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#hotch smut
uranometrias · 5 hours
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hello aly! 🤎 i saw that you were receiving requests and it's okay if i ask for something about hotch? 🥺 perhaps him falling in love with jack's art teacher, i'm in the mood for something really fluffy because i need comfort haha take care pretty soul!
this is such a sweet ask. and yes that's more than okay, you never have to ask xx it's kind of short, i hope it's still okay, i focused mainly on their first meeting, but i am open to writing more works for this universe.
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"Good morning, bud!" you don't have to fake excitement or enthusiasm as Jack Hotchner bounds into your classroom. You crouch, kneeling so that you're face to face with him, as he practically glows. His smile is so bright you fear you may have to squint as he's quick to jump into your arms, chubby little hands looping around your neck. You tried your best to make every single student that walked through your door feel welcome, but they all weren’t as agreeable as Jack Hotchner was.
The hug is comforting, sweet, and it reminds you why you got up every morning to work for less than you were worth. The joy you instilled in your kids made everything worthwhile. Jack pulls back after a moment, exclaiming that you were squeezing too tight. It makes you chuckle slightly as you brush a bit of stray lint off his shoulders. “Sorry, kiddo! You’re just too stinking cute.” You hum, and you enjoy this part of the job. You adored all of your students.
Hellos at the beginning of the day, and goodbyes as they poured out into the hallways to head to their next class. Specials at your school, which consisted of Art, Music, and Gym, happened on rotation. You had Jack’s class first period, four times out the week. His entire class though, had been angels. Through the year you'd only had about two incidents, and both included students fighting over who's turn it was on paint day. You finally let Jack go with one more squeeze.
He giggles, which is a tell that your hugs weren't all that bad. You're a bit startled when an unfamiliar man steps through the door behind him. He's wearing a collared button up, with jeans, and a matching belt. "Um, excuse me, Sir." you hold a hand up, quickly moving to usher Jack, and the other entering students away from the door. "You can't come in here." you affirm, and you look around to see if there was anything in your direct vicinity that could be used to attack.
You settle on a foam brush, clutching it by it's bristles, as you hold it out towards the man. "Stay back, or I'll-" you look down at the paint brush, and then back at the mystery assailant. "I'll use this, and you won't like it." you assert, and your students are giggling, seemingly amused by the situation. You don't see the humour in it. You'd met every single parent and guardian of your students, and this man had never been there. Which made him a flight risk, a danger.
"I think you've got the wrong idea." the man speaks, and his voice stands out. It's very stern, but not hostile. He has a commanding presence, and he seems to appraise you diligently. You take a look at your hand-print dress, and suddenly feel very childish. You loved your job, mostly because you could dress without much judgement. It wasn't like the kids were going to tell you that you looked childish.
"You can never be too careful." you retort sharply, and you readjust your grip on your paint brush. You hoped you looked a bit intimidating, but you wouldn't count on it. "And I don't see a visitor's badge." you add a second after. "Jack, come this way." you prompt, and he seems to stall. He looks from you to the man and back again. He was conflicted, for starters he had his father, his hero standing on one side. And you, his favorite teacher of all time on the other.
"Bye-bye, Daddy." and his choice is made, the small child waving his hand boldly before he's rushing off to his desk, and you're stuck. Aaron, is surprised. Eyes trailing after his son with that feeling every parent has when they realize their child is growing up. It forces a puff of air to escape him, as his eyes quickly flit back to you. His eyebrows raise, dark eyes swimming as realization sets in. Usually Jack was dropped off by his Aunt Jessica Brooks, she was a lovely lady.
She'd mentioned Jack's parental situation. How his mother had passed a few years back, and how his father had a demanding job. You'd given up on ever laying eyes on the man. "You're Mr..." you trail off as your voice cracks obnoxiously. "You're Jack's dad?" you ask, and he lets out a quiet laugh, one that's more a nose exhale than anything else. It's a fitting sort of laugh, you hardly expected the man to be the type to guffaw or even chuckle in an ugly sort of way.
"Not that you can tell by the way he took off." he retorts, and there's still an amusement that rests in his tone. "Aaron," he finally introduces. "Hotchner." he finishes, hand shooting out. It must have been habitual. You didn't know much about the FBI, but you did know that they were sticklers, stone serious. You'd done a project on greatest heroes, and Jack had managed a piece that consisted of a JJ, Prentiss, Garcia, Morgan, Rossi, and Reid. They'd been paired up with a piece that was solely his dad, his superhero. His favorite.
"I'm Jack's teacher." you introduce, as if that didn't go without saying. You reach forward with your free hand, allowing his palm to press against yours. His shake is firm, but you're surprised at how nice his hands feel. There's this spark, a feeling of lightning zigzagging from him to you, and it makes you leap back, paint brush clattering to the ground. The class seems to get lost in the mishap, watching with bated breath for what would possibly come next.
Aaron doesn't bat an eye as he bends down, crouching to pluck the brush up from the ground. He looks bemused, standing back to his full height as he holds your weapon of choice out towards you. "You should be more careful. It's a pretty dangerous weapon in the right hands." and he's making a joke. You find yourself gobsmacked, it was too much for him to be charismatic, and attractive. No, he had to pick one or the other. Still, you grab the brush, despite your fear of sparking again.
"You just got lucky you were vetted by the right kid." you offer your own sort of joke, and his smile makes you proud on the inside.
"I'm sorry for the late appearance." he changes the subject, but it doesn't feel forced or charged. "I meant to get here sooner so that I could lay eyes on Jack's favorite teacher..." you feel proud at the compliment. "You're all he talks about when his day is done." he adds, and you're turning to look at Jack. The kids were separated at their tables, multicolored smocks already on their bodies. They were more than ready for the day. "But as I'm sure you're aware, my job can sometimes keep that from happening." he says and you nod.
"Jess did mention you had a hectic schedule with your job, I understand." your hand waves tiredly, brushing off his apologies. You didn't need them, not when it was so clear that Jack adored his father. And it was more than clear that Jack was Aaron's world. "I'm just glad you finally got here." and you try not to sound as breathless as you feel. "It's important for teachers and parents to be on the same page." you prompt, and Aaron's head nods. You don't know if he really believes you or if it's all politics in a way.
"I couldn't have said it better myself." and he looks so sincere. He's staring at your face intently, and you feel self conscious, blinking too much to be normal. "You've got a little..." and he's motioning towards you. Mortification is the only thing you feel as you run through your morning routine. You'd scrubbed your tongue and teeth thrice before leaving the house. You'd cleaned out any evidence of sleep from your eyes, so what exactly could be out of order.
You swipe frantically at your face and nose, hoping it wasn't something that would make you look like a dunce or a fool in front of Aaron. He chuckles a bit as he extends a hand. "Uh, may I?" he asks, and you're nodding before you should be. It's almost instantaneous the way he's cupping your chin, tilting you head, and dragging his thumb over your cheek. He removes his hand a second later, you could almost pretend it didn't happen. That is, until he's swiping paint on his jeans. Damn, you were such an idiot.
You'd been prepping paint stations for your lesson on symbolism. You must have forgotten to clean up your face before the first bell rang signaling the day's beginning. "That's so embarrassing." you exclaim, and another student is entering the classroom, quickly hugging your side, as you offer an awkward wave to another parent. You squeeze the girl a bit, before she's bounding off to her seat.
"You know, I think it builds character." Aaron promises, and you snort. "Besides, it was kinda intimidating." he's lying, and you know it. He's trying to make you feel less shameful about it. "Anyone looking to mess with your class is in for it." and you're certain your face is visible exposing your humiliation, and subsequent embarrassment at the hands of one of your student's parent.
"Enough, enough." you plead, and here's where you get a full laugh. It's handsome just like everything else about him. "Your sarcasm's far from helpful." you huff, and you're dragging your hand over the same place he'd touched. It tingles as you drag your hands down, and you hope for your sanity Jess is back tomorrow. Garnering a foolish infatuation for your student was the last thing you wanted to happen.
"I'll do my best to keep that in mind for next time." he replies. The bell chirps overhead, a signal that class needed to begin. "Don't work too hard." he prompts, and your heart stutters in your chest. You feel like a fool, he was just being nice, a gentleman like his job required him to be.
"I'll try my best." you promise, and he smiles at you like he's pleased.
"I'll see you later, bud!" and he's addressing Jack, who ignores protocol. He bounds across the room to offer his dad a big hug, he squeezes him tight, Aaron hugging him back maybe tighter. It's sweet, but you feel like you're intruding.
"Say bye-bye to daddy, Miss L/N." Jack pleads, and you blink.
Bye daddy. And you scold your horrid mind. Jack's waiting expectantly, and it seems his father is as well.
"Goodbye, Mr. Hotchner." you huff out, and he's smirking.
"Goodbye, Miss L/N." he matches your exasperated tone. And then he's leaving, and you're heaving a sigh of relief. Jack's going back to his seat, face just as smug as it could be for someone his age. It takes you a second to float back to Earth, staring at the doorway like he'd come back, but he doesn't. You inhale sharply, good riddance. You shuffle slowly to the door, shutting it as you soon address your class.
"We're gonna talk about Symbolism today." you announce, and the kids who were far from listening finally take you in. "Does anyone want to take a guess as to what Symbolism is?" you question, and a flurry of hands shoot up in the air. There's one girl, little Mary, who looks like she's doing the pee pee dance as she tries to get you to choose her. So you do, "Go ahead and give it a shot, Mary."
"Miss L/N, are you gonna marry Jack's dad?"
Maybe today was the wrong day for paint and symbolism.
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tlou-reid · 6 months
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Baked Goodies ❤︎ Aaron Hotchner
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♡ SUMMARY: aaron is smitten for his new graduate student neighbor as soon as he meets her.
♡ WARNINGS: male masturbation, allusions to smut but nothing fully written (part 2?), tooth-rotting fluff, mutual pining & slowburn, mentions of drinking and alcohol, mentions of criminal minds-esque violence, age gap (mid 20s/mid 40s)
—♡
Aaron doesn’t think he’s ever blushed before now. The warmth on his cheeks was an unfamiliar feeling, as was the smile that was slowly making its way across his face. “Thank you,” He says with a voice that’s slightly lower than his usual tone. His hand reached out to grab the Tupperware container you were holding in yours. He tried to ignore the gentle shock that reached his fingertips as they made contact with yours. He also tried to ignore how soft the skin of your manicured hand was. It was probably a lotion, one with the same lavender scent radiating off your body.
“No need to thank me!” Your voice was so lively, so excitable. It was unlike anything he’d ever heard before. “If you ever need any more baked goods, I’m right across the street.” As you spoke, you lifted your arm to point at the house across the street from his.
You were his new neighbor. The house had been on sale for a few weeks and Aaron had been keeping his eye on it, seeing who the new family would be. He was hoping it would be a family that had a child similar to Jack’s age. He didn’t have any friends in the neighborhood, they all lived a few blocks over. Having someone Jack could bond with right across the street would make things easier for both him and his son. Especially when Aaron had to leave for days or weeks at a time due to his job.
But, selfishly, he was not disappointed it was you at all. You hadn’t disclosed if it was just you living in the house or not, but Aaron had already formed an imaginary life for you. It was just you and some pet living in the house, and he was going to be the protector. He’d check on you, you’d come to him when you need some manly job done at the house. And he hadn’t known you for more than five minutes yet.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” he said with a slight chuckle. “It was nice to meet you, Aaron!” You called to him as you stepped off his porch, heading to the next house to take your fresh-baked goods to. He closed the door, stepping in and taking a look at the container you’d dropped off. It had a mix of different treats, all homemade. There was a little note inside.
“Jack, I got food!” He yelled to his son as he made his way to the kitchen. He quickly sat it down, opened it, and took out the note before Jack could see it. “Hi! I’m Y/N, your new neighbor! I hope you enjoy these! (p.s. there’s no peanuts!) x” is what the note read. He smiled at the fact that you didn’t give off any real personal information, and even more at the fact that you worried about the allergies of the neighborhood. Not even people you knew. You were worried about the allergies of strangers. He felt his blush come back.
“What’s that?” Jack’s voice tore him away from his thoughts. “Someone moved into the house across the street, she baked some stuff and is giving it out,” Aaron explained. “For free?” Jack inquired, reaching for a chocolate chip cookie. Aaron laughed, “Yeah, she was introducing herself.” Jack nodded, biting into his cookie. “Wow!” He exclaimed, surprised at how good it tasted. Aaron laughed again, reaching for one of his own.
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It was almost a week before Aaron saw you again. The team had been called in to work on a semi-local case that lasted four days. It wasn’t the worst thing Aaron had been through, but it’s never easy to come face-to-face with a serial killer. Then, he’d just become busy with paperwork and Jack’s after-school activities. Aaron had helped coach one of his soccer games, which wasn’t something he got to do often.
So now, late Sunday morning, he was finally making the walk across the street to your house. He had planned this since the moment you’d dropped the Tupperware container into his hand. He was going to return it just so he could see you again. 
He gently knocked on your door, loud enough you would hear it if you were around, but not loud enough to wake you up if you’d decided to sleep in today. He hadn’t seen enough to observe your routine. Not in a creepy way, just the way you notice when your neighbor’s car is in its driveway or if they do yardwork every Saturday evening. Come to think of it, he didn’t know any of his neighbor’s routines. He was never around enough to notice them.
When you opened the door, his attention left the surrounding houses and landed right on you. He had been looking around upon realizing how little he knew about the people in his neighborhood. You’d be the first one he’d get to know, he decided.
“Aaron!” You were basically beaming at him. He smiled and mumbled out a, “hello”. “How are you today?” You smiled, stepping out onto the porch to stand near him. “I’m good, I was just coming to return the container.” He explained, holding out the Tupperware. You reached out to take it from him, looking at his hands. You couldn’t help but notice the veins that ran along them.
“Oh! You didn’t have to,” You chuckled, moving your eyes up to look at his again. If you were being honest, you’d been surprised when he answered the door. Chatter about the older man from the neighbors you had given your baked goods to prior to arriving at his house had you ready to be nervous and intimidated.
Instead, you were undeniably attracted to him. When he had first opened the door after hearing your timid knocks, you couldn’t help but let your eyes scan his broad form. You didn’t think he had noticed, as he was too busy trying to figure out why someone was unexpectedly knocking at his door.
“Did you like them?” You asked with wide eyes. He could tell you were genuinely curious. “I did,” He smiled as he continued, “With the few that I had at least. My son loved them.”
“Your son?” You couldn’t stop yourself from asking. Of course, an attractive man like him was married with kids. You weren’t sure why hadn’t assumed that before. “Yeah, Jack. He’s my son.” Aaron was awkward, not really knowing what you were asking. You recovered quickly, “Which ones were his favorite? I can make more!” Aaron smiled with a slight shake of his head, “He loved them all, you don’t have to worry about any of that.” You laughed, “I do! I love baking, it’s a nice way to pass time.” Aaron nodded along to your words, “I guess he liked the brownies the most, they were gone in a day.” You smiled, taking a mental note. 
“And your wife?” There was a hidden motive behind this question, one you hoped Aaron didn’t pick up on. You wanted, no, needed to know the details of this man’s life. You needed to know if you could keep up the fantasy you were creating of him. He let out an awkward laugh, “Uh, no,” he cleared his throat, “No wife. Just me and Jack.” You almost wanted to break out into a smile at his words, but you knew that would be inappropriate.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to like, pry, or anything.” The awkward tone of the conversation was beginning to make you uncomfortable. As much as you wanted to know, you didn’t want to blow your chances with him. “It’s okay,” he comforts you when it should definitely be the other way around, “Just a bit of a touchy subject.” You nodded in understanding. You two stood there in silence for a little bit, before Aaron stepped back. “I should get back,” He said, nodding towards his house.
“Yeah, yeah. It was good to see you again.” Aaron took note of the awkward smile and lack of eagerness in your voice. “You too, Y/N. See you around.” He stuck his hands in his pockets as he walked down the steps of your porch
He was just reaching the curb on his side of the street when he heard someone yell your name. You hadn’t retreated back into your house, instead opting to tidy up the furniture on your porch. He didn’t know you were waiting to make sure he had made it into the house safely. Aaron watched as the man who lived two houses down from you began to approach your porch.
“The cookies were delicious!” The man was still shouting as he walked over. Aaron couldn’t tear his eyes away from you. He watched as you giggled at his words, yelling back, “Thank you!” When the man approached you, he handed off the same kind of Tupperware container Aaron had given you. Aaron couldn’t help the jealousy that took over him as he realized this man and he had the same idea: returning the container just to see you again.
Once the man reached you and Aaron could no longer hear your conversation, he turned to continue walking back toward his home. He couldn’t help but notice how you giggled at this man’s words. Your conversation with him felt so natural, which was very different from the uncomfortable conversation you two had.
Aaron couldn’t help but feel insecure about this. Of course, you’d want to conversate with the younger, handsome, athletic guy who lived in the neighborhood. Why would you choose an older man who had a child and knees that creaked when he stood from his office chair? You wouldn’t. No one would.
Little did Aaron know, you had been watching him the entire time you were talking to the neighbor. You couldn’t help but check Aaron out as he walked away. His sweatpants hugged his hips deliciously and the athletic fit shirt showed off the muscles in his back. Aaron was hot and you couldn’t deny it.
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The next time you saw Aaron was very unexpected. Your friend, Elise, had convinced you to volunteer at the local middle school, working the door for entry to the soccer game they were hosting on a Friday night. Part of her grad school program involved her working at this school, so you guys had signed up together. She was excited to see the students she had been working closely with.
 You, however, had completely forgotten you had a paper due for one of your graduate classes. So, she was up, selling tickets, conversating with parents, and wishing the students good luck, while you had your nose buried in your laptop. Textbooks and articles were spread across the table that was holding the register for the ticket money.
“Jack! You’re gonna do great!” You heard Elise encourage one of the students, not really paying attention anymore. It wasn’t until you heard a familiar voice that you looked up from your halfway-done paper. “He’s been practicing hard,” Aaron smiled, touselling the hair on the little boy’s head.
Your movement from behind your laptop caught his attention. “Hello, Y/N,” he said, not expecting to see you there. Jack and your friend both turned to face you, surprised that you and Aaron knew each other.
Aaron pushed Jack forward with a gentle hand on his back, “Buddy, do you remember the cookies and stuff our neighbor had dropped off?” Aaron asked him, ready to introduce you two. “You made them?” Jack asked, stepping closer to you. You nodded at him with a smile, “Yes! I live across the street from you!” You smiled at the young boy. You didn’t notice the eyebrow raise your friend gave you, knowing about the crush you had said you were growing on your older neighbor. She was connecting the dots.
“Do you work here?” Aaron asked as Jack ran into the stadium to join his team. You shook your head, pointing to Elise, “She does. She needed volunteers and asked me to work.” Aaron nodded. He let out a light laugh and pointed to your laptop, “Doesn’t seem like you're doing a lot of work.”
Your cheeks started to warm up in embarrassment, “I have a paper due that I completely forgot about.” Aaron was shocked to hear you discussing college. He thought you were older than that. “You’re in college?” He asked. You nodded again, “Grad school. I only have one more semester until I graduate.” You explained, and he relaxed. You were older than an undergraduate. 
He knew you were young, but he didn’t think he was being perverted by forming a small crush on you. Sure, some people may deem it inappropriate, but it is up to you in the end. If, by some miniscule chance, you harbored the same feelings he did, he wouldn’t feel weird about it, he didn’t think.
Aaron questioned what you were studying and you explained your major, your intended career, and how passionate you were about what you were doing. As your face lit up and your hands aided in your expressive explanation, it was as if Aaron could feel fondness growing in his chest. He began to feel warm, as if you were the sun shining on him.
 He hasn’t felt like this in a long time. The only feeling that could mirror what he was feeling now was when Jack got crowned MVP at his last soccer tournament. It’s the kind of pride that you feel when you know someone is going to go far. Aaron wanted to go with you.
Unfortunately, the buzzer interrupted his thoughts. He let out a breath, a small “Shit” escaping from his lips before he continued, “I gotta get to my seat.” He chucked, rushing away, “Good to see you.” He nodded at you and your friend before disappearing into the stadium.
“So that’s him? The hot next-door neighbor?” Elise squealed, with a wiggle of her eyebrows. “Elise! Stop!” You whisper-shouted at her, still weary of Aaron’s presence, “I have a paper to finish.” She laughed at the way you made your eyes big, emphasizing that she needed to drop the subject.
“Okay,” Elise breathed out after a while, relaxing in the seat next to you, “we’re done!” You nodded at her words, moving to save the file on your laptop. “What’s next?” You asked as you closed it, deciding to finish the paper later. “You hungry? The concession stand has fantastic pizza!” Even if you weren’t, the way she practically moaned about it had you wanting this pizza. “Sure,” you shrugged. You packed up your things as Elise dropped off the register where it needed to go, and then you guys headed into the stadium.
The line for the concession stand moved quickly. You couldn’t help but scan the stands for Aaron, wondering where he ended up sitting. When Elise proposed staying to see the end of the game, you agreed, solely because it would increase your chances of seeing him again.
And, you did. Not until the very end of the game, after the buzzer had sounded and Jack’s team ran to the sidelines, celebrating the win they had just claimed. The only way you found Aaron was through the cheers. He was the loudest one, the proudest parent sitting amongst the whole school. It brought a smile to your face to know how much he loved his son.
“Congratulations, kid!” Elise cheered for Jack as he approached the entrance to the field, by where you two were standing waiting to congratulate the team. Jack just smiled before turning back to his friends. “You guys did great!” You called from behind her. Aaron smiled at you as he reached where you and Elise were stood.
“So, will you guys be at more games?” He wasn’t going to invite you, as he felt that would be overstepping some invisible boundary he had made up in his head. But, if you were going to be around anyway he could at least offer to sit with you. “I definitely will be!” Elise cheered, turning to you. “I’ll see. You never know with school and work.” You shrugged, trying to mask the disappointment. You were not aware that Aaron was doing the same.
“Dad!” Jack shouts, running over to his father, “Can I sleep at Chris’ house tonight? The whole team is going!” You couldn’t help but notice how adorable he looked, and the fond look Aaron gave back to him. “Sure thing, buddy. Let’s just run home to get your stuff.” Aaron turned to bid a quick goodbye to you and Elise. To your surprise, he turned back to you. “Did you need a ride home?”
You stuttered at his words, “Uh, no, um, Elise-” “Yes, she does! I was her ride but my boyfriend just asked to meet somewhere!” Elise nudged you as she cut you off. She waved her phone to emphasize her point. “Thanks, Mr. Hotchner, you’re the best! Have fun at your sleepover, Jack!” Elise said as she stepped away from the group. Once you were the only one that could see her, she threw you a big smile and thumbs up, before taking off to your car.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize that happened,” You gestured to your friend running off as you apologized. “No need to be sorry, I wouldn’t have offered if it bothered me. It’s not like you live far away.” You nodded and smiled at Aaron’s comforting words, thanking him again. “C’mon, the car’s this way.” You followed him and Jack, watching as Aaron congratulated Jack on the win and questioned him on the different strategies the team uses throughout.
Aaron opened the passenger door as Jack climbed his way into the back. Your jaw almost dropped as you realized he opened it for you. It was so casual. He didn’t even stop his conversation with Jack as he held it open for you. He laughed at something as you buckled your seat belt up.
 When he leaned over to check that you were comfortable in the seat, his eyes met yours. He gave you the softest smile you’d ever seen and you could feel butterflies take flight in your stomach. Your cheeks felt warm and you looked down at your hands, growing nervous under his gaze. You mumbled a soft “thank you” as he closed your door, walking around to the driver’s side.
Aaron noticed your nervousness this time. He could tell you were shocked at his actions. Initially, this made him sad as he realized that no man had ever shown you the care you deserved. However, that sadness quickly turned to excitement as he realized he could be the first. He wanted to show you how you deserved to be loved in so many ways, definitely more than just opening a door for you.
The drive to your homes was filled with laughter as you and Jack tried to sing the pop songs that were steadily playing on the radio. Jack kept stumbling over the words and you could not carry a tune to save your life. Aaron had matching butterflies to yours as you interacted with his son.
His car pulled into the driveway and Jack was inside the house faster than you could even open your door. You both laughed as Aaron made his way around the car to stand with you. “I can walk you across while he gets his things,” Aaron gestured to his house, indicating Jack might be a second inside.
“You don’t have to. Get him to his sleepover, he seems excited.” Aaron laughed, nodding along to your words. “Have a good night, Aaron.” He wished you the same and watched as you made your way to your house. His eyes didn’t leave your figure until you were safely inside.
Jack gathered his things for the sleepover very quickly. Aaron was almost certain he had forgotten something as they made their way back into the car. Once they were buckled and on their way, Jack shifted his body to face his dad.
“Dad?” He asked, getting his father’s attention. Aaron let out a gentle “hmm” of recognition. “Do you have a crush on our neighbor?” Aaron didn’t answer, reaching forward to turn up the radio, but the pink spreading across his dad’s cheeks was the only answer Jack needed.
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Aaron was exhausted. Completely and totally exhausted. The case and been long and gut-wrenching. The only victory was the arrest of the unsub, as he had murdered all of his previous victims before the team could save them. Aaron was gone for two and a half weeks, and barely got any sleep while he was away.
“Thanks, JJ,” His voice was weak as he thanked her, reaching into the back of the SUV to get his go-bag. He had been too tired to drive himself. JJ had kindly offered after seeing the dark eye bags he was wearing. “Anytime, Hotch. Get some sleep.” He could only muster up a nod in return.
Aaron was turning the key in his lock when he heard your door. “Shit!” You yelped as the glass outer door slammed. He turned around with a chuckle, never too tired to see you. “Hello, Y/N!” He called as best he could with how tired he was.
He was suddenly wide awake when you faced him. He hoped you couldn’t see his eyes scan the entirety of your body, pausing at your very exposed thighs. You were in a loose, long-sleeved t-shirt that came down the end of your butt. The shorts you were wearing with it were incredibly short, barely covered by the shirt. Even with the distance between your houses, he could tell you weren’t wearing a bra.
He wanted to blame the way his dick was hardening on how tired he was, and definitely not the dirty thoughts he was having about you right now. He could imagine the way his rough hands would trace the skin across your thighs as he pulled you into his lap, preparing to devour you. His fantasies did not slow as you yelled back to him, very excitedly, “Aaron! Where have you been?”
He shook his head, attempting to clear it so he could have a normal conversation with you. His heart fluttered at the fact that you’d noticed his disappearance. “I was away for work,” he informed, “for far too long.” You erupted into a smile, walking off your porch, “Well, the neighborhood missed you!” He knew you were lying. No one in this neighborhood knew him. They didn’t care if he was gone or not.
But, being a profiler had its perks. He knew the hidden meaning in your words. You missed him. His brain was tired and his heart was beating a million times a minute. That must’ve been why his mouth was moving before he could stop it, “I missed you too.” The words rolled off of his tongue, no thought behind them. No thoughts, but definitely feelings.
You hoped Aaron couldn’t see the way your eyes lit up at his words. You could feel the heat growing in your cheeks as you continued to make your way to your little garden. That’s why you were out here, to get your front yard set up for Halloween decorations. “Get some rest, Aaron. Welcome home.
Even with you raising your voice, he could hear the softness behind it. You sounded so fond. This is how he wanted to be welcomed home after every case, with your sweet voice and gentle demeanor. “Have a nice night!” He called to you, before stepping through his front door.
He dropped his stuff by the door and reached up to loosen his tie. He kicked his shoes off and then moved to undo his belt. Leaving both the tie and the belt on the arm of the couch, he made his way right to the master bathroom. He had texted Jessica to let her know he would pick Jack up in the morning during the drive home, too tired to make the drive to her house.
Aaron had forgotten about his half-hard dick, too encompassed by your presence outside. He ignored it, stripping down and climbing into the hot shower. He hadn’t realized how tense his muscles were until the hot water ran down them, relaxing his whole body. As he loosened up, his mind drifted back to you. As he imagined holding onto your thighs as he fucked into you from behind. He could clearly make out the curve of your ass.
He felt as if he wasn’t controlling himself as his hands moved to his now fully hard dick. He didn’t mean to jerk himself off to dirty thoughts of you, his brand new, younger neighbor, but you looked so fucking sexy. His hand wrapped around his cock tighter as he remembered the outline of your tits that he could make out from across the street.
He could feel himself getting closer and closer to release as he tried to imagine the noises you would make for him. All the times you said his name replayed in his name and he tried to imagine you moaning it, whining it, grunting it, screaming it. He could’ve sworn he could smell your lavender perfume as he came. He opened his eyes as he finished stroking himself through his orgasm. He watched as the water washed away the cum that had landed on his hand and stomach.
“Fuck,” he said to himself, frustrated with the hold you had on him. Now that he got that out of his system, he couldn’t believe he just came to the thought of you.
 He had been having doubts earlier, wondering how inappropriate, how immoral, how wrong his growing crush was. Being a senior in graduate school, you had to be late 20s, maybe early 30s at the most. Being mid-40s, there was at least a 15-year age gap between the two of you.
He had to shake these thoughts. He quickly lathered himself up, rinsed off, and got out of the shower. He slipped on a pair of boxers and climbed into his bed. He was asleep in less than five minutes.
The next morning, he was woken up by knocks on his door. He had slept for about 11 hours, so he wasn’t mad that his slumber was interrupted. “Coming!” He yelled, shuffling for pants to throw on. Once he got a pair of plaid pajama pants on, he made his way down the hall to the front door.
He didn’t have time to register who it was before he heard your voice, “I’m so sorry to wake you up! I know it’s early but my car won’t start and I have an exam at one and I really need to be on time so I was wondering if maybe you could come look at it?”
Your mouth was moving faster than your brain could keep up with, obviously feeling bad about the whole situation. “Slow down,” Aaron breathed out, trying to get you to relax. His efforts failed as you ran your hand along your hairline and mumbled an “’m sorry”. “I can come, give me just a minute.” He stepped back, opening the door further for you to step inside to wait.
Your eyes widened at his silent invitation. You followed him through the door, awkwardly standing by the front door. You could tell from your spot in the entryway that the layout of his house mirrored yours. He was currently on his way down the hall to the master bedroom. To get a shirt, you presumed.
You definitely noticed the lack of clothing on his part. It was clear you’d disturbed him, and while you felt bad about that, you were ridiculously grateful. His morning voice, low-rise pajama pants, and hairy chest will be pressed into your memory, ready to be used when you needed some help finishing yourself off.
He appeared again quickly, fully clothed with socks and slides on his feet. He opened the front door, gesturing for you to go through. He followed you across the street to your driveway, where your very old sedan sat. “Can I have the key?” You nodded, retrieving the key from your pocket and pressing it into Aaron’s large hand.
As Aaron went to start the car, it was hard for him not to realize that this was the dream life he had conjured up for you when you first showed up on his porch. Here he was, being the manly man, helping you with your car. He tried turning it on and the sound of the engine sputtering made you want to cry. Without words, Aaron walked around to pop the hood, analyzing what was going on. He was quiet as he looked, and you wouldn’t dare interrupt it. “I think it’s the spark plugs. I have the stuff in my garage.” He said after a few minutes.
You nodded along to his words, trying to convince him that you knew exactly what he was talking about. As he began to make his way back across the street, you couldn’t help yourself from apologizing again. “Thank you, Aaron. I’m really sorry.” He was quick to turn back around to face you. With a hefty shake of his head, he spoke, “Please stop apologizing, this is what I’m here for.” He smiled at you, before returning to his journey to the garage.
