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#aaron hotch x reader
headkiss · 3 days
Note
I’ve got a slightly angsty idea for Hotch if you’d like it:
Reader gets into an accident of some kind and ends up in the hospital, and Hotch is worrying out of his mind the whole time because he’s on a case or something, but all is well and it’s fluffy at the end and just love and “don’t ever scare me like that again” and all that good stuff
hiii thank u so much for ur request!!! sorry it’s taken a couple of months to get to </3 i hope u like it!! | 0.6k mentions of a car accident and a teeny tiny injury, and fluff (duh)
“Aaron?”
Hotch knew something was wrong as soon as you’d called in the middle of the day while he was away. You’d always wait for him to call first, to make sure he had the time.
So, the buzz of his phone in his pocket worried him. Even more so when he heard the way your voice shook through the speaker.
He walked away from the rest of the team, leaving their temporary conference room at the local police station and finding somewhere quiet before speaking, “what’s wrong, honey?”
“I’m okay, I promise, but…” you paused to clear your throat, forcing your startled tears back, because you really were okay. “I got in an accident. Nobody’s hurt, but they want to take me to the hospital to make sure I don’t have a concussion or anything.”
Aaron’s heart was pounding, and he had to remind himself that you weren’t badly hurt, that you were right there on the other side of the phone, talking and breathing. He squeezed his eyes shut and ran a hand through his hair, wishing he was closer to you.
“Okay,” he says, though it comes out in a breath. “Okay, I’m gonna try to get home.”
“No, Aaron, you really don’t have to. I’m not injured, and they need you there.”
Truthfully, you’d love to have him beside you, his hand tight in yours, his voice cutting through the ringing in your ears, his presence calming enough. But you knew what you were getting into as soon as you started dating Hotch, and you’d never expect him to have to choose between you and his job.
“The team is more than capable of doing this without me, I promise. I’m coming to you, alright?”
You know there’s no changing his mind, and selfishly, you don’t want to. “Okay. Thank you.”
“I’ll be there soon.”
He doesn’t want to hang up the phone, doesn’t want to leave room for the worry and fear that’s already creeping up on him, but he does.
The team, of course, is very understanding, reassuring him that they can handle this case and that he should get home, telling him to let you know they all hope you’re okay. He’s driving to the airport within minutes.
It’s only a few hours later that Aaron lands, rushing back to your place straight from his flight after confirming with you that’s where you’d be. His hand shakes the slightest bit as he slips his spare key into your door.
Aaron breathes your name when he sees you on your couch, a small bandage on your cheek. “You said you weren’t hurt.”
Your heart squeezes in your chest as he crosses the room and crouches in front of you, cradling your face in his hand so gently your eyes well up. The shock seems to catch up to you, the relief you didn’t know you needed just by having him near is almost overwhelming.
“I’m not,” you sniffle once and his eyebrows furrow. “I’m not hurt, I promise. It barely even bled. I guess it’s just sinking in now.”
You blink and a tear slips down your cheek, but Hotch is quick to wipe it away with his thumb. He moves to sit next to you on the couch, tugging you as close as possible, your cheek buried against his collar, his hand running up and down your back.
You can hear his heart beating in his chest, quicker than usual, but you don’t call him out on it.
“You’re okay,” he says, and Aaron’s not sure who he’s reassuring more.
“My car’s probably totaled,” you mutter against him.
“Cars are replaceable, you aren’t.” He drops his mouth to the top of your head, pressing a kiss into your hair.
“I was scared,” you admit quietly.
“I know, honey,” he says, shifting so that his cheek is resting atop your head. “I was, too.”
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juniperskye · 2 days
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Who Are You Again?
Based on the following ask: I had another plot thought! Aaron x BAU Reader (female or gender neutral) where Reader disobeys an order to save a victim and gets hurt really bad. Reader wakes up in the hospital to Aaron who is angry at first but then is shocked when it turns out that Reader has retrograde amnesia from the injury. Reader has forgotten their entire career in the BAU and even that They and Aaron were secretly dating! Last thing Reader actually remembers was attending a lecture in college where Aaron was a guest speaker and Reader developed a crush on him! Now Aaron has to carefully navigate helping Reader recover without outing their relationship to anyone else. Or maybe he wonders if it's better they forget? But for a HEA ending definitely Aaron doing something romantic sparks a memory and helps everything come flooding back. @nyxwolph thank you for requesting again and trusting me with your ideas! – I did have to change things up a bit (I struggled big time with this one)
Aaron Hotchner x BAU! Fem Reader
Angst/Fluff
Word count: 5336
REQUESTS ARE OPEN - not edited - please be kind. Requests are open and feedback is welcome if it's constructive!
Warnings: My blog is 18+, minors DNI, age gap, some language, BAU canon typical violence, mention of parent death, mention of kidnapping, mention of Haley and Jack, secret relationship, let me know if I missed any!!
That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story.
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“In chaos theory, the butterfly effect is the sensitive dependence on initial conditions in which a small change in one state of a deterministic nonlinear system can result in large differences in a later state.” Essentially, something as small as a butterfly flapping its wings could cause something as catastrophic as a tornado.  
Aaron wondered what small event happened that led to this moment right now. A moment that would change the trajectory of your lives forever.
*36 hours earlier*
“Garcia has the unsubs location; he’s headed down a backroad just east of the 95.” Aaron said.
“He’s devolving, he’s probably going to try and dispose of his latest victim.” Morgan chimed in.
“Not if we have anything to do with it.” JJ replied.
“His location is being shared with you all, everyone be safe, at this point he’s going to be willing to do anything to avoid prison.” Hotch added.
“I’m close by, I am going to go try and cut him off.” You suggested.
The team expressed their worry and care and urged you to be careful. The only thing you had on your mind, however, was saving the five-year-old boy this unsub had hidden. You drove as fast as your vehicle would allow, you had to get to the unsub. You had to save that boy.
As you got closer to the location Garcia had shared, you could see the dust trail the unsubs car was leaving down the road. You thought about your options, and you made a snap decision. Drive on, no matter the consequences – take out the unsub’s car. So that’s what you did.
You drove forward and your car t-boned the unsubs, only you hadn’t considered that he’d be driving a semi tractor. Upon impact, your SUV was crushed, in your rush to get to the unsub you’d forgotten to put on your seatbelt and your body was ejected through the windshield.
The accident was enough to stop the unsub long enough for the team to arrive. As they surveyed the scene, Aaron’s stomach dropped. He immediately began barking orders, demanding medics, and sending agents to the unsubs’ farm to find the boy.  Throughout everything he refused to leave your side.
*Present Day*
“Sir, we had to place her in a medically induced coma to allow the swelling in her brain to go down.” The doctor explained.
“Is there an estimate as to how long it’ll be until she wakes up?” Aaron asked.
“With these kinds of injuries, it’s hard to say. The brain is a tricky thing, and no two injuries are alike. We just have to wait and see.”
“Thank you.” Aaron said, shaking the doctor’s hand.
Your doctor made her exit and Aaron moved to the seat beside your bed. He gently took your hand in his own placing a kiss to the back of it before returning it to your side. Aaron had thought back to the night everything changed.
*One year earlier*
“Hey Hotch, here’s that report you asked for. You aren’t staying are you?” You asked, glancing at your watch.
“Thanks, and yeah I had a few things I needed to finish up.”
You made your way over to Aaron’s couch, dropped your bag to the floor, and shrugged your jacket off. You pulled your phone out to see what was still open for delivery in the area. Aaron and you had shared many nights like this, spending late nights together in his office. The two of you had grown very close over the years, so much so that David had outright asked Aaron if you two were dating. To which Aaron let out an awkward chuckle and denied the accusation. If only he knew.
“What are you doing? You should head home.” Aaron said.
“Well, you should too, and you aren’t, so I guess that means we’re ordering dinner.” You smiled at him.
“I love you.” Aaron said simply.
“What?” You were stunned.
“I’m sorry, that was inappropriate. I didn’t – I um….”
“Say it again.”
“I love you.”
“I love you too.”
Aaron made his way over to you, gently caressed your face and kissed you. It was everything you had ever imagined. There had been this tension between the two of you over the last two years and it was all finally coming together.
After that night, Aaron and you had agreed to keep your relationship under wraps, to avoid any potential disruption to the team, but also any question as to your position on the team. Aaron didn’t want anyone to question the fact that it was your skills and resume alone that got you to where you are.
Yours and Aaron’s relationship blossomed after that night, but not without hardships. Aaron and you faced a lot of adversity in multiple aspects of your relationship; you had a hard time trusting people, Aaron had been self-conscious of your age gap, and you both couldn’t help but feel that you weren’t good enough for the other (not that either of you would bring it up).
*Present Day*
A tear fell from Aaron’s eye, he couldn’t fathom losing you. This was all part of the reason he didn’t want to get serious with someone after Haley, but then you came into his life. You’d come in and made yourself known with your kind eyes and witty charm; how could he not fall in love with you.
Aaron fell for you slowly then all at once, it came naturally, and he couldn’t help it. He knew that the team had their suspicions and honestly over the last year there had been some close calls, but you had ultimately maintained the secrecy of your relationship.
In this moment, Aaron couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt and regret over the fact that he’d asked you to keep things quiet. Had he let the team in on your relationship, he could’ve done a better job at keeping you safe.
*2 Weeks Later*
Aaron had been by your side as much as possible over the last two weeks, which is exactly where he was when you started to stir. Aaron shot straight up in his seat, his hand quickly reaching for your own.
You couldn’t help the groan that escaped your throat, your body hurt so bad, and you felt very confused. You attempted to open your eyes but immediately regretted it – the bright fluorescents adding to the pounding in your head. As you blinked through the brightness of the room, you glanced over to your bedside, noticing a tall man seated there.
“What on earth were you thinking? Driving into the unsub like that, you could’ve been killed. Your actions were reckless and unacceptable.” The man scolded you.
You couldn’t find it in you to reply, your head was pounding. You brought your hand up to your forehead and gently press the heel of your palm into it, hoping to alleviate some of the pressure.
“Sweetheart hold on, I’ll go get your doctor.” A deep voice sounded from your bedside.
Before you could question the pet name, you heard the sound of his dress shoes clicking against the linoleum floors.
The man returned with your doctor; he dimmed the lights slightly on his way back to your bedside. He moved to grab your hand again, to which you shifted, wringing your hands nervously in your lap.
“Hello, I’m doctor Raynor. How are you feeling?”
“Like I was hit by a truck, what happened?” You questioned, giving your doctor and the man a once over.
You recognized the man; it was Special Agent Hotchner of the BAU. What was he doing here? What happened?
“Well, you were involved in an accident, can you tell me what you remember?” Dr. Raynor inquired.
“I um, well, I was leaving a lecture.” Your gaze shifted to Agent Hotchner “Your lecture actually, you were talking about MO’s. I guess the accident was after that?” You couldn’t help but notice Agent Hotchner’s expression faulter.
Your doctor looked over at Agent Hotchner and he shook his head. The two of them seemingly knew something you didn’t. You couldn’t help but feel like you’d just given the wrong answer in front of the class. Dr. Raynor had gone through the rest of your injuries with you, multiple lacerations that had required stitches, a few broken ribs, a broken wrist, and of course your TBI. Once she was done she gave you a somber look.
“Would you excuse us for just a moment? I am going to send in one of your nurses to check you over and I’ll be back in just a moment.” Dr. Raynor said.
“Oh, okay.”
Dr. Raynor and Agent Hotchner left your room, and you tried your best to listen to their conversation.
*Hotch’s POV*
She doesn’t remember me, well us. It’s like the last five years have just disappeared.
“Agent Hotchner, I gather that the lecture she’s referring to did not occur two weeks ago when she was brought in.”
“No, that lecture was nearly five years ago.” I explained.
“This would be a case of retrograde amnesia, if she’s lost recent memories.” Dr. Raynor replied.
“Will her memory return?”
“It’s hard to say.”
While Aaron was completely devastated, he couldn’t help the doubt that creeped into his mind, telling him “This is for the best”.
*Normal POV*
Dr. Raynor and Agent Hotchner looked extremely serious, and you started to feel nauseous. Something was obviously wrong. You watched as their conversation ceased and they made their way back into the room.
Something must have happened, why would Agent Hotchner be here.
“Alright, it would appear that due to the brain trauma you sustained in your accident, you are experiencing what we describe as retrograde amnesia. This is when you can’t recall memories from your past. Based on your most recent memory, it appears as if you’ve lost approximately five years.” Dr. Raynor explained.
“Five years? Five years of memories are just gone. I don’t understand. If that’s true then why are you here?” You asked gesturing to Agent Hotchner.
“Well, you work for the BAU. You have for about three years now.”
“I do? I – I, this is a lot. What does this mean? Have you called my emergency contact?” You asked.
“I uh – I am your emergency contact.” Agent Hotchner spoke up.
“What, why? It has always been my mom, I don’t understand.”
“I’m so sorry, your mom, she uh – she passed last year. That’s when you switched it over to me.” Agent Hotchner’s gaze shifted down to his shoes.
“She’s gone?” Your voice cracked.
“Okay, this has been quite a bit of information. The most important thing right now is getting healthy. We want to keep you here a little longer to continue monitoring the swelling in your brain. Once we’ve confirmed it has gone down, you’ll want to get back in your usual routine, that is the best shot at getting your memory back.” Dr. Raynor gently patted your leg.
“How am I meant to get back to my normal routine when I don’t know it? The one person I had, I just found out is dead.”
“Given that Agent Hotchner is your emergency contact, we would be able to release you into his care. For now, we just need to stay positive.” With that, Dr. Raynor made her exit.
“I know this is a lot, but the BAU, we’re like a family, that includes you. Each member of the team is going to be willing to do anything to help you throughout this process.” Agent Hotchner said.
Part of you knew you could trust him; he had kind eyes, and you knew he was genuine. However, the other part of you felt so hopeless, like a lost kid in a department store. How were you meant to go home with this man who you didn’t know.
*Five Days Later*
“Do you have everything?” Aaron asked.
He had been with you every day for the last five days. He had brought you some things from your apartment and asked you to call him Aaron for now while you were “getting to know him”. You had to admit, it had been pretty nice talking with him the last few days.
“I think so!” You looked over at him. “I know that I am meant to be staying with you, at least until I’m fully healed, but could we go to my apartment first? I’d like to see it and maybe go through some of my things?”
“Of course we can.” Aaron nodded, gesturing towards the door.
The drive to your place was filled with small talk, mostly you asking Aaron questions about the BAU and the time you’ve spent there. It felt weird asking the man who is technically your boss about your personal life.
When you arrived, Aaron made sure to open your door for you and carry your bag into your home. He led you inside and you couldn’t help but notice how comfortable he seemed in your place, like he’d been there before. Like he belonged there. You shook the thought from your mind.
