#i also want a hug from Aaron Hotchner
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A father and his son he takes to work every day bc he couldn’t find a daycare
#criminal minds#aaron hotchner#spencer reid#father and son#family#i literally love their father son dynamic#i also want a hug from Aaron Hotchner#Aaron Hotchner couldn’t fix my daddy issues but he’d make them feel better <3
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Hiiii sugarplum. I would absolutely adore some stripper reader x Hotch maybe like some of him comforting her or just coming to visit like outside of the case and some fluff 🥰🥰
ty for requesting!! fem
You’re texting on the wall outside of work when a shadow cuts across the streetlight illuminating your lap. Your head flinches up, phone to your chest, but the man standing in front of you isn’t one you’ve ever been scared of. “Fuck, Aaron, you scared me,” you say with a nervous laugh.
He smiles at you in his gentle, unassuming way. “Sorry. I took care to scuff my shoes as I walked.”
“Oh, you took care,” you say. Your smile is far less gentle than his; your cheeks apple, your words coloured with it. “I was in my own world.”
“I thought we talked about you coming outside alone.”
“Did we?” you ask, the short wall you’re sitting on biting into your hands and thighs as you tip back to grin at him teasingly. “Gosh, I’m sorry, Mr. Hotchner, I can’t seem to remember any such talk.”
“Mm.” He rolls his eyes. “You don’t remember that?”
“Don’t recall, no.”
“So you also won’t remember the conversation we had about flowers.”
Your first date, your only date, and your first bouquet. He’d given you flowers and read the embarrassment on your face immediately. You aren’t the kind of girl who gets flowers.
What’s wrong? he’d asked.
You’d held the flowers to your chest, something in you worried he’d take them away, though you’re almost positive he’s incapable of being cruel like that. Do I look stupid?
Of course you don’t.
There hadn’t been much else to say about the flowers, until after the evening had gone well, and he’d asked you for another date. High with the delight of knowing Spencer’s nice, handsome boss doesn’t just think you’re pretty, he likes you, you’d said Sure, if you bring me another lovely bouquet, we can go on as many dates as you like.
Aaron pulls the bouquet from behind his back. Petals bounce off of his tie, pinks and whites and baby blues against his black blazer and pristine white shirt as he taps his chest. They’re beautiful, and far too many.
“Are they really for me?” you ask. You’ve never seen such a big bouquet in your life. It’s a wonder they fit behind his back.
The strangest thing about dating him has been his sudden propensity for moments of shyness. “That depends,” he says, the slightest hint of nerves in his otherwise dulcet tone, “are they nice enough?”
“They’re the prettiest flowers I’ve ever seen.” You stand up and hold out your hands, pull them back to your chest, and then hold them back out again. You can’t not want them.
He hands them off to you.
It must be weird for him to meet you like this. He’s very high up the ladder of his career, and it doesn’t make much sense for him to fall for you. You’re younger, less educated, less prestigiously employed. You hadn’t understood what it was about you that pulled him in, but you can remember how clearly he told you he was interested in you. No shame. Not a hint of reluctance. He’s bringing you flowers outside of the stripclub, ignoring the fact that you’re in sweatpants and a tight corset-type bra, and he hasn’t looked at your body once.
“I was just texting you,” you say, opening your phone to press send on the text waiting in the hot bar.
Aaron’s phone immediately pings.
He reads it quickly. It isn’t a long message. Hi, handsome. Want to pick me up tonight?
If he’d said yes or no didn’t matter, because you’d just wanted to talk to him, and here he is.
He finally ducks in. A half side step into your reach, his face angled down, he kisses you chastely on the lips and everything fades away. The neon pink at your feet, the buzzing streetlights and the passing cars, the steady thump of music from three different buildings, it all disappears under his warm hand. He kisses you, and he hugs you to his chest, careful not to crush your flowers. You could glow from the inside out.
He’s still smiling as he pulls away. “Are you hungry?” he asks softly.
“So hungry.”
“We can get anything you want.”
“Really? What if I want the same as last time?”
It had been expensive and you’d felt vaguely underdressed. Aaron doesn’t baulk. “Anything you want… You may need to wear my jacket, though. I don’t think your current outfit adheres to their dress code.”
You push the flowers just under his nose. “Funny.”
#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner x you#aaron hotchner x y/n#aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner fic#aaron hotchner blurb#aaron hotchner drabble#aaron hotchner imagine#aaron hotchner fanfic#aaron hotchner fanfiction#hotch x reader#hotch#hotch x you#hotch blurb#hotch drabble
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Bumper to Bumper - A.H
a/n: this is so self-indulgent i am probably the worst fucking parker you've ever seen it's wild & i also just watched a vid of mgg parking someone's car and went feral so there's that
‧₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧
pairings: aaron hotchner x reader (i don't think there is any use of pronouns just nicknames like honey)
warnings: none? rough day, reader is beefing with parking, tooth-rotting fluff
wc: 800
"Hotchner," came his voice, rough like sandpaper across the line, as you fought back the swell of tears, your lower lip caught in the anxious trap of your teeth.
Your eyes fixed on the parking spot before you, the very sight of it forming a lump in your throat as your frustration mounted. The morning had unfolded like a series of unfortunate events--your coffee machine had sputtered its last, your favorite book left forgotten on the porch to be ruined by the rain, and now, this parking spot seemed to mock you, its yellow lines almost pulsating with contempt.
Your hand glided across your dampened cheek, exhaling a shaky breath as you juggled the phone between your ear and shoulder. "You know, I don't think I've said this enough, but you're an exceptional boss. Honestly, you're—"
You sensed the sigh in his breath before he spoke. "What do you need?"
"I know I'm late," you managed to get out, a small hiccup halting your sentence as you did everything in your power to avoid crying, but the waver in your voice gave you away. "But I have a good reason--"
Once more, he stopped you mid-sentence, as he often did. "Where are you? Is everything okay?"
"I'm fine, it's silly."
"If something's wrong, I want to hear it. What's happening?"
"I just... I can't seem to park my car," you choke out, cheeks aflame with mortification. "I've been trying and failing, over and over, it's embarrassing. The spot's too tight, and of course, it's the only one left because 'M late."
"Hold on, I'll be right there," he said, and the line went dead.
You were left staring at your phone, a fresh wave of embarrassment washing over you. You cringed, feeling smaller with each passing second, knowing he was swamped with work and here you were, unable to perform the simplest task of parking a car.
The moment you saw him step out of the building, your racing heart began to slow, his presence alone easing the knot of anxiety in your chest. He approached and opened the driver's door, and you were suddenly spilling over with apologies, the traces of tears still evident on your cheeks.
He looked at you with a gentleness that melted away the last of your defenses, reassuring you with a simple. "It's okay. I got it."
He took your place behind the wheel and parked the car with ease. As you stood there, you realized how his unwavering steadiness had become a pillar you leaned on more often than you'd like to admit.
As he stepped out of the car, you approached, your voice barely above a whisper, "Thank you, and I'm sorry. I know it's such a small thing..."
He gave a slight sigh, one that seemed to brush away your concerns, a hint of a smile in his eyes and said, "There's nothing to apologize for. Don't be so hard on yourself," he reminded you gently, his hand coming to rest on the soft of your shoulder.
A silent nod was all you could muster as you lifted your gaze to meet his. Your eyes were still red-rimmed from crying, and your nose, slightly pink from the number of tissues you had abused this morning. In a soft plea, you murmured, "Can I have a hug?"
Without a word, he simple open his arms, an unspoken invitation that you immediately accepted. As you nestled into his arms, your body relaxing as you inhaled his familiar scent. A soft sniffle escaped you as Hotch quietly said, "Five senses..."
You closed your eyes and focused on the sensory details--the comforting touch, his reassuring voice, the sight of his concerned gaze when you opened your eyes, the taste of the air mingled with his cologne, and the grounding scent of him. As your breathing evened out, he gently placed his hand on the pulse point at your neck, counting your heart rate in his mind.
You stepped back, a sheepish grin spreading across your face. "I suppose driving school is next on my training agenda?"
Hotch's expression softened into a subtle smile. "I'd agree, considering I just got you that car, I'd prefer it if you got the chance to enjoy it first before crashing it," he teased back lightly. "You sure you're okay?" he asked, his eyes searching yours.
"Promise."
Hotch glanced at his watch, a decision forming in his eyes. "I think I can free up some time later. How about we get you another copy of your book?"
As your smile broke through the clouds of your frustration, it was as if the sun had pierced through the overcast sky of his day, bathing him in a light he never wanted to leave. "Really?" you responded, practically glowing with delight.
Hotch's heart swelled at the sight, feeling lighter than he had in ages. Gently, he cupped your face, drawing you closer to plant a tender kiss on your forehead. "I love you, honey," he said, his voice a low rumble.
You giggled, a little surprised by the public display of affection, you blushed, responding with a shy, "Love you too."
#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner fluff#aaron hotchner#criminal minds fluff#criminal minds fic#aaron hotchner fic#hotch#hotchner#criminal mind x reader#criminal minds#thomas gibson#thomas gibson x reader#Spotify
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What about Hotch sneaking wife!reader and Jack into his hotel room during an away case and getting caught? He just wants to sleep by his love cause he can’t sleep without her since they got married 🥹
Aaron doesn't think much about forgoing an alarm when he falls asleep by your side. Their case is over, they've done all they need to, and they're just waiting on a delay at the airport that's preventing planes from taking off. There's no reason he needs to be out of bed early, and there's definitely no reason he needs to wake you and Jack up at an ungodly hour with an alarm. He's lucky enough to have gotten scheduled for a case alongside one of Jack's soccer tournaments, and for once in his life all of the pieces fall into place perfectly. He'd snuck you into his hotel room, he'd tucked Jack in on the couch, and he'd crawled right into your arms. He's going to take the opportunity given to him by the suddenly-gracious universe, bury his face in your shoulder, and sleep, no alarm necessary.
However, Aaron Hotchner should know by now, that the universe is never gracious. Not to him.
"Hotch?" JJ's voice is muffled by the door, incessant knocks beginning when there's no answer, "Hotch, the storm cleared, and planes are starting to take off again. We're schedule for an hour from now. Are you up?"
"Aaron," You hiss, suddenly filled with a panic you're not sure how to deal with, "Aaron, your- wake up!"
"Daddy?" Jack, evidently roused from the racket, rubs blearily at his left eye, "Daddy, is that Auntie JJ?"
"Is- Is that Jack? Hotch, open up." JJ tries the handle, but of course, it doesn't budge. Jack, ever the helper, takes his dad's groggy, half-awake silence and your own petrified one, as permission to help his aunt out, and almost trips on his blanket as he rushes for the door.
"Jack-" You whisper, trying to shout quietly. When he doesn't hear you, you try louder, even though it'll give you away, "Jack, no!"
"Auntie JJ!" Jack gushes, swinging the door wide open to greet her. The slim blonde is given a full, unobscured view of Aaron's bare chest pressed against your clothed one. He's awake, but barely so, and he's pushed himself off of where he'd been laying over your chest. But you're also trying to sit up, and it just pushes you together again.
JJ's eyes are wide and dancing with amusement, something you know she's going to channel directly into a gossip session with Penelope later. You suppose you understand, you'd want to share the juicy details too, but it's mortifying as she sees you now in bed with her boss.
"Well, good morning," She smirks, ruffling Jack's hair when he hugs her leg, "Uh, sir, I was just coming to let you know that we're scheduled for a flight soon, but if you're otherwise occupied, I can just tell the others you'll meet us back in Quantico?"
"Do not tell anyone anything." Aaron orders, apparently not needing much time in the morning to get his grumpiness going. He narrows his eyes at JJ, "What time do we leave?"
"10:30." None of his sternness can wipe the grin off of her face.
"We'll be gone by 10." You assure Aaron in a soft voice, too embarrassed to let JJ hear you speak.
"Perfect." She gushes, and you're even more mortified that she picked up on your soft murmurs anyways, "Well, sir, sounds like that's all set. But if you want, I can take Jack, and you two can have some alone time? I'm sure the team wouldn't mind, we can ask him all about-"
"No." Aaron snaps, but Jack's already latched onto her leg, sitting atop her foot, "Absolutely not. Jack, come back inside, please."
"Soccer." She clarifies with a knowing smirk, already backing away from the door with the little boy stuck to her, "We'll ask him all about soccer."
#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner imagine#aaron hotchner scenario#aaron hotchner oneshot#aaron hotchner one-shot#aaron hotchner one shot#aaron hotchner headcanon#aaron hotchner headcanons#aaron hotchner hc#aaron hotchner hcs#aaron hotchner fanfiction#aaron hotchner fanfic#aaron hotchner fic#aaron hotchner blurb#aaron hotchner drabble#aaron hotchner dialogue#aaron hotchner fluff#aaron hotchner x reader fanfiction
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everything has changed | aaron hotchner x reader
swiftmas ♱ heyyy.... so this is super late😬. I am now on break so hopefully the future ones will be on time💋
summary ♱ working at a daycare has its perks, a big one being a certain single dad.
warnings ♱ awkward flirting, my lack of understanding how daycares are run, ooc aaron probably cause I haven't watched this show in forever
swiftmas ♱ navigation ♱ follow my library account @baysfics to see when I post!
loud. if you had to use one word to describe your job it would be loud. you of course loved your work, but being completely overwhelmed has become a normal thing.
the end of the day was always the hardest. trying to gather all of the kids items, putting shoes on, getting through checkout, and cleaning up afterwards.
one little boy in particular however made your job a bit easier. Jack Hotchner, an adorable three year old, was polite, well behaved, and sweet. his father, aaron hotchner, was serious but seemed nice.
all you new about him was he worked a lot, and rarely was the one to pick jack up. 90% of the time it was his aunt to come pick him up.
but today was different. when your coworker said jacks parent was here for pickup you help his little winter coat on and backpack and walked with him to the front desk for checkout.
there stood arron, dressed in his usual black suit. his jet black hair was shiny and put together like always. his blank almost cold expression shifted to a much happier one when he saw jack running towards him.
the little boy hugged his father's legs in greeting, receiving a hug in return. you smile as you walk up to aaron and pass him the drawing jack made in class today.
"jack wanted to make sure u gave this to you," aaron smiles softly and takes it, looking over the two little stick figures playing in the snow, representing them.
he glances back up at you, nodding once at you, "thank you. youre jacks main teacher, correct?"
his voice sounding so clear is surprising to you. the most you heard from him was a quiet goodmorning or bye. you would see him mutter words to jack, but they were only for jack to here. the fact he talked to you at all was completely out of the norm.
you feel your cheeks heat up, suddenly realizing now that you have to speak directly to him how handsome he really is.
you smile softly and nod, "yes, I am." you realize too late how awkward you sound.
he nods, reaching out his hand to shake yours, "jack talks about you a lot. you seem to be his favorite here."
your heart swells at that, knowing jack was your favorite too. your heart also skips a beat at the feeling of shaking his hand. his skin is rough, yet his touch is gentle.
"thats so sweet. he brings you up a ton too." your hand drops back to your side and you fiddle with your jeans, suddenly feeling very flustered, a butterfly party happening in your tummy.
he smiles, a bit brighter now. he picks up his son, who is growing more and more tired by the second. he glances away before meeting your eyes again. "I uh, I appreciate all you do for my son. I work a lot out of state so, knowing my son has a good place to go is uh, comforting."
your smile widens, and you chuckle softly, "it my pleasure. he's a great kid."
you both continue to hold eye contact, your breathing calming a bit. he has kind eyes. tired ones, yes, but kind. he finally breaks the little bit of silence by clearing his throat, glancing down.
"well uh, we should be heading out. thank you again." before you can speak again he walks out, son in his arms.
even after he has disappeared from your eye site, you continue to stand and tare at where he was. you almost feel giddy, like a teenager who just met their new crush. you snap out of your daze when you realize you still need to help with checkout. you quickly get back to it, but can't help but thinking that everything has changed.
#swiftmas (fayes version)#aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner x you#aaron hotchner x y/n#aaron hotchner x female reader#aaron hotch hotchner#aaron hotch x reader#aaron hotch imagine#aaron hotch fanfiction#criminal minds#criminal minds fanfiction#bay writes🌻
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Hiii I’ve been checking your blog and I love it, can I request secret relationship with Hotch? Like, Jack reveals your secret by accident by calling reader mom or smthn like that ❤️❤️❤️
a/n: I LOVE this.
Word Count: 2k
Warnings/notes: sickness (but like fever, not actually being sick), Derek Morgan being a little shit, not proofread
<3: aaron hotchner x reader
When you’d woken up that morning to Jack coughing and sneezing his little heart out, you’d known what kind of day it was going to be.