If you were growing a crush on him before, it was full-fledged now. You needed to do something about this before your heart exploded at his actions and you soaked through your underwear at his words.
He returned after a few minutes, carrying a toolbox. You couldn’t do anything but stare as he worked on the car. He didn’t say much, focused on doing this right for you. Every once in a while he would attempt to explain what he was doing, but you were too distracted by the way the muscles in his arm contorted as he worked.
“That should do it,” He said as he made his way back into the driver’s seat. Sure enough, after a few turns of the key, the car sputtered to life. “Oh my god, thank you!” You spoke as he stepped up from the seat, throwing your arms around his neck. “You’re a lifesaver!” You squealed. Aaron’s hands awkwardly found their way around your waist, surprised at the sudden contact. Surprised, but very intrigued.
When you pulled away, Aaron felt cold. “Not a problem, Y/N.” He said as he wiped the grim off of his hands. “Why don’t you give me your number so next time you don’t have to walk all the way over?” The way he asked was so casual. He was so calm as your heartbeat increased with every word. Your number? Next time?
“Yeah! Sure!” You were afraid your voice sounded too excited, blowing your cover. Aaron picked up on it but didn’t mention it. You two quickly exchanged numbers, and he excused himself, stating he needed to pick up Jack. “Seriously, Aaron. Thank you.” You emphasized, grabbing his hand and pulling him forward. You were being bold. You pressed a gentle kiss against his cheek. He turned away before you could see the pink blush spread across his cheeks. “Anytime.” He said, starting to walk away.
You spent the next couple of hours cramming for your exam and trying to repress any thoughts of Aaron Hotchner that your brain was attempting to conjure up. It was working, your focus on passing this exam. However, on your drive to campus, your phone dinged. Your car showed you a message from ‘Aaron (neighbor)’. You were giddy the rest of the way, not wanting to open while you were driving.
When you parked, you opened your phone to a simple text: “Good luck on your exam! You got this.” You walked into class with a smile, and you were pretty sure you aced the exam. 
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You were surprised at the amount of time you and Aaron spent texting. It was definitely an assumption you had made based solely on his age, but you did not expect him to want to text. However, he appeared to be better than men your age at it. Quick replies, letting you know when he’d be unavailable, and absolutely never leaving on you read. Sometimes you had to explain emojis or slang to him, but you found it adorable.
You had learned that he works for the FBI in a unit that catches things like serial killers, rapists, and kidnappers. He was away on a case right now, somewhere in California. He had learned that you had a very old dog, but other than that, it was just you in the house.
There were times when the conversation felt a bit flirty. Teasing jokes thrown around, compliments to each other. Part of you was starting to think he may reciprocate your feelings, but the other part was starting to think you were delusional. There was no way he could ever like you back.
Until he did.
Elise and a few of your other friends had dragged to a bar downtown. One you had never been to. Like normal, you and Aaron were in the middle of a text conversation while you were sitting at the bar. You had been up and dancing, having fun with your friends, but you couldn’t stay away from your phone long enough to enjoy your time.
Elise was picking up on this. After a few rounds of shots, she was getting aggravated. She couldn’t comprehend how you were managing an intelligent conversation with him, but she knew she had to get you away from it. She kept telling herself it was for your own good, not wanting to feel guilty about the atrocities she was about to commit.
However, it was going to be so much worse than either of you had anticipated.
Elise slithered her way in between you and the person sitting on the barstool next to you. The older lady on your right was definitely agitated with her actions, but Elise did not care. She saw the white screen of your text messages and long contact name and knew who you were texting. Even in her drunken state, she could recall all of the screenshots you had been sending her from your conversations with Aaron.
“Give it here,” Elise slurred, reaching for your phone. It was still unlocked as she held it in her tight grasp. “You’re texting your hot middle-aged neighbor. Come shake some ass with us and find a guy your own age.” Her words were a little bit harsher than she intended. “Elise, stop. I’m enjoying texting my hot middle-aged neighbor and do not want to find a guy my own age” You demanded with your own drunken slur, reaching for the phone. “Uh-uh,” Elise shook her head, locking the phone and tucking into the cup of her bra, out of your reach for the rest of your night.
Only because you were forced to, you eventually did get up and dance with your friends. Just your friends, no men at all.
Elise only returned your phone at the very end of the night, when you needed to order an Uber home. Your head was starting to spin from all the alcohol, so that was all you did. After the order was placed, you gripped your phone as a way to keep the world from twirling underneath. The Uber arrived, too slow for your liking, and you were home. You immediately made your way towards the couch, ready to pass out.
The loud knocks on your door did nothing to help the pounding headache you had woken up with, and you couldn’t imagine who was knocking. The knocks were powerful and authoritarian. “Hello?” You questioned as you threw open the door. There was clearly attitude behind your greeting. “What did that mean?” Aaron’s voice sounded rushed as he pushed himself inside the door. He was dressed in a suit and acting very different than the Aaron you had known before.
“The message, the last one you sent.” He seemed stressed, running his hand through his hair. Something about the way he looked made him look exhausted. Your eyebrows furrowed, not understanding what he meant. You grabbed your phone from the end table next to your couch and opened your and Aaron’s message thread. Your eyes widened at the voice message marked as “read: 1:32 AM”.
“I-I don’t know,” you stuttered out, afraid to meet his eye, “What did it say?” Aaron took a step away from you. “It was Ms. Landon, uh, your friend from the game,” He sounded nervous as he spoke, “You should just listen to it.” You nodded, checking the volume on your phone and then listening to the message
It was right after Elise had grabbed your phone when she was berating you for being on your phone the whole time. When she mentioned your hot middle-aged neighbor and you replied, also calling him your hot middle-aged neighbor. And saying you did not want to find a guy your age because of him.
“Aaron, I am so sorry-” You started, wanting to apologize for your and your friend’s actions and blame the whole thing on being intoxicated, but he cut you off. “Forgive me for barging in here like this, Y/N, but I need to know why you were ignoring your friends to text me.” He finally locked eyes with you, and the eye bags under his eyes were the first thing you noticed.
There was a beat of silence, until he continued, “Y/N, I have enjoyed the sparse moments we have shared together. And I may be reading this wrong, I may just be incredibly sleep-deprived, but I think you have as well. I understand that I am older than you, but I would like to continue to have these moments with you. I would like to see what else we can do together.” 
Your heart started to beat at his confession. You nodded at his words, rendered speechless for the first time in your life. You couldn’t stop yourself as your legs moved forward, reaching for his face and pulling him into a kiss.
There was very little hesitation as Aaron’s hands slipped around your waist, pulling you closer. You didn’t know he’d been waiting to do this since you met, but you were going to find out soon. His hands gripped you tighter as he deepened the kiss, moving his tongue into your mouth. He was very skillful in the way he held you and the way he kissed you.
You didn’t separate until you needed air. If it wasn’t for the fact that you needed air to live, you could’ve stayed wrapped up with him forever. Your forehead was pressed to his as you whispered, “Are we gonna talk about this?” He knew that you were talking about where you were supposed to go from here. Is it gonna be a relationship? Are you going to be exclusive? How would it work with him being away so much? What would your role in Jack’s life be?
Aaron decided all of these questions would remain unanswered as he said, “Later, we got things to do right now..” He pulled you tight against him, roughly pressing his lips to yours again.
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dashofghost · 2 months
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CASUAL
or, Aaron Hotchner's size kink. minors dni.
➼ Aaron Hotchner who lines his cock up against your stomach just to see how far it'll go and moans shamelessly. His thumb works mindless circles on the place where he was as you bury your head is his neck while he murmurs "I know you can take it, sweetheart."
➼ Aaron Hotchner whose hands are so big when he cups your pussy and it only makes you leak all over it. You can grind against his palm while his thumb rubs your clit and he's everywhere. He licks your slick off his palm and his eyes roll back in his head.
➼ Aaron Hotchner who wears grey sweatpants around your house and isn't surprised when he's grinding against your hand in the kitchen thirty minutes later. Watching your hand disappear under his sweatpants and boxers is erotic enough, but when you pull him out and your hand covers so little of his cock? He has to grab the cabinet behind him so hard his knuckles turn white.
➼ Aaron Hotchner who hates how turned on he is when the first time you have sex, you whine "Aaron, it's not gonna fit." He soothes you, propping your hips up on a pillow and spreading your legs. You take him inch by inch, scratching up his back and he fucking loves it. When he bottoms out, he can barely breathe: you're so tight around him and your walls are pulsing and he moans drunkly as he realizes.
➼ Aaron Hotchner who watches with heavy-lidded eyes as you cum all over his cock before he can even get to fucking you. He can't tare his eyes away from the place where your bodies meet. His thighs start shaking as he tucks a strand of hair behind your head, a soft murmur of "you all right, angel?" leaving his lips.
➼ Aaron Hotchner who makes you cum again after just ten strokes. He's pretty sure you've scratched his back to bloody ribbons and he realizes with a shiver that he likes the sting. He can't stop himself this time: he cums, pulling you close to his chest, reveling in the warmth. He watches his own cum leak out of you, your body unable to take both his cock and cum at the same time. His eyes flutter shut as he pulls out, whole body singing in overstimulation.
➼ Aaron Hotchner who wraps his arms around you in the shower, his hands swallowing your thighs as he washes them and he wouldn't have it any other way.
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mcondance · 1 month
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i won’t even lie, i’d be the office 🐱 idc. reid, hotch, and morgan could take alllllll of that stress out on me idccccc
-🐯
MDNI; reader’s outfit is referred to as “distracting” | no morgan included cause i don’t wanna fuck him oops | reader can be fucked against a wall
hotch comes in fuming. locks eyes with you and all it takes is him yanking at his tie and a nod towards the room where it always happens.
or, spencer’s irritated and frustrated cause he can’t figure the case out. wracking his brain for any piece of knowledge that could help him. he’s tired and aggravated, and as he leans back in his chair, taking in the office, there you are. pants tight enough to distract even wonder boy, and shirt clinging to your gracious body.
hotch beckons you into a back room, somewhere far away from the blood and carnage that has driven him into your arms, in between your legs and inside you while you sit on a forgotten desk, spread for him to fuel his frustration into something. something good.
you cry and you whine and you sob, and it hurts but it feels just how you need it to, hotch gives it to you just how you like it. the sounds you give him are confused, don’t know whether they want to be sobs of pain or cries of pleasure and at this point, who gives a damn.
you use his first name, unusual and reserved, choking out “aa-” and just barely reaching the rest because he’s reached that spot inside you, and if he can’t solve the case, then he damn sure can make you feel good and make himself feel good too.
spencer’s an office fuck. he needs you on top of him, thighs wet and braced on either side of his legs, chair backed up against the wall so it doesn’t buckle under the force of you and spencer’s ruts and grinds and fucks.
you fuck the frustration out of him, have him choked up and slipping on his words like only you can. head thrown back with you speaking praises and promises in his ear, he’s grateful to have you around whenever he needs to blow off some steam. or, when he needs you to blow it off for him.
he’s cried, let his anger roll down his red face and drop down onto his button-up. other times, when he feels like everyone has everything together except him, he handles you differently.
still frustrated, he’s got you pinned against the wall before you can speak his name. he’s desperate and upset, and he fucks like it. ruts into you and screws you like he’s not the skinniest guy you’ve ever seen.
“stress relief” is what they call you. they’ve got too much love and admiration for you to call you anything else.
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rainydayathogwarts · 6 days
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Skin on Skin - Aaron Hotch
Summary: You forget about the hickeys on your neck and when your boss finds out, he's not happy about it. Warnings: Smut, jealous!Hotch, degrading (slightly), semi public sex (they're in an empty office). I think this is the single dirtiest fic I have ever written. Enjoy! wc: 3.2k
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It was the hot days in July where you were forced to come into the office that took away your will to live. You'd rolled out of the mysterious man you'd slept with the night before's bed, driving home early so you'd have time to shower and change before coming into work. Deciding on opting out of wearing any makeup other than a little mascara, you changed into trousers and a cotton tank top, shoving a field-appropriate top into your bag just in case. You were already dreading the inevitable hair-sticking-to-your-neck type of heat so much that you forgot about the hickeys littering your neck, the hair tie on your wrist an enemy in disguise, waiting to launch its attack.
When you finally entered the bullpen nearly an hour later, you observed your teammates' attire. Emily had done something similar to you, her blouse hanging from the back of her chair, JJ wearing a thin but figure hugging t-shirt. Derek was sporting a loose, plain t-shirt, while Spencer decided to forego his usual sweater vest, his shirt rolled up to his elbows. Of course, you already assumed that Penny was wearing a sun dress without having to see her.
Placing your iced coffee onto your desk, you busied yourself with finding the paper work you had to finish in your desk drawers. "I should have worn a dress." You complain almost immediately, looking up to the sound of rolling wheels from someone's chair. "I agree. You'd send the big boss into a coma if you did, and we'd all be able to go home." Derek retorts almost immediately, to which you scoff. You never told anyone about your crush on Hotch, but you wouldn't deny it to a room of profilers, so they resorted to teasing. "Ignore Hotch, I'd go into a coma if you wore a dress." Emily adds. You grin, looking up at your best friend from your papers.
You huff, already feeling the sweat on your hairline. Your hands busy themselves with gathering your hair at the back of your head, fishing for the hair tie on your wrist when you see your coworkers' faces. "What?" You look behind you, fully expecting a scene in the kitchen based on their slacked jaws and wide eyes, but there's nothing there. Furrowing your eyebrows, you repeat "What?" Derek starts laughing, and Emily brings a hand up to her face, biting at her thumb nail to hide her smile. You let go of your hair as Spencer and JJ turn to observe the scene, which is you apparently, tilting your head quizzically as you tried to recall what you did this morning.
This morning. You rolled out of the unknown man's bed. The man who you'd slept with last night. You audibly gasped, a hand coming up to cover your mouth. You dove down to look through your bag, fetching your pocket-mirror. "Wow Y/N. Such a busy woman that you forgot you slept with someone." Two things happened as Emily spoke these words: Hotch opened the door to his office, hearing every single syllable that came out of her mouth, and you opened your compact mirror, eyes widening at the number and colour of the hickeys on your neck. A trail of three dark red hickeys painted your neck, and you hadn't even thought about covering them before you left your apartment.
Hotch frowned when he heard the words, almost flinching at the thought of you sleeping around. 'Such a busy woman that you forgot you slept with someone'. Did you sleep around? Is that what Emily meant or was she making a joke? Hotch saw you stand quickly, your hips hitting the wood of your desk and his pupils dilated at the sight, his tongue poking out to wet his lips slightly. "I'll be right back!" You yelped, turning to the direction of the bathroom, Emily immediately standing to follow you.
As you smudged concealer on your neck, you silently thanked whatever higher power was out there that you'd had a makeup pouch in your bag, or you'd be totally fucked. Like, way more than you were now. The door was thrown open by Emily, a massive grin on her face. "You got laid! Was it good? Who was it? Why didn't you tell me!" Your eyes fleeted towards her, and you chuckled quietly. "Yes I got laid, it was good - regular good, guy I met at the grocery store. Devon? David? Doesn't matter. I probably would have told you some time today but looks like you beat me to it."
"Oh. Well if it makes you feel better, I think Hotch looked pretty jealous." You spin towards her, your beauty blender in one hand. "What!? He heard!?" You groaned, throwing you head back. Scratch what you said earlier, Emily was the only person you'd confessed your crush to. You sighed. Well now you probably would never get the chance to be with him. You and Emily walked back to the bullpen, separating when you went into the kitchen, and she went back to her desk. You stopped abruptly at the sight of the one and only person you'd been speak of.
You only just noticed what he was wearing. He abandoned his usual blazer, probably left in his office, and the sleeves of his white shirt were rolled up to his elbows. Hotch turned around, mug in hand whilst the water was boiling to find you wide eyed and mouth open in shock. The top two buttons on his shirt were undone, his collarbones just barely visible. He nodded his head shortly, but you immediately averted your gaze, unable to maintain eye contact with him. "I-" At the sound of you speaking, Hotch's gaze shot back at you from his mug, putting the kettle down. "I'm sorry about what you had to hear this morning, Sir." Hotch shook his head, returning his stare to his mug. "Don't worry about it L/N. We're all adults." He picked up the kettle again, offering it to you. "Oh no thank you. I just want some water. Normal, cold water."
You stared at his steaming mug in bewilderment and laughed quietly. "That's kind of manic of you, I'm not going to lie." Aaron raised an eyebrow and turned to face you completely. "Right but forgetting you slept with someone isn't." Your eyebrows shot up in surprise at his retort and you felt the blood rush to your face. Aaron let one of his rare smiles pass at his amusement, and took his mug, beginning to walk away. "I'll see you around Y/N".
Hotch's comment had left you absolutely speechless. For the rest of the day you had thought about the smile that graced his face, only for you to see in the office. He'd even joked about the inappropriate comment Emily had made. It was only when JJ had left, and both Emily and Derek were beginning to pack their things up that you glanced up to where Hotch's office was. The blinds were closed, but you imagined he sat at his desk, vigorously writing reports, whilst occasionally throwing his head back and shutting his eyes in exhaustion.
"Now's your time to make a move lover-girl." Emily's breath hit your neck at she whispered and you jumped, looking back to where she stood just over your shoulder. "You scared me!" She didn't say anything else, but winked at you before speeding up to catch up with Derek so she wouldn't have to wait for the elevator alone. Maybe you shouldn't have told her about the encounter in the kitchen, but you decided that she was right. Maybe you wouldn't make a move, but speaking to Hotch would already be a step forward.
You stood up, wiping your hands on your trousers, attempting to ignore Spencer's unforgiving stare. You weren't holding any papers or folders. That was a big tell for Spencer, who knew more than anyone the liking you had taken to your boss, having to endure several car rides with the two of you alone, sitting in the back seat while you spoke. Walking up to Hotch's office, you took a deep breath - last chance to turn back around. But Spencer was watching, and nothing would be more obvious than if you just turned around and sat back at your desk; the walk of shame.
You knocked twice, waiting for an answer. "Come in!" You peeked your head through the gap of the door before letting yourself in, smiling at Aaron, who sat at his desk with his fingers interlocked behind his head. You shut the door behind you quietly. When he realised it was you, he sat up straight, his hands coming down to rest on the desk. "Y/N. What do you need?" He scanned you for papers to sign, or a bag slung over your shoulder as a sign that you were leaving; you were empty handed. "Hi. I just wanted to say I'm sorry again about what Emily said. I'm really glad you weren't bothered about it. I'm sorry. Again."
Aaron stood up from his desk, and your eyes followed his figure as he stood. He stepped aside from the desk, walking towards you. "Actually Y/N," he starts, his body looming over you as the distance between you decreased. "I was quite bothered with what I heard from Prentiss." Your breath caught in your throat, a hand crossing over your body to clutch your other arm. "What?" He nodded solemnly. "Mhm. I was quite upset to hear that you were with another man."
"Oh."
Your jaw went slack, and you looked into his eyes for any sign of a lie. You watched as one of Aaron's hands came up to your cheek, softly holding your face. His hand trailed down until it held the side of your face and his thumb caressed almost the exact spot you had covered with concealer earlier that day. "I don't like the idea of other men being with you. Other men having sex with you." Your breathing quickened, and you were almost certain he could feel your pulse beneath his hand. "Then do something about it."
Aaron's second hand went around your waist, and this time much less gently pulled your body towards his. His second hand snaked around the back of your neck and pulled you into a kiss. You moaned in shock, both hands resting on his chest. You returned his kiss immediately, going on your tippy toes to push yourself further into him. Aaron grunted into the kiss, walking forward to press you against the door. His hand came off your neck to lock the door behind you and he broke the kiss, his forehead resting against yours as you caught your breath.
He watched you almost predatorily before moving to press kisses on your neck. Your sweaty neck covered in makeup. "Aaron. Aaron." You spoke, pushing his head away from you. He looked down at you worriedly, now taking a couple of steps back, and putting his hands up in surrender. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make-" "Aaron stop." He looked up at you from the floor, going silent. "I-my neck is covered in hickeys. From-" You watched his face dawn with realisation. He frowned, turning his back to you and your shoulders slumped in disappointment. "Aaron." He walked to his desk, pulling a couple of tissues, soaking them in water from a bottle he kept on his desk. "Aaron." He then turned to face you again. "Take it off. Whatever is covering them. Take it off."
Your gaze switched between the tissues in his hand to his face and you sighed. Men knew so little about makeup. Despite that, you still walked towards him, taking the wet tissues from his hands, rubbing it against your neck, exposing the hickeys that lay underneath the makeup. "Happy- oh!" Your arms wrapped around Aaron's shoulders as he picked you up, placing you on his desk. He returned his lips to yours in an instant, hands gripping your hips. His lips moved to your neck but this time he's sucking the skin on the other side, replicating the hickeys the other man gave you. "Do I remind you of him? Covering your skin in hickeys?" He grunts, his teeth scraping against your skin. You gasp and your leg twitched, wrapping around one of his legs.
Aaron pulled away from you, his lips swollen and hair out of place. "Answer me." He snapped, his eyes glaring into yours. You shook your head quickly. "No! No, I don't even remember him!" You whined, attempting to pull Aaron closer to you. "What a slut. Can't even remember someone you were with 24 hours ago." Your hips buck against Aaron's hands when they come to the front of your trousers, beginning to unbutton them. "Stand up." You blindly follow his orders, used to obeying him. He spins you around so you're facing the desk and gives you a nudge, hard enough for you to fall forward, but gentle enough for your hands to catch you before you hit the desk.
Before you know it, your trousers are being pushed down to the floor, and you hear a rip of fabric. You gasp, the air hitting your now bare pussy. Looking behind you, you spot Aaron pocketing your ripped panties. "Aaron!" You whimper, but that only gets you a slap to the ass. "Be quiet! Do you want everyone to hear just how much of a whore you are, begging your boss to fuck you?" His words only make you moan, but his hand makes contact with your ass again. "I'm sorry." You whimper. "Good girl." His hands trail up from your hips to the skin under your shirt. "Now take these off."
Both your tank top and bra come off and suddenly you're standing completely naked in Aaron Hotchner's office, while he stands completely dressed. There's a moment of silence, then the sound of metal clinking. Your eyes follow as he places his belt on the desk next to you and he mutters "Don't make me use this." before pressing kisses on your neck and shoulder. You see his trousers hit the floor, followed by his boxers and you so badly want to turn around and see what he's packing, but you do nothing.
Aaron's dick slides between your thighs and you gasp, bending over slightly and spreading your legs farther. You hear Aaron chuckle at your desperation and suck in a deep breath, but you're given no warning when he begins to enter you. He goes in inch by inch, giving you time to stop him if you feel discomfort, but you don't. "Are you okay?" He asks once he's fully inside, the hand at your hips caressing your skin softly. "Yes." He nods, and just like that his soft demeanour is gone and he's thrusting into you at an unforgiving pace, his pupils dilated as he stares fixedly at the spot where his dick enters your pussy.
His pace slows so he can grab both your hands from the desk, holding them in one of his hands as the other one pushes you down so your torso lays on the desk, the cold wood hardening your nipples. Aaron's hands let go of yours - a silent command for you to keep them behind your back - and he gathers your hair away from your face. He can see the sweat glinting on your skin, it must be uncomfortable, he thinks, but the truth is that you're so deep in pleasure you can't think of anything else but that and trying to stay quiet. You shut your eyes tightly, biting your lip to keep you from screaming Aaron's name uncontrollably for the whole building to hear.
Quiet moans still escape you, and you imagine the sound of skin on skin must be loud, but none of that bothers you, not when you're having sex with Aaron. You squeeze your legs together, a subconscious sign that you're close to your orgasm. Aaron clearly sees it because he's tapping one of your legs and muttering "Spread them for me baby." You feel like you're just laying there limply, but you manage to do as he says, and you moan his name louder than you should when you feel his hand snake between your legs in search for your clit. He finds your clit quickly and begins rubbing circles on it, and even with you so lost in pleasure, you realise that Aaron's thrusts are becoming sloppy.
He's close to finishing too. Aaron's grunts begin getting louder and the hand on your clit is getting quicker and more desperate. Your pussy clenches against his dick and you hear a "Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck." In response. Aaron's cum is instantly filling you up, and the extra stimulation triggers your release too. You whimper as you come, legs shaking while Aaron begins to slow his movements, the hand on your clit coming to a stop. He stops his movements completely when your eyes open once more and you stop moaning. Instead, he averts his gaze to where his cum is leaking out of you and running down your thighs.
"Shit baby. Let me clean you up." He mimics his earlier movements, getting damp tissues to clean up your thighs before he pulls out of you. "Aaron." You whimper again at the emptiness, hands coming in front of you to push yourself off the desk. "Shh, baby, it's okay. Stay where you are. Let me take care of you." Once Aaron quickly cleans himself up and pulls his boxers up, his whole attention goes to you, crouching down to clean his orgasm off your skin. He even pulls your trousers back your legs, buttoning them up for you before wrapping his arms around your torso, his back against yours. You lay your head on his shoulder and exhale deeply, moving your neck to the side so Aaron can press kisses there.
"Are you okay?" He asks pulling away from you completely so he can observe your face. "I'm more than okay Aaron. Thank you for- for all that." He presses a kiss to your cheek before pulling away to get the rest of your clothes. "Let me take you to dinner." "Now?" He hums yes and you smile, watching as he puts his belt on. "I'd love that. But Spencer-" "Oh forget Spence," He insists "I'm pretty sure the entire building knows." You smile, fingers looping in his belt hoops to pull him closer to you. You kiss him softly and smile. "Right, well let me go to the bathroom and I'll meet you in the lobby?" Aaron nods, so you turn around, exiting his office with a smile on your face.
At your desk, you grab your bag and look up to meet Spencer's eyes. Your face falls at the look on his. He looks partly traumatised, partly smug. "Well how did it go then?" You feel the blood rushing to your face again and you nod "It went well. Yeah, pretty good." But you run off before he gets to reply, dialling a familiar number on your phone.
"Emily you'll never guess what just happened."
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boldlyvoid · 6 months
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Sleeping Arrangements
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Aaron Hotchner x fem reader
summary: the hardest part about being pregnant is trying to find a way to be comfortable and as always, Aaron knows how to help
warnings: nausea, crying, pregnancy, mentions of hotch's scars,
word count: 1k
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Doctors recommend that while pregnant a person should lie on their left side to promote blood flow for the baby. An added bonus is how it helps with nausea, which she definitely needed help with, in the early months. The only downside to this is that on her side of the bed, sleeping facing the left side means Aaron is behind her. 
He snuggles into her back, spooning her, while they fall asleep. Hand on her stomach, he guards it with his life, and a few kisses to her shoulder blades. However, once he falls asleep (and he’s done this as long as she’s known him) he flips onto his back, legs spread and left arm above his head, oftentimes resting over his eyes. 
When they started sharing a bed, she loved it because she could snuggle into his side, toss her leg over his to intertwine them and hold him around his middle. She loved to put her head on his chest, forehead against his jaw and hold him tight all night long. Hearing his heartbeat, feeling his breathing and how warm he is long after the blankets have pooled around his waist. And he smells so good. Be it from his leftover cologne and deodorant, his body wash from his nightly showers or… just his body odour after working up a sweat before bed. 
He usually sleeps with a shirt on, hiding the scars he got long before he met her from the innocent eyes of his son. Jack hardly ever wandered into their room at night, older and more mature now, he’s not a little boy with nightmares who needs a cuddle anymore. But he still wears his shirt to bed when Jack is home. 
Tonight he’s at a friend's house which resulted in them both falling asleep completely naked after the night's activities. Only now Aaron is lying on his back, and she’s facing the left side all alone and fighting back tears. She misses her cuddles with her man. The makeshift husband she’s made out of pillows can only comfort her so much and she hates the idea that she still has 3 months of this torture.
The tears start to fall the more uncomfortable she gets. Pregnant and emotional, tired and nauseous, it’s so easy for her to break down. So she sobs, crying hard enough for the bed to tremble, it wakes Aaron up. 
“Hey, hey what’s going on?” He’s quick to turn to her. He rubs the sleep from his face and hovers over her, “Baby, what’s wrong?” 
She can’t seem to get a breath in, sobbing she slams her hand against her pillows and tosses it off the bed. 
He starts to shush her, making her roll onto her back, he’s leaning on his one forearm and wipes her hair off her face with the other. “Breathe baby, I’m right here. It’s okay. You’re okay.” 
He traces his finger from her temple to her jaw, “in and out. There you go, breathe.” 
She lets out a wobbling breath, “You’re not.”
“I’m gonna need more words than that sweetheart, what’s wrong?” 
“You’re all the way over there,” she cries. “I can’t cuddle into you anymore. I miss being tucked into your chest and feeling you breathe all night and the way you smell and how you twitch and the cute noises you make when you’re deep, deep in sleep. I miss how you’d unconsciously rub your jaw against my forehead and sometimes your stubble would scratch me. And-and—“
He shushes her again, leans in and steals a kiss and then pulls away completely. He gets up from the bed and she sits up in a panic, “where are you—“ 
“Scoot over,” he instructs, walking around the bed to her side. He tosses her other makeshift husband's pillows to the floor and crawls into her side of the bed. “Here,” he says, pulling the sheets back up and laying in his usual position just backwards. Right arm raised, legs spread, he waits for her to settle in against him. 
“You don’t mind switching?” She asks, unable to process that it’s so easy for him. 
“For 8 years before I met you I was sleeping completely alone in the middle of the mattress, I only sleep on my side now because that first night I slept over, you already had your side picked out,” he shares. “I don’t care where I sleep as long as it’s with you.” 
She’s quick to snuggle into him, her leg tossed over his and arm around his middle. Her belly sits perfectly above his hip in the curve of his waist. She rests her head on his chest and he kisses her forehead before rubbing his jaw against her. Her other arm goes under the pillow so it doesn’t fall asleep while she’s in this position and she lets out the deepest, most content sigh he’s ever heard leave her body. 
“Better?” He asks, placing his free hand over her arm, he caresses her skin with his thumb. 
She nods, “perfect. All I need now is for the baby to go back to sleep.”
“What?”
“Do you not feel her?” She asks, pressing her stomach against him more now, he feels the light poking against his side as their daughter kicks away. “All my crying woke her up.”
“Oh, wow,” he breathes out. Astounded by the miracle of life, “What’s that like from inside?” 
“Strange but comforting,” she explains, overtired and fading quickly. She presses her face against him more when she sleeps, all her weight landing on him as she drifts off. “I love you,” she adds for good measure before she’s out cold. 
“Love you, sweetheart,” he whispers. He kisses her head one last time and closes his eyes too. 
Taking it all in, he’s missed this feeling too. He loved the way they slept together. They fit like puzzle pieces, meant to always be together. His heartbeat and hers were so in tune with each other after years of sleeping Iike this, he didn’t realize how terrible he’d been sleeping until she was back on him and everything felt right in the world again. 
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General Taglist 
@ncsls0515 @stevesmunsons @reidsbookclub @sweetyyhippyy @manuosorioh @mrs-dr-reid @k-k0129 @squishyturtle @katsukis1wife @buckleyhans @mrs-ssa-hotch
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hotchfiles · 26 days
Text
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ❝ [COME UNBOUND HERE] ❞ — NSFW ; MDNI!
