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persephonewritessometimes · 1 year

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me and the devil / unsub!hotch x reader / chapter three

Summary: Hotch has wormed his way into Y/N's life, much to her surprise. What happens when she lets him see the darkness in her? Will he return the favor?

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x AFAB Reader

Word Count: 8557 (i got a little carried away)

Warnings: HARASSMENT, MENTIONS OF M*RDER, Y/N TALKS ABOUT K*LLING SOMEONE (in self-defense), HOTCH TALKING ABOUT M*RDER, DARK!HOTCH, BLEEDING, KNIFE WOUND, STITCHES, MEDICAL INSTRUMENTS, strip club, cursing, Derek being a cheeky bastard, pilates (not sure if this should be a warning but putting it here just in case), hotch being pushy, stubborn!Y/N, stubborn!hotch, flirting, reid get's propositioned

Key: y/n = your name

Author's Note: I apologize for the slow pace at first, I have to lay the foundations of the story! Also apologies for the long chapter, I just had a lot I wanted in this one!

me and the devil series masterlist

This work is meant for readers aged 18 and over. You are responsible for your own media consumption.

I had just come through the door after a very long day at clinical when my phone started to ring. I cursed, dropped my clinical bag on the floor, and almost tripped over Cujo in the process. Where’s my damn phone? I’m digging through my bag then remember that I shoved it into one of my backpack pockets. I rip my backpack off and open the zipper pouch, not even checking the caller ID. It’s probably Tia, she’s really the only one who calls me anyway, usually wanting to tell me about her shitty boyfriend.

“It’s Y/N, what’s up bitch?”

“Do you answer the phone like this every time?” Hotch’s dry voice stops me dead in my tracks.

“Oh my god, Hotch, um, no I thought you were one of my friends. She’s usually the one calling me.”

“Don’t you have caller ID?”

“Yes, but you have horrible timing. I just got home and nearly landed on my face trying to get my phone out of my backpack.” He chuckles and my stomach flutters. “What can I help you with today, Agent Hotchner?”

“Are you busy right now?”

“Well, that depends. I have pilates in thirty minutes but you’re more than welcome to join me.” I say, knowing full well he won’t take me up on the offer.

“I’m down for pilates. Where is it?” My brain short circuits a little bit.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Where do you do pilates?”

“You? Want to come to the pilates class? With me?”

“Why not? I’ve been cooped up in my office all day.”

“Um, sure.” I give him the address of my favorite gym. “Oh, and the air conditioning is always on the fritz so dress light.” Seeing him drop off the car for me the other day made me horny enough, with him in a tight quarter-zip and jeans, I can’t imagine what seeing him in workout clothes will do to me.

“Got it. I’ll see you there.” The line goes dead, and I stare at my phone for a few minutes trying to understand what just happened.

“Okay. I’m a little confused, but I’ll take it.” I mutter to myself as I put my backpack away, shove my clinical bag in the closet, and head back to the bedroom. I shimmy out of my scrubs, tossing them in my hamper before digging through my drawer of workout clothes. I usually just throw on whatever is on top and call it a day, but now I’m pulling everything out. Y/N, he’s literally seen you in next to nothing and in sweats, it doesn’t matter what you wear to pilates.

I settle on a sky-blue matching cropped tank and shorts and rush into the bathroom to fix my hair before I slip on a pair of shoes, kiss Cujo on the head, and I’m out the door. I jog down the stairs to the car he’s loaning me – he told me it’s decommissioned, but it’s still a black-tinted SUV and draws a lot of attention. I feel like a badass every time I drive it, and also that I might accidentally take out an unsuspecting mailbox.

I hear a low whistle and I see one of my downstairs neighbors, Max, approach with his hands on his hips.

“Who’d you have to blow to get that ride?” He says, grinning at me.

“Would you believe me if I said no one?” I shoot back.

“Not in a million years. Looks military-grade, like the cars they have at the FBI headquarters.” I watch as the gears start to turn in his head, and I just smile at him sweetly. “Wait a minute. Is this an FBI car?”

“A woman never kisses and tells.” I say, turning to walk to the driver’s side and shout over my shoulder, “It’s been decommissioned!”

“Who gave that to you?” He shouts.

“Doesn’t matter! I’m just borrowing it!”

“Can I meet him?”

“Hell no!” I get in the car and slam the door shut, buckling my seat belt. The gym I like is only five or six minutes from my apartment and I make it there in no time. I check my hair in the car mirror, messing with it until I’m satisfied, before sliding out of the giant SUV. I’m locking the car when a matching black SUV pulls into a spot a few down from me. I try to swallow my grin as I stroll over to Hotch’s car, and when he gets out my mouth goes dry. I knew he was muscular under that suit, but god damn he’s hot. He’s in a black tank top and black shorts and I want to do some not-very-pure things to him.

“Hey!” I say, kind of out of breath and I curse myself for it.

“Hey to you too.” He shoots me a disarming smile, and I turn and start to walk to the entrance. "Is now a good time to tell you I’ve never done pilates before?”

“Well, don’t come crying to me when you’re in pain tomorrow,” I say, and grin at him. I push open the door and swing right towards the stairs. “You’ll probably be the only guy in class, so I apologize in advance if everyone’s ogling you.” I wink at him, and he laughs.

“Got it. How hard can pilates be anyway?” He says, and I laugh at that, someone joining in at the top of the stairs. It’s Lily, the pilates instructor.

“Famous last words, my new friend,” Lily says when we get to the top of the stairs.

“What’s the AC status today, Lily?”

“Lukewarm air, so you’re gonna sweat, sorry.” I groan and Hotch and I follow her into the large room. I grab a mat by the door, and Hotch follows suit.

“Do you want to be in the front, middle, or back?” I ask, motioning at the space. There are only a couple of people here so far, so we have our pick of spots.

“Front. So I can see what the instructor is doing.”

“Smart choice.” We make our way to the front and lay out our mats. I immediately slide off my shoes and start stretching. I sit with my legs out in front of me and stretch toward them, folding gracefully. I flex my feet a couple of times as I’m bent over and then come back up, stretching my arms as I go. Hotch follows suit, stretching as well and before we know it the class has filled up and it’s time to begin. I can hear them whispering about them, the two girls behind us. They’re not as subtle as they think they are. I glance at Hotch and mutter, “Well, it looks like you’ve already got two admirers,” and minutely jerk my head in their direction. He just grins at me and shrugs and I roll my eyes at him.

Lily starts off slow, but by the middle of the class, Hotch is trying very hard to conceal his panting.

“Not so easy now, is it?” I say, shooting him a smirk. He glares at me and says,

“Shut up.”

“You’re not doing too bad.” I say, easily shifting to the next pose while he struggles, and I add, “At least, for a beginner.” He glares at me again and I just smile at him. When the class is finished, he flops down on his mat, chest heaving, and shirt soaked with sweat. It clings to his sculpted chest, and I realize I’m staring. I shift my gaze away, busying myself with stretching out instead. I finish stretching and Hotch is still lying there, breathing hard. “Do you need me to call an ambulance?” I ask, sweetly, and I hear Lily laugh. He scowls, pushing himself up and looking at me.

“You’re barely sweating, how is that possible.” He mutters.

“Well, I do this three times a week. Sometimes four.”

“YOU DO THIS THREE OR FOUR TIMES A WEEK? What are you a masochist?”

“Fuck around and you might find out,” I say, winking at him, and I swear the flush on the back of his neck isn’t just from the workout.

He catches his breath a few minutes later and stretches out as I pull my shoes back on. I roll up my map, tuck it under my arm and make my way to the back of the class, putting it away. A second mat thuds next to mine a few moments later and I can feel him behind me, his body heat radiating off of him.

“So, the final verdict on pilates?” I ask over my shoulder as we make our way out of the room, and he falls in step beside me.

“Hard. But good.”

“Not a man of many words, I see.” He chuckles at that.

“Do you want to get dinner with me?” I almost fall down the steps at that, and my hand grips the railing. He must read my response as negative when I’m really trying to get my breathing under control because the idea of spending time alone with him has me sweating. “I’m not expecting anything, I just want to get to know you better. You keep me on my toes – you’re unlike anyone I’ve ever met.”

“And that’s a good thing?” I ask, arching an eyebrow.

“That’s a very good thing.” He gives me a small smile. I’m quiet for a moment before saying,

“I would love to get dinner with you, but I really want to change my clothes and take a quick shower, if that’s okay with you.”

“Of course. I’ll just hang out with Cujo.” I laugh at that.

“Cujo would love to hang out with you.” We part ways at the door, and I get into my borrowed car and drive home with him trailing close behind me. I unlock the door and let him into my apartment, Cujo running up to Hotch first, instead of me. “Traitor,” I mutter at him, and I can hear Hotch chuckle behind me. “Make yourself comfortable, I’ll only be fifteen minutes or so.”

“Take all the time you want. I don’t mind waiting.” I make my way back to my bedroom and I’m struggling to decide what to wear when I hear his voice call to me.

“Hey, Y/N, what if we just get Chinese delivered instead?”

“Fine by me, I have a menu for the local place on my fridge. My favorite dish is circled if you want to go ahead and call it in.” I holler back. That makes my decision on what to wear a lot easier, I pull out a big T-shirt and a pair of gray joggers. I grab a pair of underwear and fuzzy socks and walk into the bathroom, rid myself of my sweaty exercise clothes, and turn on a hot stream of water. I can hear Hotch’s voice through the door ordering food, and I smile to myself as I step into the scalding water. I scrub my body efficiently and am done within ten minutes. I turn off the shower, step out on my bathmat, and dry my body off. I slip into the clothes I picked out, give myself a once-over in the mirror, and walk out of the bathroom. He’s on the couch with Cujo’s head in his lap when I emerge. I suddenly feel self-conscious in my lounge clothes, but I swallow it down. This man has seen me in next to nothing, an old t-shirt and joggers aren’t going to erase scandalous pictures of me inside his head. I settle on the couch opposite him, tucking my feet up under me and my hair behind my ears.

“Seriously, though, how can do pilates and still look angelic at the end of it?” He asks, leaning his head against the couch and looking at me. I feel the tips of my ears grow hot at his half-compliment.

“Lots of practice. And self-discipline.” He furrows his brows.

“Do you not like doing pilates?”

“I like the endorphins, but I mostly do it to look my best for the club. You’d be surprised how much of my paycheck goes to maintenance: waxing, hair care, the gym, makeup, outfits, and shoes. Yeah, I make a lot of money, but I’ve had to make myself valuable to get to that point.” He nods, and I can see him thinking really hard.

“Do you like dancing?” He finally asks.

“Nobody really ever asks me that,” I say, and pause, “I like the money. I like the attention, which I know sounds bad, but it feels good to feel desired. I like Tia, my friend I met because of dancing. But dancing as a whole? I’m not sure. There are a lot of pros, but there are also a lot of cons. Men who don’t understand boundaries, men who expect more than just a lap dance and pretty smile, men who think they own you. I don’t like that.” I watch his jaw clench at that. “I can take care of myself pretty well, but dancing can be very isolating. After all, who wants to date someone who literally takes her top off as a job?” I laugh a little, but it comes out short and harsh.

“Well, if someone doesn’t want to date you because of that, that’s their problem, and they’re wrong for not seeing you separate from your occupation.” He says and strokes his hand over Cujo’s head. Cujo lets out a heavy sigh and we both laugh at that, and it lightens the mood. There’s a sharp rap on the door and I get up and open it to see the delivery guy – it’s James, one of Tia’s regulars.

“James! How are you?”

“Good! Whoever bought you food tonight tipped me handsomely, so please thank your new boy toy for that.” He says, handing the food over. I peek my head around the door and Hotch just smiles and shrugs. I narrow my eyes at him but bid James a good night before shutting the door.

“How much did you tip him?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“Mhmm,” I say and take the paper containers out of the plastic bag. It smells so good as I set the food on the coffee table and my mouth starts to water. “What did you order?”

“Shrimp Lo Mein.” He says, reaching forward and grabbing a container labeled with an “S” on it. I grab my container of orange chicken and open the vegetable fried rice.

“Do you want a plate for the fried rice?”

“I wouldn’t mind one if it’s not a bother.” I set my container down and walk to the kitchen, pulling down two mismatched plates.

“Do you need a fork or are you proficient in chopsticks?”

“I’m proficient in chopsticks.” He says, and I can hear the smile in his voice.

“Well, that makes one of us,” I say and walk back to the living room, handing him a plate. We divide up the fried rice and I settle back on the couch. We make small talk as we eat, but it’s not awkward. It feels like we’ve known each other forever. He asks me about being in school, and what I’m doing in my clinical, and I in turn ask him about his cases (which he claims he can’t tell me much about, but I know he’s taking some liberties with that as I do get more than a handful of details about his latest case). We finish our food and set our plates on the coffee table, and he says,

“Oh, that reminds me. My team has been asking about you since our run-in with them at the bar last week, and Morgan finally conceded and agreed to be their chauffeur for the club. They’re coming tomorrow night, just giving you a heads up.” He scratches the back of his neck, seemingly embarrassed.

“And will their Section Chief be in attendance as well?” I ask coyly and watch as the tips of his ears turn pink.

“Well, someone has to keep an eye on them.” He says but won’t look me in the eyes.

“That’s good to hear. And tomorrow is fantasy night at the club, so it’ll be a different setting than you’re used to, different clothes as well.”

