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#aaron hotchner imagines
headkiss · 3 days
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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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irndad · 14 days
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won't you be my sunshine-a.h.
a/n: runner!hotch x sunshine!reader !! sooooo fluffy, first hotch fic of mine so be gentle with me! lots of pining and happy end <3 happy to continue with these two in an au!
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Aaron Hotchner is not a particularly emotive man. 
This is a skill he has honed, a cherished quality that was not born of luck or of natural ability, but a skill that he has honed down to a fine tip point. He needs to be, in this job. It’s cost him things, of course, but for the most part, Aaron is happy with his choices. He takes a firm line with people he works with, and does not always let up in his personal life.
The only time this sometimes causes a hitch, is in his romantic life.
Which isn’t to say that he has one. 
There is a woman who reads in the park every morning. Aaron affectionately thinks of this bench as her bench, as it is marked by wisterias and hyacinths on either end of it. It’s something of a ritual, after his runs, that they talk. 
It’s fun. He doesn’t have a lot of space for fun. He’d collapsed on the bench one day after siphoning his anger at a particular case into a difficult run. He’d crashed onto the bench, sweaty and exhausted and hadn’t even seen her there. Which is a bit impressive, as she’s hard to miss the sight of. It is also in equal measure embarrassing. It’s not every day you collapse in front of a gorgeous woman, disturbing her from what is likely a lovely afternoon in the park.
That’s how it started, anyway. She doesn’t run, so each break is punctuated by her company. He’s actually not sure if they’re flirting. He’s not very good at that- the last time he has to he was 17 and so full of unearned confidence, he lucked into a partnership. 
Now, he’s a bit older and a lot more scarred. She’s younger than him, not by much. She laughs with her whole chest at his dry, glib humor- and this is something Aaron had forgotten. The joy of a beautiful, wonderful woman’s company beside you. 
He feels a little out of place next to her. Romance is not something he does. Ever thought he’d do again, really. That’s not to say that this is romance. Their romance is almost entirely hypothetical. He thinks of her at work, which is a monumental development in and of itself. 
“So, how was the paperwork? I know you’ve been taking a little more on since your colleague had a baby. It’s so kind of you to do it.” She asks him on a beautiful August morning. 
He fights off a blush that she remembers what he’s done for JJ. He’s not big on mentioning his own good deeds. Aaron believes that this would cancel it out. Still, her praise is a warm balm to the exhaustion that plagues him. It’s hedonistic, the way he wants her to say more about him. He wonders absentmindedly if she knew everything about him that’s hard to love, she’d still paint him with such a light and warm glance. She’s bright enough, he’s tempted to tell her everything about him just because she asks. 
“It was…alright. My team is excellent. I’m lucky to work with people like them, it makes the process better. I couldn’t ask for more.”
She giggles a little at this, and there’s that roar of affection. 
He feels a sense of ease around her, one that is suspicious for him. He tries not to romanticize, but this connection is hard not to. She’s beautiful- this is obvious to anyone who meets her, a simple truth of her. But Aaron is trained to notice things little factors that show the truth of someone. 
He likes to watch her- it’s a pleasant thing, getting to be in her presence. It’s a little addicting, the way she looks at him. It makes him feel like all of the things he knows to be true of himself- his relative failures, the closed-off nature of his demeanor- are things that not only can be overlooked, but don’t seem to be in her line of sight at all. It’s an honor, to have her doe eyes rake over the sight of him, to meet him with gentle conversation. 
He tries not to notice that she is gorgeous. Aaron has been around beautiful women, of course- this is not something that should surprise him. But there’s something effervescent about her, something that his him wondering if it’s possible that she might feel the same way about him. He knows that he used to be a more attractive man, but now. Well, he’s a bit bruised, both metaphorically and physically. 
It feels odd to even think of this happening. She’s just got a warm, sweet tone and he replays what it’s like when she greets him. She smiles her brilliant grin and sometimes hugs him. It’s embarrassing how much he likes the feeling of it- soft curves against hard muscle and scarred skin. She always smells wonderful, and he wonders how nice it would be to have more of this. 
“I like your new shirt, by the way.” She smiles at him, and his heart jumps. It feels juvenile, but- she’s wearing a new lipstick, it seems. Her beautiful pout looks awfully tempting. 
“I like the lip color,” he tries to compliment back amenably, but that doesn’t stick. Instead, it comes out too earnest. He’s hyper aware of the fact that she’s right by him. She flushes, and Aaron feels a surge of pride. 
“Thank you,” she says, voice softer and flattered, and isn’t that a pretty sound? He’d love to do that for her, make her feel seen, make her feel like she’s as beautiful as she is, “I thought you might like it.”
It’s her directiveness that breaks the seal, he supposes looking back. Because she wore the lipstick for him. That’s just about the only thing it can mean, and he is struck with a particularly sensory fantasy of what it would be like to slot his mouth against hers- he gets the feeling it might be worth it even if he gets the color on his mouth. 
He’s a gentleman, though, he decides after a decidedly ungentlemanly amount of time spend staring at the gorgeous curve of her lips. 
“Would you want to get dinner with me?” He hears himself say it before he’s processed it, and then it’s out into the world. His heart is hammering and he’s blaming on the run, when god, it’s absolutely about how breathtaking she looks, the sunlight reflecting off her hair like a halo. When she beams back at him, she looks particularly angelic. 
It’s then, she leans over and kisses him on the cheek. 
“I thought you’d never ask.”
(Months later, when she is sitting on his kitchen counter and he is standing between her legs, gazing down at her with unabated fondness because he is entitled to that, he reflects on this moment and thinks god, how lucky am I, that I ran past that bench?) 
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ptersparkers · 1 year
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reckless (aaron hotchner)
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summary: After two years with the BAU, you get the feeling that Aaron Hotchner isn’t your biggest fan. That’s too bad, because you really like him.
notes: hello. this is singlehandedly the longest fic i’ve ever written (like 21.7K words). i didn’t intend for it to be this long and i tried to see where i could break it up, but i think it flows better if it’s in one piece. happy reading! x 
(edit: adding in that the reader is fem)
a huge thank you to @hotchsdoormat​ for being the best person alive and for listening to me rant about this piece. love u forever.
warnings: typical criminal minds speak, kidnapping and mentions of broken arms and ribs and typos, probably. 
***
Years of dreaming of becoming a federal agent for the Behavioral Analysis Unit led to the beginning of an illustrious career solving crimes and traveling across the country. It had only taken guest lectures by none other than the BAU themselves for the idea of catching killers and outsmarting them to do so to seep its way to the back of your mind.
You just wish you liked your job.
You like your work. You like walking into the office with a sense of purpose and you like profiling bad people and saving the good ones. You even like the shitty coffee that never seems to run out and you don’t mind the early call times and the sudden departures. 
What you don’t like, however, is your boss. But you know that’s just because he doesn’t like you. 
In your two years with the BAU, you don’t think you’ve ever seen Aaron throw a smile in your direction if it wasn’t meant for someone standing next to you. Two years of Aaron being dismissive and choosing to sit farthest from you in the conference room and on the jet. Two years of watching him foster friendships with your coworkers without sparing you a second glance. But work is work.
You’re an outsider. It’s almost what you expected. 
Emily’s the first one to tell you that you don’t need to take it personally. Her rocky start with the BAU and stories of learning that trust takes time eased your worries for a while, but Aaron never seemed to give you the time of day aside collaborating with the rest of the team. Everyone says he’s notorious for being stoic and intimidating, but you don’t see it that way. In your mind, he loathes you. 
Which is unfortunate, because you liked Aaron the most.
The guest lecture had sent you into a spiral of researching recently closed BAU cases and watching hours of press conferences led by Aaron. You appreciated the way he spoke about his work. He spoke about it like it was his due diligence and you liked that he treated each victim and their loved ones with grace and kindness. 
It kills you to know that he doesn’t trust you despite doing your best in the field. Your six month review approached and you passed with flying colors, earning a short-lived celebration from Erin Strauss before she exited Aaron’s office. But he kept quiet the entire examination, aside from putting his own input with how you acted in the field. He said you were diligent, followed orders well enough, and could listen to directions. It was the most you’d ever heard Aaron speak about you, but the swell of pride didn’t last long.
Sometimes people compare the two of you when it comes to your worth ethic. Last ones to leave, can’t be bothered when focused, and the need to excel in your career field while downplaying your contribution. Perhaps the need to do good in the world catapulted you into considering a role where you’d be actively helping others instead of a career where it would be too late. 
But every time you sit at your desk, opposite of Aaron’s office, you find yourself frowning. The blinds are always closed and you always wondered if Aaron could feel you staring at the emblem on his door when you wondered how you managed to keep your job. 
“I can hear your brain all the way from here,” Derek says, leaning against the stall of your desk. You avert your eyes from the door to his voice. “What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?”
“Nothing,” you say.
Derek gives you a look. “I know it’s not nothing, sweetness.”
“Just tired,” you lie, “I slept poorly last night.”
Your gaze focuses on the files in front of you and Derek looks between you and Aaron’s office. He does his best not to let you know it’s been affecting him too; everyone’s noticed how Aaron’s been giving you the short end of the stick and that his wavering trust hasn’t disappeared like it had for the rest of them. It doesn’t do any good for team morale. 
For a moment in the beginning of your time with the BAU, you think he’s asking you to prove yourself. You’re new, you need to get used to team dynamics, and you need to prove yourself capable before he can trust that you’d have everyone’s back. You understand that. 
What you don’t understand, however, is why he treats you like a first-day agent after your contributions. 
“Alright,” Derek says, knowing better than to pry you out of your work. “Coffee?”
“Please.”
He leaves you momentarily when Aaron steps out of his office. You try not to look up, but it’s hard to ignore him when your desk is pointed in front of his door. He’s wearing a classic black suit with a red tie, belt and shoes to match. You know what the look on his face means–there’s a case. 
“Everyone in the conference room,” Aaron pointedly says.
Derek finishes pouring two cups of coffee and brings it over to the room where he sees you sitting in front of the screen. You thank him for the cup as he sits beside you and Reid gives you a small ‘good morning’ before everyone files into the conference room and their attentions are focused on the faces on the screen. 
“Two children have gone missing in Los Angeles, California,” Penelope begins. “Gracie and Olivia McCormack, four and six respectively, were last seen in their shared bedroom last night and LAPD has contacted us to help find them.”
“Looks like the mother reported going into their bedroom to wake them up, only to find them missing,” you say, frowning. 
“Is the father in the picture?” JJ asks. 
“Jaqueline, the mother, divorced Scott McCormack before her youngest was born,” Penelope informs.
“New flame?” Emily wonders. 
“Yes ma’am. Logan James.” Penelope presses a few buttons and Jaqueline and Logan appear on the screen. “This is where it gets tricky.”
“It looks like both Scott and Logan were abusive towards Jaqueline during their marriages,” David reads from the file. 
“Jaqueline’s pretty familiar with the local hospital,” you mutter. 
“We can talk about the file and start to strategize on our way to LA,” Aaron says, packing his file in his go-bag, which is already in hand. “Wheels up in thirty.” 
***
The six hour plane ride doesn’t feel as nauseating as you had predicted. Your second cup of coffee sits on the table in front of you as your file is displayed on the surface, along with everyone else. Departure wasn’t terrible, mild turbulence followed but nothing you couldn’t handle. The armrest becomes your best friend on these flights. 
“Did Scott kidnap Gracie and Olivia because he wants his kids?” Derek says aloud. 
“Most likely,” Reid adds. “Scott’s a migrant construction worker. I can’t imagine anyone letting him raise two children without a steady home or income, though.”
“So he’s angry at the loss of his children and wants them back,” Aaron says. “Garcia, does Scott have any background of domestic abuse prior to his marriage with Jaqueline?”  
“One count of domestic battery with a former girlfriend, but his childhood tells us a whole different story.”
“What is it, babygirl?” Derek beckons. 
“Scott was born to heroin addicts and they’d leave him in hotel rooms for days while they tried to rob local convenience stores for money, presumably for their next high. Poor kid, he never stood a chance.”
“Damn,” Derek says, shaking his head. “I can’t imagine growing up like that.”
“He was put into the care of his grandparents on his mother’s side until he was six and–oh, ouch–he apparently caused too much trouble for himself that his grandparents gave him to the foster care system.”
“I can imagine that abandonment took a toll on Scott,” JJ says.
“Take the kids away from Jacqueline as punishment,” adds Rossi. “Makes sense, especially when Jacqueline was the one to file for divorce.”
“What about Jaqueline’s marriage with Logan? Haven’t we established that Logan was abusive during their marriage?” you ask. 
Aaron raises his eyebrow. “What about it?” 
“I think it’s important to consider him in all of this, Sir. If Logan was abusive to Jaqueline throughout their marriage, maybe Scott sees this kidnapping as some sort of effort to save them from harm.”
All eyes are on you now. It makes your skin crawl and you hope you don’t say the wrong thing.
“Go on.”
“If Scott really did take his kids, I don’t know if he did it to get back at her by kidnapping them. It makes more sense that Scott would want to save his children from an abuser. I mean, he knows what it’s like to live with abusive and absent parents. What if Scott wants to protect his children from suffering what he went through?” 
“Interesting,” Dave hums. “You’re theorizing that Scott considers this kidnapping as rescuing?”
You nod. “It makes sense. Maybe he has some animosity towards Jaqueline for letting Logan into their lives and retaliates by taking his children away from her because he thinks he’s saving them.”
“Let’s not jump to conclusions,” Aaron says pointedly. 
“I’m just spitballing,” you say. “I’m not trying to step on anyone’s toes.”
“Well, let’s keep it that way.”
You shut your mouth and revert your eyes back to the file that’s in your lap, desperate for any minute distraction it can give you. The rest of the team is stunned in silence and Spencer tries his best to fill in the awkward silence by reviewing all of the facts that have been listed in the report. 
At this moment, you feel small. Aaron’s dismissive attitude makes you feel somewhat inadequate at your job and you find it difficult to remind yourself of all the cases you’ve helped close when your boss has just undermined your work in front of your colleagues. 
His coldness towards you is what you don’t get. Aaron has a reputation for maintaining professionalism, which you can appreciate, but it seems like his stoic tendencies extend far beyond keeping it civil in the workplace. It feels like you’ve been isolated and boxed out from day one and despite having gotten to know the rest of the team on a deeper level, you still walk on eggshells around Aaron. It makes you wonder why he hired you at all.
From the other side of the plane, Aaron takes a seat in an empty chair and looks out the window pensively. He knows he’s being hard on you and he knows it’s unfair that he’s treating you much harsher than the others, but Aaron knows that it’s for the best. 
When you walked into his office for your initial interview, there was no doubt that you were the perfect candidate to fill in the role as a new profiler. Your past experiences had clued you into profiling and he promised Strauss that your addition to the team would benefit the BAU as a whole. 
And Aaron was right. Cases were closing at a higher rate than previously, your quick thinking and problem solving skills aided the capture of many prolific criminals, and it almost felt like you’d been with the team since the beginning. 
What Aaron didn’t account for, however, was developing feelings for you. 
All it took was a simple undercover operation to see you in a completely different light. The unsub had targeted women who looked like you and you were more than ready to step up to the plate to catch him. It took seeing you in a sleek black dress to make Aaron’s heart lurch out of his chest and make him feel like he was a teenager in love all over again, and he hated it. 
He hated feeling this way towards his coworker. For weeks, his mind bounced around the idea of what it might cost the team; your respective positions might cause an interference because of the dating policy set in place and how it would look from the outside. Aaron didn’t want to jeopardize your career by making it seem like you were providing unprofessional favors if news were to come out that you were romantically linked with him. He didn’t want your career to be damaged just because he couldn’t keep it in his pants. 
Moreover, Aaron hadn’t felt like this towards anyone since marrying Haley.
He had dated casually but never thought about the possibility of anything serious coming out of it. Aaron thought he might’ve come close to it when he had dated Beth for a while, but her career taking her across the country made him realize how unstable his life already was. Dating became a question of who gets along with Jack and the rest of his family and who is able to handle his frequent absences. His marriage to Haley showed Aaron the downside of traveling all the time and he’d be damned if he made that mistake again.
The idea of liking you in any capacity that wasn’t professional scared Aaron to death. He hates that he’s willing to find any excuse to walk by your desk or strike up a conversation with you if time permitted. He hates that his mind often wanders to a life of domesticity with you. The only logical possibility for him to combat his feelings for you is to keep you at arms length and treat you like he would any of his coworkers, which means keeping your personal lives separate and maintaining professionalism at all times.
It works a little too well and Aaron doesn’t realize it. He misplaces his anger—the frustration of knowing he can’t have you the way he wants you—and you’re at the receiving end. Aaron thinks he’s doing his best by delegating and separating you from him in the field, but he doesn’t realize that it’s causing professional tension because you constantly think you aren’t doing enough to help the team solve cases and catch criminals. 
Aaron spends the rest of the flight looking over reports the precinct sent over before the plane lands in Los Angeles. You elect to keep your nose buried in your reports for the fear of looking like you aren’t working hard enough.
***
The Los Angeles weather has cooled down when you land and Aaron has ordered everyone to head to the precinct first thing after touching down. The detectives are kind enough to reserve a room for all of you to work out of and you waste no time setting up the white board with the missing girls and timeline of the abduction. 
The stakes are high and you can feel the tension in the room. You aren’t a stranger to cases like these and you know that everyone is trying their best to keep themselves together for the sake of the department and the family of the victims. You try not to read into Aaron’s coldness to you too much. You’ve convinced yourself enough times that it’s the stress of the job and being away from his home that keeps him running on pure stress and adrenaline to prevent you from overthinking your position on his team. 
Aaron has you and Spencer stay behind in the precinct to work on the profile and piece together a timeline of the abduction, and you’re more than grateful you don’t have to spend time in the field with him. The relaxation enters your body the section you see him step out of the precinct and Spencer can’t help but pry. 
“You okay?” he asks.
You turn around from the white board and your sleeve smudges the freshly written text. The annoyance bubbles up in your chest and you hastily erase the mess you created and rewrite it before turning your attention back to Spencer.
“Stressed out, but otherwise I’m good.”
He pauses. “You’ve seemed that lately, though.”
“Can you blame me?” you ask defensively. “Our job isn’t exactly low-stress.”
“It’s just that every time Hotch enters the room, you stiffen up and you seem to lose your voice, and you play with your nails. It’s your biggest tell, actually.”
You give Spencer a pointed look. “Reid, I did not ask to be profiled.”
“Sorry,” he relents. “I just…look, I care about you and I hate seeing that you feel like you can’t share your ideas with us. Is something bothering you?”
You know Spencer knows. You’re sure the team knows why you’re apprehensive about your work and second guess yourself every time you bring forth a new theory or concept. But it’s hard to admit it out loud when all you’ve done is complain about him in your head and push your feelings aside for the sake of solving cases. 