Seeing his condition, it was obvious that he shouldn’t be going to school, and once Aaron had woken up, too, he’d agreed. However, there was work to be done in the office for both of you, and you didn’t want to risk getting Jessica’s children sick, too. The only option was to bring Jack into the office. He could sleep on Aaron’s couch for the day, and then go home to bed straight after. It wasn’t perfect, but it would have to do.
As usual, you and Aaron took separate cars to work, you parked nowhere near each other, and Aaron always waited at least five minutes after you’d exited your car to leave his. All countermeasures to keep the keen eyes of your coworkers away from the two of you and your well-hidden relationship.
It hadn’t been going on for long - just under a year - but things had moved quickly, and you basically lived with Aaron and Jack, only going back to your apartment occasionally when you and Aaron decided it would be best for him and Jack to be alone. You loved the both of them from wherever you were, staying with them was just a way to love them a little bit closer.
And, boy, was there love. Much to your surprise, Jack had called you ‘mom’ the other day by accident, which led to you going back to your apartment while he and Aaron had a conversation about Haley. You felt flattered that he’d felt so safe and loved around you that the name had been given to you, and Aaron assured you that he wasn’t upset about it.
When you’d gotten back, Jack had hugged you tightly around your neck and whispered: “My mommy is watching over me, and you do that, too. So you’re also my mom. Dad said that I could call you that if I wanted to.”
“Yeah? You want to, buddy?” You’d asked, fighting back your tears.
“Yeah! D’you want to come play?” He brushed off the issue as if it were nothing, pulling away from you and grabbing your hand instead, leading you into the living room where his toys were.
That lively boy had been replaced now by a quiet, sick one, and you tried not to be distracted by the sounds of him coughing in Aaron’s office. You had paperwork to do. You were supposed to be working. Jack had his father, and Penelope, who seemed to be making more trips to the water cooler today than she ever had before.
“God, it’s awful, isn’t it?” JJ’s words made you turn your attention to her from where you’d been staring at the door of Aaron’s office.
“Sorry?”
“Hearing children in pain. It never gets better. It’s actually worse once you have a child,” She shook her head, “I wish there was something I could do.”
“Yeah,” You said on an exhale, shuffling some of your papers to give your hands a task, “I might go and see if they need anything, actually.”
“I doubt it. Hotch probably has everything Jack could need right in there,” JJ patted your shoulder as she continued her walk past your desk, “You don’t want to risk catching whatever he has.”
You nodded, swallowing as you looked down at your computer. You had to focus. If you went in there, all of the secrecy that you and Aaron had worked for would be put under a microscope. If Jack found comfort in you, like you knew he would, if Aaron let you stay with him in his office when he’d kicked everyone else out within a couple of minutes, every separate car journey to work would be rendered useless.
Profilers were a nuisance. They saw everything, every minute shift in behaviour. They would definitely notice the signs of a relationship between you and your boss.
“You okay, pretty girl?” Morgan asked as he came up behind you, placing his hands on your tense shoulders, “You’ve been staring at your computer screen for a while.”
“Yeah. Yeah, I’m just distracted.”
He didn’t seem to buy it. Or, rather, he did, he just knew that there was a deeper reason as to why you were distracted that you weren’t mentioning. His fingers pushed into your shoulders as if he were trying to knead the secrets out of you.
“Oh, I get it,” He mumbled next to your ear and your heart rate began to pick up, “Someone’s got a new boyfriend.”
“What?” You squeaked, turning in your chair and forcing Morgan’s hands from you, “What are you talking about?”
“You’re checking your phone a lot, you’re distracted, you’re happier recently; all signs point to good sex.”
“Derek! This is a work environment.”
“You’re not denying it,” He grinned, leaning on his own desk that was right behind yours, “So you do have a guy.”
“No! No.” You squirmed under his knowing gaze, dropping your shoulders as you let out a sigh, “Okay, yes. Yes, I do. Now, will you leave me alone to do my work?”
He cheered loudly in success, but your worried glance around the space forced him to quieten down, and after he didn’t make any other noises for a few seconds, the eyes in the office that had been drawn to the two of you quickly left again.
“Just…” You turned back to your computer, “Don’t mention anything to anyone, okay?”
“Only if you answer one question: was I right? Is the sex good?”
You imagined what Derek’s reaction might be if he realised he was talking about his boss, the thought almost put a smile on your face. Instead, you glared at him over your shoulder, and he raised a challenging eyebrow at you.
“Hey, baby girl-” He shouted across the office while holding eye contact with you.
“No! Okay fine,” You leaned closer to him, speaking in a hushed whisper, “The answer to your question is yes.”
His shit-eating grin only grew wider at your answer, and when Penelope approached the two of you, Derek made an excuse of asking her out to lunch, and the two of them left the office together. You could finally relax.
Until the sound of Jack’s coughing punctured through the air again.
As much as Derek annoyed you (much like an older sibling), he was brilliant at distracting you from everything going on in your life. And even though you were sure that he was telling Penelope your secret at that very moment, you couldn’t help but be a little bit grateful that you’d managed to tear your mind away from the child in Aaron’s office.
It was scary to think about what could happen if the people in your office found out about you and Aaron. As a woman, it was undoubted that you would get at least one comment about sleeping your way to the top, and even though HR knew about your relationship in order to keep professionalism, you couldn’t imagine the kinds of issues that might arise with other agents if they all knew about your relationship. People could be made uncomfortable, or accuse Aaron of preferential treatment; your jobs could be on the line.
But, then again, it would relieve a huge weight off your shoulders. You wouldn’t have to worry about taking separate cars, waiting in the parking lot, or having to stay away from the person who brought you the most comfort when you were really in need of a hug.
No. No, you couldn’t be public about your relationship until either one of you didn’t work at the BAU anymore, which you were sure wouldn’t be happening any time soon.
The door to Aaron’s office opened, and Jack appeared, holding Aaron’s hand and a blanket that he hadn’t let go of since he’d left the house. You tried to seem unfazed, glueing your eyes to your paperwork, but your heart beamed out of your chest when Jack pulled Aaron to a stop right beside your desk.
“Hey, you feeling okay, buddy?” You asked, keeping your voice gentle. The burn of about a dozen pairs of eyes suddenly became apparent.
Which was why, when Jack held his arms up to be brought up into your lap, loudly exclaiming ‘Mommy!’ as you hesitantly pulled him up, you knew there was no way you could hide. Even if he hadn’t said anything, the way he melted into you, wrapping his arms around you and burying his face in your neck, was probably a dead giveaway.
“Oh, sweetheart,” You cooed as you rubbed his back, looking up at Aaron, who was shielding you somewhat with his body as he leaned against your desk, watching you with a hint of a smile, “It’s okay, baby. You’ll feel all better soon, I promise.”
“How soon is soon?” Jack groaned into your skin, and you kissed his hot cheek.
“Really, really soon, buddy, okay?”
You continued rubbing his back as the people around you pretended to continue on with their tasks. Aaron rolled Derek’s desk chair from behind his desk and pulled it up next to you and Jack, lips stretching into a thin line.
“He was upset, asking for you. I thought I’d rather he be happy than us protect ourselves,” He explained in a low voice, “I probably should have asked.”
“It’s alright,” You assured him, “I’m glad you brought him out, it’s been killing me all day. What are we going to tell everyone?”
“I’ll tell them to mind their own business,” He placed a hand on your knee, away from the view of everyone else, “We did everything right, telling HR but keeping it a secret from the team. It can be a sort of… relief that we don’t have to sneak around anymore.”
“Yeah, you’re right. We should get him back to your office,” Jack had fallen asleep against you, so you stood up carefully, keeping his head still with one hand cradling it, “Morgan will be back soon, and we should probably figure out a strategy to best tell him-”
“Oh!” Came a shout across the office as you and Aaron were halfway up the stairs. You squeezed your eyes shut, not believing in your bad luck, and Aaron turned around to look at Morgan, “Hotch is the secret boyfriend?”
“Watch your volume, Morgan,” Aaron warned, “As much as it may not seem like it, you’re still at work.” The ‘And don’t you dare wake up my son’ was implied, but Jack did nothing more than wiggle around in your arms at the loud noises.
“Oh, man,” Derek grinned as you and Aaron continued to walk up the stairs to his office, “I know something about you, Hotch.”
His taunts were blocked out by Aaron opening his office door for you and closing it behind himself, twisting the lock and pulling the blinds as you set Jack down on his sofa and tucked his blanket around him.
“What is he talking about?” Aaron asked once you’d stood up, hands coming to rest on your waist in a way they never had while you two were at work.
You relished in his touch, morphing it into a hug as you wound your arms over his shoulders. At home, he was always touching you, always somewhere close, but it was different - new - in his office, where the only things exchanged between the two of you were longing looks and papers.
“Nothing you need to worry about.”
#aaron hotch fanfiction#aaron hotchner imagine#aaron hotchner#aaron hotch hotchner#aaron hotchner x reader#criminal minds imagine#criminal minds fic#criminal minds
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With Neighbors Like These
Summary: Jack goes away for the weekend and Aaron and Reader can finally have some alone time (inspired by this concept)
Pairing: post season 12 Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader
Category: smut (NSFW, 18+, MDNI)
TW/CW: kissing, mutual masturbation, moderate dirty talk, penetrative sex, protected sex, established relationship, unspecified age gap, Hotch dealing with parenting issues, Jack is mentioned but not present
Word Count: 2k
The house was unusually quiet as you walked in, leaving your shoes at the entrance to proceed barefoot towards the small office Aaron had arranged for himself with a few retouches to the spare room in the back.
Despite having a key in case of emergencies and whatnot, like a very good neighbor, it was a common decision you’d only use it on specific occasions and mostly when Jack wasn’t around. A single soccer cleat lay abandoned in a corner in the living room; were it to happen on a regular day you knew the mere sight of it would have sparked a fierce argument, but this morning was different.
The evening before a very concerned father had driven his fourteen-year-old son to the arranged meeting point, camping gear in tow, and Jack was now enjoying a two nights excursion somewhere in the local woods. You had a feeling that, conversely, Aaron wasn’t getting a kick out of the child-free weekend - confirmed by his rapid typing on the keyboard when you knocked on the wooden frame of the French door to catch his attention.
He looked at you and cracked a smile, still too focused on what he was doing. “It won’t take too long. I promise.”
You dropped your purse under his chair and hugged him from behind, the scent of his aftershave filling your nose with pure delight.
“Feeling lonely, already?”
“Why?!” he enquired. “I didn’t have to shout five times to turn off that damn videogame, last night… and nobody guzzled down half a gallon of milk directly from the bottle, at breakfast!”
“You’re also worried, I can tell,” you added and he shrugged, defeated, then went back to focusing on the screen.
He’d been working part-time as an FBI consultant for a law firm for about a year and you had never seen him putting his job before his kid: he was an active member of the PTA and even volunteered to chaperone whenever he could (something that many moms and other dads found incredibly hot, without a doubt). If he was working on a Saturday he was a hundred percent desperate for a distraction.
Your palms brushed over his shoulders and a delicate touch soon turned into a proper massage, kneading his muscles through the polo shirt he was wearing.
“Relax. You’re too tense,” you mumbled. He had only shared a few unpleasant details about his life as a member of the Behavioral Analysis Unit in D.C. before he and Jack moved into the neighborhood; nevertheless, it didn’t take a genius to figure out his former employment as an FBI agent had taken a huge toll on both of them.
“I’m not sure I should have signed that consent form,” he confessed.
“His entire class is with him and his teachers all have cell phones, nothing’s going to happen. Save for a few mosquito bites,” you replied. “And don’t get me wrong... but aren’t you being just a bit overprotective?!”
“Jack told me the same thing when I said I wanted to think about it. Except, he didn’t phrase it so nicely,” Aaron grinned and shook his head while he rose to his feet. “Sorry, enough with the family issues,” he apologized, “it’s a lovely Saturday morning. Have you got any interesting plans?”
“I have. And they don’t involve homework,” you declared, and as you pushed his laptop to the opposite side of the desk he locked an arm around your waist, his expression reverting to a serious one.
“... so you’re a bad influence.”
The intimidating attitude he could pull off with a single stare never failed to make your legs turn into jelly.
You lowered your voice to a purr. “You don’t even kn—”
His soft lips pressed onto yours stopped you mid-sentence. The fact he had a teenage son registered in your mind only as a foggy thought and the power he’d had on you since the instant you saw him jogging around the block was almost inexplicable.
“You’re right, no more homework. How about I take you out for lunch?” he proposed and the warmth of his breath on your skin ignited a fire you weren’t at all convinced you could control. Or would.
You hugged him tight, your bodies finally making contact. “How about we take care of something else, first?”
Aaron’s attitude towards romantic relationships exuded manners and consideration, the portrait of a gentleman from a different era, so the response to your suggestion came as a surprise: he’d always shown a preference for the intimacy of his bedroom, even though his palms stroking over your breasts to make your nipples grow stiff and visible through the fabric was the perfect sign he had no intention of wasting any time to move the action upstairs.
Your tongues lustfully met in a second kiss, prompting you to let out an excited sigh as you blindly undid and removed his belt before letting it fall on the floor with a loud clunk. You reached for his zipper and he sighed in return but gasped a second later when you gave him a light push that forced him to sit down again.
“Show me how you do it when we’re not together.”
Aaron’s eyes widened - confusion and stupor at the beginning, then the sheer thrill of the idea lit up his gaze. And made him hard entirely.
He sank into the cushion behind his back to finish unzipping his pants and pulling them down his hips so that his swollen erection was only contained by a thin layer of underwear.
“You’re just going to watch?” he asked, locking eyes with you. You could have sworn that look alone increased the temperature in the room by a couple of degrees. “Doesn’t seem fair.”
You reached under the flowy dress to roll your panties along your thighs, letting them crumple around your ankles; you sat on the desk and lifted the skirt up to your waist, your feet resting on Aaron’s parted knees.
“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”
He swallowed nervously but didn’t miss a movement of your fingers starting to draw circles around your most sensitive spot, guided by the aching tension in your belly; your mouth watered at the sight of his cock whipping free and he noticed, so he took his time to wrap his right hand around it.
You knew how to work his length, moving up and down in slow and long strokes as foreplay, nevertheless witnessing such a handsome man masturbating for you proved to be one of the most lascivious experiences of your life.
“I always think about you when I touch myself…” you confessed, and he held on to your ankle with his free hand while you rubbed your clit.
“Are you trying to make me lose control?”
You nodded in confirmation and he growled.
He was now coating his shaft and palm with the leaking precum, using only his index and middle finger to collect some of the slickness and spread it over the bulging head, the exposed glans glistening in the process. That was when he usually begged you to move faster, since his delicate skin was lubricated enough and increased friction meant pleasure - not pain.
“I’m really wet for you,” you teased him, your own desire pooling at your core, but his reaction threw you off balance.
“Stop, please… stop,” he whimpered, “this is not…”
His ragged breath made it difficult for him to articulate his words. “I need you.”
You gestured at the purse that was still under his chair and he handed it to you; sharing the house with a teenager meant Aaron had grown accustomed to some of his clean t-shirts randomly disappearing from his drawers and wardrobe, so you both knew nothing out of the ordinary could be hidden among his personal stuff.
He stared at you, entranced, as you retrieved the small box you’d carried with you and tore one of the foil packages open.
“A little closer, maybe…?” you joked, and when he stood up you bit your lower lip in anticipation. He kissed you lightly on your forehead as you unrolled the latex down his hardness, then you pinched his chin and smiled at him.
“Better?!”
He whined again. “Not exactly.”
You grabbed him by the nape of his neck, speaking softly to his ear. “Make me come. I can’t wait anymore.”
The uninhibited request seemed to have flipped a switch in him: the sound of a pencil holder spilling its content made you laugh as Aaron enthusiastically raised your legs in the air and held them to his chest, so he could start rubbing the tip of his cock up and down your folds.
It was torture but he was damn good at it.
When he managed to get himself covered in your arousal he slipped the bulbous head past your entrance. “It’s so big…” you muttered.
Truth be told he wasn’t that well-endowed and you had nothing against it, since you’d never been keen on painful sex, still you welcomed him with a loud moan once he buried himself inside of you. Even a gentleman from another era didn’t mind a bit of flattering and appreciation of his manhood.
He wasn’t as vocal, though, but his deep groans reverberated in his throat in a manifestation of primal, untamed passion; he looked so solemn it drove you insane, his brows furrowed and tiny droplets of sweat trapped between his short hair, almost as if he was directing all of his energies into screwing your brains out.