“Isn’t everything about going to a strip club a ‘fantasy’?” He says, miming air quotes on the last word. I laugh.

“Yes, you’re correct, but this is like witches, elves, princesses, pirates, all of that sort. We started it a few months ago, and if I’m remembering correctly, you haven’t attended one.”

“Keeping an eye on me, are you?” The room suddenly feels stuffy.

“Just staying aware of my surroundings, especially of men who seem to stare at me.” I shoot back, grinning, and he holds his hands up in mock defeat.

“So, what’s your costume?”

“I usually go as an elven princess. I’ve got fake ears and everything.” He chuckles at that. “And I typically wear a white wig with bangs.”

“Sounds like quite the getup.”

“People love it, I make a lot of money on fantasy nights. My friend, Tia, the one you’ve seen, always goes as a mushroom fairy.”

“What the hell is a mushroom fairy?” He looks genuinely confused.

“You’ll see tomorrow,” I say with a laugh. We continue talking late into the night, and we jump from one topic to the next with ease. It’s nearing midnight when he suddenly grows serious and says,

“Tell me your deepest secret.” I blink a few times in surprise.

“Well, Mr. Hotchner, that’s a very serious question for a first, whatever-this-is,” I say jokingly, but I know he can tell I’m deflecting.

“I’m just curious. There’s a lot I don’t know about you. A lot I’d like to know about you. If you’ll let me learn.”

“And there’s a lot I’m sure you don’t want to know,” I mutter, and he just watches me. Finally, I concede with a sigh and whisper, “Sometimes I worry that I’m not a good person. That I’m there’s something twisted and evil inside of me, just waiting for the right opportunity to snap.”

“Snap and do what?” It’s a non-judgmental question and I’m grateful for it.

“I don’t know, but sometimes I’m afraid of the violence I feel inside of me.”

“I understand that.”

“You do?” I ask quickly, glancing at him.

“More than you know. Thank you for telling me that.” It’s quiet, and I don’t know what comes over me, but I blurt out the next sentence quickly.

“I killed a man once.” His hand stills from petting Cujo but resumes quickly. I can feel his eyes on me as I stare at my hands and pick at my cuticles. “A few weeks into working at the club, a man started to take a special interest in me. He started to request dances, and then private rooms where he would say horrible things and try to get me to do things that aren’t allowed. Then he started to threaten me when I told him no, saying he knew where I lived, and that he was going to kill me and my dog. I didn’t know what to do. I told my boss and she just made other girls dance for him, never really kicking him out or anything. After what happened, we now have tighter security, and my old boss was fired for negligence. I always rejected his advances, desperate to find someone else to service. One night, it was really late when I came home, and as I was unlocking my door, I was grabbed from behind and thrown to the ground. It was him. He pulled out a hunting knife and advanced toward me. I scrambled back and as he approached, I kicked him in the crotch, really hard. He dropped the knife, and in a mad scramble for it, he pinned me to the ground, hands around my throat, intent on choking the life out of me. I had almost lost consciousness when I felt the edge of the hunting knife. I was able to slide it towards me and grab it. Without thinking, I slit his throat and he bled out on top of me. The court dismissed it, due to the fact that it was self-defense.” I collect my thoughts for a few seconds, then add, “Sometimes, late at night, I think about that moment and the power that I felt. He thought he was the one to be afraid of, but it was me all along. That’s why I’m afraid of myself. I have no idea what I’m capable of.” I pause and look at him. I’ve never told anyone that story except for Tia. He has a very contemplative look on his face but doesn’t say anything. “I understand if you don’t want to continue whatever this is, anymore,” I say with a dry laugh and glance away. I feel his warm, calloused hand grab mine, and he squeezes it.

“Nothing you say could scare me away, Y/N. I’ve seen and killed evil people, and I can tell you, you aren’t one of them.” My throat closes up and he has a sincere look on his face when I finally look at him.

“Thank you,” I whisper, then clear my throat, “Now it’s your turn, what’s your deepest darkest secret?”

“Well, mine’s along the same line as yours. I killed the man who murdered my wife.”

I nod and rationalize it, “Well, he can’t hurt anyone else close to you if he’s dead. Good riddance, I say.” I throw in at the end, trying to lighten the mood, and he obliges me, tipping his head back in a laugh.

“Good riddance indeed.”

I don’t remember falling asleep, but I shift awake when I feel a blanket draped over me.

“Huh?” I mutter, blinking slowly. “Oh, hi, sorry, did I fall asleep?” I whisper to Hotch, who’s standing over me.

“Just for twenty minutes or so. I didn’t want to wake you, you looked so peaceful.”

“It’s okay,” I reply, smiling up at him. “I guess I’ll see you out? Thanks for hanging out with me.” I stretch my arms over my head and yawn. Cujo is passed out on the couch beside me, and he doesn’t wake as Hotch helps me up. I walk over to the door, unlock it, and lean against it. “Well, I’ll see you,” I check my phone, “Tonight, I guess.” I give him a sheepish smile.

“I’ll see you tonight.” He kisses my cheek and jogs down the stairs. I watch him leave, then lock the door. The food containers are gone from the coffee table, and the plates have been rinsed off and are sitting in the sink. I smile to myself as I open the fridge, and sure enough, my leftovers are sitting right on the middle shelf. I brush my teeth and fill up Cujo’s food bowl before getting into bed.

It’s well past 1:00 PM when I finally force myself to get out of bed. I sit on the edge for a few minutes and collect myself, remembering that Hotch was over last night. I can’t believe I told him that. He didn’t need to know that about you. I scold myself. He’s a federal agent, Y/N, he’s probably done much worse than what you did. There’s something about him that I can’t quite put my finger on. It’s like he only lets me see so much, but despite that, I can feel that dark thrum from him, it’s something dangerous, akin to the feeling I had about him during the first meeting. He’s hiding something, and I’m desperate to find out what he thinks I can’t handle. I sigh and rub my eyes, Cujo sprawled across my bed and breathing heavily. I finally shuffle to the kitchen and make a slice of toast with strawberry jam, eating it over the sink, not wanting to dirty a plate. My phone starts to ring, and I walk back to the room to grab it. This time I check the caller ID, and I’m a little disappointed to see it's only Tia.

“Hey bitch, what’s up?” I ask, wedging the phone in between my shoulder and ear as I dig through my closet to find my fantasy outfit. We only have fantasy night once a month, so I keep my outfit wedged in the back of my closet so as to not take up what little space I actually have in there.

“I came by your apartment last night to hang out, and can you imagine my surprise when I saw you and your man get out of matching cars and head up to your apartment? When were you gonna tell me about that?”

“It’s not like that! We were just hanging out and eating some dinner. Tia, he came to pilates with me!”

“I’m sorry, a man willingly went to pilates with you?”

“Yes!”

“Did he almost die?”

“You know it. It was so funny; I was holding in a laugh so hard.” Tia laughs at that. “I’m sorry for not telling you. It was kind of a spur-of-the-moment thing.”

“I’m just giving you a hard time. So did you fuck?” She asks the question so nonchalantly and I choke on air.

“TIA! NO, WE DIDN’T!” I exclaim. “Jesus.”

“What? I’m just curious.” I can hear the smile in her voice.

“He’s coming to the club tonight. With his whole team. He said they keep asking about me. Remember I ran into them a week ago at the bar?”

“Ah yes, after your man heroically saved you from that group of men.”

“Stop calling him that! He’s not my man! And I’m the one who threatened to beat the shit out of them, Hotch was my backup, remember?”

“Okay, Black Widow, whatever. He’s coming tonight? On fantasy night? That man is going to be on his knees for you.”

“You flatter me.” I snort.

“We’re seriously getting the whole Behavioral Analysis Unit in the club tonight?”

“Yes, but don’t tell them I told you about them. You already know about Derek, but I swear these people can read you like you’re an open book.”

“Noted. What did you and Hotch talk about?”

“Nothing really, just chatted.”

“Yeah, sure. And how long was he over at your apartment?” I go quiet at that. “That’s what I thought. All I’m saying is, get your bag, get your mans, and get the hell out. I don’t care how many people you have to step on to do it, me included. I’ve seen the way he watches you; he would do anything for you if you simply asked.”

“Tia, now you’re reading into things. Last time I checked, you’re not a profiler.”

“I’m a dancer. That’s just as good, you forget that we know how to read people too. Use it to your advantage.” I finally find my outfit in the back of the closet and pull it out, throwing it onto the bed.

“You’re talking like I’m going to war, not getting a boyfriend.”

“Well, hopefully, you’ll be getting a husband.”

“Tia! God! We’ve hung out once! We’re not getting married!”

“You say that now. I’ll ask again a few months from now and see where you’re standing.”

“I’m hanging up now. I’ll see you later.” I end the call and toss my phone onto the bed. I groan. Tia can be up to no good a lot of the time, but I don’t know what’s gotten into her lately. All she can talk about is how Hotch looks at me, and believe me, I’ve noticed that myself.

I busy myself with homework for the next few hours; I’ve got a big test next week and I really want to do well on it. I heat up the leftover Chinese food midafternoon and eat it, still studying. I take Cujo on a walk closer to 4:00 PM and then gather all my stuff to get ready at the club. I kiss Cujo on his nose before carrying my bag and outfit to the car. I drive to work, parking closer to the entrance than normal. I’m not taking any chances after being followed last week.

Tia’s already inside getting ready – her fantasy night looks are always extravagant and take a lot of time to put together, so she always shows up earlier than me. She’s halfway through her makeup when I sit down next to her and dig around for my makeup bag. I find my primer and get to work. I go with a dark eye with gold winged eyeliner, dramatic lashes, and black lipstick. Tia helps me get my wig on and secured, and then I put my fake elf ears on and slip into my dress. Tia buckles my shoes for me, and I glance at myself in the mirror and grin. I’ve always loved fantasy nights – a night where I can pretend to be someone else for a few hours. I look every bit like the dark-elven fantasy I’m trying to capture. I wait for Tia to finish her makeup and we chat; it only takes her fifteen more minutes and then I help her into her baby doll dress that she hand-painted to look like a red mushroom.

“There you go, my little mushroom fairy,” I say, patting her on the shoulders when I finish zipping up her dress. She does a little twirl for me, and I laugh. “Come on, let’s get out there and make some money.” We make our way into the club and it’s starting to fill up quickly. I don’t have any stage sets tonight, due to my dress being a little longer than usual. I fidget, nervously adjusting the gold caps on my cape as I survey the crowd. Tia’s already run off somewhere, so I’m alone.

“Look at you, baby girl!” I hear from my left and I let out a sigh of relief when I turn to see Morgan approaching me with a grin on his face.

“Morgan! It’s so good to see you. Hotch said you and the team would be here tonight.”

“Hanging out with Hotch, are you?” My cheeks grow hot at the insinuation. “Just messing with you. God knows Hotch needs some loosening up. Do you know how many times I had to ask him to come here with me? I asked for months. When he finally conceded, all it took was one look at you for him to ask me to come back with him.” My jaw drops a little bit. Morgan just winks at me, offering up his arm. “Want to come and talk to the team?”

“Lead the way, Agent Morgan,” I say, and he chuckles. We walk towards the back left corner of the club, and sure enough, the team is commandeering an entire table. Penelope shrieks when she sees me, jumping out of her seat and rushing over to grab me in a hug.

“You look like someone straight out of a fantasy game! You’re stunning! I’m literally obsessed with you.” She speaks quickly, smiling at me.

“Thank you,” I reply and give her a small smile. JJ and Emily echo her sentiments. I feel suddenly shy as I turn to Hotch. “Well, what do you think?” I say low enough so only he can hear as I approach him.

“You look like an evil queen. I like it.” My cheeks grow hot, and I glance down.

“I need to go make some money, I’ll be back though, I promise,” I say to the whole team. “Please, enjoy yourself!” And with that, I make my way into the dense crowd.

I’m true to my word. I’m back an hour later and eight hundred dollars richer. I take note of Hotch’s body language as I approach. He sits up straighter, eyes always following me. God damn it, Tia’s right, we are profilers…kind of. He looks me over like he’s assessing for damage, or he just wants to look his fill. I approach him, and lean down to whisper in his ear,

“Can I sit in your lap? There are not really any open chairs here.” I glance at him, and he nods, shifting so I can sit in his lap. I feel the whole team pause for a split second, then continue their conversation, trying really hard not to stare. It gives me the opportunity to whisper in his ear, “I’m feeling generous, so I won’t make you pay for this.” He lets out a loud laugh at that and the table grows quiet again before quickly picking back up.

“Thanks for sparing my wallet.” He murmurs in my ear, and I feel the hair on the back of my neck stand up. This is the closest we’ve been since that first meeting when I laid him out. I lean back and rest my back on his broad chest before joining in on the team’s conversation. They’re currently trying to figure out how many times Dr. Reid, whom I just met, is going to get propositioned. I laugh at this.

“How many times has it been so far?”

“Three!” Morgan exclaims, “Unbelievable!”

“Not really. You’d be surprised how many girls prefer nerdy guys over, hmm, muscle head men like you, Derek?” I say with a smirk, quirking an eyebrow at him. Emily laughs at this, and JJ even smiles into her drink.

“Aren’t you going to fawn over Dr. Reid as well, Y/N?” Hotch whispers in my ear. I twist my head back to look at him before simply saying,

“He’s not my type.” I wink at him, turning back around and the team busies themselves with not looking at us. At that moment, I see a man making his way towards us. “Oh, fuck, come on!” I groan. The team looks confused, so I elaborate quickly. “The man that’s approaching kept trying to get handsy with me earlier. His hand literally tried to go up my skirt.” I feel Hotch stiffen underneath me, a hand coming to rest on my hip.