But you know Spencer has always looked out for you after the first time you took a bullet for him a week into the job after barely getting to know each other. It’s the same way that he looks out for you in the field, protecting your cover and being the first to volunteer partnering with you when Aaron asks. He’s keen and perceptive, and you know you can’t hide your feelings from him unless you want to jeopardize another relationship with your coworker.
“I feel like Hotch doesn’t like me,” you say earnestly. “And I mean it in a way that seems almost personal.”
“He’s been pretty distant,” Spencer adds.
You shake your head. “It feels like he doesn’t trust my judgment or values what I have to say unless one of you backs me up. I can’t really tell you when I started to feel this way, but I’ve always felt like I have to walk on eggshells around him or else he’ll fire me.”
“No one’s going to fire you,” Spencer reassures. “You have an exceptional skill at finding unsubs and getting into their heads. It’s quite impressive how you’re able to put yourself in their shoes.”
“Thanks, I think,” you say with a laugh. “But you saw what happened on the plane. Hotch shot down my theory and told me not to jump to any conclusions even though I was just theorizing. I feel like he doesn’t want to listen to what I have to say because he doesn’t think there’s any value in it.” 
Spencer pauses. He sees your grip on the dry erase pen and knows how frustrated you feel. He knows you, the way you think, your work ethic, and just how badly you want to save these girls. He also knows how to distract you from your own feelings.
“Then tell me about your theory,” Spencer chides. 
“Scott might’ve taken his children as a form of punishment against Jaqueline. Sure, I think that’s a plausible theory to go off of, considering she was the one who filed for divorce. But he was never abusive towards the girls, whereas Logan was abusive to all three of them.”
He smiles when he knows it’s working.
“So you’re thinking that Scott is trying to rescue Gracie and Olivia from further abuse?”
“Yes,” you confirm. “As a parent, I can’t imagine tolerating a stranger abusing your kids. Maybe in Scott’s mind, Jaqueline was allowing Logan to abuse them without realizing he was doing the same to her.”
“The wife had full custody of the kids too,” Spencer adds, opening a case file. “He was only allowed supervised visits with a social worker present if she allowed it to happen and in the time they’ve been divorced, she hadn’t let Scott see them since she and Logan got together.”
“Okay, so Scott had enough and wanted to take matters into his own hands. If his ex-wife won’t take care of the kids and neither will her new husband, it’s up to him to take care of the girls.” 
“It looks like Scott’s had a problem with authoritative figures his entire life,” he says, frowning. Spencer turns the case file towards you. “His grandparents were physically and emotionally abusive and social workers did nothing about it. Looks like he was also a truant during his time in foster care.” 
“Get this. He’s been fired from multiple construction sites because he couldn’t follow orders,” you read. 
“Jacqueline was also the breadwinner of their relationship. I think Scott resents people who hold authority.”
“Scott wants to raise his kids,” you say, snapping your fingers. “It’s a rescue mission because he thinks he can raise them better than she can.”
Spencer grabs his phone and dials Aaron.
“What is it, Spencer?”
“Y/N and I talked more about her theory on the abduction. I think she’s right.”
Aaron doesn’t say anything. You’re almost sure he’s going to tell you to change the profile.
“We’ll meet you at the precinct in fifteen.”
***
You consider yourself lucky that Spencer backs your theory with claims and evidence. Your voice wavers multiple times when Aaron asks you to make your case, and the way he’s looking at you makes you doubt yourself. 
But everyone comes to the realization that you’re right. A few conversations with Jacqueline and an interrogation with Logan convinces Aaron that your theory had been the correct one all along. You should feel happy, but you don’t. 
You feel like you have to piggyback off of your coworkers and get them to support you before you can make your case heard. You feel like the smallest person in the room when you stand next to seasoned profilers who you’re sure Aaron values more than you. The weight of the world is on your shoulders and you carry it with you every time you formulate new ideas you want to share with the team. 
But you don’t dwell on this too long. 
Aaron has Spencer comb through security footage of local gas stations while Emily and David talk to Scott’s most recent employer. Derek and JJ are searching his last known whereabouts and searching for the girls, which leaves you and Aaron.
You’re barely able to hear his command. He wants you to talk to Jacqueline and try to coax more information out of her while he connects with Penelope about financial records and possible places he’s hiding the girls. She’s your age and he figures you might connect with her better than JJ did.
Jaqueline is understandably crying when you walk into the room. You hand her a box of tissues upon entering and she doesn’t say anything. She starts to open up after you tell her about yourself, your nieces and nephews, and you show her photos of them to prove yourself. You let her know you’re not a mother and can’t imagine the immense pain she’s going through, but you know what it’s like to care for people and how much it hurts when something bad happens to them.
Slowly, Jaqueline begins to talk. You ask her about her relationship with Scott and Logan, and all the important places that hold significance between the two marriages. She lists off a few and you make a note of it for later. Aaron calls you from the interview when Jaqueline has started to close herself in. He lets her go and gives her his business card in case she wants to talk, but tells her they’ll be in contact soon.
He doesn’t say a word about the interrogation. He just tells you to see if Derek and JJ need help canvassing more area. 
Two days later and the team is nowhere near finding Jaqueline’s children. Scott’s previous employer had less than stellar things to say about him and you’re beginning to panic at the thought of your ability to catch him and save the girls. Penelope calls with a development and thinks one of two locations is where Scott might be hiding the children. His trailer in East LA or a small house a friend of his owns. 
Aaron dispatches Dave, Emily, and JJ to the trailer while he commands you, Derek, and Spencer to follow him to the house. It’s located off of the freeway off the beaten path and you have a bad feeling about what’s about to happen.
Aaron’s driving like he knows something you don’t. You’ve taken a seat in the back with Spencer and listen as Derek points Aaron in the direction of the house. It’s getting dark outside, the sun is just barely above the horizon, and you know everyone has to be quick in order to save the girls if they’re in the house. 
LAPD officers drive behind the SUV. Aaron pulls over and you can hear the gravel underneath the tire. You swing the door open with all your might and draw your gun out as the rest of the team does, following Aaron’s orders to follow behind him as they explore the house. 
It’s quiet. Too quiet. 
The floorboards creak underneath you and Aaron tells you he’s going to clear the back of the house while you take the front. Everyone calls a distinctive ‘clear’ and you’re about to breathe out of frustration and ask Aaron if they’ve found the girls at Scott’s trailer when you hear the faint sound of someone crying from behind you. 
You’re careful not to step too loudly despite the hardwood floors. Derek finds you and calls out your name but you put your finger to your lips and he silences himself. The sound of feet shuffling sounds incredibly quiet, but you swear you can hear footsteps somewhere behind you. 
Spencer and Aaron join the two of you after hearing silence despite calling your names. Derek tells both men to silence themselves as you walk about the room, unsure of what you’re looking for. For the most part, nothing looks out of place. That is, until your hand falls on a set of books that feels much too hollow to contain any pages. 
“What is it?” Derek asks from behind you.
“I don’t know…I think this is a false backing.” 
And you’re right. You pull the books to reveal a small hidden entryway that’s dark, and it looks like it doesn’t lead to anything. Aaron’s halfway through telling you to let another police officer look through the crawl space because you have to take off your vest and gun to fit, but you’re not hearing it. 
“Hotch, I’m the only one who’s small enough to fit through here,” you say. “I’m shorter than the rest of you and all of you are men. I don’t think Gracie or Olivia want to see someone who looks like their dad.”
“She’s right,” Spencer mumbles. You don’t wait for Aaron’s approval, venturing into the crawlspace. 
Gracie and Olivia are understandably scared until you tell them their mother’s waiting for them at the police station. You help them out of the small room they’ve been kept in and notice how relatively furnished it is–a mattress, blankets, pillows, and coloring material–and make note of how your profile was right. 
You don’t spare a glance at Aaron, too invested in making sure the children are safe with EMTs while they’re being checked for harm. Olivia asks you to stay with them and holds your hand, and you don’t bring yourself to leave them. When the EMTs let you know they aren’t injured and can visit the police station without going to the hospital, Aaron reluctantly lets you accompany both of them back to the precinct. 
It’s well after dark by the time both children leave with Jaqueline. JJ and Emily have worked out a deal with local police to keep them under surveillance and protection until Scott has been captured and are instructed not to let Logan near the three of them for the time being. 
You aren’t able to say goodbye to the three of them, instead recounting your story to the local detective who needs your statement for the paperwork while it’s fresh in your memory. You’re on a high after seeing the two girls reunite with their mother and the entire team congratulates you on a job well done when Aaron storms into the office, angry.
“Y/N, go back to the hotel.” 
Aaron stands tall, his hands on his hips and his mouth etched in an angry frown. His voice is low and you can’t believe the words you’re hearing. 
“To the hotel? Hotch, you can’t be serious.”
“You made a reckless decision to abandon your gun and vest. That could have gotten you killed,” Aaron says. “You are not capable of working under pressure.”
“You told the entire team to use our instincts and that’s exactly what I did. I saved two little girls, for God’s sake.”
“You are hot headed and have this overwhelming urge to prove yourself when nobody cares how well you perform,” Aaron says angrily. “The entire time you’ve been with the BAU, you’ve barely contributed aside from piggybacking off of someone else to reach a conclusion.”
That, you know, is a lie. Aaron just wants to hurt you.
“At this very moment, you are incompetent and can’t hold yourself together for the sake of the victims and their families.”
“We have to catch Scott.”
“You can’t do your job, go back to the hotel.” 
“That’s not fair.”
“I don’t have to be.”
“Hotch.”
“I want you gone, Y/N,” Aaron says firmly. “Go back to the hotel or hand in your badge.” 
Unbelievable. 
You don’t spare Aaron another glance. Your feet carry you out to the lobby and your breath is so uneven that you need to step aside into an empty interrogation room to calm yourself down. Your jaw clenches and you ball your fists to gather some sort of relief, but you don’t find it. Instead, your nails dig into your palm until it turns white and you let go, exiting the room without another word.
The keys to the SUV are still in your pocket. You don’t necessarily care that the team will have to squeeze into the remaining vehicles and you don’t care enough to let one of them know you’ve made it outside. 
Your hands shake when you reach into your pocket. The warmth of the metal is familiar and your hand pulls it out when a stray tear falls from your face and splashes onto your cheek. Hastily, you enter the car and slam the door shut and lock it when you feel yourself overcome with sadness and anxiety. 
The tears fall freely at this point and you bow your head to the steering wheel, your breaths hot and mouth wet from crying. The back of your sleeves are soaked as you try to wipe away your tears to no avail and your vision becomes too blurry to drive. 
You allow yourself a few minutes to cry. The sound of your gasps echo throughout the care and your shoulders feel heavy with every sob. The weight of the world is truly on your shoulders now and you aren’t sure if you have a job when you go back to Quantico. 
But you pull yourself together and drive back to the hotel. It feels much longer than it needs to be and you sit in the driver’s seat for a moment when you park the car. You hate that you feel incapable of being a member of the team without Aaron breathing down your neck. You hate that you can’t live up to his expectations and that you try to in the first place. Working at the BAU wasn’t supposed to be a nightmare. 
You exit the car and lock it behind you, another stray tear escaping. You feverishly rid yourself of the tear and walk to the entrance of the hotel when you feel someone grabbing you from behind and an acute sense of pain at the base of your neck. 
It’s black after that. 
Back in the station, the local police have distracted themselves with their case files and other happenings while the rest of the team looks at Aaron in shock. Spencer's looking at the empty space where you stood and Emily is looking at Aaron like he’s grown a second head. 
“Are you serious?” she begins. “Hotch, we need everyone on this. We need Y/N.”
“She’s too hot headed,” Aaron replies. 
“Oh yeah?” Derek chimes in. “And how about you?”
“This isn’t about me.”
“You know damn well that Y/N adds as much value to this team as the rest of her. Two years with the BAU and stellar reviews from the board has proven that. Why are you still treating her like a first-day agent?”
“Y/N needs to learn to let go of her ego,” Aaron retaliates. “I don’t need to explain myself to any of you.”
“You’re wrong about her not contributing anything,” Spencer says. It surprises Aaron to hear Reid defy him on your behalf. “For the cases that we’ve worked on with her, she’s been the one to take lead on the preliminary profiles for most of them. Some of our biggest leads have come from her.” 
Aaron breathes and doesn’t say a thing. He looks at his team and knows they don’t approve of his choice to send you back to the hotel, but he stands by it. David looks at him like he’s almost disappointed in him and JJ holds his stare. 
He knows why he’s being extra hard on you. He knows he’s pushing you to your limit by keeping you at arm’s length. Aaron doesn’t want to admit that he sees you as anything other than his subordinate and coworker, but he does. He doesn’t want to be the reason why you don’t advance within the bureau and why there might be a future workplace ban on relationships. Even if he disagrees with how you handled things tonight.
Aaron doesn’t communicate any of this with the team while he stares them down. Instead, he fixes his posture and clears his throat. 
“Get back to work.”
***
When you come to, you’re acutely aware of the handcuffs around your wrist. 
The air is cold and you realize you’re bound to a pole in a barn, and you’re not sure where you are. Everything is suddenly hazy and your vision blurs until you blink rapidly with the hope that you’ll regain full consciousness.
The first thing you can feel is a headache. Your head’s pounding viciously and you wince at the pain, inadvertently tugging in your wrist and against the handcuffs. The metal is cold and it sends a chill up your spine when you realize you’re alone. You try your best to recite what you can sense over and over again in your mind.
The air is cold. You’re sitting on a hard floor with straw and other debris around you. The air smells like manure and hay. You can hear crickets and wind blowing just outside of the barn, and you can see hardware tools towards the back of the building.
The influx of emotions that creep into your chest is enough to make any person an anxiety-ridden mess. Your heart feels like it’s going to lurch out of your chest with every second that passes by because your reality becomes more real; this isn’t a nightmare you’re desperately hoping to wake up from. 
“Look who’s awake.”
It’s Scott. 
He flickers the lights on and that’s when you realize he’s holding a gun. 
“You took quite a while to wake up, actually. I’ve been waiting here for two hours wondering when you’d return to the land of the living.”
Scott dons a smirk that you wish you could wipe off with both of your fists. His right hand grips the gun haphazardly and he waves it around as he gestures while speaking, and the fear of dying has finally crept into the forefront of your mind.
“Where are we?” you ask. 
“South of Los Angeles,” Scott replies. “Far enough that your little team won’t find this patch of land.”
“Why’s that?”
His smirk widens when you stay quiet.
“You know, Agent, I find you interesting.”
“There’s nothing remotely interesting about me,” you say. You try your best to remember the profile and give him what he wants. He hates authority and between the two of you, you legally have all of it. So, you downplay yourself, 
“I beg to differ,” he laughs. Scott takes a step towards you and you recoil. “I’ve been watching this investigation unfold because I need to keep tabs on what’s happening so that I don’t get caught. It’s worked so far, but you were just lucky to have found my little girls.” 
“We found them because you made a mistake,” you chide. “You slipped up.”
Scott’s smirk turns into anger, and he takes another step towards you. 
“I made a mistake because I wasn’t thinking far ahead, Agent.” 
He takes another step and he’s by your thigh. Scott bends down to your level and you’re aware of how close his gun is to your abdomen, and you pray that you don’t say the wrong thing.
“I wasn’t thinking far ahead because I couldn’t see the bigger picture. But it came to me a few nights ago when I realized that you and I are people that don’t naturally get to be in the spotlight.” 
Scott caresses your cheek and you shudder underneath his fingertips. He retracts and stands up, pacing back and forth in front of you. 
“See, you and I are people who don’t get enough credit for our work. All it took was one moment watching your horrendous boss dismiss you for your work. I knew you’d be the key in getting my girls back to me.”
“What are you talking about?”
Scott leans forward. “You’re smart enough to figure it out.”
Unfortunately, it comes to you quickly.
The team had gathered around the house that Jaqueline and Scott had lived in when they were married. Penelope had clued the team in on this location. A new couple lived in that house with no connection to Jaqueline and Scott but you thought it was worth checking out.
Aaron disagreed. That house hadn’t been occupied by either of them for years since they got a divorce but your gut had been telling you to visit the property to look around for extra clues that might’ve turned up. Your insistence angered him, who accused you of disobeying orders, and it was David who had to intervene and remind Aaron never to leave any stone unturned.
Reluctantly, Aaron ordered the team to the house and you successfully convinced the new owners to let you look through their property with the promise that nothing would be disturbed. Two hours into searching and Aaron was ready to write your mishappenings in the file report when he returned to Quantico, but your sudden interest in the backyard piqued everyone’s interest.
You had discovered a well-hidden doorway to an underground room. The new family would’ve never seen it, as it was tucked away with roots and other invasive plants that covered the wooden doorway. When you and Morgan entered the space, it was clear that Scott had been there recently.
Unbeknownst to you, Scott has been hiding out a few houses down watching everything unfold, including the way Aaron distrusted your judgment. He’d been using that bunker as a living space, careful to work around the new family so as to not get caught. It was far enough that they couldn’t see him from where the windows were placed unless they were out in the backyard the same as he was.
“Remember now?” he asks.
You nod, complying. “You watched my boss reprimand me for wasting everyone’s time.”
He nods. “You and I are overworked and underappreciated. We don’t get credit or recognition even though we deserve it.”
“You knew we’d find Gracie and Olivia.”
Scott’s jaw locks but he agrees.
“I knew there was no way I’d be able to get to my girls in time to move them someplace else. So, I let you find them because I knew that I’d have no other chance to get them back if you arrested me.
“Then I followed you all the way back to the precinct so I could keep tabs on you and see where you were staying. It was just my luck that I happened to hear your boss yelling at you because of an open window. I knew my chance was when he ordered you to go back to the hotel.”
“How do I fit into all of this?” you ask.
“You, Agent, are going to help me get my kids back from Jaqueline and cover for me.”
“No chance in hell.” 
Scott doesn’t like that answer. He lunges towards you and tugs on your hair, enough to make your scalp feel like it’s being set on fire. 
“You don’t have a choice. I want my kids back and you aren’t in the position to make any demands.” 
He doesn’t say much after that. Scott looks into your eyes with a murderous expression before letting you go. Your head hits the pole behind you because he pushed you away with enough force that it makes you dizzy again.
“We’ll talk tomorrow,” Scott says from the barn’s entrance. “I need some sleep and so do you.”
He doesn’t uncuff you and you’re left wondering how you can sleep when you’re being held captive.
***
When the team leaves the precinct, everyone is too drained to continue talking about the case on the ride back. They’d only been there two hours after you left but Aaron gets the feeling that the rest of them aren’t happy with him dismissing you. 
The ride is silent and everyone retreats to their rooms respectively. He tries to forget the aching feeling in his chest and goes to sleep. 
He wakes up to a cold sweat. 
Aaron’s still not happy what perspired last night. He nearly made the choice to knock on your door and apologize for being harsh in front of the team and the local police, but he doesn’t. It’s better to put distance. It’s how he rationalizes how he’s treating you because he’ll fall apart if he imagines the consequences of being in a relationship with you. 