“I got you a new phone, it’s all set up for you.” Aaron said handing you the device.
“Thanks! Were they able to back up the old one? I was hoping to go through old texts and pictures to gather some insight into my life. God that sounds weird.” You huffed out a breath.
“I have our technical analyst Penelope Garcia working on that for you.” Aaron informed you.
“That’s great, thank you.”
The truth was, Aaron didn’t have Garcia backing up your old phone, at least not yet. He knew that if he had brought it to her she would uncover all the private texts and photos that you two had shared over the last year. He didn’t want to risk everyone finding out about your relationship, especially now when he wasn’t sure what your future would hold.
Aaron watched you as you made your way around your apartment. You wandered slowly around letting your fingers graze the spines of books on your shelves, picture frames on the walls and tchotchkes that were strewn about your desk and shelves. 
He so badly wanted to pull you into his arms, kiss your head and tell you that everything was going to be okay. He wanted you to know that he wasn’t just your boss. But he also thought about all the things that could go wrong if he told you. You could question your own ethics and fall into self-loathing with the thought that you’d potentially slept your way to the top – this was the furthest thing from the truth, but he knew you and the way your mind spiraled. He wondered if it would just be easier if he let you find yourself all on your own, to let this thing between you go and hope that maybe you’d find your way back to him again.
When he looked over to you once again, he saw that you had found a photo album. It was one he was very familiar with; Garcia had gotten it for you on your 1-year BAU anniversary and filled it halfway. Since then, you’d continue to add to it all the photos you’d taken with the team.
You hadn’t realized you were crying until a tear had fallen onto the picture you were currently examining. Your emotions were running high, looking through the album was so strange it felt like looking at a stranger and yet it was you in photo after photo looking happier than ever with these people you couldn’t remember.
You felt the couch dip beside you and Aaron gently rubbed his hand up and down your back.
“I can’t imagine how overwhelming this all must be. I know that I can’t understand but I am here for you and I’m happy to lend an ear if you want to talk about it.” Aaron quietly soothed you.
“Thank you so much Aaron. I just don’t know how to wrap my head around this being me but not remembering it. Clearly you all mean so much to me and yet I have no recollection of any of this.” You sobbed.
Aaron and you sat like that on your couch for a while. He gave you the time you needed to calm down, while holding you, whispering sweet nothings to you. You felt oddly comfortable there in his arms, your mind shifted to the thought that enjoying the way his arms felt around you was also incredibly inappropriate given that he was your boss. At that thought you shifted slightly. You thought back to why you had signed up to audit Aaron’s lecture and while the main reason was the knowledge he’d lend you, a part of you allowed his looks to give you that final push in signing up.
“I should probably grab a few things so we can head out.” You whispered.
“Do you need any help?” Aaron asked.
“I should be okay, but I’ll let you know!”
Aaron drove the two of you back to his apartment, for the time being he had asked Jessica to keep Jack, this way you could adjust, and Jack also wouldn’t out your relationship. Aaron had his guest bedroom set up for you, he’d set it up with some of your favorite things. A lavender scented candle, extra pillows, a fluffy blanket, and he made sure to set a small trinket dish on the dresser, so you’d have a place to put your jewelry.
These of course were all things Aaron had previously had at his place for you. When you two had gotten increasingly more serious, he encouraged you to leave some stuff at his place and he’d gone as far as to supply some of your favorites around his home for you.
Aaron led you into his home and you couldn’t help but glance around, really taking in your surroundings. You couldn’t help but take note of a few things as he showed you around; there was a photo missing from the side table next to the couch (you could see the tiny bit of dust that must’ve collected around it), the pantry was stocked with quite a few of your favorite snacks, there was a pink coffee mug in the cabinet, and lastly, tucked under the shoe rack near the front door were a pair of fluffy gray slippers.
You couldn’t explain why, but there was a slight pang of jealousy in you as you thought of Aaron having a girlfriend. You knew you had no right to feel that way and it would be incredibly inappropriate, but it was a gut reaction.
*One Week Later*
Aaron and you had fallen into a weird sort of routine, it started to feel a lot like the 50’s, you making dinner and cleaning while he worked. You were starting to get a bit stir crazy, which is exactly why you were so excited today. Garcia would be coming by to see you; she was bringing over a bunch of photos and videos of you with the team throughout the last three years.
It was a paperwork catch-up day for the BAU, so Aaron had given Penelope the go ahead to take a long lunch and spend some time with you. So, when a knock on the door rang through the apartment, you couldn’t help the burst of excitement that coursed its way through your veins.
“Hi Penelope!”
“Hey babe! How are you feeling?” She asked, giving you a look of concern.
“I’m feeling pretty good, you know, except for the missing five years of memories thing.”  You let out a low chuckle.
“Oh goodness! Well, I’ve brought a ton of stuff that might help bring some stuff back. I read that sense of smell is the sense that links with memories the strongest so have a bunch of things for you to smell while you look at photos in hopes something will come back to you.”
“That sounds like a great idea!” You smiled at Penelope.
The next hour or so went by with Penelope showing you photos and videos along with passing you various items to smell in hopes of bringing back some of your memories. And while it wasn’t like a wave crashing over you, bringing all your memories back, it did bring some things back. You could remember the members of the BAU and some of their quirks, you remembered the feeling of being in the bullpen (thanks to the smell of some very burnt coffee). What you were struggling to regain was your emotional memories, you couldn’t quite pinpoint the relationships you had with anyone from the team. 
“I am glad that this helped! I should probably get out of your hair though; I can tell you have headache.” Penelope
“Thank you Penelope, I really appreciate all of this!”
You led her to the door, and she reminded you to get some rest and to take it easy. She also suggested that you come by the BAU for lunch in the next week or so to see everyone. The team had been doing a good job of not overwhelming you and allowing you time to get back in the swing of things.
“Oh, Penelope before you go, did you get a chance to back up my old phone? Aaron said you were working on it.”
“Oh, hon. He must’ve forgotten to mention it, but I will get started on that right away! I’ll text you as soon as I’m done, okay? We will just be able to pull the backup and put it on your new phone!” She said pulling you into a tight hug, before making her exit.
Why would Aaron have lied to you about your old phone? Maybe Penelope was right, and it just slipped his mind, he had been dealing with a lot, taking care of you, and having you stay with him.
You hadn’t meant to snoop, honestly, but after having talked with Penelope, the feeling Aaron was hiding something from you was extremely prevalent. You decided to look around a bit, you know, while putting the laundry away. You needed to put the towels away in Aaron’s bathroom, you just happened to notice the second toothbrush in the holder, the dress hanging inside his closet (come on, the door was already open), the ring box tucked in his sock drawer, what shocked you the most were the photos in the hall closet. It was a photo of him and a tall brunette that had you spiraling, where was this woman? You had clearly been invading his space long enough and you couldn’t bear the thought of coming between him and this woman who was to be his fiancé.
You needed to get back to your life, and out of Aaron’s hair. You decided that you’d tell him that night over dinner, you were going to move back home.
“Hey, I’m home!” Aaron called.
“Hey, how was your day?” You asked.
Aaron explained that his day was good, and he asked you about your get together with Penelope as you finished up dinner. Aaron set the table as you followed behind him plating up the food.
“I’m glad to hear things went well with Penelope. I think lunch with the team is a great idea.”
“Aaron I’m gonna move back home.” The words flew out of your mouth faster than your brain could catch up. “I’m sorry, I just don’t want to impose on your life any more than I already have.”
“It’s truly not an imposition, but if that’s what you want.” Aaron looked deflated.
“I just think it’s important we both get back to our usual every day.”
“If you think that’s best.”
You two ate in silence. Afterwards you both went to the kitchen, cleaned up the dishes and made your way to your separate rooms. You began packing up your belongings and Aaron scrolled through photos of the two of you from before the accident.
*Two Days Later*
“Good morning gorgeous!!! I am calling to inform you that the backup from your old phone is ready, and I also think it is the perfect day for you to come in and have lunch with everyone!” Penelope sang over the phone.
“Okay, what time should I come down there?”
“Ummm maybe around 12:30? Everyone is usually ready to eat by then. I can call and order in something too!”
“Oh, and uh Pen, I don’t know the address, and I’m not cleared to drive.” You said shyly.
“Oh shoot, okay! I’ll see who is available to come and pick you up, no worries.” Penelope reassured you.
You took some time getting ready, most of the team hadn’t seen you since before the injuries, and while the cuts and bruises have faded and scarred, you still had a very broken wrist and frequent headaches, along with PTSD and anxiety attacks thanks to the TBI. You felt like you had been doing well, and based on your recent check-up with your neurologist, things are trending up in regard to your health. Though you began to worry that the worst had yet to come.
A knock on your door shook you out of your thoughts, as you made your way to answer it, you wondered who Penelope sent to get you. Pulling the door open revealed someone you were hoping you wouldn’t see so soon.
“Hi Aaron.”
“Hello, were going to go pick up the food on the way back to the BAU, if that’s okay.” Aaron explained.
“Yeah, that’s fine.” You nodded.
The drive was filled with tense silence. You couldn’t help but wonder why Aaron would harbor any negative feelings towards you. You’d only moved out of his apartment so he could get back on to his life, if anything he should be grateful that you’ve gone home. One of the main reasons you’d really decided to go home was because of the fact that you were growing far too comfortable.
Things at Aaron’s house were starting to feel right, like it was where you belong. You had no idea how you had been able to work with him over the last few years, the crush you had on him all those years ago had only proven to grow stronger.
“I’ll run in and grab the food.” Aaron said, pulling you out of your thoughts.
Before you could reply, he stepped out of the car and made his way into the restaurant.  
Aaron got you signed in with a visitor’s badge (as you weren’t cleared to work) and then he led you up to the sixth floor, BAU bullpen. Upon walking in, you felt an odd sense of familiarity. You knew that it would make sense for the BAU to bring memories back and that you would have muscle memory to help lead you through the building, but it felt very strange.
You looked over at Aaron, “I need to go see Garcia, do you mind pointing me in the right direction?”
“Of course, her office is that way. Second door on the right.”
“Thanks.” You smiled.
You wandered through the corridor, catching a glimpse of Garcia through her open door. You lightly knocked on her door and walked into her office.
“Oh! Hello gorgeous!” Garcia squealed, standing, and pulling you into a hug.
“Hey Pen!”
“Let’s get your phone squared away and then we will go eat.”
You handed your phone over to Penelope and she began downloading the last backup from your old phone.
“This should only take a few minutes.”
Penelope and you made idle chit chat for a few moments while waiting on your phone. When it finished uploading, she unplugged it and handed it to you. The two of you then made your way to the bullpen.
Lunch with the BAU was overwhelming to say the least. It was fun talking to everyone, but you could tell everyone was walking on eggshells and you could see the pity flash behind their eyes as you sat and explained your lack of memories with the people sitting before you.
After lunch, Aaron let everyone leave early. It had been a paperwork day and the team had been very productive. He told them all to go home, but of course to leave their phones on, just in case they had to leave. Emily offered to drive you home, given the close proximity of your apartments.
When you got home, you changed into some comfortable clothes and sat on the couch. You took a deep breath and unlocked your phone. There were two things you noticed while going through everything, the first being a significant number of photos saved and the second being the texts exchanged between you and your boss.
You decided to go through the photos first. There were plenty of you with the various members of the BAU, but what caught your attention was one image in particular, in it, you were laid in bed with your head resting on a man’s chest…the man being none other than Aaron.
You quickly switched over to your messages app. Clicking Aaron’s name, you saw the most recent text…
“Be careful sweetheart. I love you.”
Your mind was racing, what were you meant to think, why would he keep this from you? Was the ring meant for you? You needed to see him.
You ordered an Uber and made your way to the FBI building. You signed in, getting a visitors’ badge and headed up to the sixth floor.
“Aaron” You called out into the bullpen.
“Is everything okay? What are you doing here?” Aaron asked as he walked out of his office.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Tell you what?” Aaron questioned.
“That we were together.”
You gestured to your phone. Aaron dropped his gaze for a moment, before looking back to you. You could see the pain behind his eyes.
“Sweetheart, we had been keeping it a secret, and I don’t know, I guess I thought that maybe you’d be better off. I figured you might find someone more appropriate for you.”
“That wasn’t a choice for you to make. Aaron things have been confusing enough, losing my memory. But to have you lying to me, it’s total bullshit. How am I supposed to get my memories back if you are keeping such a big part of me a secret.” You couldn’t help the frustrated tears from slipping down your cheek.
Aaron reached for you and let his thumb brush the tear off your cheek. He stepped closer to you and brought his other hand to your cheek.
“I am so sorry. I should’ve told you from the get-go, I was scared. I thought that maybe I would tell you and you’d have to get to know me again and maybe you wouldn’t love me the way you did before. I also couldn’t help but think that I don’t deserve you and this was your perfect out. But that was selfish, I should’ve told you the truth.”
You leaned your head onto Aaron’s chest, and he wrapped his arms around you. He pressed a gentle kiss to your hairline and then he pulled back.
“Can I show you something?” Aaron asked.
You nodded and followed him to his office. Aaron led you around his desk and gestured for you to sit in his chair. He pointed to his computer screen, and you took note of the screen saver. It was a slideshow of pictures taken throughout your relationship, there were pictures of you at the FBI Gala, Jack’s soccer game, art museums, at Aaron’s home, at your apartment, etc..
It happened slowly, then all at once. A warm feeling flooded your veins, and a dull ache filled your head. Tears were steadily streaming down your face. You looked up at Aaron, and he met your gaze. A moment was shared before understanding washed over Aaron.
“I remember.”
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mrs-weasley-reid · 1 day
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Suit Jacket
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Aaron Hotchner x bau!reader
Summary: Aaron Hotchner seems to love his suit jacket on you.
Warning: Nothing besides a few curses (I think)
A/N: not my gif, ctto! This was also sitting on my drafts for almost a year and barely proofread, so I apologize for the errors.
— ✦ — ✦ ✦ — ✦ ✦ ✦
Sunday, March 11, 2:04 AM
"Thanks, unibrow." You grinned drunkenly, smiling at your boss, SSA Aaron Hotchner, as you collapsed in the cab's backseat. His suit jacket kept you cozy and covered like a cocoon while you comfortably giggled at the applied inside joke of his new nickname.
With Penelope's constant peer pressure, your inhibition has reached rock bottom eleven shots, five cocktails, and two whiskey glasses ago. You downed liquor like water, easing your stiff shoulders.
Aaron only stared at you with the same impassive face he had and shut the door before the cold caught you. He hunched in front of the driver's window, "This woman is a federal agent, and if something happens to her, I'll hunt you down. Please, drive her home safely." He straightened back up, casually tapping the vehicle's roof.