“Hey, why’d you leave?” He says, coming up to the table, oblivious to the federal agents – one whose lap I was literally sitting in.

“I got bored. Please leave me alone, I’m with someone right now.” The man looks Hotch over, and I feel his grip tighten on me.

The man snorts. “Yeah, right. Why don’t you come with me, and I’ll show you what a real man is like.” Hotch’s anger is rolling off of him in waves.

“If you keep bothering me, I’m going to get security and have them kick you out. You already tried to grope me; they would love to kick you out just for that.”

“Fucking bitch.” The man says, lunging forward and grabbing my wrist, pulling me out of Hotch’s lap, but he isn’t too far behind, and as I trip over my shoe, he’s quick to catch me, his arm slinging low around my waist.

“Leave her alone or you’ll regret it.” His tone is dangerously low, and I know if I were to look into his eyes right now, they would only show the promise of violence, not the man who always laughs at my jokes.

“I’ll get a hold of you eventually, bitch.” The man spats, finally letting go of my wrist and he shoots Hotch and me a hateful glare as he retreats into the crowd. I massage my wrist, holding it close to my chest. Hotch turns me around, taking my wrist into his hand.

“Does it hurt?”

“A little bit. Doesn’t feel broken though, so I’ll be okay. It’ll probably just bruise.” His gaze darkens at that.

“Are you okay?” He asks quietly, eyes searching mine. I just nod and he takes a seat again, making room for me. I step over on shaky legs from the adrenaline and position myself in Hotch’s lap again. He starts absentmindedly tracing patterns onto my thigh, and my mind narrows down to the feeling of his hand on my leg. I know he’s just trying to calm me down after the confrontation, but I feel like I’m manually breathing as he continues, before quickly remembering who else is at this table. I calm my breathing, forcing myself to talk to them when talking to anyone but Hotch is the last thing I want to do right now. If he’s aware of the effect he has on me, he doesn’t show it.

Before I know it, an hour has passed, and I’m really enjoying talking to his team. They’re funny, and I find myself easily trusting them. I lean back to whisper to Hotch,

“I’m gonna go and make more money.”

“Will you be okay?”

“I think you know I’m more than capable.” He grins at that.

“Indeed, I do.” His hand retracts from my thigh, and I feel like I can breathe again. I slip out of his lap.

“Where you off to, baby girl?”

“To do my damn job, Morgan!” I shout over my shoulder and push my way back into the crowd.

I just finished giving a lap dance to one of my regulars when I feel strong fingers grab my shoulder. I turn around, seeing who has the audacity to touch me that rudely and I’m face to face with the man from earlier. I try to wriggle out of his grasp, but he’s got me backed into a corner. To anyone else, this would just look like a more intimate moment, no one would suspect anything.

“Get the fuck off of me!” I shout over the loud music.

“You made me look bad, little girl. Now, you’re gonna pay for it.” He raises his hand to strike me, and I’m pinned in the corner, with no room to move. I brace myself for the blow that never comes. I open my eyes and see that Hotch’s large hand has closed around the man’s wrist. He pulls, hard, and the man goes flying back and lands on his ass.

“I told you to leave her alone.” He growls, and many eyes are starting to watch us. Hotch starts to advance on the man, nothing kind left in his eyes. I rush up and grab his bicep.

“Hotch. Not here. This is not the time or place to make a scene.” I hiss. “I’m fine.” He won’t stop. “Hotch. Look at me, I’m fine.” I squeeze his arm, hard. The last thing we need in the club is an incident. He finally turns and looks at me. “I’m fine. Let’s just get security and have them kick him out, okay? I don’t need you getting kicked out too because you beat this man into a bloody pulp.” He just nods, jaw clenched tight, and I run to get security. They quickly kick the man out, telling him he’s no longer welcome in this establishment. He looks pissed, but not as pissed as Hotch, and frankly, he should be more afraid of Hotch than anyone else at this present moment. If looks could kill, that man would be dead in a heartbeat. When the man is firmly out the door, Hotch turns and grabs my face in his hands, searching it. “See? I told you, I’m fine. I thought for sure you were gonna shoot him.”

“I wanted to.” He finally grumbled. The first words he’s said to me since the altercation.

“You scared the shit out of me, Hotch. I thought you were going to murder him.” I say, looking up at him. And I can see it in his eyes – just how deep the darkness goes. Despite that, there’s not an ounce of fear in my body, as if my darkness acknowledges him and welcomes him in. What secrets are you hiding, Aaron Hotchner?

Finally satisfied that I’m okay, he grabs my hand and leads me back to the table.

“Morgan, are they still teaching that self-defense class this weekend?” He asks, his voice clipped.

“Hotch.”

“Yeah, 11:00 AM at the recreation field, why?”

“Y/N will be there.”

“Hotch,” I say again, yanking on his hand. “I can take care of myself.”

“And I would feel better if you attended the self-defense class.” He shoots back. Neither of us budges for a few seconds, just two stubborn people staring each other down before I sigh.

“Fine. I’ll do it.” Hotch nods, pleased. I narrow my eyes at him.

“Lover’s quarrel?” Morgan jabs and Hotch shoots him a glare so harsh that he holds his hands up in mock defeat. “Forget I asked,” he mutters.

“Keep an eye on her. I have some business to attend to.” He shoots me a look as if to not ask questions, and there’s a glint in his gaze, something hard and unyielding, and I just nod. I’m not sure if I want to know what he’s about to do, but the less I know the better. He turns and leaves.

“What the hell happened?” Emily asks, and I recount the incident to them and they all grimace. “Is this a common occurrence with your occupation?” She asks kindly, not judgmental at all.

“You’d be surprised, but things like this don’t happen all that often. There are a few outliers here and there, but people are respectful for the most part.” My mind flashes back to that night, and I push it quickly out. Now is not the time to be thinking about that. “They’re typically whipped into shape when they get threatened the first time.”

“And the more persistent ones?” I grin.

“They get kicked out. Sometimes I like to kick out the ones who are harassing me. It’s very emasculating to be talked down to by a woman and then kicked out on your ass. I enjoy it. But I only do it to the guys I deem as not dangerous.” JJ looks sick to her stomach and Dr. Reid looks appalled, but Morgan just grins.

“No wonder Hotch likes you; you have as much fire in your veins as he does.” I laugh and it lightens the mood. I talk with them for a few more minutes before saying, “I think I’m actually gonna call it a night, I’ve made enough. Thanks for coming you guys. I’d love to hang out with you all again.” The girls all give me a hug and bid me goodnight. I pass Tia on my way back to the locker room and she waves at me from someone’s lap. I wave back, grab my stuff, and walk to my car. I drive home, radio off, just spending some time in my own head. I park and head into my apartment, Cujo greeting me at the door like always. I fall into my routine quietly, eating a late-night snack as I undress, unpin my wig, and use a makeup wipe to get my makeup off. I take a long shower, needing to decompress after tonight. I’m out of the shower and in my pajamas when there’s a knock at my door. It’s 3:00 AM, and no one should be knocking on my door. I quickly grab my gun from the ottoman, holding it in my dominant hand. My peephole has been warped for ages now, distorting the image of whoever is outside of my door. I rip open the door, holding the gun up.

“JESUS HOTCH!” I shout, then realize he’s wounded. I click the safety on and toss the gun on my entryway table. “What the fuck? Get inside!” He walks inside, teeth grinding as he holds his hand to his arm. “What the hell happened to you?” I say, peeling his hand away from his arm quickly. His shirt is stained red. I swear again. “Sit on the couch. And don’t move.” I grab my clinical bag from the bedroom, dig around and find my gauze pads. “These aren’t the most sterile, but they’ll do.”

“That’s fine.” His words are short, leaning back on the couch. I chuck a bottle of ibuprofen at him, and he catches it easily, opens it, and swallows four pills dry.

“What the fuck, Hotch. Showing up on my door at three in the morning bleeding? Who does that? That’s what a hospital is for!” I’m rambling in my panic.

“I know, I’m sorry.”

“Take off your shirt, I need to assess the damage. His arm is stiff as he attempts to remove his dress shirt. “Do I need to cut your shirt off you, idiot?” I ask and he just sighs and nods. I grab my scissors from my bag and make quick work of his dark blue shirt. Thank god he has a t-shirt on underneath it. “You have to take your hand away from the wound for me to assess it,” I say quietly, gently pulling his bloody hand away. I let out a low whistle. “Serrated hunting knife?” I ask.

“How can you tell that?”

“The way the skin ripped, it’s obvious if you know what you’re looking at. I can stitch it, but it’s going to hurt like a bitch.”

“Do it.”

“Are you gonna tell me how this happened?”

“It’s better if you don’t know.” I pause my frantic digging through my bag and glance at him. He just looks back and I sigh, finally finding my suture kit.

“Do you need something to bite down on?” I ask drily and he lets out a small laugh at that.

“This isn’t the first time I’ve been stitched up on someone’s couch, and I doubt it’ll be the last. Go right ahead, sweetheart.”

“Oh, so now you want to pull out a pet name when I’m stitching you up on my couch? You really know how to get women.” I mutter, stepping in between his legs. I rip open an alcohol wipe. “This is going to sting. I’ll be quick.” I press the alcohol wipe to his skin, and he hisses, hands coming to grab the backs of my knees. “I know, I know, I’m sorry. I’m done.” I toss the alcohol wipe to the side. “Well, the bleeding has slowed, that’s good.” It’s only three inches long, but I’ve never done stitches on a real person before. “I’m really sorry if you end up with a scar after this. Are you sure you want me to do this? I’ll happily drive you to the hospital.” I’m stalling and he can tell.

“I trust you. The hospital will ask even more questions than you do.” He adds with a half-smile.

“Fair enough. If you need a break just tap my thigh. I’ll make it as quick as I can.” I unwrap the sterile needle and grab the needle driver. My hands shake but I take a deep breath and use the tissue forceps to expose the wound. It’s deep. I line up the edges of the wound and push the needle through his skin. His hands tighten on me, but he doesn’t tap out. I pull it until the thread is two to three inches long on the end, and tie three knots in the thread. I readjust the needle driver and push it through his skin again about a quarter inch down. I make quick work of the wound and he never asks for a break, just breathes deeply, in through his nose and out through his mouth. I tie off the last stitch. “I didn’t do a bad job, but it’s not spectacular.” I say, stepping out from between his legs. He twists his head to look at the mostly straight line of stitches I’ve left.

I grab the large Band-Aid I had pulled out earlier and unwrap it, gently placing it over his sutures. I then realize in my haste; I didn’t put on gloves. My hands are covered in his blood, staining them red.

“You, uh, don’t have any blood diseases I should know about, do you?”

“Nope, clean as a whistle.” I nod, retreating to the kitchen to wash my hands. I’m scrubbing them but some of the blood underneath my fingernails is stubborn. I try my best, then dry my hands with a paper towel. I walk back to the living room.

“Do I want to know what you did to him?”

“How did you?” I cut him off.

“I can read people too. You’re not as subtle as you think you are. At least, not when I’m involved.”

“He won’t hurt you again, I promise you that.” I decide to leave it at that, the man looks exhausted.

“Is your son with your sister-in-law tonight?” He nods.

“Come on, I’m not letting you leave until I know you’re okay.”

“Y/N, I’m fine. I can drive home.”

“If you’re making me take that damn self-defense class you can let me keep an eye on you for one night.” I snapped.

“Fine.” He narrows his eyes at me. “I’m not sure who’s the more stubborn one here.”

“And we’re not about to start a pissing match and find out.” I cross my arms. “Let me get you some clothes.”

“Y/N, you’ve done enough.”

“Shut up and accept my generosity,” I mutter and walk back to the bedroom pulling out a pair of lounge pants and large flannel left behind by a shitty ex-boyfriend. “Now, do you need help getting dressed?” I ask sweetly, trying to irritate him. He shoots me a look that tells me I’m already in enough trouble for making him spend the night. “Jesus, okay. Someone’s not in a good mood.”

I walk back into the bedroom to give him privacy to change. I give him a few minutes, petting Cujo as he lay in his dog bed.

“You decent?” I call quietly and get a muffled yes in return. I walk back out into the living room, and he looks so comical that I can’t keep a smile off my face. “Okay, come on, I’m not letting an injured man sleep on my couch.”

“Y/N, seriously, I’m fine.”

“I’m not in the mood to argue, Hotch. Get your ass in bed before I drag you, okay?” He sighs but follows me back to the bedroom. “I sleep on the left side.”

“Well, that’s good, because I sleep on the right side.” He gets into bed, grunting as he has to move his injured arm.

“You better not die in the middle of the night, or else I’m gonna beat your ass in the afterlife,” I mutter, pulling the covers over me. “Here I was thinking it would be an easy night, but, no, someone had to show up bloody on the nursing student’s doorstep.”

“I’m sorry. I understand if you’re mad at me.” He says quietly into the dark room. I sigh.

“I’m not mad at you, Hotch. You just scared me, okay?” I admit. In just two weeks this man has seemingly wormed his way into every inch of my brain.

“I’m sorry.”

“Just don’t do it again.” I pause, “Or at least give me a warning next time.”

“I’ll do that.” I hear his smile in the dark.