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pairing: hotch x fem!bau!reader. summary: “completely self-reliant, you really don’t need me at all, do you?” in which hotch gets completely pussy whipped after seeing you taking down an unsub. content warnings: making out, foul language, sex, unprotected p in v with no mentions of birth control (no breeding kink just lazy writing), sub!hotch if you squint, switch!reader, nipple play, scratching, lip biting, THEY FUCK ALRIGHT. MDNI, this is a 18+ fic. word count: 1.7k a/n: requested by @mischiefmoons and her godsent filthy mind. i donnnt prooof read shiiiit.
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aaron wasn’t one to admit to having a type, sure, he knows it’s human nature to look for similar traits when choosing partners throughout life, but he was a romantic at heart  (and a sweet talker at that!), he secretly enjoyed keeping the magic of just love alive, and more than that, he simply adored the way you would roll your eyes and laugh cruelly at him, your palm hitting his arm in a light slap each time he told you his type is you. 
truthfully though, most of that was all talk from his sweet soft spot for you, everyone knew exactly his type. 
he couldn’t help but fall for confidence, every time someone confident and beautiful laughed at his terrible dry jokes he would feel his lungs tighten up, that was definitely one of the first things that made him so drawn to you, the fact you were so funny and incredibly gorgeous resulting in his everlasting love and downright depraved lust for you. 
today though, aaron found out another trait of his ideal type: could easily overpower an unsub before himself could even get to his ankle holster for his gun, before he could even try to protect you. 
your competence was never a question, an ssa like the rest of the team, twice a year having no problem at all in your evaluations. but you were a liaison, you stayed put unless extremely necessary to have the whole team out, your experience level wasn’t the same. 
he did all he could to have your back, even before you started sharing hotel room beds, but hearing the man in front of him whine in pain after you twisted his arm, the sound of at least one of fingers cracking at your strength as you pushed him to the floor… you definitely didn’t need him to have your back, you did it yourself pretty well. 
he’s surely proud, but what floods his mind really, what is now burnt to his brain, what has probably changed his whole body chemistry at his point is the way your body moved to do it, your pants clinging more to your thighs, your breasts moving with your fast heart rate, your open cleavage blouse doing nothing to help his train of thought, nor did the hint of a grin in your lips as the unsub succumbed to your grip, complaining about the pain you were so easily causing. 
focus on the job, focus on the case, he tried hard to while he passed his handcuffs to you, but fuck, how could he when you looked so unbelievebly sexy doing something he has seen so many people do before?
how many times has he licked his lips in the past 20 minutes? he has lost count, but is the only way he has to ignore the way his mouth is drying at how aroused he was about to be if he didn’t control himself. if he didn’t focus on anything else. 
a few meditating breaths and unpleasant thoughts did the work for him, getting his priority back on track: the case was still going as far as he was concerned. it wasn’t done until the bau got back to the hotel. 
his avoidance to you at the precinct, not even catching him glancing as you worked didn’t strike you as odd, you were used to him needing his space and completely unaware of his conscious effort not to think of you. 
it’s a happy surprise when you hear his well known knock on your door not even half an hour after arriving at the hotel, his lips gluing to yours immediately, his hands strong in their hold of your face as he kicks the door closed.
you grin into the kiss, not at all opposed to how famished he seems for you, even though you don’t understand where it came from you more than willingly follow his lead, reaching for his waist under his clothing. the cold of your fingers causes him to whine and you can’t help but take advantage of that to sink your teeth to his lower lip just the way you knew he liked it. 
aaron guides you to the bed, but unlike many times before where he would lay you down, his weight deliciously on top of you, he sits on the edge, the back of his knees touching the mattress, shoes kicked off just before. he pulls you to straddle him, his lips only leaving yours to touch the skin you had exposed: your neck, your cleavage. his hands making sure to sink you harsher on this lap anytime you stopped moving against him even if for a second, his fingers sinking on the flash of your hips. 
you have to ask, you have to know what’s gotten into him (so you might do it more in the future) and he stops his actions to stare at you, eyes dazed with lust, lips swollen from the way your mouth worked his, cheeks flushed pink like it always got when he was hot.
“do you not have any idea of how… alluring you looked today doing all that?” he’s breathless as he speaks, his tongue is back to your neck before you can reply or tease his choice of words. your head falls lightly behind as you try to contain at least some of your whimpers. hotch does no such effort, lucky his mouth is busy as you wet both of your pants with arousal, the feeling of his cock swelling up under you as addictive as ever. 
you pull him closer by his tie, your mouth brushing against his ear before you spoke just so you could feel the way your warm breath made him shiver. 
“all that what?” he doesn’t respond, busy taking your blouse along with your bra off, his sheer force able to break off the clasp without much effort. you force your body onto him, half for the so needed friction your nipples begged for, but mostly to get him to lay down on the bed. “all that what?” you repeat yourself, needing to hear him say it. your hands strongly keeping his on your waist and not an inch up. the sight of your bare tits alone enough to make him try to get more friction from you, unconsciously rutting up. 
“confidently taking a man down with your bare hands, maybe?” aaron’s reply pleases you and you let go of his hands, helping him take his dress shirt, his tie and the annoying white tank top keeping you away from scratching his stomach, “completely self-reliant, you really don’t need me at all, do you?” he says teasingly just as you gasp to the touch of his calloused fingers to your nipples, working both at the same time. 
you could honestly come just from that (and you have before, noticing how sensitive your nipples are has been a gift to him that kept on giving), but you wanted more. you palm him through his slacks, wet from his precum and your own fluids. “wouldn’t say that, i do need you to help me with these,” you point to the bothersome remnants of clothes in the way and he has the audacity to chuckle, as if he wasn’t as desperate as you. “because as soon as we are free of them, i can ride you the way you’re just begging me to.” aaron can’t keep his groans contained, your crude words going straight to his dick in a way only you were able to. it was a mess of fingers unbuttoning, unzipping and hands quickly working to get rid of the slacks and underwear restricting you both. 
he helps lining his cock to your entrance, but not before teasing pressing his tip to your clit, causing you both to moan, you’re as wet as you always are for him, sinking him into you all at once and the whimper leaving aaron’s mouth is just sinful, completely at your mercy. 
you set the pace and he lets you, one hand on your thigh, the other gripping one of your tits in a way he would leave not just marks, but a whole handprint. you loved it, your nails giving his chest crescent moon shaped marks and scratches all around his torso. 
“aaron–ple–put your fingers to work.” you skip the begging, the please, knowing that’s not what he wants today, you’re busy moaning his name as your pace goes to a faster rhythm to say much else, but he obeys, deliciously using one of his thumbs to draw circles over your clit, following your lead, moaning as you clenched around his dick, your wetness loud against his finger and his pelvis. 
you were about to come, the imminence of your orgasm making your toes curl, “fuck me, aaron, hard… and fast.” you manage to say, not wanting to slow down and knowing you wouldn’t be able to keep up. 
it’s like he’s been waiting for it, for your orders, and he turns you around, his weight over you as he follows your words. hard and fast. his own pleasure building up as you helped him prop on your legs up on his shoulder, you felt like you were melting under him, going between grabbing the sheets and his flesh as you squirmed for him. 
the noises are relentless at this point, and if the walls of the hotel are cheap everyone will be able to hear his name leaving your lips like a prayer, his whimpers getting stuck in his throat and the skin to skin slapping as aaron brought you both to orgasm, his cum going inside of you without a question, his forehead touching yours as he drops your leg and fucks deep and slow into you a few more times so you both enjoy the climax as long as possible. 
“fuck, i definitely need you for these as well.” your tone is full of tease, referring to the orgasms he gave you seemingly effortlessly. 
aaron hums, his eyes already closed the minute his body reaches the bed, pulling you to his chest. “then, i shall pretend you like me for more than my body and sleep here tonight.” he’s joking and would sleep cuddling you either way, so you don’t bother replying. 
but god, you love him. you love him. 
631 notes · View notes
confused-pyramid · 8 days
Text
I’d Like to Think That You Would Stick Around | s6
pairing: aaron hotchner x childhood bsf!reader
summary: Hotch and his childhood best friend working together at the BAU: a slow burn across the seasons.
word count: 15.5k
warnings: SMUT, oral (m!receiving), masturbation, canon!typical violence, mentions of abuse, mentions of death, guns, drinking, angst, specific episodes mentioned in this part are 6x06, 6x08, 6x17, and 6x18.
a/n: Sorry for the long wait guys, school has been kicking my ass, but here's the next part! We're getting a lot of angst this chapter, but we're so so close to the good times ;) Hope you enjoy! Title is from Love Song by Lana Del Rey
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Fuck.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
You are talking to Prentiss across the bullpen, laughing about something he can't hear, and he's freaking out. He shouldn't have left that night. He knows that. He just didn't know what else to do.
Never mind the fact that he has no idea how much you remember.
When you bumped into him on the way out of the elevator this morning, he swears you jumped back, but then you smiled at him, and he was able to convince himself that it was all fine. So why does it still feel like you are avoiding him?
He can still picture the dark expanse of your pupils as you leaned in closer after stumbling into him; he can still feel the rush of your breath as your gaze met his and his fingers tightened on your hip.
He walks into his office, before sitting at his desk and dropping his head into his hands. His blinds are just shut enough that no one from down in the bullpen can see into his office, and he welcomes the privacy as he rubs a hand over his face and forces his eyes away from the photograph of the two of you on his desk.
'Aaron...'
Your voice had sounded so soft, so hurt-
He shuts his eyes again and tries to think about anything else (maybe even the paperwork he's supposed to have been doing for an hour now) but every time he blinks, he sees your face again.
He has suspected the shift in your feelings for a little while now, but that night at the bar confirmed something he isn't sure he's ready to handle. He feels it too - of course he does - but he can't think about it. He can't.
He's floundering with Jack, with trying to be there for both him and the team, and he just lost Haley. God, he just lost Haley, and the idea of losing you too because he fucks it up just like he did with her is unimaginable. They were together for decades - they had a child together - and still he couldn't give her what she needed. Your friendship means everything to him, and if he does something to ruin your relationship too, he wouldn't be able to live with himself.
He glances out his window and sees you still talking to Emily, both of your heads now bent down to look at an open case file. She says something to you, and your face lights up as you grin at her. Something that feels like lava pools in his gut and he swallows thickly as he turns back to his paperwork.
***
You head back to your desk and drop the case file down as you resist the urge to glance up at his office window. He hasn't looked at you once today, and you can't help it as your mind goes to the worst case scenario of losing him forever because of one stupid moment.
You had considered pretending that you don't remember anything from the bar, but he just left you there. That isn't something you can forget so easily, and even as you're trying to ignore it, you don't want to avoid him. But it isn't that simple.
You're simultaneously hurt and embarrassed, but it isn't even your own feelings that are at the forefront of your mind. You haven't been to his place in over a week, and you miss Jack and you miss him. You haven't gone this long without talking to him in years. 
Fuck.
***
Your quest to stay out of trouble results in you staying late at the office to get ahead on all of your work. Most nights you were staying even later than JJ and Aaron, but then JJ got sent to the DoD as a media liaison, and the work started piling up.
You did what you could to intercept some of the paperwork before it landed on his desk, especially since Jack was so close to starting preschool and you know Aaron wants to take any extra moment of face time he can get, but it wasn't a foolproof system.
That's why it's almost midnight after getting back from a case in Ohio, and Aaron's office light is still on. Knowing it's about time you broke the cone of silence you've been under, you walk up the stairs, giving yourself ample time to change your mind.
A minute later, you knock on his door, before pushing it open gently, waiting to see the look on his face.
"Oh, you're still here," he says, his eyes lingering on you for an extra moment before turning back to his work. "Come in."
You shut the door behind you and sit in the chair in front of his desk. It doesn't sink like it usually does, and it takes you a second to realize that he finally replaced it. After all this time...
"Are you heading home soon?" you ask, trying to feign nonchalance. You can't remember the last time you overthought every single thing you said to him.
Yes, you do, your brain mocks you. A film reel of your awkward senior year of high school starts playing in your mind and one lone thought sticks out among the cacophony of memories. You loved him.
"Yeah, I'm almost done," he says with a sigh, his eyes still trained on his paper.
You frown. "Really?"
"No."
That surprises a chuckle out of you and you lean forward in the chair. It's stiffer than you're used to, and it creaks as you slide in closer. "Want any help?"
He shakes his head. "You should head home. It's late."
You don't say anything and when he finally meets your eye, you shoot him a look.
He sighs, begrudgingly handing you a stack of files. "With JJ gone, it's been a little hectic. I have to go through the new cases coming in, as well as completing the post-case paperwork."
"Shit," you whisper, not knowing what else to say. Even as you tried to cut down his workload, it wasn't even scratching the surface. "I didn't realize that was all on you."
"Yeah, for the time being," he shrugs, raking a hand through his hair to push it back, even as it bounces right back into place. "But it'll be easier when they bring us someone new."
That stops you in your tracks. "How new? Because you know I really liked Jordan, but she was too green for the BAU."
"Newer," he says, his voice tinged with amusement. "They're considering some Academy cadets who are finishing up their remedial training."
"Cadets?" you echo, your voice rising an octave. "They're babies."
"They're at least 25," he states, the corner of his lip twitching. "Besides, their remedial training would have been with the BAU, so they'll know what they're getting into."
They'll know what they're getting into.
It's not a dig, but the juvenile corner of your brain hangs onto his words, trying to make out some double meaning.
"That's some relief, I guess." You flip open the first file, trying to pay attention as you scan the brief, but it just reminds you of how much you miss JJ.
"She was so much better at this," you groan, flipping the page. "I'm not sure anyone can replace her."
"I'm definitely sure that no one can," Aaron says simply as he glances up at you, "but we'll take any help we can get at this point."
There's a layer of subtext behind his tone, and you don't know if you're equipped to decipher it right now, after being up for almost 24 hours. Nevertheless, you don't give in as he looks at you, refusing to break eye contact. 
Please be okay, your mind begs as the corners of his eyes crinkle. Please say I didn't fuck this all up.
His eyebrows raise slightly, checking in on you for the first time in so so long, and another thought takes over your mind. I love you, I love you, I love you.
Blinking away the thought, you nod, but you can't stop yourself as you clarify, "It's just a temp assignment, right?"
He finishes the sentence he was writing before looking up. "Yes. It's only temporary."
***
"Daddy, don't look at me."
Jack's voice filters out from his bedroom and he looks at Jess with a small laugh as she pretends to lock her lips and toss away the key.
"I'm not looking," he calls out. "Are you almost ready?"
There's a small sound of affirmation from down the hall, so he stands up from the couch and reaches for the little jack-o-lantern bag that Jack wanted to use for trick-or-treating.
When he looks up, his son is emerging from his room, dressed incredibly unlike the comic book character he wanted to be for Halloween.
"Whoa," Aaron says, his voice a low rumble. "That is definitely not Spider-Man."
Jack just shrugs. "He's not a real superhero."
"He's not?" He looks at his son again, trying to discern which superhero wears a suit. "Okay. I give up. Who are you supposed to be?"
The answer is immediate. "I'm you, Daddy."
Jess nudges his shoulder with a laugh before she walks forward and swings Jack into the air. "You look just like him, bud!"
He opens his mouth to add onto that sentiment, but his throat thickens with emotion and he has to clear his throat to get a word out. "You tied my tie so well." It's the best he can do with his eyes burning. All he wanted was for his son to feel safe and loved. Maybe I'm doing something right.
"Alright, buddy," Jess smiles, setting him down. "Grab your coat and shoes and we'll head out."
Jack runs off and she smiles at him again, crossing her arms over her chest. "You're a great dad."
"Thank you," he says simply, his lips curving up into a smile. She says it a lot, but for the first time in a while, he's finally starting to believe it.
Jess opens her mouth to say something, but she pauses for an extra second, piquing his interest. "I haven't seen Y/N around here in a little bit."
There it is. He should've seen it coming. "Yeah, she's just busy."
His words don't sound convincing, even to his own ears, and Jess shoots him a look to match. "I happen to know you quite well, Aaron. So if you're overthinking something you shouldn't be, let me be the first to say, you're being an idiot."
He lets out a surprised snort. "Thanks, Jessica."
"I'm just saying," she shrugs, tucking a strand of curly hair behind her ear. "I see things...and I know both of you, so it's not hard to read into things."
He takes a deep breath, pushing his hair back from his forehead. "It's not like that."
He expects her to push back, but she just presses her lips together and shrugs her coat on. "Either way, Haley saw it too...and she seemed happy about it."
Before he has a chance to fully process her words, Jack rushes out, barreling into him. "I'm ready!"
"Alright, my little G-man," he grins, pushing her words out of his head for the night. "Let's go get some candy."
***
Things have been shifting at the office. Ever since JJ left, the team has felt smaller, and with your unintentional (okay, maybe a little intentional) avoidance of Aaron, the office hasn't felt the same in a long time.
Everyone has been taking on more than they're used to, and when Penelope had to fill in for JJ in a press conference during your last case, you couldn't help but notice how she turned to Aaron for support whenever she felt unprepared.
Your curiosity about their shared secret was eating at you all day, until you received a mass email from him to the whole team. Re: Garcia's play, Tolgate Theater, 8pm
You didn't have any plans tonight anyway, and after long days in a seemingly endless rotation of slacks and blazers, you welcome the chance to dress up a little bit. It's not like you go out often (or at all) unless it's with the team.
Pushing to the back of your closet, you rifle through the longer dresses and gowns you own, before landing on a light green, silk number. It has a halter neckline that drapes loosely around your neck, and you haven't worn it since before Jeff died, because it always felt like too much.
But Emily messaged you after getting home with a photo of her dress too, and even though it may be a lot for a little neighborhood theater, you're excited about something for the first time in a long while.
After putting on the dress and doing your makeup a bit darker than usual, you grab your keys and head out.
~
He got to the theater a bit earlier than the rest of the team, mostly to apologize to Garcia and warn her about the onslaught of support she was going to be getting, but he also wanted to get there before you did, so he could save a seat for you beside him.
From an outsider's perspective, he imagines there wouldn't seem to be anything different or wrong with your relationship, but he has been feeling the frustrating tension between the two of you since that night out.
Speaking with Jess on Halloween felt like a welcome reprieve from his cycle of self-loathing, and he finally feels more free than he has in ages.
Emily, Derek, and Spencer arrive a short while later, and he points them toward the seats he booked out, before heading back to the lobby, where family and friends of the performers are milling around.
When Dave arrives, he's also dressed in a suit. "We certainly clean up nicely."
He coughs out a laugh. "I haven't pulled this suit out in years."
"Well, aside from the cobwebs," Dave jokes, brushing an imaginary piece of dust from his shoulder, "you look classy."
"Thanks," he smiles, patting the older man's arm. "You should head inside. We're sitting about halfway up."
"You coming?" Dave asks as he steps around him.
Aaron shakes his head, glancing back at the door again. "I'm going to wait for...everyone to get here. I'll meet you inside."
He nods, before smacking his shoulder once and walking into the theater. When Dave's out of sight, he turns back around and pulls his phone out, trying to look busy.
He scrolls through a couple of his latest emails before tucking his phone away. The front door of the theater opens then, and when he looks up, all of the air leaves his lungs.
It feels like the world is moving in slow motion as you glide inside, your dress billowing down as the breeze from outside settles. You look incredible, and he feels like a teenager again, when he was so in love with you he couldn't breathe.
He watches you glance around, clearly searching for a familiar face, so he walks up, approaching you slowly to give you time to notice him.
"Oh, hi!" you say, your lips curving up into a smile as he tucks a hand into his pocket. "Am I late?"
"Not at all," he says, hating how strained his voice sounds. "The play starts at the top of the hour."
"Perfect," you smile, removing your shawl from your shoulders and folding it in your hands. "You clean up well, by the way."
There's a slight tinge of humor in your voice, and you're looking at him expectantly, likely waiting for him to lead you to the seats, but he can't move. He's terrified of what he's feeling, but you look amazing, and he's surrounded by people he doesn't know, so he doesn't overthink it as he reaches out and slips a hand onto your waist.
You clearly aren't expecting it as he pulls you in closer, his fingers sliding across the silkiness of your dress. You smell like flowers, and he can't help himself as he leans in to press a kiss to your cheek. "You're beautiful."
Reality doesn't set in until he lets you go. Your cheeks are slightly flushed and he can't think straight, but the moment you step away from him and head to theater doors, the fog clears.
What is he doing?
The rational part of his brain takes over and he mumbles a curse under his breath before jogging forward to follow you inside. At least for the time being, he has the play to cover himself, but when morning comes, and brings with it the harsh light of day, he's fucked.
***
His skin is burning. The temperature in his office feels like it has been turned all the way up, but even as he undoes his cufflinks and rolls his sleeves back, the heat doesn't abate.
He is loosening his tie when his office door opens, revealing you in your rumpled button down and slacks. He opens his mouth to ask why you're still here, but before he can get a word out, you're shutting the door behind you and locking it.
"What are you doing?" he asks as you saunter over to him, stepping around his desk and pressing your hands to the armrests of his chair. "Y/N, it's late-"
"Shut up," you say firmly, twisting his chair toward you with a strong pull. He moves to get up, but you push his shoulder down to keep him in his chair.
He already doesn't know what to say, but every thought leaves his brain as you sink down to your knees before him.
"Don't move," you whisper, your eyes glinting up at him as you deftly undo the buckle of his belt and yank his pants open. "I'm in charge now."
He lets out a gasp as you tug his pants down in one go, and before he can do anything, your fingers are on him. Your lips curve into a smile as his breath hitches, and even with the thin fabric of his boxers between you two, the sensations coursing through him feel so magnified and new.
He is already hard as a rock, and you've barely even touched him. Teasingly slow, you pull his boxers down, watching as his cock springs free from the confines. Without wasting another second, you run your tongue up his length, and he grits his teeth to keep the groans in his throat from spilling out.
Your lips slowly close around his tip and the wet heat makes his head fall back as he tries to calm his breathing down. His chest is heaving like he just went for a run, but when you hollow your cheeks around him, he can't keep the moan inside. He loses control for a moment as he reaches forward to grasp onto your hair, but that only seems to spur you on, as you bob your head even faster.
The wet sounds of your mouth sliding over his cock fill the office, and he clutches his armrest with one hand and uses the other to guide your head.
He's already so close, and the soft grip of your hands on his thighs aren't helping as he tries to hold off, to prolong this feeling. At the last second, you swirl your tongue around the tip, and he chokes out a gasp, but then-
His eyes fly open to the lonely darkness of his bedroom. The room is warmer than it usually is, and his skin feels sticky with sweat under his covers. His mind, on the other hand...
He doesn't remember every moment of the dream, but the message was clear enough. His boxers are still tight from the memory, and he tries as hard as he can to think about anything else, but he keeps going back to the image of you, in front of him, kneeling-
Throwing the covers off, he sits up quickly and climbs out of bed, needing to clear his head in the only effective way he knows of. He shrugs his clothes off on the way to the bathroom, and he turns the shower on, making the water steaming hot, before stepping inside. The steam fogs up the glass around him, but he can still see the bare outline of his shame in the mirror across from the shower.
But now isn't the time, not with his skin burning and his cock pulsing in his hand. He pumps a few times as the hot water cascades over him, trying to set a rhythm, but it doesn't feel right. He keeps nearing the edge before the wave pulls back, and he lets out a soft groan in frustration as he presses his forehead to the glass.
Just once, he thinks as he grips himself again, his mind shifting back to his dream. Only this once.
His brain fills with the images from earlier: you on your knees, your mouth warm and wet over him, the pinpricks of sweat across the swells of your chest where your shirt was unbuttoned. He pictures your mouth as he ruts into his own hand, pretending, wishing, it was you instead.
It only takes a few more pumps before he finishes, spilling onto the white floor of his shower. The energy leaves him as he slumps against the wall, twisting the knob to a cooler setting, before shutting it off completely.
He still has a few more hours of sleep left before he has to get up for work, but he spends all night tossing and turning in the wide, empty expanse of his bed.
***
"What do you think he meant?"
"Maybe it's like a new manual, or guidebook."
"What are you two on about?" You walk up to your desk and slump down into the chair as Emily and Spencer look up with meek smiles.
Spencer is the first to crack. "We were discussing what Hotch might have meant by a 'different tactic' to solve this case in New Mexico."
You frown. "The gated community one? I thought Dave was just flying over ahead of us to get a head start."
"Nope," Emily shakes her head, before turning around. "He's in Hotch's office right now."
You look up just as Aaron and Dave exit the office and begin their descent down the stairs. Dave is ahead of him, with a big smile on his face, as he pushes past all of you.
It's only after you turn around that you realize who he's looking at. The woman he pulls into a hug is young - Academy cadet young - and she's pretty too.
"Ashley!" Rossi exclaims as he lets her go.
Hotch walks up behind them and shakes her hand. "Agent trainee Seaver is on loan to us from the Academy."
He introduces her to each of you, and you reach forward to shake her hand, a big smile on your face. After he told you that the bureau was considering someone new, you have had your guard up, but you don't want to make a bad impression in case she's here to stay.
"It's great to meet all of you," she says with a meek smile.
You pat her shoulder before walking past her to speak with Aaron about whether Seaver was the the new addition he was talking about. But when you lift your hand to get his attention, he turns away without looking at you, and leads Rossi out of the bullpen.
~
In the New Mexico gated community where three women have been murdered so far, Emily and Derek split off to check out the last crime scene, so you stay with the rest of the team and Seaver at one of the model homes to go through the evidence.
You can't help but notice how Spencer's eyes keep flitting over to the new girl, and a grin crosses your lips as you nudge his shoulder later.
"You totally have a thing for the new girl."
"Wha-what, no?!" he sputters, his face twisting into an unconvincing frown. "I don't even know her."
You just shrug. "You can still think she's pretty."
"That's irrelevant," he mutters, nudging you back and grabbing one of the files in front of him. "Do you think we can trust the local police?"
"I don't know," you sigh, letting him change the subject. "We definitely can't rule them out, especially in a community as clustered as this."
You glance across the room to Aaron and Dave, who are standing hunched over a laptop with the local detective. They're brows are all equally furrowed, and Aaron looks so focused you doubt he would hear you if you yelled his name right now.
Dropping the file onto the counter, you step around Reid and walk over to the trio, listening in as they start speaking.
"You interviewed every adult male in the community?"
The detective nods. "More than once. They're all digitized."
Aaron glances up as you approach, but when he realizes who it is, his eyes dart back to the screen. His eyes meet yours for the briefest of seconds, and he sees a frown cross your face out of his periphery. Fuck. He has to be more careful. You're a fucking profiler, for god's sake.
"Were all the interviews confrontational like this?" you ask as you come up beside him. He can feel the warmth of your arm inches away from his, and he leans his weight to the other side, trying not to think about his dream while you're standing this close to him.
"Is that wrong?"
Rossi raises his eyebrow. "You didn't get much out of them, did you?"
The detective shakes his head before skipping to the next interview, and everyone leans in closer to get a better look. With four of you surrounding the screen, it's harder to see, and when you press your hand to his shoulder to balance yourself, he all but flinches back from your touch.
The movement is harsh enough that everyone but the detective notices. His eyes fly to you as shock and confusion cross your face, and before anyone can say anything, he mutters something that sounds like 'sorry' before rushing out of the model home.
~
You're chasing after him the moment he's out of sight. Dave reaches forward to catch your arm but you shake him off, rushing out of the house and onto the street, which has been cleared by the local police since you arrived.
"Aaron!" you call out as he walks ahead of you, his hand raking through his hair. To his credit, he comes to a stop the moment he hears your voice, and you catch up to him quickly, stopping just short of him on the sidewalk. "What is going on? I thought we were okay?"
His eyes close for a beat, before his face hardens into a steely calm. You can no longer pretend like everything's fine. It hasn't been for a long time - not since the bar, and maybe even before - but you've always been good at compartmentalizing what you don't want to feel. With your mom, and Jeff, and Haley, you could push down the hurt until it dissolved into your bloodstream, spreading everywhere. It wore you down and thinned you out, but at least it wasn't overwhelming.
Looking at him now - your best friend, the man you...love. Your breath catches in your throat and he shakes his head, not looking at you. "What do you mean, Y/N?"
You wish you could keep pretending, like he seems to be able to, but it's just not fair anymore. Not to him, and especially not to you. "No, don't do this. Don't act like I'm the only one who sees how wrong this has been for the last few months. I used to talk to you everyday, Aaron. We've barely spoken in weeks!"
His face cracks for a moment and you see the glimmer of pain in his eyes before the wall comes up again. "I don't know what you want me to say. I'm sorry."
"You're sorry?" you yell, your tone more forceful than you expect. "What are you sorry for, Aaron?"
He looks at you then, the facade falling away as your words sink in. The lines of pain and tension settle in and you're almost relieved that he's finally showing you the truth instead of hiding away what he's feeling. But then the despair returns as his lips thin into a line, unable to answer your question.
"What," you repeat, your words tinged with malice, "are you sorry for?"
He whispers your name softly, like it's an apology on it's own, before using his next words to tear you to pieces. "Don't make me say it."
A soft gasp leaves your mouth and you involuntarily take a step back, like he's slapped you in the face. He runs a hand over his neck and a sudden feverish anger rushes through you as you shake your head, blinking back tears. "Don't do that. I know it's not just me, Aaron. It's not-"
"Please," he whispers suddenly, cutting you off. "Please don't do this."
It's almost like he's begging you, and you jerk back, unable to look at him. Men have hurt you before, in so many ways, but nothing has ever cut deeper than this. You don't think your bullet wound hurt this much, and at least then you had him to support you. Now you're all alone.
The aching heartbreak hits you all at once and you brush a loose tear off your cheek before turning around and leaving him out on the sidewalk, watching you walk away.
***
"Something's up."
Penelope bumps Emily's shoulder to grab her attention. After a second, she looks up from her desk. "What was that?"
"Something," Penelope repeats, her eyes darting back and forth between you and Aaron, "is up. Y/N and Hotch haven't looked at each other in like four days. Earlier, she was talking to someone on the stairs and he literally walked out of his office and then back inside again."
Emily looks at her. "Are you sure you aren't reading into anything?"
Penelope shoots her a look that can only mean 'you're kidding, right?' "They're inseparable. Something must have happened in the last few weeks that we don't know about."
Before she can stop her, Penelope stands up and barrels over to you, with Emily on her heels like an owner who just dropped her dog's leash.
"Y/N!" Penelope calls out as she approaches you. You look up from your desk with a frown, before your face breaks into a forced smile that both of them can see through immediately. "We wanted to catch up."
You glance at Emily, who shrugs, earning a look of chagrin from the other agent.
"Okay, what do you want to talk about?" you ask, your forehead crinkling in a manner reminiscent of your boss.
Penelope pauses for a moment, like she's trying to think. "Uhh, I'm not sure. Maybe about...you and Hotch?"
"Subtle," Emily mutters under her breath as your face scrunches into a confused frown. "She just means that you two have seemed kind of off lately, and we were wondering if everything was okay."
You press your lips together, unsure of how to broach this topic, even with some of your closest friends. "It's nothing."
That pulls a frown from both of them, and you sigh, doubling down on your feigned nonchalance. "It's really nothing, guys. I just...can't see him right now."
You turn back to your work and Emily and Penelope share a look, twin realizations clicking in both of their minds. They rush back to Penelope's office, and Emily shuts the door behind them, before they both blurt out something that sounds like: "We all know what's going on here."