The cab took you away only after Aaron snapped a picture of the cab's plate number. He sighed as the vehicle slowly disappeared from his line of sight. He twisted on the balls of his feet, met by his other children, agents drunkenly calling his name.
Tuesday, March 27, 10:14 AM
You scurried out of the elevator, weaving through the sea of agents in the bullpen and then to the conference room where everybody was already settled in.
"So sorry! There was this son of a b—" You closed your eyes and breathed deeply, clenching your fists. Then, you exhaled profoundly with a calm smile at the end. "I got in a car accident. Go on, Pen. Sorry for interrupting." You took a seat between Aaron and JJ.
JJ turned to you, "Are you okay?" Her hand gently landed on one of yours, giving you a worried squeeze.
You gathered a smile and raised a thumb, "Thick skull and strong bones. Nothing can break me, not even this unsub... whoa—" Your eyes widened a bit.
How ironic for your case to be about an unsub who performed a craniotomy on the victims. You smiled awkwardly, the similar tight-lipped smile that Spencer would always plaster on his face.
The other agents coughed a chuckle at your reaction while Penelope continued the debrief with the same horrified look.
Upon listening to the case details, you slowly felt colder, subtly rubbing the sides of your shoulders. You were so caught up in your anger towards the guy that rear-ended you you could've sworn your body was overheating. You left your blazer somewhere and were sure it wasn't in your wrecked car.
"Alright, wheels up in 30," Aaron announced, sending everyone to get out of their seats and grab their go bags and snapping you off your trance in the process.
You rushed to collect your file copy and headed for the door but halted when Aaron called you. You pivoted on your heels, "Yes?"
He was taking off his jacket, handing it to you as soon as it peeled off his body.
"I don't think dry cleaning your suit is part of my job description, Sir." You kidded as you stared at his black jacket.
Aaron rolled his eyes. It was so rare that you had to blink twice to ensure you didn't have a concussion from your minor car accident. "You're cold." He wasn't asking, plainly stating your slight predicament.
Your eyebrows knitted, mouth slightly opened. And as if the universe was mocking you, a sudden draft slapped you in a shiver. You snatched his jacket and mumbled a small thank you.
As you walked out of the conference room, teasing eyes bore holes into your being. Each BAU team member's narrowed brows held you captive, and their loud thoughts rang in your ears. You ignored all of it, though, taming your anxiety with the warmth of Aaron's jacket.
Wednesday, April 13, 1:37 PM
"Garcia, look for old cases with one young boy as a survivor." Aaron started, listing each task that everyone was to complete.
You were so focused on the case that your next movement caught you off guard.
Your back snapped straight from the slap of Minnesota air. It was brief. An officer merely opened and closed the door, but your body was nowhere near as warm as it was a few seconds ago.
The warmth of cotton fabric soon hugged your shoulders, along with the momentary weight of Aaron's hands, before he fully let go of his suit jacket.
He continued talking as if what he had just done was normal or anything close to casualty, "Morgan and Reid, try speaking with the victim's family one more time."
Emily exchanged looks with JJ, conversing silently while you obliviously sipped your coffee.
Friday, May 2, 5:04PM
"Capital O-M-G!" Penelope squealed, drumming on your shoulders as soon as she came close.
"Garcia, breathe," JJ gently placed her hands on Penelope's shoulders, modeling a regular breathing pattern.
Emily gave you a look as she sipped her coffee, which you returned with a shrug. Penelope was ever so eccentric. You've gotten used to it over the years you've been with the team.
"Okay, okay, okay. I'm good. Just that— I was— Ugh! Look!" Penelope shoved her phone in your face.
You saw a blinding blur, forcing out a sarcastic, "Wow! I can definitely see."
Luckily, JJ took it to herself to pull Penelope's phone away from messing up your eyesight and looked at the image plastered on the screen. A smirk immediately covered her lips, "Oh."
"What is it? Let me see—" Emily walked behind JJ. Her jaw dropped not long after. "Anything you want to tell us?" She cooed as she gave you the widest grin she had ever flashed, at least for that morning.
Your eyebrows clashed, and your forehead creased, "Whatever are you on about?"
"You're telling us nothing's happening between you and a guy?" Emily's grin only widened. You wondered how wide it could get, terrifying you in the process.
JJ flipped the phone to your end. The brightness of the screen stung your eyes a bit. "Want to explain this?"
Photo: It looked like the picture was cropped because you saw Derek's arm around you, but he was nowhere to be found in the image. Aaron's jacket was around your shoulders while he was behind you, glaring at Derek's arm.
"What about it?" The confusion was solid in your voice. However, you had a bit of an idea of what the three of them were insinuating.
Penelope stepped closer to you, "Uhuh, sure," she started as she zoomed in on the picture. "You're telling me you can't see Hotch's jacket on your shoulders, let alone Hotch glaring at my chocolate thunder?"
"He let me borrow his jacket because I was cold. Doesn't he always do that with everyone?" You innocently asked, looking at each one of them.
"Still doesn't explain him glaring at Derek." Emily chimed in a teasing tone, wiggling her eyebrows.
Your eyes widened, "You think Hotch was mad at me because I took it? He offered it to me, and I was cold. You think he was just being polite or?"
Penelope rolled her eyes and aimed her fluffy pen at you, "You oblivious profiler! He's jealous!"
"Uh-no," You chuckled.
"You don't believe me? Look at this."
Photo: This photo was older than the first one and might've been your third or fourth year with the BAU team. It seemed like all of you had just ended a case. You were snuggled on the couch on the jet. Aaron was draping his jacket over you.
"Who took that picture?" You queried.
Penelope raised her hand, "I was going to check in on everyone, then the camera spotted it, and I took a screenshot because I couldn't help myself. I was going to tease you about it but forgot for a very, very, very, very long time until I saw that picture from our last team night out." She wiggled her eyebrows, a playful smile on her lips.
"Looks like our boss has a favorite," JJ sang softly, looking at you with a knowing smile.
Emily nudged you, noticing the blush on your face. "You've gotta admit that's very sweet of Hotch. I think he likes you wearing his jacket." She teased, poking your sides.
"He does that to everyone, though," You reasoned. If you recall, he had offered his jacket to many people before.
"Nope, no!" Penelope shook her head vigorously with a tight lip. "He offers it to some but gives it to you."
"We had a case where it was biting cold outside. Hotch offered to help me if I needed a jacket. I said no because of politeness and shit, but he didn't insist. He didn't even offer his jacket. He offered to give me time to return to my room and grab my jacket." Emily grimaced, obviously still holding a grudge regarding the incident.
"I've known Hotch for years. Giving out his jacket was only for emergencies. If it's the only choice he had. We've had cases where a victim was a little too exposed, and his solution was to wrap them with the newspaper he conveniently found." JJ exclaimed, sorting the manila folders on her chest.
You gave it some thought and considered every possibility, but you shook your head. "He's just being nice because he's my boss. Plus, I'm still a bit tense around the team." You straightened yourself, fixing your top.
Emily cackled, "Getting flat-out drunk with us is definitely you still a bit tense around us."
"You know what I mean," You defended, blushing.
The three exchanged looks and shrugged. If you wanted to turn a blind eye, then it was your choice. But they had a perfect theory and tried to test it out.
Aaron was heading to the elevator as you exited the bullpen. The three of them grinned.
"Going for girls night?" Aaron quipped, raising his eyebrows.
JJ frowned, "We were, but she's feeling sick. I think the cold's getting to her." She gave you a pitiful hug.
Your eyes blew wide, jerking your head behind you where the other two stood with maniac grins. You knew what JJ was doing. It didn't take a second for you to figure it out. And as if luck was on their side, the elevator dinged.
You followed their figures as they piled in in the lift. You glared at them, but Emily focused on the man beside you.
You gazed at Aaron and were met with his jacket stretched out to you. Your mouth fell open, unable to breathe.
"It's cold outside this time of night. You'll feel worse if you don't layer up." Aaron cleared his throat, "Take it."
You reached for his jacket so slowly that he took it in himself to wrap it around your shoulders. "Thank you," Your voice quivered, hesitantly stepping inside the elevator.
He followed, standing beside you. You could feel the three devils behind you, preparing yourself for their constant teasing.
Unbeknownst to any of you, Aaron was holding his breath in the hopes that none of you would notice his blushing ears.
Monday, May 16, 8:12PM
The entire day has been a drag. Besides the unsub being disgustingly great at hiding his tracks in the safety of your local area, your stomach had been giving you the worst time of your life.
Later in the evening, in Aaron's orders, everyone was sent home to get some rest and start fresh the next day.
You were thankful. You needed to rest from all the stomach-emptying vomit you did in the restroom. Your acid reflux was having a field day and didn't let you get a breath. You practically lived in the toilet. You even had to call Derek and ask him to put you on speaker so you could contribute to finding the unsub. Luckily, they didn't question it.
Emily retracted away as she exited your hug, "Are you sure you don't want me to give you a ride home? We practically live in this building. I don't think they'd mind you leaving your car here for a night."
A warm smile brightened your drained face, "Yes, I'm sure. Thanks for the offer." You bid her one last goodbye before heading to your own car.
Your head was down as the day's exhaustion finally caught up. Your senses were off. You walked as if time stopped. You wondered if you should've taken advantage of Emily's offer.
With your loud thoughts and vulnerable senses, a heart attack almost killed you when a sudden cage of warmth engulfed your body. For a moment, your body wanted to fight, but it didn't take long for you to remember the familiarity of this warmth.
"What took you so long?" His voice was gentle and comforting enough to put you to sleep immediately.
You looked up at Aaron, who refused to unwrap his arms around you, "I didn't know you were waiting. I thought you went home already. Isn't Jack waiting for you? It's movie night."
Aaron smiled, "I'm taking you to the hospital to get checked. Captain Jack's orders."
You couldn't help but smile as well. He held the door for the passenger seat before jumping to the driver's seat. As you watched him go around, you noticed his scent lingered on your shoulders.
Aaron placed his jacket on yours.
"You ought to be careful," A chuckle passed your lips, "The gals are onto you."
"Why?" Aaron looked at you with a confused expression. His face made you giggle. The genuineness of his expression made you wonder his reaction if you had said the same thing two years ago.
A grin glistened on your face, "They say Agent Hotchner has a crush on me." Your voice danced with playfulness.
Aaron copied your grin and shrugged, "I'm surprised they haven't figured it out after all these years." He turned his body to face you, "So? Do you like him back?"
If only the BAU team knew how their unit chief, the SSA Aaron Hotchner, was a lot friskier than they perceived him to be, Aaron wouldn't last a day from all the teasing.
Then you wondered how the BAU team would react if they found out you and Aaron have been dating for the past two years and successfully kept it a secret from everyone except Strauss and Rossi.
Or the number of questions you'd be bombarded with when they learn that you recently moved in together with Aaron and Jack. You knew well enough that the ladies would be interrogating you like a serial killer.
You shrugged, "I heard he's got a fiancée." You fished the necklace well hidden under your shirt. A golden ring band shaped like vines with an oval-cut blue moon diamond dangled on the chain.
"Yeah..." Aaron held your hand and placed a soft kiss on the back of it, "You wouldn't want to be in the way of that." He smiled widely, an ever-loving expression you indulged yourself with for the past two years and soon... for a lifetime.
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ynscrazylife · 2 days
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stealing aaron’s glasses (aaron hotchner x wife!reader)
In your defense, you were dared by Derek to do it. After back-to-back cases, everyone needed a break, but especially your workaholic of a husband. You thought it was going to be hard to steal his glasses, since he was constantly wearing them to read over paperwork. However, your opportunity came fairly quickly when he took his glasses off in favor of rubbing his face.
“You poor thing,” you say as you walk into his office, going around to give him a shoulder message.
He lets you continue, ever appreciative of the kind gesture.
“You should take a break,” you advise him, kneading your hands into his muscles.
“A few minutes,” Aaron grumbles, only able to be soft around you. He folds his arms over his desk and puts his head down.
A few minutes is plenty. Finishing the massage, you quietly pluck his glasses off the table and slip them into your pocket. “I’ll grab you a cup of coffee,” you say, beginning to leave.
“Thank you,” he says dutifully.
Walking back over to Morgan’s desk, you flash a smile at him as you show him the glasses.
“Atta girl!” He says, giving you a high five.
“We’ll see how long it’ll take for him to notice,” you say, looking at the glasses. Experimentally, you try them on. “Woah.” It’s definitely blurry and disorienting.
“Lookin’ nice, Mrs Hotchner,” Derek teases.
“I can’t believe he sees the world like this,” you say, walking around a bit and taking it all in. It’s not long before you suddenly walk straight into a desk and the glasses make you dizzy, causing you to topple over.
“Oh, shit,” Derek says.
“Y/N!”
The concerned call comes from your husband who is now striding over. You sit up and look at him guiltily. Aaron stops short at seeing his glasses on your face.
“Cute,” he says in a voice that not even you can discern if it’s genuine or not.
He gives you a hand to help you up. “Are you okay?” He asks, glancing you over.
“Yeah,” you say sheepishly. “Morgan dared me to take your glasses!”
“Tattle-tale,” Derek mutters as he raises his hands up in surrender.
Aaron fixes him with an exasperated look, then takes his glasses and puts them back on. “You sure you’re okay?” He presses, caressing the side of your face with his hand.
You nod. “Just a little dizzy,” you assure him, shrugging.
“Oh, I’ll give you something to be dizzy about,” Aaron says with a smirk, before taking you by the arm and spinning you around, then catching you and holding you close against his chest.
“Aaron!” You exclaim, laughing but also surprised that he’d do something like this in front of all his colleagues. “That was mean.”
“And coaxing me into taking a break so you could steal an object that I rely on to see isn’t?” He says.
You pout and Aaron goes so far as to squeeze your face, smushing your cheeks. He can’t help it, your silliness is infectious, and one of the many reasons why he fell in love with you.
“I think everyone deserves a break,” Aaron says to the BAU team. “Take off early for today.”
The team cheers as Aaron throws an arm over you, heading back to his office so that he can grab his stuff and you guys can leave.
“Steal my glasses again and I’ll get you back for it, sweetheart,” he mutters into your ear.
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Daddy's Lap
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Warnings: 18+ ONLY, Daddy!Hotch, pwnp, pretty mild tbh (still no minors)
“Come sit on daddy’s lap.” His husky, yet dominant voice echoed around the room, but you couldn’t find the strength within yourself to even begin to move towards him.
You watched as he effortlessly twirled the sleek black pen between his fingers, taking the tip lightly between his lips. He peeled his hooded gaze up from the sheets in his lap to your eyes, causing your knees to become irrevocably weak. You began to move but he stopped you in your tracks, your socks gliding slightly against the hardwood beneath you.