“Goodnight, Hotch.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.” I listen as his breathing deepens and he slips off into sleep. It’s a long time before I do the same.

chapter four - coming soon!

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persephonewritessometimes · 1 year

Text

me and the devil / hotch x reader / chapter one

Summary: It seems like another night at work, but will the dark-haired man Y/N keeps eyeing finally say hello to her?

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x AFAB Reader

Word Count: 2367

Warnings: strip club, cursing, hotch being kind of creepy, pole dancing

Key: y/n = your name

me and the devil series masterlist

This work is meant for readers aged 18 and over. You are responsible for your own media consumption.

The drive to the club is short, as it’s only fifteen minutes from my apartment, but I drag it out as long as I can, driving under the speed limit with all my windows down, blasting music trying to drown out all my thoughts. I get to the club only a few minutes later than normal, park, roll up my windows, and rest my forehead on the steering wheel. Dancing is the last thing I want to do after the day I had, but I have to make money. I hear a tap on my driver’s side window, and groan, sitting back up. It’s just Tia, grinning at me. I smile back. Tia’s one of my closest friends at the club, seeing as she took me under her wing the first time I showed up to start dancing. I motion at her to move out of the way, grab my bag, and get out of my shit-box excuse of a car.

“You okay today, Y/N? Bad day at school?” Tia asks, slinging her arm around me as we make our way to the side door of the Cat Scratch Club.

“Something like that. Do you know how many of my patients vomited and or shit themselves today?" Tia fakes a gag.

"Do I really want to know?”

“No. I’ll spare you the details. But hey, just one more semester, and I graduate with my BSN. Then it’s off to take the NCLEX and find a job in a busy city’s emergency room.”

“That’s my Y/N, thriving in the chaos!” Tia exclaims, and I chuckle. The bouncer, Alex, waves us in and we make our way back to the locker room. Tia takes a shower as I get ready. It’s a Friday night, and even though we’re just a shitty town in Virginia, the local FBI agents tend to come out in droves tonight. They’re most likely tired of the stressful jobs they keep and look to us girls for a little bit of excitement in their routine lives. I go through my skincare routine and start on my makeup. Even though it’s usually fairly dark in the club, it’s important to wear makeup, just as an enhancement of our natural beauty. I’m finishing up my eyeshadow, today opting for a smoky look with a dramatic cat eye when Tia returns from the shower.

“Damn look at you!” She says, sitting down next to me to start her own makeup routine. She likes to wear a lot of fake rhinestones on her face, and they look so pretty on her. She’s been begging me to let her put some on my face.

“Think it would look better with some rhinestones?” I ask with a sly smile, and she squeals.

"Yes, bitch of course it would! Let me do my makeup first, and then I’ll put some on you!” She rushes through her makeup, as both of us are very practiced at this routine. I put on some false eyelashes while I wait and then Tia asks me to face her so she can put gems on me. She settles on a half-moon of star rhinestones along the outline of my eyeshadow. I look at myself in the mirror and my jaw drops a little bit. I look sexy – very much unlike the day version of myself.

“What are you wearing tonight?” Tia says, slipping into a see-through purple dress and a matching G-string.

“I actually got something new!” I dig around in my bag and pull out my newest set – it’s a black corset top that I almost spill out of and a high-waisted black satin thong to go with it.

“You’re gonna make so much money tonight,” Tia says as I slip out of my sweats and cropped tank and into my outfit.

“Hey bitches! We’ve got a full house tonight!” Gina, the house mom, shouts as she makes her way into the noisy locker room. “Lots of FBI agent’s girls, you know the drill.”

“Get them drunk and bleed them dry!” We shout back and she chuckles.

“Think your guy is gonna be here?” Tia asks as I slip into my heels.

“I don’t know. He doesn’t show up every week,” I say, buckling the left shoe before moving onto the right one. “And he hasn’t even approached me yet so I wouldn’t call him ‘my guy’.”

“Whatever you say, sugar. I see the way you literally undress him with your eyes every time he’s here.” She says, winking at me.

“TIA! SHUT UP!” I say, smacking her shoulder before getting up and putting my stuff in my locker, locking it with a red lock when I’m done. We make our way out into the main area of the club after that, and split up, each having our regulars to deal with.

I just finished giving Edward a lap dance when I see him. “My man,” as Tia likes to call him. He’s leaning against the bar, sipping what looks to be whiskey and our eyes lock. He’s been coming for about four months now but has never gotten close enough for me to say hello. I don’t know if I’d even be able to say hello if I got the chance. To say he’s intimidating is an understatement. The man oozes power just in the way he holds himself. He’s over six-foot, with dark hair and dark eyes to match. Something about him makes the alarms in my head go off, he seems dangerous, someone I shouldn’t mess with, but I feel drawn to him all the same. I’m about to get up the nerve to go and talk to him when a man with a goatee approaches him. Wait, I know him. Derek Morgan. That’s his name. He’s a regular here, and he’s nice and always pays well. He’s definitely a player though. The dark-haired man’s eyes never leave me despite talking to Derek, and Derek takes notice of this, following the man’s line of sight and grinning when he sees me. I’m saved from any interaction when my stage name is called to get ready for my set on the pole. I wait for Tiffany to bag up the money from her set and fling my hair over my shoulder. I look out over the crowd and see several people turning their attention from each other to the stage. I get butterflies in my stomach, just like I did when I auditioned, but I shake them off. I’ve done this too many times to get nervous. I make a show of fixing my shoe (that didn’t need fixing) bending over slowly and fidgeting with it, giving the club a generous view of my backside. Someone hoots and I bite back a grin, trying to maintain my image of a sensual seductress. I slide back up, running my hands over my hips and my chest, then to my hair, under the guise that fixing my hair again was my only intention. A brief glance at the crowd shows that even more people are watching now, and Tiffany’s done, so that’s my cue.

I stalk onto the stage; people cheer, and I walk right up to the pole waiting for my music to start. “Closer” by Nine Inch Nails, starts playing and I sway my hips to the beat. When the words start, I grab the pole, swinging around with ease, wrapping one of my legs around it. I hear Tia cheer from somewhere in the club and I smile at that. When the chorus starts, I place both my arms on the pole, supporting my upper body as I contort my body to show off my assets. I dismount with ease, the crowd cheering and throwing money as I reset my position on the pole, now walking my way up it. My core burns, but I know I look hot as fuck when I do this if the money being thrown on stage is any indication. When the second chorus starts, I dismount getting on all fours and crawling towards the end of the stage. Several men come up to the end of the stage, all holding money, and I slowly make my way up, arching my back and putting on a show. Thankfully, these men are all respectful, tucking money into the sides of my thong and under the straps of my corset. I blow them a kiss and go into a floor routine. Those years as a competitive dancer really paid off, it seems. It’s getting closer to the end of the song, and I can feel his eyes on me. I easily spot him in the crowd, standing with his friend Derek and watching me with dark eyes. I put my all into the rest of my routine, coy yet lustful. On the last note, I blow him a kiss and the corners of his stern mouth actually quirk up in a smile. I blush at that, and Gina hands me my money bag to collect everything I earned. It’s a lot and takes a couple of minutes. I take my bag back to the locker room and lock it up quickly.

“BITCH I SAW YOU WINK AT HIM!” I hear Tia shout from behind me, and I chuckle. “Feeling bold tonight, are we? Now all you have to do is actually talk to him.” I groan at that. “Hey, it looks like he’s friends with our very own Derek Morgan, maybe that’s your ticket in?”

“Could be. If I’m going to talk to him, I need a drink though.”

“Well, you’re in luck.” Tia rustles around in her back and pulls out two shooters.

“Bitch, Gina will beat our ass if we have a drink that’s not from the bar!” I whisper, grabbing the shooter from her.

“Then drink quickly! Drinks here are expensive as fuck!” We crack the caps off and down the shooters quickly. She takes the little bottle from me, shoving them back into her bag. I don’t drink that often, so I always feel it quickly. My body is warm, from the alcohol and the general heat level in the locker room, and I sling my arms around Tia.

“Love you, girl,” I say, kissing her cheek.

“Save it for your man! You’re sappy as hell when you drink.” She chuckles, removing my arms from her. “Come on, let’s go make some more money!” I laugh and we head back out into the club.

I try to approach the man, but every time I try, a customer comes up requesting a dance, or a private room, and I have to oblige them. I mean, it’s literally my job. It’s nearing 2 AM when I finally decide to call it a night. I’m exhausted and I’ve been here since 9 PM. I tip the DJ, and bartender, and then pay the house before slipping back into my sweats and cropped tank, not even bothering to take my work clothes off. I put everything I need into my small red backpack and bid goodnight to Gina and Tia. I wish Alex a good night, and he tells me to be safe. I’m almost to my car when I feel it. Someone’s following me. I’ve got another ten feet, and though the steps behind me sound leisurely, I know better than to assume that. All the hair on my body stands up straight. I have a choice to make – sprint to my car and pray that I make it or take on whoever is behind me and make enough noise to alert someone. I quicken my pace, and the steps behind me quicken as well. I make my decision. I stop abruptly and whirl around, not looking at who is following me before grabbing their shoulder, moving my hips against them, and flipping them over my shoulder and onto the ground. Then I see who it is – the dark-haired man. He looks a little dazed and I feel like shit.

“Well, hello to you too.” He says, looking up at me.

“Don’t you know not to sneak up on a woman??? You could’ve said something to me rather than following me like a creep!” I exclaim and extend my hand to him helping pull him up from the pavement.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t think about that.” He looks embarrassed as if the thought truly didn’t occur to him. Men, they’re unbelievable.

“Of course, you didn’t,” I mutter. I watch as he rubs the back of his head. “Sorry if I gave you a concussion. Just a precaution.” I say, shrugging.

“I’m glad to see you’re capable of taking care of yourself.” Cryptic. “Where did you learn how to do that?”

“Can’t a woman have her secrets?” I say, smiling at him, and he grants me a smile in return. My stomach does a somersault at that. “I’m Y/N, by the way.” I stick my hand out and he shakes it.

“Aaron. Aaron Hotchner, but my friends mostly call me Hotch.”

“Your friends, such as Derek Morgan?”

“I assume you’re familiar.” I grin.

“He’s quite a regular here. But you? Not so much.”

“It’s not really my scene.”

“Then why come in the first place?” I ask, and he says nothing, just looks me over and I blush.

“I have my reasons.”

“Oh.” I push my hair behind my ears awkwardly. “Sorry, but I have to go, I have homework that’s due on Monday.”

“You’re a student?” He asks.

“Nursing student. It’s my last semester. That’s why I dance here – so far, I haven’t had to take out any loans and I intend to keep it that way.”

“Makes sense. Well, have a good night. I hope I’ll see you again. And maybe not get flipped onto my back.”

I wince at that, but he chuckles. “I hope I’ll see you again too. Maybe you can actually come and talk to me instead of just staring.” I wink at him, and his cheeks grow pink.

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Goodnight…Hotch.” I say, getting into my car. I lock the door, throw my bag in the passenger side seat, and let out a deep breath. Aaron Hotchner. What a pleasure to meet you.

---

chapter two

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#hotch x y/n #hotch x reader #hotch #criminal minds #aaron hotchner #hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #meandthedevil!hotch #matd!hotch

87 notes · View notes

persephonewritessometimes · 1 year

Text

me and the devil / unsub!hotch x reader / chapter two

Summary: It's been a week since her unfortunate first run-in with Aaron Hotchner. Has she scared him off, or will she see him at the club tonight?

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x (AFAB) Reader

Word Count: 3471

Warnings: verbal harassment, several men following reader, threatening of violence, strip club, cursing, morgan being a cheeky bastard, mentions of a dead spouse

Key: y/n = your name

me and the devil series masterlist

This work is meant for readers aged 18 and over. You are responsible for your own media consumption.

Another day, another dollar. That’s what I tell myself as I get off the bus close to the club. My car is in the shop – again – so I have to take the bus until it gets fixed. It had been one week since my run-in with Mr. Hotchner where I laid him out, and every time I think about it, I get embarrassed all over again. He hasn’t been to the club since – maybe I scared him off. Groaning, I grab my work bag and head inside, putting in my earbuds to drown out the shitty music in the locker room. Tia has had the flu for the past few days and hasn’t been to work, so I’m on my own again. I’m grateful that I packed my bag when I was in a better mood this morning and grin when I pull out my rhinestone set. It’s a rhinestone bikini top, with a silver thong, and a matching rhinestone skirt. I always make a shit ton of money in this. I shimmy it on, careful not to mess up my hair and makeup, give myself a once over in the mirror and head out into the club.

It’s already loud in here, but the lights bounce off my outfit, drawing many pairs of eyes toward me. No one approaches though, so I roam, looking for my regulars. I’m passing by the bar and the next thing I know I’m slamming into someone on accident. I’m mortified.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going.” I apologize quickly, trying to move past whomever I bumped into. A large hand closes around my wrist stopping me in my tracks.

“Hello, Y/N.” Hotch’s low voice reaches me, and I look up at him. “It seems like it’s your mission to kill me one way or another.” He chuckles.

“Oh, Jesus.” I use my free hand to cover my face. “Yes, it would appear so. Sorry.”

He’s looking me over when I peek at him in between my fingers. He gently grabs a trail of rhinestones from my skirt. “I like this outfit,” he says, letting go of the rhinestones and the land lightly on my leg.

“Thank you. It’s my personal favorite.” I sway my hips and the lights catch on me again. I grin and look up at him.