When his thrusts grew slower but more intense you wriggled your legs free and locked them around his waist: with a last, fierce grunt he twitched several times and you closed your eyes to enjoy the moment, which was always the biggest turn-on for you.
With your eyes still closed you welcomed the pressure on your lips, a not-so-subtle invitation to take his index and middle finger in your mouth; you sucked on them alternately, happy to oblige, tasting traces of the salty precum. You clawed at his forearm when he brought the wet digits to your clit, rubbing and drawing circles just like you’d shown him before.
“Aaron… I’m…” you mewled, grabbing a fistful of his hair as you - indeed - came with his throbbing cock still inside you, lungs pleading for air and inner muscles clenching around him.
He collapsed on top of you, the additional weight making you realize how harsh the desk’s smooth surface was on your back, yet you cupped his face and stroked his flustered cheeks with your thumbs.
“I missed you so much,” you breathed out as soon as you were able to.
He pulled out and started to fix his clothes, and before he got rid of the condom he planted the sweetest kiss on your lips. “I’m sorry about the other weekend. Jack wasn’t supposed to play, last minute change of plans—”
“Don’t be sorry, I know you love going to his games,” you said, propping up on one elbow to straighten yourself as he stood in front of you. “Besides, you wouldn’t want to disappoint your biggest fans, would you?”
He was still heaving a little and looked at you with a pensive pout. “... what?!”
“I mean, you’ve seriously never noticed…?” you locked your hands behind his neck as you tried to come up with a good imitation of the cooing voice of the soccer moms who you knew swarmed the sidelines every time he was present.
“Aaron, can you help us move the coolers? Aaron, we need to rearrange those chairs! Aaron, come here and have some cake! We made it for you ‘cause you’re such a good dad and it’s soooooo hot!”
He laughed, the vibrations in his ribcage making your breasts jiggle, then he gave you his best smile to date. “You’re jealous?!”
You shrugged, holding him closer. “No. To be honest I don’t even blame them, you are a good dad. Which is very hot, by the way.”
“Thank you,” he laughed again as he wrapped you in his arms to kiss you one more time, forcing you to close your eyes and get lost in his tender embrace. You muffled a surprised gasp when he playfully nipped at your earlobe with another heart-stopping smile.
“But just to be clear…” he added, his voice dropping to a whisper, “it’s usually cookies, not cake!”
@hornyhornyhimbos
NB: I don't really have an Aaron Hotchner fic taglist 'cause I usually write about Spencer Reid but if you wish to be tagged in future Hotch-centric works (SFW or not, who knows?) you can either send me an ask or leave a comment below.
#aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner fanfic#aaron hotchner fic#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner x fem!reader#aaron hotchner smut#post season 12 aaron hotchner#criminalminds#criminalminds fanfic#criminalminds fic#criminalminds smut#smut#mdni#minors do not interact#not beta read#my gifs#hotch is a dilf#also i hate the title but who cares we're here for the smut#milla writes n*s*f*w*#or rather... milla doesn't know why she's writing hotch stuff#i have a strong suspect someone is brainwashing me with all that talk about him#not naming names you know who you are
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and this love came back to me
Aaron Hotchner x (former) bau!reader
Summary: A friend's death brings you back to the loving arms of the BAU family. And like a high tide, it also brought back old feelings that Aaron finds difficult to control.
Warning: fluff! cursing, mentions of death, divorce, miscarriage (tell me if I forgot something)
A/N: this can be read as a stand alone but is a part 2 for you're too sweet for me. it's loosely inspired by This Love (Taylor's Version)
— ✦ — ✦ ✦ — ✦ ✦ ✦
The sight of you is like a dream.
Aaron thinks it might've been the haze of loss and woe that was making him see things, but it isn't. His breath hitched audibly. The sound causes David and Spencer to turn to Aaron, following his line of sight to where you stand at the front door.
As your eyes roam in the crowd of people clad in black, Aaron is the first you see. Your eyes are rimming with red heat and overflowing with tears. Your feet race to Aaron, snatching him into a tight hug like the calvary was out to get you, and he is your only lifeline. "Hotch..." Your voice cracks upon his name as you bury your face on his chest, soaking the fabric of his dress shirt like it hadn't been more than a decade since you saw him last.
Shock fills Aaron's chest, but his hands still remember your frame in his arms so well they wrap themselves around your waist like second nature. Lavender and chamomile. You smell just as he remembers. A mixture of solace and gaiety. Your sniffles sound the same. So distinct that his ears itch.
His mind questions whether seventeen years of his life were all a dream and he'd just woken up. Your embrace feels like a day has never gone by, and you two are young and stupid again. Okay, maybe not stupid. You were never stupid. Not a day in your life were you ever stupid. Aaron insists on the thought.
Right then, Aaron decides that you are real because no one else in his life has ever grabbed him into a bone-crushing hug the way you do. Arms wrapped around his neck like vines. Toes pointed at the earth so you could reach his insane height. He can only think of one other person who'd do that: Jack. But the boy could barely wrap his arms around Aaron's legs at the moment, so it was definitely you.
He closes his eyes, and tears quickly trickle down his face like he's been holding it in. He was. He is under the impression that with all the tearful sobs his team has wept, he should at least swallow his. As usual, he wanted to be a strong foundation for the others. A shoulder they can cry on. So, Aaron forbade himself to cry. At least not in front of everyone.
But then your hold is so tight the heartache finally explodes. You roll in with the reminder that he is permitted to cry, too. To feel the sorrow. To crumble like everyone else in the room.
"I came as soon as I heard," You muffle in his shirt, pulling away to wipe your bottomless tears with the back of your hand.
It takes all of Aaron not to hold you back when your body leaves his cold and empty. Your peripheral had caught David's familiar figure, prompting an automatic brain response to capture him into a hug.
Aaron watches as you exit out of David's embrace, forty-five seconds shorter than his. He doesn't let himself think too hard of it. Afraid that he is to get his hopes up for nothing.
David pats your back, "Glad to see you, kid."
There it is.
Your smile.
A smile so bright it blurs out your chapped lips and runny makeup, "I missed you."
Aaron swears he would've fainted if you'd said that to the Aaron Hotchner from seventeen years ago. The one who can't even pluck up the courage to tell you his feelings. As if he's got the prowess to do it now. As if he hasn't been feeling like a schoolgirl, giddy with any kind of affection you offer him in the past three minutes.
For a moment, Aaron let himself indulge in the delusion that you came for him and only him. His bubble burst into a sharp pop in an instant, though. Because then your eyes shift away from him, "I missed everyone." You reiterate with much clearer keywords.
A tug aches Aaron's chest. How can he forget? You are kind to everyone. You are a safe space for everyone. A light for everyone. So, as special as your embrace was for him, it was a normal thing for you.
Then the realization hits him. He was at a funeral, for Pete's sake. He beats himself up mentally. For letting his unrequited feelings for you go rogue like wild animals, hysterical.
Focus, Aaron. He scolds himself.
Your effect on him is still as rabid as ever. He hates it a bit. Blames your perfection in his eyes. Blames himself for still harboring feelings that should've withered years ago. How the love glowed in the darkest depths of his chest as soon as you'd said his name. How a glimpse of you revived every piece of shattered heart. How the high tide of your arrival brought in waves and waves of his feelings back. He claims you are being unfair. Considering the fact that you are oblivious and at no fault.
A cough cuts the reunion short.
Aaron's thoughts dissipate like a fog blown by a violent wind. He mentally thanks the person for bringing him back to reality.
The three of you turn to Derek Morgan. You don't know the man, but you offer him a soft smile—one with your lips closed but curvy enough to be friendly or display an apology—in hopes that he doesn't form the wrong impression of you.
Other faces come into view. Now you wonder who they might be and what special place they hold in Jason Gideon's loving memory. Was he a mentor, a boss, a friend, or a family? Because your senses have never let you down, feeling the capacity of their mourning through their sullen faces and glossy eyes.
Then again, it has been years since you stepped foot on American soil. You aren't sure how many people Jason Gideon made acquaintance with. Maybe you were smiling too widely that it offended people. It's his funeral after all.
Aaron doesn't let your thoughts wander too far, clearing his throat. As if he sensed your insecurities rattle in the pit of your stomach. If you were flushed by it, your puffy face hid it well. He stands between you and the group of people who watched him in detail.
"Everyone, I'd like you to meet an important vessel of the behavioral analysis unit..." Aaron introduces you with great renown. He says your first name with an undertone the team picks up but doesn't mention. "We worked on many cases together when the unit was too small to focus on one case at a time." He turns his entire body to face you. A hand makes its way to the lower of your back as if to tell you that the strangers are safe enough to be in close proximity with. "These are agents Derek Morgan, Jennifer Jareau, Kate Callahan, Dr. Spencer Reid, and tech analyst Penelope Garcia. The A team." He beams with pride like he'd just shown you his golden medals.
Your jaw drops, hands landing over your chest as a soft gasp escapes you. You look between Aaron and David to confirm, earning two series of nods. "This is the team? Like a team, team?" You can't help but tear up from the utter joy that rushed through your veins.
The said team found you overdramatic. They exchange looks between them. A silent conversation, judging whether they should let their eccentric impression of you stick or give you another chance to redeem yourself. They guessed that the death of a friend may have contributed to your screwy image.
Still, a woman with a kind smile and breathtaking beauty doesn't hesitate to approach you. "You can call me JJ," She starts and offers her hand. You shake it firmly like she's about to interview you for a job. "I used to work with Gideon as a liaison. I never imagined that I'd be one of the profilers who'd solve his case." An awkward smile laces atop her lips, also shock with the randomness of her last words.
Wonderment masked your face. The fact you were supposedly at a funeral was forgotten momentarily. You glance at David with twinkling eyes. "A liaison?" You squeal in a whisper.
"Wait until Penelope Garcia shakes your hand," David whispers back as he leans close to you.
You follow his subtle gaze at the other blonde woman across. Technical Analyst. You remind yourself. An amused scoff bounces off your throat.
Aaron chuckles and hands you a square cloth, "A lot has changed since you left. We have a floor to ourselves now." He is unaware of the team's watchful eyes, taking notes of his every motion next to you.
"Oh, I'm sorry," You take his handkerchief and blot your weepy face. "I must look crazy." A bright giggle roars out of you. "It's just... There were only four of us as a unit, and we had to share our workspace with other units. Cases took a lot more time to solve back in the day."
"How long?" Penelope curiously asks, as if it is the most important detail she has yet to hear. She is a sunshine. It takes one to know one. You swear she's glowing despite the dry mascara stain on her face from all the tears early on the day.
"Too long," You shake your head, trailing off as your face flashes a dreadful expression. "I'm just glad all of you were there to solve Jason's case. I really wanted to help, but I had important matters to take care of." You vaguely share. Your mind quickly shoves the thoughts that you deem irrelevant to the moment.
"You knew Gideon?" The tall boy with unruly hair asks with sorrowful eyes. Dr. Spencer Reid. He had a frown on his face.
"You're not the first genius Jason picked up," David quips, causing a chuckle to most except the young doctor.
Spencer throws his gaze somewhere else. He has been impacted by Jason's death more than anyone else on the team. The tear stains on his face had yet to fade. So, joking about Jason still made his heart ache.
You glance at Aaron, asking him all the questions in your head without letting it slip out of your mouth. Your connection never broke. He could hear your questions loud and clear just by meeting your eyes, and it felt euphoric. Still, he concentrates on your airy curiosity, nodding once.
Just like that, your attention drew to Spencer, "He used to beat me in chess." You state at random, making the group quiet.
Spencer offers you a tight-lipped, wistful smile, "Me too."
You walk closer to him with a soft smile and a "has he ever given you tickets?" The two of you took off to another part of the room, chatting, cheering him up just a bit.
Somehow, the small interaction between you and Spencer made Aaron explode in happiness. He doesn't know why exactly, but it felt fatherly. He wasn't too far older than Spencer, but he'd watched him grow into a great profiler. He knew Spencer like the back of his hand, even if bits of Spencer's life were swept under his palm. So, he knew that it wasn't easy for Spencer to be generously welcoming, especially when someone important to his life just died. And when you knew exactly what to say, understood what Aaron's nod meant, it made his heart swollen. You bonded with Spencer in mere seconds as if you were the one to give him life. Aaron adored it. He couldn't explain the reason, but he hoped that Spencer could find refuge with you.
The day wheels into the night. Fewer and fewer people scatter around Stephen Gideon's residence. You find yourself standing by the terrace with David and Aaron, reminiscing the old days, coddling a glass of whiskey.
Aaron is stunned by your choice of alcohol. He remembers you preferring a much sweeter drink.
"I've always liked whiskey," You correct him gently. A laugh forced its way out against the neat liquid sliding down your throat.
"That sounds wrong," Aaron chuckles, "I swear you even hated it with a passion."
You give him a weird look with a subtle grin, "You must be thinking of someone else because Jason and I like the same exact brand of whiskey. You're getting old, Hotchner." You tease, hiding the butterflies in your stomach.
Aaron's eyes widen as he points an accusatory finger at you, "Jason introduced me to whiskey! You're definitely lying!"
"Well, duh!" You roll your eyes, "It's Jason. He's practically our father." You state, straightening your back as you lean against the railing. The wind whips across your face.
"So, what? I was just a fly on the wall? I'm starting to regret calling you back home." David interjects, spreading his arms as he furrows his brows. He caters to his own glass in the comfort of a chair.
"You're mother bird. Everybody knows that," You grin. The urge to cry has finally stopped. Though, you suspect it was the jet lag and hunger from the ghastly flight.
The three of you fell into fits of laughter. Well, just you. Aaron and David only had wide grins on their faces. After all these years, they still refused to laugh loudly. You didn't mind it, though. Because you felt at home.
Aaron nudges your shoulder, "How'd you get here so fast? If I'm not mistaken, the flight from Paris to Virginia is at least nine hours long." He tries to sound casual, like he hadn't looked up the distance long ago and that, for some reason, he kept the knowledge tucked in one of the wrinkles in his brain.
A smug grin made its way to your face, "Does the BAU have a jet?" You brag, sipping your glass empty as you raise your chin with pride.
"You'd be surprised," David takes the liberty to respond, shaking his head while his brows raise in disbelief. A ring brings his attention to his phone on the table but continues to finish his thoughts out loud. "The team's filled with young people now, and suddenly, I'm ancient history. Hold on, you two. I need to take this." And he slips back inside the house to find a quieter space.
You and Aaron exchange looks.
A smile slowly lifted the ends of his lips. It was a handsome sight.
It felt like time had stopped.
You break from his gaze, "So? How's everything? How long has it been? Like, thirteen—"
"Seventeen," Aaron cuts you off, nonchalantly drowning his throat with liquor.
You blink, "That long?" He nods at the air. "Damn, Hotch. You're making me feel old." You nudge his side, though you barely caused any impact. Your brows are drawn as if you aren't certain whether to take it lightly or feel slightly offended.
He rolls his eyes. Had his team know how much of his expressive side had the habit of showing every time he was with you, they'd start a riot.
"You didn't age a day. You still look young." You still look beautiful.
"Flattery won't get you access to the French database, Hotch. You know that." You kid, playing with the ice cubes in your glass. The clinking sound makes you smile. You convince yourself it was the reason, at least.
"You caught me," Aaron says in a sarcastic tone. He lets the silence sink in for a moment, spoiling himself with your presence for a brief moment. Just for a second, he wants to keep the moment to himself. Just the two of you. Just you and him.
And when he felt satisfied enough, he brought his life into the mix, "I got married." He almost jumps from his spot at the sudden snap of your neck. You beam with excitement, encouraging him to say more. "Haley... she was a great woman, person. We have a son, Jack. He's nine years old."
You looked like a child listening to a fairytale. You pat his shoulder, "Hotch, that's so amazing! Are they here? Did you bring them with you?" You glance inside the sliding glass door, scanning the crowd.
He should've continued talking. "W-we... We got divorced, and... she died," Aaron's voice got lower with each syllable, completely soundless by the end of his sentence. He doesn't know why he feels shame. It has been years, and even if it still makes him sad sometimes, Aaron takes pride in the fact that Haley sacrificed her life.
"What?" The excitement plummets off your chest.
Aaron takes a big gulp. You'd missed so much it became difficult to tell you more. "She died. Five years ago." He clears his throat, "But I'm okay now. Jack and I are doing well on our own."