“Take your panties off.” He sat up slightly, putting the pen and stack of documents on the side table next to the Lazyboy. Hotch uncrossed his legs, his togue swiping his bottom lip as he waited for your compliance.
“Aaron-.”
“I said take your fucking panties off," he said becoming increasingly impatient, "before I have to lie you across my knee.” His cold, unwavering eyes looking you up and down. In this moment, you were nothing but property.
You raised the hem of the nightshirt you stole from his top drawer just enough to connect your cold fingers with the waistband of your panties. You hesitated, but complied with the command nonetheless. When they reached the floor you stepped out of them, waiting for whatever may come next.
"Bring them to me." You pick up your panties making sure to bend at the knees, cautious of not showing too much. This dynamic was still new to you, but you fully accepted your role. Your feet padded along the floor until you reached the chair he was engraved in. Hotch instantly grabbed them from you, enticing a small gasp from you. He looked deep into your eyes when he brought the ball of somewhat damp cotton to his nostrils, inhaling deeply.
He approved of the omitting scent with a low groan, his eyes rolling at the same time. As much as he was in control, the trap you had sprung on him was one he happily fell into. He opened his eyes back placing the wad in the pocket of his t-shirt. Aaron traced you thighs in no distinct pattern, trailing between them and gently gracing your pussy.
“Mmmm," he said lowly, "Look at you, your pussy is soaked and I haven’t even touched you." He quickly and roughly pulled you into his lap placing an open mouthed kiss on the side of your jaw, taking in the scent of you Peach Nectar shower gel.
"Are you gonna be good for me?"
The deep hum of his voice right in your ear sent shivers down your spine. He smiled lowly connecting his head with yours,
"It is so fucking easy to make you squirm.” he smirked.
"Please."
"Please? Please what?" Hotch eased.
You were sitting sideways in his lap, but you started to grind your hips anyway,
"Mmm, are you needy, baby? Trying to get yourself off on my lap?" He started kissing and nipping at your neck sending you into a spiral. You could feel his cock hardening beneath the confines of his dark blue sweatpants. Hotch brought you more towards the center of his crotch grinding your hips down on him,
"You feel that?" His hips started teasingly thrusting. He did this a few more times before turning your face to him, kissing you deeply. He pulled away closing his palm around your neck, leaning you back enough to see your whole expression.
"You want my cock? Hmm? You want to feel me here?" He brought his other hand to circle your front and press on your lower belly. The girth of the massive head you felt rubbing against your clit was pushing you closer.
You felt his hand wedge between you when your pussy started to burn with the sudden intrusion. He pressed your hips all the way down on him, grunting as he bottomed out. You could no longer hold in your cries of ecstasy when you felt his thick cock reaching the spot in your lower belly he had just previously teased.
As quickly as everything happened, it stopped. You opened your eyes feeling Aaron remove his hands from you completely. Thinking he was just putting you in a different position, you waited. You look beside you when you feel his body twist to the side, collecting the stack of papers from the side table. He cleared his throat nonchalantly reading over his assignment.
You looked at him puzzled, when you wiped it off completely. Who did you think you were? You're strictly there to keep his cock wet and warm. Nothing but holes for him to use.
Once your heart rate came back down, you smiled slightly at how quickly he cuts you off at the source and how much you live for it. You got comfortable before lifting his arm and placing your head on his shoulder. He closed his arms around you, papers out in front and kissed you on your head.
“Good girl.”
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"Girls without boyfriends how's life?"
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golden1u5t · 13 hours
Note
CONGRATS ON 2K!!! I NEED prompt 19 and 33 with hotch, reid and fem!reader!!
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ꨄ pairing: aaron hotchner x spencer reid x fem!reader
ꨄ genre: smut
ꨄ prompt(s): rose, 19: “wait your turn, love.” and rose, 33: “just like that, good boy/girl.”
ꨄ summary: having two partners is great and very fun until you're stuck on the sidelines while they have all the fun.
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it was a little after 7pm when you were getting home from work and usually you’d be greeted by aaron and spencer on the days they weren’t on a case. your eyebrows furrowed as you set your bag down on the kitchen table and pulled out your phone, you hadn’t gotten any messages from either of them saying they got pulled away to a case and plus, you could hear the tv playing from in the living room. 
brushing it off, you set your phone down on the counter and headed down the hall to your bedroom. though, as you got closer to the door you could start to hear small grunts and groans coming from the other side of the door. as soon as you walked in aarons head snapped up, though a small smirk played on his lips once you locked eyes.
“hi, honey. how was work?” he asked as if he wasn’t fucking spencer into the mattress. you couldn’t ignore it though, your eyes were trained on the way spencer was trying to jerk himself off in time with aarons thrust but he couldn’t keep up and you felt a pang of jealousy shoot through you because that was usually your job, you usually laid under him and stroked his cock or you laid under him with his cock nestled deep in your cunt while aaron fucked him. 
choosing to ignore him, you quickly started to pull your clothes off until you were only in your panties. you made your way to the bed and kneeled beside aaron, cupping his face and turning his head so that you could kiss him. after being satisfied with kissing him you pulled your panties off and tossed them somewhere across the room so that you could situate yourself under spencer and pull him into a searing kiss.
you swallowed all of his whines and whimpers until he pulled away to rest his head against your chest. the second you wrapped your legs around spencers waist, aaron swatted your legs away. 
“wait your turn, love.” aaron knew exactly what you were going to do if he hadn’t stopped you and he could’ve let you but he wanted to see you squirm and pout. “he’s all yours once i’m done.”
“that’s not fair.” now it was your turn to let out a whine but still, you laid back against the pillows and waited for your turn. it wasn’t often one of you had to sit on the sidelines while the other two got to do something, you all liked to be together and as close as you can get to each other. 
when you were put on the sidelines you like how you could clearly see how they treated each other during intimate moments like this, not just taking turns making sure you felt the most pleasure the entire time.
“fuck- fuck- fuck-“ aaron hissed out as he quickly pulled out of spencer, his head falling back as he quickly stroked his cock over him until he was cumming all over his backside. spencer let out a soft whine as his own orgasm died down. you watched how hard his chest rose and fell until he came back down, he moved from behind spencer and sat at the edge of the bed to fully regain himself.
“you think you can fuck me now or do you need some time, baby?” you asked spencer, pressing your lips to the side of his head. he lifted himself up on shaky arms to look at you, you reached up and pushed away the hairs that were stuck against his skin.
“yes, please. i wanna feel you.” he nodded his head quickly but waited until you gave him the go ahead, you wrapped your legs around his waist and pulled him into you. spencer took ahold of his cock and guided through your slick a few times—even though you both were wet enough—before lining up with your entrance and slowly pushing into your warmth.
the gasp that came from both of you blended together perfectly as he bottomed out. spencer’s ducked down and he tucked his head into the crook of your neck while your hand went straight into his hair. he took a moment to calm himself down before he started to pull his hips back and fuck into you, he didn’t want to cum so fast but then again he hardly didn’t get a break from when aaron was in him to being in you.
spencer lifted his head up and crashed his lips into yours, the kiss was sloppy and urgent but that made it all the more better. while you two were caught up in each other, you hadn’t even noticed that aaron wasn’t in the room anymore. spencer lifted himself up and tucked his hands under your thighs so he could pull your legs over his shoulders.
as spencer leaned back over you his cock slid deeper into your walls. you eyes practically rolled back in your head as the tip of his cock started to repeatedly stamp your spot. “right there, spence. fuck- just like that, good boy.”
a soft cry left his lips at the praise and at the feeling of your walls clenching down on his cock, almost pushing him out. soon enough, you were moaning out his name as your release rushed through you and he was pulling out to cum over your pussy.
despite the sticky mess he made, spencer let your legs fall back down onto the bed and he fully laid himself on top of you. you both laid there with your eyes closed until aaron came back with warm cloths to clean you both up.
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ꨄ a/n: i don’t think i’ve ever read a story where aaron and spencer actually fucked and not just like taking turns with the reader… anyway, i think i redeemed myself from the last fic i posted.
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diqldrunks · 3 days
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✧*̥˚ AARON HOTCHNER MASTERLIST *̥˚✧
nav | main masterlist | inbox
:・゚✧:・゚
✧*̥˚ headcannons *̥˚✧
"SECRET STARES": working in the bau and dating aaron hotchner (while trying to keep it from the team) would include…
"PARENTS EVENING": teacher!reader and aaron hotchner meeting (for the first time at parents evening) would include…
✧*̥˚ drabbles *̥˚✧
"ELEVATOR MISHAPS": being stuck in an lift with aaron hotchner would include...
"A MOCK INTERVIEW": part two to "elevator mishaps"!
"DRUNKEN STUMBLES": aaron hotchner helping drunk!reader (who hurt themselves) would include...
"BACK SCRATCHES": aaron hotchner and back scratches would include...
:・゚✧:・゚
aaron hotchner taglist (lmk if you want to be added!); @inkluvs @loveeharrington @garfieldsladybird @fclklqre @alexis-angelsss @ivyppoison @starstruckwillows @masivechaos @leaskisses444 @hotchnerxo @kajjaka
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jqhotchner · 3 days
Text
stars
six
aaron holds his wife close to him. she’s only just got home and he missed the smell of her lilac shampoo. yn meant everything to him! losing haley sent him in a dark path for a long time. in the divorce and when she was killed. it broke him over and over again.
aaron never thought he’d have the willpower to move on from his first love. he thought she’d be his one and only. he accepted that, for awhile.
but in comes this most amazing, breathtaking, beautiful, smart, kind woman who instantly stole his heart!
yn and aaron met during one of his cases. it had been in new york city and it turned out fashion week just so happened to happen during the time they flew in new york for a case. it was a happy accident.
aaron liked to call it faith. normally he’d be the first one out of the hotel, heading straight to whatever precinct the team had to be for the case. he’d deal with the crappy coffee they had and get on with figuring out who the unsub could be.
that day was no different. this time though, he wanted to treat himself to better coffee. plus, he had been craving a dunkins donut for awhile.
when aaron arrived to dunkin donuts he sighs at the long line in the drive through. aaron decided to just go inside.
walking in he sighs as he stands in line. aaron soon hears commotion outside and sees that some people stopped a woman and asked for photos and autographs.
aaron ignores the commotion. he orders his drink and a few donuts, before he heads out. he gets a small glimpse of the woman before getting back in his car.
aaron didn’t really think too much of it. that is until he sees her again later that night. the team had solved the case, arresting the unsub and finding the woman he kidnapped, bringing her home safely. the team wanted to celebrate.
normally aaron would decline the offer to come along, wanting to get a good night sleep before jetting off the next morning. this time he accepted. he didn’t know why, but his inner voice told him he deserved to go out and have fun.
they went to a small club derek had found. he watched as his team danced, laughing at derek’s smooth moves.
aaron takes a sip of his beer before excusing himself to the restroom. once he finished his business he heads to the bar. aaron sees a woman looking very uncomfortable while a guy tries to flirt with her. she tries to be polite, giving him a smile. aaron could tell he wasn’t really getting the hint. she politely declines his advances. the man grabs her arm a little to aggressive for his liking. aaron frowns before walking over to them.
“everything okay?”
“yeah, it is! back up buddy!”
aaron puts his hands in the small of her back. the woman looks at him with pleading eyes. aaron recognizes her from earlier that day.
“i wasn’t asking you.”
“listen, i was having a discussion with the pretty lady here! why don’t you leave!”
aaron grabs his badge. the guy raised his hands before leaving.
“thank you!”
aaron hums. “yeah, any time.”
the woman smiles at him. “that a real badge or are you an actor?”
aaron gives her one of his signature small smiles. “it’s real. fbi.”
“oh? how long have you been an agent?”
aaron scoffs. “i don’t even remember. it’s been so long.”
“you look oddly familiar. have we met?”
“saw you at dunkins. you were signing autographs. im assuming you’re a celebrity?”
she laughs. “you don’t recognize me?”
aaron shakes his head. “mostly listen to the classics. i am quite old.” aaron states.
“you don’t look that old mister fbi agent! but, yeah, i am! im barely famous though. have like three albums out right now. it’s one reason why i can walk freely in the streets of new york without being spotted too much.”
“you can call me aaron.”
“aaron, huh? very suiting for an fbi agent. i like that. my names yn. i go by my middle name though in the industry, rihanna.”
aaron smiles. “what brings you here in new york?”
“i was invited to a few fashion shows. since im up and coming people want me everywhere. it’s been a busy week for me.” yn states.
“i understand. traveling a lot, yeah?”
“mhm. you travel?”
aaron nods. “yeah, all the time. im a profiler! my job consist being in different locations all the time.”
“profiler? you’re in the big leagues then, huh? i heard you gotta be crazy smart to be considered.”
aaron laughs. “something like that. it’s mostly got to do with reading people, places, and things, you know? just looking a little deeper than others would. like studying it more.”
“okay mister profiler, let’s see how good you are at your job. profile me.” yn smirks.
aaron smirks.
“just by standing next to you i can tell you’re an amazing artist. you write music from the heart and release it for the world to know who you are and what you’ve been through. you underestimate yourself. you don’t think you’re good enough which is why you call yourself low leveled, yet you’re already being invited to big events, which means you’re getting way more attention than you’ve ever imagined.”
yn left speechless. she didn’t know what else to do or say. yn just stood there before blinking rapidly. “wow, you’re good!”
“it’s just from the few things you’ve told me. nothing major.”
“who’s underestimating themselves now?” she smirks.
aaron chuckles.
the two continues to chat for a while. they lost track of time. soon enough emily comes to find aaron, letting him know she’s taking derek and spencer back to the hotel. both of them drunk off their ass.
aaron lets her know he’ll be right behind them.
“it was great talking to you, yn.” aaron smiles as he goes to walk away. “aaron, wait!”
aaron turns around. yn hands him a piece of paper. “please, call me. i enjoyed talking to you.”
aaron smiles. he places the paper in his pocket before waving. the rest was history.
he was smitten that very day and continued to be smitten about her. he felt like haley brought them together.
they were perfect. his perfect little star.
26 notes · View notes
hotchnisslvr · 2 days
Text
“After Hours”
Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x F!Reader
Summary: After ignoring orders on a case, Hotch calls you into his office to teach you an important lesson: there's no 'I' in team. (Highly Explicit)
Warnings: smut, p in v, blindfolds, bindings, delayed orgasm, vibrators, light choking, nipple clamps, dom!aaron hotchner
Words: 5.4k
Read on AO3:
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Your spine stiffens as he calls your name. His voice is flat, but you know that tone. Just your name on his lips is an order all its own.