“That reminds me, I wanted to give you my number, just in case you were to ever need me.”

“I don’t understand. First, I flip you over my shoulders, I just slammed into you, and you still want to give me your number?” I furrow my brow as he reaches into the inside of his suit jacket. I see a flash of gold on the inside and grab his jacket, pulling it open and he lets me. “You’re an agent?”

“Yes.”

“Hmmm.”

“Is that a good ‘hmmm’ or bad ‘hmmm’.” He raises one eyebrow, finally fishing a small piece of paper out of his pocket.

“I’m still deciding.” I give him a grin. “A lot of the agents who come in here are handsy despite them being ‘beacons of the law’,” I say, miming air quotes at the last four words. He tips his head back and laughs at this and I wish I could bottle up the sound and keep it forever.

“And who fed you that bullshit?”

“I think that’s a Derek Morgan quote if I remember correctly.”

“Yeah, that sounds like something he’d say.” He slips the piece of paper in my hand and closes my fingers around it. “Put that somewhere safe, pretty girl.” He says into my ear, and I get goosebumps. I look up at him through my eyelashes and nod, giving him my best smile before turning and retreating back to the locker room. I immediately put his number into my phone. I slip the piece of paper into my locker after admiring his harsh handwriting. It makes me think about what else his strong hands are capable of. The rest of the night goes well, with several of my regulars coming in. It’s late – almost 3 AM when I’m finally getting my stuff together to leave. I slide out of my work clothes, putting on a pair of leggings and an oversized sweatshirt. I sling my bag onto my shoulders, bid Alex goodnight, and make my way out into the night. The bus stop is only a five-minute walk from the club, but the air is very still tonight. Something isn’t right. I should turn around and go back into the club and ask one of the other girls for a ride home, but I don’t want to bother anyone. I walk quickly to the bus stop, and I’m almost there when I hear it, a cough, and the sound of a voice. Several voices. Shit, shit, shit.

“Hey! Beautiful lady! Where you headed tonight? Maybe we can help you?” A voice calls behind me. Several voices laugh. I’m in deep shit. I quickly fish my phone out of my pocket walk straight past the bus stop and veer right, closer to town. Rita’s, one of the local bars, is five minutes from the bus stop and I know they’re still open. If I can just make it there, I’ll be fine. I don’t give myself time to think as I press Hotch’s contact and press the ringing phone up to my ear. He picks up within ten seconds.

“Hi, this is Y/N. I’m so sorry to bother you but there’s a group of guys following me right now.”

“Where are you?”

“Four minutes from Rita’s. Three if I pick up the pace.”

“How close are they?” I listen for a second.

“Thirty, maybe forty feet? Judging by their voices.”

“I’m at Rita’s right now. Be there in a second.” He doesn’t hang up on the phone, keeping me on the line, probably so he can hear everything that’s going on.

“Hey! Why are you walking away from us? We just want to have some fun!” Their voices are getting closer. Two people I can probably take in a fight, but it sounds like there are a least three of them. Those aren’t odds I’m willing to mess with. Rita’s comes into view and I see Hotch jogging towards me, hand on his hip – he’s armed. I shut my phone, shoving it back into my pocket. We make contact in the next few seconds, his arm coming around my shoulders and he hurries me inside the bar. Once inside, he turns to me, grabbing my face in his hands.

“Hey, are you okay?” I nod, tears welling in my eyes. “Come on, come sit down.” He guides me to a small table in the back, away from the crowd. “Where’s your car? Why weren’t you driving?”

“Stupid thing broke down again. It’s in the shop. I have to take the bus until it’s fixed.”

“Yeah, you’re not doing that. No offense, but even with an FBI office here these streets aren’t very safe after midnight. I don’t even let my team members walk to their cars alone when we go out. I’ve got an extra car; you can borrow it until yours is fixed.”

“Hotch that’s very generous, but I can’t accept that.”

“You can, and you will. I don’t want to lay in bed at night unable to sleep because I’m afraid you’re about to get jumped. Do you own a gun?” I nod, still processing the fact that he inadvertently let slip that he thinks about me at night. “Good. Carry it with you.”

“I can’t take it into the club.”

“Then don’t let anyone see it.” He raises his eyebrows at me. “Some rules are meant to be broken. And if it comes down to breaking the club’s rules and saving your life, I hope you’d choose to save your life every time.”

The bell on the door rings and the voices that were following me have come into the bar. I feel lightheaded and panicked, and my eyes widen when I look at Hotch.

“What do you want me to do? Scare the shit out of them, beat the shit out of them, or get them kicked out of the bar?”

“I kind of want to beat the shit out of them. How many are there?” Hotch glances back towards the door.

“Four.”

“Yeah, we can take ‘em.” He blinks in surprise.

“You’re a very interesting person, Y/N.” He says, regarding me.

“Yeah, well, I didn’t take martial arts for fifteen years to not use it. Come on.” I slip out of the booth, stretching my arms over my head pulling them tight, and then shaking them out. I pull the hair tie off my wrist and tie up my hair.

“HEY! ASSHOLES!” I shout. They turn and look at me, grinning, but those grins disappear when they see the man lurking behind me. “What makes you think it’s okay to follow women around at night, hmmm?” The whole bar is quiet, watching the confrontation. “I don’t think that’s very nice, and neither does my very, very, scary boyfriend. So please, step outside with us so we can beat the shit out of you.” They glance at each other quickly, trying to decide if they want to take on me and Hotch.

“I, uh, I think we’ll pass. Sorry, miss.” One of the men in the front says nervously.

“Don’t do it again. Or we’ll really beat your asses, got it?” I say sweetly.

“Got it. Sorry.” They duck out of the bar quickly and I feel Hotch’s hand on my lower back. The bar cheers and I give them a small little curtsy. I turn to face Hotch and he’s smiling at me.

“So, I’m your ‘very scary’ boyfriend now?” He says, walking me back to the table and I feel my cheeks grow warm.

“Shut up. They’re more likely to leave me alone if they think we’re together.” I avoid his gaze.

“Fair enough, my very scary girlfriend.” I can hear the smile in his voice but, I avert the topic quickly.

“So, what’s an FBI agent doing out at three in the morning? Don’t you have lives to save or something?”

“Well, seeing as it’s early Saturday morning, I’m off the hook until Monday at 8 AM.”

“Touché. But the question still stands, don’t you have things to attend to at home?”

“Well, my son is with my sister-in-law, so I’ve got an open schedule.” Sister-in-law. Fuck. He’s married. That’s my one no-no. I’m fine with engaging with married men in the club – that’s their business, not mine. Damn, and I thought we were gonna have something.

“Oh. I didn’t know you were married.” I shift in my seat, looking down at the table.

“Don’t worry, she’s dead.” I blink in surprise.

“I’m sorry, what?” My pitch tilts up on the last word.

“She died two years ago.”

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to make you upset.”

“Hey, look at me.” I feel his hand close over mine. I look up at him. “I’m not upset with you. Just being honest. It was a long time ago, I’m okay.”

“Okay.” I shift in my seat again.

“You can ask.” He says.

“I don’t want to be rude.”

“Yet you’re literally fidgeting trying not to ask the question. Just ask it.” He’s got a half smile on his face – strange for a man who just admitted his wife is dead.

“What happened to her?” I ask quietly and focus on his hand over mine on the table, rather than look into his endless eyes.

“She was murdered.” I look up at him quickly, and he nods. “That’s all I’m willing to say right now.”

“Of course, of course. I’m so sorry. I can’t imagine going through that.” He just nods and I change the subject again.

“Is your job dangerous? I mean, what exactly do you do for a living? Besides look intimidating as hell.”

“You think I’m intimidating?”

“Very. Why do you think I just kept staring at you and never actually talked to you?”

“Well, it’s good to know the feeling is mutual, you’re also very intimidating.” I laugh at that.

“Me? Intimidating? Yeah, like I’m gonna believe that.”

“Y/N, you literally just stood up to four men and threatened to beat them up! And yes, you’re intimidating, especially in the club environment. You know everyone’s eyes are on you, so you play a part, coy, seductive, it’s entrancing and very intimidating.”

“Well, I’m disappointed in you. You don’t seem like the kind of man to back down from a powerful woman.” I say, winking at him. His hand tightens imperceptibly over mine. “I’m serious though, what do you do for the FBI?”

“I’m a profiler for the Behavioral Analysis Unit. We catch bad people, killers, mostly. Morgan is a profiler too.” He says, nodding towards the right. I turn around quickly and see Derek Morgan at a table a few away from us. He takes notice, winks at me, then goes back to talking to three women – two blonde women and one dark-haired woman.

“Are they on your team too? The women?”

“You don’t miss much, do you? And yes, from left to right, that’s JJ, Penelope, and Emily.” I wave at them, as now all the attention is on me, and they all smile and wave back.

“They seem nice. Is that why you’re gone a lot? Working on catching killers?”

“Yeah, we get cases all over the country.”

“A well-traveled man, it seems.”

“You could say that.”

“I know it’s not in the US, but I’ve always wanted to go to Paris. It’s so cliché, but to be able to see the Eiffel Tower in person? I don’t think anything could compare to that.” I shrug, kind of embarrassed that I admitted that.

“You would love Paris.”

“You’ve been?” I exclaim and sit up straighter.

“Many times. It’s a beautiful city, you would fit right in there.” I smile at that, before yawning. “Oh, I’m so sorry, I forgot you worked tonight. Would you like a ride home?”

“As much as I’m enjoying talking to you right now, there’s no place I’d rather be than snuggled up in my bed right now.” He laughs and we slide out of the booth. We have to walk past Morgan’s table, and Hotch stops there.

“We’re heading out, Morgan. Will you walk them to your car when you’re finished?”

“Wouldn’t dream of doing anything different, Hotch. Hey Y/N, you work tonight?”

“Yeah, and many of the girls were upset that you weren’t there to entertain us,” I say, winking at him. He lets out a laugh at that. “I’m Y/N, by the way,” I say, shifting my attention to the three women. They take their turn saying hi to me.

“Hotch, you didn’t tell us she’s drop dead gorgeous,” Penelope says, grinning at me.

“That wasn’t important to the story.”

“Wait, what story?” I asked, confused.

“The story where you flipped our very unsuspecting boss on his back,” Emily says laughing.

“Hotch! You told them about that?”

“Well, how else was I supposed to explain that I couldn’t do field work due to bruised ribs?” He shoots back, raising an eyebrow. I wince at that and mouth ‘sorry’. He shrugs, placing his hand on my back, a move that does not go unnoticed by the four profilers sitting in front of us.

“Well, we’ll leave you to it,” Morgan says, winking, and I smack him on the shoulder.

“And I better see you shelling out a lot of money at the club next week, dickhead.” The women watch the exchange with amusement.

“Yeah, when can we come to the club with you, Morgan?” Penelope asks, genuinely curious. I feel Hotch stiffen behind me.

“All in good time, ladies. I’ll lose all my favorite girls to you guys the moment you show up.”

“You are welcome anytime, Penelope. We would love to have you. Either on stage or watching.” I say with a slight smile, and she blushes, flattered. “But I really do have to get going now. It was lovely meeting you all.” They echo the sentiment, and Hotch and I make our way into the chilly night. “Oh, you have a nice ass car.” I whistle low. The SUV has blacked-out windows and looks badass.

“Government issued.” He says, opening the passenger door for me and giving me his hand to help me get in the car. He comes around the other side and gets in. “What’s your address?” I give him the address to the Sunningdale Meadows Condos, and he frowns.

“Hey, no judging. I’m a college student, I’m just trying to get by.” He says nothing, just puts the car in drive and starts the short ten-minute drive to my apartment.

“Which number are you?”

“307. It’s towards the back on the left-hand side.” He finds the apartment number lit up just barely by my dim outdoor light. “Thank you so much,” I say, quickly undoing the seat belt and getting out of the car. I hear his door open as well and he comes around to my side. “Hotch, I can walk to my own apartment.”

“I’m not taking any chances,” he says, voice tight. He offers me his arm and I happily take it as we make our way up to the second floor and I unlock my door.

“Can I come in and check your locks and windows?” I laugh but he looks deathly serious.

“Jeez, Mr. Serious. Yes, you can come in and check them.” I walk into the small, but quaint apartment and am greeted by my dog jogging up to us and butting into my legs.

“I didn’t know you have a dog.”

“I got him as protection, but he’s a faithful friend too,” I say scratching his ears. “Aren’t you, Cujo?” He laughs at that.

“Cujo? Very fitting for a Doberman.” I smile up at him, and Cujo wanders over to Hotch, smelling him for a couple of seconds before sitting down and placing one of his paws on his knee.

“That’s really weird, he doesn’t typically take well to strangers,” I say, straightening up and watching Hotch lean down to pet Cujo a few times. “Cujo, come!” I say, walking back towards my small kitchen. “Check what you need to check, Hotch, so you can sleep tonight.” He chuckles and I scoop out some dog food for Cujo, pouring it into his bowl and refilling his water. I can hear Hotch checking the locks and I smile to myself. He seems like a very caring man if he’s going this far just to make sure a stripper gets home safe. “Bedroom is in the back – I’ve got one window in there,” I call out softly, not wanting my voice to travel through the thin walls, but it’s not as if my neighbors are that considerate. He brushes past me, hands pressing into my hips briefly to squeeze behind me in the small walkway. My breath stutters in my chest but the moment is over just as soon as it began. I hear him check the lock in there.

“Where do you keep your gun?”