"We have to make him jealous," Emily agrees with a nod.
She pulls open her desk drawer and pulls out her address book. "I have just the thing."
***
"I messed up, Haley."
The ground is hard from the chilly December air, and he sits uncomfortably on the familiar granite bench before her grave. There is a bouquet of dried-up flowers leaning against her headstone, and he doesn't have to think too hard to figure out who they're from.
"I'm trying not to," he whispers, stuffing his hands into his jacket pockets to warm them up, "but I keep messing up."
A cool breeze wafts over him and the rustle of the nearby trees feels like an acknowledgement. Like she's really listening.
"She hates me," he sighs, his chin dropping to his chest as he shuts his eyes. The wind picks up slightly, and it's like he can hear Haley's voice in his head. She doesn't hate you. She's hurt.
"I know." He runs a gloved hand over his face, the cold sending a small shiver through his body. "It's my fault. I just don't know what to do or how to fix it."
Her reply in his mind is almost immediate.Yes you do.
He shakes his head, feeling like an idiot for talking to himself, even though it's helping him work through his emotions. "I don't. I really don't."
For a few moments, all he can hear is the rustle of tree branches and the low whistle of the wind blowing around the headstones. You have to tell her how you feel.
His chest tightens and he lifts his face, letting the cold air sting his skin, like some kind of penance. "Don't you think I want to? Every time I look at her, I'm terrified it's going to come out, but I can't say it." He takes a deep breath as the words start to flow out. He hasn't said them out loud to anyone, but right here feels like the safest place to let them out. "I love her."
Three simple words and it's like a weight lifts off of his chest. He still doesn't have the answers, but at least he can admit it to himself.  "I'm in love with her, Hales. The only person in this world that I love more is Jack."
He can practically see her smile as he glances down at her name etched in stone. Then what's the problem.
"I'm gonna fuck it up. I always do." The words come out before he has a chance to think, almost like they've been sitting on the tip of his tongue for ages. He looks down at the ground again, imagining her sitting in front of him. "I did with you."
This time, his mind doesn't have the answer for him. He's finally in a good place with his son, and with the addition of Seaver to the team, his work load has been marginally cut back, so he doesn't really have an excuse anymore. It's just his fear of losing one of the only good things in his life that keeps holding him back.
But you're already losing her. 
It's his own voice berating him this time, instead of Haley's. 
You're trying so hard to hold her at arm's length that you haven't even noticed that she has stopped pushing her way in.
The wind rushes over him and he looks at the headstone again, his eyes tracing over Haley's name one more time, before he stands up and walks back down the hill.
***
Dave's annual new year's eve party has always been a fairly large spectacle, but when Aaron leads Jack up his driveway that evening, the sheer number of (expensive) cars lined up outside is nearly staggering.
He knew it wouldn't just be the team here tonight, but he wasn't expecting the sheer scale of the party, especially while his mind has been so pre-occupied with the prospect of seeing you outside of work for the first time in weeks. 
The front door is unlocked when they reach the top of the porch, so he carefully pushes it open and leads Jack inside. He's only an hour late, but the hallways are already crowded with groups milling around, having loud conversations with a drink in their hand.
He doesn't recognize anyone until he gets to the kitchen, where he sees the rest of the team (minus Dave) chatting around a small snack table.
"Y/N!" Jack shrieks when he sees you, letting go of his hand immediately and running forward. You turn at the sound of his voice, and your face breaks out into a wide smile as the boy barrels over and throws his arms around you.
"Jack-o-lantern!" you gush, lifting him up and hugging him, your eyes falling shut as you squeeze the boy tightly.
Any onlooker can tell that his son loves you. For a while after Haley's death, Jack was closed off to every female figure in his life - even Jess - but he never shied away from you.
I love you, a voice in the back of his mind whispers as you set Jack down and press a kiss to the top of his head. I love you I love you I love you.
~
After Dave returned from the back patio and whisked away Aaron and Jack to meet some of his other friends, you loitered around the kitchen for a while, chatting with Derek and Spencer about their resolutions for the new year.
You're refilling your glass with some diluted punch when JJ and Emily sneak up behind you with matching mischievous expressions. 
"What did you guys do?" you ask, gulping back some punch in preparation for whatever they're about to spring on you.
"There's someone we want you to meet," Emily grins as she reaches forward to loop her arm through yours.
"Oh, no way," you say, already shaking your head before they can elaborate. "You are not setting me up with some random bureau guy again."
"That was only one time," JJ pouts, before beckoning to the hallway across from the kitchen. You glance over her shoulder and spot Will standing with a man you've never seen before. "I had Will bring one of his single friends tonight. He's an architect, and he's super smart and super cute. Totally your type."
You raise an eyebrow as you inspect the man from across the room. He's definitely easy on the eyes, but he's also not your type. There's only one man who fits into that box.
"I don't know," you sigh, setting your glass down on the table behind you. "It's very sudden."
"C'mon," Emily urges, her eyes glinting with amusement. "It'll be good. Just talk and flirt a little, and if you're into it then you have a new year's kiss locked up!"
Kissing someone you just met in front of all of your colleagues sounds like nightmare fuel, but you can't think of another way to get your friends off your back. "Okay, fine, I'll meet him."
~
After leaving Jack with Henry and the other children, he heads back into the main section of the house, hoping to run into you. He doesn't know what he would say if he does, but anything is better than the avoidance game you've been playing.
He sees Penelope and JJ first, but you're not with them, so he continues forward, deftly stepping around throngs of people conversing in little pockets around the house. 
"Hotch, over here!"
He whips around to find Derek, Will, and Dave waving him over to join them in the kitchen. He grabs a piece of cheese off a platter on his way over, and Derek pats him on the back when he reaches the three of them. 
They return to their prior topic of conversation, and he tunes them out as his eyes dart around the room, still looking for you. He's about to give up when he spots the familiar hue of your hair down the hall. His lips curve up in a small smile as he watches you lean your head back with a big laugh that he swears he can hear even from all the way over here. He's about to excuse himself from the guys when a hand reaches out to gently touch your forearm, and you don't shake it off.
It's only then that he notices the man you're talking to, and how enamored he looks as you burst into another bout of laughter. Something that feels like ice settles in the pit of his stomach and he turns back to the guys just as they notice what he's been looking at.
"They seem to be hitting it off," Will grins, crossing his arms over his chest. "My friend's a good guy, and he mentioned wanting to meet her after they crossed paths at one of me and JJ's dinner parties."
He notices Dave glance at him out of the corner of his eye, but he can't bear to look at the older man, for fear that he'll give something away. Aaron feels the nauseating pit of jealousy in his stomach, but it's not fair. He pushed you away.
He turns away from you and tries to focus on literally anything else, but it's not long before he's unable to fight the urge to look at you from his spot in the kitchen. You can't see him watching you, and it gives him the obscurity he needs to observe you from afar, but it also makes it much more conspicuous to his friends.
You don't leave the company of Will's friend until much later in the night, and soon it's almost midnight. The countdown starts as everyone in the house lifts their glasses and latches onto their significant others.
"Ten, nine, eight..."
He's turning before he knows what he's doing. He can't help it, it's almost magnetic, the pull you have on him. 
You're not looking at him, and he can only see your side profile as you glance up at the clock as it ticks down.
"Five, four, three, two..."
He turns away at the last second, unable to stomach the thought of you kissing someone else, but when the crowd erupts into cheers, he looks back to find that you're gone. His heart rates spikes and he pushes through people, ignoring the pats on his back as people wish him a "Happy new year". 
He eventually spots you through the back windows, and he steps out into the frigid air to accompany you on the back porch steps. You're sitting on the top step, your bare arms wrapped around your body for some semblance of warmth, and for a moment, he can't move.
He can't decide if he should go to you or let you have the space you so clearly wanted, but then a voice in the back of his skull yells at him through all the noise. She's your best friend in the world. A few months ago, the answer would have been obvious.
A switch flips and he steps forward, sliding off his jacket and draping it over your shoulders. You let out a soft sigh as he sinks down next to you, and he watches as your eyes glisten in the lamplight. 
You don't look at him as you press your elbows into your knees and rub a hand over your neck. "How did this get so fucked up?"
He sighs too, a heavy sound. "I don't know." 
He's still looking at you, at the tears in your eyes, when you finally take a deep breath and turn to face him. A tear slips down your cheek and his brain fires off sparks again. I love you, I love you, I love you.
He wants to say it so badly, but then the newest factor in all of his confusion jumps back into the forefront. The Pakistan assignment. He has been trying to push it off, but he's getting so much pressure from the brass, and that's just one more thing he's hiding from you. 
He breaks your eye contact and you let out a slow breath, almost like you felt him lose his nerve in real time. Without another word, you wipe the tears from your face and stand up, leaving him out in the cold once again.
***
The bureau gives you a week off at the start of the new year, but you can't enjoy any of your alone time. Every second you let your mind wander, your thoughts are invaded by the look on his face as he turned away from you. 
You had seen it in his eyes out there, in the freezing cold air as the clock struck midnight. At least a small part of him felt for you the same way you felt for him. But it's not enough.
You've been alone for so many years. When you married Jeff, you were done. You didn't think you'd have to ever feel this kind of heartbreak again, but now that you feel that kind of love again, you refuse to settle for anything less than what you deserve. And what you deserve is someone who can show you how he feels. 
Nevertheless, you can't control your subconscious. 
That's why you're laying in bed at the end of the week, staring at your nightlight across the room and somehow managing to simultaneously miss him and hate him. It's well past midnight and you can't sleep, but you don't want to give in to the urge that's been tugging at your gut all night. 
You're so angry with him, but he's also the only person you want to talk to when you're feeling anything you can't explain. It only takes another minute before you're giving in and snatching your phone off your bedside table.
It rings for a long time before he finally answers. 
He whispers your name softly, his voice gravelly as though he just woke up. He sounds confused, but it has to mean something that he answered his phone at this hour.
"Are you okay?" Aaron asks, his voice still a bit gruff from the tiredness. "What's wrong?"
I miss you, you want to say. Instead, you panic and ask the first question that pops into your head: "Why do you think The Beatles broke up?"
The line goes silent for a moment before he sighs quietly. "Everyone blames Yoko but you know I think they just stopped working well together creatively." 
"It was probably Lennon deciding to leave the band," you say, unsure where you're going with this. "Yeah, that makes the most sense."
"Maybe," he says, his voice a low hum.
There's no tinge of impatience or irritation in his tone, but you still feel awful for waking him up in the early hours of the morning to chat about a band. 
You take a deep breath, trying to prepare yourself for what you're about to say, but the breath catches in your throat as a small sob escapes. "I'm so mad at you."
There's a pause on the other end of the line, before Aaron exhales sharply. "I know."
Your resolve fades almost immediately and you sink back into your pillows. "I'm not mad at you." He quietly huffs out a laugh, but you can tell his heart isn't in it. "I'm hurt, and yeah, I'm kind of mad at you, but the only person I want to talk to is you."
You can hear his breath stutter over the speaker, and he rears up to say something, before thinking better of it. "It's late, Y/N. You should go to bed."
"Yeah," you say eventually, rubbing tears of frustration from your eyes. "I'm sorry, yeah."
"No," he says quickly, his voice hurried as though he's afraid you'll hang up. "Don't apologize. I'm glad you called."
Your heart flutters pathetically. "Okay."
"Why were you up anyway?" he asks after a moment.
You shrug, even though he can't see you, wiping away the last remnants of your tears. "Couldn't sleep."
Something that sounds like a quiet chuckle floats into your ears. "Try turning off that massive nightlight."
Your eyes widen and you inadvertently glance over at the beacon of light plugged in across the room. "What nightlight?"
He hums again. "Goodnight, Y/N." I love you.
"Goodnight, Aaron." I love you too.
***
It started when Emily arrived late to the briefing. She was never late, so that itself was enough to set off your alarms, but then you noticed her fingers. She's biting her nails again.
Aaron finishes briefing you all about the two families murdered in house fires in the DC area, before you disperse and head back to your desks to read up about the evidence.
When you drop your bag down and sink into your chair, you don't miss how Spencer visibly flinches in his seat, his eyes twitching with exhaustion.
"Sorry, Spence," you say earnestly, turning to him with an anxious look. "Is everything okay?"
"Yeah," he answers quickly, his eyes darting back down to the case file. "I'm... I'm...I'm sure these victims overlap somehow. Garcia pulled their phone numbers, but so far I can't find anything."
You've been working with him long enough to notice when he's deflecting, especially when he's doing such a bad job of it. "Spencer, you just jumped."
He takes a deep breath and you're suddenly grateful that his shorter haircut allows you to get a better view of his expression, even with his head down. "I've been having these really intense headaches lately." "Have you seen a doctor?" you ask, sliding your chair in to get a better look at him. "Yeah, a few. None of them have been able to figure it out." "I'm sorry," you say genuinely as guilt and shame flood your veins. You've been so preoccupied with your own drama that you haven't been paying any attention to your friends. First Emily, and now Spencer. "Does anyone know?"
His lips press into an adorable line. "You." "I won't tell anyone," you assure him, your eyebrows scrunching down. "I'm glad you're telling me now." "I know," he nods. "I just didn't want you to worry."
"I won't make a big deal out of it," you tell him, your lips curving up in a playful smile, "if that's what you were worried about."
"Thanks," he mutters, but you can tell his heart isn't really in it.
It's been so long since you sat down and caught up with your teammates, and given how weird Emily has been acting, you figure it's about time. 
~
"Have you noticed anything off with Emily?"
It's Penelope who comes to you first about the change in your teammate's disposition. You had clocked the small jab Emily had thrown at her after the briefing, but didn't want to intrude in case it was personal. You're starting to realize it might be a lot more personal than you originally thought.
"I have," you say simply, glancing back at her across the bullpen. Her head is down and her shoulders are hunched forward as she quickly types something out on her phone. 
She waits for another moment before jolting upright and standing up. Before either of you can get a chance to ask what's wrong, she is jetting off to the bathroom.
"I got this one," you tell Penelope before strutting off to follow her.
She's looking at her phone again when the bathroom door shuts behind you, and you approach her slowly so as not to spook her. "Hey, I just wanted to check up on you. You sped out of there."
"I'm fine," she says, trying to brush away your worry with a wave of her hand.
You frown, taking a step forward. "Are you sure? I noticed you've been biting your-"
"Don't profile me, Y/N," she snaps, her head turning to level you with a glare that would have scared the shit out of you if you didn't know her so well. It doesn't last long though, and before you can get another word out, she's already apologizing. "I'm sorry. I-I'm gonna be alright. I promise. I'm just having this nightmare."
She details her dream to you, and the profiler in you can't help but relate it to her own lack of trust, but then she looks at you with a genuine smile and you just have to smile back.
"Somehow, you.." she pauses for a beat. "You always make me feel better. I don't think I've ever thanked you for that."
Her words feel so final, like she's saying goodbye, and a bolt of terror shoots through you before you decide you're being dramatic.
She's your friend. She's gonna be alright.
~
Emily's gone. She slipped out during Aaron's multi-agency task force briefing, and none of you noticed.
How could you not have noticed?
You're kicking yourself as Spencer pulls out a sheet of paper from one of Emily's contacts, with a list of undercover names all with the initials L.R. 
"Prentiss is the last name on the list," Rossi deduces as you mentally check back into the conversation. Your eyes scan the board with the name 'Lauren Reynolds' written at the top. "That means she's on Doyle's list too."
"Guys," Aaron calls out from Emily's desk, holding up her things in his hands, "she left her badge and gun."
"Why would she do that?" Penelope asks, her voice small like a child's. "We're her family."
That's when you finally find your voice. "She ran to protect us." You turn to Aaron then, your eyes flashing over his like it's the first time you've ever really looked at him. "How do we find her?"
"We need to profile their behavior," he instructs, moving to the front board. "Doyle is our unsub and Prentiss is our victim. We treat it like any other case." 
There's the small sound of a door opening and Aaron looks up, beckoning his chin to the back. "Because terrorism isn't an area we specialize in, I've reached out to an expert from the State Department...someone who can also shed light on Prentiss' past."
You whip around to the sight of a familiar head of blonde hair walking into the briefing room. The tension in your shoulders abates for a split second as gratitude cascades over you. God, you missed her.
JJ saunters forward and nods at each of you, her expression already rigid with concentration. "Let's get to work."
~
Profiling Emily takes you all to Boston, where the evidence from the previous victims adds up to the conclusion that Doyle is a family annihilator. When you also find out that he has a secret son, you and Derek lead the team to the warehouse where the son was last taken, in the hopes that Emily would have made the same connection.
The sound of a loud crash sends you running, but Derek is faster and he gets there before you. You enter the back room to find Emily bleeding out on the floor, a large wooden post stuck through her abdomen.
"I got her!" he yells into his comms before pressing his hands onto her wound. "Prentiss. It's me, I'm right here."
She mumbles something that sounds like his name and your chest floods with relief. You step out of the room to call for a medic, but when you get back, she isn't moving.
"Emily!" Derek yells as you sink to your knees beside him. Your pants are wet with her blood, and it feels like ice against your skin. How can there be so much blood in the human body? 
"Come on," he pleads, tightening his grip on her hand. "Stay with me!"
"Emily, please," you whisper, your throat hoarse from the unshed tears. You press your fingers to her pulse. "Please."
The medics come eventually, and she is taken to the hospital, where the whole team is holed up in the waiting room. Spencer hasn't stopped pacing since she was taken into surgery and you can't seem to take your face out of your hands, even as people press comforting pats on your shoulders. 
You don't notice anything going on around you until JJ comes back from speaking with the doctor with tears in her eyes. No, oh god no.
You barely register her words as she whispers, "She never made it off the table."
It's only then that you stand up. You're not sure what you're planning to do, but as soon as you try to move, your legs start shaking, like you're slipping in quicksand. Aaron steps towards you just as your body gives out and you collapse onto him, quiet sobs bubbling out of your throat.
"She was just here," you cry into his chest while you clutch his shirt as though your life depends on it. "How can she be gone?"
His hands rub comforting circles into your back as his arms tighten around you, keeping you upright, and you can't help but imagine that this picture looks vaguely reminiscent of his home last year when you held him up as he broke down. 
Emily's gone.
You can't even remember why you were so angry with him before. Everything outside of this moment feels so trivial, like you've been wasting so much time. You need him now, and you're so thankful he's here to hold you up even though his pain is just as big as yours.
Aaron wraps himself tighter around you, fighting the tears that are rushing forward, because they just aren't fair. His whole team is falling apart in front of him, and he's one of two people here who knows the truth.
You choke out another sob and he tugs you upward, helping you stand again as you wipe the tears from your face. Out of the corner of his periphery, he sees JJ pull Spencer into a hug, and she meets his eye over the younger agent's shoulder. So much pain.
"What are we supposed to do now?" you ask suddenly, your voice so small he's sure he's the only person who can hear you. "How are we supposed to keep going?"
The familiar echoing emptiness of guilt swallows him whole and he sucks in a sharp breath in a futile effort to keep himself from drowning. Your glistening eyes are so wide with despair, and he pulls you back into his arms, mostly for comfort, but also because he can't stand to see you in pain for much longer. When he finally finds his voice, all that comes out is, "I don't know."
***
You can barely remember the funeral. 
When you try to think about it, there are flashes of white gloves and red roses and rough, brown dirt, but the only thing that really sticks out is the pressure of Aaron's hand over yours as you stood in front of her casket while they lowered her into the ground.
So many funerals, so many gravestones. The eery familiarity that has made you numb to the loss, even as it threatens to tear you apart each time you let yourself think about her.
It has become a regular passage in the story of your life: meet someone new, learn to love again, and then lose them.
Tears prick your eyes as you settle into the stiff wooden chair in your kitchen. The team has been organizing impromptu get-togethers all month, mostly at the last minute and usually late at night. That's when the loneliness hits the hardest. 
You figure you should be used to it by now. Deep down, you know it's not something anyone ever gets used to, but believing that the pain will abate is easier than realizing it'll always be there, buried in your bones. 
The pain of your mother's death is still a phantom bruise under your skin, always there, but never at the forefront until you press hard enough. Losing Jeff was a whole other monster, hiding under your bed and within the confines of your mind, ready to pounce the moment you closed your eyes. Haley, on the other hand, was a fresh wound; sometimes, you still aren't sure that the gash has fully closed, but with time it has gotten easier to pretend that things aren't awful all the time.
You wipe a loose tear from your cheek as you check your phone messages and tidy up some of the plates from your table. Aaron came over last night, and you both sat in silence for a long time, until a photo of Emily on your computer brought you to tears again. He held you for hours as you shook in his arms, trying to keep yourself together, but ultimately failing.
The silver lining of his renewed presence in your life doesn't feel as sweet as it should, given the circumstances, but you'll take any win you can get. If nothing else, you missed the feel of his arms around you.
You flinch as the dishes clink together loudly when you set them in the sink, and you watch the water dribble from the faucet for a long time, pretending that all you see isn't her blood.
***
He doesn't know what to do. He wants to be there for you more than anything else in this world, but seeing you break down is like being stabbed all over again, only this time it's his own fault. 
When you called last night, he couldn't stay away. He misses you like he's missing a limb, and even if he wanted to stop himself from seeing you, he knows he couldn't. Your grief has brought you back to him, but it feels wretched, even as he shoves aside his guilt for an evening to comfort you at this low.
He had lost count of the number of work-related things he had kept from Haley when they were married, but he always had the excuse that she didn't need to know. That her life would be better without the knowledge of all the horrors that circled them everyday. 
He doesn't have the same excuse with you. You are well-acquainted with the tragedies that life brings, and if it was up to him, he would spill every secret he has ever hidden, because he loves you, and you're one of the last people in this world who still trusts him, and he's so scared that after this, he'll lose that too. 
But he keeps his mouth shut. And when Garcia invites him to a get-together at your place, he politely declines, because if he knows you all have each other, then he can take one night off from the debilitating guilt he somehow still hasn't learned to shoulder after all these years.
***
"Come on in."
Spencer, Derek, and Penelope shuffle into your house, handing you bottles of wine and bags of assorted snacks, before plopping down on your couch and making themselves at home. They've been over so many times in the last few weeks that you figure it basically is their second home at this point, not that you mind. 
None of you want to be alone, and that's why it works.
"What are we watching tonight?" Derek asks, his voice nonchalant, like it's just another movie night with your colleagues. He always starts the night acting like everything's fine, and it really irked you the first time he came over, until you realized it was a front that he just needed time to shed. "Didn't you say last time that you have the original Jaws DVD?"
"What if we watched The Empire Strike Back?" Spencer asks timidly from under a slew of blankets that Penelope has covered both of them with. His nightly ritual involves suggesting one of his favorite movies, even though it always gets immediately shot down. 
Derek chuffs, snagging some of the blanket from off your lap. "Maybe another night, kid."
"I don't care what we watch," Penelope sighs as she pulls open a bag of popcorn and chucks a handful into her mouth, "as long as it isn't sad." That's her only request. Nothing sad, please. Your nightly ritual is like a practiced dance. Each of you playing your parts, reciting your lines the same way, keeping it familiar. Establishing a routine.
You stand up, taking your cue, and grab a random DVD from your cabinet. Ten minutes later, you're all watching The Empire Strikes Back, and Spencer cracks something that looks like a smile for the first time since before the funeral.
You watch the movie in silence, and when the credits roll, you watch the names scroll over the screen as you muster up the energy to find the remote. When you finally click the TV off, the silence feels suffocating, and you hear Penelope sniffle from next to you.
Throwing your arm around her shoulder, you all squish yourselves together, like the pressure will keep the emotions in. 
After a long pause, Spencer is the first to speak. "It'll get better, right?" 
"It has to," Derek sighs, his chin falling to his chest as he takes in a deep breath. You know him well enough to be able to translate his exasperation into anguish, even as he tries to hide it.
"It will get better." You glance around the couch at your friends - the people who have been here for you through all of it - and nod your head, choosing this moment to really believe it. "It will."
***
It doesn't.
A week later, you are storming into Aaron's apartment after he dropped Jack off to stay with Jess, your words already pouring out even before he can shut the door behind you.
"How could you take the assignment?"
Your tone is laced with malice, but he can still hear the hurt underneath.
"How could you leave us here after everything that happened?"
This time the pain is clearer. Your voice breaks at the end and he steps forward to do something, but you twist your body away.
His hands fall hopelessly back to his sides and he doesn't know how to explain this to you, when he can't even explain it to himself.
"Strauss left your brief in the conference room." Your words are stronger now, and he looks up, his eyes squinting with anticipation. "You've known about this since before the new year."
You're right. He's known about the prospect of this assignment for almost a year, and then after, when it became a real possibility, he still chose not to tell you. Maybe before, he had the excuse that you weren't speaking to him, but after Emily...he doesn't have a leg to stand on.
"Why wouldn't you tell us?" you ask, the anguish coming forward in full force. "We need you here. Jack needs you. I need you."
He needs you too. But he also needs to stop hurting you. And he can't see that happening while he's still here.
"I'm sorry," he whispers softly. I love you, I'm sorry.
You let out a sigh and your shoulders fall, like you've lost all of the fight within you. You look so defeated, and it feels worse than when you were yelling at him. 
You're right here, but you feel so far away, like he's looking at you through tinted glass.
"Fine," you say after a beat. "Call me when you're leaving."
Your shoulder brushes his as you whip past him, and he doesn't muster up the courage to speak again until you're already gone.
***
The call comes soon. Too soon.
You meet him at his apartment, and Jack immediately gives you a hug before latching himself back onto his father. You don't know what Aaron told him, given how you don't even know how long he's going to be gone, but you can't imagine it was helpful to a six year old boy who only understands that his father is leaving for a long time.
"I called Jess to pick him up," Aaron explains in a hushed whisper as Jack runs out to get his shoes, "but she's busy until the afternoon."
"That's okay," you say, crossing your arms in front of you. It's a defensive maneuver that's about all you can muster up right now. "I can drop him off at her house after we get you out of here."
You try to say it lightly, but your tone sharpens at the end, making him flinch. You sigh, an apology in itself, because you're trying so hard to be supportive. You know you're mad at him - no matter how hard you try not to be - but this isn't the time to show your anger.
Jack comes back into the living room, and you usher the young boy out the door as Aaron lugs his duffel bags behind you and out to the car. The drive is mostly silent, and Jack doesn't say a word until you help him out of his carseat and onto the tarmac at the base. 
"I'm gonna miss you, Daddy," he whispers, his little hands reaching up to grab his father's hand. "Come home soon."
Aaron picks him up and squeezes him in a big hug, before setting him back down on the ground. He looks at you then and you shrug, pressing your lips together. "What he said."
"I don't know how long this is going to take," he says, mostly directing his words at Jack, even though he keeps glancing at you out of the corner of his eye. "Probably a few months though."
A few months. That shouldn't feel as long as it does. 
"Bye buddy," he says then, kneeling down to hug his son again. "Go sit in Y/N's car so I can talk to her about some grown up stuff for a minute."
Jack bounces back to where your car is parked, and you watch him get in before turning back to look at Aaron. There's a resoluteness in his expression that shouldn't surprise you, given how driven he is by his sense of duty, but it still catches you off guard.
"You'll be okay there?" you ask, needing to get that out of the way before the rest of it.
He nods, before inching his hand forward to brush against yours. It's a small gesture, but you're not ready yet.
"I'm still angry," you whisper, pulling your hand back slightly. "I don't want to be, because you're leaving, and I want you to have a clear head out there, but I can't help it."
"It's okay," he says softly, his brow furrowing.
"No," you sigh, shaking your head. Your throat is thickening with the threat of tears and you don't want to cry in front of him now either, but there are too many emotions swirling around your brain to keep any of them straight. "I'm not really mad, okay. I know you're trying to do the right thing, but she's gone, and the team is not okay right now, and I need to find a way to handle it on my own."
I can't do it by myself, you want to say. I'm in love with you and you're making it seem so easy to leave me here to shoulder the burden of everyone's grief.
"I'm sorry," he says again, his voice softer this time. 
You're so much better than me, he thinks as he watches you stand so stoically before him. I love you and I can't bear to see you in pain when I'm part of the reason why.
"It's okay," you repeat after a beat. Then you reach forward and take his hand, like he tried to do earlier. His hand is warm and calloused, and it feels rough against your palm, but it grounds you, tethering you to this moment. "I'll see you when you get back."
He nods, before pulling you forward gently into a hug. Your chin tilts up to sit on his shoulder and he squeezes you to him once before letting you go.
When he lifts his bags and walks toward the loading ramp, Jack leaps out of the car and grabs your hand as you both wave goodbye.
He flashes you both one last smile before waving back and disappearing into the plane.
***
The first month is the easiest. You let the futile anger take over; let yourself pretend that you don't actually miss him. 
Seeing Jack and Jess makes it less painful, and you slowly find yourself spending more time with them than at home. Jess tries to spend time with Jack at Aaron's apartment to help him maintain a stable environment, but with his father gone, it doesn't help you notice the absence less.
"He's not eating as much," Jess mentions to you one night after she puts him to bed and joins you out in the living room. At first, being at his place without him felt intrusive, but you've gotten used to being there. "He was picking at his food all through dinner."
"I noticed that," you agree as you pat the spot beside you on the couch. "I'm sure it's just a picky eating phase. Once he settles back into a routine with you it should be fine."
"With us," she corrects with a small smile. "I need all the help I can get, and I really appreciate you being here so often."
"Oh, honey, of course." You give her forearm a squeeze before grabbing both of your empty glasses from the table and taking them to the sink. "I was worried I was becoming more of a burden on you by being here so much, but I'm glad it's welcome company."
"Always," she says, tucking a loose curl behind her ear. You set the glasses down and turn back to see her staring at the tiny picture frame of her and Haley on her counter. "She always made it look so easy."
You nod, not wanting to interrupt her moment. After a beat, Jess releases a heavy sigh and shakes her head. "She was the perfect mother. If I can be half as good of a caretaker for Jack as she was, I'll know I'm doing something right."
You smile unconsciously, remembering a moment from years ago. "I swear Aaron said the exact same thing once. He was upset about leaving work late again when they first had Jack, and I had to assure him that he wouldn't miss every childhood milestone just because he had to work late once in a while."
He was so terrified of being anything like his father. You tried your best to show him how impossible that was, but those are the kinds of things people have to learn on their own.
Jess looks down, deep in thought, and your phone chimes then with a new message. It's from Derek: Hotch sat phone call, 15 mins
"Jess," you whisper, getting her attention again. "Aaron is scheduled to call us over the satellite phone in a little bit. I'm gonna go into the office to see if I can talk to him. Is there anything you want me to tell him?"
She thinks for a moment before shaking her head. "Just that Jack and I are doing well. And we miss him."
You nod and press a kiss to her cheek before grabbing your coat and driving over to the field office. The sky is dark by the time you arrive, and it feels foreign to walk into an empty bullpen. The team has shrunk so much since he left, and lately it's just been you, Spencer, Derek, Rossi, and Penelope around here.
You knock on Aaron's office door once before stepping inside.
"Sounds good," Derek is saying as you shut the door behind you. "Yeah, keep us updated." He sees you then and beckons you closer before turning back to the phone. "Y/N's here. I'll hand it to her."
You take the phone from him and tentatively press it to your ear. There's a slight buzzing sound and when he says "Hello?", his voice sounds far away.