Derek’s eyes meet yours as you rise from your desk. “Good luck,” he whispers, though you’re the only two in the bullpen. You’d stayed late to finish paperwork after the closing of your most recent case before the weekend.“Nothing good ever comes from that tone.”
You smooth the front of your skirt and adjust the front of the button-up blouse that’s tucked into it. You thank Morgan as you pass his desk and he nods before hunching back over the file he’d been working on. Swallowing your nerves, you ascend the stairs toward his office. The blinds are shut, but the yellow light of the lamps peeks out from around the edges.
Hesitantly, you rap your knuckles against the door.
“Come in,” Hotch answers.
You do as he says and he doesn’t look up from the file on his desk. “Shut the door.”
Again, you do as you’re told and stand awkwardly by it, awaiting further instruction.
“Sit.”
He doesn’t indicate where you should sit; the couch or one of the two leather backed chairs in front of his desk. You choose the chair closest to the door and cross your legs, and hope he can’t hear how hard your heart is hammering against your ribcage.
“You went into that warehouse, alone, before we could confirm whether the unsub was there.”
“Sir—”
“Don’t interrupt,” he orders and you clamp your lips shut. “I understand that your actions resulted in saving that girl’s life. You were able to control the bleeding until medics could arrive. Your actions, brave as they were, were reckless and stupid.”
His words sting and you have to fight to school your facial expression, but you can feel the crimson rush of embarrassment flood your cheeks.
“You got lucky,” he continues, his voice hard. “We were able to apprehend the unsub as he was returning, but you had no idea if he was there or not. You didn’t wait for backup. We work as a team, you know this. The minute we start acting on impulse is the minute one of us gets hurt, or worse.” His eyes are steeled when they meet yours. “Do you understand?”
You nod your head, “Yessir.”
“Good,” he responds curtly.
“This can’t happen again,” he says, rising from his chair. Your eyes follow his movements as he shrugs out of his blazer and tosses it over his desk onto the vacant chair beside you. He steps from behind his desk and slowly approaches you, rolling the cuffs of his sleeves as he does so. He moves behind you and the click of him removing the paddle holster from his belt causes you to jump and you curse yourself for flinching.
“Something on your mind, agent?” he asks as he tosses his weapon onto the chair beside you.
You straighten your posture and answer him with as much nonchalance as you can muster. “No, sir. I’m just wondering if this will result in a write up or other form of disciplinary action.”
“As far as the Bureau is concerned, you saved that girl’s life. A meeting with me is all that’s needed to review your actions.” The soles of his dress shoes click against the tile and you feel his presence behind you.
“Whether you feel like another disciplinary action is necessary is entirely up to you.”
He always leaves the decision-making to you, but if this happens, it’ll be the first time it’s ever happened in his office, at your place of work. The thought terrifies you, but thrills you all the same.
So you dip your chin in the slightest of nods and the click of the lock on his door solidifies what’s about to happen.
“Good girl.”
Your nipples harden at the sound of his praise and you splay your fingers against your thighs, pressing the tips of your fingers into the muscle to keep yourself under control. Your body betrays you though as you feel your underwear dampen, your arousal building already. God, fuck him and his ability to do this to you with words alone.
His shoes click against the floor as he nears you and the hairs on your neck stand on end. You watch, eyes hungry, as he removes his necktie. He steps behind you once more and the familiar feel of silk over your eyes is almost a comfort as he secures it at the back of your head. With one sense cut off, you immediately feel your arousal’s intensity increase tenfold and you nearly want to cry out and come right then and there. Only he had this effect on you. Only he could do this to you.
Your chest is already heaving as you feel his hands slide over your shoulders and his mouth finds your ear. He inhales deeply and exhales slowly, his breath hot on your skin. “What’s your safe word?”
“Sage,” you breathe quietly.
“Good girl,” he murmurs and his hands slide over your breasts. You try to moan, but his hand quickly clamps over your mouth, firmly, but not enough to hurt you. His lips find your ear again, “Derek’s gone home for the night but Rossi is working late right behind that wall.” You can’t see it, but you know exactly how close his office is in proximity to Rossi’s. “So, keep quiet.” His hands slide over the fabric of your bra and you squirm against them. “Or I’ll have to gag that pretty little mouth.”
You swallow and nod to affirm your understanding. Your hands have moved to the arms of the leather chair, your fingers pressing into the material as you await his next move. Slowly, he unbuttons the first few buttons of your blouse and you shiver as the backs of his knuckles brush against your skin as he does so.
He slips his hands inside your bra and just holds both of your breasts for a moment, his thumbs skirting over the peaks of your sensitive nipples. You whimper and hear the soft laugh rumble from his lips. “Like diamonds,” he muses regarding the hardened tips and lifts both of your breasts, using the backs of his hands to push down the fabric of the cups so they sit prominently atop the underwire.
He hums low in his throat and your throat bobs. You feel his presence shift away from you. A drawer opens and items shuffle around. Something is turning and a soft click echoes in the room. “I figured it was only a matter of time before this happened in the office, so I tucked away a few…” he pauses as he draws nearer, “provisions.”
His cologne invades your senses, the cedar-based scent is intoxicating. He draws something small and metallic across your chest and a soft whimper escapes your lips. “Do you know what this is?” he asks, and you can hear the smile on his lips.
You lick your lips and whisper, “Yes.”
His fingers brush along one of your breasts and you inhale sharply as he rolls your sensitive nipple between his fingers. Your back arches slightly against the chair and you feel the dampness between your thighs begin to spread. You squeeze your legs together to try and assuage the ache to no avail.
“I’ve hardly touched you and you’re already falling to pieces,” he murmurs as he nips at the skin of your breast. You hiss and barely stifle a yelp as the nipple clamp pinches into place. Instinctively, your body jerks forward and Hotch chuckles as he catches you. He flicks the now-swollen nipple and you bury your face into the fabric of his dress shirt to keep from shouting. The sharp sting of the clamp compounds your pleasure and you know what comes next, but nothing ever prepares you for the pinch of the second clamp. You bite down into the muscle of his pectoral through his shirt to stifle the yelp that escapes your lips, hissing and moaning as the feeling overwhelms your senses. The growl that Hotch emits in response is primal. Your fingernails dig into his shoulders and you don’t even remember when you had thrown your arms around him.
His hands slide up and over your arms. He curves his hands to cuff around your wrists. “As much as I love your mouth on me,” he says darkly, his hold tightening. His nose pushes into your hair as he brings his lips to your ears. “I didn’t give you permission to touch me.”
There’s no time to gasp as he pulls you to your feet and whirls you around so that your back presses into him, and you feel him pressing against you. The quick jostling causes the clamps to tighten and your nipples protest the pulling sensation. Hotch threads his arms through yours and palms your breasts, the warmth of his hands momentarily soothing the sting of the clamps. His fingers slide down your stomach to unbutton the remainder of your shirt, which he then pulls down and discards absentmindedly; leaving you in your knee-length pencil skirt and black stilettos. Your exposed skin bristles in the cool air conditioning.
“Hands behind your back,” he instructs and you do as you’re told.
“Good girl,” he praises. Your ears prick as he unbuckles his belt, and you feel the throbbing at your core increase. He loops the belt around your wrists and pulls the leather taught, binding them together.
He tugs the belt, indicating you to follow his movements and you do so. He guides you, one hand on the belt, and one on your back. Slowly, he pushes his hand forward along your spine, urging you to bend forward. Your breasts press into the wood of his desk and he pushes his pelvis against your ass, a soft moan escaping his lips as he presses his dick into the curve of your hip.
“I wonder,” he purrs as he releases his grip on the belt. You pull at the leather wrapped around your wrists, hoping to brush your fingers against his hands and miss them. He chuckles as his hand curves around your hip. His fingers drop below the waistband of your skirt and you squeeze your thighs together as they continue to dip between your legs. “Just as I thought,” he says. His fingers pass over your clit and even through your panties, the brief brush sends thousands of tiny bursts of energy pulsing through your nerve endings. You jerk forward against his hand and he chuckles. “So wet,” he hums. “I bet you’d love for me to take you right here, right now over my desk, and fuck you from behind until you remember there’s no ‘I’ in team.” His hand gently curves around the column of your throat, his fingers pressing gently into the sides of your neck as he draws you up to your full height. The movement causes the clamps to tighten around your nipples and you bite down on your lip to keep from crying out. “Would you like that?”
You nod against his grip on your throat and feel your knees begin to shake, almost buckling. “Come on, baby,” he sings into your ear. “You know it’s not that easy.”
A pitiful whimper leaves your lips and you feel the laugh rumbling from deep within him. Hotch’s fingers drop from your hip and you miss the feeling already, even though you know it’ll only be moments before it’s back.
Suddenly, a buzz fills the air and you nearly fall to your knees when Hotch touches the vibrator to the swell of your breast. His reflexes are quicker than lightning as his hand drops from your throat so he can loop his arm around your waist to keep you from falling.
“If you’re that sensitive up here,” Hotch murmurs as he touches the vibrator once more to your breast. You gasp in response and he chuckles low in his throat. “I can only wonder,” he touches the vibrator to your navel and begins to drag it down the length of your abdomen, “what happens when I touch you down here.”
The vibrator grazes the fabric of your panties just north of your clit and you gasp aloud, an inhuman sound erupting from your lips. Hotch quickly lifts the vibrator and pulls you taut against his body as he falls into the chair behind his desk. Securely rooted on his lap, the hand around your waist snakes around your chest and covers your mouth. He kisses the hollow of your throat before his lips find your ear. “What did I say about keeping quiet?”
You swallow and mumble an apology followed by ‘sir,” and you feel his erection twitch against your thigh. A devious smile plays upon your lips and he can feel against his hand. He knows that you’re aware of how much power you have over him, but he’s about to do the same.
The vibrator dances along your thigh and your legs quake against his as you tuck your feet around his calves to hold yourself as steady as you’re able to.
“That’s right baby, anchor yourself against me.”
Your skirt rolls up your legs as you squirm against him and that only makes it easier for him to access the part of you he so desperately craves and you so desperately need him to touch.
He touches the vibrator to the southernmost part of you and you gasp against his hand as your body bucks against the sensation. Slowly, he drags the vibrator up your center and you feel the buzz like electricity in your veins. When it touches your clit, you moan. Hotch responds by lowering the speed of the vibrator to draw out the pleasure.
“Your moaning is music to me,” he murmurs as he kisses the column of your throat. Your chest heaves against his arm as he circles that tight bundle of nerves in small circles. “It tells me how much you’re enjoying this. Tell me,” he says, and his voice is low in his throat. “Are you enjoying this?”
You nod quickly against his hand and cry out against the palm of his hand as you feel the pressure in your abdomen begin to blossom.
“Do you want to come?” he asks. The hand over your mouth is still there, and he strokes your cheek with his thumb.
Again, you nod vigorously.
The pressure is building, that familiar warmth spreading through you. Your chest heaves. Your breaths become shallower as you cope with the budding orgasm. Just as the wave is about to crest, Hotch switches the vibrator off and pulls it away, halting the wave in its tracks.
You buck forward as the denial immediately sets in, leaving you wanting, needing more. Your clit throbs, pulsating against the damp fabric of your panties and you can only picture the smug look on Hotch’s face. He thinks he’s got you right where he wants you, but you know how to play this game too.
His erection sits right against your ass. Ensuring your feet are tucked tightly around his calves, you tighten your abdomen and roll your body, allowing your ass to grind against the entire length of him. His grip on you loosens as pleasure courses through him. He’d not been expecting that. You continue to grind against him and you feel each twitch of his dick beneath you. A tight moan escapes his lips, and you moan in response knowing it’ll get him all the more excited.
You feel him tilt his pelvis, leaning into the movement. He lowers his hand as he groans into your ear and a grin splits your lips. You turn your head and press a kiss at the corner of his lips.
“It’s not my turn,” Hotch murmurs, though it turns into more of a grunt as you continue working him through his pants
“I thought this was to remind me there’s no ‘I’ in team,” you say coyly. If you weren’t blindfolded, you’d be batting your lashes at him because you know it makes him weak.
“You’re right,” Hotch answers. “We are a team.” The vibrator switches back and the sound stops you in your tracks, which simultaneously earns a frustrated sound from him. “And because I’m such a good team player,” he touches it to the spot just above your clit, which elicits a sharp whimper from you. His hand covers your mouth and he pulls you against him. In your ear he growls, “I’m going to skip my turn and let you have fun for a little while longer.”
You grind against the toy, passing it again and again over your clit. He’s allowing you to set the pace and you want to touch him, god you want to touch him. You pull against his belt around your wrists and whimper. “Let me out of these,” you pant against his hand. You want to run your fingers through his hair, and scratch your nails along his back. Hotch chuckles and you feel his cock jerk against you. “Not quite yet,” he murmurs, and it’s strained. He’s close too. If he didn’t let you out soon, he’d be cleaning up a mess inside his pants.
You groan as heat pools in your belly. Your aching clit throbs and you increase your pace; grinding against it and Hotch.
“Go ahead, baby,” he entices. “Come for me.”
Your chest heaves, your nipples straining against the clamps which only causes that wave to build even faster. The pressure builds quicker than you can keep up with. You lose the rhythm, but you don’t stop chasing that high. When the wave peaks, Hotch doesn’t pull the vibrator away. Instead, the pressure builds and builds until it has no choice but to release. You ride the vibrator through your orgasm until you collapse completely into his hold around you, your body jerking uncontrollably as the aftershocks pass through your body. The vibrator clicks off and you hear him set it down on the desk with a dull thud.
He drops his hand from your mouth and says nothing for a moment as you take deep breaths.
“Lean forward,” he orders quietly, and you do. His fingers make quick work of the belt around your wrists. Once loose, he drops it on the floor beside you and you bring your arms in front of you. The thick corded muscles that make up his arms thread through yours and he gently palms your breasts. You exhale sharply as he undoes the clamps around your nipples. With the tips of his fingers, he delivers a short series of massaging movements against the tender flesh. Finally, his fingers trail the sides of your face. They hook beneath the lip of the blindfold and gently pull it up and over your eyes.
You blink a few times to allow your eyes to adjust to the dim lamp-lighting and your eyes quickly land on his deep brown gaze. His lids are hooded as he looks at you, no that’s not the word, as he admires you. Your cheeks flush and you lean forward to kiss his lips. They part instantly for you and you slide your tongue into his mouth. You slip your arms around his neck and deepen the kiss. He groans into your mouth in response.
“I love the way you taste,” you mumble against his mouth.
You feel his lips smile against yours. “Nowhere near as good as you.”