You’re the first thing he thinks about when he wakes up. He’s surprised he didn’t hear you knocking on his door to give him a piece of your mind, but he was too tired to consider that you didn’t. 
His clock reads six A.M. and he’s sure the rest of the team is waking up and heading to the police station like he is. Aaron feels more tired with each day passing and it feels like his body is on autopilot mode with how fast he’s able to change and get to the precinct. 
The team trickles in one by one and everyone makes their coffee before picking up where they left off last night. Penelope had sent the team a list of possible places that Scott might be and Aaron wants to cover as much ground as possible.
When he’s more awake, he mentally groups the team and the other police officers to search each property. 
He stops when he realizes you’re not in the precinct. 
At first, Aaron feels annoyed because he thinks you’re late. It isn’t completely out of character for you, as he’s watched you stumble into the office a few minutes before debriefing. Still, he prays that you’ll show up so everyone can move on with their day. 
But you don’t come in. Every person that walks through the door isn’t you and Aaron’s annoyance becomes a question of curiosity with fear at the end of it. 
“Where’s L/N?” Morgan asks from beside him. 
“Probably slept in,” JJ snorts. “She sleeps like a brick.” 
Everyone laughs at her comment in good fun because they know it’s true. You’re a heavy sleeper. But Aaron isn’t convinced. Something doesn’t feel right to him but he can’t quite place what it is. 
He gives it another ten minutes. Aaron’s bouncing from leg to leg, anticipating your arrival. He’s waiting for you to hastily apologize about not hearing your alarm and he’s waiting for you to jump right where you left off because of your tardiness.
But you never walk through the door.
“Something’s wrong,” Aaron mutters. Spencer nods at his disheveled expression from where he sits and Emily looks down at her phone.
“I know she’s a heavy sleeper but there’s no way she’d be twenty minutes late with the stakes this high,” Emily points out. 
JJ walks out of the room the BAU is occupying and inquires with everyone outside if they’ve seen you come in, but all of them say they haven’t seen you since last night. JJ walks back into the room with shaking hands and she’s almost reluctant to tell Aaron that nobody has seen you yet.
Emily tries to call your cell phone one more time with no luck. Aaron sends Derek to check on you at the hotel and doesn't bother to respect the speed limit on the ten minute drive to the hotel from the station. The receptionist is more than willing to give him a key to your room when you don’t answer your phone. 
When he walks in, he notices that you aren’t sleeping in the bed. Your room is clean. The bed is made and there’s no indication that you slept in it last night. Your go-bag is perched on the table and a few clothes are haphazardly thrown on the chair beside it. Nothing seems out of place. 
It’s when he walks back outside to return to the station that he hears a phone ringing from the bushes. Derek walks towards the sound and his breath catches in his throat when he realizes the phone is yours. He curses and picks up the phone to see Emily’s contact.
“L/N?”
“It’s me,” Derek says through your phone. “L/N’s not here and her phone was tossed in the bushes.” Metal catches Derek’s eye. “Wait a minute.” 
He walks forward with caution and his heart drops when he realizes it’s a discarded needle and your gun right next to it. 
“What is it?” Emily asks from the other line. She hears Derek sigh and she knows it can’t be good. 
“It’s a needle and her gun, Prentiss. L/N not showing up to the precinct and her belongings being discarded can’t be a coincidence.” 
From the police station, Emily panics. She hangs up when Derek lets her know he’s coming back and her panic rises when she sees her teammates looking at her quizzically. The lump in her throat grows when she realizes everyone is looking at her for an answer. 
“Did you find her?” JJ asks. Emily doesn’t speak for a second. 
“Morgan found her cell phone in the bushes by the front of the hotel,” Emily explains. “He also found a discarded needle...and her gun.” 
Aaron’s attention shifts from the file he’s holding to Emily, who’s fidgeting with her hands. 
“Her gun?” Dave asks for clarification. “Found outside of the hotel room?” 
Emily nods. “Morgan picked up L/N’s phone and said he found it tossed aside.”
“And none of us saw her when she left the precinct?”
Nobody says anything. 
“I think she’s been kidnapped,” Reid says abruptly. “None of us saw her when we got back to the hotel nor when we arrived at the precinct. Scott must know Y/N was the one who rescued his daughters and he’s either kidnapped her out of revenge or because he wants them back.”
Aaron doesn’t like that answer. 
His hands feel warm and his heart is racing too quickly for his liking. Aaron can feel his exterior start to wither away with the realization that you’ve been kidnapped and he doesn’t second guess himself when he calls Penelope and asks her to track Scott’s cell phone and to triangulate his last known location.
This is now a rescue mission and he hates that you’re the victim. 
The team doesn’t spare a second in finding a third location he could’ve taken you too. Penelope foregoes any of her other responsibilities to find you and Aaron can hear the frantic pace of her keyboard typing as she speaks. Derek and Spencer are visiting locations that hold significance to Scott in the event that he’s returned, but Aaron's doubtful that he’d make that mistake. 
It’s when JJ explains what’s happening to the lead detective does Aaron feel like his world is crumbling around him. He’s put himself at arm’s length so much as to push you away from him and right into the arms of the unsub, and he feels like he might pass out in the middle of the precinct. 
Emily and Dave pick up how quiet Aaron’s been ever since Penelope hung up. He’s too busy staring at the white board and it doesn’t help that your handwriting is all over it. Aaron’s throat is dry and he’s a second away from starting to blame himself for your disappearance, but he knows that he doesn’t have enough time to feel sorry for himself if he wants to find you.
When Derek comes back and tells the team there’s been no luck in finding you, Aaron’s heart sinks. He’s running out of options and he knows his head isn’t where it should be, but he can’t help it. Aaron does his best to keep himself composed when Spencer tries to piece together your timeline and he hates that they’re treating you like a abduction victim because you should be in this room with them. Instead, you’re God knows where and Aaron doesn’t bring himself to imagine that you might be dead already. 
It’s Spencer who makes the connection between you and his children. He theorizes that Scott must’ve been present when you had rescued the children and kidnapped you for one of two reasons: to exact revenge or to force you to help him get his children back. JJ suspects that it’s the latter because of your profile. Scott wants to get his children back and he’d do anything to do it. 
Dave wonders why Scott would risk kidnapping a federal agent and how he knew you’d be at the precinct or the hotel, and Spencer doesn’t hold his tongue when he said the only common link between the two of you is the way you’d both been treated by your superiors. 
The room goes quiet and Spencer thinks he’s overstepped, but he doesn’t regret his choice of words. 
Everyone looks at Aaron, who’s been silent the entire time. He thinks about how angry you were last night and how he convinced himself he didn’t see you shed a tear as you passed him. The guilt of sending you home and not checking in on you when he got back to the hotel is eating him alive because you’ve been missing for twelve hours and nobody knew about it. 
“Reid’s right,” Aaron says. He feels his voice start to break. “We know why he’s taken L/N but now we need to understand how he’s going to use her in order to get his children back.” 
Aaron’s phone rings and he’s grateful for the distraction. Penelope informs them of a house that was paid in all cash and purchased under a false identity a few months ago, and confirms that it was Scott who paid for the property after speaking with the realtor and showing her a photo. Aaron wastes no time ordering the team to head to the house and he feels like he’s running out of time when Penelope says the property is seventy miles from the precinct. 
The ride to the property is agonizing. Aaron’s grip on the steering wheel is lethal and he’s swerving between every car with the hopes that he’ll reach you in time. Emily’s sitting in the passenger seat and she knows there’s nothing either of them can do except hope that you’re alive and well.
“We’ll find her,” she says after a long period of silence. “You know L/N. She’s strong and won’t go down without a fight.”
Aaron hesitates to speak. He gulps and he feels like his mouth is far too dry to hold a decent conversation because while he knows that Emily’s right, he can’t help but feel utterly hopeless on the freeway while you’re being held hostage by Scott. 
“I shouldn’t have told her to go to the hotel,” Aaron says. “I should’ve left it at reprimanding her for going in alone. We could’ve avoided all of this.”
“You of all people know you couldn’t have predicted that Scott would’ve done,” Emily said. “It wasn’t in the profile. Neither of us could’ve predicted that he’d kidnap L/N.”
“I know.” Aaron signals and passes three cars who are driving far too slow for his liking. 
He’s silent again, which doesn’t surprise Emily. Aaron sits in the driver’s seat, a million thoughts racing to the front of his head but he can’t seem to choose the right words to speak. He knows how unfair he’s been to you and all the anger and frustration about not being able to be with you has transpired into this mess he’s found himself in. He should’ve never let his feelings get to this point nor let his frustration shift from the forbidden relationship onto you. 
“I’ve been unfair to her,” Aaron croaks. He hears the crack in his voice as it starts to falter, but he keeps talking because he thinks he might go insane if they sit in any more silence. “I’ve pushed her aside and made her second guess herself as an agent of this team all because I couldn’t keep my feelings in check.” 
“What do you mean?” Emily asks. Aaron sighs and he grips his steering wheel, embarrassed that he’s been an unfair leader and that he’s admitting it to one of his colleagues. 
“L/N is an exceptional agent and it’s no wonder why I fell for her.” 
Emily’s quiet and Aaron’s sure he’s made a mistake by confessing that to her. He wishes he could take it back and lie instead of being honest with his friend, but he can’t take back the words he’s said. And he stands by it. 
“I’ve been so busy trying to pretend like I don’t have feelings for her but every day I’m scared that something like this could happen to her. I hate it when she’s reckless and disobeys orders because I’m afraid that it’ll get her killed.
“I know what it looks like on the outside to see me and my subordinate in a romantic relationship. She’s young, career-driven, and I’d hate to stand in the way of whatever’s next for her. I don’t know how to act around her and I thought that pushing all of this down would help me lose feelings for her, but I haven’t.”
“You sound like a teenager,” Emily says. It shocks him and when he looks at her quizzically, Emily chuckles. “What, you think I couldn't see how hopeless you were when it came to L/N? Hotch, you’re like a kid in a candy store when she’s around. The rest of us were ready to start placing bets on you two until you started giving her the short end of the stick.”
He feels awful. Aaron’s guilt causes him to flex and rev the engine. 
“I never meant to hurt her,” he confesses. “But that doesn’t matter now.”
“What matters is that we’re on our way to rescue her and there’s nowhere else she could be,” Emily reassures. “Scott wants his kids back and he knows they’re in LA county. There’s no way he would risk taking her somewhere else when he doesn’t have Gracie and Olivia.” 
“Right,” Aaron says, clearing his throat. Neither he nor Emily need to chide him for how he’s been treating you. He knows he’s wrong and Emily knows it too. 
“L/N is the strongest out of all of us. She’ll make it through this.”
Aaron has a sneaking suspicion that Emily’s trying to convince herself, but he doesn’t say anything. 
When the team reaches the property, it’s notably quiet. The next neighbor is two miles down the road and Derek’s ready to search the house when Aaron steps out of his vehicle. 
“More backup’s two minutes out,” Aaron explains, “but we’ve got enough people to start the search. Reid and JJ, check the backyard. Prentiss and Rossi, check the house. Morgan, you’re with me. We’re checking the garage.” 
Aaron orders the police officers to check elsewhere before he and Morgan make their way to the garage. With his gun and flashlight in his hands, he approaches the enclosed space with caution and his heart spikes with anxiety. Before he can think about the worst that could happen, two police officers manage to open the garage door as he and Derek search the place. 
It’s empty. 
Aaron curses under his breath as they check the confined space but find nothing out of the ordinary. The rest of the team relates the same information and Aaron feels like he’s losing hope because he doesn't know where else you could possibly be. 
“Guys, there’s a barn across the landing,” comes JJ’s voice from the communications line. “There’s a truck parked outside and I’m willing to bet it’s Scott’s.”
Aaron’s heart stops beating for a moment. 
“We need to search that barn,” Aaron commands. “Everyone pull your resources and let’s head out.” 
It feels like slow motion to him, the way he diverts his attention to the barn that JJ pointed out. He feels like he’s watching the scene unfold in front of him from another person’s perspective and desperately prays that you’re in there, safe and alive. The grip on his gun is falling from how his hands are trembling but he reminds himself that he has a job to do. 
Dave touches the hood of the car and says it’s warm, which means Scott is most likely inside of the barn. The lead detective is ordering his team to secure the back entrance and surround the building so that Scott has no place to run and Aaron instructs his team to do the same at the front. Under hushed voices, he can almost make out the faint scout of scuffling coming from behind the large wooden doors and feels his throat close. 
Then he hears a gunshot. 
Everyone rushes inside and he’s overcome with dread when he walks inside. Aaron’s heart is racing; he can feel the grip of his gun slipping because of how unsteady his hands are and he’s nearly tripping from all the hay that he’s stepping on. He fears the worst when he enters and does his best to prepare himself to see your lifeless body.
But you’re laying on your stomach with a gun in your hands. 
You don’t process the ringing in your ears until Aaron moves beside you to reach for the gun in your hands. He’s tossed it aside and maneuvers you to check for any injuries. Aaron glances at your face and notices a deep bruise forming on your left temple with scratches and smaller bruises adorning your face, and he hates it. 
He hates that your body and face is covered in Scott’s blood. He hates that your hands are still shaking with fear. He hates that there’s nothing he can say or do that will make everything better for you. 
The shirt you’re wearing is covered in Scott’s blood spatter and you’re barely able to process that you’ve most likely broken a few ribs. You don’t say anything. The overwhelming urge to cry resurfaces and this time, you don’t stop yourself. 
Aaron catches you before you hit your head onto the ground and moves his body to sit behind you. You’re stationed between his legs, your back pressed against his chest as you slump over and grab his arm for support as your tears wet his dress shirt. Aaron foregoes all standard procedure and lets you cry in his arms instead of calling for the EMT to whisk you away from the hospital. 
You don’t care that your cries are almost louder than the ambulance sirens. Your adrenaline makes the blood pump loudly in your ears and you grip onto Aaron like you’re afraid Scott will come back to life and kill you if you let go. 
His free arm is secured around you. Aaron’s eyes become glossy as each second passes by and his heart breaks in two when he hears your continual cries.
“You did so good,” Aaron whispers. “So good. You’re safe now.” 
Aaron doesn’t let the EMT get close to you when you’re trembling in his arms. He tells them to wait a moment and they try to argue with him, but they relent when they see Aaron’s stern expression. His voice cracks when he tries to speak upon hearing your soft whimpers. Your eyes are screwed shut and Aaron strokes your hair as you bury yourself further deeper into him.
Dave and Spencer canvas the scene and look around for anything out of the ordinary to report. Derek's speaking with the EMTs while JJ and Emily are patiently waiting with blankets and bottles of water for you. But you don’t get up. Your legs feel numb from sitting down and Aaron’s grip on you is so tight that you feel like you’ll fall back down if you try to stand up.
Your sobs have turned quiet and you almost feel like you’re at peace. But then you remember your bruises and the blood still on your body. You remember Scott’s body and find yourself crying even harder.
“Let’s get you to a hospital,” Aaron says in your ear. “We can get you cleaned up and on your way home. Does that sound good?”
His voice is like honey. Sweet.
You nod and you try your best to sit up to no avail. Aaron tries to help you up and the EMTs catch you before you can fall back onto the ground. He reluctantly lets the EMTs take you to the ambulance where JJ and Emily are waiting. He watches as they drape a blanket over you and as you’re wheeled up into the vehicle. Emily offers to follow you to the hospital and JJ steps away, letting the ambulance drive off.
Aaron doesn’t process anything. He doesn’t hear the sirens, the police chatter, or Dave approach him with a concerned look.
“She’s gonna be okay, Aaron.”
Dave’s voice is nothing but a hollow shell to Aaron. It feels like an empty promise even though he knows you’re going to make it out alive. Still, Aaron doesn’t say a word.
“Let’s go meet her at the hospital.”
***
The doctor explains that you’ve suffered a concussion, a couple of bruised ribs, a broken arm, and a grazed bullet wound. You’ll be relatively fine, but Aaron’s heart is racing and can't get past seeing you covered in blood to pay attention to anything the doctor is saying. He hasn’t had time to beat himself up for sending you back to the hotel without accompaniment and he hates that the guilt is crashing in on him when you need him the most.
Aaron looks down at his sleeves and they’re covered in blood, dirt, and your mascara. He stares down in shock and his mind flashes to the barn, and he realizes it’s the first time he’s ever seen you cry before. It breaks him.
The doctor explains that they needed to sedate you because of your sudden adrenaline rush. Your shock had caused you to lash out when a nurse had grabbed your wrist, and through your clouded judgment, you’d swung at him with all of your might. Your fretful apologies made you uncontrollably sob afterwards and the nurse could only look at you with sympathy. 
Two hours later, the team was still waiting in the waiting room. Under the guise of wanting to get you something to eat other than stale hospital food, Aaron leaves to buy you a meal. But he needs to get ou and get fresh air before he suffocates. 
Aaron’s guilt eats him alive. He walks aimlessly towards a deli and scolds himself over and over again for making you drive to the hotel unsupervised. In hindsight, Aaron knows his personal feelings came into play when he berated you for your recklessness. He knows he was unfair to you because he would’ve done the same thing if he were in your position.
When he returns, Dave’s looking at him like he knows what he’s thinking, but doesn’t say anything. Aaron appreciates his friend’s concern but the guilt doesn’t relent. He fidgets in his seat and tries to calm his spiking anxiety but nothing seems to work. His mind retracts to the moment he found you covered in Scott’s blood and your cries are enough to make Aaron feel like he might shed a tear in front of his teammates.
His thoughts are disrupted when he sees your doctor approach the group. 
“She’s a little out of it,” says the doctor, “but she’s conscious. You’re all welcome to say hello, but only for a few minutes.” 
When the doctor directs the team to your room, she explains what happened after you reached the hospital. Aaron can’t process anything she’s saying. His ears are ringing and he feels like everyone around him is talking too loudly for him to be able to hear anything the doctor is saying. All he can pick up is “dehydrated” and “concussed.” 
Everyone hastily walks to the room you’re in. JJ files into the room first. It takes Aaron a few breaths to find the courage to step inside of the room and he’s sure Emily’s the one who helped him take the first step.
“What’s the prognosis?” your croaked voice asks. JJ sniffles and laughs at the same time, and the rest of the group watch you try to prop yourself up.
“How you’re able to joke at a time like this is beyond me,” JJ gushes. She takes a pillow from the bed and helps you sit up.
“What, a few broken ribs and a concussion? I’m lucky the bullet only grazed me.”
Nobody laughs but you can tell they’re trying their best.
Aaron towers over everybody easily and he’s in between trying to catch your gaze and trying to avoid it. Emily hands you the sandwich from the local deli and you waste no time, opening the wrapper and letting the aioli slide down the side of your mouth.
It’s easily the most adorable and most heartbreaking thing Aaron has ever seen.