"Hi," you say softly, turning your back to Derek for some semblance of privacy, but he has already pulled out his phone and started typing something. "How are you?"
"I'm okay," he says, sounding slightly distracted. "It's really busy over here. How are yo- you all doing? Jack and Jessica?"
"They're good," you tell him, hoping he can't hear the tightness in your voice over hearing his for the first time in weeks. "They really miss you. We all do."
"I miss you guys too." 
You hear some muffled voices on the other end of the line, and you jump in with your questions before he gets called away. "Any updates I can ask about? Like when you'll be done."
"Not right now," he says with a sigh. "It's still need-to-know."
"Right," you whisper rigidly, even though it's not fair. He's trying his best, and he's doing what's right, but you keep punishing him. Because of your own feelings, your brain adds at the end. 
"It's protocol," he says, even though you're both well aware of how this works.
"I know," you sigh, your fingers gripping the phone tightly. "I have to go back to Jess's."
"Y/N, wait-" he starts, but you are already handing the phone back to Derek.
He takes it uncertainly, but you just shake your head and exit the office.
***
"Did you watch the other movie I gave you?"
You whip your head around to look at Spencer, who is looking at you intently. You had been staring at Aaron's office door for the better part of the last hour.
You frown apologetically. "Not yet, Spence." He had loaned you his DVD of one of his favorite Star Wars movies, and each time you tried watching it, you were just reminded of the immediate aftermath of losing Emily. "I'll find time soon, though."
"That's okay," he shrugs as you inadvertently glance up at the door again. "I know it isn't everyone's thing. I just thought you seemed to enjoy the one we watched at the movie night."
"I did," you assure him, reaching out to pat his hand. "I promise I just haven't found time yet."
He smiles at you, and you return it before your eyes dart up to Aaron's office door at the sight of movement. A small, unrealistic part of you expects Aaron to emerge, but it's Derek instead. Derek took over his office a month after he left to Pakistan, because the secure line was already set up.
"He has a lot on his plate these days," Spencer says, drawing your attention back. He's watching Derek speak to someone at the top of the stairs, his forehead crinkled with stress.
"We're down quite a few hands," you nod, pursing your lips. "Maybe we can convince Derek to bring JJ back permanently."
Spencer lights up and you can't help but grin too. "We definitely should."
***
The cases start piling up, and you welcome the distraction as the passing months begin to weigh on you. The whole team has been under a lot of pressure from the brass, and Strauss has been hinting at a prolonged assignment in Pakistan that may take up even more of his time.
After a particularly grisly case, you invite Penelope over to unwind with some wine and chatting. It doesn't escape your notice that you're missing half of your usual girls' night attendees, but you keep the wine flowing, and soon you aren't focusing on anything other than the new guy Penelope met at her grocery store.
"He's so sweet," she gushes as she leans over the table to grab another chip. You're both sitting on the floor of your living room, and you reach out hastily to steady her glass as it gets precariously close to spilling over. "And I think it says a lot that he shops at such a high quality grocery store."
"Oh, absolutely," you nod, lifting your own glass in a mock salute. "You can tell a lot about a man by how he eats."
"Tell me about it," she sighs, her words starting to slur. Maybe opening the second bottle was too much. "I once dated a guy who only ate protein bars and steak."
Your face twists in disgust, and you set your glass down, feeling the rush of tipsiness hit you. "That's definitely not a balanced diet."
"I tried to tell him," Penelope says, before her face falls into a sad frown. "I really tried."
"Okay, okay," you say, trying to change the subject as her eyes fill with drunk tears. "Back to the grocery store man."
Her face breaks into a wide smile comically fast and you let out a high laugh. "He's so sweet. He really is just the sweetest guy."
"So I've heard," you grin, taking another sip of wine.
Turns out your last glass was one too many, because an hour later, after sending Penelope off in a cab and clearing away your dishes, you're still feeling the buzz from earlier.
Your face feels comfortably warm and you grab your phone from the counter, with the intention to call Emily, when you suddenly remember-
Your smile falls in an instant and tears are rushing forward before you can clearly form a coherent thought. You drop the phone and rush upstairs to take a hot shower to wind down and calm yourself, but even as the burning water washes over you, you still feel wound tight, like your emotions are trapped inside of you.
She was the first person you would always call after a tipsy night, and now she's gone. 
Everybody's gone.
JJ, Emily, Aaron. Aaron.
A sob chokes out and you press your hand over your mouth, your body caving forward under the billowing steam fogging up the glass. You miss him so much, it's like you're not even yourself anymore. 
You let out another soft sob as the water begins to calm you down, but you can still feel the echoing hollowness inside of you. You wish he was here, holding you, telling you it would all be okay. That you didn't ruin everything by pushing too hard, too fast. That you love him and he loves you, and it can all be perfect again. 
"It'll be okay," his voice whispers from behind you, and suddenly he's there. Not really, but with your eyes closed and your mind still foggy, it almost feels real. "I'm sorry I left. I should've been here."
"You should be," you gasp out as his arms close around you from behind, holding you tightly under the soothing warmth of the water. "You left me."
"I know," he says, his breath tingling the sensitive spot behind your ear. "I'll never leave again. I promise."
"You promise," you whisper, mostly to yourself, as you turn around. His lips glide over your shoulder and up your neck, and suddenly his mouth is on yours.
You gasp as his hands slide down your body, his fingers gently caressing the sides of your breasts as he makes his way to your waist. His lips are so soft against yours and when his tongue runs along the seam of your mouth, you moan loudly, letting him swallow up the sounds.
He feels so real under your hands as you trace the jagged scars along his abdomen, and when his tongue glides down your-
You sit up with a gasp, your head pounding with the beginnings of an oncoming wine hangover. Your sheets are messily strewn around you, and your skin is sticky with sweat, but you can't bring yourself to get up. You take a large gulp of water from the glass on your nightstand and check the time: 3:02 AM.
Falling back with a huff, you run a hand over your face and fruitlessly try to sleep through the rest of the night.
***
Summer brings its own set of struggles.
The heat makes each case feel ten times longer than it already is, and with September fast approaching, Jack gets more and more antsy about starting school for the first time.
"He's been shut in his room all day," Jess sighs over the line as you make yourself coffee with your phone pressed between your shoulder and ear. "I think he's sad that he's starting school without either of his parents here."
Your heart breaks as you imagine Jack alone in his room, waiting and wishing for his dad to come back in time for his first day of school. Then an idea pops into your head.
"I think I know what to do."
An hour later, you, Jess, and Jack are waiting in line, under the beating sun, to get into the Smithsonian's zoo. Even tho you can already feel the sweat starting to drip down your back, Jack looks downright giddy, so you take the win.
When you finally get inside, he makes a beeline for the monkey exhibits, and you and Jess meander along behind him, chatting about her new side gig.
"I'm starting the part-time job in the fall," she explains as you stop behind Jack at the front of the chimpanzee enclosure. "It works out with the start of the school year, in case Aaron is gone for a while longer."
"That sounds great," you smile, giving her a small side squeeze. "You deserve something to take your mind off of everything too."
She shrugs, ever the neutral party, before looking at you with a smirk. "I hear there are some changes happening at the BAU as well?"
"Right!" you grin, following Jack to the next exhibit. "JJ was helping out temporarily, but she's officially back on the team. She also mentioned to me that she might be considering enrolling in profiler training so she can be a full-time field agent."
"Good for her," Jess smiles. "Lord knows you guys could use some extra manpower right now."
It's right then that your phone chirps with a text from Derek saying that Aaron is calling in again this afternoon. The urge to speak to him for the first time in weeks tugs at your gut, but then you glance over at Jack, who looks happy for the first time in just as long, and before you know it, you're typing back your response: Not today. Busy with Jack.
***
The next time Aaron calls in, you don't have an excuse. 
You're at work, scribbling out the last few lines of your latest case report, when Derek tries to call you into his office. You haven't spoken to him in over a month, and he's asked for you each time he called, but still you refuse.
"Y/N, come on," Derek chuffs, running a hand over his face. "You know he wants to talk to you. He's by himself over there."
That's what gets you. By himself. As though you aren't alone too. As though you hadn't been completely fucking alone when, over the weekend, you found a pair of socks Emily must have forgotten at your place months ago, and had a full body breakdown on the floor of our foyer. 
Each time you're close to forgetting that he left you here to fend for yourself, it comes back in full force, and right now, you would rather do just about anything other than put on a neutral face and ask him how he's doing over there.
"Next time," you say, hoping the finality comes across in your tone. It must have worked, because although Derek shakes his head disappointedly, he doesn't ask again. 
When you go to Aaron's place after work to see Jack, Jess pulls you aside, a worried look on her face. 
"We spoke to Aaron yesterday," she explains, her arms crossed over her chest. The bureau set up a secure line for them so she and Jack could speak to him periodically. "He seemed to be doing well."
"That's great," you say with a nod, unsure of why she's updating you when she thinks you spoke to him today. "Is everything alright?"
"Yeah, yeah," she says, waving away your concern. "I told him about Jack starting school in a few weeks, and about my new job. Then when I mentioned you - how you've been coming here a lot - he looked really happy that you were involved, but...he sounded off for the rest of the call."
Your shoulders tense up and you try to relax, so as not to give yourself away. "Damn Jess, they should make you a profiler."
She says your name sternly, and you can hear the Haley in her voice. "I'm serious. Have you guys not been speaking?"
"It's okay," you say, shaking your head. "I just need some more time, but I'll talk to him soon."
She twists her lips into a sad frown and you sigh, not knowing what to say, but she beats you to it. "He misses you...and I can tell you miss him."
You don't have an answer that she will want to hear, so you stick with the usual. "I'll talk to him next time."
***
"Do I have to go?"
Jack's bottom lip juts out in a sad pout as you adjust the straps of his little backpack on his shoulders. 
"It's your first day of school, bud!" Jess is trying to sound excited, but you can hear the sadness in her voice too, now that she won't have Jack all hours of the day anymore. "It's an exciting time!"
"You got this, baby," you smile, pressing a loud kiss to the top of his head. "Your dad is so proud of you."
"Your mom would be too," Jess adds with a sad smile. "Now go on in, Jack. I'll be right here waiting for you when the last bell rings."
He considers this for a moment, before nodding. Then he looks at you. "What about you?"
"I have to work," you say softly, matching his pout and making him let out a small giggle. "But you can tell me all about your first day when I see you this weekend, okay?"
"Okay," he nods, before grabbing the straps of his backpack and marching toward the front door.
"There he goes," Jess says wistfully, linking her arm through yours.
You let out a small sigh before shooting her a smile. You love him so much, and you're so glad you get to be here as he grows up, but you're so sad that Haley is gone and he's missing out on this moment. "They grow up so fast."
***
The next time Aaron calls in, you're talking to Dave in his office about his latest cabin trip. He is filling you in on the species of fish that live in the lake behind his place when Derek walks in with the notification that Aaron is on the other end of the line in his office.
Dave nods, saying he'll speak with him at the end, and Derek almost skips over you until you follow him out the door.
"You sure?" he asks as you follow him up the stairs.
You nod, bracing yourself for the guilt as you pick up the sat phone. "Hello?"
"Morgan?" Aaron asks, his voice confused over the line. 
"No," you say, shaking your head even though he can't see you. "It's me."
There's a moment of silence before he clears his throat. "Oh, I'm glad you could come in."
You say something that sounds like "of course" and suddenly he can hear his heartbeat in his ears. He hasn't heard from you in weeks, and even though he's probably coming home soon, he's so happy to hear your voice he could cry.
"Jess said you were there for Jack's first day," he says slowly, trying to find his voice. "Thank you for doing that. I know it's a lot before coming into work."
"It's not," you say genuinely, momentarily alleviating all of the anxiety he has been having around missing everything in his son's life. "He's the perfect kid. I'm lucky to be a part of his life."
He closes his eyes, wishing with every fiber of his being that he was there with you right now, and not thousands of miles away. "Thank you."
"Any time."
There's silence for a few moments before your breath stutters. "Do you know when you're coming back?"
His heart cracks at the soft sadness in your voice, but he still isn't allowed to share anything that is strictly need-to-know. "I don't."
Your breath catches in your throat and he hears the quiet sob as it breaks over the line. "I miss you, Aaron."
His fingers grip the phone so tightly he's afraid it may shatter in his hands, but there's nothing else tethering him to his life back home. This metal box is the one thing that is keeping him alive out here, and even though he left home so that he could stop lying to you, he's still doing it.
That's why he swallows thickly and says the one thing he knows isn't a lie: "I miss you too."
***
The team got called into the office for an emergency that no one has explained to any of you, and you take a seat in the briefing room as everyone else files in, matching looks of confusion all around you.
"Anyone know what we're doing here?" Dave asks as he leans back in his chair.
You're about to shrug when a figure walks into the room in a dark blue button down and an unfamiliar scruffy beard.
Your eyes widen and your breath leaves your body as you start to stand up, but then he motions for you all to take a seat, so you sink back down. He glances at everyone in the room before his eyes finally land on you. You can't believe he's here. That he knew he was coming back and still didn't tell you.
"What's going on?" Derek asks, breaking your eye contact with a jolt. "Everything all right?" Aaron ignores him. "Seven months ago, I made a decision that affected this team. As you all know, Emily had lost a lot of blood after her fight with Doyle."
You don't know why he's bringing this up again but then he continues. "The doctors were able to stabilize her and she was airlifted from Boston to Bethesda under covert exfiltration."
Your heart falls. No, there's no way. "Her identity was strictly need-to-know. And she stayed there until she was well enough to travel. She was reassigned to Paris where she was given several identities, none of which we had access to, for her security." Your teammates break their silence at the same time. 
"She's alive?"
"But we buried her..."
You're still unable to suck in a big enough breath to regain the ability to speak, but then another figure walks in and you suddenly understand what people mean when they say their heart skips a beat.
"Oh my god," Penelope whispers from behind you as your feet unconsciously carry you forward and toward her. Toward Emily.
You pull her into your arms, relishing the feeling of your friend hugging you back after you thought you would never see her again. Her arms squeeze you tightly and you suck in a shuddering breath, trying to calm down your heart rate.
She's alive. Emily's alive. Aaron's back and Emily's alive.
The thoughts ping pong around your brain, fighting for dominance, but another one buried deeper in your mind floats to the surface, refusing to be ignored.
He lied.
TAGLIST:@citrusiove, @yiiiikesmish, @mdanon027, @alice-w0rld, @beata1108, @bakugocanstompme, @raely-study, @himboelover, @hermionegalathynius, @rousethemouse, @calif0rniadreamin, @tolerateit13, @delusional-13s-blog, @madesavage05, @littlemisskavities, @love13tter, @domithebomi, @guacam011y, @averyhotchner, @silver-studios, @whosmys, @mimi-sanisanidiot, @chronicallybubbly, @shilphy87
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hotchs-big-hands · 28 days
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“Mhmm, that’s it… fuck. So good for me, taking me so well, angel…”
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beelmons · 9 months
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I have a filthy idea and I love your blog sorry
Hotch x reader x Early seasons!Spencer (or really any older BAU with reader and Spencer, someone has to show him the ropes, right?😩)
Reader is bound and blindfolded. Hotch is trailing a popsicle over reader's skin, showing Spencer where they are most sensitive and Spencer licks the trail of sticky syrup left behind. 🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️(lord have mercy I'm a whore)
A/N: Ok so, i really got into this idea and i ended up doing WAY too much and i'm sorry it's so late but i got too excited. anyways, have this monstruosity.
A different kind of teacher
cw: sensory deprivation (hand binding, blindfold, noise-cancelling headphones), threesome, temprature play (use of frozen goods), fellatio, fem!reader, implied polyamory i guess
word count: 1,996 (on accident)
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"I don't think that's—" Spencer tried to interrupt when his boss's actions got questionable.
"It's alright." Hotch answered as he gently tied the blindfold behind your head "She's done this before. I told you, if you’re going to learn how to please her, you’re going to do it my way."
"But that's—" he tried to argue again.
"Reid." Aaron said commandingly.
Their bickering was rather amusing, really. Everything about this situation was. A love-struck puppy, namely Spencer, that had found  out you were having an affair, for a lack of a better word, with your boss. Who was later given the odd offer to join in, one that he barely comprehended the dynamic of. The one he ended up accepting because having half of you was better than having none.
The situation in question was no other than your bare body binded to a sex sofa, yes, the one with a funny oval-like shape, in the middle of a street motel. Mind you, a high category one, courtesy of a very spoiling unit chief. Hands tied behind the furniture, a blindfold securely tied against your eyes, and a pair of sound-canceling headphones that would be eventually put on you. 
“I don’t think I can do this.” the younger man confessed. 
His superior shot him a glare, and his finger raised to press against his own lips, indicating the other to keep quiet. He then proceeded to place the aforementioned gadget against your ears to muffle the sounds. 
“You can’t let your nerves overtake you.” Aaron began to talk, walking closer to the chair where Spencer was sitting “Otherwise, you won’t enjoy yourself. And believe me, she wants you to have as much fun as she does.” 
“I just have never done something remotely similar.” he admitted. 
“And that’s okay, that’s why I’m here to guide you.” Hotch patted him on the shoulder, prompting him to stand up, to which Reid complied. 
As the older man directed himself to the cooler, included with the room by the way, Spencer stood awkwardly next to where you were laying. Regardless of his statements about the situation, the twitching of his dick as he watched you breathing, rather heavily, blissfully ignorant of the sinful deeds they were about to do to you, was giving away just how much into it he was. 
“You should learn to use your tongue first.” the boss interrupted his train of thought “We’re going to do a little exercise, okay? I’ll trail this over her skin, her most sensitive spots. Clean her up. You have to be thorough, she doesn’t like feeling sticky.” 
You were absolutely deprived of such supportive conversation, or anything else for that matter. It was exciting in and on itself to be expectant of what would happen next, along with no indication whatsoever of what that would be. Two, insanely hot, men having you at their entire disposal was certainly arousing. 
Such anticipation caused you to moan rather loudly when you felt a cold object hit the side of your neck, slowly melting down towards the base, the feeling only lasted a couple of seconds since it was shortly after contrasted with the warm sensation of what you figured was a tongue following the strip. 
It was quick. It left your skin as soon as it came.
The lack of attention, though, would not last long. You felt a new sting of coldness, only this time it was right over your breast; instead of dripping down, the same tool, whatever it was, moved downwards until it reached your nipple. You could feel it going slightly numb from the temperature, it was making your stomach tighten. Again, you felt it part and something a lot hotter took its place. This time, you could easily tell who was taking advantage of your breasts by the bony structure of the fingers. 
Spencer was ravishing on the sweet taste of the icicle mixed with the salty notes of your sweat. His tongue was eager and clumsy, but pleasurable nonetheless, his fingers gentle and attentive to the sides of the skin, holding back to not let his animalistic side just come out. 
“That’s good.” Hotch praised the young man “It’s all about not knowing what to expect. About surprising her with sudden pleasure.” 
Back in your deprived state, you were simply squirming with delight at how your chest was being treated, mouth slightly agape to allow soft sounds of pleasure to escape. The gap was tempting for one of the men, still unknown to you, to defile, and suddenly you felt something land over your lips. You recognized the mixture of freezing water and sugar, and your tongue instinctively darted out to take a lick. 
The treat instead began to lewdly penetrate your mouth, simulating a fellatio, and the length of it would teasingly near the back of your throat each time. 
The icicle departed promptly, leaving your lips parted and tingly from the coldness, expectant to be inserted again. Instead, the temperature of the new foreign object was the complete opposite, its structure soft to an extent, and salty in flavor. It didn't take you long to notice it was no longer the sugary dessert, but one of your partners' cock.
"Go slow at first, it takes her a second to get used to it." Hotch dragged a hand behind your head, pushing forward gently so you could get more of his shaft into your mouth “But she can take it very well.” 
His fingers trailed over your scalp lovingly. His moans were translated in heavy, airy exhales through his nose. He was obviously playing tough for Spencer, no matter how much your mouth actually disarranged him on the daily. He thrusted a couple more times, until he was fully hard, before he pulled out. 
He made a signal with his hand to indicate the younger to take over, and Reid swallowed back a knot of nervousness. He awkwardly cupped your head between his palms and allowed his tip to testingly land on your tongue. He shuddered with pleasure as your lips hungrily wrapped around it, hollowing your cheeks almost immediately. 
You could tell the member had changed simply by the shape. Leaner girth, more swollen head, and an almost desperate way of moving. He started doubtfully at first, and later his pace began to pick up. His grip on your head was tight, making you unable to move away, and with every push he would reach deeper into your mouth, and the pulsations on his veins would also have a stronger beat. 
Spencer was losing it, mouth parted open, head thrown back, desperate whines spilling from his throat. His inexperience was his biggest enemy, because he didn’t last much inside of you. When he started to feel his orgasm coming, he decided to pull away. His fist curled around his shaft, pumping the base at a rapid speed, his tip pointing to his own stomach, since, to him, coming inside your mouth seemed dirty, almost too humiliating. 
Hotch stared with amusement at how respectful he was being, rookie mistake, he figured. Too overwhelmed with his own pleasure, Spencer had his eyes fully shut, and became absolutely unaware of the second Aaron gently placed his fingers over the moving hand, pushing it down to aim the tip towards your mouth. 
You simply waited for the inevitable, the white strings landing on your tongue, salty and thick, and a lot more than you had expected. When you were sure no more would come out, you attempted to swallow, but before you could close your mouth a thumb invaded it, keeping it open. 
“Watch this magic trick.” Aaron showed Spencer the evidence of his release before shutting your mouth again. 
You took the hint and swallowed, immediately opening your mouth once again to show no trace of the substance left. 
Spencer had to bring a hand to his face to hide his blush, although his again half-hard dick gave him away. 
“That’s actually really hot.” he said shyly, brows furrowed in embarrassment. 
“It is.” Hotch smiled in his direction “Now that you’ve come, it’s just natural to return the favor, don’t you agree?” 
The older man directed himself again to the cooler, taking now a single ice cube that he held with a piece of clothing to avoid getting frostbite. 
“Your training isn’t over yet.” he told Spencer once he was back to your side “Next, let’s get you a real challenge. If one drop of this cube gets on the sofa, you don’t get to touch her the rest of the night.” 
“W-What? Isn’t that a bit harsh?” he complained. 
“If you make her cum before it fully melts,” Hotch ignored the protest “You can fuck her first.” 
Again, your senses were too limited to hear their bet being formed. During their exchanges you just waited patiently, eager to know what would come next. Every once in a while, when the cool air hit you, you tensed up expecting something to happen, and even when it didn’t you just got more excited. 
At last, another sting of coldness hit your skin, this time it was further to the south, just above your clit. You could feel the object slowly melting, the lack of heat spreading to your bundle of nerves, your labia, and almost to your entrance. It was mildly uncomfortable, but exciting nonetheless. 
Out of a sudden, you felt a muscle enter you. You bolted in ecstasy due to finally getting much needed friction on your lower body. It trailed up, slowly and steady, until it reached the top. The lips rounded your sensitive nub, and you could feel them suck on it. The sensation was overwhelming, making you twist over the sofa, shameless erotic moans filling up the room. 
The water kept making its way down your sex, and the tongue diligently prevented it from reaching all the way to the leather, driving you insane with each lap at it. Your hands struggled against the binds that tied you down. You wanted nothing more than to hold his head down and bury it against you, to have him flush against your entrance, just licking you over and over again. 
A hand landed on your head, indicating that you should keep your movements to yourself. The commanding ambience just added to your stimulation, the mouth down your body sucking the neverending stream of water as if trying to lick it dry. Your thighs attempted to close around his head, and you were finally able to grind against him. For some reason, that did it for you, and you allowed your climax to reach you, and your fluids to come out. 
“Impressive.” Hotch praised as he removed the ice cube from your body. 
Spencer, however, did not stop, his tongue moving ruthlessly against your entrance, absolutely drunk on your taste. Aaron could see you squirm uncomfortably, being pushed to a point of overstimulation, hands restlessly clinging onto nothing in an attempt to release the slight pain on your abused clit. 
“Reid.” he called trying to make him stop; the younger man, however, was entranced by your pussy, and did not react to the mention of his name. Hotch was forced to step closer, tangle his fingers on the blond’s hair, and pull his head back by tugging on his locks, forcing him away from you “Behave. There’s plenty of time for more later.” 
He spoke so sternly that it sent shivers down Spencer’s spine, almost as he did during work cases. He nodded with compliance and straightened himself again. 
“Sorry.” Reid ashamedly said. 
“It’s alright. I know how addicting it can be.” while talking, he rummaged through a go-bag he had brought earlier into the room. “Now,” he tossed a condom towards Spencer “Get ready for lesson number two.”
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uranometrias · 5 days
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✮ꜜ : ❛ long time coming : aaron hotchner x fem! reader
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pairing: aaron hotchner x bau! reader
summary: after getting hurt out in the field, you're on leave for a month. coming back felt long overdue, that is until your plans with the team lead you to a situation that feels a bit too close for comfort after such a traumatic time. what's worse, your feelings you've harbored for your boss have no choice but to come to light when he makes the odd choice to address you as 'agent' rather than your name after one month of being apart, and years and years of back and forth will-they-wont-they.
content warnings: making out. allusions to sexual assault + r4pe (but only in the context of the case). reader has slight signs of PTSD. anxiety/panic attacks. reader runs into a few pushy men while out at the club. drinking / drunk confessions. reader has a crush on her boss, it is also implied that reader finds derek attractive, and he reciprocates these feelings. hotch is very good at calming reader down. no usage of y/n. reader is described as having shoulder length hair (can be read as a wig/weave) angry/disappointed hotch! reader has been hiding her anxiety / nightmares / memory issues from the team. mentions of vomiting. kissing. mentions of elle & the events of the fisher king. no distinct timeline, but can be read as s7 with the iconic team (hotch, emily, derek, jj, penelope, rossi, & spencer)
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"Okay, I didn't know we were going all out. I would've prepared better." you smile shyly as Jennifer pulls you into a tight hug. When Penelope had called you early that morning with an excited decree that you'd been cleared to return to work you hadn't been sure how to feel. You hadn't bothered to ask how Garcia of all people was privy to information you hadn't received from your bosses yet, there was no getting a straight answer when it came to the Technical Analyst.
It had been her idea for the entire team to get together. You'd been out of the office for a full month, and in that time you'd tried your hand at maintaining your bonds with the rest of the group. It of course wasn't the same, but you knew that you'd needed the time. The last time you'd joined them on a case things had gone horribly wrong. You shudder at the thought, you had been doing so good at forgetting about it all, but seeing them again made it all come back.
The unsub had been your run-of-the-mill anger excitation rapist, a creep that had been using an elaborate ruse to entice and entrap women. It had been Emily's idea for the two of you to go undercover, the unsub had been killing two women every week, women who in many ways were polar opposites of one another, a trait that you and Emily shared. Long story short, in the midst of your plan to lure and trap the Unsub, you'd been separated from Emily and cornered.
You’d been carted off by the creep who kept you stuck for three hours before the team used his mistake to find you. By then though, the damage had been done. You remember the look on Rossi's face when he and Hotch came busting in, and found you looking bruised up with a bloody face, and a gun barrel to the side of your head. You'd never seen Hotch quite as scared, at least not since everything with Foyet nearly three years ago when he lost Haley and almost Jack.
You'd been too out-of-sorts to hear the way they'd tried to reason with the Unsub. And you hadn't realized your abdomen was losing blood until a gunshot rang out, bullets whizzing past your head as the unsub curled into himself before falling to the ground. You didn't know much, you thought maybe your eardrums had exploded with the way they were ringing, and you'd half expected to smack your head against the ground and end up with an annoying concussion.
Instead, you'd been met with the sight of your boss. He'd yelled something you weren't privy to, mouth moving as he seemingly forced the rest of the team out of their stupor long enough to get a medic inside to look you over. It was like you said, the details were fuzzy, but nothing had managed to wipe Hotch's worried expression as he fussed over your safety, out of your mind. However, if you were honest with yourself for one measly second, that was nothing new.
Nothing seemed to fill up your mind the way your boss did, and it was stupid, and deplorable all things considered. But it's not like it had even been something you'd asked for. It just happened one day. You shake these thoughts of your near paralyzing emotions away, pulling yourself back to the present as you took in JJ, who despite her perceived candor looked great. "Oh come on Jaige." you huff, and you appraise her more openly. "You look amazing, as usual."
She grins, albeit shyly, and she's waiting, maybe for your approval maybe for something else. She's trying to be discreet as she sweeps your for obvious reminders of what happened, and you feel nervous. Most of your injuries had healed up well enough, and the scratches that littered your face had been covered in a smattering of makeup. You felt comfortable in your pretty girl cocoon, all done up with a bright smile on your face that was surprisingly believable.
"Can I hug you?" she asks, and you can tell she's been holding it in, waiting to ask. You nod your head, a quiet chuckle escaping you as the blonde seems to scoop you into her arms. She's careful not to squeeze too tight, but the love is felt all the same. "God, it's been so weird without you around." she hums, and while the rest of the team is already huddled inside, probably in a booth Penelope picked, you're so happy she's the one here telling you this now.
"Now you know how we all felt when they sent you to the Pentagon." you whisper back, and you hear her bemused giggle as she steps back, and she takes you in again. Your red minidress was a stark contrast to the usual business-casual attire you wore everyday to work. Your hair was curled, pinned back with a gold claw clip, hair just barely ghosting over the divots of your collarbones. You'd opted for a shorter do' following everything with the unsub.
"Never leave us again." she pleads, and you feel this warmth blossoming in your chest at the way she's staring at you, almost like she really means it. You'd joined the team back when Elle and Gideon had still been around. At one point you'd been the rookie, the new girl nobody knew what to expect from. JJ had been right there beside you, even back then. She had been sweet, assertive, your first real friend on the team. She'd welcomed you before anyone else.
In time of course, things had changed, JJ had a husband, kids, a hoard of other units that were plotting on her skills at all times, but she was still JJ. Still that same first friend that helped you to see the Behavioral Analysis Unit was the only place for you. "I'll do my best." you promise, and she grins. She links arms with you before you both head inside the bar. There was music playing, some alternative indie song that wasn't half bad.
"Here's the girl of the hour now." Emily exclaims, and it's clear they've already started tossing back shots. JJ's head is instantly shaking in mortification. So it was going to be one of those nights. Penelope meets you both, pulling JJ from your arms and leaning forward to kiss her on the cheek sweetly, before she's turning to you. She's got tears already brimming in her eyes, and you can't help but giggle at the dramatics of it all.
"I'm so happy to see you." she squeals, and you find yourself hugging back despite the sting of your abdomen. "You look so beautiful." she adds a second afterwards. "What are you looking to get lucky?" she asks, as she uses her hands to push you away slightly, hands resting gently on both of your shoulders. You feel your face growing hot at the implication, and you see the way she's looking at your facial expressions for a signal of your lies. Curse her proximity to profilers.
"I just wanted to look nice." you reply and Penelope lets you off the hook. She leads you to the table, and you're just in time to hear the group finish up their hellos to JJ. She's sitting next to Morgan, who's bright-eyed as he looks up at you. You find yourself fussing with your hair, playing it cool as you press your lips together, re-smearing your lipstick as you waved your hand.
You weren't sure why you felt like the new kid all over again.