You drop your hands to his shoulders and let your fingers find their way to the buttons of his dress shirt. You nip at his chest, leaving a purplish-red mark just beside his nipple. Your fingers brush the scars long since healed over from his run-in with Foyet as you explore his chest and abdomen with your hands. You need to feel all of him, to make him feel as good as he makes you feel.
Hotch slips his hands under your ass as you undo the buttons of his tailored slacks. His erection forces the zipper open before you get the chance to unzip it, tenting his boxer briefs.
Eagerly, you hook your fingers into the hem of his Calvin Kleins and pull down. He lifts his hips, with you on top of him, so you can jerk them down. His cock bounces up against his abdomen, pearls of pre-cum beading at the tip of his length. You eye it hungrily, but before you go any further you unhook your legs from around his and shimmy out of your skirt and panties. You unclasp your bra and let it fall to the floor, not minding where it lands. When you return to sit on his lap, you slide your legs through each of the arms of his office chair and press your slick cunt against the length of his erection.
His head tips back as a low groan escapes his lips. You press your lips to the hollow of his throat before moving to suckle gently at his collarbone. The benefit of wearing a suit and tie day in and day out means you can mark him as much as you want and no one is the wiser. No one besides him and you that is.
You curve your hand around his cock. Slowly, you begin to pump him in your hand. As you gingerly massage his length, you press your breasts against his chest as you lie flat against him to whisper in his ear, “I think you’re ready to take me now.”
You smile as his eyes screw shut as you have him literally in the palm of your hand. You always love watching the tables turn when you play this game. Hotch nods and grunts out an enthusiastic, “Yes!”
“Very well,” you purr into his ear.
Standing on the tips of your toes, you keep your hand wrapped around his cock and guide him to your entrance. As the blunt tip of his cock slides easily inside of you, you begin to sink down onto the length of him.
You both moan as he fills you, the width of his cock stretching your tight walls.
“God,” you gasp as you dig your nails into the skin of his shoulder blades.
“No baby,” Hotch breathes. “He’s not in this room tonight. It’s just you,” he kisses you once, “and me.”
You roll onto the balls of your feet and push yourself up before sinking back onto your heels. This helps you get used to the feeling of his cock filling and stretching you.
“Find what feels good,” Hotch says. “You set the pace.”
You repeat the motion again, except this time leaning forward just so that his dick strokes against your g-spot with each thrust. From there you begin a steady rhythm, riding him at a pace where you can still manage to kiss one another without breaking your teeth as you get lost in the throes of endorphins and hormones.
Eventually, you feel that familiar pressure begin to build and his fingers squeeze into your hips. He’s nearing his own climax.
“I want you to come with me,” he whispers against your mouth. “I’m close.”
“Help me get there, then,” you tease.
Hotch releases one of your hips and snakes his arm around your waist. His fingers find your clit without guidance and he begins teasing the tight bundle of nerves. For a split second, you lose the rhythm, but he helps you get it back by pumping his hips up to stroke that spot inside. The dual sensation is almost too much to bear, but as he begins to slam his cock up and into you, you know it won’t be very long now. You clutch at his shoulder blades, and he hisses as you dig your nails in deeper.
“Come for me, Hotch,” you plead. As your orgasm builds, you feel his breathing become erratic. “Aaron, I know you want to come in me.” You know using his first name drives him wild.
He grunts and drops his hand back to your hip, his grip bruising as he slams you down onto his cock. Each thrust strikes your g-spot and as his entire being locks up and his orgasm rattles through his body and pulses into you, your release follows almost immediately after.
You stay like that for a minute or two, a tangle of limbs. His arms wrap around your back, his palms flat against your slightly damp skin. He kisses your cheek once and helps lift you off his cock. You groan as he leaves you, and slickness from your combined arousal drips down your thighs.
Completely spent, he carefully stands, ensuring your legs don’t get stuck beneath the arms of his desk chair. Your legs feel like jelly, shaking and trembling as he lets go of you. He fastens the buttons on his slacks and tugs his dress shirt on, buttoning it haphazardly. A tired laugh escapes you as he scoops you into his arms and carries you to the leather sofa against the far wall of his office. He gently places you down and tucks his suit jacket over your shoulders. He presses a soft kiss to your temple. “I’ll be right back.”
He ducks out of the room, careful to use his key and lock the door from the outside as he does so.
Your eyelids are heavy, and it takes everything in you not to tuck into the corner of the sofa and fall asleep right then and there. However, you don’t think the weekend cleaning crew would ever recover if they opened his office in the morning and saw you in this state.
The sound of his key in the lock brings you back to reality. You tug Hotch’s jacket tighter around you as the AC chills your sweat-dampened skin. He smiles at you as he enters the office. Hands full, he quietly shuts the door with his foot before approaching you.
He drops your go-bag by your feet and places two bottles of water on the table in front of you. He retrieves his own bag from beside his desk.
“I figured you’d want a change of clothes,” he says as he sits next to you on the couch.
“Astute observation,” you reply cheekily, though there’s a tiredness to your voice now.
He smirks in turn, “Come here.” He slips an arm around the small of your back, places his palm flat against your hip, and easily scoops you into his lap. He pulls his go bag onto the couch and unzips it. After rummaging for a few moments, he pulls out a small container of wipes, a washcloth, and a small container of something you can’t quite make out.
The lid on the container of wipes clicks open. He brushes your hair over your shoulder and begins to wipe down the back of your neck, your shoulders, and back; clearing the sweat away. He does the same to your chest, your breasts, and thighs. The wipe is cool against your skin and a chill runs down your spine.
He slides out from behind you, getting on his knees before you. He presses soft kisses to your inner thigh before using a fresh wipe to clean you up. “I’m sorry I don’t have something more formal,” he says with a soft smile. “You can take a proper shower at my apartment.”
You arch an eyebrow at that. “I’m coming home with you, now?”
He tilts his head. “Only if you want to.” He unzips your bag and pulls out a pair of gray sweatpants, the ones you take on every trip. He guides your feet through each leg and you reach to pull them up the rest of the way. He kisses the corner of your mouth as you bend down and his suit jacket falls aside revealing the marks he’d left on your breasts.
He sits and pulls you between his legs once more. This time he screws open the container he’d left sitting on the sofa. He scoops a small amount of the gel onto his fingers and rubs them together. “Lie back against me,” he says gently and he doesn’t have to say it twice. You roll back into the wide plane of his chest and let your head loll to the side. Your eyelids feel so heavy and you’d love to just curl up in his lap and fall asleep just like that. When the gel hits the sensitive skin of your nipples, you gasp.
“Shh,” he soothes as he rubs the gel onto your sore nipples. The movement is not sexual, but methodical, therapeutic even. There’s a cooling component to the gel and relief courses through the sensitive skin there.
He caps the jar, wipes his fingers on the washcloth, and pulls his hoodie out of your go bag. The letters ‘FBI’ were barely legible after how many dozens of washes it’d been through. The front pocket was barely hanging on and there was a hole in one armpit, but somehow the old thing held together. Hotch had considered his hoodie from the academy a good luck charm of sorts. He’d kept it with him his entire career with the Bureau, but when you first started seeing one another and you’d borrowed it after a night at his house, there was never any doubt that you should have it. He didn’t need it anymore, not with you around. He’d have all the luck he ever needed so long as you were there with him.
“What are you smiling at?” you ask as you let him help you out of his suit jacket and tug on the faded hoodie.
He passes you a bottle of water before he wraps his arms around you and buries his face in the crook of your neck. You place the bottle on the couch beside him and lay your head against his and squeeze his forearm with your hands. “Just how lucky I am,” he answers.
You close your eyes and lean into his hold, letting the warmth of his body seep into yours.
He sits up suddenly, jostling you. “I meant to ask, did you want an ice pack? I think I might’ve held onto your hips a bit too hard there at the end.”
You arch an eyebrow and turn in his lap to loop your arms around his neck. You smile before kissing the downward slope of his nose. “My hips are fine, especially when they’re in your hands.
His thumb strokes your hip in response as he looks down at you from beneath his dark lashes. “Are you ready to get out of here?”
You nod. “Do you think if we order a pizza from the car, it’ll get there before us?”
Hotch smiles and helps you to your feet. He quickly gathers the things from your ‘lesson’ into the lockbox and tucks them into his go bag. He gathers your discarded clothes from around his office and tucks them into your bag. After he passes you the water bottle you’d discarded, he shoulders yours and his go bags. You’ll do laundry at his place over the weekend and repack it for the upcoming week.
He stretches an empty hand towards you, “Ready to go?”
You intertwine your fingers with his and squeeze. With the hand holding yours, he pulls you against his tall frame, the movement quick and unexpected. He captures your lips in a deep, final kiss. His arm is secure around the small of your back and you lean against it, gaze locked on his as you do so.
“Hey,” you breathe as you catch your breath. “Hotch?”
“Aaron,” he corrects with an arc of his dark brow.
“Aaron,” you repeat, drawing out his name, smiling as you see his own smile widen after using his first name.
His eyes search yours, and you let yours drop to his lips. “I’m still not sure I’ve learned my lesson.” You look up at him from beneath your lashes and bat them two, three times.
He kisses you again, both sets of your lips smiling as you fail to make it to the door. He pulls away with a breathless laugh, steps towards, and unlocks the door. As he opens it with his free hand he smiles at you, “Good thing your boss gave the team the weekend off.”
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stxr-slut · 3 days
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Back on my Too Sweet obsession, but this time with either post prison!Spencer reid or Aaron hotchner.
Like these men just scream daddies with daddy issues (ps I do NOT have a daddy kink, the phrasing was just funny)
Like both of them would find it so difficult to believe such a sweet thing like reader could be interested in them and reader finds it hard to believe that someone as smart and amazing as them could ever be interested in her.
The mutual pinning is crazy. They both want each other, but they feel like their not good enough for each other until it all bubbles over in an eruption of need and insecurity and pent up affection and lust.
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lovelyspooks · 9 months
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Me at 3am clicking “keep reading” on the most jaw dropping, earth shattering, pantie dropping, smutty fic when I have to be up in 3 hours
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bucker3911 · 2 months
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ssahotchnerr · 22 days
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okay but when the team actually starts calling the reader and aaron mom and dad behind their backs and one day someone lets it slip out in front of them??
i just… aaron’s reaction?????
the parentals
i love this dynamic SO MUCH cw; fem!bau!reader, established relationship, fluff <3
as you and aaron entered the bullpen, you were both quick to notice the others huddled around spencer's desk, surely for a new session of physics magic.
a smile immediately twitched at aaron's lips, tossing you a mischievous look. as long as it didn't make a mess, or a disruption - per his and reid's previous discussions - he really didn't mind the recurring demonstrations.
but would he ever miss an opportunity to get the blood rushing in this scenario - never.
"be nice." you teased, laughing softly under your breath as you followed him over.
"i'm always nice." aaron playfully insisted, those brown eyes flickering in that way that just melted your heart. "what do you mean?"
"better be careful," emily's warning came into earshot as you neared, completely oblivious to the two of you - the timing just perfect. "or else dad's gonna ground you."
aaron's expression quirked at the title, his eyebrows lightly furrowing.
"oh please," spencer said, his fingers making quick work of whatever the experiment happened to be. "he's too busy with mom-"
jj's eyes happened to lift right at mom, made direct eye contact with you, and immediately choked back a laugh. some horror timidly filled her eyes, and she didn't cover up her sound too adequately. it caused the others to instantly look up too, and freeze.
"busted." jj mumbled, her gaze finding the ground.
aaron's smile resurfaced, crossing his arms. his tone was playful, yet confused and utterly amused nonetheless. "dad?"
spencer flushed. "uh..."
"oh c'mon. cut the crap." emily interrupted with an eye roll, looking between the two of you. "like it's not shocking at this point. just look at what the two of you were about to do, lecture us-"
"hey no," with a laugh you cut in, arching an eyebrow. "i don't lecture."
"exactly. he does," emily crossed her arms also with a smitten smirk - her point thoroughly exhibited. "you're the flexible one. see, mom and dad."
"i always thought rossi was dad." aaron expressed openly, a small chuckle shaking through his chest.
"no, you were always dad," jj shook her head, "rossi was mom, until," once again, her eyes found yours, smiling softly this time. "until someone else came around, and took on the role wholeheartedly."
you grinned, exchanging a quick, loving glance with aaron. "what's dave now, then?"
"old."
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headkiss · 4 months
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something more
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pairing: aaron hotchner x fem!bau!reader
summary: you and aaron are friends with feelings more obvious than you think. or: 5 times the team suspects you and hotch are dating +1 time they know it.
word count: 6.6k
warnings: friends to lovers, the team being a little nosy, pining idiots!!!, probably inaccurate descriptions of bau jobs (for the plot!), a very small injury, a birthday, a first kiss, and fluff!
a/n: hiii this one has been a long time coming so thank you guys for being so patient with me!!! and special thanks to the anon who requested this one! i hope u guys enjoy it and please please let me know what you think <3 ily
Aaron Hotchner was never someone you thought you could be this close to.
Coming to the BAU, you’d been intimidated more than anything. As Unit Chief, he’s got a reputation that’s hard to ignore. Professional, brave, cold when he has to be. His success and talent were undeniable, and all you wanted to do was prove that you belonged there, too.
Then, you really met him, and he surprised you in a way you hadn’t expected. Hotch was kind right off the bat, welcoming you to the team with a smile that felt like some sort of prize.
He was an excellent boss. Understanding and protective, quick to defend anyone on the team like they were his own family. Except, he was so much more than just your boss.
Now, you’d call him your closest friend, someone who’s number you’d call if you were in trouble. He’s your closest friend and yet you feel so much more for him.
It started slow, a friendship blooming the way a plant does with just enough sunlight. It was a shared smile here, a nudge of the shoulder there. It grew to be a seat next to him reserved for you on every plane ride.
Today, it’s eating lunch with him in his office.
Aaron usually works through lunch, more eager to get things done than he is to worry about skipping a meal. Somehow, with two tupperware containers in your hand and a sweet smile, you’d managed to get him to take a break.
“Whatcha doing?” You’d asked.
Hotch looked up from his paperwork then, dropping his pen because you were in his doorway. “You know, Unit Chief business. Reports.”
“Sounds like you have time for lunch, then.” You set the containers down on his desk, making sure to avoid the papers he’d just been working on.
“I should really get this done-”
“Hotch,” you stopped him, “you and I both know that you’re always ahead on this stuff because you stay here so late. Lunch won’t set you back.”
With a shake of his head and the biting back of a smile, a simple twitch at the corners of his mouth, Aaron agreed and stacked his paperwork off to the side.
That’s how you’ve ended up in the chair that’s usually on the opposite side of his desk, only now it’s tugged to be next to his. Your knees touch every so often when one of you shifts, and the warmth stays with you even when the contact is gone.