Your expression softens, and a hand unconsciously sits atop his hand, "I'm so sorry, Hotch." You squeeze his hand. Part of you felt guilty for feeling excited, for getting ahead of yourself like usual. You fear that your enthusiasm may have caused Aaron triple the heartache he is already feeling.
"It's a long time ago. I'm really fine. Jack's growing up like a spitting image of her. He's an amazing kid." He doesn't want to bring the mood down. He's honest when he says that he feels fine. "Enough about me. How about you? Do you have anyone waiting in France? Any kids?" If he can recall, you always told him how badly you wanted to have a family.
You lick your lower lip into a thin purse. You gaze at the evening view of the backyard with a heavy sigh, loosening your shoulders, "I was going to..." Aaron's brows scrunched at the way you phrased your response, but he didn't say anything. "Before I became the chief, I was part of the undercover agents. Days before my new assignment, I found out that I was pregnant. Louis wanted me to take a break from work, but I insisted that I work. The day I learned I was going to have a boy, I got caught in a crossfire. I tried to fight for him, but it was either me or him." You release a heavy sigh, "The doctors chose me. They chose wrong... Louis blamed me for losing our baby. I still do, too. We had a hard time bouncing back up after that. We just finalized our divorce yesterday." You smile weakly at Aaron, masking the hurt that pierced every inch of your heart. You quickly swipe the single drop of tear that managed to trail down your cheek.
Aaron glances at your intertwined hands. He feels guilty for liking it despite the dense atmosphere of your conversation. So, he lets go of it to snake an arm around your shoulders, giving you a tight side hug. "Don't say that, sweetheart..." The endearment rolls off his tongue like butter. He doesn't dwell on it, eager to lessen your pain. "I'm certain that he's glad you lived. He wouldn't have liked the world if he never got the chance to be raised by you." He starts to imagine how awful Louis looks and how much Aaron would make him look worse. He's barely known the guy, but he despises how horrible he's treated you at the time you needed a loving husband the most.
The next thirty minutes became quiet, and Aaron thought that maybe catching up wasn't such a great idea. He should've known that your lives weren't exactly on the greener side.
Then he wonders what life would've been if you hadn't left. He shakes his head. Despite the unrequited love he had for you, he still loved Haley with all his heart and would never change anything if it meant Jack being born. He assumes you'd think the same.
"I sometimes wish I came back here, you know." You blurt out as if you are reading straight from his mind like a book, breaking the silence. "I missed out on so much. Your wedding. You becoming a father. David's other weddings... Jason. I wish I was here for everything." You lean your head against him, letting his warmth spread on your skin. "I don't regret going to France or anything that happened in my life, but I wish I could've been in both places at the same time."
Aaron nods, "Yeah, it would've been nice to have you here." He thinks otherwise because he wishes you stayed. He hoped that despite his cowardness, he'd got you around the block and not a continent away.
He takes it up to himself to change the topic into a lighter tone.
He starts talking about Jack and the satisfying struggles of fatherhood. He shows you videos and photos from his phone. You are engaged in a heartbeat, laughing at the littlest humor he'd throw in. You adored his son. That made Aaron beam with pride. Granted, a lot of people have told him the same thing, but coming from you, it was like he'd received an accolade.
Somewhere in the evening, Stephen steals you from Aaron's company. You're easily filled with joy at the sight of an old friend, ignoring the fact that Jason's son used to have a childish crush on you. Other old acquaintances got a hold of you, too.
Aaron never got to see you again for the rest of the evening.
— ✦ — ✦ ✦ — ✦ ✦ ✦
It has been eleven months since Aaron last saw you when his peripheral caught your figure as soon as he stepped inside David's home.
"She's with the team," David announces casually.
Aaron's brows knit together as he brings his gaze back to David, "What's that?"
"I said she's with the team," David repeats, glancing down the hallway. "You better catch her before she leaves. I got lucky when I called her. She's about to take her flight back to France. This is why I set an arrival time—" Before he could finish his last sentence, Aaron was already halfway down.
Jack Hotchner watches as his father speedwalks inside David's house, "Is Dad okay?" He looks up at David with worried eyes.
"He's alright," David pats Jack's head. "See, kiddo. Your dad used to have a crush on someone before he married your mom."
"Is she pretty? Is she nice?" Jack queries.
David smiles, "How about you decide yourself?" He guides the young Hotchner toward the center of the celebration.
Meanwhile, you are in the middle of wishing Dr. Tara Lewis good luck for her new place in the BAU when Aaron calls your name. You pivot on your heels. A smile instantly brightens your face at the sight of Aaron, "Hotch!" You exclaim, engulfing him in a hug.
"You should've told me you were in the area." Aaron's grin is brighter than yours.
Unbeknownst to him, a couple of watchful profilers keep their eyes peeled at you and Aaron.
"Are they?" Tara trails off next to Penelope.
"They worked on many cases together," Penelope replies suggestively, wiggling her brows as she sips from her swirly straws.
JJ grins at the conversation, "He's like an entirely different person with her. Think of Spencer." She hides a grin behind her glass of wine.
Spencer furrows his brows as he looks at JJ. "Should I be offended?" He clutches the mug of eggnog close to his chest.
"No," JJ shakes her head defensively, elongating the last letter. The others erupt into silent chuckles.
Derek nudges Penelope while he's got an arm wrapped around Savannah, nodding towards you and Aaron's direction, "Look. Hotch is about to introduce Jack to her. How much are you betting he's trying to get Jack's approval? Will Jack even like her? She looked crazy at first—Ow!" He rubs the side Savannah just elbowed, wincing.
Jack shyly stands in front of his father as he looks up at you. You had no doubt he looked a lot like his mother now that you'd meet him in person. You don't forget about Aaron, though, because they had matching eyebrows that narrow every time they attempt to read someone intently.
You squat down to Jack's height, "Nice to meet you, Jack. Your dad has told me a lot of great things about you!" You rummage into your bag, fishing out a huge peppermint lollipop disk. "I didn't expect to meet you today, so I wasn't prepared to bring a gift you'd like, but you can have this if you want it."
Jack glances at his dad from behind him and then back to you. A wide smile spreads across his face as he takes the sweet from you, "I like this one, too! Thank you!" You almost stumble down when he launches to hug you.
"You're welcome!" Your giggle echoes in the entire house. You hadn't expected him to attack you with a hug, let alone a stranger you'd identify yourself as.
Aaron couldn't help but feel overjoyed. He doesn't know how to keep his heart from beating faster as you glance at him with a tooth-rottenly sweet smile while hugging his son.
You really were unfair to him.
He's hopeless. A lost cause. He should've known from years ago. Should've known that you'd leave a permanent mark on him.
"Dad," Jack gestures for Aaron to get down. He leans close as soon as his father oblige to his command, covering his mouth.
Aaron's eyes subtly widen. His ears burn into a beet-red blush. He clears his throat, "How about you say hi to the others? Play with Henry and Reid, okay?" He dismisses, ignoring the innocent words that rang in his ears. He gently pushes Jack toward the team's direction.
"He's such a sweetheart," You say as you get back on your feet. You glance at Aaron, "You're doing amazing. He's lucky to have you." You turn to the team. Laughters passed between one another. "They're all lucky to have you." You add, crossing your arms on your chest.
"She's good," Savannah nods in amazement. She's only heard of you from Derek but can finally see the difference in Aaron's demeanor the moment he caught a glimpse of you.
"Who randomly has a giant lollipop in their bag?" Derek states in disbelief, the total opposite of how Savannah reacted. He hands JJ a ten-dollar bill, though.
Spencer shrugs, "I would've been way nicer to her if she offered me one last time." He pouts at the sight of Jack waving the lollipop like a taunt.
JJ and Tara laugh.
"Oh, shoot!" You exclaim, twisting your wrist to glimpse at the time. "I still have to pass by somewhere before my flight. Say bye to Dave for me, yeah?" The rush makes you quite frantic, pulling Aaron in. You leave a peck on his cheek, patting his shoulders like it's tradition. "Merry Christmas, Aaron." You bid farewell with a smile and began to walk.
"Wait—" Aaron grabs your wrist. It's so small in his hand. He makes sure he held you tight in a gentle grip. The last thing he wants is to break your wrist.
Your body recoils a few steps back to him as a product of his pull. "Yes?" Anticipation sparks in your eyes as you wait for his response. You must've drank wine too fast because electricity surged through veins, all coming from his firm hold.
A huge lump forms in his throat. "I—" Suddenly, Aaron is tongue-tied.
I want you to stay.
He fights hard to swallow the rock that kept him from talking and clearing his throat. "I'll walk with you," He wishes the ground would swallow him whole. But he suspects that even the devil himself is too embarrassed for him to let him in.
"Oh..." You don't know why you felt disappointed. What were you even expecting in the first place? You flash a smile, though. "Sure."
— ✦ — ✦ ✦ — ✦ ✦ ✦
Aaron stays at David's for two more hours before he decides that Jack needs to catch up on some sleep before they leave for Jessica's place in the morning. So, he drives through the light traffic, listening to Jack sing along the radio.
Jingle Bell Rock had just ended, and the DJ interjects for an update about the evening traffic during the transition to the next song when Jack asks a question. "Where did your crush go, Dad?" He inquires all too nonchalantly.
"What did you say?" It takes everything in Aaron to will his eyes to stay on the road and his hands to keep complete control of the wheel. He glances at Jack from the rearview mirror.
"The pretty, nice lady who gave me this," Jack hoists the lollipop in his hand like a wand. He takes a taste of it and adds, "You think she likes Christmas movies? Can we invite her?"
Aaron blinks fast. He couldn't believe how much Jack had grown fond of you in only minutes of interacting with him. He ponders whether you're some kind of a witch. He clears his throat in an obvious fake cough, "I'm sure she'd love to, buddy."
"Can you call her to come back? We can invite her for hot cocoa!"
"Sorry, buddy," Aaron feels bad. He doesn't even know your phone number, even if he could get it within seconds from Penelope. "She had to go and do some work. Maybe n-next time." He isn't sure why he was stuttering in front of his child.
"You didn't ask her to stay?"
It felt like a freezing wave of water filled with ice washed over Aaron. Then, for a moment, he feels proud to know that Jack's innocence has given him the bravery Aaron couldn't even muster.
"No, bud... I didn't." He admits more melancholy to a nine-year-old than he intended to.
Jack sighs, "Aww. Yeah, maybe next time, Dad. I'm sure she'll like to hang out with you if you give her a lollipop. She'll think you're nice. It worked for me. I think she's really nice." He stares at the molded sugar in his hand.
Aaron couldn't believe his son was talking some sense into him. Where did the time go? Jack sounds more mature than Aaron has ever felt for months since he's seen you after years. He tightens his grip on the wheel, clenching his jaw from the sudden torrent of courage that blazes his chest.
"Jack, would you mind passing by somewhere before we go home?"
The boy shakes his head, "It's okay as long as you're okay with me staying past my bed time." Jack giggles.
Aaron chuckles, "I'll let it slide this time," He jests, then turns the wheel and heads to the airport.
You come back from the restroom, looking for a place to sit and wait, when a small figure wraps his arms around your torso, "Jack? What are you doing here? Are you by yourself? Are you okay?" You quickly scan him from head to toe. You could barely move from the way he held you.
He's okay. You tell yourself. Had he been hurt you weren't sure how to face his father.
"I found her, Dad!" Jack shouts, earning looks from exhausted patrons. He leans backwards but still tangled around your legs like his life depended on it.
You panic for a second. Unsure what to make out of his statement. You look around first to mutter an apology on behalf of the boy, but somewhere along the lines you felt like you were a mother denying her child.
"Great job, Jack." You hear a voice so familiar you needn't have to look up to confirm your guess. Aaron walks closer to the two of you out of breath. He tries to play it out but the rise and drop of his shoulders didn't pass your gaze.
You lift your vision up and meet with Aaron's heaving self. "Hotch? What's going on? Is everything okay?" You coax like you aren't sure if he's going to tell you the truth.
Aaron tucks a portion of his lower lip. Fuck. He ran out of courage. His throat is tight. His brain is frozen. His body is stiff.
Jack takes his father's hand and pulls him closer to where you stood. He looks up at you, "Dad has a crush on you. I also think you're nice. Can you watch Christmas movies and drink hot cocoa with us, please?" He says intelligently like he's tired of his father freezing on the spot whenever he faces you.
Your brows knit together, but a huge grin raises the ends of your lips. "He what?" You meet Aaron's blushing gaze. You've never seen his neck, face, and ears glow in rosy red except that one time during an undercover case.
Aaron melts into a chuckle, lowering his head. "I, uh..." He scoffs a laugh, "I can't believe you heard it from Jack first." He meets your eye once more, "Would you mind staying for a bit?" It's clear he has no idea what he was doing. He thinks he's about looking idiotic in front of many people and, most importantly, his son.
You hear your name from below, looking down at Jack as he gestures for you to go down. You do as he says, leaning close when he moves next to your ear, "Dad is very shy, but he really likes you. He smiles when he talks to you. I think he would be happy if you hang out with us." Jack whispers so well Aaron is left to wonder.
"You really think so?" You ask audibly for the sake of Aaron's sanity. You ruffle Jack's hair as he nods eagerly. "I don't mind at all," You smile at Aaron so sweet he feels euphoric.
All three of you leave the airport. The traffic then has grown more difficult to maneuver into, and by the time Aaron parks his car in the driveway, Jack is already ten minutes in his sleep.
You chuckle as you both turn to the backseat, "I stand corrected," You smirk, "I think you're lucky to have him."
"Yeah," Aaron titters, "He's a lot braver than me." He adds gently, reaching out to fix Jack's hair.
A comfortable silence basks the two of you. Jack's soft breathing faintly rings in the background as if both of you had to make sure he's there.
Aaron looks at you, though. He relishes the way the dim light from outside casts a shadow on your face. He loves the way your soft features are still visible despite the dark. "Stay," He blurts out.
"Sure, I'll stay 'til I find another flight—"
"No, I meant..." He struggles to swallow the saliva in his mouth. "I want you to stay. Here... with me." Aaron shifts his eyes down on the gearstick. "I'm not saying that I never loved Haley, but I never stopped loving you." He's sure that no normal person would declare their love the way he just did. He hoped that some foreign spaceship would open the roof of his car and take him away. "I don't know if I make sense. I'm certain that I'm ruining my chances the more I speak, but I want you to stay. I should've asked you to stay a long time ago."
Your gaze sinks into Aaron's eyes. You tuck your lips. Then, you smile. "I agree," You acknowledge, moving your eyes on his lips for a milisecond.
Aaron straightens his back, "I know it's been years," He babbles a laugh, moving his hands as he speaks. "It's okay if you don't— wait—" He blinks once or twice. "Did you just agree? To what exactly?" Only you can make him stumble on his own thoughts.
"I'll stay," You declare, biting the inside of your lower lip. You scoff a silent laugh, "I should've done this a long time ago."
"Done what?" Aaron narrows his brows.
Your gaze jumps between his eyes and his lips, "This," You cup his face with both your hands, clashing your lips like he's in need of saving from a true love's kiss.
Aaron melts into your hold. Not long does he track his hands up your shoulders. Then, to your back, pulling you closer. His hands travel all over you, exploring every inch.
All his life he's seen you as some idea of sweet poison. But as his lips dance with yours, he couldn't ignore the lingering bitter taste of whiskey. He laughs into the kiss. He's been ignorant, wrapped in a saccharine image of you. Was he so wrong for that.
He claims you're still too sweet for him, but was he so glad you came back to him.
Jack moves in his sleep. You both freeze on the spot, lightly pushing Aaron to create space between you.
A soft giggle echoes from your lips, leaning your forehead against his shoulder, "We should bring him upstairs."
"I think that's a good idea," Aaron quips. He unbuckles his seatbelt and opens his door, but before he gets out, he steals another peck on your lips.
#aaron hotchner#ssa aaron hotchner#fem!reader#criminalminds#criminal minds#aaron hotchner fic#aaron hotch x reader#aaron hotch x you#hotch#aaron hotch imagine#aaron hotchner fluff#hotch x reader
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One Step From Grace | s4
pairing: aaron hotchner x childhood bsf!reader
summary: Hotch and his childhood best friend working together at the BAU: a slow burn across the seasons.
word count: 19.2k
warnings: canon!typical violence, mentions of abuse, mentions of death, abortion mention, implied SA, gun violence, specific episodes mentioned in this part are 4x01, 4x02, 4x03, 4x09, 4x11, 4x16, 4x17, 4x18, 4x23, and 4x26
a/n: Some more tension in the slow burn! I included some more specific episode details in this one, because some of the eps and characters are important to future seasons :') P.S. I love hearing all of your thoughts and comments (it's honestly what makes all of this worth it) so lmk what you think:) Title is from Grace by Rag 'n Bone Man
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"Garcia, is everyone okay?"