"It's good to see you, pretty girl." he croons, and you grin. Morgan was flirty, had been since you met him, and if you weren't so disastrously into Hotch, you think he'd be all on your mind. Well, you know... more than he was. There had been times where you'd been partnered together, and it almost felt like the tension was going to cut you in half. Sexual tension aside though, Derek was your friend.
They all were, and despite what your mind tried to tell you as you sobbed yourself through nightmares during your break from work, they were genuinely happy to see you. "I'm glad you're okay." your eyes flit over to the youngest member of the team. Spence is looking relieved as he too looks up at you with eyes full of relief. He's next to Emily, and she's already downing another drink. She'd be complaining about a migraine the next day, you could hear her now.
"Thanks, Spence." you coo, and you offer him a wink as your eyes fall on the only present member of the team that hadn't addressed you. Rossi had made a point to send his hellos, but due to a previous standing appointment, he wouldn't be joining tonight. You couldn't hold it against him, Rossi was scoping the prairie for wife number four. He offers you a faint smile, the group instantly falling into chatter.
"H-Hey Hotch." you mumble, and he's closest to you, sitting on the outside of the booth as the rest of the team tried their hardest to pretend they weren't expecting this. He doesn't say anything for a moment, instead he takes you in. He wasn't blind, he'd seen you before, you'd always been beautiful, but there was something about you done up like this. Red dress, red lip, bold makeup, and heels that showed off your legs, and accented your model-esque posture.
It was obvious that you were still a bit nervous about being out and about, and you were out of practice with being around the team. He imagined after a bit though you'd be back to yourself. You, and the rest of the girls would be falling into a rhythm in no time. He stands to his feet, much taller than you, as you take a small step back to give him space. "It's good to see you up and about, Agent." and his voice is low, clearly as a courtesy to the bustling of conversation behind you.
"Agent?" you repeat, and the word is so foreign. It makes you take another step back, the bottoms of your Louboutin's clacking against the ground. You looked a bit hurt, but you played it off quickly. "Come on, Hotch. I think we're a little past those formalities." you chuckle awkwardly, and you find yourself looking towards the bar. Yeah, you were definitely going to need a drink. He seems to curse under his breath, but you're not sure if that's due to you, or some internal conflict you weren't privy to. You don't wait to figure it out either.
He doesn't have the opportunity to reply to your correction, because you're looking to Emily, JJ, and Garcia. "Wanna get some shots?" you ask, and you sidestep Aaron, making sure you don't look his way again, as the girls immediately exclaim their agreements. Penelope's sliding out of the booth first, Emily and JJ following her example as they head straight towards the bar. JJ's shooting you a knowing glance as she looks between Hotch and yourself.
"You coming boys?" you extend the invite to Derek and Spencer, who are quick to nod along, both men trailing after the others as they head to the counter to order more drinks. You prepare to follow after them, ready for the welcome respite from your mind swimming in circles.
"I didn't mean to offend you." you stop short, spinning on your heel to meet the gaze of your Unit Chief.
"Well you did." you reply, and your voice is small. "I've known you for almost seven years, and here you are treating me like a stranger." you mumble, and you find yourself tugging at your dress. "I mean, I know it's been a while, but geez Hotch, it's still me." you say and he winces. You're not sure what the last month has been like for the others, but you know what they've been like for you. Torturous. It's been Hell.
"I know." he says, and your eyebrow raises, unmoved by his words. "And again, I didn't mean to offend you." he promises, and he clenches and unclenches his fists by his side. "After everything that happened, I guess I just assumed you'd prefer a more professional approach." he mutters, and you scoff quietly. Classic Aaron Hotchner, running away from interpersonal conflict with his tail tucked between his legs. "You don't even seem comfortable with us tonight."
You blink. Okay well he had a point there, but you were trying.
"It's not that I'm not comfortable." you mutter, and you look over your shoulder at the rest of the team. "I guess I just didn't expect to feel so out of place being out and about." you shrug your shoulders bashfully. "Everyone's normal, everything seems the same." you continue, and you notice the way that Hotch's lips have pressed into a hard line. "And it's like no time has passed at all for anyone else, but for me it's like I never moved." you blink, shivering at the thought.
Hotch's eyebrows furrow inwardly as he takes in your words. "I still feel like I'm-" you trail off, feeling a wide lump growing in your throat. "It's like I never left." you course correct, eyes shutting briefly, lashes brushing against your cheekbones. "Like no matter how much time passes, it still feels like I'm there with him and I'm-"
"I understand." he cuts you off, you think maybe to salvage your pride or to keep you from having a panic attack at the thought. "And you're certain you're ready to come back to work? You know you can take all the time you need." he reminds you, and you are immediately nodding your head as you wave a tired hand his way.
"I can't stay cooped up in my house anymore." you mumble. "It's becoming counterproductive." you huff. "I'm ready." you add a second later. "Apart from this awkwardness, I'm also perfectly fine." and it's a lie, you'd been having nightmares every night. Restless, sleepless evenings full of dread, and jump scares of your own creation. "I mean, I'm here aren't I?" you offer a tight smile as you reach out and tap Hotch's shoulders twice, a tense little conversation ender.
You don't want to stay huddled up with him anymore, not while he was looking at you like he was trying to see into your soul. You turn on your heel, dress swishing side to side as you head for the group. You find yourself in between Emily and Penelope, the blonde to your left immediately sliding a drink in front of you. You down it in a second, the intense burn as the alcohol rested in your chest was a welcome reprieve from the anguish and anxiety you'd been feeling.
You forget about Hotch, and all your heavy feelings by the time you're on your third drink. Your heels feel much too heavy under your feet as you stumble into Emily, the brunette chuckling vibrantly as you hang off each other, the music playing overhead lulling you into a false sense of security. It was nice being like this again after so long, laughing at the dramatic banter between Derek and Penelope. You wondered if they'd remain purely platonic forever.
Trading gossip back and forth with Emily and JJ was always a treat, especially as Spencer tried to keep up with eyes wide as saucers while Emily finally cracked the secrets of her coveted Sin-To-Win weekends. You weren't sure what was funnier, the peeks into Emily's life outside the unit, or the horrified looks that crossed Spence's face with every new tidbit of knowledge he learned about his coworkers. You found your eyes flickering over to Hotch again.
He was stoic as ever, but looser than he would be in the office. He seemed to enjoy being a quiet observer much more than he preferred to be in the mix. He leisurely swirled his glass of scotch, and you felt that familiar buzz of warmth in your chest when you managed to catch him smiling as he quietly passed conversation back and forth with a newly drunk Penelope, and Derek, who looked exasperated.
"Are you just gonna stare at him all night?" you jump a bit, turning to face Emily with surprise swirling in your irises. "If you keep it up, he's gonna catch you." she adds a second afterwards and you tense, head nodding as you scold yourself. You peel away from the bar, drink clutched in your hand. You had to get away from the bar for a second, maybe the cluttered dance floor would be the best distraction.
"Sorry." you mutter, and Emily offers a airy laugh. "He's just usually so serious." you lean into Emily, who nods along. She'd met Hotch after you, but still she'd managed to become so close to him it was almost surreal. She seemed to always know what he was thinking, they were in sync. Unlike you, who seemed to always be on the other end of a hard stare from the man. For a while you just began to assume he hated your guts. Or better put, he was indifferent to your existence.
That was why his look, that look he'd given you as he cradled your head while he waited for backup had been burned into your skull. All that went out of the window the second he'd labeled you 'Agent' though. God, how stupid were you? Emily's amusement makes your eyes roll. "Can I be honest?" she asks, and you nod. Penelope and JJ have migrated to the dance floor, JJ grabbing the good doctor and bringing him along with them. He looks incredibly uncomfortable.
"Sure, Em. If you think it will help." you reply audibly.
"I haven't seen him this relaxed since everything went down." she admits, and you're surprised. As if somehow your presence had been enough to set the stone-serious man at ease. "The first few days after your accident he was a mess." she adds, and she's got a surprising about of stability to her tone to be as inebriated as she was. She lowers her voice some as she leans into you, "He showed up late." she mutters this like it's some sworn secret just meant for the both of you.
"I'm sure Strauss was just riding him about another mishap in the unit." you try, and Emily looks unconvinced and unimpressed with you. "He's our boss, it's kind of his job to worry about us." you finish.
"Yeah, I guess so." Emily concedes, and she looks like she's done talking about it, so you find yourself relaxing. "Still. I've never seen him go that hard against an unsub, maybe you're not the only person that's feeling something." she leaves you with that, trying to keep from tipping as she marched towards the group. You chuckle quietly to yourself, ignoring Emily's words as you focus on finishing your drink. It seemed you'd inadvertently been trying to be alone all along.
You felt some of the tension melt from your shoulders now that you were standing at the bar, away from those prying eyes you couldn't lie to. There's this sound of heavy footsteps, and then the clearing of a throat, as you turn to be met with the sight of a man. He looked to be about your age, cheeks and nose covered in a little smattering of freckles. He's got a head full of shaggy hair that hangs in his face. He takes a quick step, sliding up against the bar beside you.
Way too close.
"Hey." he mumbles, and you appraise him boredly. It's not like he was ugly or anything, but despite Penelope's words you were not looking to get lucky tonight.
"Hi." you offer a dry greeting, shuffling your weight from one foot to the other as the bar seemingly became a beacon for thirsty men. Just as you were politely stepping away from the freckled man, you found yourself bumping into another man who'd slithered up to the bar, your ass pressing against his crotch as his hands wound around your waist. A sleazy chuckle escapes the man's mouth as you gasp. "I'm so sorry." you exclaim, and you're quick to peel away.
You feel trapped though, there were at least four guys, they all seemed to be friends, they all seemed to be in kahoots.
There's a third and fourth man joining the fray, they all looked to be about the same age, height, and weight class. This was probably their routine: approach and overwhelm whatever drunk girl they might have happened upon. It looked like you were tonight's target. "Hey, what's the rush?" the guy closest to you drawls, and you wonder where all your years of training have gone. His arm raises, and it feels like he might hit you so you flinch way too violently.
"Stick around, we'll order the next round." the next demands, and his breath smells like booze. It stinks, and it's hot as it puffs across your face. You almost break your heels backing away from them, suddenly feeling self conscious a`nd way too vulnerable in your short dress.
"No, it's alright, really." you try, and you stumble again. "My friends are right over there." and you point in their general vicinity. "Have a great night though." you offer politely, and you're trying to make your grand escape. One guy, a shaggy blonde haired man is quick to grab you by your forearm, and it's like you're back to that day. Your bureau appointed therapist had been talking to you about your anxiety, how a range of things could become triggers and transport you mentally.
"That wasn't a question. Stay a while." You're stuck, absolutely frozen in place as your entire body tenses up. Some Special Agent you were, the bureau would be so disappointed in you. Your team would be so disappointed in you. All it took to turn you into a pile of nothing was a bit of confrontation. You could remember a stronger version of you, that girl would've had these men on their knees for even thinking of laying hands on you. God, you missed that girl.
His grip on your arm tightens, fingers digging into you harshly as you find yourself surrounded on every side.
"L-Let me go." you huff under your breath, and you crane your neck. You spot JJ, the blonde's eyes locked on yours as the reality of what's going on forces her to sober up. "I just-" and you jerk away, stumbling back completely. You're surprised you don't scream as your glass drops to the ground shattering as glass sprays in every which direction. You feel like your ankle's twisted as you fall back on your ass. You expect to feel the embarrassing thud that came with smacking your ass on the hard floor of a bar, but it never comes.
Instead you feel cocooned by a familiar scent. Strong arms are looped around you, but you suppose your lack of disgust at the action is just a testament of your comfortability. "Are you alright?" it's mumbled against your ear, and the low tone of his voice makes you shiver. All you can really offer is a tight nod as Aaron's guiding you behind him. You don't get to see Hotch in action, not when JJ, Penelope, and Emily are flocking you like Charlie's Angels.
You feel the first signs of the need to barf pricking at you, and you know that you need to get some air. You needed to breathe.
"God, are you okay?" Penelope asks, and you're not sure if you are being dramatic. I mean, it wasn't like they'd done anything really. Now you were gonna look like the freak that ruined a fun night.
"I'm sorry." you chirp, and you miss the way Jennifer and Emily share a hard glance. It's not until you're feeling brisk air whipping around your face that you realize they've taken you outside, and you haven't stopped apologizing. I'm so sorry. Penelope's got wide eyes, quickly brimming with tears as you find yourself crumbling to the ground. Your hand's quick to clutch around your chest as you try to inhale. The dramatics of it all made you even more nauseous.
You should've stayed at home.
"Hey, hey, hey..." Emily's cooing, and it seems being out like this has sliced through her tipsy stupor. She's focused just like she would be on any regular sort of day. "I need you to breathe." she instructs, and JJ's crouching down in front of you, brown eyebrows draw inwardly as she takes in your clearly frantic state. Every puff of air that escapes you is tight and sounds like it hurts. You can just barely hear the sound of a commotion taking place inside.
You do hear JJ's quiet exclamation of "I'll stay with her, go check on Hotch and Derek!" before Penelope and Emily are heading back into the packed building. She calls your name, and it takes a while for you to regain your voice. She's devoid of pity, which you appreciate. JJ knew more than anyone how much you hated being seen as a burden, or someone to be sorry for. Pride was a killer. "Can you try and take a deep breath for me?" and it's then you realize your choppy little intakes of air weren't doing you any favors.
It takes a great deal of effort for your vision to be less blurry. Your ears were full of cotton, and your head was swimming. You feel bile again in the back of your throat, and you jerk away from JJ's reach. You feel like you're suffocating, transported away from the random bar in the middle of Virginia, and back to a place you'd fought so hard to escape. You were certain you'd remember that unsub forever. His evil eyes, the way he tried to use your entrails like paint.
You remember how Elle had changed after she'd been attacked by Garner. How she had changed so much that she had no choice but to step away from the Unit. Would that be your life? You didn't want that life, but it was clear you needed something, you needed help. You couldn't focus on anything else, but what had happened. You'd ruined a night out because the act of being cornered was enough to transport you back.
JJ's still peering at you as if she's waiting for you to start panicking, and maybe you were. "I'm sorry." you huff again, and JJ's shaking her head at you.
There's a deep frown etched into her face as she sighs herself. "Stop apologizing." she insists, and your lashes are wet with unshed tears. "You didn't do anything wrong. Those assholes should've never put their hands on you." she proceeds. "You know that don't you?" she continues, and you don't know how to respond, so you don't. JJ reads you like an open book, and she smacks her teeth. "Well now you do." she says this firmly. "And I'm sure Hotch and Morgan are teaching them that lesson right now." you tense up again.
"I didn't mean to ruin the-" JJ's offering you a hard glare that shuts you up. Another bad habit you'd picked up since the incident. You were working on it, trying not to blame yourself for things you didn't cause. "I'm sorry." and this time it's not because of tonight. "I was so nervous about tonight.-" you take in a hiccupped breath. "I just wanted to prove that I could bounce back." you explain, and it's the first insight you've allowed anyone. "I figured if I pretend everything's normal, soon enough it would be, but it's too much." you huff.
"And that's okay." she promises. "What you went through isn't something anyone's expecting you to forget about in a month, alright? It's gonna take time, and there will be days where it'll hurt a lot more, and there will be days where you're feeling like your old self again." she promises. "What you need to understand is that we-" she pauses as you take it in. "are your family." she finishes, and your lips start to twitch, you're not sure if you'll smile or cry.
"I know-" you proceed, and she holds a hand up in front of you.
"Let me finish." she pleads, and you inhale before nodding. "I don't- none of us want a repeat of what happened with Elle." she says quietly. "None of us want to show up to the unit one day and see your badge and gun sitting on your desk." JJ sighs. "So if you ever start feeling anxious, or terrible, or just like you're back... there." and you wince at the mention. "I want you to call me, call one of us. Don't deal with this alone, alright? Not when you don't have to."
JJ hugs you before you have time to respond, but her words sink deep and make you feel warm inside. "Thanks, Jaige." you mumble against her hair. She squeezes you tighter, and you believe it's to make up for her shyer hug earlier.
"You're welcome." she mumbles back, and then she's pulling back. You don't have much respite, Penelope practically tackling you in a hug of her own. You hadn't even realized the rest of the team has left the bar, you were sure the mood of the night was much lower.
"I'm so glad you're okay!" Penelope exhales, and you do too, breathing fine again, save for a few hiccups that escaped you every so often. She lets you go after a beat, and you're quick to take a small step back, suddenly feeling anxious once more.
"Yeah, I'm fine now." your eyes meet Derek and Emily's. "Thank you." and you're chuckling quietly as Derek pulls you into his side. He plants a kiss on the top of your head, and you warm inwardly. Spencer does hug you, and it's a shock. One of those hugs that you never take for granted, because it could be a while before you get another. Once he's pulled away you find yourself still hovering, listening quietly as they all decide the night's not over.
You respectfully bow out, you'd had enough for one day. It's then you notice that Hotch is all by himself. You quietly excuse yourself, but you find that they're not really listening now that you were safer. "Are you alright?" you ask, and your voice is very quiet. Hotch looks up from his phone as if he's been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. You take in his face, and it's clear he's been in some sort of scuffle. Most notable due to the fact he's got blood smeared under his nose.
"I should be asking you that." he retorts, and your eyebrows furrow in.
"Y-You already did." you remind him, eyes darting away. "Why are you over here by yourself?" you shoot off a round of questions, the wind whipping around, and making you crave the comfort of your bed. You maintain a respectful balance, you weren't in any rush to be all up in someone's space.
"I think I've had enough of crowds for the night." he retorts. You don't realize until it's happened though, your hand reaching up to swipe at the blood that's slowly drying on his upper lip.
"Get into a bar fight?" you ask, and you hold your breath for the answer. Hotch looks down at you, and there's this unreadable expression on his face. You realize that this is nothing new. Hotch had never been easy to read, he was one of the greatest profilers you'd ever met, one of the greatest people. But he'd always been an enigma. His emotions were an Alcatraz all on their own.
"You should see the other guy." the classic rebuttal to a question like yours. It doesn't make you smile, mostly because he's not smiling either. "Are you okay?" and he's got you by your wrist, eyes zoned in on the harsh mark the guy from the bar had left behind. "He never should've touched you." his voice lowers, and there's an annoyance attached to his tone. "I'm so sorry." you find yourself huffing.
"You shouldn't have fought him." you say matter-of-factly. Your fists fold up at your sides, your lips pulling down into a frown. "It'll give everyone the wrong idea." you say, and you wrench your hand away from his grasp.
"Everyone?" he repeats, and he looks confused, classic Hotch.
"Me." you correct, "I'll get the wrong idea." you whisper. "I might actually think you like me." you admit quietly.
"We wouldn't want that." he replies, and his tone is far from mocking. You hate that it makes you crack a smile. You hate that he's always the one that manages to get that reaction out of you.
"Hey, are you two coming? We're all heading to Mo's." Emily calls, and you snort at the fact that their alcohol riddled mind had caused them to forget you'd already declined. You take a step away from Hotch, and you hate that you stumble. You were hating a lot of things tonight. Maybe you weren't as sober as you'd thought.
Aaron looks to you as if he's waiting to see your answer before giving his own, and maybe he was. The second you're politely explaining that you're ready to head home, Aaron is offering to drive you. Derek is whistling, Emily and JJ offering you smug little smirks. Penelope is trying to keep herself secured to Earth. "He's gonna take her home." he whispers to no one in particular, and it's a horrid attempt.
"We all heard, babygirl." Derek replies to her, and you find yourself a bit stuck. The thought of spending the eighteen minute car ride with your boss make you want to scream, but you'd taken a cab. Your own car was parked in the driveway of your place. And he doesn't look like he' taking any goodbyes either way. Rounds of goodbye and see you laters are soon offered. "Take care of our girl, Hotch." Derek calls, and you hear Spencer as he starts to rant about Derek's turn-of-phrase.
Our girl. Hotch finds that the words repeat in his head like an obnoxious echo. "Why are you doing this?" you question quietly. "If you're just trying to make up for the whole Agent thing, there's no need." you proceed, and you take a small step back.
"I'm not trying to make up for that." he replies quickly. "But, you're drunk, and you've been through a lot tonight." he reminds you as if you're ditsy or something. "It wouldn't be smart to leave you by yourself." he continues, and he inhales deeply. He watches the way you watch him, like you're unsure, like you're suspicious. "That isn't a testament of whether or not I think you can handle yourself... and neither was fighting that man at the bar." he promises, and you blink.
"No?" you ask, and your tongue feels extra dry. Like you've licked a stripe of sandpaper.
"No." he reaffirms. "You mean a lot to the team. We wouldn't be the same without you." he says this bit like he means it, and you can't find any trace of a lie residing in his face. He does mean it.
"Thank you, Sir." you reply under your breath, exhaling the word. The chill of the night finally gets to you, and you shiver.
"Can I take you home?" he asks, and you know you're reading into it more than you should. You know what he means, what he's really asking, but delusion was healthy every now and again, right?
"Y-Yeah." your head nods, voice wavering slightly as you take hold of the bottom of your dress. "Yes." you say more firmly.
"Okay." you stand there for a few moments more, passing charged glances back and forth. "You never answered my question earlier." is what he says to break the moment. "About how you were doing..." he proceeds. "I've asked you twice, and both times you-"
"Deflected?" you offer, and his head nods. "I guess I'm just scared you'll see right through whatever my answer is." you admit, and you cross your arms, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. "Emily and JJ will at least humor me." you explain. "Penelope won't ask... mostly because she's scared of the answer." you chuckle awkwardly. "Derek and Spence, well I guess they're like you too... but you're here, and they're not... so here we are."
Hotch appraises you for a second, but he doesn't say much else. You're grateful for that, but equal parts annoyed that he wasn't leaping to tell you that you were harder to read than you thought. No such luck. Still, you're surprised when Hotch grabs you by your arm, much gentler than earlier, and he's slowing his stride to be in step with yours. You don't realize you've leaned fully into his side until you feel him tense up. He doesn't say anything though.
A win is a win.
You didn't know much about the inner workings of Aaron Hotchner's mind, but you did know that if he was uncomfortable with your proximity, he would have said so. The walk back to Hotch's car is silent. At least outwardly, inside you were panicking. He opens the passenger side for you, and you imagine a world where this was normal. Where it didn't take you being hit on by sleazy men at a bar to be having these moments with Hotch. But it was impossible.
"Did it hurt?" you ask, once the car is moving. He's adjusted the temperature, a soothing warm pooling from the vents. You're surprised at how quickly he drives, you'd half expected him to be one of those slow as molasses drivers. Hotch looks over at you incredulously, his eyebrows raise, but he doesn't look agitated nor annoyed with you breaking the silence again.
"You'll have to be more specific." he replies, and you hum. You pause for a second, trying to find the right words. At the last second you decide saying it straight would be just as good as anything else.
"Punching that guy?" you ask, and Hotch's lips quirk upwards, he was amused with you. In truth, he had no idea what he was thinking. As soon as the girls had ushered you away, he'd found himself swinging before he could think of the repercussions. All he knew was that you'd sounded scared, you'd sounded unlike yourself in a way that made him angry. Everyone saw how you had changed, the elephant in the room was hard to ignore. But you were trying, he could give you that.
"No." he mumbles, and that likely has a lot to do with the fact that he hasn't come down. He's still on edge, still watching you like you might at any moment start spiraling. "Besides, it was worth it." and he says this a bit under his breath, you hear it all the same. "I doubt he'll try it again." he admits, and you feel liberated. It was nice to have someone fighting for you, fighting the fights you weren't capable of.
"Thanks, Hotch." you hum, and it triggers a yawn.
"Back to Hotch?" he asks, and you look over at him confused. You kick your feet back and forth, careful not to dig your heels into the plush of the car's floor.
"Would you prefer I call you sir?" you ask, and he is tapping on the brake, the car slowly peeling to a stop as you come up on a red light.
"No." he answers sternly. "It's not like you." he admits, and the light is turning green again. He steps lightly on the gas, the car surging forward "Especially if you're only calling me Sir, as payback for me calling you Agent." he says, and even though you had tried your hand at pretending the greeting hadn't bothered you, it was obvious he had read right through you.
"Why'd you do that?" you question and your tone is a lot more clipped than you had intended.
"So it did offend you?" he retorts, and you feel anger flaring up. You swallow this feeling, hands balling up by your side.
"Hotch." you snap, and he smirks fully, eyes back on the road. "Can you be serious, please?" you ask, and you probably sound pitiful.
"The last month I've just been..." he trails off momentarily, and you wonder if he's emotional, or just being dramatic. "I should have known better." he expresses. "I should've been there to make sure that what happened didn't." he says, and you tense up. "He never should have gotten the chance to get close enough to cart you off." he completes his thought, and you're shocked. You never would have guessed Hotch blames himself for what happened to you.
"That wasn't your fault." you promise, and you mean it. You'd never once thought of blaming Hotch for what went down. "You were confident in the plan, you were putting your faith in the team."
"There is a very thin line between confidence and arrogance." He rebuttals instantly. "We got cocky, and you suffered because of it." he looks so destroyed as he says this. "And then you showed up tonight, and tried to pretend everything was fine." he notes as you remain silent. "It just reminded me that we're too close." he tightens his grip on the steering wheel. "The longer you stay in the unit, the more you become numb to the things we see. You start to ignore the signs that you're not alright." he says, and you'd never thought of it that way.
"Hotch..." you exhale.
"I called you Agent to set up a boundary, or at least I tried." he says this like he's beating himself up. "But then I saw the way it hurt you." and he looks ashamed. "And I never want to be someone who does that to you." you're warring with your heart then. "So I wont do it again." he promises, and he looks to you briefly. "I'll call you by your name, I won't deflect." he adds as your mouth drops open just briefly.
"But, it's not right for someone your age to be so closed off. It's not right for you to pretend to be okay just to keep up with the people around you. If you weren't up to being out, you should've stayed home, our opinions don't outweigh your safety." he lectures you. "They never will." he adds a second after, and he's so sure as he says this. He's slowing down, coming up on your place.
Your leg is shaking slightly, that pesky feeling of anxiety creeping back up on you. "We're here." he says under his breath as if you weren't aware. You don't budge, you can't. You have so much to say, but where do you start. Hotch has shut his car off, almost like he too has a lot sitting on the tip of his tongue.
"I just wanted to prove I could handle it." you admit, and you're crying. "I didn't want to be another Gideon or Elle... or Spence." you cringe at the memories. "I didn't want you guys to handle with me with kid gloves. I didn't want you to see me as the girl who needs the kid gloves." you express honestly, and now your tears are falling in quick precession. "I'm sorry..." you swipe at your face. "I don't know why I'm crying, this is so stupid." you hiss at yourself.
"No, it isn't." the response earns him a surprised glance. "It's good... this is good." Hotch is quick to use a hand to swipe at your tears. He hates the sight of them, but loves what they mean. Your heart's still soft, pliable. You haven't fully succumb to the horrors of the job. "Consider this me atoning." he prompts. "You have my ear, say whatever you need to say." he looks over at you again, and seems to mentally backtrack. "If it'll help you." he adds.
You sniffle audibly, hands clenching and unclenching as the car suddenly feels much too hot. "It's not your fault, okay?" you repeat, and you say it with more certainty. "I just need you to know that." you sniffle again, but your tears keep falling, even as you try to blink them away. "Hotch, you're our leader for a reason, and you were there to save me that night, and you were here to save me tonight." you remind him. "I don't want you to pull back, not when I'm finally making some progress with cracking that hard exterior of yours."
Hotch's lips quirk at your words, and he looks down at his lap. "I've never meant to pull back from you." the inflection with the last words sticks. "I thought I was doing right by you... pulling the band aid off before you got in too deep." he says. "But that was wrong of me, I can admit to that. I'm sorry." and his apologies are like kisses. They wash over you, and force you to believe him.
"Don't apologize to me." you plead, "Just promise not to leave me behind, treat me like an outsider again." you continue as his head nods, and you can trust that he's listening.
"I can do that." he promises.
That seems to be the key to unlocking the dam of your emotions. You choke on the feelings, a quiet sob escaping you as you clasp a hand over your mouth. How dramatic, and pathetic, and God awful were all these feelings. But they'd been years in the making, right?
"Are you alright?." he asks under his breath, worry palpable.
"Do you know that the only thing that kept me from losing it that day was you?" you ask, and your boldness won't leave you, clearly it was now or never. "You told me to 'keep breathing'... you said it over and over and over, and I listened." you explain, and he remembers the day too well. "Even though everything hurt like hell, and there was so much blood." you reminisce. "And I don't know, maybe I'm just crazy, but there was this look." you exhale sadly. "This look you had on your face that made me think... 'maybe it's not just me'"
It isn't. He knows that instantly. You've plagued his mind so severely for so long that he can just barely remember a time where you weren't one of the only things he thought about, worried about, cared about. But he had his post to think about, he was the Unit Chief, your boss, your superior. What would the team think? What would Strauss think? Did it matter? In the grand scheme of things, did those worries outweigh his need, his innate desire to see you safe and protected from harm? Absolutely not. So what was the real problem?
"Hotch..." you inhale deeply, voice cracking distractingly as he gives you his full attention. Something you'd dreamed of, wanted more than anything since the first time you'd ever laid eyes on him. "Aaron." you correct, and you breathe again. "I've been thinking of how to say this... i've been rehearsing it over and over again, because I wanted to get it right, and I just knew tonight would be the night I'd have to have the balls to either say it or let it go forever." you admit.
"Say it..." and he's rushing you, but you suppose that's deserved. You were still stalling, dragging this out way more than you needed to.
"I'm in love with you." and it was out there, and you couldn't take it back. You stare him down, worried about his reaction, about how he would respond. "And it took me getting hurt, and being sent home, away from the team for me to realize." you inhale shakily. "I kept having these-these dreams about that night. All these different scenarios about how things could've turned out different, how I could've died had one thing been out of place." you process.
"You're the reason I'm still here, you're the reason why this team can function, and you're the reason why I- why I came tonight even though my anxiety told me it wasn't safe. Because, somehow I knew that as long as you were here... I'd be okay, and I am." you say, and it's a lot, too much maybe. His reaction is hard to read at first, face just as stoic as most times, but his eyes.... his eyes hold the truth. They melt, pools of warm honey dancing in the darkness residing there.
"And it's inappropriate... and wrong... and silly... but- I couldn't go another day without you knowing, without you hearing from me." you explain. "When you came up to the bar tonight I just... I've never felt this way before... lucky, protected, safe.... and-and I'm not asking for anything from you... I'm not expecting something in return, I just wanted to get it out there... I think we both know it's been a long time coming..." and your words are being swallowed as Aaron leans forward. The middle console is a bridge, a roadblock.
It doesn't deter him though, not from using a hand to gently cup your face, mouth slotting against yours as if it belonged there. You're dizzy, shocked, surprised, but you don't let this mess you up. You can't possibly allow anything to mess up this moment. Twenty, twenty-one, twenty-two... the seconds tick by with neither of you moving to break the kiss, hands and tongues and breaths fanning over one another as you get acquainted in the most perfect way.
Still, life dealt lots, and yours consisted of a need for oxygen. It's the only reason why you break apart with heady gasps, eyes dilated and fogged with emotions much too heavy to really explain. "Oh, you can't do that." you explain, and Hotch's bemused, eyebrows raising upwards, as his thumb brushes over your cheekbones.
"I can't?" he asks, and he sounds so much lighter now.