“Slow down, Tiger,” says Derek. He grabs a nearby napkin and wipes the sauce away while you smile sheepishly.
“Sorry,” you mutter, taking slower bites. Spencer’s next to hug you and you welcome the way he refuses to let you go.
Everyone looks at you under the harsh lights of the hospital room and you feel like you’re being observed. The sedative you’d been given is enough to make you feel somewhat normal because no matter how hard you try to panic over the last few hours, you can’t. 
You feel like you’re numb to your experiences and the pain Scott inflicted. Staring at your team feels eerily normal and you almost forget that you’re sitting in a hospital gown with enough injuries to put you out of the field for a few months. 
“You broke my heart, kiddo,” Dave chimes in. He grabs your free hand and gives it a gentle squeeze, accompanied by a kiss to the back of your hand. JJ pulls you into a mother-like embrace, kissing the crown of your head. You lean into her touch and Aaron wishes he were the one comforting you.
“I feel like shit,” you confess. “I woke up feeling groggy and I feel like I’m about to pass out.”
“We’re so glad you’re okay, Y/N,” Emily says. 
“Thanks, Em,” you say. You take another bite. “This sandwich is good.”
“Aaron bought it,” Emily speaks.
You look at him. It’s the first time you’ve acknowledged his presence since he walked into the room.
“Thanks,” you mumble behind the sandwich. “I could eat five of these.” 
“I don’t want to deal with you puking on us,” Spencer jokes, and it makes you feel somewhat normal.
You don’t like feeling as though you’re a delicate piece of glass that’s close to being dropped. You hate feeling useless and pitied. Everyone’s looking at you with sad eyes and it makes you feel like you’ve let your colleagues down, even though you know there’s nothing you could’ve done to prevent what transpired.
“I’m really sleepy,” you say, haphazardly throwing the wrapper on the table next to you. It isn’t a lie, but you say it with the hopes of being alone.
“We’ll be back in the morning,” JJ says. She looks at the clock in front of her and doesn’t realize that it’s four in the morning. You squeeze her hand when her eyes well up. JJ wipes her eyes and blinks her tears back and you lean against her side.
Aaron can’t help but stare. You look so vulnerable at this moment and you’re doing your best to keep yourself awake, but the sedatives are making you drowsy. The team says their goodbyes and reluctantly trek back to the hotel, but Aaron can’t bring himself to walk into the building once he’s parked.
“Get changed,” Dave says after a brief moment of silence. Aaron looks at him in confusion. “Take a shower, eat something from the vending machine, and go back to the hospital.”
“She doesn't want me there,” he says slowly. 
“She’s asleep,” Dave dismisses. “She’s not going to know you’re there and I’m sure she’ll want to see a familiar face when she wakes up.”
“I’m not sure I’m the person she wants to see.”
“You were the first person she reached for when we entered the barn,” Dave explains, “and I know you won’t be sleeping a wink tonight unless you’re by L/N’s side. Go get changed and get back to the hospital, Aaron.”
“I just–”
“I know you feel guilty. Whatever feelings you have towards her never went away and that’s why you’ve been so hard on her.” Aaron’s not surprised that he’s picked up on this habit. “I don’t have to agree with how you handled it, but what matters is that she’s alive and she’s resting. We got her back, Aaron. She’s here and Scott isn’t.” 
Aaron knows Dave is right. He thanks him for being a good friend and trudges back into his hotel room, hastily freshening himself up before returning back to the hospital.
***
You wake up later in the morning with little to no recollection of how you got there. You feel extremely out of it, like someone removed a ton of bricks from your chest after keeping it there for a fortnight. You look to your left and see a window that shows you a gloomy D.C. morning. You look to your right and see Aaron Hotchner slumped over in a seat, asleep. 
This wakes you up. You’re blinking the sleep out of your eyes when you realize he’s snoring. It’s soft and unassuming, but you don’t remember the last time you’ve ever seen him sleep. 
The chairs must be uncomfortable, too. You do your best to sit up—which is when you notice the sling on your arm—and manage to prop yourself up on the pillows until you’re sitting upright. Aaron stirs in his sleep at the sound but he’s still asleep.
You’re not close enough to reach him and wake him up. You aren’t sure that you want to either, for the fear that he might start telling you a laundry list of all the things you did wrong throughout the case. 
The doctor from last night walks in and knocks on your door, which shifts your focus. Aaron’s still asleep and the doctor, who reintroduces herself as Dr. Aguta, gently walks around Aaron and to your bedside.
“How are you feeling?” she asks you while holding a clipboard. You notice her colorful print skirt first and it’s a contrast to how grey it is outside. 
“My head hurts,” you say with a croak. It’s the first thing you’ve said since you woke up. “And I realized my arm’s broken. But other than that, I feel fine.” 
Dr. Aguta gives you a pleasant smile. “I’m glad to hear that you’re doing okay. The sedatives we gave you last night seemed to help ease your pain, though I’ll be giving you a prescription for the rest of the month when it wears off.”
She hesitated before speaking again.
“Do you remember why you’re here?”
Unfortunately, you do. You remember Scott, the gun, and Aaron coaxing you to go with the EMTs. It’s mostly a blur and you can’t remember the details but you remember enough. The softened expression is a dead giveaway and Dr. Aguta doesn’t press any further.
She sees your gaze shift to Aaron, who still hasn’t woken up.
“He came last night and insisted on staying with you,” Dr. Aguta informs. “Typically I’d only let immediate family stay overnight, but your boss seemed extremely worried about you.” 
“He did?” you ask. It’s news to you.
She nods. “When I saw him for the first time last night, I could tell he’s a man of few words and the leader of your team. But last night he was a stuttering mess and I let him stay overnight with the condition that he doesn’t wake you.”
You don’t say anything. Aaron’s mouth is partly ajar and you know he’s going to wake up with a lot of back pain from how he’s positioned. Dr. Aguta performs a routine check up on you and lets you know that you’ll be discharged from the hospital the following day. You thank her profusely and she can only give you a reassuring smile. You ask her to wake Aaron up for you just before she leaves.
Aaron blinks and remembers he’s not in the hotel. Dr. Aguta excuses herself to give the both of you privacy and he sits upright, stretching his back unpleasantly. 
“Morning,” he says, clearing this throat. “How do you feel?”
You’re getting tired of answering this question but you humor him.
“Better,” you say honestly. “Aside from my broken arm and concussion.” Aaron’s gaze shifts to your arm and he almost winces.
“Did you sleep well?” 
“For the most part, but I think the sedatives had more to do with it than anything.”
“Good, I’m glad.” 
An awkward silence falls over the both of you. Aaron desperately tried to pull himself together by waking himself up and you’re fiddling with your hands. You noticed he’s changed since you saw him last night, now in slacks and a quarter zip, and you don’t remember the last time you’ve ever seen him look so casual.
Aaron’s trying to think of the right words to say. As your boss, he wants to tell you that none of this was your fault and there’s nothing you could’ve done to prevent it from happening. He wants to tell you he shouldn’t have ordered you back to the hotel, not without anyone accompanying you.
But as someone who has deep feelings for you, Aaron wants to say he was scared to death and thought he might lose another person he cares for. His anxiety skyrocketed through the roof when he saw what you had done to Scott and he wishes that you didn’t have to work through this trauma.
But he doesn’t say anything. You watch as he swallows and you know his brain is working overtime by how often he pulls his eyebrows together. You don’t have it in you to be angry at him like you were the night he sent you away. The sedatives, along with your exhaustion, leaves little room for anger. 
“I’m getting hungry,” you say to break the silence. 
“I can get something from the cafeteria,” he offers immediately, touching his pocket to make sure his wallet didn’t fall out. 
“That would be nice.” You’d be lying if you said you weren’t touched by the offer.
Aaron leaves for a short while and you try your best to process what just happened. He chose to stay with you overnight. He offered to buy you breakfast. You didn’t think Aaron would care for you like that.
He comes back a while later and apologizes for both the sandwich (that looks haphazardly made) and the time it took, as there was a long line. You thank him politely and eat the meal, and you’re grateful that you have anything to eat at all.
Aaron watches you and feels like he’s invading your personal time. He bought himself a fruit cup, knowing Dave would reprimand him for not eating if he were able to buy something. 
“I shouldn’t have told you to go back,” Aaron says softly. You almost didn’t hear him say it. “I shouldn’t have gotten mad at you. I did the wrong thing and it got you kidnapped.”
You don’t tell him that it’s okay, because quite frankly he’s right. He shouldn’t have sent you home, but you know it’s not his fault that you were abducted. 
“It’s not your fault that Scott took me,” you say matter-of-factly. Aaron can sense what you’re trying to say and his eyes hang in shame. “But I’m alive. I’m going to have one hell of a transition back to work, but I’m alive. I’m here. That is, if I still have my job.”
Aaron’s eyes snap to you.
“The job is yours for however long you want it,” he says immediately, and he means it. “What you did was reckless but I can’t say I wouldn’t do the same thing.”
This makes you smile a little and Aaron soars when he sees it. 
“I didn’t mean what I said back at the precinct either, Y/N. You’re a fantastic agent and we’re lucky to have you.”
There are a million things you want to ask him. Why have you been second guessing me? Is my work not satisfactory enough? Why did you stay in the hospital with me? 
But you don’t. There are too many things you want to say to Aaron that it ends up turning into a frustrating mess every time you think of the right question to ask. Aaron doesn’t seem to notice your lack of conversation. Or if he does, you think he’s trying to fill the awkward silence like you are.
“I don’t mean to be a burden,” is what you settle on. “I don’t purposely challenge your authority or how the team operates. I know I haven’t been here as long as everyone else but I like to think I make enough contributions.”
“You do,” Aaron says. “You aren’t a burden.”
You don’t believe him. “I just…lately I feel like I've been getting in the way of things.”
“You haven’t.” Aaron means that honestly but you don’t pick up on it. “You’ve shown immense critical thinking and problem solving skills. This case alone has proven that.”
You don’t disagree with him, but your mind reverts back to Scott and you start to deflate. 
Aaron knows he needs to apologize for how he’s been acting towards you. The abduction and his guilt is eating him alive and it forced him to be truthful with himself about how harsh he’s been treating you upon realizing he likes you more than a colleague should. But he doesn’t know whether this moment is appropriate or not. Ever the professional.
Both of you are saved by Dave showing up unannounced. He’s dressed casually too, with jeans and a sweater for an unusually cloudy day in Southern California. His knocking brings both you and Aaron out of your heads.
“Hey, kiddo,” Dave laments. He enters the room after you beckon him in and gives you a gentle hug on the side that doesn’t have your sling. “I won’t ask how you’re feeling because I’m sure you’re tired of that.”
“Thank you.”
“But I did want to check up on you,” Dave continues. “The rest of the team are slowly waking up, I imagine.” He turns to Aaron. “I assume we’re grounded here until Y/N can fly back.”
“That’s right,” Aaron says. “Tell the team they have the rest of the week off. I don’t think Strauss wants us spending more of our budget on flights.”
“Already done,” Dave says with a smile. “You had us worried for a while there.” 
“I’m sorry,” you apologize, even though you know you have nothing to be sorry for. “I didn’t mean to make any of you worry about me.”
“We always worry about you, kid. It’s our job.”
“Are the girls okay?” you ask him. 
“Safe and sound. That’s actually why I came to visit, other than to check up on you.” 
You blink out of confusion.
“Jaqueline called the precinct and asked to speak with you,” Dave explains. “Long story short, she got in contact with me and wanted to know if you’d be willing to speak with her. She wants to thank you in person.”
The thought never crossed your mind. Saving her children had always been your first priority, even when Scott threatened to kill you if you didn’t help him. You’re not a mother by any means, but Jaqueline is around your age and you have plenty of nieces and nephews to get an understanding of how difficult this whole ordeal was for her.
And if you were being honest with yourself, you wanted to make sure Jaqueline would be okay. 
“Absolutely,” you say immediately. 
“Y/N, are you sure?” Aaron asks. “You just got to the hospital.”
“I’m sure,” you confirm, turning your attention back to Dave. “They can come visit me here if they’re willing to. I don’t think I have it in me to go to the precinct.”
“Of course,” Dave says with a small grin. It’s almost like he knows this will heal the both of you. He leaves the room and tells you he’ll be back later this afternoon.
Aaron sits in silence and he’s in awe of your resilience. He’s sure it’s the shock and sedatives talking, but he’s always known you to be someone who puts other people first. 
“I should call Strauss and let her know the situation,” Aaron says. “I’ll be back in a little bit, okay?”
“Okay,” you say, and you’re strangely reluctant to let him go. But you do anyway and he walks out of the hospital room, leaving you with your thoughts. 
***
Dave lets you know Jaqueline is here with the girls a few hours later. 
“Agent Y/L/N?” a voice says from beside you. The young mother knocks on the door as two children hide behind her legs. You beckon them inside, with Aaron and Emily supervising from beyond the threshold.
“Jaqueline,” you say, propping yourself up to seem more presentable. “Hi. It’s great to see you.” 
“I’m sorry for barging in like this,” she apologizes, but you’re already waving her off when you see the two children emerge from behind her. “I wanted to thank you in person. For saving my kids.”
“It’s no problem,” you downplay. 
But Jaqueline shakes her head and rushes to grab your hand. She pulls away when she thinks she’s crossed a line, but your grip is devastatingly tight when you squeeze hers. Jaqueline looks at you and tears slip from her eyes, and her children hug her legs like they know something’s wrong.
Jacqueline composes herself and brings Gracie and Olivia in front of her, who each have hand-decorated thank you cards made of colorful cardstock paper, stickers, and glitter. Your heart swells at the gesture and you will yourself not to alarm the family in front of you with your tears, so you promise yourself you’d cry when they leave.
“Hi, Munchkins,” you greet. “What’s all this?”
The girls shyly give you the cards, the eldest taking initiative to put them in your hands.
“Thank you,” she says quietly. “Mommy says you were very brave and saved us.”
“We drew these last night!” the younger one exclaims. “Mommy let us stay up late because we couldn’t sleep, so we made these for you.”
“They’re beautiful,” you compliment, looking at the colors below you. Jaqueline hasn’t let go of your hand. “You girls are very talented.”
“Thank you,” the young one says bashfully. “I hope you get better soon.”
Your heart swells and Jacqueline squeezes your hand again before letting go. You watch her lips flutter and as her children become preoccupied with their dresses, Jaqueline surprises you again.
“Would it be alright if I called you from time to time?” she asks. “To let you know how we’re doing. That we’re okay.” You reach for her one more time.
“I’d love that,” you say honestly.
Jaqueline doesn’t say another word, but the look of gratitude and her quivering lips is enough to make all the hurt from the past few days disappear.
You watch as they leave the room and as the young girls save goodbye. David escorts them to the front of the hospital, which leaves Aaron awkwardly standing in the threshold with his body leaning against the doorframe.
Aaron watches you. Your eyes glaze over and the cards in your hand are slipping through your fingertips, and your lips move as if you’re trying to find the right words to say. But nothing comes out. Aaron listens as your breathing becomes shallow and watches a stray tear slip from the corner of your eyes.
Before he can think, he rushes by your side and envelopes you in his arms.
He’s sitting on the edge of the bed, somewhere between wanting to give you enough space and wanting to pull you against him. Your fingers are tight on his forearms when he hears your labored breathing become erratic and as your tears soak the fabric of his t-shirt.
Aaron takes the liberty of moving you in front of him, his back against the pillows you were sleeping on. He looks at your frail body in front of him; you always carry yourself as a strong-willed, independent agent on the field, and now he sees that he mistook your brazen character as recklessness when it was false bravado.
His heart aches when your grip on him tightens. Aaron reaches out to move the cards to the side table and pulls you against his chest, thankful that this bed is barely enough to fit the both of you. Aaron notices your craned neck, bringing the hand that isn’t wrapped around your frail figure to your head and gently moves your head to his chest.
Your soft whimpers are enough to make Aaron’s heart break all over again.
“You’re an amazing person,” Aaron says. “You are selfless, caring, and generous.” His words compel you to cry even harder and Aaron lets you weep in his arms until your eyes are dry and you’re hiccuping. 
Aaron doesn’t let you, not for a second, feel embarrassed about breaking down in front of him. His thumbs are drawing soothing circles on your arm and he’s wiping away your tears with a tissue, allowing you to unravel before him. 
Your dry heaving doesn’t bother Aaron, but he coos into your ear and tells you he’s going to get you a bottle of water when you grip his arm. He pries your fingers off of him and melts when you snuggle your head closer to him, but he knows you’re thirsty and the best thing he can do for you is keep you healthy. 
“I’ll be back in two minutes,” he promises. “I’m all yours after that.” 
You nod reluctantly and let him go. The bed feels empty when he leaves and you feel pathetic for hanging onto him like he’s your lifeline, but you don’t care. You just want to be held.
True to his word, Aaron comes back a few minutes later and uncaps the bottle for you. A soft ‘up’ utters from his lips and you sit up straight. He brings the bottle to your lips and tilts your head back enough to let the water slide down your throat. 
Aaron puts it aside when you’ve signaled that you’re done and slides into the spot next to you once again. He puts his arm around your shoulder and brings you to his chest again. 
You don’t tell him, but you feel his heartbeat. It’s irrationally fast and you don’t know what to make of it. You tighten your hold on him as you start to fall asleep and you miss the way Aaron rocks you to sleep. 
***
When it’s time for your discharge, you’re feeling better than you did a few days ago. The team welcomes you back on board once you’ve been cleared to fly and it feels like nothing’s out of place. 
JJ bought a bunch of pastries from a local cafe and everyone (save for Aaron because he was with you the entire time) has written little messages on a decorated card. It’s Spencer who frets over you the most, bringing you cups of tea and asking if there’s anything he can do to ease your pain. You’re quite touched. 
You know you’re in no shape to drive home when you land. Your dominant hand is broken and your car sits in its designated spot, no doubt gathering dust and debris. The team is tired from the trip and everyone checks in on you one by one before leaving, and you don’t know how you’ll get home until you realize your car keys are still in your desk drawer.
Aaron watches you for a moment. He notices your apprehensiveness and the way you look at your car keys, and he puts two and two together. Before he can register what he’s doing, Aaron’s making his way to you and offering to drive you. You start to tell him you don’t need a chauffeur and that he should go home instead, but he’s more worried that you might hurt yourself inadvertently. He persists and you reluctantly say yes because you know he’s right. You could barely open the door to the building, let alone drive home. 
The car ride to your apartment is quiet, save for the sounds of cars passing by on the freeway and the sound of gravel underneath the tires. You look up at your apartment complex when you tell Aaron the code to get into your garage and he parks in the visor spot after you’ve directed him.
The sling on your arm is a nuisance and you already can’t wait to get it off. You’re able to unbuckle yourself with your free hand and you’re surprised that Aaron opens the door for you.
“Thanks,” you mumble. 
“It’s not a problem.” You can tell he means it.