You can hear the sound of sirens blazing down the street a few blocks away from you, but you're too far away to make it there in time.
"Oh, thank god, you're alright," she gasps over the phone, her voice thick with tears. "Rossi and Reid called me just now, and Derek's on the line."
He greets you with a frantic urgency. "Hey, Y/N, I'm heading to the explosion site to see what happened."
"Okay, sounds good, keep calling people," you instruct Garcia, before swerving across the lanes and turning at the next intersection.
She calls Emily, who tells you that she's also going to the NYPD's critical incident command posts. When she tries JJ, the call doesn't go through, and then suddenly the line goes quiet.
"Garcia?" you call into the void. "Penelope, are you there? Derek? Emily?" No one responds, and your heart rate spikes again as you pull over in front of the command center and rush inside.
Rossi and Reid envelope you in big hugs when you find them in the main bullpen, and soon after, Emily and JJ join you inside.
"Do we know what happened?" you ask them as you crowd around the city map where Reid pinpointed all the prior crime scenes. "What street was the explosion on?"
Reid opens his mouth to answer, when Emily's phone rings. "Yeah, Garcia, I'm back. JJ's here too."
She listens for a few seconds, before her eyes widen and she glances over at you. Lifting the phone from her ear, she puts it on speaker and says, "Can you repeat all of that?"
"Derek's chasing after the bomber," Penelope says, her breaths coming out in short spurts. "The bomb... it was in Kate's SUV, or under it. Hotch is out there with her."
Your heart stutters and you press your palms against the back of the chair in front of you, leaning over it to get closer to the phone. "Is he okay?" You squeeze your eyes shut for a moment. "Are they okay?"
"He seems okay, but she looks really hurt. He hasn't moved her."
You release the breath you didn't realize you were holding and stand up straight, turning around to catch your breath. If something had happened to him...something irreversible...you don't know what you would've done. Especially after the last thing you said to him.
It's not your place to have this discussion.
Screw you.
"Where was Kate's SUV parked?" Rossi asks from behind you as you rub your eyes and turn back to face Emily's phone.
"2 blocks East of Federal Plaza."
***
You keep picturing the security camera feed of his SUV blowing up as you rush into St. Barclay's hospital. The moment Morgan called with the update that Hotch was taking Kate there in an ambulance, you all piled into an SUV and drove straight over.
You know Garcia and Morgan said he was fine, but not all injuries are visible. You're the first person inside, and you rush down the hallways until you spot a nurse in the ER. After you flash your badge, she points you to the curtains behind her.
When you push past them, he's standing up, working on the last few buttons of his shirt. His face is covered with tiny abrasions, and there's a piece of gauze stuck to his right ear.
"Aaron," you whisper, not wanting to startle him. He looks up as he grabs his tie out of the bag they put his clothes in. "Let me do that."
You take the tie from him as he sighs and closes his eyes for a long moment. It's silky against your fingers as you loop it around his neck and slide it under his collar.
"How are you feeling?" you ask him, trying to keep your voice soft.
He dips his chin to meet your eye and he squints as he shakes his head. "I'm fine, but Kate's in surgery. It didn't look good."
"I'm sorry," you whisper, forgetting about any prior gripes you had with her. "I'm sure she'll pull through."
He purses his lips and nods, just as the rest of the team pushes past the curtain. You step back quickly without thinking, and you don't miss the flash of confusion in his eyes before he turns to Morgan for the latest update on the bomber.
You swallow thickly as you look at your feet, letting everyone else walk around you. You don't know why you stepped back. Maybe it's the freshness of his divorce. Maybe it's the way Agent Calvert from the Portland office looked over your shoulder after you told him you weren't ready for dating again.
Whatever it was, you know you hated how it felt.
***
"There's a bomb on the ambulance."
Fear spikes through him as he turns around. "The ambulance which I drove in here." This day has already been longer than any of them expected it to be, but each passing minute seems to bring another surprise.
Rossi shoots him a knowing look that he reflects. "The hospital is their target."
He glances at you and you look back at him, your eyes filled with what he can only guess is fear. His mind flashes back to your interaction earlier, but he pushes it out of his brain as he realizes that they are down a man. "Where did Morgan go?"
Emily turns back. "He went to find the ambulance."
"Alone?" you gape at her, reaching for the gun in your holster.
He figures they only have a few minutes before the cell signal returns, so he grabs his own gun and nods. "Let's head down."
The ambulance is gone when they find the bomber in the parking garage, holding a knife to his throat. Before any of you can approach him, he slits his own throat. He can't help the grimace of disgust that crosses his face as the terrorist falls to the ground.
Once the immediate danger to the hospital is alleviated, everyone starts to relax. The rest of the team stays behind to clear the scene as he sprints up to the seemingly empty surgical ward. He finds the operating room that Kate was supposed to be in, but when he pushes through the doors, all he sees is a few janitors mopping the blood off the floor.
"What happened?" he gasps out. "Where's the surgeon."
A man in a blue scrub cap comes forward and pats his shoulder, a resigned look on his face. "We did all that we could. I'm so sorry."
All of the momentum leaves his body as he releases his breath, his shoulders deflating along with it like a circus balloon. The surgeon leaves the room and he looks down at her blood seeping down the floor drain. He watches as it mixes in with the cleaning fluids, and he can't help but wish that her death could've been less painful.
***
You wait outside the hotel the next morning, your go-bag hanging heavily off your shoulder. When the doctors told Hotch he wasn't cleared to fly yet, you told the NY agent assigned to drive him that you could take over.
"What are you still doing here?"
You turn around to see Hotch walking out of the hotel, the bag in his left hand evening out his gait after the explosion gave him a temporary limp.
You smile, pushing your sunglasses down from your head. "I'm your ride."
His eyes twinkle in the bright sunlight. "You really didn't have to. The flight is much quicker."
"It's okay," you shrug, before grinning. "Besides, I would never pass up an opportunity to annoy you for three hours."
That makes him laugh, before he winces slightly. Got it. No jokes.
He doesn't complain as you take the driver's seat, and that's when it hits you how much pain he must be in. For as long as he's had his license, he has preferred to be the one driving, sometimes even when he's in your car.
The first few minutes of the drive are quiet, but eventually you need to fill the silence. "I'm really sorry about Kate."
"Thank you," he sighs, his eyes squinting at the sun as you pull onto the highway. "I've known her for a long time." He exhales sharply. "Knew her."
You remember him telling you about a case he worked, years ago, that took him to Scotland Yard. He had sounded almost excited as he recounted the differences in how the British government handled procedure, but he had kept one thing to himself.
"You never told me about her," you say gently, trying to keep the blame out of your voice. You're not angry, you just don't understand why it would have been a secret.
He turns his head to gaze out the window for a few moments, before he looks back at you. "I wasn't sure about how that case would go when I agreed to take a look, but we ended up working really well together. I had spoken to her a few times before, mostly over the phone, but it was our first time meeting in person. We caught the guy we were looking for in just a few days, so before I left, she invited me to join her team for dinner."
You can guess where this is going, but you let him finish, in case you're wrong.
"When she dropped me off at my hotel that night, she made a... suggestive remark that I would've ignored if the implication hadn't been so clear. I shut it down immediately, but I didn't tell Haley when I got back, and I guess I just felt so guilty about it that I couldn't bring myself to tell you either."
Hotch feeling guilty about something. There's a shocker.
You glance over at him with a small smile. "I get it."
The "Welcome to New Jersey" sign flies past as you cross the bridge, and you both sit in comfortable silence as the sun glints off the water and reflects onto the cars around you. You see him looking out the window, and you wonder if he's thinking about Haley again, but then he turns to you with a curious expression. "The unit chief job here is yours if you want it."
Do you want it? You know you like leadership, and you would be lying if you said you hadn't thought about the possibility of moving up the ladder at some point, but now that you're confronted with the opportunity, it doesn't feel how you thought it would.
The thought of leaving this team, when they've become your second family, tastes bitter on your tongue. You know you could assume that other teams are like this too, but when you actually try to picture it, it doesn't feel possible.
"You can think about it," he says after a minute, "but not for long. They need a replacement ASAP."
You glance over at him and a realization clicks in your brain. "Wait, they needed your recommendation before offering me the position, didn't they?" You crack a smile. "You tryna get rid of me, boss?"
He laughs, before it turns into a small grimace from the pain. "No, of course I don't want you to leave. I just know you're destined for more than this. You could be doing so much good work, leading your own team."
The sun peeks out from behind the buildings in front of you, and you reach up to pull down the sun visor. "Maybe one day. But not today."
His eyes flit over to meet yours and you share a smile before you turn back to the wide expanse of road ahead of you.
***
You've been watching him all day. He was cleared to fly again, but you saw how pained he looked when the jet took off, and again when they exhumed Cortland's grave. The way he's been flinching back at the slightest sound, and cowering in pain after the louder screeches.
You tighten the strap of your kevlar vest and glance over at him again as he whispers something to the local sheriff on the Angel Maker copycat case. You've cornered the unsub in the latest victim's house, and Morgan got her out before she could be killed, but Emily continues to speak to the unsub through her megaphone, coaxing her out and into custody.
"It's over, Chloe," she says calmly as Morgan deposits the woman into the awaiting ambulance. "We have Faye. You have nowhere to go."
After a few moments, the front door creaks open and everyone lifts their weapons. She looks surprised when she sees the dozens of guns pointing at her, but then she lifts her own and Hotch steps in.
"Chloe, drop the gun."
The sheriff, with much less composure, jabs his weapon forward. "Damn it, lady, drop it!"
She takes a step forward and the sheriff fires, taking her down in one shot. Hotch goes down at the same time, doubling over in pain, his hands going up to cover his ears as he lets out a low groan.
As everyone else goes to Chloe, you rush to him, lifting your hands to press them over his in an attempt to help him hide from the external chatter and noises. "Aaron, it's okay, you're gonna be okay."
His body folds into yours as you wrap your arms around his head, clutching him to you, unable to help. "It's okay, it's okay."
It takes a few seconds for him to relax in your arms, and then a few more for him to remove his hands from his ears and stand up straight again.
"I'm okay," he sighs, his brow still furrowed with tension. "Thank you."
"Of course," you whisper, your chest heaving as the stress slowly seeps from your body. "You're not flying home."
He takes a deep breath before slowly dipping his chin into a nod. "It's a much longer drive. You don't have to accompany me this time."
The corner of your lip quirks up. "What makes you think I was offering?"
"Okay," he chuffs, rolling his eyes. You can still see the image of him doubling over in pain splashed across your eyelids, but you manage to push it out of your mind long enough to return his smile.
***
"Stand!"
You look up from the young girl you were interviewing with Emily and Spencer as Cyrus storms into the room with a gun, his second in command hot on his heels.
"What's going on?" Emily asks as she and Nancy Lunde, the state officer you came onto the cult compound with, stand up and approach him.
He squints, scrutinizing each of you. "We just got A very strange phone call from a news reporter. Is there anything you want to
tell me, about a raid, maybe?"
You frown, genuine confusion coloring your expression as you shake your head. "We told you, we're child victim interview experts."
He takes another moment to consider your answer before nodding and instructing the man with him to lead you to the tunnels for safety while the raid continues.
You let Spencer, Emily and Nancy go ahead of you as the sounds of gunfire from the back get louder. When you reach the tunnels, they head further in to help the children take cover as Nancy turns back and gives you an earnest look. "I can talk to him."
You're shaking your head before she's done speaking. "No, you can't. It's too dangerous."
You try to grab her arm, but she rushes forward and past the small crowd of children that safely made it out of the school. You run after her as she calls out, "Mr. Cyrus, let me talk to them."
She's too close to the window. You reach forward to grab her arm and pull her back but then another round of gunshots fires off and she drops to the ground in front of you. You start to crouch down, out of the line of sight of the window, when a searing pain shoots through your abdomen. You keel over, falling forward into the wall of the chapel as you gasp out in pain.
It doesn't hurt as bad as it probably should, but the adrenaline coursing through your veins won't last forever. You press your hands against the bullet wound that ripped through the side of your abdomen, and try to calm your breathing as fear washes over you. The team knows you three are in here, they'll figure out how to get you all out.
You know the minimal loss scenario by heart, and the BAU was the one who wrote the CIRG playbook, so it's a small comfort to know that you'll be able to predict their moves. You can only hope that they will be able to predict yours just as well.
Another wave of pain shoots through your side and you grit your teeth as the adrenaline starts to wear off. They better hurry.
***
He knows he's emotionally involved. They all are, but if his people aren't the ones leading this negotiation, he won't be able to forgive himself for any outcome that doesn't end with the three of you coming out in one piece.
He's listening in as Dave speaks with Cyrus, and he can't help but notice how cavalier his tone is after his followers were just shot at. He continues to rant about the final battle he has foreseen, until Dave manages to get him back on track.
"Now, the four child services workers..." he says slowly. Hotch can hear the concern coloring his tone even as he tries to act detached.
Cyrus's voice is crisp over the line. "One of them is dead."
His heart jumps to his throat. Your face flashes in his mind and he closes his eyes as he silently begs whoever is out there for it not to be you. Not you, not Prentiss, not Reid. Please.
"Her name was Nancy Lunde."
His breath comes out like a gasp, and Dave turns to him with an equally relieved expression. He's so thankful that the guilt for wishing harm on anyone takes an extra second to take over.
But Cyrus isn't finished talking. "One of the other child service workers was shot during the same raid. Once again, by your people."
He looks up at Dave, waiting for him to ask who it was, but he doesn't have to. The next word out of Cyrus's mouth is your name, and his stomach twists with nausea and anguish even as he assures Dave that your wound has been cleaned and properly dressed.
He turns to look at the compound, as though he could see you if he squinted hard enough. Hold on, he thinks, hoping you can hear him somehow. You've always had a way of reading his mind. Please hold on.
***
You wake up on a small cot, with a woman bent over you. You hiss as she presses down the edge of the bandage on your abdomen, and you bring your chin to your chest to see the current state of your gunshot wound.
You're surprised to see the blood washed off, a clean bandage and gauze left in its place.
"You got lucky," the woman says when she realizes you're awake. "The bullet went all the way through."
"Thank you," you whisper, before turning your head to look around the room. "Where are the people I came in with?"
"I'll take you to them," she nods, reaching her hand out. You take it and let out an involuntary groan as she helps you into a standing position. You try taking a step, but another spike of pain shoots through you, so the woman latches her arm under your shoulder to help you walk.
It takes a few minutes, but eventually you get back to the main chapel, where Emily and Spencer are sitting with the rest of the followers. They turn when the doors open in front of you, and they immediately jump out of their chairs to take over for the woman helping you.
"How are you feeling?" Spencer asks, his eyebrows pinching as he looks at you.
"I'm okay," you assure him, even as your vision blurs from the pain of having to walk so far. "Can we just sit down, though?"
"Of course," Emily nods, helping you sink into a chair. "I'll get you some water."
Spencer sits down next to you when she rushes off, and you don't miss how he keeps glancing down at your stomach.
"It'll be okay, Spence." He meets your eye and you nod again. "We know the playbook. We just have to follow it."
Emily returns with a water bottle that she opens and hands to you, and you chug half of it before setting it down. Hotch, please hurry, you think, wishing he could hear you.
***
The next morning, you wake up to a knock on the front door of the compound. You peel your eyes open and try to sit up, before remembering what happened the night before. Your skin feels wet as you run your fingers against the edge of the gauze, and you look down to see that you're bleeding through the dressings.
"Emily," you whisper, pushing her shoulder gently to shake her awake. "I need you to get the first aid kit again."
You feel more blood drip down your stomach, and your vision turns hazy for a moment, like a confirmation. She walks across the room to get the kit, and you almost forget about the knock on the door, until Cyrus opens it, revealing a stone-faced Rossi.
They shake hands as Emily removes your dressings before tearing open a new packet of gauze and pressing it into your wound.
"The children," Cyrus tells him, gesturing to the crowd. He then points at the three of you. "And our guests."
Rossi meets your eyes for a split second, and you make sure to keep your expression neutral as he nods and turns back to Cyrus. You're glad it's him who came inside, and not Hotch, because even though you want nothing more than to see him right now, you also don't want him to see you like this.
Rossi tries to get him to release the children, but he ends up leaving with nothing more than a promise to send food and supplies.