"No, you can't. I'll get the wrong idea, you know." you explain, and he smiles brazenly at your callback to earlier. "I'll actually believe you're in love with me or something." you say, and Hotch is slow as he leans back in, a peck being placed right on your lips as your eyelashes flutter, and your heart beats out of control.
"We can't have that, can we?" he's following your lead with the callback, and your cheek presses into his palm.
"I don't know." you answer, and your voice is faint. "I'm scared this'll be a dream." you proceed as Hotch's eyes scan over your frantic face. "I'll wake up and find out that this was all in my head, and the only memories I get to hold on to are from that night." Hotch's lips purse, head shaking in denial as you inhale shakily.
"No, not this time. an ambitious remark. "This time it's real." he promises. "This time I'm here with you to make sure that all those things you felt that night, and earlier by the bar, are how you keep feeling about me." he answers truly. "I'm here to love you back for as long as you'll have me. Is it alright for me to feel that way?" he asks, and your hand jumps up to keep his squished in place against your face.
"You can feel however you want." you reply, and he laughs, a full blown chuckle escaping him as his face seems to light up like a thousand suns. His eyes glisten, twinkling as he looks down at you, like everything was right in the world. And to him it was. Nothing and nobody could hurt you here.
"Good. Then I choose whatever this between you and I leads to, I choose the feelings that come with that." You smile grows to an almost blinding brightness as you reach across the console to hug him, and pull him into your arms. He's quick as he presses a peck to the top of your head, eyes still dancing over you as if he was seeing you for the first time. And maybe he was, that part wasn't your business, all you knew was that loving Aaron was easy, it could be.
A long time coming, but a wait well worth it. Lucky you.
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tlou-reid · 5 months
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Cheese Danishes ❤︎ Aaron Hotchner
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♡ SUMMARY: aaron is struggling to navigate his feelings, and his fears, as his relationship with his younger graduate student neighbor progress
♡ WARNINGS: smut (piv) mdni, oral (fem recieving), fingering, fluff, angst mentions of criminal minds-esque violence, mentions of haley and george foyet, age gap (mid 20s/mid 40s)
♡ NOTE: the timeline on this is wonky when compared to the show. in my head, aaron and jack did go into witness protection and left for a while, but once foyet was caught aaron returned as unit chief to the BAU. so the team is made up of the people in the later seasons, including prentiss, but aaron is still in charge.
Part one
—♡
Aaron pulled your body tighter against him amidst the start of the season’s first snowfall. “Thank you,” he mumbled, pressing a gentle kiss to your hairline. It wasn’t very often he allowed himself to stay after you two had been intimate, only after he had been away for a rough case. You basked in the attention every time.
As much as you wanted more, your relationship with Aaron has been primarily physical. You could count on one hand the amount of times you two had a connection outside of sex. It wasn’t necessarily his ideal either, but life gets in the way when you’re pulled away to attend to serial killers every week, in between spending time with your son.
You two lay together for a while, not saying anything. This was the time you used to pretend things had turned out the way you wanted them to. Of course, you lusted over him when you first met. Something about having a sexy, older neighbor fulfilled a fantasy you didn’t know you had. But, over the months you got to spend with him, both before and after your drunken declaration of interest, your feelings for him had evolved.
You’d learned how much more he was than his stoic exterior. He was gentle, like the way his calloused hands caressed your hips as he pulled you into his lap while you made out. He was funny, constantly teasing you for your abnormal habits. He was kind, making sure you were safe and sound before he retreated to his home.
But, most of all, he was distant. Physically distant a good portion of the time, being needed in different parts of the country at any given time. Mostly, he was emotionally distant. It was as if something was tormenting him most of the time, keeping him from truly giving himself to you. Even when he was buried deep inside you, it was as if there was a gap between you, preventing any real connections.
He gave you an even tighter squeeze, warning you he would be leaving soon without using words. You hoped he didn’t notice the way your body tensed back up when he did this, knowing how empty the house would feel in just a few minutes. He let out a familiar sigh, before pressing one more kiss to your forehead. “I should probably head back,” he spoke his usual phrase into the darkness of your bedroom. You nodded against his chest before pulling yourself away from him, allowing him to get up.
He noticed the way you pulled your comforter closer, trying the replace the warmth he had been providing. Aaron’s heart broke, wanting to crawl back next to you and hold you close for the rest of the night. For the rest of his life, if he could.
But, he couldn't. He knew that. If he allowed himself to be honest with you, to tell you all the ways he has fallen for you since you showed up on his doorstep with a container of desserts, he would ruin everything you had. Whether it be from him not being able to handle his own emotions, or something as terrifying as George Foyet, something would ruin the sparse nights he got to spend with you. He came with too much baggage, too many ways you could be hurt, to allow himself to have everything he wants.
So, he slips back on his pressed slacks and buttons up his white shirt. He moves quietly, trying to convince himself you are falling asleep, not worrying about what he is doing. Your soft voice ruins this, “Let me know when you get home,” you say, as you do every night he’s here. He lets out a sound of agreement, even though he knows he won’t do it.
The room falls quiet again as Aaron tries to find his suit jacket. He uses his phone flashlight and sees the arm sticking out from beneath your bed. He quickly bends over to grab it, hoping you don’t hear the way his hips creak as he lowers himself. Throwing his jacket over his arm, he finally makes his way to the door. He’s one step through it when you speak again, “Aaron?”
“Yes?” he replies quietly, ignoring how timid your voice sounds. “Maybe we could get lunch or something soon?” Your heart beats against your chest, reverberating in your temples as you ask. It doesn’t make sense. You have no problem letting him know when you’re soaking through your panties because of the lewd photo he sent you, but you’re on the verge of a panic attack as you ask if he’d like to have a meal with you.
“Yeah,” he nods, actually meaning it. He would love to have lunch or something with you. Of course, no one knows if it will ever actually happen. “Cool,” you let out a sigh of relief, “I’ll text you.”
“Yeah,” is all he says as he closes your bedroom door, making his way back to his house. Your body shivers with both chill and loneliness when you hear your front door close.
Aaron’s shoulders were slumped as he made the trek across the street. He threw his jacket over his shoulders, but not putting his arms through the sleeves, to try and protect him from the cold. This year’s winter had come in full swing this week, with the first snowfall happening tonight. He couldn’t make out where the little hand on his watch was, but he knew it was some time after midnight.
He was carrying a lot of guilt and he had no one to share it with. He couldn’t tell you because the repercussions could result in you losing your life, the same way Haley did. He couldn’t tell the team because they didn’t know about you. And that was all of the adult people in his life, pretty much.
His key turned in the door and he let out a sigh. He’d forgotten to turn his heat on when he left for the last case, so it was freezing inside. He stopped in the hallway to change the thermostat, before making his way to the bathroom. He turned on the shower, letting it properly heat up before he began to remove his clothes.
The cold he was feeling was both literal and metaphorical. The chill air burned his skin, opposite from the way your warm touch soothed it.
Aaron felt like he was on autopilot as he cleaned himself, put on his warmest pajamas, and made his way to his bed. It felt bigger than it did before he left. He fell asleep pretty quickly, both from the strenuous case and the orgasm he had not that long ago.
The next morning, you were woken up by the sun casting through your window. You had forgotten to close the curtains last night. You reached for your phone, seeing two messages from Elise. ‘Meet us for brunch?’ and ‘Bring your old man ;)’. The “us” in question was her and her new girlfriend, Annie. They were a cute couple: they seemed like they were made for each other.
You texted back, asking about the time and place, choosing to ignore her second message. When you got up to get ready, you couldn’t help yourself from peeking to see if Aaron’s car was parked across the street. It wasn’t, so you pretended like you didn’t consider asking him to go to brunch.
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“Alvez,” Aaron’s voice cut through the chatter in the room. Everyone stopped what they were doing, focusing on the glare on Aaron’s face as he continued, “Stop.” Luke had been teasing Spencer, making the entire team laugh. Luke didn’t answer, knowing it wasn’t worth messing with him anymore. The entire team had picked up on the attitude Aaron had been carrying around lately. There was no more room for teasing in the BAU, as he always seemed angry nowadays.
As the team finished debriefing their last case, Emily lingered inside the meeting room. “Hey, Hotch?” She questioned, usually being the advocate for the team. Aaron didn’t answer but shifted his attention away from the files in front of him and to her. “Everything okay?” she asked.
“Just fine, Prentiss,” he lied, becoming embarrassed under her harsh stare. “Hotch,” she cut through the silence again, “we both know that’s not true.” As much as she was trying to be sympathetic, her prying was just pissing him off. “What is going on in my personal life is none of your concern.” He ended the conversation bluntly, not wanting her to pry anymore.
Like a dog who had just been scolded, Emily made her way out of the room. Hotch lingered for a little longer, hoping the team would disperse before he made his presence known again. He pulled his phone from his pocket, thinking over what Emily was saying to him. Something was wrong, but nobody could fix it. Nobody but you.
Your phone dinged from its spot beside you, and you tried to not let your professor see you reach for it. Sure, you were a grown woman who was allowed to be on your phone, but you didn’t want to seem rude by being distracted from his lesson. You set your pink pen on top of your notebook and lowered your phone into your lap. Your heart was pounding in your chest as you saw the message was from ‘Aaron <3’.
It had been about four days since he left your house and he had not texted since. You refused to text first, not wanting to appear desperate. ‘Hello, I am dropping Jack off at a friend’s at 6:30. Could I come over after? I can order us dinner.’ You couldn’t help the grin that spread across your face. You quickly typed out a reply, ‘My class ends at 5 and I have to stop by Elise’s to pick something up. Meet at my house at 7?’. He replied with a thumbs-up emoji.
Your leg excitedly bounced throughout the class, willing the clock to move faster. Your notes were messy due to your brain moving faster than your hand could go. When the professor finally wrapped things up and asked for any final questions, you shoved things into your bookbag, knowing you’d regret it the next time you needed something from it. You were the first one out the door.
You tried not to speed as you drove to Elise’s. You were picking up a new dog bed that Anna was getting rid of. Your dog, Jackson, would love it. You left yourself in her house, yelling out to let her know you had arrived.
You had not been completely honest with Elise. You had told her your relationship status with Aaron was complicated, which was half-true. It was very complicated, but also very non-existent. You rushed through your interaction with her and Anna, ignoring the joke she cracked about you having a hot date.
You arrived home close to 6:45 and immediately made your way to your closet to throw on something nicer than the leggings and sweatshirt you wore to class. You used the extra time to clean up around the house.
Aaron knocked on the door at 7:00 on the dot, making you giggle at his punctuality. “Hello,” you smiled at him as you opened the door. He said his greeting and leaned down to press a kiss to your lips. You could feel your face warm up at his actions. When he came in, you two settled on the couch, catching up on the things you had missed in each other’s lives.
“Is that new?” Aaron asked, putting at the large dog bed Jackson was resting on. Your heart swooned at him noticing such a small detail. “Yeah! Elise’s girlfriend, Anna, was getting rid of it. She fosters dogs most of the time but she had to stop after the last one got adopted because her dad moved in with her. He’s sick, so she spends a lot of time taking care of him.” Aaron nods in understanding, “You spoil him, huh?” You giggled at his answer, knowing most of your paychecks went to funding Jackson’s expensive lifestyle.
It didn’t take long for you to wind up in his lap, his hands gripping your ass. He was holding you close, pressing his tongue into your mouth. Aaron had a lot of skills, and kissing was probably one of his best. When you pulled away to breathe, he made quick work of moving his lips to your neck, sucking on the tender spot beneath your ear. You let out a gentle moan, moving your hands from around his neck to tug on his hair.
Your moment was interrupted when your stomach grumbled, surprising Aaron. He pulled away, looking up at you with wide eyes and puffy lips. You giggled out an, “I’m sorry.” Aaron soon joined you in your laughter. “You said we’d order food! I haven’t eaten since breakfast!” You smiled, enjoying this sweet moment with him.
He tapped your side, signaling you to get off of his lap. He reached for his phone, “What do you want to eat?” You two scrolled through your options, settling on a local pizza place. Your stomach grumbled again after he placed the order.
It didn’t take long for the pizza to arrive, and you two watched silly YouTube videos while you waited. The evening was filled with giggles and greasy pizza. It was everything you wanted with Aaron.
Once your bellies were both full and the paper plates had been thrown away, you two resumed your position on the couch. You were back in his lap and his lips were back on your neck. His hands were tight against your hips as you rocked against his cock, which was growing hard underneath you. The room was filled with languid sighs and deep moans as you made out.
His hands slid up your sides, moving to pull your shirt off. You separated for just a second, just long enough to lift your shirt over your head. Once it was thrown by the brand new dog bed, Aaron’s large hand was reaching up to cup your bra, quickly aggravated by the material blocking your skin. His hands moved to unclasp it, not letting his lips leave yours. The bra joined the shirt, and Aaron brought one of your nipples into his mouth.
The rough skin of his right hand felt like heaven on your right breast, eliciting moans of his name to fall from your lips. He was leaving deep, purple marks around across your tits, fueled by the sounds you were making. The light tugs of his hair had him painfully hard in his dress pants. 
You pulled away to look him in the eye, “Bedroom?” Aaron shook his head no, lifting your body to lay flat on the couch. “Wanna take you right here,” he rushed through. Stoic, well-spoken Aaron Hotchner was reduced to slang like “wanna” in these moments with you.
From his spot between your legs, he kissed down between your chest, down your stomach, to the waistband of your pants. He looked up at you, asking for permission to take them off. You nodded and your pants quickly joined your ever-growing pile of clothes. “Aaron?” He let out a ‘hmm’, entranced by the wet spot in your panties. “You’re wearing too many clothes.” This broke him out of his spell and he stripped himself down to his boxers.
His hands made their way under your thighs and leaned down to press a gentle kiss to your clothed sex. “Take ‘em off?” You nodded at his words, lifting your hips so he could pull them off. As soon as your panties were off, he licked a long strip up your slit.
You let out a moan as he began to bury himself into your pussy. His tongue delved into your hole and his nose nudged your clit. Your hands flew to his hair, pulling him closer. You weren’t sure if he could breathe with how he was pressed into your pussy, your juices spreading all over his chin. Once your grip on his hair relaxed a bit, he pulled his face away. As he slid two of his thick fingers into your hole, he said, “Taste so good, honey.”
As soon as he finished his sentence, he moved down to use his tongue to draw little figure eights along your clit. You let out a loud moan, “Aaron, ‘m gonna,” you cut yourself off with another moan, “gonna cum.” Your thighs held him in his spot as you reached your high. Even if he wanted to, he couldn’t move from his spot as you came on his fingers.
His fingers didn’t stop as he rode you through your orgasm. Once your thighs relaxed, he brought himself up to you. You could see the way your juices glistened on his chin as moved himself to kiss you, then you could taste them on his lips.
“Taste yourself?” He asked. You felt your pussy clench at his filthy words and gave him a shy nod. He smiled, before resting his head in the crook of your neck, pressing more kisses into it. Your arms came to wrap around him, holding his bare chest against yours. You two stayed like that for a little bit, basking in each other’s aura.
“Gonna fuck you now,” He informed, lifting his body a little. He looked you in your eyes, making sure you were still okay with it. You nodded, reaching down to align his dick with your entrance. He kept his eyes on you as he pushed in, noticing the way your eyes rolled back when he bottomed out.
Aaron’s cock wasn’t too long, but the thickness of it left a satisfying burn inside you. Aaron wasn’t one for an intense sex life. He was mostly content with missionary, enjoying the closeness and eye contact that came with it. You’d begun to get him out of his shell, testing things like riding him and doggy style throughout your three months hooking up.
His thrusts were deep and slow, drawing out the delightful burn in your pussy. After your previous orgasm, the stretch of his thick cock was almost enough to send you over the edge again. Everything about him was intentional, especially the way he held your legs so he could angle himself to hit the spot inside you that made your toes curl.
“Faster,” you moaned out, needing more. “You take what I give you,” he demanded, letting his rare dominant side come out. He knew you liked that by the way you clenched around his cock, squeezing him just right. It only took a few more strokes for him to start increasing his speed, never wanting to displease you.
He was chasing his own high, bottoming out with every deep thrust. You could feel the way you were leaving a ring of your arousal at the base of his dick. “Aaron,” you sighed out, trying to let him know you were about to cum again. While you couldn’t get the words out, he could tell by the way your muscles were beginning to tense up and you were letting out higher-pitched moans.
The way you clenched his dick had his orgasm following close behind your own, allowing him to ride you through your high. He let out a deep sigh as he came down, burying himself back in the crook of your neck. He placed gentle kisses along your neck as your hand drew loving circles along his shoulder.
You willed him to keep his head buried in your neck so he wouldn’t see the way your eyes began to fill with tears. It’s not that you were sad, or even disappointed. There was a deep longing feeling in your chest. In your heart, you knew this was where you wanted to be, but, in your brain, you knew it wouldn’t last.
Aaron let himself lay there with you for a while. He didn’t move as his dick softened inside of you and as your loving caress left goosebumps in their wake. Despite the chill in the room, he was comfortable.
A few moments pass before he pushes himself off of you, making his way to the bathroom to clean up. When he reappears in the living, he asks “Do you want to take a shower?” You eagerly accept his offer, getting up to guide him to your master bathroom. He smiles behind you as you turn on the water.
You’re very surprised at his actions but scared that if you mention how different he’s acting, he’ll stop. He usually doesn’t stay to clean up with you, besides retreating to the bathroom. You both step into the shower, muscles relaxed by the hot water. Aaron flinches away from it. “Too hot?” You ask, forgetting that not everyone takes scalding hot showers.
“I’ll get used to it,” he compromises. It’s a tight fit, but you both make do. He’s the first one to reach for the wash rag. Soaping it up with your lavender-scented body wash and bringing it to your shoulders. He allows himself to enjoy washing you, taking time to massage and caress your skin. He moves gently and lovingly, as if he would break you if he pushed too hard.
Despite the amount of times you had sex, this shower was the most intimate thing you and Aaron had ever done. It would’ve been easy to convince yourself that you two were a couple, one that is deeply in love and would never hurt each other. However, you could never do that because of the gnawing knowledge of his future departure. You weren’t a couple and he would be retreating to his home any minute now.
Aaron let you stay under the warm water as he washed himself, both of you opting to not worry about washing your hair tonight. You stepped out first, grabbing a towel off of the rack attached to the shower. You wrapped it around yourself, moving to get Aaron one from your towel closet. He enjoyed the warmth of the shower while you were gone. Once you appeared in the steamy bathroom, he turned off the water and wrapped himself in the towel you handed him.
It was quiet for a moment, both of you just enjoying the presence of each other. Aaron was rubbing the towel, trying to dry his hair when he spoke up, “I don’t believe I have any clothes here. Do you have any you think could fit me?” You were gobsmacked at his words. Luckily, you weren’t facing him, so he didn’t see the way your mouth dropped in surprise. You quickly turned around to face him, “Are you staying the night?”
“Is that okay?” He sounded awkward, not really knowing what to do. Sure, he’d left every other time, but he thought it would be okay since you spend so much time together anyway. He was trying to be better than he was before, trying to overcome the fears that had been keeping him from truly being with you. “Of course it is!” Your voice was excitable again, almost as lively as it was the day he met you. “I think I have some sweatpants, I can look.”
Your heart was pounding as you left the bathroom to dig through your dresser, seeing if there was anything you wouldn’t mind Aaron keeping. He followed behind you, settling on the edge of the bed. He was distracted as you looked, admiring you in just a fluffy towel. He wished he saw this side of you more often.
Once you found an old, gray pair at the bottom of your third drawer, you tossed them at him. You got dressed and he slipped them on, choosing to forgo underwear rather than put on the precum-stained ones from earlier. “What do we do now?” You asked sweetly, not really knowing how to go about this sleepover, but excited to have it nonetheless.
“Do you want to watch a movie?” He suggested, subtly pointing at the TV hung on your wall. “Sure! What kind of movies do you like?” You asked him as you moved to sit criss-cross on your bed. He chuckled at your cute demeanor, “Me and Jack tend to watch action or comedy, but I love a good romcom now and then.” This sent you into a fit of giggles, picturing Aaron curled up on the couch with a bowl of popcorn, and ‘When Harry Met Sally’ being the only thing illuminating his face in the dark room.
“I don’t see what’s so funny about that,” He said with a fond smile on his face. He laid down, leaving space for you to curl yourself against his side, tucked right into his armpit. You felt like you belonged there. “I just didn’t realize you were such a softie,” You said with a few more giggles. He shifted his head down to look at you the best he could, “I can be.”
You two settled on ‘Do Revenge’, playing into Aaron’s apparent love of chick-flicks. You two got comfortable under the covers. About halfway through, Aaron heard your gentle snores filling the room. He reached across you to grab the remote and turn off the TV. He reached back over you to put the remote on your nightstand, pressing a kiss to your forehead before he settled himself down, falling quickly into a deep slumber.
The next morning, you woke up to an unfamiliarly cold room. You sat up and rubbed your eyes, looking at the messed up bed. Your gaze followed the blanket that had been thrown around to an empty bed.
Your eyebrows crinkled in confusion, remembering that Aaron had spent the night. A part of you hoped when you got up, he’d be making breakfast for you like the husbands always did in the cheesy romcoms you two talked about last night. The other part of you knew he had left.
To confirm your suspicions, you made your way to the living room, trying to ignore the steadily increasing beat of your heart. You made your way to Jackson, who was asleep in his brand-new bed. You sat next to him, tears filling your eyes. His clothes were gone. Even the stupid sweatpants you let him borrow. Jackson snuggled closer to you, almost providing the warmth Aaron took with him when he left.
You let yourself lay there for a while, dwelling on the hurt in your heart. It wasn’t as if this was unexpected, but he could’ve had the decency to not lie to you. You explicitly asked him if he was staying the night and he said he was. How could he just leave? As if your time last night didn’t mean anything? As if any of the nights you two spent together didn’t mean anything?
You were forced to get up when you heard your phone alarm going off in your bedroom, indicating it was time for you to get ready for work. You had a busy day ahead of you that would consist of work and catching up on homework. You didn’t have time to worry about a man who wasn’t worrying about you.
You felt numb throughout your whole shift. You ignored Elise’s texts asking you to go out tomorrow, considering you hadn’t had a Friday night out in a while. You ignored pretty much everything, burying yourself in your tasks. You were on autopilot as you drove home. You quickly took care of Jackson, taking him on a brief walk and feeding him. You went out your back door and followed it until you knew you couldn’t see Aaron’s house. You didn’t want to think about him, and you definitely didn’t want him to see how sad you were.
You did homework for the rest of the night, ignoring the world around you. You didn’t turn on the TV or look at your phone once. You took another scorching shower, basking in the burn it left on your skin.
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You went on like this for another day. It wasn’t until you returned home from work late on Friday night that you had to come face-to-face with your feelings.
It was actually your choice. No one forced you to slam your car door as soon as you saw Aaron get out of his in his own driveway. No one forced you to stomp your way across the street. No one forced you to yell his name.
No, you were solely guided by your own anger, your own sadness, to approach him. You didn’t know who was around, and you didn’t really care as you started yelling at him. “Fuck you,” You spit out first, “You said you were staying. I wanted you to stay. But you fucking left. I was going to make you breakfast, you know that? The best fucking baker around was going to make you breakfast. But you left. Without saying goodbye.”
You didn’t normally cuss, or yell, really. The anger you felt became too much and you were talking before you could really think about what you were saying. Your eyes started to fill with tears. “Y/N,” he interrupts. He wasn’t yelling at you, more raising his voice so you’d let him talk. “I didn’t want to leave you.” He confesses, a guilty look spread across his face.
You’re instantly quieter and the tears start falling as you speak. “You didn’t?” You quietly question. You wanted to be angry. You wanted to scream and cry and cuss at him so he could feel just a little bit of the hurt you felt when you woke up yesterday morning. But that wasn’t in your nature. You were good and kind and sweet, not mean and nasty.
“No, honey, of course not,” He speaks softly, taking a few more steps towards you. You let him rest a gentle hand on your shoulder as he continues, “I got a call from Jack’s friend’s mother. They had snuck out and gone skateboarding. Jack fell on his arm and they were on their way to the emergency room. I had to meet him there.”
Guilt started to fill your chest as you listened to his explanation. “Aaron, I’m so sorry,” You breathed out as he pulled you into his chest. He wrapped his arms around you, holding you close as he spoke, “There’s no need to be. I should’ve called you but I got distracted with work.” You nodded against his chest. He held you as you calmed down, letting your tears subside. “I’ve got to run, we’re leaving for a case and I forgot my go-bag,” You nod at his words, “Be safe, please.”
“Of course,” He said as he started taking a few steps backward. He turned around and made his way to his door. His hand was reaching out for the knob when you called his name. “What are we?” You asked the dreaded question that had been weighing on your chest. It seemed childish, but there was no other way to phrase it. You hoped he wanted to be in a relationship. You hoped he wanted you the same way you wanted him.
“Honestly, I’m not sure,” He said as he made his way back to you. “I owe you a conversation, that’s for sure.” You nod at his words, “When can we have it?” You asked, knowing he needed to leave for work. “I’ll text you as soon as we wrap up the case.” You nod again as he makes his way back to his front door.
He’s the one who turns around this time, calling out your name. “I’m sorry,” he apologizes, “For everything that happened before. I’m going to make it right as soon as I get home.” You give him a soft smile and a gentle nod before turning around to make your way home. 
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It takes a full week for the team to wrap up the case. Reid and JJ ask if they can spend the night in Phoenix, not wanting to be on the jet at three in the morning. However, Aaron vetoes this immediately, knowing he needs to be home as quickly as possible to talk to you.
He texts you while Luke drives the SUV, letting you know he will be boarding shortly and to expect him to be over sometime in the morning tomorrow. You’re fast asleep and do not reply, but Aaron knows you’ll see it in the morning. 
And you do. You check your phone first thing in the morning. Usually, your Saturdays are spent catching up on missed homework throughout the week, but today you immediately made your way to the kitchen. When you are stressed, this is where you usually find yourself. You threw on the “kiss the cook” apron Elise had given you a few Christmases ago, pulling up the recipe for raspberry cheese danishes you had seen online the other day.
You had just put them in the oven when you heard the knocks on your door. Aaron had gotten just a few hours of sleep before he made his way to your house. His heart was beating in his chest as he waited for you to open the door.
All of his nerves quickly dissipated as he saw you in your apron. He smiled at it, grabbing you by the waist and pulling you in for a kiss before either of you could even say hello. You giggled when he let you go, opening the door wider so he could come in. You were glad he greeted you the way he did. It took away some of the awkwardness that was looming over you due to the conversation topic.
“It smells phenomenal in here,” he complimented as he made his way to the dining room table. He sat down at the of the table and you settled into the seat on his left. “I’m sorry I had to run the other day, duty calls.” You nodded in understanding at his words. “Did you think about my question?” You asked timidly, wanting to get the conversation started so it could be over sooner.
“I did,” he said with a thoughtful nod, “I’m not quite sure how I would define us if I’m being honest.” His answer left you speechless. Not in a bad way, and certainly not in a good way, but in a way that signaled that you didn’t know how to reply. “I mean, I don’t know how I would define us back then.” He continues on.
For the first time since he kissed you when you opened the door, he made eye contact with you. “I would like to define us as a couple now if that is alright with you.” He didn’t miss the smile that quickly spread across your face and the way you started to twiddle your fingers. “Aaron Hotchner,” You let out an overdramatic gasp, “Are you asking me to be your girlfriend?”
Aaron laughed at your theatrics, “Yes, I am.” You immediately threw yourself in his lap, pressing a kiss to his blushed cheek. “I would love to!” He could feel you smile against his face as you threw your arms around his neck. He let you love on him for a little bit before you made your way back to your seat. “I think there are a few things I have to tell you first, though,” Aaron informed again and you noticed the way his body tensed up. You didn’t say anything, creating a safe space for him to get anything he needed off of his chest.
“Ever since the day I barged in after you left me that voice message, this is what I wanted. I wanted to kiss you when you greeted me at the door. I wanted to watch cheesy films with you. I still really want all of that,” He let out a deep breath, “but I come with a lot, Y/N. Even just being with me puts you in danger. My last relationship ended due to my job, and I lost her. My wife, she, uh,” His eyes began to well up with tears.
You reached your hand out to hold his, understanding what he was trying to tell you. His wife, Jack’s mom, had died because of something related to his job. You weren’t going to force him to continue if it was this painful for him to talk about. “I understand,” You spoke gently, not wanting to upset him more, “And I’m okay with that risk.”
Aaron nodded at your words, not really knowing if you meant them. You did. Even if you wouldn’t admit it quite yet, you were in love with Aaron. You understood his job was scary and he dealt with a lot of evil in his line of work, but not even that could keep you from wanting a relationship with him.
“And, there will be times when I’m not around. My job, it is very demanding and very important to me, and to the world, I think. When they need me, I have to go.” You knew this part, he was away a lot. That’s why you had spent so much time texting before he was aware of the crush you had on him. However, before you could respond, the oven dinged, telling you it was time to take out the danishes.
Without thinking about it, you jumped up from the table, exclaiming, “My danishes are done!” Aaron laughed at this, following you with his eyes as you made your way to the oven, pulling out the desserts and sitting them on the counter to cool. You were looking over them are you spoke, “I know that, Aaron. I’m a busy bee, too. I think I’ll be okay when you’re away.”
“These look this delicious,” he complimented, reaching for one. You quickly swatted his hand away, “They need to cool!” He laughed and pressed a kiss to your neck. “What are they?” He asked, not moving his face from the crook of your neck. “Raspberry cheese danishes! It’s a new recipe.” You could feel yourself getting giddy at the thought of Aaron Hotchner, your boyfriend, and personal taste-tester.
“Well, they look and smell amazing. You’ll have to make some for the BAU holiday party.” He said, very casually. You froze in your spot as he unwrapped from your figure. “You want me to go?” You were surprised at his invitation. From getting to know him, you’d realized that the people in the BAU were some of the most important people in his whole life. “Of course,” he smiled, “Everyone brings their significant others.”
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♡ TAGS: @himboelover @zaddyhotch @lcvdoll @h0t-as-h3ll @lamentis-10 @cherubswhispers
disclaimer: i will only tag accounts that have an age on their profile that indicates they are not a minor
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dashofghost · 1 month
Text
AFTER HOURS
or, Hotch being frustrated with the local police department is hot. mdni
"I'm busy," the sheriff snaps, burying his nose in another case file to avoid looking at Hotch. You purse your lips quietly, trying to decipher your almost illegible handwriting on the report.
"I can come back with a warrant."
Your head snaps up, report forgotten. Hotch's scowl is even more severe than normal, his arms crossed over his chest. The sheriff pushes his chair back, standing face to face with Hotch.
"Excuse me?" the sheriff snaps. The conversation is turning heads all over the precinct, a quiet hush seeping over the desks, but your eyes are glued on Hotch. He braces his hands on the sheriff's desk, and you almost swoon.
"You have deliberately concealed evidence to protect multiple unsubs throughout this entire investigation. All those people had to die for what reason, sheriff? So you could keep your drinking buddies? So you could keep living your twisted lies-"
"You son of bitch," the sheriff spits at Hotch. The entire precinct is silent now, all eyes on the argument. Hotch waits for a beat, two, before abruptly turning away.
"We're leaving," he orders shortly. It takes a second for the words to reach you in your daze, but you scrabble to pack up your papers.