When you get to your apartment, you’re somewhat surprised that you haven’t lost your keys. You struggle to put them into the lock correctly with your non-dominant hand and Aaron can see the quirk of your eyebrow and how you’ve bit your lip out of frustration.
He fears he’s overstepping. He takes the keys out of your hands gently and opens the door for you anyhow. 
When you walk inside, you don’t think you've ever felt happier to see your small one bedroom apartment. Aaron sets your go-bag on the kitchen counter and you stand still for what seems like an eternity until he brings you out of your haze and encourages you to change out of your clothes and take a shower. 
But you don’t move. You stand in the middle of your living room and stare blankly out of your window, unable to appreciate the breathtaking view of D.C. like you always do. Your throat feels dry and your feet feel like they’re permanently planted on the hardwood floor beneath you.
Aaron comes to stand beside you and he leaves distance between the both of you. He looks at the sight before him and makes a comment about how he’s jealous of your view, but not even that gets a reaction out of you.
“I don’t want to be alone,” you mumble after a long pause. “I-I can’t be by myself right now.”
Aaron knows Jack is at sleepaway camp for a school trip and doesn’t get back for another few days. He doesn’t have to think about keeping you company so you don’t feel alone.
“I can stay with you,” he offers. “I’ll sleep on the couch.”
You turn to look at him and the offer is enough to bring tears to your eyes. 
Aaron sounds so soft, caring, and unlike himself. Your heart tugs at his caring nature and you’re overwhelmed with the notion that he’s caring for you like he cares for your colleagues.
“Please,” you croak.
Aaron nods. He puts his hands on your arms and ushers you into the hallway and you point him in the direction of your bedroom. He’s acutely aware that this is the first time he’s ever been in your apartment, let alone in the room you sleep in, and tries not to dwell on it for your sake. 
“You should take a shower and sleep,” Aaron suggests. “It’ll help clear your head.”
You follow Aaron’s lead. He guides you to your dresser and you grab an extra change of clothes and he accompanies you to the bathroom next door. 
“I’ll be in the living room if you need anything, okay?” he says. “Don’t be afraid to get me.”
“Okay,” you say meekly. Your voice is far too dry to speak normally.
Aaron closes the bathroom door and you avoid looking at yourself in the mirror. You’re sure you look like a mess, despite being taken care of in the hospital back in Los Angeles. But you feel sticky from the flight and the sudden change in temperature, and you want nothing more than to cleanse yourself of the memories from LA.
You remove the sling from your arm and try your hardest to take your clothes off but you find it exceptionally difficult with your arm being in a brace. It hurts to lift your arm and you nearly cry out of frustration and exhaustion when you realize you can’t take your shirt off by yourself.
Embarrassed, you contemplate on showering with your clothes on, but ultimately know you’d need to take them off anyway. You open the door and call for Aaron, and you hear his steps as soon as you do.
“Are you okay?” he asks when he realizes you’re still in your clothes.
“I can’t, um, take my clothes off,” you say, clearing your throat. “I can’t bend my right arm and my left one is extremely sore. I can’t take my fucking clothes off.”
Aaron isn’t offended by your defensiveness. He gathers that it’s your coping mechanism because you feel embarrassed, but Aaron doesn’t care. He doesn’t say anything but he nods like he knows what you’re going through and you have a suspicion that he might.
“I’ll close my eyes and take your clothes off for you,” Aaron says. He says it in a way that’s so sincere but it still makes your cheeks redden at the innuendo. Aaron tries to ignore it because he feels a blush coming.
“It’s so pathetic that I can’t do this by myself.”
“It’s not pathetic,” he reassures. “You have a broken arm and your body’s still in pain. Let me help you.” 
You don’t say anything and Aaron takes it as a cue to move closer. True to his word, he puts his arms on your waist and turns his head away from you, careful to not hurt your broken arm. He maneuvers the fabric until it’s free from your body and he’s acutely aware that he’ll need to touch you in order to take the rest of your clothes off.
Aaron’s surprised when you move his hand to the button of your slacks. He clears his throat while you look up at the ceiling and bite your lip, pretending that the situation you’re in is completely normal to keep yourself from blushing too much. Aaron’s fingers work on the button and he’s careful not to put his hands where it’s inappropriate. He almost laughs at the thought, considering he’s your boss and he’s helping you take off your clothes.
You shimmy out of your slacks as Aaron slides it down your legs. He blushes at the thought of what’s to come next and swallows hard. Aaron returns to his stance and finds his neck is sore from craning, so he keeps his eyes closed and faces you.
“I’m sorry,” you apologize again. “I-I don’t think I can unclasp my bra.” 
You wince at your words, but it’s true. You tried to reach behind you when Aaron worked on taking off your pants, but the ache in your shoulder was too much. 
Aaron doesn’t say anything and you’re afraid that he might leave you. He’s so quiet that you can barely hear his breathing and you look at his closed eyes and see that his jaw is clenched. He mumbles and you’re barely able to catch it. Aaron lifts his hands to find your shoulders and you nearly shiver underneath his warm hands, despite the fact that your body might be just as hot. 
Aaron reaches behind you and searches for your clasp. You can feel his fingers on your back as he feels for it and he’s incredibly aware that your gaze is on him. It takes all of his willpower not to open his eyes. He’s imagined undressing you before, but not like this. Aaron’s fingers find the clasp and he’s slow to undo it, afraid of tangling the metal.
You feel yourself free from its constraints and Aaron slowly moves his fingertips from your shoulders and down your arm. You comply the best you can with your sore arm and your broken one, and your breathing hitches.
Aaron ignores how fast his heart is beating when he hears your bra drop to the floor. His mind is in overdrive and he bends down again, his fingers immediately coming to your waist and gripping them with gentle care. You look down at him and your mouth is wide open with your jaw hanging when you realize he’s on his knees in front of you. Aaron’s fingers hook on the material of your underwear, but you can’t bear to see him take them off.
“Wait,” you say, squeezing your eyes shut momentarily. 
Aaron forces himself to keep his eyes closed and he can hear your shallow breathing. His fingers are wrapped around the fabric of your underwear and suddenly he’s aware that it’s an intimate piece of clothing. Aaron’s cheeks redden and he’s desperately hoping you don’t notice.
“I can do it,” you say. Your voice wavers and you aren’t sure that you won’t be in pain when you take them off, but seeing Aaron on his knees with his hands practically down your underwear is too much for you at this moment.
“Sorry,” he apologizes, clearing his throat. His fingers detach themselves and he abruptly stands up. Aaron keeps his eyes closed still.
“No, it’s okay,” you say, and you mean it. “I really appreciate you helping me out…I’m sure this has crossed a lot of boundaries.”
Aaron wants to tell you he doesn’t mind it one bit, but he holds his tongue to refrain from making you uncomfortable. His eyes feel heavy and he stumbles when he stands up but catches himself when he feels the doorknob behind him.
“Like I said, I’m here if you need anything.” 
Aaron stands still for a moment and it feels like the both of you had the air knocked out of your lungs. He doesn’t want to overstep or make it seem like he’s taking advantage of your vulnerable state, so he exits the bathroom and closes the door behind him.
You lock it immediately and pin yourself against the door. Your heartbeat is irrational and you turn the water on, fixing it to your desired temperature. Bending to take your underwear hurts and your shoulders feel like they’re about to pop off, but you manage.
You’re acutely aware that Aaron’s in your living room, no doubt trying to rid himself of the awkwardness. You aren’t sure if you’re grateful at what transpired because while it’s enough to help you forget about Los Angeles, it makes your cheeks flare into a hot mess and you feel uncomfortably turned on.
Aaron, too, feels the same way. He feels filthy sitting on your couch and results in pacing around the room. His shoes are discarded by the door and it feels all too domestic. Aaron’s tie is suddenly too tight so he tugs on the knot to loosen it. He rids himself of his suit jacket and places it neatly on the arm of the couch, and thinks about anything but you, naked in the shower. His slacks feel a little too tight, so he takes out his phone to check his email. It works for a while,
A while later, Aaron realizes you’ve walked out of the bathroom and you’ve managed to change without his assistance. You comment about how the shower loosened your muscles and you were able to get your clothes in relatively painlessly, but all he can think about is how cute you look in an oversized shirt and sweatpants.
He’s too preoccupied admiring how undone you look because it’s the complete opposite from how he sees you at work. In Quantico, you’re somewhat put together, always wearing appropriate office attire and taking your caseload with grace while the rest of the team complains to no end about the amount of paperwork that needs to be filed.
Now, you’re standing in front of him with wet hair and an old shirt that has lost some lettering. It’s domestic and Aaron loves it.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t even think about offering you the bathroom,” you say timidly. 
It’s nerve wracking for you to be in Aaron’s presence because of what happened a few moments ago and because you’re not sure why he’s been so nice to you. It’s fresh and strange at the same time, as you’re used to him looking over your shoulder.
But you don’t feel like he’s being domineering. 
“I’ve got a few shirts that might be your size,” you announce. “And a bunch of sweatpants too.”
Aaron’s heart flutters at how welcoming you are considering all that happened to you, but he’s also found himself standing with jealousy when you mention that you have men’s clothing. Are you dating someone? Does he know he’s there?
“I love thrifting and sleeping in big shirts,” you explain, overcompensating for how awkward you feel to be standing in front of your boss looking like a disheveled mess. “I tend to thrift for clothes in the men's section because you guys have really good clothes for dirt cheap.”
Aaron’s worries are quelled and he doesn’t know why he feels so relieved to know you aren’t seeing anyone. 
“That would be great,” Aaron says. 
You nearly skip to your room and huff at your awkward demeanor, pulling out a large shirt from your dresser and a pair of sweatpants you hope is big enough. When you walk back to the living room, Aaron is still standing in the same spot and you’re somewhat touched that he’s nervous to be in your apartment.
“You can change in the bathroom,” you instruct. “Take as long as you need. There’s an extra toothbrush on the counter and a towel on the rack.” 
Grateful, Aaron scurries into the bathroom and you walk away before you can think of imagining him getting undressed. Instead, you busy yourself by fetching extra blankets and pillows for him. There’s an extra thick blanket in your closet and you pull two pillows from your bed, unsure if Aaron’s the type of guy to care about his pillow count. You find yourself stumped for a moment, each hand two with pillows as you debate on how many to give him, before you realize how idiotic you must seem if someone were to take a peek inside your head.
You settle with two pillows. 
You’re fixing a cup of tea for the both of you when Aaron walks out of the bathroom fifteen minutes later. You know he likes to drink chamomile tea on the plane when you’re coming back from a case late at night. You’ve seen him make it a million times. It feels weird to be making him a cup, but you figure it’s the least you could do after he helped you change out of your clothes. 
“I made you tea,” you say lamely, setting the cup down on the opposite side of the kitchen counter. Aaron walks towards you and he feels the hardfloor beneath him and how hot the mug is when he touches it. Thinking about this distracts him from your broken arm and the swell of guilt he has in his chest. 
“Thank you,” Aaron says. 
“I put in a little bit of honey. I hope it’s not too much.”
Aaron raises his eyebrow. “How’d you know I liked honey in my tea?”
“You drink it a lot on the plane,” you explain. “I see you make it a lot. You always scold Spencer every time he puts too much of it in.”
He can’t help but smile, but he hides it behind the cup.
Neither of you say anything. You don’t know what more you can say. The words cause you to choke every time you think about what happened back in Los Angeles. Realistically, you know there’s no way Scott can hurt you anymore, but it doesn’t stop you from panicking at the thought of being alone in your apartment. 
But you look at Aaron, who’s looking at you, and you’re able to let your guard down for a little while. 
“Thank you,” you muster. “For taking care of me back at the hospital and back at the barn. It…it meant a lot that you stayed.” 
“Of course,” he says a little too quickly. “You’re a member of this team and your safety is my top priority.”
Your gaze drops to the floor. You aren’t sure what you were expecting. An apology? A confession? Truthfully, you don’t know what you want to hear from Aaron but it hurts knowing that he views you as just another colleague.
“I’m sorry that I haven’t made you feel that way in a long time,” Aaron starts when he realizes you’ve grown quiet. “A member of the team, I mean.” 
“I-I just felt like I should’ve been doing more,” you confess. 
“You’re doing everything right, Y/N. You’re an exceptional agent and an outstanding person. Any part of the bureau would be lucky to have you.”
“Yeah?” you ask quietly. 
“Absolutely.” Aaron means in.
You finish your tea and it all becomes too much for you. The pain of your arm is quelled by the medication your doctor prescribed and Aaron helps you open the bottle. It makes you feel silly that you need someone else’s help to do something so simple and you feel your frustration get the better of you. 
“I’ll be out here if you need anything, okay?” Aaron reassures. “Please don’t hesitate to wake me up.”
“I promise,” you say and it’s one you’re planning on keeping.
You close the door behind you and turn off the lights. It feels weird to be in your apartment because you feel like everything should be back to normal, but it isn’t. In your years with the BAU, nothing as serious as this kidnapping has ever happened to you. You’ve been trained to deal with kidnappings before and how to talk to the victims and to the survivors, but you’ve never thought you’d have to deal with the aftermath yourself. 
You can’t sleep on your side because of your cast and your body feels like it’s constantly being run over by a stampede. The soft mattress is a contrast of how stiff your body feels and it all feels like it’s too much. 
Aaron can’t sleep either. He’s been staring at the door for the past thirty minutes as he tries to fall asleep. His phone is plugged into the wall behind him and he checks in with Dave, who texted him as he drove you back to your apartment. Aaron briefly thinks about Jack and his heart softens for a moment, but then he hears your soft cries from the room.
Aaron lies completely still and hears your whimpers. He hears you sniffle, blow your nose twice, and he’s acutely aware of the fact that he has no idea what to do. He has half a mind of barging into your room to comfort you until you’re asleep, but he doesn’t want to overstep his welcome more than he already has. Aaron feels frozen on the couch and doesn’t know if you’re too nervous to ask him for comfort.
He’s surprised when you walk outside. You don’t turn the lights on and he can barely make your face when you step into the moonlight. But you look frail, broken, and like you’ve been tormented by your memories. Aaron hates that.
“Aaron?” you call out. Your voice is small and his heart cracks. “Can you keep me company?”
Aaron doesn’t need to be told twice. 
He lifts the blankets from his legs and follows you into the bedroom. You sit on the edge of the bed and sniffle. Aaron sits next to you and carefully puts his arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his side.
It’s comforting and it aches. The pain of trauma and knowing that your life will never be the same again makes it seem like you’re never going to recover. Aaron doesn’t say anything, letting you cry into his shoulder and ignores the way your tear stains have soaked through the fabric. 
He’s imagined being in your apartment before; he often wonders what your decor looks like and how often you spend time here. He’s imagined cooking breakfast for you before you wake up, making you cups of your favorite tea, making the bed after you’ve both woken up, and kissing you goodbye when you walk out the door. Being in your bedroom like this feels too intimate, but if he was being honest with himself, Aaron doesn’t really mind it. He likes that he’s the person you choose to lean on. He feels like this is the first step in holding himself accountable for how he’s treated you in the past. 
Your shoulders are shaking and Aaron does everything he can think of to coax you through your sadness. He whispers praise and allows you to cry when you keep apologizing for your behavior, and he keeps telling you that he’s not going anywhere. 
When you manage to calm down, you’re tired. Aaron lets you climb underneath the covers and tucks the blanket under your chin. His hand brushes your skin and he blushes, though he’s sure you can’t tell because of how dark it is. Aaron bids you goodnight and starts to walk back to the living room but you reach out for his hand before he gets the chance to leave. He turns around and feels your soft grip on him. 
“Could you sleep with me?” you ask. “Or at least stay with me until I fall asleep?”
“Of course,” Aaron says. He throws all caution in the wind and starts to walk to the other side of the bed and he’s surprised when you open the covers for him.
Your mattress is soft and your blankets smell like you. He tries not to think about it and leaves space between the both of you.
“Did you know I joined the BAU because of you?” you ask in the darkness.
“What?” Aaron says of shock.
You laugh lamely. “You guys held a few seminars at my alma mater and I knew then what I wanted to do with my life. I applied to the academy the next fall.”
Aaron doesn’t know what to say. His cheeks are hot and you’ve rendered him utterly speechless. In your tired state, you push yourself as comfortably as you can until the back of your head is leaning on Aaron’s chest, mindful of your broken arm. 
Aaron’s stunned and his body stiffens. But he thinks of all the times he’s thought about laying beside you like this and decides that he’ll cherish it as much as he can. His arm snakes itself underneath you as he tugs you closer, and he whispers a soft goodnight.
***
D.C. is a little cloudy when you wake up. The light peeks through your blinds and you’re made aware of the man sleeping beside you when you realize your face is buried in his chest. Your good arm is beneath you while the other is on top of the blanket. Aaron’s arms are encircled around you and when you feel his warmth. 
You don’t rush to wake him up. Being here with him somehow feels right despite the part of your brain telling you he’s your boss and nothing more. But Aaron wouldn’t stay with you if he didn’t want to, right? 
Part of you thinks he’s doing it just because he feels guilty. You know that there’s some truth to that, but you wonder if it’s the only reason he elected to take care of you. But you decide it’s too early to think about this. Instead, you close your eyes and bask in Aaron’s warmth, and fall asleep again. 
This time, Aaron wakes you up twenty minutes after you fall back asleep. His arms are numb from your weight and he feels like he might try to kiss you if he doesn’t wake you up. 
Your eyes flutter open and you bury your head in his neck. Aaron doesn’t bring himself to push you off of him. He pulls you against him and the both of you lay in silence for what feels like an eternity. 
Eventually, Aaron has to leave because Jack’s coming home from a sleep away camping trip. He apologizes a thousand times over because he knows he said he wasn’t going anywhere, but you tell him that Jack is more important. An unrecognizable expression flashes across his face before he’s out the door, promising you that he’ll call to check in once Jack’s home.
And he does. Aaron calls you a few hours later when Jack’s in the shower and asks you how you’re feeling, if you’ve taken your medication, and if he needs to do anything for you. You decline for his help despite desperately wanting him back in your apartment.
When night falls, Aaron lets Jack stay up an hour later than usual. They’re watching cartoons from the nineties when Aaron gets a sudden idea. He pauses the television and turns to Jack.
“Do you remember Y/N?” Aaron asks his son.
“Of course I do,” Jack says. “She’s the one who buys me snacks when I come to visit you.” 
“That’s right, buddy.” Truthfully, Aaron didn’t know you’ve continuously done that for Jack. But he rolls with it. 
“Is she okay?”
Aaron knows Jack can tell something’s up.
“Not really,” Aaron replies honestly. “She got hurt real bad in our last case and broke her arm.”
Jack opens his mouth in surprise. “Oh no. Do you think she’ll get better soon?”
“I hope so. She needs a lot of help right now because she lives alone.”
“Well she can stay with us until her arm is better,” Jack says as if it’s the most obvious solution in the world. Aaron can’t help but smile through his shock. 