***
"Prentiss, Reid, and L/N are okay," Dave says as he jogs back to the tent outside. He turns to Hotch then. "She's been shot in the abdomen. They've tried to dress her wound, but she's losing blood."
Shit. He shuts his eyes as he tries to think about what he can do from out here to speed up the playbook.
"I have a signal!" Morgan beckons them over as he lifts a few sets of headphones for them to wear. With the bug Dave left on the compound, at least they have ears on the inside. It's not all he wants, but it's something, at least.
***
"Which one of you is it?"
Cyrus storms into the basement, where Spencer and Emily are sitting next to you as you lay down on the small cot from earlier. After Emily changed your bandages, Spencer managed to convince him to let you rest away from the followers.
"Which one of you is the FBI agent?"
Spencer jumps in before you can react. "Why do you think one of us is an FBI agent?"
You haven't had the time or capacity to properly profile this man yet, so you don't know if his evasive tactic will work, but you also know he's smart enough to have thought this through.
Cyrus sighs, almost like he's disappointed. "God will forgive me for what I must do." He steps forward and points his gun at Spencer's head. You gasp, trying to keep a look of confusion on your face as you fight the urge to step in.
"I-I don't know what you're talking about," Spencer says, stumbling over his words. His eyes are wide with fear, and you can't tell how much of it is real and how much is for show.
Cyrus tuts. "One of you does. Who is it?"
You open your mouth to say something, anything, to distract him, but then Emily stands up. "Me. It's me."
The moment of relief you feel when he lifts his gun from Spencer's head is gone as soon as he grabs Emily by the hair and drags her to the door. Your legs burn with the desire to leap off the cot and tackle him to the ground, but you can't move as the door shuts behind them.
***
It's almost night fall by the time Emily joins you again. You and Spencer were moved back up to the chapel after Cyrus took her away, and seeing her now, she looks awful.
Splotchy bruises of purple and blue paint her neck and chest, and there's dried blood on her temple and the corner of her mouth.
"Emily," you gasp, trying to control your expression so that Cyrus and his diehard followers don't think you know her as well as you do. You hate the feeling of letting her take the brunt of his punishment and blame, but it won't help to expose yourselves as agents too.
Spencer leans over you to get a better look at her. "Are you okay?"
She nods, flashing him a small smile. "Yeah, it looks worse than it feels." You can't imagine she's seen her reflection today, but you still appreciate her trying to relieve his stress.
Right then, the front door opens again and a shipment of food containers are carried inside. Men lift the boxes and bring them around the room to feed everyone inside, and when they set a box in front of you three, you notice a familiar scrawl of handwriting on top of the to-go container. 3AM. They're coming in at 3AM.
***
When the followers leave to go to bed, Cyrus takes Emily away again to separate her from you and the others. You fight the exhaustion pulling your eyes shut as you sit on the floor with your back against the wall. Spencer has been talking to Cyrus's second in command, trying to convince him that the Bible can be used to manipulate anything, but Cyrus catches on quickly.
You keep glancing at the door, hoping that Emily will find her way back up before 3AM hits, but as each minute ticks by, the idea becomes more futile.
You saw the diehard followers rigging the compound with explosives earlier in the night, and the detonator is clutched in Cyrus's hand like a lifeline. The irony doesn't escape you.
"Something's wrong," the follower reports, his eyes scanning the darkness outside through the window of the chapel.
Cyrus walks over to check, and you use the moment of distraction to lift the edge of your shirt and check your bandages. You're starting to bleed through the gauze again, but it's not bad enough that you need your dressings changed just yet.
When Cyrus realizes that he's been lied to, Spencer tries to distract him by spouting off verses at a rapid pace, but Cyrus just rams the butt of his rifle into his head, sending him to the ground.
"You cannot convert my brothers," Cyrus says before hitting him again. You crawl over to him, ignoring the screaming pain in your side, and clutch his arm for some semblance of comfort. Cyrus looks down at the both of you, his eyes squinting. "No one had to follow. God could have stopped me."
"He just did."
There's a gunshot, and you whip your head around to see Morgan and a young girl racing out of the tunnel before he crouches beside you. "You two alright?"
You nod, reaching your arm up to let him help you into a standing position. "Where's Emily?"
"We got her out of here," he explains, before turning to the girl. "Sweetheart, come with me."
She looks at each of you, her face twisted with panic, before bending down and picking up the detonator from where Cyrus dropped it. Your eyes widen and you yank Spencer in front of you before pushing him down the tunnel. "Run!"
Derek wraps an arm around your shoulder, holding half of your weight as you both sprint down the tunnel after Spencer. You're almost outside when the explosion goes off, pushing you to your knees with a strong gust of air and smoke.
***
He yells out your name as the blast engulfs the compound. His throat feels ragged as he yells out for Reid and Morgan too, but he can't see anything until three figures stand up from the plume of smoke and stumble down the steps.
He rushes up, meeting you halfway as you collapse from Morgan's arms into his. He grabs onto you as your knees buckle, and he manages to pull you towards him before you hit the ground.
He can't breathe as he clutches you to him, trying to be mindful of your wounds. Your breath comes out in gasps that mix in with his own as he sags with relief that you're here, back in his arms, where he can keep you safe.
He pulls back when he sees the paramedics approaching, and it's only then that he finally gets a good look at you. Your skin is gaunt, and his heart thuds loudly in his ears as he sees you wince in pain.
When they load you into an ambulance, his feet finally start working again and he races after you. "I'm coming with you."
You nod as he climbs through the doors and you reach your hand out over the side of the gurney. Your fingers feel cold when he clasps your hand in his, and he syncs his breaths with the sound of the sirens as your eyes fall closed.
***
The first thought that goes through your head when you wake up is that it's too bright. You squint as your eyes peel open, and in the few moments it takes for them to adjust to the light, a chorus of quiet 'she's awake's filter around the hospital room.
"How are you feeling?" JJ asks, stepping closer to stand at your bedside.
"You gave us a real scare, Mama," Penelope adds with a gentle smile.
You open your mouth to respond, but your throat is so dry, no sound comes out. Emily darts forward to grab the cup of water on the counter, and you glance over to see the yellowing bruises on her cheekbones.
After a few sips, you clear your throat and say, "I'm good. How long was I out?"
"Just a day," Derek responds from the foot of your bed, where he's standing with Spencer and Penelope.
Spencer chimes in. "You got out of surgery a few hours ago, and the doctors said you can go home tomorrow morning."
You nod slowly, stretching out your arms and legs to test the limits of your mobility. When you push yourself up into a sitting position, it doesn't hurt as much as it did on the compound.
"Ah, you're awake," Rossi smiles as he joins you all in the hospital room. It's not exactly huge, so everyone has to stand to make room, but it still doesn't escape your notice that someone is missing.
You return Rossi's smile before glancing over at the door, trying to see if he's just outside. Noticing your gaze, Spencer walks forward and takes your hand, giving it a small squeeze. "He's on the phone with your father. I think he got a flight for tomorrow morning."
You exhale slowly and take another sip of water. "Thank you." He nods and moves to release your hand, but you grip it tighter, holding him back. "Seriously, Spence, thank you." You turn to Emily, who is on the other side and her eyes shine, reflecting the tears in yours. "That whole operation sucked, but I'm really glad you two were in there with me."
She lets out a watery laugh and bends down to press an kiss to your temple. "I'm glad you're okay."
When you start fading again, the team leaves with promises to see you back at work in a month, and you close your eyes to get a break from the harsh fluorescent lighting.
***
"Alright," he says into his phone, nodding. "We'll see you in the morning, Mr. L/N. Yes, she's doing a lot better...okay, good, see you soon."
He ends the call and tucks his phone back into his pocket, before walking over to the vending machine at the end of the hall to grab a few of your favorite snacks. He loads up on chips and pop tarts before heading back up the hallway to your room. When he reaches the door, he realizes that the rest of the team has left, so he steps inside quietly and takes a seat in the small plastic chair next to your bed, before gently setting the snacks on your bedside table.
Your eyes are closed and he figures you must have just fallen asleep, so he crosses his arms over his chest and just sits there, watching you. Your face is covered in little scrapes from the explosion, and you still look a bit ashy, but you somehow still do look beautiful. This isn't the first time he has thought this - it was more of a recurrent notion when you were younger - but he can't deny that you're just objectively a beautiful person. But then again, he's not sure if beauty is ever really objective (eye of the beholder and all that), so he pushes the thought aside and turns back to you.
His thoughts are interrupted when his phone chirps with a text message. Pulling it out of his pocket, he checks the name and sees that Haley has arrived at the hospital. He had called her after you went into surgery, knowing that she would kill him if he didn't keep her constantly updated on your condition.
When he finds her at the end of the hall, she pulls him into a quick side hug that's slightly barred by Jack, who is clutching onto her tightly. He can imagine how scary the hospital looks to a three year old boy.
"Hi, bud," he smiles, pressing a kiss to the top of his head, before looking at Haley again. "She's sleeping, but I'll take you to her room."
"She's alright, Aaron." Haley is looking at him like she's worried he may break down, and it makes him wonder what his expression looks like right now. Ever since you got out of surgery, he has felt a weight lifted off his chest, but if he really thinks about it, he doesn't know if he feels all that much lighter at all.
But he doesn't want to say any of that out loud. Nodding, he cocks his head at the other end of the hall and leads her to your room, where you are blinking your eyes open again.
"Oh, sweetheart," Haley coos, adjusting Jack on her hip and walking over to your bedside. "I hope we didn't wake you up?"
You shake your head with a smile, but he can tell you're lying. You look exhausted, and he can see you periodically glancing at the light on the ceiling to keep your eyes alert.
"Well, hello," you grin at Jack as you carefully push yourself up into a sitting position. "How's my little Jack-o-lantern doing?"
His mouth twitches and he reaches his arms out as he lets out a loud, "Good!" You reach forward slowly, likely testing the limits of your mobility, and take him from Haley, who hands him off with a concerned look on her face.
"Be careful, baby," she tells Jack, before stepping back and crossing her arms. "Aunt Y/N is a little fragile today."
To his credit, Jack just slumps down into your arms, absentmindedly playing with the ends of your hair as you turn to Hotch. "Reid said you called my dad?"
He nods, taking a deep breath. "He'll be here in the morning. I assured him you were just fine, but he wants to stay here for a bit to keep an eye on you."
"That's okay," you shrug, much to his relief. After your last conversation about your father, he wasn't sure where you stood and how far he was allowed to push. "It'll be nice to have some company while I'm off for the next two weeks."
"Two months," he corrects with a stern look.
"One."
"Fine." The only reason he relents so quickly is because he knows how quickly he would be back at work if he was in your position. "But I'm limiting your field work until you're more healed."
You nod after a second. "I'll take it."
Haley huffs out a laugh and looks at him with an expression he remembers from their marriage. Affection with a hint of exasperation.
"Alright, you two," she smiles, reaching for Jack again. His entire fist is tangled in your hair at this point, but you don't seem to mind. "I should get him to bed. It's already past his bedtime."
You nod and hand him back, before letting her envelope you in a warm hug that you settle yourself into. "Love you, Hales. Thanks for coming by."
"Love you too, honey."
***
Haley leaves with Jack, and you slump down in the bed, feeling tired, but no longer sleepy.
"I can head out too," Hotch says quickly, reaching for his coat, "if you want to sleep."
You shake your head, and he drops his arm immediately, as though he was just looking for an excuse to stay. The thought makes you smile and his brow pinches in confusion. What's on your mind?
"I'm just glad I met you." You reach for his hand he takes it, giving it a soft squeeze, before taking a seat in the chair beside you.
"I brought you some snacks from the vending machine," he points out, glancing over at the pile he made on your table. "I got your favorites...at least out of what they had."
You grin, feeling your chest fill with warmth as you take in the assortment. "Sunchips and cinnamon pop tarts. You remembered."
"Of course," he shrugs. "You're the only person I know, other than my three year old son, who still eats pop tarts."
You make a face, swatting your hand at him, but he's just out of reach. "It's not my fault toddlers have great taste."
He chuckles as you tear open one of the packages and break off a piece. The buttery, sweet taste brings you back to your childhood when your mom was still alive. She would wake you up with two brown sugar cinnamon pop tarts before school, the sweet smell enough to drag you out of bed at eight in the morning.
"What are you thinking about?"
You look up with a smile, your gaze wistful as the memory slowly fades away. "My mom, actually. I don't have a ton of memories of her, but sometimes the most random thing will trigger an emotion or a memory that I forgot I had."
He nods, his eyes thoughtful. "Like the taste of pop tarts."
"Exactly." You break off another piece and toss it into your mouth, before setting the package back on the table. "Last week it was the smell of this perfume I found at the back of my dresser. It wasn't even the exact scent she would wear, it just had the same base notes."
Your voice trails off, and he looks at you, giving you a moment before speaking up. "What else do you remember?"
"I remember her funeral," you say without thinking, before realizing that it's not a lie. You know that grief is weird, that people usually remember everything or nothing, but for some reason, the funeral only comes back to you in pieces. Your dad crying silently, Hotch holding your hand, your dress being too small on you. You wore it anyway, because she had picked it out for you at the store a couple of years before. "I remember you holding me up."
His eyes flash with something that resembles amusement and he purses his lips. "I remember feeling the opposite. I knew I was supposed to be there for you, but somehow, it felt like you were the one holding both of us up that day."
You shrug, realizing the details don't mean anything. "All I really needed was for someone to hold onto."
He nods and that's when your mind flashes back to New York last month. "Did you go to Kate's funeral?"
"No," he sighs, raking a hand through his hair. "Her family flew her back to London to have it there, and I couldn't take any time off."
You want to apologize, but before you can open your mouth, he beats you to it. "I'm sorry for how I acted in New York."
You frown, but he just shakes his head. "I don't really know why I was trying so hard to protect her. I guess after the close call with Strauss last year, I was less sympathetic to bureau politics, but I still shouldn't have taken it out on you. I should've been protecting you too."
His words are tinged with self-contempt, and you find yourself wanting to take away his guilt even though you were hurt by how he treated you during that case. But that's how the two of you work. The protective instincts don't go away just because one of you is angry at the other.
You remember prom night all those years ago, when he was so peeved at you for convincing him to ask Haley to the dance, even though they had just started talking. She had freaked out and said no, so he was forced to take another girl who asked him after the fact (of which there were many), while you went with Kyle Martinez, who had been showing interest in you for a while. You knew your feelings for Hotch definitely weren't just platonic anymore, but he was into Haley, and he was also Hotch, so you had pushed it aside and gone to the prom with Kyle.
You had spotted Hotch the moment he walked into the ballroom that the school had turned into a Gatsby-themed prom venue. He commanded everyone's attention, and you certainly weren't immune, but you had your own date, so you ignored your best friend and danced with Kyle.
As the night wore on, he had grown bored and asked you if you wanted to get out of there and go somewhere quiet, but you weren't exactly experienced back then.
"I'm okay," you had whispered, trying to maintain your smile. "I'd rather just stay at the dance."
You can still remember the change in his expression when he saw you glance at Hotch, as though it was just yesterday. "What, are you into him or something? You seriously think he'd fuck you?"
You hadn't been able to help it as tears flooded your eyes, and before you knew it, Hotch was standing in front of you, glaring down your date as he asked if you were okay.
"Everything's fine," Kyle had sneered, trying to get around him. "Butt out of our business, Hotch."
He looked at you again. Do you want me to go?
You shook your head, a tear falling down your cheek, and before you had time to blink, his fist was swinging. There was a horrible thump as his fist collided with Kyle's cheekbone, sending him stumbling backwards from the force of the hit.
You couldn't move as Kyle swung back, trying to shove him down, but he didn't budge. He could take physical aggression better than most guys his age, but that didn't make this okay.
"Hotch, please," you had pleaded as he landed another punch. The sound of your voice must had cut through the fog, because he looked up then, unaware of the bruises on his knuckles. You helped him up, and the two of you watched as his date stormed out of the ballroom.
Presently, you look at him sitting in his chair and crack a small smile. "Do you remember prom night?"
He groans and you laugh lightly, being careful not to tear the stitches in your side.
"You never actually told me what that asshole did to you." His tone is light, but you can hear the genuine question underneath.
"It was so long ago," you shrug after a beat. "I don't even remember."
***
Your dad arrives at the hospital early the next morning right before you're discharged. The papers are quick, and by the time the sun has risen fully, you are being taken to his car in a wheelchair, despite your best efforts to refuse.
"I can walk!"
"I don't care."
"Dad, come on."
He frowns down at you. "I drove up here to be of use to you. Let me be of use."