"Hotch, what-" Derek starts, but stops when Hotch fixes him with a dark scowl.
"That's an order." Hotch snaps. Chills, actual chills run down your spine as you follow him out of the precinct, anger rolling off him in waves. You bite your lip, teeth digging into the delicate skin. Bitterly, you wish they were his.
◇─◇──◇─◇
The ride back to the hotel is silent. The team splits up almost as soon as you get back, Hotch storming off to his room as soon as the car stops. You change into conformable clothes and wait for the inevitable knock on your door.
It comes just an hour later. You open the door to see Hotch, his tie loose and his hair mussed, coat jacket gone.
"Can I come in?" he asks quietly, just like he does every time. You smile and nod, and he walks in, closing the door behind him. He waits until the lock clicks.
Just as you pull him in by his button down, he's reaching for you. Your lips collide in clash of teeth, tongues dancing. It's the same battle for dominance like it is every time.
"You loved it," Hotch gasps between kisses, hands sliding up your sides, dragging the material of your (his) shirt with it. You drag your fingers through his hair, nails scraping his scalp, and he groans, low and throaty.
"Yeah? You couldn't even wait an hour before coming here," you spit back, furiously working on the buttons of his shirt. You try to ignore the tremors in your hands as Hotch cups your breast in his hand, massaging slow circles on your nipple.
"Do you want be to boss you around, angel? Want me to tell you what to do?" he asks, and oh god, you didn't even realize your shirt was off. The wall is cool against your back when you collide with it, and you realize he's doing it again.
"I think I'd rather die," you snap, but it comes out breathy as one of Hotch's hands trails down your stomach, disappearing underneath the hem of your sweats.
"Yeah?" he asks in his stupid smug voice, his paw-like hands cupping your pussy. You grind down against him, almost unconsciously. His thumb starts to work lazy circles on your clit, and your eyes flutter shut. You bite back your moans, opening your eyes to glare at him hazily.
He only chuckles, slipping two of his fingers inside you. His thumb works at a cruel pace, and your fingernails dig into his arm, trying to keep yourself upright. Hotch's fingers arch once, twice, before rubbing against the sweet spot inside of you.
You can't help it: you moan, high and breathy in his ear and Hotch's head falls back, a groan escaping his throat.
"There we go, angel, there we go," he coos, and the world spins and you realize he's picked you up. He sets you down on the bed, his hands shaking as he pulls off sweats and underwear. Your legs are still shaking as he settles you in his lap, and your head spins when you realize he's still in his (open) button down and slacks.
"Aaron," you whine as he slides his fingers back into you, and he runs a soothing hand down your back as you grind down on them. As his fingers rub against your walls, you can only bury your head in his shoulder.
You gasp as his fingers rub against both your clit and g-spot, crying out. You writhe in his arms, hazy with pleasure, dragging your nails his back. Hotch is moaning freely, rutting up against you.
"It's so-" you gasp, clinging onto his shoulders, nails leaving marks, "Aaron, ugh, it's so good-"
"I know," he groans in response, "I know, sweetheart. Just let me take care of you, yeah?"
◇─◇──◇─◇
"casual sex implies the existence of ranked competitive sex" this is the ranked competitive sex
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mcondance · 26 days
Note
office pussy!reader asking hotch to come over and help build some new furniture only to get fucked on said new furniture ??
-🐯
MDNI 18+ not much expansion on my Thing abt him being a Man cause i have plans that i cannot share with you all at this time | reader is shorter than hotch
it’s not like it’s out of the question. you and hotch in a space together, you in a little pair of shorts and a little tee, him in his second uniform as you call it, a red polo and some cargos.
fucking isn’t out of the question when you’re alone with him. it doesn’t always happen. but there’s the times it does.
you’d asked him earlier if he could swing by after work to put a little vanity together, telling him that you could, but you know he’d get it done much faster.
his hands work diligently, eyes flitting between the pieces in his hand and the instructions on the floor.
and he looks. . god he looks good. he’s doing this for you, stationed on the ottoman at the end of you bed, focused, eyebrows furrowed, muscles tightening and loosening as he works. you bring him juice and snacks, flirting just a little as you feed them to him with a knowing little glint in your eyes.
he knows what you’re doing. but he’s as much of a worker as he is a player. he’s got to work now.
and as he places the finishing touches on the vanity and places it where you ask, he can play now.
play.
his hands find your waist between that little shirt and shorts, lips moving against yours like he’s hungry for you. he’s always hungry for you.
your arms are thrown over his shoulders and it’s limbo for a second, filthy kisses taken and given in the middle of your bedroom until he’s walking you back toward the vanity, leaning back against it and opening his legs so you can fit between them.
here, he cups your face in his big hands, devouring you. you grip at his shirt, pulling him to you until he’s walking you, and you’re placed against the vanity now.
clothes don’t mean a thing, his pants unbuttoned and your shorts simply pulled to the side.
the vanity shakes and bumps, banged into the wall by his lewd thrusts, pushes so good your legs clasp behind his back, arms throw over his shoulders and tense up, mouth falls open with cries and sobs. he’s fucking you in every sense of the word, driving into you so beautiful and sweet your body aches, all fuzzy around the edges.
he groans and hums, his chest vibrating against yours. strong arms hold you, make his moves that much better. cries and sobs spill out of your mouth, all you can give him with how he’s screwing you against the furniture he’d just built.
after, with his polo all wrinkled and your face sticky with tears, you tell him thank you, since you’d only gotten to tell him the vanity looks good before you jumped each other’s bones. he hums in you’re welcome, a knowing little laugh trailing behind.
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heliotropehotch · 5 months
Text
Upcoming Hotch Smut Sneakpeek 18+ only
*I am posting this to will myself to finish it*
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themes: kinda sorta enemies to lovers? (she thinks hotch hates her, one bed trope, sleepy groping/spooning, smut smut smut smut
“Is this what you wanted?” She could feel the vibrations of his words against her spine as he pressed his nose into the skin just below her ear. She inhaled sharply at each sensation he willed upon her body - his fingers tweaked her nipple and rolled the pebbled skin as he continued to squeeze. “Is this what you were dreaming about earlier?”
“Hotch-” She gasped and her free hand flew up behind her to cup the back of his head, unable to hide the shock from his words, unable to stop her hips from pressing into his. 
“I thought you were having a nightmare, ya know. I almost woke you up when you started shuddering, but then you whimpered-” his fingertips pinched her peak, eliciting a sound from her parted lips. “Just like that. It’s a miracle I fell asleep.” 
“Aaron,” she panted out, angling her top half to try and meet his eyes. “If you don’t want to, tell me now but-”
“If I don’t want to?” He asks with an incredulous tone as he lowers his lips to her crux of her neck and shoulder, suckling slightly at her warm skin. His hand breaks free from hers just to create a path of warmth, fingers slipping under the soft fabric of her sleep shorts and over the damp lips of her cunt. He moved his mouth closer and brushed his parted lips against hers. “Sweetheart, this is the only thing I want.”
*****BARK BARK BARK I NEED TO FINISH THIS****
Please give me feedback! I need encouragement to post again!
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boldlyvoid · 4 months
Text
Snowed In
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18+ Aaron Hotchner x Fem Reader
Summary: what happens when you're the last two in the office on Christmas Eve and the roads are closed due to an unexpected blizzard?
Warnings: divorced touch starved hotch, Agent reader, blizzards, alone at Quantico, cuddling, flirting, making out, face sitting, munch hotch, teasing, p in v smut, soft dom hotch, spit, biting, fluffy aftercare
word count: 5.3k
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The weather forecast for Christmas Eve didn’t look nice… but you can’t really call out of work at the FBI for ugly weather when there are terrible people out there to catch. And, unlike everyone else who thought it would be smart to head home before the storm, she had paperwork to do.
So by the time her last file was closed, the roads were too. 
The power was still on, and it would stay on thanks to the generator at Quantico and the best part was that the kitchen was newly stocked with snacks. 
She wandered down to the floor 6 break room, which just so happened to be in the BAU bullpen. Everyone had gone home, the desks were empty and the only lights on were in the kitchen area. She took out a mug, flicked on the kettle and started to make herself some toast with one of the many Jams in the fridge. She’s so caught up in her snack that she doesn’t hear a door open, or someone walking down the steps towards her until he's taking a deep breath and scaring the daylights out of her. 
“Oh god,” she jumps, hand on her chest as she turns to him. “Agent Hotchner…” 
“Agent Y/L/N,” he smiles. “Sorry, I thought you knew I was still here.” 
“I figured you went home to your wife—
“Ex-wife,” he sighs, showing his ringless hand. “She has our son this year, I thought I’d catch up on some work and then the snowstorm got… well, you see,” he points to the big glass windows covered in snow. 
“It hasn’t snowed like this here in years,” she shakes her head in disbelief. “I can’t believe we're stuck here…” 
“Well, it’s not like there’s nothing to do,” he teases. “We have a TV, lots of snacks, the power won’t go out on us so it’ll stay warm in here and Daves got a cot in his office if you need a place to sleep…” 
“Oh, thank you,” she’s shocked he’s thinking about her like that. “I didn’t even think about that part.” 
“you’re just hungry?” He teases. “What are you making?” 
“Tea and toast… you want some?” She asks, hopeful he’ll say yes. 
He nods, “I’d love some.” 
They work around the kitchen like a team. She makes the toast, he makes their tea and they share exactly how they like theirs done… and there's a hope in her heart that maybe this is just the first time she makes him a breakfast meal. She’s always found him handsome, everyone in the bureau had, honestly. Not only is he good-looking, he’s strong and smart and kind until he can’t be anymore. And when he’s mean, even that’s a little sexy.
He invites her up to his office where she finds he’s been sitting on his couch, his laptop on his desk, watching old episodes of Fraser… “seriously?” She can’t believe it. 
He blushes a bit, “it’s a good show. I have every season on DVD and this laptop has a disk drive, so…” 
“Honestly, I’ve never really watched it,” she shrugs. “What season are you on?” 
“The first one, I can start it from the beginning again?” 
“No, it’s okay,” she waves it off. “I think I can catch up, you’ll just have to explain some things to me.” 
And so he does, he gives a rundown of the first few episodes. Who Fraser is, his weird brother, his dad and their dad's helper— who his brother eventually falls in love with. It’s a good show. It’s funny, she gets to see Hotch smirk and sometimes, actually, giggle… it’s something she’s not used to. 
In the handful of times she’s worked with the BAU on things, Agent Hotchner has never cracked a smile. Episode after episode, he gets happier and friendlier and she takes that as an invitation to move in closer and closer until their shoulders are touching. And then he lifts his arm to rest it on the back of the couch and she’s even closer to him. His tie is off, his first two buttons are undone… he’s comfortable and handsome as ever and it takes everything in her to watch the show and not stare at him. 
“Do you want to watch another?” He asks in a hushed tone, just for her to hear— as if they weren’t completely alone here. 
She nods, “I can do another.” 
“Cool,” he smiles ever so softly and goes to get up so he can switch the disk to access another 4 episodes.
She watches him take out the old disk, put it back in the case and take out the new one. He places it in the tray, closes the disk drive and watches as it loads up to the title screen again. He hits play, and makes his way back to the couch with a sigh, placing his arm on the back again, just as close to her as last time. 
“This is really nice,” she compliments. “Thanks for making this night fun for me.” 
“I’m actually really glad someone else got snowed in here too,” he teases. 
“I really thought I was alone in here,” she sighs. “I’m so happy I’m not…” 
“Are you happy it’s me?” 
She can’t help but smirk, “Yeah… alone time with Agent Hotchner wasn’t something I ever expected to get.”
“Would you want more?” He asks, staring at her lips. “I mean—
“Yes,” she cuts him off. “If I knew you were single I would’ve asked before…” 
“It’s only been 6 months, we haven’t worked together since then,” he reminds her. “I haven’t— I haven’t even tried to spend time with someone else, yet.”
“But you think you’re ready?” 
He shrugs, “I— I think you’re pretty and you’re nice and we’re here and we’re having a good time…” 
“So are you asking me on a date hotchner, or do you want to bone in your office?” 
He laughs, “Bone? Seriously?” 
“Canoodle, bang, bump uglies, fuck,” she lets out all the slang and he laughs again, good and hard and it’s beautiful. 
She cups his face and he pauses for a moment, “I think I’d like to start with just kissing you.” 
“Okay,” she breathes out as she leans in to kiss him. 
He’s so gentile. His lips are soft, and he’s tentative and reserved. He keeps his hands to himself and lets her set the pace. She never would’ve guessed that making tea and close proximity would lead to kissing the most handsome man she’d ever known in her entire life. When their tongues meet, he finally reaches out for her. Holding her side, he grips her just enough to make her crave more. She moves in closer, desperate to throw her leg over him and sit in his lap… but it’s him who initiates it. 
He tugs her in, helps her settle in his lap and wraps both his hands around her to cradle her body against his. She sighs against him, making him smile into the kiss. She smiles too, coping his face she pulls back to look at him, “I didn’t expect Frasier to be the show that rials you up like this…”
“Well… tossed salads and scrambled eggs are both euphemisms,” he teases.
“How so?” 
He lets out a deep breath through his nose like he doesn’t want to explain it. “The phrase ‘toss my salad’ is slag referring to rim jobs— or really any kind of oral pleasure, I guess…” 
“Oh,” she wasn’t expecting that in the slightest. “And I guess scrambled eggs is how he likes his eggs done in the morning?” 
He nods, “who knows, really? The theme song has never actually been explained but… how do you like your eggs in the morning?” 
“Why? It’s not like you can make me some in the morning,” she teases. 
“Maybe, when the roads are better we can go get breakfast?” He offers. 
“I thought the whole point of the saying was that you’re supposed to make them for me?” She stares him down, hoping to make him laugh… she gets a smirk and a shake of his head as he tries to hold it in. 
“I will make you breakfast, at one of our places, the first chance I get,” he assures. “If… if that’s something you’d like?” 
She nods, “Yes, Aaron, I would love to get to know you more, and spend time with you and see where this goes… I’m literally in your lap right now dying to see what we get up to.” 
“Dying to?” He couldn’t believe those were her words. “Why?” 
She runs her fingers through his hair and then traces down the side of his neck and watches her hands as they trail over his shirt to rest on his chest. “When you look in the mirror in the mornings, do you plan on being the sexiest agent in the building or is this all just a happy accident?” 
He blushes, “I mean, I don’t really plan it— I just put something on and come to work.” 
She just shakes her head and sucks her tongue, “Well I guess now I have to show you just how handsome you are every single day.” 
“And how would you do that?” He asks, gripping her hips a little tighter. 
She leans in and kisses him softly, “You’re so handsome.” She kisses his cheek, “And pretty…” She kisses his jaw, “And cute…” he starts to smile and blush uncontrollably. 
As she goes lower with her kisses, she works on his third shirt button, exposing a bit more of his chest so she can drag her tongue over his collarbone— which makes him toss his head back and whine. “Oh god, you’re so sexy,” she praises. “I want to hear more of your pretty noises.” 
“So we’re doing this?” He asks, looking nervous.
She smiles softly and looks him in the eyes. “Only if you want to, baby,” she whispers. “We can do whatever you’re most comfortable doing, I’m sure this is going to be weird venturing into a new experience for the first time in so long, but we can go as far as you want and stop the moment you don’t want to do it anymore, okay?” 
He nods, “Thank you.” 
“And if you want to stop we can go right back to cuddling and watching the show and we can still go on that breakfast date,” she assures him. “I’m going to want to do that no matter what happens, okay? I like you, not what I can get from you.” 
“You’re so nice,” he swoons a bit. “Seriously, why are you so nice to me?” 
“you’re a good man, I’ve enjoyed working with you… and looking at you,” she teases. “But in all seriousness, you deserve someone to be gentile with you, you’re only so stone-faced at work to protect yourself, I get that, but you deserve some softness too.” 
“I had a feeling you’d be sweet to me,” he whispers, breaking his walls down for her. “I’ve wanted to do this… I’ve wanted to break out of my shell and be with someone new and forget about how much my wife—my ex-wife broke my heart, but I’ve been scared.” 
“It’s a scary thing,” she sympathizes. “But if you want me to be the first one you're with, I’ll be so good to you. I’m going to take care of you and make it fun and easy and soft and-and even if you get emotional or it’s too much, I’m not going to hold it against you.” 
“I want to do this,” he nods, staring at her lips. “I want it to be you who I start over with.” 
“I want to be that for you,” she cups his cheek again and smiles. “Thank you for picking me, Aaron.” 
“Um… I don’t have any condoms,” he warns. “There might be some in Dave's room… maybe Derek's desk?” 
She laughs, “I have some in my purse upstairs, I can go get them?” 
He nods, “Yeah, that would be good and then I can turn this sofa into a bed while you’re gone.” 
“Okay,” she goes to get off him but then stops herself, she leans in and steals on last kiss and he smiles into it. “Sorry, I needed another.” 
“You can have a million more when you get back,” he keeps smiling, overjoyed with his choice. 
He has about 6 minutes of freakout time while she goes to get her purse. He turns the couch into a bed, having a sleeper sofa in here was a blessing for nights like these… and when his wife kicked him out. He untucks his shirt and then re-tucks it and pulls it out again, he thinks about unbuttoning it and laying on the couch or maybe waiting for her at the elevator doors— he’s so nervous he has no idea what to do with his hands or his body. 
He wanders around the room and talks himself into meeting her at the bullpen doors just as she’s walking up the couple stairs to his office. “Oh, hi.” 
“Hi,” she smiles so beautifully. “You know you can still back out?” 
He shakes his head, “I don’t want to… I’m just nervous. I haven’t done this in a while.” 
“How long?” She asks.
“Since the last time with my ex-wife or with someone new?” 
“Either?” She’s simply curious. 
“My ex-wife was my first and only… and I haven’t been with her in almost 8 months now.” 
“You know you could have anyone in this office in a heartbeat if you wanted to,” she reminds him. “You’re the most handsome agent in the whole FBI— just don’t tell Morgan I said that.” 
He laughs, “Thank you.” 
“This is cute,” she motions over to his sleeper sofa. “You want to cuddle and make out a bit, again?” She asks while kicking off her shoes and she does the same thing, making it easier for when they shed all their clothes later. 
He nods and pulls her in close, “Kissing you has been the best part of my day.” 
“Well, let me make it even better,” she teases, leaning in and connecting their lips once more. 
It’s just as heated as before, only now his hands are on her lower back and he’s so tempted to grab her ass… so he does, he hauls her up so she can wrap her legs around him and he knees on the end of the bed. He lays her down, still kissing her while he attempts to hover over her— but she wants more. 
She grips his hips and pulls him down flush against her, so she can wrap her legs around him once more. And by wrapping herself completely around him, he suddenly feels at home. His nervousness dies off, his apprehension to experience something new and different and unlike himself diminishes to nothing and he’s able to enjoy this. 
He wraps his right arm around her, trapped between her and the mattress, while his left-hand cradles her head. He kisses her with passion and care and she gives the same energy right back… if not more so as she moans into his mouth. He pulls back with a smile, “you like kissing me that much?” He teases with his newfound confidence. 
“I mean yeah but do you not realize how hard you are against me? It feels amazing,” she explains, her legs wrapped around him still, she pushes him down against her core and has him grind against her once more. “You feel so good, baby.”
He was so in his head he didn’t even realize his other one was so active… he blushed a bit, “You like it?” 
She nods, “If grinding with you all night is all I get, I’m going to leave a very happy camper.” 
He leans in and kisses her cheek and then her jaw right up to her ear, “Oh, you’re getting more, believe me… so much more.”
She moans again and he takes that as enough incentive to keep kissing her there. He bites her earlobe gently and sucks on her neck just enough to stimulate her and yet not enough to leave a mark. Her hands search his back, feeling him up as he tenses from hovering over her and then releases when he drops his body weight against hers once more, and she sighs when he does that. She loves the feeling of him on top of her. It’s like he was meant to always be there. 
He withdraws his hands from under her and grips her hips as he sits up, “can I unbutton your shirt?” 
“You may,” she says, a look of excitement plastered over her face. 
“I want to just rip it open but I know you don’t have another shirt to wear home tomorrow,” he teases. “and it’s just too pretty to ruin.” 
“Hopefully you don’t feel the same way about me…” 
“Oh no, that’s precisely why I need to ruin you,” he assures, making haste on her buttons, he leans back in and starts to kiss the newly exposed skin of her chest. Right between her boobs and down her tummy until her shirt is completely unbuttoned and all he has left to pop is the button on her pants. 
Her tummy is so soft, that he gets inside her shirt and wraps his arm underneath her back to feel how warm she is and uses it as an excuse to undo her bra in the process. He pulls her forward and gets her out of her shirt and her bra and can’t help but stare down at her chest and then back up to her eyes, “mesmerizing.” 
“My turn,” she whispers, “let's flip.” 
He listens, laying on his back, she straddles his hips and leans down to kiss his neck while she undoes his shirt. Button by button, she gets him exposed just to press their naked chests together and kiss him right on the mouth once more. She hauls him forward so they’re both sitting up and she pushes the shirt off his shoulders so they can feel each other up. 
He grips her hips and tugs her in, grinding her against his bulge once more. She breaks the kiss to kiss his jaw and down his neck, “mm, Aaron,” she pulls his attention from the kiss. “Lay back.” 
“Okay,” he listens, leaning back and she reaches for his belt. 
“Can I?” 
He nods and so she starts to unbuckle him, she pops his button and pulls the zipper down so she can reach into his pants. She feels over his bulge, watching as he tosses his head back and bites his lip to hold back a moan. “Let it out baby,” she whispers. “A touch-starved man like you… come on, let me hear you.” 
“It’s not the only thing I’m starved for,” he jokes, blushing again. 
Her eyes widen as she pulls back, “oh yeah?” 
He nods, he wants to go down on her so bad that his stomach flips with anticipation. “Please?” 
She sits more on her knees and reaches for the button on her pants, “how do you want me?” 
“Would you— if you want, I mean, you can pick but I’d like to—
“I can sit on your face,” she knows exactly what he was trying to ask. 
In the same way, she liked feeling his weight on top of herself, he wanted to feel completely smothered by her pussy and thighs. 
She pushes him back so he’s lying flat and climbs off the bed so she can take her pants and underwear off, shoes long gone, she’s in nothing but her socks as she climbs back onto the bed and straddles his chest. 
He’s a little impatient, pulling her forward and wrapping his arms around her thighs, he gets her right where he wants her and kisses her right where her thigh meets her cunt. He eases into it, kissing her gently, whispering praise about how beautiful she is and how lucky he feels. 
But then he looks up at her, “don’t be afraid to really sit, I can take it.” 
“Tap me twice if you can’t,” she agrees and within seconds he’s going at her. 
“Fuck,” she gasped as she leans forward to rest her arm against the wall behind the couch, grinding against his face, exactly the way he wanted it. 
His tongue deep inside her, his nose nudging at her clit, he savours the way she tastes as if she hasn’t said she would be willing to do this again… and from her noises, he knows this experience just makes her want it again soon.  He wants her to enjoy it, he’s always been more into making his partner enjoy it. This time it feels a bit more selfish, as the more she enjoys it the more she’d be willing to come back and the more he can do it. And he wants to eat her out for the rest of his life. 
Her sounds are a price, her weight on top of him is magnificent and she’s absolutely delicious. And he hasn’t even gotten to the best part yet. Making her cum on his face is going to change his life. 
When he inserts a finger, her legs start to tremble around him. She’s so close, he can tell. Sucking on her clit while he massages that wonderful spot inside of her with his middle finger, she moans so deeply it vibrates her whole being. She starts to chant his name, right on the edge of her orgasm, so he adds a second finger and the damn bursts. 
She trembles harder than before, and a beautiful elongated moan leaves her mouth as she cums on his face. He’s quick to withdraw his fingers and replace them with his tongue, gathering it all with the most disgusting sounds he could ever make— but fuck, if she wasn’t the most delicious woman in the whole world. 
He was so into her, so transfixed on getting her off that he didn’t realize he was grinding up against nothing and the largest precum stain had marked his boxers and surely was on the inside of his work pants. 
“Aaron, Aaron, oh my god, stop, stop, holy fuck,” she makes him stop by pulls off him and sits down on the pillow beside his head. Hand to her chest to catch her breath, she melts against the mattress, “sweet Jesus?” 
“I need to do that every chance I get,” he muses, so in love with how it went down. “You’re delicious.” 
She laughs, placing her hand on his big bicep as she looks down at his glistening face, “I’m going to take you up on that all the time.” 
“Merry fucking Christmas to me,” he teases as he sits up, noticing just how close he was that whole time. 
His cock is strained against his boxers, soaking them around the elastic band, darkening the gray fabric so much that he feels a little embarrassed. She notices it too, but she smiles, “Oh, you really liked that, didn’t you?” 
He nods, unable to say much. 
“Come on, get your pants off, I think I’ve calmed down enough to take care of you now,” she assures. 
He doesn’t have to be told twice. He gets off the bed and starts to take off his pants while she looks around for her own, “can you get the condom from my pocket?” 
“Yeah,” he goes right for her pants right after his are off. 
She just looks around the room, avoiding eye contact with his cock even though he knows she wants to look, “I didn’t even ask if you have cameras in here…” 
He laughs, kneeling on the edge of the bed with the condom between his fingers, “No, I don’t. With all the confidential material I see in here and the conversations had in here, they didn’t put a camera in here. But there is one directly outside my office so they know you’re in here but they won’t know what you’re doing.” 
“And who is this they you speak of?” She teases. 
“Whoever watches the tapes but probably also Penelope… if she learns I was here all Christmas she will go back and look to see what I did,” he shakes his head with a loving smile. “She just cares a lot.” 
“She’s the sweetest,” she agrees. “But thank fucking god no one can see what we’re doing… I’m glad this is just for us.” 
“Mhm,” he hums, he gets between her legs and tugs her down the bed a bit so she’s lying with her head on the pillow, “they don’t need to see what’s about to happen.” 
“although someone should teach more guys how to eat like that…” 
He laughs again, leaning down to kiss her, “Then you’d have any guy you want and I'd rather be the only one for you.” 
“Very true,” she says against his lips before pressing her lips against his. 
They just kiss a couple times before he pulls back and sits on his knees once more, opening the condom and rolling it on. She finally takes a look at what he’s got going on between his legs and he sees her lick her lips while taking in a deep breath. “Fuck sake, you really are going to ruin me…” 
He smirks, “Do you want me to? We could just have a sweet and slow—
“No, I need a good fucking, like the fuck my brains out kind,” she assures. 
“It’s your lucky day,” he teases, running his hand over her inner thigh as he helps her spread them. “I can do that for you.” 
“Do your worst—
“Oh no, it’ll be my best,” he says, gripping his cock and tapping it against her pussy. “You ready?” 
“Please?” She begs, pleading with her beautiful eyes. 
He slips in ever so slowly, letting her adjust to his girth as he leans over her. He caresses her face with one hand, holding himself up with his lover, watching her take it all in. Head tossed back, she bites her lip and then lets out a blissful sigh. She grips his sides, wanting to desperately pull him down on top of herself once more, but she waits until he’s fully inside. 
“Oh my god?” She whines, “please move, I need more, please?” 
He smirks, leaning in to kiss the side of her mouth as he starts to rock his hips. He wraps his arm under her as she pulls him in closer and moves her mouth so they can kiss for real. She moans against him as his rhythm changes, his hips speed up and she wraps her legs around him to get him even deeper inside her. 
She feels so amazing, he almost forgot what it was like to fuck something other than his own hand. The way she flutters around him and grips him so tight, the feeling of her nails in his back and her tongue on his own. He’s in absolute heaven. So good in fact, he’s afraid he might not last as long as she deserves. 
He reaches between them and rubs her clit with his thumb, moving his kisses to her neck and just below her ear, “doing so good, baby.” 
“Holy fuck, Aaron,” she moans, tossing her head back and pushing her chest up. 
He looks between them and can’t help himself, he kisses her chest and she looks down to see what he’s doing, he looks up to her for permission only to hear, “suck on them, please? Please, oh my god?” 
He takes her nipple in his mouth and swirls his tongue around it before gently running his bottom teeth over the nib. She gasps, tightening around him which makes him moan with her nipple in his mouth. He brings up his other hand, using it to pinch her other nipple and she absolutely flutters around him, it’s everything. 
When he lets go of her nipples, he reaches his hand under her knee and pushes her right leg up. The angle changes, he’s so much deeper now, hitting her right where she wants him again and again, he kisses the inside of her calf gently as she tosses her head back. She moans, tightening around him to the point he’s so sure he’s about to lose control. 
He may be out of practice, but he’s not out of manners. He needs her to finish first. 
Using all the power he has left, he keeps her leg up like that but adjusts himself so his pubic bone can rub against her swollen clit with each and every thrust. “More,” she spits out. “Please? ‘M so close.” 
His hand slips down her leg, “I know baby,” he coos, keeping her stretched open, he just needs to get his thumb on her clit. 
He stills for just a moment, gathers some spit in his mouth and drops it between them so it lands right on her clit to release the friction but then he picks right back up. She whines, sweating and her head tossed back, getting ruined just like she asked to be. 
She somehow tightens around him again, and he’s so fucking close he feels like he could go insane. “you’re right there, sweet girl, let go when you’re ready,” he says through bated breath. So fucking close. 
And that does it, she starts to tremble again, her core tightens and so does her grip on his arm. “Oh, Aaron!” She moans out a string of incoherent words follow as she lets go and gets lost in her pleasure. 
He keeps going, helping her ride through it before his rhythm changes. He’s right there, dropping down onto her and kissing her shoulder as he pile-drives into her for the home stretch. Her hands roam his back, caressing him, “Fill me up, Aaron, you deserve it,” she whispers in his ear. “Cum for me, come on, baby.” 
He whines, right there, scared of what noise is going to come out of him when he does cum but he also doesn’t really care at this point. He whimpers and groans, biting her shoulder slightly as he fills the condom and stills against her, “Oh my god? Oh, my god… holy fuck?” 
She wraps her arms around him once more, tighter like a hug this time, still panting, she agrees. “I know, Jesus.” 
He laughs against her, high on endorphins and feeling completely invincible, “You’re amazing.” 
She grips his hair at the nape of his neck and pulls him up off of her shoulder, “You are incredible, that was the best sex I think I’ve ever had.” 
He can’t help but smile as he leans in to kiss her. She brushes his hair off his forehead, it’s sweaty and slicks right back. Their kissing is softer this time, lazy and less lust-filled— more loving. Thankful. 
He kisses her one last time before going to sit up on his knees and pull his soft cock out of her but she pulls him back in, “No, can we just cuddle like this for a bit?” 
“Yeah,” he nods, not expecting her to want this but so glad she does. 
He settles back against her shoulder, hand on her boob while she traces shapes over his back, “this is my favourite part,” she whispers. 
“Me too… but I’m never usually on top,” he admits. “Or still inside…” 
She lightly laughs and he can feel it all over, “What, your wife wasn’t a big fan?” 
“Not really, she was quick to go get cleaned up and then she would cuddle into me and go to sleep… but I don’t want to talk about her anymore,” he admits. 
“That’s okay,” she coos, soothing her hand down his back. She rests her cheek against the top of his head. “This has been the best night. Who thought getting snowed in at Quantico would end like this?” 
“Not me, but I’m so glad it did.” 
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