“Sorry it’s nothing fancy,” you say as he opens the container you brought for him.
“Don’t apologize. It’s great.” Hotch has a way of saying things that make them sound true, no matter how few words he uses, so you accept it.
“Okay, good!” There’s a small silence, a lull as you both take your first bites. “Can I help with anything?”
Aaron looks from the paperwork to your face, your eyes already on his. “You don’t have to do that.”
“I want to,” you reassure him. “I think sometimes you forget that you aren’t the only one who can do this stuff.”
He knocks his knee against yours. Purposeful this time. A silent ‘thank you.’
“Like you said, I’m ahead anyways. I’ve got it.”
“Come on, Hotch. I’m already done with my report from our last case. I’ve got time. Let me help.”
He’s always been reluctant to accept help, to ask for it, but when you’re asking so sweetly, when it’ll give him an excuse to spend more time with you, it’s hard for Aaron to say no.
“Alright. You help for an hour, that’s it.”
You grin at him, like his acceptance of your offer was some kind of gift he’d given you. Your nose crinkles a little with it, and his hand flexes in his lap, like he’s fighting not to reach out to you.
“Okay, put me to work, boss.”
“We just started lunch,” he says, a little chuckle puffing out.
“Have you ever heard of multitasking, Agent Hotchner?”
Aaron laughs, shaking his head as he reaches for one of the files in the stack he’d made and hands it to you. He’d call everyone at the BAU a friend, but there’s something different, something more about how he’d describe you.
He’s grown closer to you than he usually lets himself get to people, like you’re the only one with the right tools to break through walls he’s put up. You see each other outside of work (on the rare days you aren’t working), and still, he feels like it’s never long enough.
Hotch briefly wonders if he could just move your desk into his office. He shakes off the thought and what it might mean.
Head bent, you’re now focused on the work he gave you, and Aaron takes the chance to admire you. His eyes flick over your profile, the light hitting your cheeks, the flutter of your eyelashes every time you blink.
As if you could feel his gaze on you, you turn towards him and smile—a small, closed-mouth smile, but a smile all the same—before turning your attention back to the page.
When you take a pause and take another bite of your lunch, a small drop of sauce lands on your thigh. “Oh, shit.”
Aaron grabs a tissue from the box on his desk, wrapping it over his fingertip before wiping the small spot from your leg, his finger a spark against you even through your pants.
“Good thing you wore black,” he says, tossing the tissue in the garbage. His hand, however, stays on your leg, and though the touch is light the weight of it feels the opposite. Heavy, huge.
“Good thing you’re here to clean up after me, more like.”
Your eyes meet, and you share a smile with Hotch the way you often do. Mid-conversation, across a room, it’s a smile you sort of reserve for each other.
In the main office below, Derek, Spencer, and JJ stand together, watching the interaction through the window into Hotch’s office. You and Aaron seem to be in your own bubble, completely unaware of your small audience.
“They’ve gotta be together,” Derek is the first to speak, waving a hand towards the office where you and Hotch are talking. “I mean, come on.”
“I don’t know,” JJ shrugs, “they both seem kinda clueless.”
“We probably shouldn’t speculate about them,” Spencer, always the sweetheart, says. “But, statistically, Hotch never eats lunch. Just saying.”
JJ pats Reid on the shoulder, huffing out a laugh before she heads back to her desk.
You stay in Aaron’s office much longer than an hour that day.
-
Punctuality is important in the BAU. Really, if you’re not early, you’re late. You’ve always got to be ready, wheels up in ten, or five.
You suppose that doesn’t really apply to outside-of-the-office parties at Garcia’s.
It’s rare that you’re all available at the same time, from late nights at the bureau to families, it’s tough to make your schedules line up when you aren’t working, which is why whenever she can, Penelope likes to host drinks for the team.
You’re on your way there now, or, you should be. Instead, you’re getting ready in your bedroom while Aaron waits in your living room.
Hotch has offered to drive you to these things every time, and with every offer, comes your easy answer of ‘yes.’ He’d been outside in his car for five minutes before he decided to call, because you’re usually in his passenger seat within seconds of him pulling over by your building.
The ringing of your phone had your eyes blinking open, squinted against the sudden brightness of your TV. You’d accidentally fallen asleep, and, still disoriented, picked up the phone. “Hello?”
“Hey, everything okay?” It’s Aaron’s voice on the other line, and you pull your phone away for a second to check the time before sitting up quickly.
“Shit, Hotch, I must’ve fallen asleep. I’m so sorry.”
“It’s alright, I can wait for you.” He’d wait as long as you need, he thinks. The thought passes through like a leaf blown in the wind, freely, randomly.
“Have you been waiting long?” You ask, fingers tugging at a loose thread in your pants.
“No, don’t worry. Barely five minutes.”
And he still wanted to check on you.
“Why don’t you come in? My couch is probably more comfortable than your car, right?”
“You sure?” He checks, like he hasn’t been to your place before, like you’d ever not want him there.
“Get in here, Hotchner.”
You hung up before he could reply, and he laughed to himself in his car before shutting it off and doing exactly what you’d told him.
So, now, you’re rushing to find an outfit while Aaron sits on your couch by himself.
Even though he’s in the next room, you can feel his presence around you, the steady security he gives you, the warmth that seeps out of him even when he tries to hide it.
You settle on a knitted sweater, a skirt, and some tights, which you realize as you tug them on aren't the speediest of options, but it’s too late to change your mind now. With your hair figured out and the mascara that had smudged during your nap fixed, you step back out into the living room.
Aaron made himself at home while you were gone (he often feels that way with you, at home), sitting on your couch with his arms spread across the back. He looks better than he should there, suit stretched across his shoulders, and you have to clear your throat to snap yourself out of it.
“Okay, sorry again for the delay. I’m ready to go.”
He looks up as soon as you walk in, eyes skimming over your legs and the tights wrapped around them, your waist, up your neck. His gaze lands on your eyes the way it often does, like magnets.
He shakes his head, “don’t be sorry. We’ll be what they call ‘fashionably late.’”
You laugh, because who would’ve thought that the words ‘fashionably late’ would ever come out of Aaron Hotchner’s mouth.
“Who taught you that one, huh?”
“I like to keep my sources anonymous.”
“Well okay, then. Let’s go be fashionably late, Hotch.”
He lets you lead the way to the car, only jogging up ahead to open your door before you can reach it yourself.
During the drive to Penelope’s, you take control of the music with little objection from Aaron, and when it gets to a song you know he likes, you sing along, encouraging him to do the same.
“Let’s hear it, Agent Hotchner.” You hold your fist out like there’s a microphone in it, looking at him with a grin on your face.
“I can't sing.” Aaron’s fighting off a smile, because you’re sitting beside him, not too shy to sing along, being all cute and, briefly, he thinks about reaching out and grabbing your hand and holding on.
“Sure you can! Everyone can sing, come on.” You unfurl your faux microphone-holding fist and tug on the knot of his tie, “loosen up a little.”
And, because you have some way of convincing him of things—first lunch, now this—he humors you by joining in for one chorus of the song. When your eyes light up a little, and your grin only widens, he can’t bring himself to be too concerned of how bad he probably sounds.
By the time you’re at Garcia’s door you’re a solid hour late, yet you and Aaron walk up to the door with matching smiles all the same.
“I’m getting you to do that every time I hear that song now, I hope you know.”
“That was a one time special,” he says. He reaches over your shoulder to knock on the door. His hand brushes against you, featherlight and quick, a crackle over your skin.
On the other side, Morgan says, “must be the lovebirds” when he hears the sound.
You and Aaron don’t hear him, only broken out of your little shared bubble when Penelope opens the door. “There you guys are! I made your drinks but the ice might be melted by now. You know, ‘cause you’re late.”
You know this is directed towards you more than it is Hotch, because Garcia’s a little intimidated by him still. You also know she’s only joking, and greet her with a hug before stepping in.
Aaron isn’t far behind you, though at these things, he never is.
You’re met with warm greetings from the team when you walk in, and you chat for a bit, but it isn’t long before things split off into smaller conversations. They all know that Aaron drives you to these things, and, as profilers, they’re also all able to see the way you look at each other, the way the knot of his tie sits lower than usual.
In the corner, Emily leans over to Derek, saying, “usually it takes at least two drinks for Hotch’s tie to look like that.”
“I told you, they’re together,” Derek shrugs.
“I don’t think they know that,” Emily replies.
This time, Aaron hears them, and he can’t help but look towards you in the room the rest of the night, thinking and thinking and thinking.
He ends up deciding that they might have a point. That maybe, that shift in his heartbeat when you’re around isn’t nothing, isn’t just friends.
-
The flight home from a case always feels the longest.
On the way there, you’re packing every hour with information about what’s going on, talking to Garcia, reading police reports. You’re all on edge, eager to get out there and help and do your jobs,
Then, on the way home, with another case solved, all you’re thinking about is going home, sleeping in your own bed, and time seems to go slower.
If your name happens to be Aaron Hotchner, you’d spend the plane ride home doing paperwork that actually can wait.
You and Aaron sit next to each other on pretty much every flight, though the seats have never been assigned. It’s an unspoken thing, like your names are written on the fabric of the same two seats on the jet and that’s just the way it is.
The first time was early on in your time on the team. It was a tough case for you, and Hotch seemed to know it without you having to say anything, so, when you got on the jet to come home, he smiled that small, twitch of his lips smile at you and nodded at the seat next to him. You’ve been sitting there ever since.
Today, your flight is on the shorter side, but feels long the way it always does. Trying to keep yourself occupied, you pull out your earbuds and shuffle your playlist, hoping that the songs will speed things up.
“Sick of me already?” Hotch speaks up when he notices your headphones.
You tilt your head to look at him. He looks tired, the way you’re sure you do, too, but never any less handsome. His eyes are soft where they meet yours, paired with a hint of a smile that you’re always able to catch.
“Sick of you, Hotch? Never.” You nod at the file he has open on the small table, “just didn’t want to distract you.”
“I thought you enjoyed distracting me. Always telling me I work too much.”
“‘Cause it’s true,” you say. “That doesn’t mean you listen.”
“I listen to you more than I listen to most people.” Aaron’s voice is gentle when he says it, the words sinking in and melting you just a little, sugary sweet. It could mean absolutely nothing, but with the way he keeps his eyes steady on yours, you don’t think it does.
“Listen to this, then,” you hand him one of your earbuds, and his fingers brush yours when he takes it from you. “But you can’t make fun of me if a musical soundtrack comes on, okay?”
“Okay,” he huffs a small laugh, and you feel a little brighter. “I promise.”
You’re aware of the team having their own conversations in the rows in front of you and Hotch, but you can’t bring yourself to join in, because you and Aaron are sharing your earbuds and his head is bent just a little closer to yours. It’s delicate, and you’ll do your best not to break it.
You talk a little longer, until it naturally fizzles out and Hotch is back to working on his files and you’re bobbing your head along to your songs. Only now, Aaron sits closer to you, his arm against yours.
He’s not sure what to do with his newfound realization that his feelings for you run far deeper than friendship. All Aaron knows is that he likes the feeling of you beside him, and that he’s planning on keeping you there as long as you’ll let him.
It’s quiet between the two of you aside from your occasional ‘this is a good one,’ and his hum of acknowledgement.
Eventually, you’re relaxed enough that your eyes grow heavy, the sleep you’ve been lacking suddenly catching up to you, and when you hit a patch of slower songs you’re fighting to stay awake.
When your head lulls onto Hotch’s shoulder, you jerk your head up, “sorry, Aaron.”
His chest does something funny. A jump. It’s not often you call him Aaron, and he’d listen to the sound of his name on your lips on a loop if he could. Because he can’t help himself, he scooches himself even closer to you.
He decides to call you something different, too, saying, “it’s alright, honey.”
You’re too sleepy to really read into that one, all you feel is the flutter in your stomach and Aaron’s hand on your head, gently guiding it to his shoulder.
When he’s sure you’re asleep, Hotch looks away from his files and over to you. Your cheek is squished against his shoulder, your lashes fanned shut. He thinks you’re the prettiest girl he’s ever seen.
Aaron doesn’t even feel the smile that spreads over his face as he reaches up and pushes your hair away from your face. He’s completely unaware of the eyes that catch him, far too focused on you.
Emily turned around when she realized she hadn’t heard your voice in a bit, and she did it just in time to catch Hotch’s movement. Instead of saying something, she turns back around and shakes her head to herself.
Hopeless, she thinks.
Sleep doesn’t come so easily with this job, with the things you see, so Aaron can’t help but try and stay steady for you, and if that leads to him letting his eyes close and resting his head on yours, then so be it.
It’s not until the end of the flight that the team checks on the two of you. As everyone stands and grabs their go bags, they notice the two of you, asleep next to each other, earbud wires hanging between you.
“Should we wake them up?” JJ asks.
“Hotch doesn’t get enough sleep as it is,” Spencer chimes in. “Neither does she, actually.”
Of course, Derek finishes with, “let’s leave the lovebirds to it,” before the team gets off the plane.
It’s only about twenty minutes later that Aaron does wake up, but he feels more well-rested than he has in a while, even with the kink in his neck.
Blinking his eyes open, he’s met with an empty jet and the comforting weight of your head on his shoulder. “Shit,” he sighs.
He debates waking you, ultimately deciding that you’d probably rather sleep in your bed rather than the seat of the BAU’s jet. Reaching up, he pulls your earbuds away, setting them on the table. With a brush of his fingertips to your cheek, he coaxed you awake.
“Hey, honey,” Aaron’s nearly whispering, like he’s afraid to scare you. Or, maybe, he’s convinced that if he moves too quickly, too loudly, this whole thing will fade away as if he’d been dreaming. “Wake up, we’re home.”
“Hm?” You grumble, scrunching your nose when he brushes your cheek again.
“We fell asleep, but we landed.”
“Oh, god.” You sit up properly, lifting your head. “I’m sorry, Aaron. Hotch.”
“Aaron is good,” he eases you. “Come on, I’ll drive you.”
Sleep-hazed, or maybe just happy that he can be Aaron to you, you agree easily and take his hand when he offers it, letting him lead you to his car.
-
You’ve been spending more time at Aaron’s ever since that flight. In the car, he’d convinced you to stay over at his place in the guest room, since it was closer. With your go bag already in his car and heavy, sleepy eyes, it was hard for you to do anything but agree.
It’s another slice of his life that he’s let you see, and you can’t help but feel like it means something, like you’re stepping further and further away from being coworkers who are friends and towards something different. Something more.
That flight feels like the catalyst, the thing that caused things to shift into what they are now.
Aaron’s couch is much more comfortable than yours, and though you’ve yet to spend the night again, you’re sitting there with him at almost every chance. The time off you get is rare, and Aaron wanting to spend it with you sends flutters to your stomach whenever you think about it.