You huff in frustration as he wheels you beside his car, and you try to get up on your own, but you twist the wrong way. You gasp out in pain as one of your stitches pulls and your dad immediately comes around to assist you.
"I hate your job," he grumbles, taking your arm to help you into the passenger seat. "If I had my way, you'd be working out of an office cubicle."
"I know, Dad," you soothe, turning your head back to smile at him. "I'm glad you're here."
"Me too, sweetie."
The drive to your house is quick, and he takes your arm again when you get out to help you inside. Once you're laying down on the couch, you insist that you don't need any more concessions, but he doesn't sit down in your armchair until after he has brought you a glass of water and a blanket.
"Dad, I'm fine, really." He doesn't look convinced, so you paste on your brightest smile, and he finally cracks, smiling back at you. "What do you want to do today?" you ask him.
"Wha- do today?" he sputters. "You need to rest, young lady. I'm not letting you leave this couch until you head up for bed tonight."
You can tell he's serious about this, so you sink back into your pillows with a sigh and grab the tv remote. "What do you want to watch then?"
He leans back in his armchair and brings his palm to his face: his thinking expression. "What's on?"
You click on the television, and the first channel it opens up to is playing a rerun of Breaking Bad. Neither of you seem interested in watching it, so you keep flipping through the channels, but after 20 minutes of mindless surfing, you eventually end up back on Breaking Bad.
"We could just play it in the background," you suggest with a shrug, "while we talk."
"Sure," he agrees, placing his hands on each armrest.
Two hours later, your eyes are glued to the television after having watched three episodes.
"We should probably do something else," Dad suggests at the next ad break. "All of this meth production is rotting my brain."
"Yeah," you agree, taking your time to reach for the remote before clicking the tv off and tossing the remote aside. "We can have lunch in the kitchen..."
"Nice try," he chuckles, before standing up. "Aaron is coming by with takeout soon, and you can eat that right from here."
He had been coming by a lot after your movie night a few months ago, and while hanging out with your best friend isn't an anomaly, it does reinforce the reminder that neither of you have anyone to go home to at the end of the night.
It's another half hour by the time he shows up, Thai takeout in hand, and by then you're starving.
"Thanks for bringing food," you say genuinely after your dad lets him inside the house. "I was worried I would have to live off Dad's cooking for a week."
"Very funny," he says with an eye roll. "But yes, thank you, Aaron."
"Of course," Hotch says simply, before handing your dad a fork and napkin. "I'm also hoping to convince Y/N to take more time off."
"Not fair!" you complain, feeling like you're reverting to your high school self with your dad and best friend sitting across from you. "I'm not starting field work for a couple of months. I just want to come in soon to meet the new press liaison."
"Is JJ leaving?" Dad asks as he takes a bite of green curry with rice.
"Just temporarily," Hotch says, reaching for the pad kee mao container. You nod, chiming in, "She's due in a couple of months, so she's gonna start training someone soon to take over while she's gone."
"Is she still with that cop from...where was it again?"
"New Orleans," you answer with a laugh. "Yeah, she and Will are still together."
You can feel the conversation getting dangerously close to (ex) spouses, so you steer your father away from the topic by having him try all of the food Hotch brought. He ends up staying for a couple of hours as he explains some of the more tame cases you've handled to your dad, who actually seems interested in the finer details of each profile.
Eventually, he heads home, with the explanation that he has Jack that night, and you say good night to your dad before heading up for bed. You cover the stitches with plastic the way the doctors instructed you to before taking a fast shower and getting into your bed.
You can hear the sound of your father's quiet snores from the guest room down the hall, and for a moment, you let yourself imagine that you're back in your childhood home, sleeping in your pink and purple bedroom after spending the day with your best friend.
***
It takes a lot of convincing, but at the end of the month, your dad drops you off at work before making his drive back home. Emily had called you before the team's plane took off, and you timed it right so that you'd get to the office just as they arrived.
The elevator doors open on your floor, and you hear a loud conversation happening between Morgan and Prentiss just before they spot you from the bullpen.
"Y/N!" Emily grins, rushing forward to give you a hug. "How's the healing process been?"
"I feel a lot better," you tell her with a smile as you pull back and drop your bag next to your desk.
"You look a lot better," she nods, before Derek grabs you and pulls you in for a surprisingly gentle bear hug.
"You look great," he says, grinning at you. "Are you cleared to come back to work?"
"Not field work," you sigh, pushing your hair back behind your ear. "I'm just here to turn in some paperwork and then I'm stuck to my desk for a few more weeks."
Derek takes the files from your hand and tosses them on your desk before throwing an arm around your shoulder. "You should come out and get burgers with Prentiss and me."
"Tempting," you say, "but I just came by to meet-"
"Hey guys," JJ calls out from the hallway. "I want to introduce you to someone."
She walks up to you all with another woman by her side. "This is Agent Jordan Todd. She'll be taking over for me while I'm on maternity leave."
You grin, clasping your hands together in front of you as she smiles sheepishly at all of you. "Agent Jareau's told me so much about you all."
She turns to Emily first. "You must be Agent Prentiss."
"Yes," she smiles, shaking her hand. "Nice to meet you."
Spencer walks up at that moment and Agent Todd nods at him. "Hello, Dr. Reid."
He waves back, and she then looks at you. You reach out first to shake her hand and she smiles. "Agent L/N, I presume?" When you nod, she takes your hand. "I heard about the cult incident."
"Yeah," you let out a laugh. "Incident is definitely a word for it."
Derek drops his arm from your shoulder and Jordan turns to him with a cheeky grin that piques your interest. "And Agent Morgan. Nice to see you again."
He nods, not giving anything away. "Nice to see you, too. So, this must be the good news."
"This would be my brownie."
Emily frowns, pointing between the two of then. "Uh, you two have met?"
Derek doesn't turn away from her. "Briefly."
JJ shoots him a look before steering Jordan away to meet the rest of the team, and you and Emily turn to Derek with matching expressions. "What was that about?"
"I met her at a coffee shop this morning," he explains, rubbing a hand over his face. "She knew my name then, and I guess this is how."
"JJ's about to pop," Emily says, glancing at you with a small smirk. "Looks like it's about to get interesting at the BAU."
***
Your first case back in the field takes you to Atlanta, where Vanessa Holden was murdered after going home with a man she met on a night out clubbing. Jordan briefs you all on the details back in the office before you get on the plane.
You're still not used to JJ being gone, and you heard all about Jordan's drive from Hotch when he came by your house with dinner periodically over your bureau-mandated leave, but you don't want to make any judgments before getting to know her yourself.
You sit across from Hotch on the plane, and you don't miss the way his eyes follow each of your movements from the second you sit down. Your bandages are still on, but you've regained almost all of your mobility.
As the jet takes off, you lean forward slightly to adjust the back of your blazer, and his gaze shoots to you, his brow furrowing with concern.
You flash your eyes at him, cutting the tension with a small smirk. I'm fine, I promise.
He squints slightly, scrutinizing your expression for a moment, before letting out an inscrutable sigh and turning back to the case file.
When you land in Atlanta, you start off at the police department with Hotch, Morgan, and Todd, and her continued insistence on being the first to meet with the local officials and debrief them surprises you, given JJ's more subtle nature when working with those who call your team in.
The local police let you know that the Holden family has stopped cooperating with their investigation, but the four of you head over to their home to try and speak with her mother and sister one last time. Jordan gets you in the house by sharing a story about her older sister who passed away, and you find yourself feeling awful about your misjudgment of her, until you notice the look of Hotch's face.
"Did you know that about Jordan?" you ask, trying to understand why he looks so miffed.
"No," he says simply, his brow pinched together, "and neither did she. According to her file, she's an only child."
You flash your eyes at Derek.
The conversation gets you a basic profile of the unsub, based on the cocky way he held himself with Vanessa and the way he was dressed when approaching her at the club, but when the moment you exit her home, Hotch corners Jordan on the driveway.
"The information about Vanessa Holden being the responsible sister," he fumes. "Where did you get that?"
She has the gall not to look ashamed, and you can't decide if you respect her resolve or detest her lack of responsibility. "Some of it was online, and some of it was an educated guess based on birth order."
"A guess."
You practically wince and Derek stares at her, as though trying to hypnotically get her to backtrack.
She looks down then, and he delivers the kicker. "And in the process you lied."
You step forward to insert yourself in the conversation (for what purpose, you don't yet know), but Jordan just stands up straighter, ready to defend herself. "That mother was shut down. I needed to salvage some rapport."
Hotch doesn't back down, and as his brow locks into place, you step back again. "I don't know how you did things in counter-terrorism, but we don't make it a habit to lie to get the job done."
"I got you in the door, didn't I?" she spits out one last time. It's both, you realize. Respect and distaste.
"Not only do you represent the FBI, you represent this team."
He shakes his head, and you cock your head at Derek, gesturing for him to head back to the car. You hear the tail end of their conversation as you yank open the passenger side door.
"From now on, everything goes through me."
Jordan gets saved by the literal bell as his phone rings, and when he steps away to answer it, she comes back to the SUV and gets in the back. "So, how bad did I just screw up?"
Derek heaves out a sigh, looking at her with his characteristic stoicism mixed with compassion. "On a normal scale of one to ten, I'd say a six."
He glances at you and you press your lips together. "But on Hotch's scale...an 11."
She rubs a hand over her face and you turn back to face the front, watching as Hotch paces back and forth, his phone pressed to his ear. He doesn't look up until he's back in the SUV.
***
The profile becomes clear when a new victim emerges: an unsub with a possible scar or birthmark above his left eye, who went to a class for pickup artists. After doing some researching with Garcia, Emily returns with a flyer for a man named Viper that makes your stomach twist.
You, Morgan, and Hotch join her at one of his classes later that day, and it takes everything in you not to sneer in disgust as he describes his approach to meeting women.
"This is the jungle, my friends," Viper finishes off, lifting his hands in the air theatrically, "and your prey wants to be caught."
You and Hotch share a look, and he raises his eyebrows as you cringe. What, not a fan?
You shove his shoulder with yours, but it's not hard enough to actually make him budge. Hilarious.
"Will you listen to that language?" Emily whispers from next to you. "He's training serial killers."
"Great," Derek sighs. "We're dealing with a rampant narcissist and misogynist who's turned himself into a snake oil salesman."
Hotch nods. "That's one more thing he has in common with our unsub."
The class ends soon after, and you get the distinct pleasure of meeting Viper in the flesh. When he approaches the four of you, he makes a clear effort to keep eye contact with only the men, likely trying to use his self-prescribed techniques to make you and Emily feel vulnerable. Instead, it just makes you want to laugh in his face.
"So you think this- what did you call him- unsub, took my class?"
He raises his eyebrows at Emily then, in what you can only hope is meant to be a seductive nature, and she practically snorts. Using his clear attraction to her to the team's advantage, she steps forward and takes control of the conversation. By the time she's finished, she has managed to secure his location for later tonight, and get him just flustered enough that a chance meeting later would have him ready to divulge anything she wants to hear.
'Please tell me we are not giving up on that guy." Emily heaves out a breath as you all walk back outside after speaking with Viper. She was just talking to him, but she looks like she's ready to take another shower.
Hotch flashes his eyes with uncharacteristic mirth. "We're just getting started."
***
His eyes keep darting back to the door of the locker room. Prentiss is going undercover at Club Aqua to get more information about the unsub from Viper, and when she suggested that you and Agent Todd join her, he couldn't think of a good enough reason to quash her idea.
He knows he's been hard on Todd. He figured it out on his own, even with your furtive glances from the passenger side of the SUV after leaving the Holden household.
He wishes he could say it all came from a place of protecting bureau leadership, but he knows that isn't completely true. It's been almost two weeks since he last saw Jack, and every time he drops him back at Haley's, that feeling settles back in his gut, like clockwork. The feeling that tells him he's just like his father.
The locker room door flies open and he averts his eyes, trying to maintain some level of subtlety, but it's only Prentiss and Todd. Where are you?
His unspoken question is answered when Prentiss announces that you told them to get started without you. He's still worried that you're not ready for this kind of assignment so early in your return to field work, so, before he can regret it, he stalks forward and pushes open the door.
The regret immediately comes when he sees your bare back, underneath your unzipped dress, on the far end of the locker room.
"Oh, sorry," he blinks, turning his head back. "I didn't realize-"
He moves to shut the door again, but you look over your shoulder and raise your hand, beckoning him inside. "Wait, I could actually use your help."
He steps through the door and crosses over to you, where you turn your back to him after a small glance. "Zip me up?"
The bottom of the zipper is at the small of your back, and he tries to avoid touching you as he pulls it up to the base of your shoulder blades. He isn't able to avoid it completely, and he tries to ignore the heat of your skin as he drops the zipper and nods. "All set."
You turn around and he forgets to step back in time, leaving you only a few inches from him as you glance up with a confused smile. "You okay?"
He nods again, stepping back and clearing his throat. Why is his skin burning? "I should be asking you that. Are you sure you're up for this?"
"I'm getting the bandages taken off later this week," you tell him, partly misunderstanding his concern. "It doesn't even hurt anymore."
That's definitely a lie, but he allows it for now. "That's not all I'm talking about. You haven't been in the field in months. I just worry that I'm tossing you into the deep end on your first day back."
"I'm fine," you insist, reaching out to put your hand on his forearm. "I would have refused the assignment if I didn't think I could handle it."
He's not sure if he believes that either, but in this case, the assignment itself seems odious enough that he can let it slide. "Okay. Are you ready to head out there?"
"Yeah, just one second."
He waits as you pull a thin necklace from your bag and clasp it around your neck. When it's attached, you spin around with a goofy smile. "How do I look?"
"Amazing," he says without thinking. "I mean- you look great, of course."
You just smile at him, before patting his shoulder and walking out the door to meet the Prentiss and Todd at the club. Your hair brushes past him as you leave, and the scent of your perfume lingers in the air behind you, a flowery aroma that persists even when the door swings shut.
***
Emily waves at you when you approach her and Jordan in a crowded part of the club. "Y/N, I'm sure you remember Viper. God's gift to women."
You smile at him sweetly, before glancing at her. "Sure hope he came with a receipt."
"Another friend," Viper says, letting out a weak laugh.
Emily uses this moment of distraction to pounce. "You promised if I met you on your turf, you'd show me something special. So...let's see it."
He starts spouting off some nonsense about chemical signals, and you're about to take Jordan's arm and pull her aside to give Emily some room, when Viper turns to you with a mock-sincere expression. "Does the boss man you're out here, with me?"
You turn back with a frown. "Excuse me?"
For a moment, you forget to mask your emotions and he practically grins as his bravado grows. "What I do for a living is pretty similar to what you all do. I read people...and from what I could tell during your little ambush of my class earlier, there's something going on between you and the supervisor."
You let out a laugh that feels surprisingly forced as it leaves your throat. "I really can't believe there are people out there who pay you for assessments like that, because you're dead wrong."
He shrugs, looking back at Emily, and you roll your eyes at him before turning away under the guise of giving them some space. When you're out of his line of sight, you let out a breath that was caught in your chest. You know you and Hotch are closer than most friendships are at your age, and you're not unaccustomed to people reading more into it than there is, so you're not sure why Viper's words feel like a fist around your gut.
"Hey, you okay?" You turn back to see Jordan approaching you with a glass of water. "He's really trying everything to get under our skin."
You accept the glass gratefully, and swallow a few gulps, before nodding. "Thank you. I think I just needed some air. I forgot how stuffy these clubs get."
"I hear that." She laughs and you feel your chest loosen with relief that she didn't believe Viper's insinuation. "I can't believe I'm saying it, but I'm almost excited to get back into my work clothes."
You let out a breathy chuckle, before sending her back to keep an eye on Emily as she works on breaking Viper. Later that night, when you get back to the station to meet up with the rest of the team, you excuse yourself early to head to the hotel, and you allow yourself to pretend, just this once, that you weren't avoiding him, and you really were just tired.
***
You're sitting in your car in front of the hospital at seven in the morning, because you didn't want to take any work off just to get your bandages removed. You know this is likely the exact sort of thing the bureau mandates time off for, but a small part of you didn't want anyone knowing you were coming here. Or maybe you just didn't want him to know.
You haven't been trying to avoid him. You may be a little embarrassed by how far under your skin Viper got with his one little comment, but you can't help it. The notion stirred something you don't recognize inside of you and you don't want to take the time to think through it.
You take a deep breath and get out of your car, before walking into the hospital and checking in for your appointment. When you called to secure a time slot, the nurse mentioned that, barring any complications, the appointment shouldn't take more than half an hour.