“I’ve gotta ask her first, but I think that’s a great idea. That’s actually what I wanted to ask you.”
“It’ll be fun!” Jack exclaims. “Me and Y/N can watch cartoons while you’re at work and she can help me with my homework. She’s nice like that.” 
“Yes she is,” Aaron says, nodding. 
“Do you think I should make her a card so she feels welcomed in our home? I think I have leftover paper and glitter. Girls love glitter.”
“Y/N would love that. I’m going to talk to her first and if she agrees to stay over, you can make her a card.”
“Yay! This is gonna be the best sleepover ever.” 
Aaron’s ecstatic that Jack’s receptive to the idea. He calls you the next morning and proposes the idea of staying at his place until your cast comes off. When you lament how long that’ll be from now, he insists and tells you Jack was the one who came up with the idea.
You can’t say no to Jack. 
Aaron helps you gather belongings from your apartment and tells you that he’ll drive you back here or pick you up any time you want or need to. You double check that you’ve packed enough clothes for a week.
It’s a gradual and awkward start. You feel out of place as you try to navigate his apartment and where he keeps everything, not wanting to feel like you’re already welcomed in his home. But Aaron keeps reminding you that his home is your home and you don’t need permission since you’ll be here for a while.
Jack is sweet, too. He helps you by telling you where everything is stored and goes so far as to hold your hand while doing so. He insisted on tucking you in while you slept in the guest bedroom just to make sure you were comfortable on your first night, and you thought you might start crying in front of him.
At first, you walk on eggshells. You tiptoe around the boys and feel like a burden when Aaron brings home dinner for three or when he buys extra groceries, especially when he refuses to let you chip in. Jack tries to ease your worries after sensing your discomfort by asking you to build legos with him and you do your best despite the pain in your arms.
Aaron reminds you of your medication (and in turn, Jack asks you if you’ve taken your pills), cooks your favorite comfort meals, and drives you to mandated therapy sessions whenever he has the time. It warms your heart at how helpful he’s been since you know how busy he is typically, and you’re not sure what to make of your emotions. 
Time passes by and suddenly staying with Aaron feels somewhat normal. You’re off of work until your arm is healed and you’ve seen your therapist a number of times, and you know you have a couple of months of doing whatever you want until you go back into the field. Against the advice of Strauss, you continue to help with cases and the paperwork load so Aaron can spend more time with Jack.
Gradually, you start to feel comfortable when you’re alone. You use his kitchen, clean his dishes, and busy yourself with tidying Jack’s messes. You explore his neighborhood and have found a few cafes and restaurants you’d like to try out. You feel more comfortable lounging on his couch instead of keeping yourself in the guest bedroom.   
It feels domestic and you can’t tell if it’s a good or bad thing. There’s still so much left unsaid, including how you’ve felt being his subordinate prior to your abduction. Aaron’s apologized over and over again, has given you time to heal from it and chooses not to ask for forgiveness in lieu of letting you find it yourself. It means a lot. Deep down, you know Aaron isn’t a bad person. You just wish you knew why you were different.
A week turns into two, then into three, and soon enough you find yourself caring after Jack. You feel useless if you sleep in and start waking up early to make breakfast as best you can for everyone (limited to cold breakfasts until you start to feel confident using your dominant arm when it’s out of the sling). Aaron walks into the kitchen to see you making oatmeal one day and you’re worried that you’ve overstepped, but he thanks you profusely.
Jack waddles in and he takes the oatmeal without question and asks if you can put brown sugar and fruit in it. You look around and see apples and blueberries, and Jack chooses the blueberries. He watches as you fix him a bowl and eats his breakfast in silence.
It becomes a routine for you after growing tired of doing nothing all day. Helping Aaron’s around the house as best you can, working remotely on cases, and spending time in his neighborhood feels like you’re recording.
Jessica, Jack’s aunt, has been informed of your stay by Aaron. You’ve met her before in passing but have never spoken to her in depth before staying with Aaron. She picks him up and drops him off, making small talk with you about her life and about your work. It goes so far as coffee dates when she’s available and it feels like your life is getting back on track.
Meanwhile, Aaron realizes he’s bit off more than he can chew when he sees you every morning. He hears your morning voice and finds himself wanting to wake up to it every day. He sees the way you are with Jack, how thoughtful and helpful you’ve been, and thinks it’s where you belong.
And it hurts. It hurts to know that all of his suppressed feelings are suddenly coming to the surface.
Your cast is coming off later today and you’re due for another mandated therapy session and a psychological evaluation before you’re able to return to work. He’s elated, but that means you’re okay to return to your apartment and he’ll have to get used to the house being empty.
Aaron’s parked his car at Quantico and he glances at you in the passenger seat. Your arm sling and cast are gone and you look as good as new, but he’s reluctant to step out of the car. You look back at him, hands fiddling in your lap.
“Thank you for taking care of me,” you begin. “I don’t know what I’d do without you and Jack.”
“You’d be just fine,” Aaron assures. “But it was nice seeing you recover. Is your arm doing okay?”
“It’s like I never had a broken arm.” You flex it in front of him for emphasis. “My shoulder’s still a bit sore but I think my physical therapist has expedited the healing process.”
Aaron smiles. “Good. I’m glad.” 
A brief moment of silence falls between the two of you before you both get out of the car. Your therapist had asked you whether or not you were ready to integrate yourself back with the team and was scheduled to supervise your initial day back in the office. You’re apprehensive, however, because you know that you never perform well if you’re being watched closely. 
JJ’s the first to greet you when you walk through the doors. The office smells the same and it looks the same, but it doesn’t feel the same. You spend a few extra seconds embracing JJ and gather that she needs this hug more than you do.
Everyone files in and it’s barely eight in the morning. David congratulates you on recovery, Derek and Penelope bombard you with jokes that make your stomach hurt, Emily shows you photos of Sergio upon your request, and Spencer gives you a side hug and tells you he’s glad you’re doing better.
The therapist arrives soon after and you’re on your best behavior without making it seem like you’re trying to be. 
In the end, she permits you to return back to the BAU with the promise of continuing therapy. She refers to you to a few others and tells you that you should try to go in at least once a week, or however frequently your job lets you. You’re clear to fly, yield your gun, and you’re reinstated as a profiler with the BAU.
Aaron drives you back to his place to pick up your belongings before he drives you back to your apartment. He and Dave had been kind enough to drive your car back to your place, where it’s been sitting untouched.
The ride is filled with music from the eighties and you’re so elated from your first day back at work that you don’t mind singing in front of Aaron and pretending you’re shredding on an electric guitar. He takes his time getting home, taking the long way instead of the direct route, and he doesn’t think you notice. Aaron hopes you don’t.
But he arrives at his place and Jessica’s greeting you at the front door, happy to see you’ve recovered before she goes home. The sun has barely set and Jack walks out behind his aunt, asking you what’s for dinner.
You’re stunned for a moment as the realization that this all ends tonight. Staying with Aaron, falling into a life of balancing work and domesticity comes to an end when he drops you off at your apartment. Jack’s tugging on your elbow and Aaron scolds him because you might still be in a little bit of pain. He apologizes sweetly.
Aaron beckons you inside where you've started to pack your belongings. The luggage you've brought seems smaller than when you brought it, as you find it difficult to pack everything. You make the bed and set the room as you found it (to the best of your recollection), and you’re ready to put your shoes on when Aaron rounds the corner.
“I was thinking we could have one last meal here.” He clears his throat. “To celebrate your recovery.”
You don’t hesitate. “I would love that. I finally get to show you my cooking skills.” 
Aaron smiles and Jack runs to your legs, beckoning you to the kitchen. You settle on making oven baked chicken with mashed potatoes and honey glazed carrots, all of which Aaron had in his refrigerator. Jack asks how he can help and you’re touched when he brings a stool to perch on, and you tell him he can help you by rinsing the potatoes. 
Aaron offers to help and you look at him with a silly grin, letting him prepare the carrots while you prepare everything else. Halfway through the process, Jack becomes somewhat irritable because of hunger and because the entire kitchen smells like a Thanksgiving feast. But he relents and waits for the meal to be done when you tell him the food always tastes better when it’s cooked longer.
You almost forget it’s your last time with Aaron and Jack when you eat your meal together. You forget it when Jack insists on ice cream for dessert and when Aaron makes you a cup of tea just the way you like it. You forget about it until Jack asks his father if he can be there when he drops you off at your apartment. 
Your heart breaks a little. Aaron agrees and lets you grab your belongings while he buckles Jack in the car. Your luggage is in the trunk by the time Aaron is done and he opens the passenger door for you before getting in the car himself. Jack talks the entire ride, thanking you for dinner and lamenting how much he loved spending time with you. Aaron’s grip on the steering wheel is tight and he doesn’t think his heart could swell any bigger.
Eventually, the boys walk you up to your floor and Jack lunges at your abdomen after the three of you have walked into your living room. 
“I’m gonna miss you,” Jack mumbles in your sweater.
“You’ll see her around, buddy. She’s not leaving the team,” says Aaron.
“But I’ll miss Y/N at home. I like spending time with her there.” 
You and Aaron share a look. You can’t tell what he’s thinking but you know you’re unable to control the influx of emotions that will eventually spill out of you when they leave. 
“Me too,” Aaron says quietly. 
They leave soon after that.
You spend an hour crying in your living room and you haven’t unpacked your suitcase. Living with Aaron and being so close to him made you realize how your feelings for him, albeit complicated, have always been there. 
You love him. You love his generous nature. You love the adoration he has for Jack and for his team. You love how he knows your beverages of choice and how gentle he’s been with you. You love the way he says your name and you love that you feel right at home with him.
It’s ten o’clock when you grab your phone and you know Jack’s been asleep for at least an hour. You dial Aaron’s contact and in your anxious state of mind, nearly regret your actions. But he picks up and you hear the sweet melody of his voice through the phone. Your voice falters at first, but you push through them anyway. You’re sure Aaron can hear your voice post-crying because of how raspy your voice is, but you don’t care.
You tell him you think you love him and it’s not because he’s been taking care of you. You pour your heart and soul into this speech and you panic when he doesn’t say anything.
“This’ll be one hell of a story we tell Strauss.”
And you laugh. You laugh because you know Aaron feels the same and you laugh because facing paperwork and recounting this conversation to Strauss doesn’t seem like the most frightening thing in the world anymore.
But just for good measure, Aaron tells you he loves you too. 
***
AAAND WE’RE DONE X 
7K notes · View notes
randomoutsiders · 1 month
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asking hotch to do push ups and say your name in between (ifykyk)
a designated day off is a rare occurence - a date circled in red ink and bedazzled by giddy stars on the calendar that hangs by off the side of the refrigerator is a day to be celebrated. but it hasn't been, yet, as you tuck your feet further underneath your bottom, pallid features still waking up at this early hour as you cradle a cooling mug of coffee between chilled palms.
the waffle mix box still rests, unopened, on the kitchen counter, an adjacent bowl too close to the edge. aaron sludges into the living room, footsteps heavy and dark fringe awry from its typical professional position. "g'morning, sweetheart," his voice is still sodden with fatigue, vocal cords grating against one another in that deep baritone when he deeps in to smooth his lips over your cheekbone. "i know i've got the day off, but i still have to train for this triathlon thing," he preens when he runs his hands over his face. "fuck."
your toes curl in their warm socks underneath your bum, and you run a tongue over your lips. "just a quick workout couldn't hurt," you offer, motioning mindlessly to the coffee table. "could move this thing out of the way and bring up your weights. wouldn't mind breakfast 'n a show."
hotch's eyes, still foggy with sleep, narrow in exaggerated accusation, hands settling sassily on his hips. "you'd like that, wouldn't you? and you'd have to get started on breakfast first, honey, don't think you can call coffee a meal."
his jab at your frequent java substitution for a proper breakfast earns a kick at his shin when you untangle your leg out from under you. "okay, then get going then, mr. muscle man. let's see if you can own up to your end of the deal."
he retaliates with an eye roll, feigned perturbance rolling off his shoulders in heaping waves when he drops, albeit slowly, to the ground. "alright, alright."
"say my name when you do them." your words are nearly muffled by the next mouthful of hot coffee, but aaron catches them.
"yeah?" he grunts when he sinks into a pushup, elbows cracking with the sudden strain at this hour. "why's that?"
you shift again. "just do it."
aaron obliges, and you make no effort to hold up your end of the agreement, licking over your lips as your name slips from his own. the wimpery wisp of each grunt, each huff from tired lungs, and arousal is amalgamating in your navel, oozing and churning in its fiery path. "oh jesus," he realizes, head falling as soreness bleeds into his biceps. "i can't believe i fell for that."
"keep going," you breathe, unable to cloak the frog in your throat. your muscles seize up when he does it one last time, chest tightening when you go to place your mug back on the nearby table.
when your fingers fly to the belt of your robe, aaron's already jumping up from the floor, already forgetting the pain that bites at his muscles. "alright, on your belly," he grunts, hand shoving down his sweats.
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ssahotchnerr · 1 year
Note
plsss aaron x BAU!reader when he has a crush on her, then she meets Jack at the office and that only makes her like her more because she is so good with kids and aa😭 just shy!Hotch trying his best
bewitched
<333333 cw; none!
aaron had been bewitched by you the second you walked into his office.
one second, he was drowning in paperwork. the next, he was drowning in your eyes.
and that was just the beginning. ever since that moment, your initial meeting, he couldn't help but fall desperately for you. and hard. your smile, your laugh, your selflessness and kindness for others. you had enveloped his mind and heart in every way possible, and he constantly wondered how he's gone through life for so long without you.
stupidly, he didn't think there could be anything else that could make him yearn for you even more. he was completely wrong.
jessica had been called into a work emergency, and with nowhere to leave jack at in such short notice, dropped him off at the bau upon aaron's instructions. aaron didn't have too much of the day's paperwork left to complete, so jack could finish homework or whatnot in his office before they both headed home.
the familiar sound of jack's voice caught his attention, causing him to peer out into the bullpen through the blinds. it didn't take long for his eyes to land on his son, who was accompanied by none other than you.
you were perched down on your toes so you were eye-level with jack, a vibrant smile on your face as you spoke to him. jack's face was just as excited as yours, talking your ear off about something. aaron wished he wasn't so out of earshot, wondering what the two of you could possibly be discussing.
as he observed, aaron felt his cheeks warm, a smile of his own tugging on his face. he had witnessed you previously with children, throughout different cases, he was very well aware you were amazing with kids. but seeing you with his son, was different and was something he didn't know he needed. as long lasting as his crush on you has been, of course he's pictured the dynamic the three of you would have together. he knew jack would absolutely love you, and seeing it vaguely play out right before his very eyes, the more he wanted his dreams to become a reality. the three of you- becoming a family. it was too easy to visual, you attending jack's soccer games, movie nights, going to the park on a sunny afternoon, or just the simplicity of all things life had to offer.
the action of you reaching for jack's hand snapped him out of his thoughts, his heart fluttering even more as jack grabbed your hand without a second thought. you waved goodbye to someone, making aaron just realize jess had been there all along. it was like aaron was waking up from a dream; the pull of being brought back to reality.
aaron took a deep breath, trying to compose himself, before heading towards the doorway of his office to greet the two of you, a bright smile on his face.
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reidsaurora · 9 months
Note
Can you do height difference + "one more kiss? please?" with Hotch? Pretty pretty please with Mick Mars on top? <3 - V
hmmm i wonder who this could be 🤔😉
"Coffee + Kisses" ~ A. Hotchner
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pairing: aaron hotchner x wife!reader
summary: "mornings were made for coffee and kisses. at least, that was aaron's philosophy."
word count: 740
warnings: a single swear word, mentions of food, that's literally it
genre: tooth-rotting fluff, quite literally with all the sugar references in this blurb
extra notes: the aaron icon in the collage is by @ssa-sapphic (edited to fit theme better!) and the dividers below are by @firefly-graphics
masterlist | kissing prompts | ask box
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mornings were made for coffee and kisses. at least, that was aaron's philosophy.
most people looked at the stoic figure that was aaron hotchner and assumed he was brash and hubristic, emotions on a completely different plane of existence from his physical form. but you? his trophy wife? no, you got to see every hidden layer underneath his apathetic walls, your own little personal slice of heaven.
so while most people assumed aaron's mornings were spent with his nose buried in the newspaper, black coffee in hand, they couldn't be further from the truth. this man was all homemade iced lattes, sugary cereals, and good morning kisses.
that last one may or may not be how you ended up here, nearly ten minutes late for work, coat and purse still hanging up by the door, one shoe on and the other nowhere to be seen.
"i have to get up," you'd told him. "unlike you, i unfortunately have to work on saturdays."
but when he gave you that look, that sweet pout that made even a grown man look innocent, you couldn't say no. one kiss turned into two turned into three, kisses turned into five minutes of snuggles, and now you were here, rushing around the house and tracking down your missing heel like a modern day cinderella.
"aaron, have you seen-"
as if on cue, the man—still sporting his pajamas and bedhead, his chin dark with a five-o'clock shadow—rounded the corner, missing heel in hand. "sammy apparently needed a snack," he chuckled, bending down and putting the shoe on for you. he stood back up to full height, somehow still towering over you, even with your extra three inches of artificial height.
"sammy needs a stern talking to for stealing his mama's shoes," you kidded, tossing your arms over his shoulders. even you wondered how aaron, the seemingly heartless man that he was, fell in love with the tiny ball of fluff that had apparently stolen your shoe.
"i'll definitely be in contact with him," he joked, pulling you up for a soft kiss. he tasted like cinnamon toast crunch, a strange juxtaposition from the manly smell of his deodorant, but not an unpleasant one. suddenly, you worried about what your own breath tasted like, making a mental note to eat a couple tic-tacs on the way to work just in case.
you forced yourself to pull away, being met with a disapproving pout from the man above you. to anyone else, his height might've made him seem intimidating, but you knew aaron was nothing but a gentle giant, akin to a teddy bear in human form. "i have to go," you reminded him, still not having unlinked your arms from around him.
"just one more kiss?" he said, his bottom lip jutting out like a child in a toy store. "please?"
and who were you to deny him, the absolute love of your life, just one more kiss? despite the logical part of your brain telling you not to give in, the absolutely smitten part of your brain won, practically telling the other part to go to hell.
you leaned up once again, your lips locking with his for one last, sweet, good morning kiss. his palms settled on your hips, holding you as close as possible, a gentle gesture in hopes of changing your mind about going to work that day. and little did he know, you were close, oh so close, to calling in sick. to making up a fake family emergency. to just saying, "sorry, i simply don't feel like it."
but in the end, you knew it was for the best to suck it up and go to work anyway. after all, the time spent apart only made the moments together that much more special, that much more worth it. "i have to go, love."
he gave you one last peck, releasing his hold from your hips. "fine, i'll just be here," he said, falling back on the couch dramatically, "longing for you, my dear."
you giggled at the sight of this grown man acting like a character in a shakespeare play. "you're so dramatic," you commented, heading for the door.
not having moved from where he lay after his performance, he shouted, "love you too!"