You feel like you know him better, getting to see his space, how he chose to decorate, what colors he likes, which ones he doesn’t. You also know what temperature he likes to set his thermostat.
“Do you enjoy living in a refrigerator?” You ask, hands tucked into your sleeves. “Just wondering.”
Aaron laughs, a small huff, “I think you just run cold, honey.”
He’s been calling you that a lot, too. Honey.
“No way, Hotchner. Your house is what runs cold. Or maybe you’re cold-blooded.”
Not with you, he thinks. Years and years of doing what he does, Hotch might even call himself cold when he’s thinking a little too hard. But never cold with you. He thinks that might be impossible for him.
“Shhh, don’t tell anyone my secret,” he says, his arm brushing against yours from where he sits next to you on his couch. “Where are you cold?”
“Can’t feel my toes, Aaron. I might be out of commission for the next case.”
“Well we can’t lose our best girl, can we?” Best girl, he says. Like he means it, like it’s simple. “I’ve got some thick socks you can grab. Bottom drawer.”
Just like that, he’s cracked another wall of his down even further, giving you permission to go into his bedroom as if you’ve been in there a thousand times.
“Really?”
“Unless you’d rather not feel your toes-“
“Okay, okay,” you stop him, unable to fight your smile. “Thanks, Aaron.”
When you stand and head towards his room, Aaron can’t stop himself from thinking that you belong there, in his home, his room, his life. You fit in so seamlessly he wishes you’d never leave.
He stands up too, because the couch suddenly feels sort of empty without you beside him, without your warmth. He walks over to his thermostat on the wall and turns it up for you.
You’ve always thought that you can tell a lot about a person from where they live, and seeing Aaron’s bedroom now solidifies it. His place does too, but there’s something about his bedroom that feels much more personal.
Here, there’s more of him, little bits of his life scattered around. A picture of him as a kid with his parents on the dresser, the newspaper’s crossword sitting completely finished on his nightstand, his bed neatly made.
You smile at the framed photo before slipping the top drawer open and finding the pair of socks he’d been talking about. As much as you’d love to snoop, you don’t want to invade his privacy in any way. Besides, from Aaron, even a glimpse of his space feels special.
You slip on the socks before you leave his room, letting them bunch at your ankles.
As soon as you walk back into the living room, Aaron’s phone rings. Glancing at you softly, almost apologetically though he’s got nothing to be sorry about—you work with him, you know how important a call can be—he picks it up.
“Hotchner,” he says, holding it to his ear. His voice is different this way, more professional, controlled. Never any less pleasing to hear.
He’d wanted to say something about how good you look in his clothes when his phone rang, Garcia’s name flashing on the screen. Aaron wishes it was someone else, only to spend more time with you this way.
“Sorry to call late, sir,” Penelope says. “We’ve got a case. Missing kid; it’s urgent.”
“Don’t be sorry, Garcia. We’re on our way.”
“Wait, we?” She asks, curious as always.
“What’s going on?” You ask Aaron.
“Got a case. I’ll drive, honey.” He lets the pet name slip, like it’s a habit.
On the other line, Garcia’s grinning to herself in her office. She’d had a suspicion of who on the team Hotch would be with outside of work, and hearing your voice, and his use of the word ‘honey’ all sticky sweet, she knows she’s onto something.
“Oh, that’s ‘we,’” Penelope’s voice teases. “Tell her I’ll see you guys soon!”
Aaron shakes his head, fighting his smile. “Bye, Garcia.”
He hangs up and looks from his phone to you, your eyes already on him, corners of your mouth tugged up just a little like you’d heard what Garcia said, heard the lilt in her voice. Like you liked the idea of you and Aaron being a unit. We.
He likes that idea, too.
Back at the BAU, Garcia calls Derek next, who picks up with his classic, “hey, babygirl.”
First, she tells him that he needs to come into the office, that they’ve got a case, then, “you’re never going to believe this.”
Penelope loves to talk, and Derek’s happy to listen, so she tells him about how you’d been with Aaron when she called, and that you were on your way together.
“I give them another week, max, before they’re holding hands when they come in.” Derek laughs, because he can see yours and Hotch’s feelings so easily, plain as day, and he loves to be right about things.
“How mad will Hotch be when he finds out that we talk about his relationship?” Penelope’s mostly joking, only a fraction concerned.
“If the boss didn’t want us talking about it, he shouldn’t be so obvious, sweetheart.”
Once you arrive at the office, you don’t catch Penelope and Derek’s shared looks behind yours and Aaron’s—who happens to be carrying both his and your go bag—backs.
And if anyone notices the loose socks around your ankles, they don’t say anything about it.
-
You’re not supposed to go off on your own unless it’s absolutely necessary. You know that, the team knows that. Aaron, who is always trying to keep you as safe as possible, enforces it.
You guess that this time might be up for debate.
When it comes to what you do, you have to trust your instincts most of the time. And today, your gut told you to make a decision that might not have been safe, but to you, it felt like what you had to do.
Aaron had been on the phone with you, trying to figure out a way to make the car drive any faster to get to you. He’d heard it in your voice, in the tone of it, that he couldn’t convince you to wait for someone else to show up.
“I have to do this, Aaron,” you’d said. While the team would normally probably tease him about you calling him Aaron, as if it isn’t his name, they’d known not to interrupt this time. “You know I do.”
“You don’t have to.” His hands tightened on the steering wheel as he spoke. “We’ll be there soon, alright? Just-”
“I’m sorry.” And then, you hung up.
In the end, going in when you did had been the right move. A life had been saved, and you’d slowed the guy down enough that the police were able to arrest him when they arrived. All it cost you was a cut and a bruise on your cheek.
So, your instincts weren’t so bad.
Aaron, however, disagrees. Logically, he knows that he would’ve done the exact same thing you did, knows the rest of the team would’ve, too. But when it comes to you, he has a hard time thinking logically.
After you hung up on him, all he could do was breathe and breathe and breathe over the heavy thumping of his heartbeat and the worry spinning in his head. He drove the quickest he could manage, the car silent inside. A static.
It’s not that he doubts your abilities—he’s always thought you were incredible, even before the friendship, even before now—only that the idea of you being alone with such a bad man makes him feel sick.
He’d take your place in a heartbeat, if he could, just to make sure you’d be safe.
By the time he and the rest of the team get to the scene, you’re walking out of the building with a hand pressed to your cheek and a paramedic leading you to a nearby ambulance.
Aaron spots you right away, his eyes scanning the small crowd through red and blue lights and conversations surrounding him. When he spots you, everything goes quiet.
His first thought is, thank god she’s alive, then, it’s fuck, she’s hurt.
Without a word to anyone, he heads over in your direction right away. He meets you at the ambulance, where you sit on the small bench inside while the paramedic presses your cheek with gauze.
“Honey.” It comes out in a breath. Relief and pain all at once.
You look over to him, his hair a little messy, his eyes wide and roaming all over you like he’s checking for any other injuries. He cares about you, and it’s written all over him.
“Aaron. I’m okay.” You hold a hand out, and he grabs it, sitting beside you on the bench in the ambulance. “Promise.”
For now, he nods, letting the paramedic do their job bandaging up your cheek. When they’re finished, they hand you a spare bandage saying, “it’s gonna bruise, and it might feel sore for a bit, but you’re all patched up.”
The paramedic leaves after that, probably going to check on other people. The lights inside the ambulance seem to cocoon you, a bright difference to the darkness outside.
The first thing Aaron says is, “let me see.”
His hands reach for your face, rough fingertips gently holding your jaw, tilting you so that he can look at your cheek. It’s a little swollen, discolored where you must’ve been hit. There’s a furrow in his brow, something that looks like a pout on none other than Aaron Hotchner.
“Hey,” you grab his wrists, but his hands stay on your face. “I’m fine.”
Aaron’s always worried, he’s always cared about you and about everyone on the team, but this is different. He was usually able to hide things much better than this. Much better than with you.
Now, all he sees is the tiny bloodstain on your shirt and the bandage on your cheek. All he feels is your hands squeezing his wrists and your eyes locked on his.
“You should have waited,” he says. “I could have been there.”
“Hotchner,” your deadpan tone is intact, which he’ll take as a win, even if it’s directed towards him. “You and I both know you would have done the same. I had to.”
One of his hands shifts to cup your non-injured cheek. Normally, he’d be much more composed while working, but he can’t bring himself to care about how he must look right now.
“I know you did,” he tells you, because he does. “I just wish that you didn’t. I don’t like seeing you hurt.”
Your stomach is tumbling, rolling, your heart doing silly things in your chest. You can hardly feel the pain of your cheek anymore when his hand is on the other, his palm warm against your skin, his gaze even warmer.
“I’m hardly hurt, Aaron. Just a scratch.”
“Right. One that required medical attention. That’s more than just a scratch, honey.”
“If you say so, Hotchner.”
He shifts his hands so that they fall into your lap, palms up and fingers instantly finding yours, tangling together perfectly. Like puzzle pieces.
“Good job, by the way.” Hotch rubs his thumb over your skin once, back and forth. “You did the right thing.”
“Learned from the best,” you say.
You’re both oblivious to the fact that the team is watching from a distance, and that the two of you look so lovesick it’s ridiculous that you haven’t spilled your feelings yet. You’re both absolutely fucked.
Where she stands with the team, Emily shakes her head, “I haven’t seen Hotch like this since… ever.”
Beside her, JJ merely shrugs, like it’s obvious, “yeah, they’re in love.”
Spencer looks at you and Aaron in that ambulance with a smile. “The odds of you guys being right are very, very high.”
-
+1
Aaron Hotchner was never the biggest fan of birthdays. Was never big into the cakes and making wishes, the song and the presents and the fuss of it all.
When he started at the bureau, it stayed that way. Days off were rare enough as it was, so he’d always work on his birthday. And while he kept the signed cards from the team, he treated it as any other day. Nothing special.
This year, you’re on a mission to change that.
While it isn’t the first of Aaron’s birthdays you’ve spent with him, it’s the first one since the two of you have grown as close as you have, since you’ve felt the way you do. You’re just hoping to make it a good birthday for him.
You’ve roped the whole team into it. Decorating the conference room with streamers and balloons and a sign that hangs crooked on the wall, bringing in a cake that reads ‘Happy Birthday Hotch’ in frosting, and keeping it all a secret.
Of course, you’ve all already said happy birthday to him, and you’ve got a present stashed under your desk for later, but you’ve been doing your best to act natural even when the anticipation of your surprise for him eats at your stomach a little.
Surprises are a tricky thing, and there’s no way of knowing whether he’ll like it or not. You’ll just have to wait and see.
While in his office, the team had made it seem like they’d all left for the day, saying their goodbyes to Hotch. Instead of leaving, though, they’ve been hidden in the conference room waiting for you to bring him in.
“Aaron,” you say, knocking on his office door. “I think I lost an earring. Do you think you could help me look for it?”
Because you’re the one asking, Aaron says, “‘course, honey. Where do you think it is?”
You smile, because he’s fallen into your trap easily, because you know that he probably would search for an earring with you if you’d actually lost one.
“I remember having it on in the conference room, so maybe there.”
He stands from his desk, gesturing for you to lead the way with his hand held out. You grab onto it before he can drop it, tangling your fingers and leading him behind you.
Aaron lets you guide him, and when you open the door to the conference room and flick on the lights, he’s met with the team’s grinning faces and a chorus of, “surprise!”
For a moment, he’s speechless, frozen in his spot in the doorway with your hand in his.
No, Aaron’s never been the biggest fan of birthdays, but maybe that’s because nobody’s ever done something like this for him. You came into his life all sweet smiles and now you’re throwing him a surprise party? He’s never ever liked someone the way he likes you.
So much that like is spilling into a four letter word and he’s happy to let it.
You know him well enough to know that he doesn’t like being the center of attention too much, so the only people in the room are those of the BAU. His closest friends. And you, his favorite person.
Before he can say anything he’s being spoken to by the team, getting a ‘happy birthday, boss,’ from Derek, a spill about how hard it was to keep this a secret from Penelope, a grin from Spencer, a tip about how you’d organized all of this from Emily, a squeeze to the shoulder from JJ.
When he finally gets the chance, the others split into their own conversations, Aaron tugs you aside to the corner of the room.
“You did all of this for me?” He asks, head bent to catch your eye.
Although you’d caught the signature Hotchner smile—closed-mouthed and quick—when he saw the surprise, you’re nervous about what he might say. You worry that you’ve done too much, that he’d been pretending to like it for your sake.
“I’m sorry if it’s a bit much,” you start, anxiously tugging at your sleeves. “I wasn’t sure if you liked surprises, I know not everyone does, but I wanted to do something for you because I care about you. A lot. And birthdays are meant to be celebrated, you know?”
Aaron can’t help but let a smile spread over his face as you speak; a real smile. His heart is light, his feelings for you melting through him like the soft pink of cotton candy. He doesn’t think you could ever do anything that he wouldn’t like.
“I’ll clean it all up, too, I prom-”
Your rambling is cut off with his lips on yours. He’s kissing you.
It’s soft, the press of his mouth against yours, and it takes you a second to push back. It stays delicate, a dance between the two of you like you’d practiced a million times before.
His hands skate down your arms to hold your hands, weaving his fingers with yours, squeezing like he’s making sure you know this is real.
You feel it all over, your stomach tumbling, your heart beating in a rhythm that thumps his name. Aaron, Aaron, Aaron, over and over.
It’s a kiss worth a thousand words that you haven’t said yet, a kiss full of feelings and meaning and you know it, just by the way he does it, because you know him and he knows you. It’s you and Aaron, and it feels like the beginning of something huge. Of the rest of your life, maybe.
When he pulls back, Hotch rests his forehead against yours, giving your head a gentle nudge, locking his brown eyes on yours.
“It’s perfect,” he says.
The next thing you hear is Derek Morgan cheering, “I knew it!”
Similar words come from the rest of the team.
“Finally,” from Emily.
“About time,” from JJ.
“This isn’t surprising,” from Spencer, who smiles while saying it.
A sweet, “yay,” from Penelope.
Distracted by Aaron kissing you, you’d sort of forgotten they were there. Bashful, you tuck your head beneath Aaron’s chin, forehead against his collar. He simply tightens his hands around yours.
And when it’s time for cake, this year, Aaron Hotchner makes a wish on his birthday candles. He wishes to spend every other birthday just like this. With you.
thank you so so much for reading!!! if you liked it, please please please consider reblogging/commenting and letting me know what you thought! love you <3
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patrickispinky · 5 months
Text
Derek: are you the big spoon or the little spoon?
Emily: i'm the knife
Jj: *from across the room* she's the little spoon
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