“In my nightstand, like everybody else. And there’s one in my ottoman by the door. As well as a set of throwing knives. And a couple of spare knives in my underwear drawer.” He pokes his head back into the kitchen.

“I’m sorry, throwing knives?”

“It’s just a hobby,” I say, shrugging.

“You keep getting more and more interesting, Y/N,” he says, stepping into the kitchen and leaning on the fridge.

“Are the locks up to your standards, sir?” I ask, mockingly. I watch his eyes darken and I make a mental note to revisit that later, preferably when I’m not bone tired.

“They are. And I’m glad you have multiple ways to defend yourself. Cujo included,” he says, nodding his head towards my dog. Cujo cocks his head at Hotch and we both laugh at that.

“Thank you. For the ride. For everything.” I say quietly.

“Anytime. Give me a call when you’re up tomorrow and I’ll get you that car as I promised.”

“Hotch, seriously, you don’t have to do that.”

“I want to.” He says simply.

“Well, let me walk you to the door,” I say, yawning and stretching my arms. I turn and walk towards the door, opening it for him. “Thank you, again.”

“Of course, pretty girl.” He says and presses a quick kiss to my forehead before leaving my apartment, jogging down the stairs, and driving away. I’m smiling the whole time, and the smile is still on my face as I lock the door and get ready for bed.

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chapter three

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#hotch x y/n #hotch x reader #hotch #criminal minds #aaron hotchner #criminal minds fanfiction #aaron hotchner x reader #incorrect criminal minds #meandthedevil!hotch #matd!hotch

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persephonewritessometimes · 11 months

Text

me and the devil / unsub!hotch x reader / chapter four

Summary: Hotch gets called on a case and has no one to watch Jack. Y/N volunteers and finds herself as a babysitter for a few days. [exposition building!]

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x AFAB Reader

Word Count: 8141

Warnings: MEDICAL TERMINOLOGY, ANATOMY TERMINOLOGY, CHILD BIRTH [not too graphic but I will give a warning and a following summary for those who don't want to read it!], MENTIONS OF DEAD PARENT, MENTION OF BEING ABANDONED BY A PARENT one use of fuck, domestic!reader, jack is too cute for his own good

Key: y/n = your name

Author's Note: jesus fuck i'm so sorry i didn't get this out sooner!! finals wrecked my motivation and i hate plot buildingXD hopefully you guys enjoy, i've got some fun things planned for this story coming up!

me and the devil series masterlist

This work is meant for readers aged 18 and over. You are responsible for your own media consumption.

I got the call that my car had been repaired and was ready for me to pick up the morning after I made Hotch spend the night. We coordinated with Morgan to make sure all the cars got back to where they needed to go and I no longer had to rely on Hotch’s decommissioned SUV to get me places. I would lie if I say I don’t miss it though - I felt like a badass secret agent in that car. I ended up having to skip Morgan’s self-defense class on Saturday due to Tia having a boyfriend emergency, well, now an ex-boyfriend emergency, and because of that, I was busy all weekend. I promised Hotch I would go to the next one, knowing he’ll hold me to it.

I haven’t seen Hotch for over a week now, but he texted me and let me know that they had been called on a case halfway across the country so he doesn’t know when he’ll be back. I’m disappointed, but I know Hotch has to work just like everyone else. It’s a dull weekend at the club due to poor weather - I didn’t even want to go because it was so dreary. I go to bed early Sunday night, exhausted from work and school. My phone blares in my ear the next morning - someone’s calling me. What the hell? I’m disoriented, as I furrow through my blankets to find my phone, and when I finally get ahold of it, I see that it’s Hotch. It’s unusual for him to call me this early, and a glance at the clock tells me it’s just before 8:00 AM.

“Hello?” I say into the phone, voice scratchy from sleep.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry to ask you for this, but we just got called on another case and Jess is in California this week and I have no one to watch Jack. I’ll pay you well, I just need someone to watch him for a couple of days. I’m so sorry.” He’s rambling and it’s kind of amusing to hear his stoic facade disappear for a second.

“Hotch, slow down, it’s fine. I don’t mind watching Jack, I like kids.” I say, and I can hear him let out a sigh of relief.

“You just saved my life.”

“Well, if I’m counting right, that’s the second time I’ve saved your life,” I say, smiling.

“You’ve got me there. I’ll text you the address. Oh, and you can bring Cujo, Jack loves animals.” He hangs up the phone and a few seconds later my text tone chimes, and sure enough, he’s already sent me the address. I rub my eyes for a few seconds. I’m usually not awake at this ungodly hour. When I’ve collected myself a little bit and feel more coherent, I get out of bed, Cujo cocking his head as he looks at me, like he’s also confused as to why I’m up this early I laugh a little.

“It’s okay boy, we’re just gonna go stay somewhere else for a few days.” He huffs and puts his head back down. I grab the duffel bag from underneath my bed and throw in a couple of outfits and a pair of scrubs haphazardly. I pack up my toiletries in the bathroom and grab Cujo’s food and travel dishes from the kitchen. Thankfully I didn’t unpack my backpack after studying at the library yesterday, so I don’t have to worry about packing that as well. My clinical bag is also waiting by the door. I call Cujo to the front door and he whines but gets out of bed to join me. I slip him into his travel harness and leash before slinging my backpack over my shoulders and grabbing my overnight bag and clinical bag. I feel kind of stupid trying to lock my door with what feels like my entire apartment packed into my three bags. I slowly make my way down the stairs, mindful of the leash - I can see myself wiping out if I take one wrong move, and that would be embarrassing to have to explain to Hotch.

I get Cujo clipped in in the back seat and put my bags there too. I drive to Hotch’s house as quickly as the speed limit allows. He sounded so panicked over the phone and I know he thinks he’s inconveniencing me, but he’s letting me bring Cujo, so why would I be inconvenienced? I pull into his driveway right next to his SUV and get out of my car and wave hello to him as I go to get my stuff from the backseat. My backpack finds its way back onto my shoulders and I unlatch Cujo from his hook in the backseat and click the leash back on. He hops out of the car, surveying his new surroundings. I’m reaching to grab my duffel bag and clinical bag when a large hand grabs both of them before I can get to them.

“I’ve got them.” He says, chest very close to mine when I turn around and look up at him.

“Thanks,” I say breathlessly. I shut my car door and lock the car, following Hotch into the house.

“Jack’s at school right now, but the bus drops him off at 3:00 PM and picks him up at 7:50 AM. He does have the day off tomorrow, some kind of makeup snow day, and I was hoping to be here so I could spend it with him.” He trails off and I can tell that he’s embarrassed.

“Hotch, it’s okay, I don’t mind.”

“I already called the school so Jack knows you’re here. This isn’t really how I wanted you two to meet, but it’ll have to do.”

“How did you want us to meet?” His cheeks turn pink at my question and he deftly changes the subject.

“You have my number, call me if you need anything. I should be back late Wednesday night. Jack’s a sweetheart, so you should be fine.” I nod and he gives me a quick tour of the house, pointing out the guest bedroom, giving me a guide to the alarm system, and the garage door codes.

“One question.”

“Yes?” He asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Are you a ‘no animals on the couch’ kind of person? Because that might be an issue.” He laughs, and says,

“Animals are welcome on the couch.”

“Good. Now get out of here, I know you have a flight to catch.” He hesitates, face torn, and I add quietly, “Hotch, it’s okay, I can do this, I want to do this. Go do your job - catch the bad guy.”

“I can’t thank you enough for doing this.” He presses a spare key in my hand, kisses my cheek, and is out of the door in minutes. I lock the door after him and slip the spare key next to my house key on my keyring. Hopefully, I won’t get them mixed up.

The house is very quiet now that Cujo and I are the only one’s here. I’m not usually a nosy person, but as the minutes drag on I feel the urge to explore the house getting stronger. I worry my lip for a few seconds, torn between respecting Hotch’s privacy and satisfying my curiosity, but I ultimately give in, padding around the house and checking it out with more attention. I steer clear of the master bedroom, having to set a boundary for myself, plus I know the room will smell like him - slightly minty with a hint of evergreen and something that’s just man, just him - and I know the smell would make what’s left of my rational thoughts flee my mind. I find my way into his study, the large mahogany desk imposing and clear of any papers. All the drawers are locked, but at least three hundred books are in the surrounding bookcases. I look at the titles, but most of them don’t catch my eye, just textbooks, studies, and other papers of that kind. What does catch my eye are the dozen Harlan Coben novels. I’m not much of a reader, what with school and work, but I used to read Harlan Coben novels when I had the time. I run my fingers over the spines, recognizing a few titles, but the majority are new to me. I chew on my lip debating if Hotch would care if I read one and conclude that he wouldn’t.

I pull The Innocent off of the shelf, tucking it under my arm and retreating from the office. I settle down on the plush couch, Cujo already asleep on it and open the book. I don’t put it down until a few hours later, and only because my stomach started rumbling. I dig around in my backpack for a piece of paper and tear off an edge, using it as a makeshift bookmark while I snoop in the kitchen. Hotch told me to help myself to anything, and this man splurges on his groceries. I finally settle on a DIY charcuterie board, having cut up a couple of types of cheese, some lunch meat, and fresh fruit. I grab my book from the couch and hold it open with one hand while I eat with the other. I’m sucked in - I can’t put the book down. I love mysteries and this one with an ex-convict as an accidental murderer has my full attention. I finish the book in the early afternoon and carefully place it back into its rightful spot in the study. I force myself to not pull another book down, knowing that I have to work on homework now.

“I’ll come back for you later,” I whisper to the books.

I check the time - I have two hours until Jack gets home, a perfect amount of time for me to get some homework done. I’m currently in my OBGYN rotation, and there’s so much information I need to know for my final, which is only two months from now. I lose myself in flashcards and textbook passages when I hear the unmistakable sound of a school bus. I scramble to get off the couch, having been buried in my papers. I walk towards the door and open it, leaning against the door frame as I watch Jack get off, wave bye to the bus driver, and run up the driveway with a huge smile on his face. I smile to myself as he gets closer and then slows down.

“Hi, Y/N! I’m so excited to meet you!” He says, out of breath.

“I’m excited to meet you too, Jack.” I move out of the way and he rushes inside. Cujo, having heard the commotion, hops off the couch and trots towards the small boy.

“YOU HAVE A DOG?” He exclaims, dropping his bag in the entryway as Cujo greets him with sniffing and wet kisses. Jack giggles when Cujo licks his cheek and he’s petting him eagerly.

“His name is Cujo, and it looks like he likes you!” I say, smiling.

“Well, I love him!” Jack pets him for a few more moments before saying, “Wait! I think I have a tennis ball in my room, can I play out back with him?”

“Of course!” Jack runs off to his room and I kiss Cujo on the head and whisper,

“Good boy.” Jack comes back seconds later and we head outside to the fenced-in backyard. Cujo sprints around the yard - we don’t have a space like this in my complex. Jack starts to play fetch with Cujo and his giggles every time Cujo drops the ball at his feet are infectious. I sit in one of the chairs on the back porch - the weather has taken a turn for the better today, the sun shining bright and the weather is actually kind of warm. I find myself lost in thought and think about this house. It’s beautiful, yes, but I would think it’s a show home due to the pristineness. The only giveaway that someone lives here is the family pictures. The air inside the house is stale, I noticed it as I was studying. As if there’s no life in the house.

“Jack, I’m gonna open some windows if that’s okay,” I call to him, “Does your dad ever open the windows?”

“Not really!”

“Well, I’ll open up a couple, get a nice cross breeze in here.” I head inside, always keeping an eye on Jack, and open some windows. They creak and groan from disuse, but even with just a few open the house feels more inviting. After about twenty minutes, Jack comes back inside, Cujo trailing behind him and I fix him a snack when he says he’s hungry. He’s watching me, and I’m watching him, both of us trying to look busy. He reminds me of his father - eyes always alert and watching for something.

“What do you do?”

“I’m a nursing student.”

“So you heal sick people.”

“Well, I try to.”

“That’s really cool! How do you know my dad?” I freeze a little bit, not sure what to tell him.

“We…met at a bar,” I fib a little, “He actually helped me get away from some bad guys.”

“Yeah, he’s cool like that,” Jack says with a smile.

“You got any homework?”

“Yeah. Math. It’s confusing though.”

“Want some help? I mostly do medication conversions these days, but I’m sure I could help a little bit.”

“Yeah!” He runs off to grab his backpack from the entryway and comes back to the kitchen table, pushing his bowl away and pulling out a paper. I glance at it, and luckily it’s something I do know - addition and subtraction. “Once I find the answer it makes sense, but sometimes I get confused on the subtraction. Especially the double digits.”

“Hmmm, let’s see here.” I watch him struggle with the first problem, not having enough fingers on his hands to get to the correct answer. “I have an idea.” I open a bunch of drawers until I find something I saw earlier. I pull out a jar of peanuts and open them. Jack laughs.

“What are you doing?”

“Just watch! Okay, look at the first problem, 12 - 5.” I dig out a handful of peanuts and put them on the table. “Okay, count out 12 peanuts.” Jack laughs a little but does it anyway. “Great, now if you were to take away 5 more peanuts, what would you have?” Jack grabs five of the peanuts and removes them from the pile. He counts them and shouts,

“Seven!”

“That’s right! Let’s do the next problem.” By the end of the worksheet, he’s got a better grasp on the idea, and in the last three problems he doesn’t even use the peanuts to solve the problems. “Good job!” I say and he holds out his hand for a high five. I smack it lightly, and he says,

“You have a weak high five.”