"love you more!" you called back, closing the door behind you swiftly. you shook your head, giggling. what were you going to do with him?
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-> taglist: @1234-angelika @lowsodiumfreaks67 @drayshadow @alexxavicry @cordyandbilliehavemyheart @the-lucky-ones311 @mercuryvapours @darkloverfox @sammyrenae68 @cherrycandle @asgardprincess97 @gh0stgurl @esposadomd @randomwriter1021 @eddieharrington @paintlavillered @lavhoes @rhyanishere @namorswhore @danielle143 @handsupforamiracle @topguncultleader @ah-blossom @reidselle @dungeons-are-too-cold @bbbbbbbbbbbbbbl @louderfortheback @reidsbookclub @annahargrove @cwritesforfun @maelartasch @lover-of-books-and-tea @juismissing
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rubyarrows · 3 months
Text
Late Night Meal
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After two grueling weeks of chasing down one of the most dangerous criminals the BAU had faced in a long time, I was finally on my way back home and back into the loving arms of my wife. As much as I loved my job and be a hero in most cases, there was nothing like going back to the comfort of my own home with the woman I loved more than anything. Every time the team goes out, it feels like an eternity has gone by before we can catch the bastards and come home. But I knew that YN would always be waiting for me with open arms when I did. 
The click of the front door echoes through the quiet house as I stepped inside, the weight of the past two weeks weighing heavily on my shoulders. Darkness shrouded each room I walked into, signaling the lateness of the hour that I had made it in. This caused me to assume that YNN was already dead to the world in our bed by now. I felt a twinge of disappointment at the thought but with how late it had gotten, I didn’t blame her. 
After putting down my things on the back of the couch, I made my way to the kitchen to grab a glass of water before turning in for the night. As I got closer, I noticed that a soft glow from the oven’s overhead light illuminated the room. Surprisingly, I found YN standing at the counter putting what looked like the finishing touches on a small meal for the two of us. 
“Well, hey there, beautiful,” I greeted as I walked up and wrapped my arms around her from behind. “I thought you would have passed out by now. You didn’t have to wait up for me.” 
She let out that small giggle that always had me believing the world itself had paused for a moment just to hear it as she leaned back in my hold. “I know.” she said and looked up at me. “But I knew there was a chance you hadn’t eaten anything since this morning, so I made a little something to fill you up after getting the text that you had landed.”  
I was touched by the simple gesture she had made, knowing how exhausted she must have been after cooking a meal at this hour. “Although, it’s sweet for you to do this, you didn’t have to. I could have easily just grabbed something small on my way to bed.” 
YN gave me a soft smile as a glint of understanding appeared in her eye. “Aaron, you just spent two, almost three, weeks away from home catching a serial killer. You have had enough to worry about in that time alone that finding or making something to eat first thing when you got home was not going to be one of them if I had a say so in the matter.” 
I leaned down placing my lips on hers in a gentle and appreciative kiss. As we pulled away, I smiled. “You have no idea how much I appreciate all of that,” I said sincerely. “It’s been quite a rough two weeks and coming home to this and you makes it all worth it.” 
YNN smiled as she reached for a plate and passed it to me. “I’m just glad you’re home safe,” she said as I took the plate from her.  
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multific · 8 months
Text
Sweeter Than Honey
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Aaron Hotchner x Reader
Summary: It was love at first sight for him. You needed him to walk past you one more time.
A/N: This is an AU where he wasn't married to Haley and doesn't have a son. Enjoy~
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Beneath the hard exterior, behind all the walls that he built up, Aaron was a very gentle and kind soul.
His walls came with his job.
His walls helped him to stay sane, or at least as sane as he can possibly stay. 
You just recently started working for the BAU, being the right hand of Garcia, you soon found your place within the team.
"Agent Hotchner, this is Agent Y/L/N, the latest addition to your team." he still remembers when you were first introduced to him, you were so kind, smiling, eyes filled with excitement and nervousness.
You were ready to prove yourself and he could see that. Back then, he didn't realize it, but now, after you working for the team for the last year, Aaron can face his feelings.
He can see now just how much he loved you.
Now he understood everything Morgan was talking about. His attraction to you, the way he always protected you, the way he always looked for you first whenever there was danger.
He didn't want to admit it, but what other choice does he have?
It was bad. Bad for him to fall for you, bad for him to feel this way towards you.
He wanted to forget but he couldn't.
You had him wrapped around your finger since day one.
The worst part is that he didn't want to hide it anymore, he wanted to try. He wanted to have you even if it was wrong. But how will he do it? How will he go about this without pressuring you into this? How will he do this without pushing you into a corner?
And so, he found himself doing bad things.
During the next case, he made sure they 'forgot' to book a room for you.
"You could stay with me." he offered.
"Oh, I don't want to be a bother..."
"You aren't." he said before he started to walk towards his-your shared room.
His plan worked.
He heard about the 'one-bed' scenario. And he hoped for the best. He felt bad about it until you walked out of the bathroom wearing a nice nightgown, as you laid down he noticed the dress ever so slightly rising up revealing more of your delicious thigh. 
Aaron bit his lip as he found himself unable to sleep. He kept tossing and turning.
"I can't sleep either." he suddenly heard you talk which made him pause. "This case is... difficult."
Of course, you are talking about that while his mind was running wild.
So wild, he was sure his boner was visible even in the dark.
You turned around and looked at him, letting out a sigh and a yawn.
"We will catch him." you tried to reassure him.
"I know." he said as he turned his head to look at you, now laying on his back. You offered him a smile.
He noticed how your eyes became hazy, sleep trying to take over but it seemed like you were fighting it.
But soon, you succumbed and fell asleep. 
Aaron watched you sleep for hours before he too got some rest.
The next day went on like normal, the team collected some information that they could use for the profile, but all Hotch was able to think about was you. He wanted to go back to that hotel room, have a shower with you, eat something and then make sweet sweet love on that bed.
It was all he could think about. 
Just how sweet it was to spend time with you, sleeping in the same bed. It felt so domestic, so sweet. 
He wanted that feeling every day for the rest of his life.
But was it too much to ask for? Perhaps it really was. 
That evening you were even more tired, he could tell, he could see it in your eyes.
You were tired, very tired.
As soon as your head hit the pillow, you were out.
Aaron once again found himself watching but this time, you moved closer. Out of instinct, he put his arm under your head and you placed it instead on his chest. He felt air leaving his body but never coming back, he was too afraid to breathe.
He must be dreaming. Yes, that would be the only logical thing.
The next morning when he woke up you were still sleeping on his chest.
He debated if he should move or not. 
But it was like his phone decided for him. As it went off, he quickly got out of bed, he heard you letting out a sigh before he picked up the phone.
"They got his address, Y/N, we have to go." he said and you were quick to jump into action even if you were still a bit delirious from sleep. 
Aaron was actually sad that the case ended so early. He still wanted to enjoy having you close, he wanted you to cuddle up to him again.
But it was all in vain.
You were already on the jet, heading home.
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A/N: If anyone is interested in Part 2 let me know!
Taglist: @fleursirvart @greenarrowhead @thisismysecrethappyplace @sincerelyfan @theoneanna @aestheticsandmarvel @rororo06 @castellandiangelo @destynelseclipsa @spilledinkindumpster @capsiclesdoll @puknow @alwayshave-faith @alex12948 @lxdyred​  @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek @praline357 @trshngyn @avengers-r-us @violet-19999 @top1bbgloak   @manduse   @jacalineiscomingforyou  @mandoloriancookie @noname2246
~Masterlist~
ˇAO3ˇ
DO NOT STEAL, REPOST OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS  
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hornyhornyhimbos · 3 months
Note
SMUTMAS LOOKS SO GOOD may we please please have an aaron hotchner fic where the reader is at a BAU christmas party and aaron is eye fucking her all evening and he finally gets her alone in his office and she rides his thighs/they fuck/overall HORNY PLEASE
so so sorry this is just now getting posted, nonnie. i hope you know i didn't forget about you, i have just had an awful december lol. i hope this was worth the wait though!
"Party For Two" ~ A. Hotchner
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Summary: When Reader wears quite the scandalous outfit to the BAU's annual Christmas party, Aaron has to put her back in her place.
Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x AFAB!BAU!Reader
Word Count: 1,752
Content Warning: MINORS DNI (18+ content) unprotected piv sex, creampie, thigh riding, spanking, slight cockwarming at the end, slight nipple play, Aaron sorta degrades Reader but not really, slight d/s dynamics, nicknames (dollface; sir), explicit language, lmk if i missed anything!
Extra Notes: very sorry i didn't post this earlier, i was ✨️insecure✨️ about my writing skills
Originally Written: 12/02/2023 through 12/18/2023
criminal minds masterlist can be found here!
smutmas info can be found here!
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To say Aaron's gaze hadn't made the space between your legs tingle all night… well, that would be the biggest lie you ever told.
In Aaron's defense, how was he supposed to act when you showed up to the BAU Christmas party in a skimpy nightgown that barely covered your ass? Hindsight was always twenty-twenty, and he decided after you showed up looking like an absolute goddess in your tiny silk gown that Penelope was never allowed to pick the theme ever again.
On the same note, you couldn't say you weren't utterly obsessed with the way he looked in his own pajamas. Plaid pants hanging low at his waist, gray shirt hugging his muscled arms and abdomen in ways that should definitely have been illegal.
Butterflies floated around in your tummy as he approached, his normally brown eyes nearly black as he continued to hold your gaze. Still, he acted as nonchalantly as possible, setting his cup of punch down on the table and meeting you with a soft tone. "Can I speak to you in my office, Agent Y/L/N?"
You swallowed the hard lump in your throat, giving him a subtle nod. Your thighs involuntarily clenched together as you started to head into his office, though you met him with innocent eyes as he shut the door behind you.
Hands were on skin immediately as your mouths connected, Aaron kissing you like his life depended on it. He'd wanted to get you alone all night long, and as soon as he realized most of the people at the party were too tipsy to notice if the two of you snuck away, he took his chance.
His lips pulled away first, his eyes dark as your gazes met once again. "What were you thinking, dressing like this?" The words were light, like he was genuinely asking and not reprimanding.
Your eyes remained doe-like as you answered, "Just wanted to look all pretty for you."
Aaron had the audacity to scoff, the low noise sending heat straight to your lower stomach. "Lying and disobeying in the same night? Sounds like you're looking for a punishment, dollface."
In one swift motion, he had you leaning over his paper-covered desk, one hand pushing your tiny dress up to reveal your butt. You'd purposely worn the skimpiest panties you owned, the tiny thong covering absolutely nothing.
His hand came down on you, smacking hard and surely leaving the skin a nice, bright pink. Your teeth bit down on your bottom lip, holding in the moan you were already so desperate to release.
"Care to explain what this," he paused, grabbing the thin string of material between your asscheeks, "is all about?" Aaron gave you no time to respond, instead releasing the material and savoring the whine you let out as it popped against your sensitive core.
Another hard slap sounded throughout the tiny room, your skin stinging and your cunt aching. In juxtaposition, his palm soothed over the burning skin, his lips leaving a soft kiss to the dip of your back as he awaited your answer.
"Just wanted to look all pretty for you, sir," you repeated. Your hips shifted involuntarily, searching for some kind of reprieve as well as displaying yourself for Aaron. Your cunt practically dripped around the sorry excuse for underwear you were currently wearing, and you simply couldn't wait for him to take notice.
As if on cue, he was pulling you back up, his mouth smashing into yours for another long, hard kiss. His tongue dipped between your lips while his hand met your ass again, squeezing the skin hard enough to leave bruises under his fingertips.
"Do you think you deserve to cum tonight after what you did?" Aaron asked, his lips barely parting from yours while he spoke.
Eagerly, you nodded. Arousal and want stung between your thighs at his offer, wanting nothing more than to cum all over his cock before the night was through. "Please, sir. Need you to make me cum."
His hands moved to the front of your body, sliding beneath your bra and pinching lightly at your nipples. A soft moan exited your mouth and entered his before he pulled away, a smirk tugging at his lips as you started to turn desperate for him. "Such a pretty little thing when you beg for me." A finger reached up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. "Tell you what, dollface. Beg for me just a little longer and maybe I'll give you my cock. If you do a real good job, I might even let you decide how you get it. Okay?"
You gave him another nod before he was pulling you back in for another hard kiss and dragging your body over to the couch. Your tongues collided as he pressed a thigh between your legs, a desperate whine falling out of you at even the slightest friction.
"You like that?" he teased, flexing his thigh. Another needy whimper slipped between your lips, effectively answering his question. Large hands met your hips and began to help you find friction on his thigh, his clothed leg feeling absolutely heavenly under your barely-clothed core.
Your brows furrowed as he started to work you harder, Aaron clearly reveling at the impatient expression across your face. His smirk grew wider as you humped at him like a lost puppy, Aaron your savior.
"Hey," he cooed, fingers wrapping around your chin and leaving crescent moons there as he pulled your face to look at him. "I'm not hearing any begging."
His words caught you off guard, your body unsuspecting as his hand came down on your asscheek once again. "Aaron, please," you whined, your puffy clit desperate for reprieve.
"Gonna have to try a little harder than that, dollface."
"Please," you begged and brought his hand to your front, your silent way of asking him to rub you, touch you, anything really.
A chuckle tumbled between his pretty pink lips, a sound that made your insides melt. A thumb pressed ever so slightly on your sensitive bud, the touch making you clench around nothing. "Is this what you want? Want me to help you finish?"
Your mouth parted into an open 'o' as he circled your clit once, just enough of a touch to have you keening. Your hips slowed as you settled into his touch, desperate for his fingers to bring you to your climax.
In swift motions, he was lifting your legs and pushing a finger under your sad excuse for underwear, a fingertip prodding at your entrance. "I can't hear you, dollface. Where'd my desperate girl go off to?"
The tip of his digit barely breached your entrance before his name started to tumble from your lips like a prayer. "Aaron, please," you repeated, surely sounding like a broken record while all he did was barely touch you.
Aaron's slick-covered finger came up to your parted lips. He met you with a leveled expression, like he didn't have you acting like a needy slut right inside his work office. "Dollface, can you suck for me? Want you to taste and see how desperate I make you."
His index finger entered your mouth, the taste of your essence making you moan around his thick digit. "Tastes just as pretty as you, huh?" You nodded in response, not yet releasing the digit from your mouth.
Aaron must've decided to take pity on you, helping you guide yourself along his thighs just a few more times as he pulled himself out of his pajama pants. Without giving you any time to adjust, he was pulling your thong to the side and sliding into you, your walls immediately adjusting to his familiar length.
"Shit," you whined as Aaron started to pound up into you, the head of his cock brushing your sweet spot easily. Every ridge and vein of him filled you up like nothing else, no one else ever could.
"Feel good, dollface?" He was teasing you now, asking rhetorical questions he obviously knew the answer to. "You like the way I fill you up?"
A small noise of approval came out of you as his hips slammed upward into yours, the heavy smack of his balls creating the perfect friction against your ass. You were close, oh so close.
When Aaron pulled your gown off and your bra down, meeting one nipple with his thumb and index fingers and meeting the other with his tongue, you were a goner. Your orgasm washed over you as his hands and mouth and dick made you feel absolutely euphoric.
His hands moved back to your hips while his mouth switched breasts. Tight fingers grabbed your love handles for purchase as he fought for his own orgasm, his palms bouncing you up and down on his length.
"Oh, my god," he groaned, pre-cum coating your walls as you rode his cock for all it was worth. His parted lips, his desperate fingertips on your skin, the thatch of hair on his stomach rubbing deliciously against your clit. It was all too much and not enough and it was oh so hot.
Aaron's thrusts became hopeless and hard as his release washed over him, thick spurts of his seed painting your walls. Both your thrusts slowed as you continued to ride out your highs, hands and mouths desperate to touch any part of the other person you could.
You crashed on top of him, trying and failing miserably to catch your breath. Delicate fingers brushed over your hair, Aaron's chest rising and falling beneath you.
"Did I do a good enough job?" you kidded, eyes already half-lidded. A silent prayer went up that no one would walk in and find you like this if you did fall asleep.
A soft chuckle escaped his lips, a small peck meeting your uncovered shoulder. "You really wanna go for round two after we both just nearly passed out?"
Teeth met his neck, leaving a gentle nip. "Can't help it. You make me insatiable."
Another string of deep laughs fell from him, his eyes meeting yours through dark lashes. "I suppose I did make a promise. How do you want me then?"
"Just want to lay here with you inside me. Is that okay?" you answered, clearly content.
In one swift motion, he was flipping you over onto your side, sliding into you from behind and cupping a large arm around your much smaller frame. "For you? Anything works for me, dollface."
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-> taglist: @reidsbookclub @broken-stardust @dungeons-are-too-cold @theghouligan @sadgirlml
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criminalskies · 2 months
Note
You and Aaron on a Museum Date Together HC's
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Photo credits after the cut.
Aaron buys your favorite cup of chai and you go to The Met together.
You spend all day roaming the galleries enjoying the blend of old and new art.
You tease him for not having a favorite artist, but he reminds you that you don't have one either. So you both decide to try and pick a favorite painting.
In the wing with the statues Aaron tries to find the statue that looks most like you. When he finds one, he tells you that you're more beautiful than any work of art.
Aaron goes full dad mode in the ancient art galleries and he has to read all the little signs with information on them. He makes you look to because he's holding your hand.
When the museum gets a little too busy for his liking, you lead him out of the grounds where you stroll around leisurely taking in the pretty day.
Aaron can't help but look at the security measures at the museum and tell you how he'd change them.
The next week, Aaron gets a package from you, it's a print of his favorite painting. He hangs it in his living room and thinks of how you are the most beautiful thing in his life. That you are the living embodiment of perfection.
______________________________________________________________
Photo Credits:
Center Row: Middle (@catsadams)
Bottom Row: Left (@doomed-introvert Center and Right (@reading-books-in-the-moonlight
Holy smokes Levi I am so sorry time got away from me in replying to this but !!!!!!!!!!!!! Awwwwwww I love this 🥺. Let me run through these oh my goodness it's just so cute.
I should have known something was up when you were asking me about my favourite drinks 🥰 but awwwwwww that's so sweet. whenever people greet me with a little treat in hand I am reduced to a blushy lump.
The way Aaron would be so so educated on all these artists, old and new, and their styles and the works meanings, meanwhile I'm looking at it and saying it feels like a warm blue blanket and hes just like ??? yeah okay so they actually had to feed their family and-
favourite painting is so much more doable. I was that kid that couldnt even have a favourite toy bc the others would feel left out, so talking about favourite artists in a museum full of art??! awful, I can't do it. A favourite piece, I might be able to manage 😅
STOP IT AJHJDFKHDSJFHS YOU CAN'T JUST DROP SOMETHING THAT SWEET ON ME?! god i'd kiss him until he got dizzy for that one. Or i'd just go beet red. Hopefully both.
