ll be back!” You turn towards the kitchen, where you spy Davie’s toothy grin, receiving a crisp $20 bill from Vinnie. You are so going to pour that man’s precious rum down his favorite shirt the moment Aaron is able to breathe naturally again. You rush to grab some ice, filling a zip-loc bag and sprinting back out to where Rita is sitting, holding Aaron’s hand tightly in hers, fanning him with her hand-fan as the redness in his neck only spreads upwards towards his ears. 
You stand before him, holding his face in your hand as you place the bag of ice in his hand. He can freeze his own nuts, you’re sure he doesn’t need you dropping the rock hard ice into his lap. He finally opens his eyes, looking up at you with a rather strained look on his face. You bend down to place a kiss on his forehead, silently thanking him for being the most patient man on the face of the earth. 
Rita luckily has the grace to leave you two alone now, freeing up the seat next to Aaron which you take, brushing his hair back from where it now sticks to his forehead. 
“Thank you for being the best boyfriend in the world. I am so, so, so sorry this is such a mess I… Aaron?” His brows draw closer and closer as you’re talking, his eyes focused on the darkness beside the house as you try to trace his line of sight. Without a word, he springs up, ice falling to the grass as he runs around the house, looking like he really ought to have his torch and gun out, this is his ‘calculated emergencies only’ run. You trot after him, rounding the corner of the house just in time to see him catch your grandmama by her shoulders before she steps into the busy street, cars whizzing past as she blinks at your boyfriend, and he turns her on her feet to come back around the house. 
You take her by the shoulders as Aaron locks the gate this time, and you feel your eyes welling with tears at how wonderful a man you’ve found. One that will chase your great grandmother without hesitation, not a thought spared for his already tenderized family jewels which are no doubt screaming at him to sit back down. You come face to face with most of your extended family, who all ran after you both to see what all the commotion was about, and your mother rushes over to take your grandmama into her arms, thanking Aaron profusely as she turns to take the matriarch of the family to bed. 
You take your moment, as the family all turn around, following the pair back into the house. You wrap your arms tightly around Aaron, breathing a shaky breath as his arms wrap around you just as tight. You move yourself up to give him a kiss, body pressed against his as he responds with a whimper in the back of his throat and you jump back, realizing you’d pinned his poor traumatized package between you. 
“Sorry! Sorry.” He cuts you off with a bruising kiss, bodies now a safe distance apart as he takes his chance to kiss you the way he’s wanted to for over an hour now. Ever since he spoke to your dad, and learned just how highly you’d been speaking of your beloved boyfriend all these months. 
“Don’t be sorry, angel. I love you, your big, crazy family and all. I love all of you. So, please, stop apologizing, because I wouldn’t change a thing about you.” He thumbs the tear from your eyes, whether they’re from the adrenaline of almost seeing your beloved grandmother struck by a car, or from the tenderness of this moment, he isn’t sure. But either way, he’s handled serial killers, rapists, arsonists, shooters, bombers, and now your cousin Davie’s sharp left kick. He will handle everything life throws at him from now on, with an extra spring in his step. Because he has you. Yes, that includes the people who created you.
“That being said, I really need to lie down. I had like, four standards in half an hour and although I know you’d love me ball-less, I would really like it if they don’t fall off just yet.” You sniffle a laugh, moving an arm around his waist as you promise to lead him to your childhood bedroom. He can look at every ugly yearbook photo he wants to. He’s even earned the right to read your atrocious love notes you wrote to a celebrity when you were seventeen and convinced he was in love with you. This only seems a fair trade for his black and blue balls he’ll have to waddle into the office with, tomorrow.
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