“Do you want a do-over?” I say.

“Yes!” I only hold back a little bit this time and he whoops when our hands meet. “Now that’s a high five!” He shakes his hand a little bit afterward, and I feel bad about it. “Do you have homework too?”

“Yes, my homework is never ending, it seems. But I graduate this semester, so no more homework after that!”

“Do you need help with your homework?”

I laugh a little, “I don’t know if my homework is appropriate for you, buddy. I’m learning about mommies and babies right now. Gross stuff.”

“Ew! I don’t want to look at that!” I laugh again.

“How about I put on a movie for you and I’ll do my homework while you watch it? Is Star Wars okay?”

“I love Star Wars!”

“Good! Let me get it in the DVD player. Which one do you want?”

“Return of the Jedi!”

“Good pick, that’s my favorite one.”

“You like Star Wars?” He looks at me with wide eyes.

“Of course! My dad used to watch them with me all the time.” I walk into the living room, grab ‘Return of the Jedi’ from the entertainment center, and put it in the DVD player. It takes me a few seconds to figure out how to get the TV on the right setting, but I eventually figure it out. Jack sits on the couch, and Cujo gets up on it as well, putting his head in his lap. I watch as Jack watches the movie, absentmindedly petting Cujo on the head, who’s fast asleep. I bury myself in my studies again, knowing I have about an hour and a half to do so.

I’ve gone through my flashcards so many times it feels like I can’t stuff any more information in my brain. I finally sigh and paperclip them back together and set them to the side. I turn my focus to the movie - Luke Skywalker has just turned himself in to be taken to Emperor Palpatine. I watch the rest of the movie with Jack and when it’s done, he looks at me and asks,

“What’s for dinner?”

“That’s a great question. What are you hungry for?” He thinks for a couple of seconds.

“Chicken nuggets?”

“Great pick. I’ll go get them in the oven.” I gather up my things and put them back in my backpack - Jack doesn’t need to see a diagram of a woman spread eagle and crowning, that might haunt him for years.

I’m in the kitchen getting dinner ready, also throwing some frozen french fries I found in the freezer on the sheet pan. I’ve just put them in the oven when I hear from behind me,

“Are you my dad’s girlfriend?” I blink a few times before turning to face him.

“Um, we’re just friends.”

“Do you want to be my dad’s girlfriend?” He asks, widening his eyes. Oh come on I haven’t even asked myself that question yet!

“I…don’t know,” I answer truthfully. I don’t want to lie to him again.

“Well, he likes you.” I can’t hide the surprise that flashes across my face. The curiosity to know exactly what Hotch has mentioned about me is too strong and I find myself asking,

“And how do you know that?” The words are out before I can stop myself.

“He told me he met a really pretty girl who makes him laugh. He said that you’re captivating and he can’t stop thinking about you.” My cheeks are boiling.

“He told you this?” Jack turns sheepish at that and shakes his head no.

“I overheard him talking to Uncle Rossi about it.”

“Oh, so you were eavesdropping?” I say with a smile and his indignation makes me laugh.

“No! I was just listening!”

“Mhmm.”

“I swear! Don’t tell him I told you, he doesn’t even know that I know.”

“I won’t tell him, I promise.”

“Pinky promise?”

“Pinky promise,” I say, wrapping my pinky around his and squeezing tight. He sits down at the table and watches me as I cut up some fresh fruit.

“I like you. You’re nice. And you like Star Wars.”

“Thank you. I like you too, you’re fun to be around.” I say back and he smiles. It’s quiet until the oven timer goes off and I use an oven mitt to get the sheet pan out. I let it sit for a few minutes, knowing that if I plate the chicken nuggets and fries now, I’ll burn my mouth, and Jack probably will too. Jack is impatient as we wait for the nuggets to cool down, asking every few seconds if they’re ready yet. After dinner, Jack gets in the shower and I close up the windows, the air already feeling much better inside the house. I take Cujo outside to use the bathroom and clean up after him. When I come back inside Jack is out of the shower and in dinosaur-print pajamas.

“Oh, I like your pajamas!” I say with a smile and he grins up at me. “I have dinosaur pajamas too!” His eyes widen and his mouth drops open.

“You? Have dinosaur pajamas?” I chuckle at his dumbfounded expression.

“Yes, I have dinosaur pajamas. They’re actually in my bag right now, do you want to see them?” He nods furiously and follows me to the guest room. I dig them out and show them to him. Pink and purple stegosaurus, velociraptors, and triceratops cover the top and bottoms, and he laughs when he sees them.

“You have girl dinosaurs!”

“Hey! Boys can like pink and purple too!” He’s laughing at my pajamas and I can’t help but laugh too. “Come on, let's get you to bed,” I say and throw my pajamas on the guest bed. He grumbles but listens to me, and when I tuck him into bed he says,

“Thanks, Y/N. See you in the morning.” He yawns and rubs his eyes.

“Goodnight, Jack. I’ll see you in the morning!” I almost trip over a toy truck making my way back to the door of his room, and I shut off the light and shut the door behind me. Now it’s my turn for a shower. I shower with efficiency, wanting nothing more than to climb into bed. My thoughts wander as I do so, and I wonder how Hotch feels about having such an involved job while also having Jack. I think it would be hard. I get out of the shower and went through my skincare routine before I slip into my pajamas and get in bed.

Tuesday morning comes quickly, and thanks to Jack having the day off we get to sleep in for a little bit. He finally pulls me out of bed around 9:30, and I complain the entire time, which he just laughs at. I make us french toast for breakfast, which Jack fervently declares his love for, and then get dressed. I have one lecture today, Adult Health 4, and it’s at eleven.

“Jack, I know you don’t have school today, but I have school today, so here’s what we’re gonna do. You’re gonna come to class to me, but we’re going to bring your portable DVD player and bring a movie or two, as my class is two hours.”

“TWO HOURS?” He exclaims. “For one class?” I laugh.

“Yes, college isn’t really fun.”

“I bet!” We get ready and I make sure everything that I need is packed and we have Jack’s DVD player with a pair of headphones. He grabs A New Hope and The Empire Strikes Back, and we climb into my car. I make him sit in the backseat, as I don’t have a car seat for him and drive slowly to Stafford Hospital, where all of my classes are being held this semester. I park in the farthest lot, as is our rule since we are guests at the Hospital, and sling on my backpack. It’s unusually hot today, and sticky, and Jack starts to complain the moment his feet hit the asphalt.

“Y/N, please, will you carry me? It’s hoooot.” He whines.

“Jack, you’re six, I think you can walk.” He drags his feet and I concede. “Fine, come on. I hoist him up on my hip and he wraps his legs around me, resting his head in the crook of my shoulder. I want to curse but he’s being cute so I’ll let it slide. I wrap my arms around him, supporting him, and make the long trek to the hospital. Sweat is sliding down my temple when the doors slide open and I step inside. Jack sighs at the sudden cold air. “Think you can walk now, buddy?” He nods and I set him down, but he takes my hand as we make our way through the hospital and up to the second floor.

“It’s so bright in here!” Jack says, eyes wildly tracking all the people we pass. We make our way into the small lecture room, and I get Jack and me situated in two seats in the back corner.

“Y/N! Who’s your friend?” Jenna says, making her way over to us.

“I’m Jack!” Jack says with a grin, bouncing in his seat.

“Nice to meet you, Jack. I’m Jenna!” Jenna looks at me with raised eyebrows and mutters, “Do you have a kid we don’t know about?”

I chuckle, “No, he’s my…friend’s kid. I’m just watching him while his dad is out of town.”

“Well, you two must be really good friends,” Jenna says and winks at me, and my cheeks grow hot. Jack soon commandeers the attention of the whole class and he’s telling them all about playing fetch with Cujo yesterday. Dr. Pratt comes in shortly thereafter, and even she cannot resist Jack’s infectious energy. We start class ten minutes late because of it. I get Jack’s DVD player set up and his headphones plugged in and he’s contently watching Star Wars while I’m frantically taking notes on Dr. Pratt’s lecture and asking questions at every opportunity. Jack quietly asks for a snack about halfway through, and I’m glad that I keep a bag of Goldfish in my bag for emergencies. Thankfully, the pictures aren’t graphic today so I don’t have to worry about scarring Jack for the rest of his life. Class is over before I know it, and as everyone is packing up, I tell Jack I’ll be right back.

“Dr. Pratt?” I ask.

“Yes, Y/N? What can I do for you?”

“I’m really sorry about Jack. His dad didn’t have anyone else to watch him so I volunteered.” Dr. Pratt chuckles.

“Y/N, Jack was lovely, feel free to bring him again if you’d like. He was not a problem at all.” I let out a breath and thank her, making my way through the now almost empty room to pack my stuff up. Jack pauses his movie, yawns, and stretches, and I put his DVD player away.

“What do you say we get lunch, buddy?” I ask Jack as we make our way out of the hospital and into the humid air.

“Yes! Lunch lunch lunch!” He practically skips back to the car, I help him in, set my backpack in the passenger seat, get in the driver’s seat, and he’s suddenly quiet.

“Jack? You okay?” He looks shy as I glance back at him in the rearview mirror.

“Can we get McDonald’s?” He asks, his voice quiet.

“You know what, yeah, we can get McDonald’s!” He cheers and I smile to myself as I put the car in drive and make my way to the nearest McDonald’s. I get him a chicken nugget kid’s meal, as per his request, and I get my favorite meal from McDonald’s. Jack asked if we could get hot fudge sundaes, and I couldn’t resist, so those may have snuck into our order. By the time we’re done with lunch, it’s almost 2:00 PM, and Jack is falling asleep in his chair. “You need a nap?” I ask, and he furiously shakes his head no. I laugh, “Well, I think I need a nap, let’s get you home, okay?”

Sure enough, he falls asleep in the car on the drive home, not rousing as I gently carry him to his room. I run back to the car to get my backpack, not wanting it to get stolen from my car, and I put on a tank top and shorts, open a few windows, and take Cujo out back. I fall asleep in a plastic chair while sitting in the shade, and wake up when Jack shakes my arm.

“Y/N, wake up!”

“Huh? Oh, hi.” I say and rub my eyes. “What time is it?”

“Four o’clock!”

“Oh jeez, we slept for a long time!”

“Play legos with me, please?” I nod and stretch my stiff body as I get up from the chair. Jack drags his legos into the living room, we play for about an hour, Jack makes a Lego car, while I make a little house. My build looks shoddy and colorful, while Jack’s is more put together than mine.

The rest of the evening is quiet. I make dinner - frozen pizza this time - and afterward, Jack takes a shower, and I let him know the plan for tomorrow.

“So, you have to go back to school tomorrow.” Jack groans. “I know, it’s no fun. Your dad says the bus picks you up at 7:50, I’ll be up way before that, I have to go to clinical tomorrow so I have to get ready for that.” He looks confused.

“What’s clinical?”

“Oh! It’s hands-on learning. So I shadow a nurse in the hospital and they teach me the ropes. It’s really fun!”

“Cool!”

“Okay, so, I’ll see you off on the bus. My clinical gets out at 2:00, so I’ll be home before you get home.”

“Okay.” Jack yawns. I tuck him in.

“Goodnight, Jack.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.” This time when I leave, I make note of the toy truck so I don’t almost trip over it again. I take a quick shower after I lock the house up and close the windows. I lay out my scrubs for tomorrow, and make sure my clinical bag is packed and ready to go. I set my alarm for 6:30 AM, already dreading it, but I’m asleep soon after my head hits the pillow.

Wednesday morning is a blur. I’m frantically making breakfast, trying to eat it, let Cujo outside, then back inside, fill up his food dish and water dish, get Jack ready for school while also keeping an eye on the time, and by the time Jack gets on the bus I feel like I need a nap. I don’t have time for one though, as I’m out of the door by 8:00 AM.

-START OF CLINICAL DAY, THEREFORE MEDICAL TERMS AND CHILDBIRTH -

When I get to the hospital, I shuck my clinical bag over my shoulder and once again make the long trek from the back parking lot to the front entrance. The Labor and Delivery, or L&D, unit is on the third floor, and I swipe my badge to get in before I meet Dr. Anshaw in our meeting room. I’m shadowing Erin today, who’s a nurse practitioner and can deliver babies by herself if the need arises, and I get my shift change notes from her before meeting our patient in room seven.

“Angie? Is it okay if I bring in Y/N, my student nurse?” I hear Erin ask from inside the room as I patiently wait outside.

“Of course, bring as many students as you want!” Angie says with a laugh. I step into the room and introduce myself.

“Hello, Angie, my name is Y/N Y/L/N and I’m going to be your student nurse today. Can I please get your full name and date of birth?”

“Angie Lewis, January 8th, 1980.”

“Perfect,” I say as I check her wristband. “Do you know where you are right now?”

“Stafford Hospital. And it’s early spring.” She says, winking at me.

“You’re ahead of the game! On a scale of 1 to 10, one being no pain at all and ten being the worst pain you’ve felt in your life, where are you at right now?”

“Probably a six.”

“Erin, what stage is she in?” I ask as I turn to wash my hands in the sink on the wall.

“Almost to active labor. She was 5cm the last time I checked.”

“Angie, are we excited to meet the baby?” I ask and smile at her.

“So excited!”

“Are you a first-time mom?”

“Second time!”

“So this one will be a breeze!” I wink at her and she laughs.