He definitely has to read every word on the plaques bc we both know he prides himself on being so well-read and well educated. Like sure he's no Reid but by god Aaron is so fucking knowledgeable on damn near everything and it is so so sexy. Meanwhile if it doesn't have a pulse I know nothing about it. But of course if he's going to hold my hand I'm going to do absolutely anything he wants to.
MUSEUM GARDENS ARE SO SEXY AND HE DEFINITELY KNOWS HOW MUCH I FUCK WITH CUTE PLANTS fjsdhfjshkjfh I would 100% force him to spend equal amounts of time in the fresh air outside just sitting or walking and holding his fricking hand (i forget how badly I just want to hold his silly frickin hand)
He watches the guards swap shifts and he's like pfffft one of them checked in his firearm to the safe before the new guard had even retrieved his, and they had an almost EIGHT minute conversation. That's plenty of time for any thief to- and I'm like aaron aaron it's okay. they're just paintings. It's okay.
LEVI YOU ALWAYS WANT ME TO CRY AND YOU ALWAYS GET ASTONISHINGLY CLOSE TO ACHIEVING IT. what do you meeeeeannnnn he hangs it and thinks I'm the most beautiful thing in his skfjskljsldfkjkflsddjshfjjhgkjfhdkjghdkjfghd what if this killed me 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺
Also also also, may I please note that all of these images are just so elegant and set such a tone like they''re so perfect for this little date you're picturing. Gosh I don't know how you do it honey but thank you for sharing these headcanons, they have really brightened my day. Thank you sweetheart 🫂💖💐✨
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hollandroos · 9 months
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Hotch fluff where reader spoils him?
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You look around the room nervously hoping you hadn't forgotten anything. Despite your worries, the view infant of you was exactly as you had envisioned it.
An old tablecloth lay across the dinning table with a candle burning at each end. Both nearly burnt to the bottom. His favourite dinner waited patiently to be enjoyed by the two of you. (slightly burnt but still edible. Only just.) And little gifts - small tokens of your love were scattered between rose petals.
And there you stood in one of your boyfriends old shirts and beat up sweats. Super romantic.
It was your long term partners birthday and of course, he had been on a case. But just as the clock hit eleven thirty seven pm, your phone chimed, a thoughtful text from the man himself to let you know he was tirelessly trekking up the steps of your shared apartment.
Ready to see his lover.
Despite the mans busy day, you'd be damned if he thought you weren't going to do at least a little something for his birthday.
The door to your apartment opens carefully - he probably thought you were snuggled up in bed by now, not waiting with a sleepy grin and hooded eyes. Evidence of your efforts to make the last twenty minutes of his birthday special.
"What is this?" Aaron asks carefully, placing his briefcase down. His suit jacket comes off next and Aaron feels a wave of relaxation wash over him.
Your presence often did that to him.
"Your birthday dinner. You really thought I wouldn't do anything?"
"I had an idea you'd do something but this is - this is incredible. You know you didn't have to honey? I'd be happy with leftovers."
"It's your birthday, Aaron. And you deserve a little more than just leftovers."
Especially after you just spent the better part of your birthday weekend saving countless lives.
Aaron presses his lips to your forehead, holding them there for a quick second before taking your hands into his larger, courser ones.
"You're the best. What did I do to deserve you?"
"I mean the chickens a tad burnt and the vegetables taste kind of plane but you know by now I'm not the best cook in the world, and I hope you like the gifts too. Jack picked them out with me so some are a bit silly but in a good way, you know? and-"
"Honey." Aarons lips curl up into a knowing smile.
"-the table cloth is still stained from when my parents came over so I flipped it over but that made it look worse-"
"Honey." Hatch finds himself repeating again, the words falling so effortlessly from his lips. You stop talking. "It's perfect, you've spoilt me."
It was obvious from the way his cheeks turned a gentle shade of pink, and how his eyes noticeably softened as he looked around the room that he wasn't used to this type of treatment. It made your heart swell.
"You deserve all of it - and a properly cooked dinner, but it seems like charred chicken will have to suffice."
He thought he smelt something burning but chose not to mention it. He always said that it's the thought that counts.
"As long as I'm eating it with you, it's perfect."
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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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irndad · 13 days
Note
just read your runner!hotch x sunshine!reader and omigosh that was soooooooooooooooo cute! I'm so happy you're happy to continue with those two in an au!
can I request one of them where hotch manages to get reader to go on a run with him? <3
“You hate me. You hate me and want me to die.”
Aaron can tell she wants to be deadpan but the gasps give it away. He’s hopelessly endeared but he sight of her, her little vest zip up that he’d gotten for her for their three mont-anniversary. He tries to be courteous like that, remembering the months. It’s not like he forgets. 
She looks adorable, her bottom lip jutting out into an involuntary pout, her expressive brows pinched into frustration. Her hair is in a claw clip, and she’s still worn the lipstick she loves in flagrant disregard of good sense. That’s my girl, he thinks to himself. 
“I’d like to think you know me well enough to know that I wouldn’t do that,” he replies, smiling. 
“There’s nothing else this could be!” she says, finally touching the bench. They’d done one lap. “You’re a sadist, Agent Hotchner. Someone should investigate you.”
It’s actually quite comical, how she leans down and holds the arm of her bench,  and catches her breath. He feels light in a way he hasn’t in a long time. There’s now ay she could know this- he hasn’t told her, likes to meet her in her lightness and sweetness when he can- but this past week has been punishing. She’s been the highlight of it, greeting him at his home with a bright smile and a book for Jack. He’d felt an immense gratefulness, for her attention and her affection. How rare is it, for someone like Aaron to be cherished like this?
“Sweetheart,” he says, warmth dripping from his tone, “I swear to you I only am looking for your health.”
She turns around to be facing him, and despite the fact he’s sure it’s not the most sensory pleasant experience, she wraps her arms around his neck. He returns in kind, wrapping her in his strong arms. It’s nice, the feeling of enveloping her. 
“You’re lucky you’re cute, Hotchner.” 
He’s very, very lucky indeed. 
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ptersparkers · 1 year
Note
So ive been reading Spencer R. x hot wife, could You do Aaron with hot wife reader too? 🔥
omg it’s so funny that you sent me this because i was talking to @hotchsdoormat about a lil idea i had before i saw this in my inbox x
***
As your husband and boss, Aaron knows you can handle yourself. That doesn’t mean he likes seeing men try to get in your pants.
The BAU is on a case in Virginia and he’s grateful he doesn’t need to travel. The lead detective introduces himself as Det. Franklin and because neither you or Aaron want to confuse the officers, you introduce yourself with your maiden name while Aaron introduces himself as Hotchner.
He regrets it on this particular case. Aaron’s not blind either. He knows men and women alike look at you because of how you carry yourself. You’re naturally charismatic, talkative, and have the ability to make all heads turn when you walk into the room.
Usually, it doesn’t affect him too much. He knows he’s lucky because you come home to him every night and sleep next to him when you’re away on cases. He’s the only one who sees and touches your body, and he’s the only person you reach for when you wake up in the morning.
He knows this, but it doesn’t stop his blood from boiling when he realizes Franklin is hitting on you.
“Y/N, he’s trying to get into your pants,” Aaron says in a hushed tone after pulling you into the interrogation room.
“Look, honey, I know. I don’t like it either but we need to focus on the case before the unsub kills again.”
“I know,” Aaron mutters. You kiss him sweetly and he seems to relent.
“When this is all over, you can have me any way you want. Screw Franklin. I know you’ll treat me right.” You squeeze his bicep and wink before leaving the interrogation room. Aaron clears his throat, needing a moment to regain his composure.
When you catch the killer, the team feels liberated and opts to spend a few hours at a local bar to celebrate. Aaron’s given the team the night off since the jet won’t be ready until the following morning and no one complains.
But Franklin doesn’t relent. Aaron watches him corner you despite your clear boundaries. He lets you be like you asked, knowing fully well you’re capable of taking care of yourself, but he can’t help himself when he hears Franklin proposition you.
“Let’s go back to my place and celebrate. I bet you’re a real slut in the sack.”
Aaron strides to where Franklin is standing and pins his back against the wall, bracing his arm on Franklin’s throat. The sound of him slamming Franklin against the wall is enough to catch the team’s attention and they look at the scene that unfolded in front of them, amused at the way their boss is over protective.
“Don’t talk about my wife like that.”
He lets Franklin go after staring at him a second too long. The detective retreats into his office, no doubt embarrassed.
Aaron’s cheeks are red and you up your hand along his bicep and give him a squeeze. The team stifles a laugh and when JJ asks if you guys are coming to get drinks with them, it’s Emily who speaks up.
“I think Mom and Dad need some alone time.” Aaron’s cheeks flare up while you wink at her.
Everyone files out of the precinct and when Aaron finds himself planted in his spot, you touch his chest and tug on his tie.
“Come on, handsome. Feel like celebrating with me tonight?”
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randomoutsiders · 1 month
Note
okay okay hear me out but being momentarily stuck as hostages with hotch!! you two are freed or you're able to escape pretty quick but there's a brief moment of you two crammed into a tiny room together or locked in cuffs against a wall but then hotch has to like take a bobby pin out of your hair with his teeth to hand it to you so that you can pick the lock on your cuffs or on the door and you just slip into this rhythm of working together and it bonds you <3 you def don't have to use exactly that plotline i just love the forced proximity of it especially when it has no dire consequences <3
hotch remains eerily calm as the unsub stalks the room, weighing his heavy gun in two hands while his eyes sweep over the room. there's limited space where you're shoved - there's a knee prodding into your thigh and a tacky face, slick with tears, against your spine. to save room you do have, you're stuck between hotch's legs, legs draped across his thighs, with his kevlar-strapped chest against your own. "you said he wouldn't kill anyone?" you hush in a nervous whisper, blinking away the tepid tears that threaten to spring to the surface.
his face furrows, the entirety of it, a worry-line sprouting above his pinched brows. "he won't." his lips press in a thin line, and you cast your eyes back on the dirty ground, wincing when the man begins to shout again. "it's not in his nature."
"i said silence!" he booms, smashing the weaponry into a shelf that wobbles on its feet, threatening its descent. "you all are gonna stay the fuck quiet until those fucked police give me what i goddamn deserve!"
the clatter of your handcuffs as you adjust your wrists adjusts his attention back to you. "never thought i'd be the ones wearing this," your attempt at a joke works, and aaron offers a pacifying smile that makes your heart rate drop a tad.
"do you wear bobby pins?" he suddenly inquires, and your eyes flash back up.
you wear a puzzled expression, but your head bobs in a nod. aaron, trying his best to keep the noisy clash of metal-on-metal down to a minimum, loops his tethered hands upward, fingers soon burrowing towards the tight ponytail at the top of your skull. you dip your head down, making the action easier, and hotch soon pulls the jagged piece of painted metal out of your hair.
you soon forget about the stray bang that may fall over your eyes, because he's prying open the two ends until he can wedge a finger between them. "here, give me your wrists."
the weepy female behind you mewls, skidding away from the approaching unsub and thus shoving you forward. you grunt, bracing your sudden movement against aaron's hard chest, and you blame the firmness of it on the vest.
his lips inadvertently smooth against your hairline, and you melt into it before aaron's forced to retract. "wrists," he clears his throat, and you jut them forward, allowing him to jimmy the bobby pin into the hole.
they click, and it obscures the sound of your petrified sniffle. "try to be quiet," he instructs in that hushed tone, and you nod, pulling your sore wrists from their holdings. "here, i can do yours," you whimper, heart thunking noisily inside your rib cage, hoping the sound of it will cover the tears that now finally make their twin tracks down your cheeks.
hotch notices, but keeps his mouth shut and his arms still, allowing you, despite your trembling hands, to free him of his shackles. "we're gonna be alright," he finally murmurs, pressing a purposeful kiss in your hair, now. "he's not going to kill anyone. we're going to be fine."
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reidsaurora · 5 months
Text
"Hot Chocolate, White Lies" ~ A. Hotchner
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Summary: Aaron might be a pain in the ass to shop for, but at least he's cute.
Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x GN!Reader (Reader does wear makeup)
Word Count: 1,444
Content Warning: mild swearing, mentions of food, i think that's it!
Extra Notes: i took creative liberties with the things featured in this fic, sue me (also sorry for the sh!tty summary, it will happen again) // icon in collage is by @catsadams
Beta Read By: @theghouligan 🫶🏻
Originally Written: 10/12/2023 through 10/19/2023
Criminal Minds masterlist can be found here!
Halloweek masterlist can be found here!
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There were many things you were unsure of, but one thing you did know was that autumn was your absolute favorite time of the whole year.
The mornings when you were both home from cases usually started slow and sweet. You'd wake up ten minutes past your alarm, Aaron's chapped lips the only thing strong enough to awaken you from your slumber. You'd press to know why he allowed you to be late, but he'd just insist, "We have nowhere important to be. Besides, you just looked so peaceful. How could I ever wake you?"
When you finally rolled out of bed, his hands would be on your waist, his lips trailing soft kisses down your neck as the two of you made your way into the kitchen. You'd start on a pan of French toast while Aaron put on the coffee, stealing quick kisses as the two of you glided around the space, each of you already anticipating the other's every move.
Then, you'd eat together in the breakfast nook, the sunlight glowing all around him, somehow making his five-o'clock shadow and bedhead seem ethereal. The conversation would flow from topic to topic as easily as water flowed downstream. But this particular day, there was one topic Aaron seemed to be actively avoiding.
It was a week from his birthday, and while he knew better than to tell you not to get him anything, he would still put his foot down about making a big deal out of the situation. If one person found out, then they'd all find out, and truly, his only wish every year was to spend his birthday with the person he loved most, not the entirety of the FBI. He'd much rather have take-out and a cheap bottle of wine in the comfort of his own home than hors d'oeuvres and expensive champagne with people he hardly knew.
Still, you'd tried all morning to get him to crack and tell you what he wanted for his birthday. But his response was always the same: "You're the only thing I need, my love."
One somewhat pointless conversation and a plate of French toast later, the two of you were headed back to the bedroom to get ready for the day ahead. He'd head into the bathroom to shave, and you'd steal glances of him as you got dressed in the bedroom. Then he'd do the same, eyeing you with absolute love and adoration as you applied layers of makeup he still insisted you didn't need, even after years of marriage.
Soon enough, you'd arrive at your favorite little bookstore and cafe. Any onlooker would immediately be able to tell just how in love Aaron was with you, sporting a matching sweater you'd clearly picked out and his hand only parting from yours to open the door, which he insisted on doing any time you went anywhere together.
"Alright, I'm setting you free," he joked, placing a soft kiss on your forehead. "Don't cause too much chaos in the romance aisle, okay?"
You giggled, leaning up to kiss him on the lips for once. "I'll only squeal if they have anything signed by my favorite author."
And with that, he was headed off to the cafe side of the building, going to collect a cup of your favorite hot chocolate. Most people preferred to drink coffee while they shopped, but to you, nothing beat curling the sleeves of your sweater around your hands and sipping a cup of hot chocolate. Even after years of coming to this place, you still hadn't figured out how they made it taste infinitely better than other hot chocolate you'd ever had.
Once you were absolutely sure Aaron was in line at the cafe, you were bee-lining in the opposite direction of the romance aisle and over to the literary fiction section.
While you'd originally told Aaron you wanted to go to the bookstore under the guise of wanting to see if they had a copy of a new release you'd been excited about, you secretly had other plans. If he wasn't going to tell you what he wanted, you'd take matters into your own hands.
You peered around one of the shelves to make sure he wasn't looking, letting out a quick sigh of relief as you spotted him reading something on his phone.
You had all of about three minutes to find a couple books that he hadn't read, which was no small feat. Nearly every second of Aaron's free time was spent devouring a novel, and while you loved that he had found a hobby he truly enjoyed, it also made it devastatingly hard to buy him new books.
In roughly two and a half minutes, you'd managed to find three books that you were sure Aaron would love. Then, you were all but sprinting over to the romance section and grabbing the first book you saw, reading the back cover nonchalantly as your husband walked up.
You were reading the back of some novel about two rival scientists falling in love when Aaron got back with two cups of hot chocolate and a sugar cookie the size of your face. "Your drink, my dear," he said, holding out one of the cups.
You took the cup from him, inhaling that first anticipated sip of the warm liquid. "Thank you."
"You found anything interesting yet?" he asked, a hand meeting the small of your back.
You shook your head, placing the scientist romance novel back on the shelf and picking up another book with a beautiful pink cover. "Nothing much. No signed copies so you'll be glad to know I won't be disturbing the other readers with my squeals."
He chuckled, a deep sound that made butterflies go off in your stomach every time you heard it. "Thank you, I'm sure it's appreciated," he kidded. He took the tote from your shoulder, immediately registering the weight of the bag. "Nothing much?" he inquired.
Before he could open the bag to look inside, you were swatting his hand and snatching it away. "It's… an encyclopedia I promised Reid I'd get for him if I saw it."
Aaron cocked an eyebrow at you. "Since when do you go shopping for Reid?" he inquired, a chuckle on the tip of his tongue.
You wracked your brain for some kind of response that sounded at least halfway truthful. "He hasn't been able to find it anywhere and he knew we liked coming here, so he asked me to check next time we came."
That skeptical brow of his only raised itself higher. "Well, there's one flaw with your story and that's that I'm a profiler and I know when you're lying to me."
Before you could form a rebuttal, he was taking the bag out of your hands again. "Aaron, don't-" you barely got out the words before he was holding up the copy of The Midnight Library.
His brows furrowed as he held up the book, examining the cover for a moment. "This isn't a romance."
You let out an exasperated breath at his examination. "That's kind of the point, Aaron."
"Well, I thought we came to find a copy of that new book you've been looking for."
You ran a hand through your hair, letting out a small huff of amusement. "I suppose I should come clean. I did lie to you."
Aaron's mouth flew open in fake shock. "No! I never would've guessed."
"Not about that," you grumbled, slapping his arm. "About why we're here in the first place. I wanted to find you something for your birthday."
His features wrinkled in embarrassment, a small sigh escaping between his lips. "Well, now I look like an ass."
You were inclined to agree, he did kind of look like an ass. But he was a cute ass and you wouldn't want him any other way. Hands flying up to his cheeks, you pulled him down for a long and soft kiss. His wrinkles of slight mortification melted away as he settled into your touch, the scents of hot chocolate and new books taking over each of your senses.
Aaron was the first to pull away, moving his kiss from your lips to your forehead, before meeting you with an expression filled with admiration. "You-"
"-'Didn't have to get me anything.' I know," you finished for him. "But these ones seem really interesting and I thought that maybe we could read them together."
His mouth curved upward into that smile of his that was so sweet, so loving, so… Aaron. "If I'm going to share a book, I'm always going to hope it's with you."
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