“Well, hopefully, my husband won’t pass out this time!” I laugh at that.

“Happens a lot more than you think!” I pull on a pair of gloves and look to Erin for reassurance. “Is it okay if I check your cervix, to see how dilated you are?”

“Go right ahead, sweetie.” She gives me a soft smile and it eases my nerves a little bit. I check her cervix.

“Almost at six! You’re about to hit active labor!” I discard my gloves and wash my hands again as Erin double-checks and affirms what I felt.

“We’ll be back in a little bit, Angie. Hit the call button if you need us!” Erin says, and I trail her out the door. “Very nice, Y/N, she’s comfortable around you.” I get sheepish at that.

“I just like what I do, that’s all,” I say and shrug, and Erin smiles at me before saying,

“Don’t downplay your abilities. You’re already a wonderful nurse.” I help her with some charting in the break room and about an hour later I’m knocking on Angie’s door to see how she’s doing.

“Angie, how are we doing?” I’m met with the sound of controlled breathing - her husband is currently coaching her through a contraction. I’m washing my hands and pulling on gloves as they finish.

“I’m okay. Active labor hit about ten minutes ago I think. Contractions are stronger and closer together, the pressure in my back is killing me.” She says. “Richard, can you put my hair in a braid please?”

Her husband jumps to her aid, pulling a hair tie off of his wrist and holding it in between his teeth as he braids her hair. Once he’s done I ask Angie if I can check her cervix again.

“Seven centimeters, you are moving along quite quickly, Angie!”

“Thank god, I feel like I’ve been pregnant forever.” She lets out a breathless laugh.

“Are we wanting an epidural?” I ask, discarding my gloves and washing my hands again. Angie shakes her head no. “Erin and I will be in a half hour. Use your call light if you need us or change your mind about that epidural, okay?” She nods, relaxing back on the bed, in between contractions.

Thirty minutes fly by, and Erin checks in on Angie, her contractions are about four minutes apart still, and she’s only 8cm dilated. Another thirty minutes go by, and Angie is now 9cm dilated and feeling a lot of pressure in her back and butt.

“Y/N?” Angie asks, wiping her forehead. “Will you stay with me? I’d feel better if I had a nurse here. I have a feeling it’s going to happen soon.”

“Of course, I’ll stay with you,” I say, pulling up a chair. Angie begins to distract herself, telling me stories of her other child, Lily, who turns four in a couple of months. She stops when the contractions hit, then resumes her stories. They seem to calm her down, and Richard chimes in now and then. It’s not very long after before Angie says,

“I feel like I need to push.” I jump up, press the call light, wash my hands, and put gloves on. Erin walks in.

“Angie says she feels like she needs to push.” Erin nods, and now it’s her turn to wash her hands.

“Go ahead and check her, Y/N.” I do as she tells me.

“10cm dilated and fully effaced. I can feel baby’s head.” I say. Erin nods, grabbing the sterile towels and blankets, and setting them up before paging the doctor on call.

“Y/N, you want to take the lead on this one?” I blink at her in surprise. I’ve never coached a woman through birth on my own yet. Erin just looks at me and I nod, situating myself at the end of the bed. I’ll move when the doctor gets here.

“I want to push,” Angie says.

“Do you want the stirrups?” Angie nods, and I swing them out, helping her legs get situated. “Dad, come and help me here.” Richard jumps up, already assuming his position on Angie’s right leg. Erin is on the other leg. “Erin, when is Dr. Rawlins going to get here?”

“He’s not answering his pager.”

“Are there any other L&D doctors on call?” Erin pauses and shakes her head. “Well, it looks like it’s just you and me, Angie.” She nods. “When you feel a contraction come on, I want you to take a deep breath in and hold it, bear down, and push until I tell you to let up, okay?”

“Okay, one’s coming on now.”

“Let’s do this, Angie, deep breath in. Hold it. Okay, push, push, push. Good! Let up and take a little break.” We do this for a few minutes, and the baby is moving, slowly but surely. The baby starts to crown and Angie insists that she can’t do it. “Angie, you’ve got this. You’re a strong woman, you can do anything. Come on, deep breath in, hold it, bear down and push! Yes! Head is out, good job Angie! Bear down for me again, and push!” My hands are ready and as Angie’s baby is delivered, I catch her newborn in my hands, rubbing her with a towel as she opens up her mouth and cries as she joins the world. Erin’s already pulling part of Angie’s gown down and when her baby is relatively clean, I carefully place her on Angie’s exposed skin. The baby continues to cry, and Angie and Richard start to cry as well.

“You did good,” Erin whispers to me. A little while later the cord is cut by Richard, and the placenta is delivered, and that’s when Dr. Rawlins decides to show up. Dr. Rawlins is notorious for never being where you need him. Erin and I exchange a look as Dr. Rawlins assesses the situation, gives his good wishes to the happy parents, and leaves again. Typical. We get Angie situated to spend some time with her new baby. Angie thanks us both profusely. “Hey, don’t thank me, Y/N did all the work!” Erin says with a smile. I get shy.

“What are you going to name her?” I ask.

“Felicity.”

“That’s beautiful!” Angie gives me a tired smile and Erin and I take our leave after cleaning up.

“So, what did you think, taking the lead?” Erin asks, grinning at me.

“Can I curse?” She lets out a laugh and nods. “That was fucking awesome.”

“Good. I mean it - you did well. Now you’ll have an adrenaline high for the rest of the day!”

And she’s right, I feel great the rest of the day, and before I head back to Hotch’s house, I check in on Angie one last time.

“Hey, Angie, I’m heading out for the day. Thank you for giving me the chance to learn from you today.” I say quietly, taking note of Richard and Felicity passed out on the makeshift couch bed.

“No, thank you, Y/N. You kept me sane.” She grabs my hand and squeezes it. “Thank you.

-END OF CLINICAL DAY, NOTHING GRAPHIC AFTER THIS! tl;dr - Y/N helps a woman give birth and she thinks it's really cool! -

I head out to the parking lot and back to my car, getting home around 2:30, with plenty of time to shower before Jack gets off the bus. I strip off my scrubs and throw them in Hotch’s washer. I’m sure he won’t mind. I feel like an idiot trying to get it to work though, but I finally figure it out. I shower quickly, thinking back on my experience during clinical. I love shadowing Erin as she allows me a lot of freedom to interact with the patient, but getting to deliver a baby? That’s an adrenaline high I’m still trying to come off of. I step out of the shower, drying my hair some before slipping into my pajamas. I’m not going anywhere else today, I’m wiped. I let Cujo out back and wait for Jack to get off the bus. He’s right on time and sprints up the driveway to the front door, which I open for him.

“Y/N!” He shouts, as he drops his backpack and wraps his arms around me.

“Oh! Hey, Jack! How was school?”

“So much fun! We got to watch a movie today!”

“That’s so exciting!” He then looks at me and furrows his brow.

“Why are you in your pajamas already?” He asks, giggling.

“I already took my shower! I had a fun day at school too, and I needed to relax!”

“What did you do at school today?” He asks, eyes wide, and I chuckle at his comical face.

“I delivered a baby today!”

“GROOOOSSSSS!” He groans, running off to the back door to join Cujo outside. I smile to myself as I shut the front door and lock it. Jack is occupied by Cujo for the better part of an hour before he comes back inside and asks to play a game. We settle on Candyland, and the competition is cutthroat. I’m not going to lose just because I’m playing against a child. It was a close game, but Jack eventually won and gloated about it before stopping and asking for dinner. We do mac and cheese tonight. I cut up some fresh fruit while the noodles are boiling, and when it’s time to mix the mac and cheese, Jack asks to stir. I hold the pot so he can reach it and he furiously stirs the mac and cheese before letting me resume stirring it on the burner so the butter and cheese will actually melt and mix. We eat quietly, and before I know it it’s Jack’s bedtime. I tuck him in, and as I’m about to turn off the light, my phone chimes. It’s a text from Hotch.

“Jack, your dad will be back really late tonight!”

“Yay! I miss him.” Me too, buddy. Me too. I turn off the light and shut the door and head downstairs. I pull out my textbook and notes as I have a huge test next week and I want to do well on it. I’m so engrossed studying that when I check the time it’s already 10 PM. I hear the soft pad of feet that cannot be Cujo’s, as he’s already asleep on the couch. I turn and see Jack standing at the end of the couch and he yawns as he rubs his eyes.

“I had a nightmare and can’t fall back asleep.” He says softly.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, come and sit with me.” I peel my blanket off my lap and he wordlessly slides in right next to me. I tuck my arm around him. “Do you want to talk about it?” He shakes his head no. “Okay, well, you can sit here as long as you like.” Within twenty minutes, he’s snoring softly, head tucked against my chest. I continue to study, and I don’t remember falling asleep.

A hand on my knee gently shakes me awake. I blink open my eyes and find Jack sprawled across me, half in my lap, my hand resting on his head that’s resting on my chest and when my eyes finally adjust to the soft light on the side table light I find myself looking at Hotch.

“Oh! Hi!” I whisper, voice scratchy. “What time is it?”

“Three. Jack has certainly gotten comfortable with you.” He says with a soft smile.

“Nightmare. We didn’t intend to fall asleep.”

“I can tell that by the textbook that’s still open in your lap.” I give him a sheepish smile, and he helps me push back the blanket covering Jack and I. Jack’s at an awkward angle, one that Hotch can’t comfortably carry him in, so I get off the couch slowly, Jack never wakes up, just clings to me like a baby sloth, ankles locking around my back as I take him to his room and tuck him in. When I turn to make my way out of his bedroom, Hotch is watching me with a curious expression on his face, one that I can’t quite place. He quickly schools his face into neutrality, moving out of the doorframe so I can leave the room and shut the door behind me.

“Tough case?” I ask, trailing him back to the kitchen as he opens the fridge and grabs the rest of the fruit that Jack and I didn’t eat for dinner.

“Just long.” He says with a sigh, unceremoniously shoving fruit into his mouth. “I can’t thank you enough for watching Jack.”

“Oh please, you don’t have to thank me. I had fun. He’s a sweet kid.” Hotch smiles to himself. “He’s lucky to have you as a father.” I watch as pink colors his cheeks. He clears his throat,

“Y/N, it just occurred to me, and I’m so sorry I didn’t ask sooner, but, where is your family from? Do you have family around here?” I’m a little jolted by the sudden attention on me, but I answer his question anyway knowing that he’s just deflecting from my compliment.

“I don’t have any family around here. We’re from all over though, my baba and I never stayed in one place for too long.”

“Your baba?”

“Sorry, that’s what I call my dad.” I shrug, a little embarrassed.

“Where is your dad now?”

“I’m not sure. He was always away on business trips when I was little, so I had to fend for myself a lot. My mom died when I was three, never really had extended family, so it was just me and Baba.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay. I don’t remember her, though my dad says I look like her.”

“Do you have pictures of your family?”

“That’s the weird part - I don’t have pictures of either of my parents. My dad hated them, never took them, and never wanted to be in them. Sometimes I feel myself forgetting what he looks like, but I know if I see him in a crowd I would still be able to recognize him. When my dad disappeared for good when I was fifteen, I didn’t have anything to remember him by.” I pick at my cuticles as I overexplain the situation.

“Oh. That’s horrible.”

“Eh, it’s okay. My gut tells me he’s still alive, but I don’t know if I want to see him again after all these years. There was always something about him, something I couldn’t quite put my finger on. His name was Isaac Smith, but I knew that wasn’t his real name. It’s like he was hiding himself and his life from me. Sometimes I wonder if I’ll ever know who he really was.”

“Well, I hope you find out someday. You know, for closure.”

“Yeah, me too.” He regards me, studying the planes of my face, brows furrowed as though he’s trying to figure something out.

“When I first saw you, you reminded me of someone I know, but I can’t quite figure out who.” He shakes his head. “Oh well, maybe it’ll come to me.”

“Well, if you figure it out, let me know,” I say with a chuckle.

“Hey, why don’t we have Garcia do some research on you? Try and find out who your dad is?” I swallow hard and the movement doesn’t go unnoticed by him.

“I don’t know if I’m ready for that.”

He nods. “I respect that. But if you ever are ready, let me know, she’d happily do anything for you.”

“Thanks,” I say with a yawn.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, I’m keeping you awake, aren’t I?”

“I don’t mind,” I say with a soft smile. “I delivered a baby today.” I don’t know why I want to tell him that, why I feel the urge to tell him everything about my life, but I’ll give into it anyway. His eyes widen.

“You delivered a baby?” I nod, grinning. “That’s so cool! Did you like it?”

“The adrenaline is like no other. It was a baby girl, the mom was so nice to me.”

“Of course she was, you’re like…like a shining beam of sun, lighting up wherever you go.” He says the last part quietly, not looking me in the eyes as if he wasn’t sure if he was going to say it or not. I feel my cheeks grow hot.

“Thank you,” I say thickly, and then yawn again.

“Okay, time for you to go to bed too, come on.” He says as he puts the fruit back in the fridge.

“What, are you gonna tuck me in?” I say with a mischievous grin.

“Only if I can read you a bedtime story.” He shoots back, mirroring my smile. I let out a soft laugh and he leaves me in the doorframe of the guest bedroom. “Thank you, Y/N. You saved my life this week.”

“Anytime, Hotch.”

“You can call me Aaron, you know.” I blink in surprise. “Hotch is fine, but you’re welcome to call me Aaron.”

“Okay…Aaron.”

chapter five - coming soon!

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