You're a few minutes early, so you sit in the waiting area, flipping through a fashion magazine from the table next to you. After a minute, you're so engrossed in a page about returning trends that you don't realize he is sitting next to you until he taps the side of your foot with his own.
"Oh shit," you blurt out when you see him, more out of surprise than the shame of being caught. "How did you know I'd be here?"
"Garcia saw it in your calendar and told me." You turn to look at him with mock-exasperation, but you're caught off guard by the genuine hurt in his eyes. "Why didn't you tell me the appointment was today? I could've driven you."
You open your mouth to come up with an excuse, but all that comes out is, "I don't know." He doesn't look convinced, but the doctor calls your name then and you stand up, pressing your lips together. "Will you come with me?"
He stands up immediately, without another word, and you both follow the doctor into a back room, where she proceeds to remove your bandages and check where you are in the healing process. The wound is closed, and is almost entirely scarred over, but she recommends that you continue to take it easy - a point which you see Hotch take mental note of immediately - and limit excessive physical activity.
"The wound is healing very nicely," the doctor says as you walk back to the front. "Give me a call if anything changes, but as long as you keep applying the salve, there shouldn't be a permanent scar."
You thank her before she heads back to meet with another patient, and Hotch holds the front door open for you as you walk out into the parking lot.
"Thank you for coming," you tell him earnestly, "even though I didn't ask you to. I should've told you."
He exhales through his nose, bumping your shoulder. "Yeah, you should have."
He loops his arm through yours as you step off the curb and you lean your head on his shoulder for a second before unlocking your car. You were stupid to let Viper's words get to you. He's your best friend.
He's your best friend, and you love him.
***
One of the first happy memories at the office in a long time comes in the form of JJ coming in with baby Henry. It feels like a welcome relief to see her face back in the bullpen, and for a few peaceful moments, everything feels like it's back to normal.
You know firsthand how much this job takes from people, and Jordan's absence in the office now doesn't go unnoticed, even with a sweet baby boy here to take your mind off of it.
Is this my fault?
Rossi had tried to talk her down after discovering that the unsub had killed his entire family in their home, seemingly after her press release, but sometimes the words aren't enough.
I'm not sure I can do this job.
There had been so much anguish in her voice as she admitted to Rossi that she wasn't cut out for this line of work, but no part of you judged her for it. A bigger piece of you almost envied her ability to recognize that she was in over her head - that she couldn't keep going like this.
Looking at JJ now though, you feel a sense of hope again, like maybe this job doesn't take everything from you.
"I thought you could use a surprise," she smiles, cradling Henry in her arms under a swath of blankets.
"He's beautiful," you whisper, stepping in closer to get a better look at his little scrunched-up face.
Penelope comes back into the room with a freshly warmed up bottle of milk, and JJ starts to feed him as everyone leans closer in wonder. "I wanted us to have at least one good memory to hold onto in this room."
Before you can react, Derek is pushing past you and Spencer. "Excuse me, kid. Um, JJ, can I..."
He points to the bundle in her arms and she looks at him with a soft grin. "Of course."
She carefully transfers Henry into his arms as all of the women worriedly chime in with reminders and comments on his form.
"You gotta hold his head up."
"Careful, you're smothering him!"
"I got it," Derek chuffs, before rocking Henry in his arms. "Look at that, what's he doing? He's smiling at Derek Morgan."
Penelope and Emily share a look. "Gas."
He shoots them a pointed glare, before grabbing the bottle from Garcia's hand and feeding Henry himself. "Hey, little man."
You can't help the smile that crosses your face as you step back to give them some room. Your shoulder bumps into Hotch as you step around JJ, and you look back at him, noticing the little curve of his lips. "You're smiling."
He glances over at you with an eye roll. "Gas."
***
"What's up, Hotch?"
You roll over and turn your bedside lamp on as you press your cellphone to your ear. The alarm clock beside you says it's just past five in the morning.
"We have a case."
You frown, pushing yourself up. "Wouldn't JJ usually call us to come in?"
"This one's different." His voice sounds slightly muffled and his tone is colored by a familiar tinge of irritation. "Dallas AG called me last night to come down here, and it looks like they may have a serial."
"You went alone?" you ask, trying to blink the grogginess from your eyes as you get out of bed. You are distinctly aware of how many questions you're asking, but your brain is still fuzzy from being woken up.
"Yeah," he says simply, before you hear someone call his name from the other end of the line. "I convinced them to bring the team in as well. Anyway, I have to go, but I'll see you soon."
"Yeah, see you-" The line cuts and you sigh, tossing the phone down.
So much for a full night of rest.
***
Spencer briefs all of you on female serial killers on the flight over, and once you land, Hotch is waiting at the hotel. You drop your things off in your room and meet with him, Rossi, and Morgan to head over to the location of the latest crime scene, when another man is murdered.
"Victim was Joseph Fielding," Rossi explains when you enter the office building. "He was CFO here."
"Poisoned?" you clarify.
"And staged," Morgan adds, glancing over the body. This time, the victim was left out in the open, naked and tied up. There's no way the company can keep the media away from this one.
"Which one of you is Aaron Hotchner?"
You turn around to see a man in a fancy suit stalking towards the four of you. You step back to let Hotch get around you, and he approaches the man with a frown. "I'm Hotchner."
"Larry Bartlett," he introduces himself. "I represent Mr. Fielding and Webster Industries."
Hotch angles himself to stand between the man and the body. "This is a closed crime scene, Mr. Bartlett."
"I spoke to Ellen Daniels," he explains, his eyes glinting with over-confidence. "She said you're a very reasonable man."
You resist the urge to snort as Hotch moves to get the attention of the police officers nearby. "Escort him out, please."
"No, wait! The press is outside, and they can smell blood. Any way we can handle this discreetly?"
This time it's you who frowns. "We're not about to lie for you."
"Don't have to lie," he says, gesturing with his hands as though that will help his case. "Just don't comment."
Hotch looks at him for a moment, before excusing himself and pulling the rest of you aside. "Is there any reason to go public yet?"
Rossi shrugs. "Validating her is exactly what she wants. If we hold back, she's more likely to make a mistake."
You almost smile. "He doesn't need to know that."
Hotch meets your eye for a beat before spinning around and putting his lawyer face back on. "We need everything you have on Fielding. Bank accounts, tax records, emails...everything."
***
When Penelope uncovers that the victims have all been withholding child support from their ex-wives, Hotch meets with the city's high-profile corporate lawyers to present the profile. You're not sure how helpful this will be, given that their primary motive is to protect their clients' companies, but it proves useful when one of the lawyers reveals that the unsub may have a penthouse to her name.
The apartment is massive. You walk around the living area, trying to find anything the unsub may have left out, but she has clearly been covering her tracks.
When you don't find anything by the bedroom, you head over to the walk-in closet where Derek and Emily are poking around her jewelry box.
"Hey, Prentiss," Derek suddenly says, lifting up a leather bodysuit and holding it in front of her. "Got a whip?"
Rolling your eyes, you smack the top of his head with the evidence baggy in your hands and walk back out to find Hotch. He's poring over her antique book collection when suddenly the apartment phone starts to ring.
You all argue for a few moments over who should take the call, and Derek quickly alerts Garcia to trap-and-trace it, before it soon goes to voicemail.
"Hi, it's me," the woman's voice says brightly in the voicemail message. "You know what to do." There's a beep, and then her voice comes back, more present this time. "Aaron."
Your eyes snap over to him, but he's still looking at the phone.
"I know you're up there," she continues. "Aaron Hotchner."
He reaches forward and carefully lifts the phone with his gloved hand. He walks over to the window as he presses it to his ear. "I'm at a disadvantage. You seem to know my name, but I don't know yours."
You bend down and press the speaker button on the main console as he moves across the room.
"I thought I could trust you, Aaron." Her voice is tight over the line, the tiny speakers still enough to amplify the emotion in her voice. She sounds so...disappointed.
"Who says you can't?" he responds slowly, clearly testing the range of her emotion.
"I want to," she says quietly. "I even looked you up online. I watched the presentation you gave on school shootings...and for a moment, I actually thought there were still good people in the world."
You remember that presentation. There had been a shooting at an elementary school in Virginia, and the moment the news hit, he had been on the phone, discussing procedures to ensure it wouldn't happen again. You went with him that day that he gave the speech, and you could tell he had been thinking of Jack the entire time he was up there.
Hotch closes his eyes for a beat. "But I've disappointed you, haven't I? Just like all the other men in your life who've walked out on their families."
The line is silent, before: "Did you walk out on your family?"
Hotch looks down for a moment and you fight the urge to walk over and pull him into a hug. "No. My wife left me."
You can feel the team's eyes on you as you keep your expression neutral, your eyes focused on him.
"Do you have kids?"
Your mind flashes to Jack, and your chest feels warm as he nods, before muttering a quick "yes".
The woman speaks up again, her voice stronger yet more emotional. "How often do you see him?"
"I try to see him every week."
She scoffs. "Do you see him every week?" Her question is like a jab, trying to push him into doing or saying something that will prove he's just like the other men in her life.
"No," he admits, glancing back at you. You nod, trying to let him know that you're right here. "I don't get there as often as I want."
"I believe you." Her voice softens and you watch as Hotch's expression turns back to his thinking face. He has an idea.
He lets her talk for a minute, listening in to Garcia's updates on the trap-and-trace, until he chimes in again. "But I'm just frustrating you, aren't I?"
You can hear the confusion in her tone. "What do you mean?"
"Well, you wanna show the world all these bad men, and my investigation's just getting in your way."
"No, Aaron," she sighs heavily. "You just want me to disappear, just like they do."
He shakes his head, turning to look out the window. "Truthfully, I'm only interested in finding you. You don't know who to trust. Am I right?"
There are tears in her voice as she quietly whispers an acknowledgement.
"Come to me and turn yourself in." He walks back to the living area. "I will make sure that you get the help you need. I won't let you disappear."
His voice is a comfort, and for a brief moment, you think that he could probably convince you to turn yourself in if you had to.
There's a beat of silence, before a small rustling sound. "If we met under different circumstances...I could believe that."
The rustling continues, before her tone changes completely, going from soft and meek to strong and icy. "I won't let you cover this up."
There's a gunshot right before the call cuts out.
***
You follow Hotch and Derek into the hotel room, checking behind you as you aim your gun out in front of you. Once Garcia found Megan Kane's address and client list, everything else fell into place.
The room is empty, except for a gun and a bottle of champagne placed theatrically on the center table.
"Hotch," Derek whispers, pointing out at the balcony, where a figure is laying down on one of the lounge chairs.
His brow furrows and he lifts his hand. "Wait here."
"You sure?" you ask, stepping forward to get a better look.
He nods. "It's over. She knows it."
Derek steps out to call 911, and you watch as Hotch approaches her slowly, tucking his gun into his holster before sitting on the chair beside her.
"Nothing will change," you hear her whisper, her voice overflowing with despair. "They'll just go back to doing whatever they want and they'll keep getting away with it."
He shakes his head. "Not if I have anything to do with it."
The response is almost corny, but his voice is so earnest that you find yourself believing him anyway.
He reaches forward and takes her hand, holding it tightly as her head lolls to the side to look at him. "How could your wife have ever left someone like you?"
He doesn't say anything, but you can feel the sadness permeating off of both of them as he comforts her in her final moments. Haley is one of your good friends, and you know she would've made their marriage work if it was something she could control. This job just isn't that.
Megan lets out a soft sob and you avert your eyes, feeling like you're intruding on a private moment. "You're the first man I ever met who didn't let me down. Will you stay with me?"
He doesn't hesitate. "Yes."
"Promise?"
"I promise."
He holds her hand for a long time, and he doesn't stand up until you're certain she's been dead for minutes. The walk back to you is slow, and you can see the extra weight on his shoulders as he trudges across the hotel room.
You open your arms and he all but falls into them, letting you pull him into a tight hug that you can tell is holding him together right now.
"You did good," you whisper as his face presses into your shoulder. "You kept your promise. It's the last thing she wanted, and you gave it to her."
You feel him nod, and a moment later, he stands up, letting his arms drop like deadweights. His hair is slightly disheveled, so you reach up and push the front strands back from his forehead, before resting your hand on his cheek for a quick second. "Let's go home?"
He nods again. "Let's go home."
***
It's snowing. You don't realize it until you step out of the car and onto the sidewalk in front of the Georgetown brownstone where the priest was taken in.
Emily and Derek caught him in the middle of an attempted exorcism, and you didn't arrive with the rest of the team until they were already bringing him out in cuffs. She looks shaken as she leads her friend out of the house and to the ambulance waiting on the street.
Once the paramedics take him from her hands, her body all but deflates, and she exhales deeply, as though releasing the pent-up tension from the day.
"Em," you whisper, approaching her slowly. "Can I drive you home?"
She doesn't look at you at first. Whites flecks of snow dance across your vision and stick to her coat and hair as she stares at the ground. After a moment, she shakes her head. "I'm gonna walk for a while."
Her feet don't move, and you're reminded of a conversation you had years ago, when she comforted you and offered you a quiet place to just be. Gently looping your arm through hers, you ask, "Do you want some company?"
She nods almost immediately, and you let her lead the way as you walk away from the red and blue flashing lights. You can't imagine how tough this case must have been for her, especially because the people she loved were so deeply involved.
The walk is silent, and you look down, watching the patterns the soles of your boots make in the snow. You only stop moving when Emily does, her sudden stillness tugging you back as she stands in front of a small church that she must have seen from down the street.
She lets go of your arm as she turns her face up to the sky, hugging herself in an effort to stay warm or shield herself. Maybe a mix of both.
"You don't have to say anything," you say softly as you turn to face the church as well, your shoulder pressing lightly against hers, "but if you want to, I'm always here to listen."
Emily glances up at the church, her eyes shining in the cold, and presses her lips together as she takes in a shaky breath. "My friend...who died...Matthew. He knew the Bible inside and out, and one day he started to question everything."
You think you know where this is going, but you don't want to interrupt her when she's letting out emotions she has clearly kept inside for years.
"We moved around a lot when I was younger, because of my mom's postings, and when you're 15, it's really hard to get accepted."
She's silent for a few moments and you take the opportunity to fill in the gaps for her, so she doesn't have to say it out loud. "You got pregnant?"
She nods, taking a deep breath. "Matthew wasn't the father. It-it was...something else. But I didn't know what to do. He told me to talk to our priest, but he just said that if I had an abortion, I wasn't welcome in his congregation."
Your throat tightens with tears and you blink them back, swallowing thickly. "What did you do?"
"Matthew found a doctor." Her arms tighten around her abdomen, and she lets out a small shiver. "He took me there, and he stayed with me. Then, when we got back, he held my hand and walked me into the church." Her voice cracks as she continues. "Father Gamino actually stopped his sermon, but Matthew told me to hold my head up and we walked to the front pew."
Her arms fall then, and you look up to see the wetness on her cheeks, pink from the cold. "Matthew saved my life. He made me feel like I was worthy of...love, and friendship, but then his anger and questioning started." She finally looks at you, and her eyes are wide with grief and anguish. "He saved me, and it's my fault that his life unraveled."
You're shaking your head before she's even finished speaking. "Em, honey, it's not your fault. He was your friend. He loved you, and everything he did for you was his choice. Anything he discovered after that was already within him."
Another tear falls down her cheek and you reach forward to pull her into a hug that she accepts gratefully. "You're one of the strongest people I know."
Her hands clutch the back of your coat as she cries silently into your shoulder, and you don't let go until she finally stops shaking.
***
Hotch is ending a phone call when you step into his office. He sets it down and nods when you step inside, but you can see the lines of tension just in the way he's standing.
"Is everything alright?" you ask, walking inside and standing in front of his desk. "What was that call about?"
He doesn't look up. "Shaunessy died last night."
"Oh, Aaron, I'm so sorry." You squeeze his forearm over the desk, but he still won't look at you. "He was your first boss here at the BAU, right?"
He nods, before clearing his throat and straightening his back. "He was sick. This isn't a surprise, but there's something else we may need to talk about-"
He's interrupted by JJ coming into his office, a case file in hand. "Sorry, but you wanted to know immediately about any unusual Boston homicides?"
You see his jaw twitch as he takes the file from her and flips it open, scanning the first page quickly. JJ glances over at you, a confused expression on her face, but you can only shrug.
He looks up after a minute. "We're going to Boston."
JJ sputters. "Wha-what, but we haven't been invited?"
"We will be." He grabs his coat and sidesteps the two of you, before booking it out of his office. You're hot on his heels as he grabs his briefcase and alerts the team that they need to be ready to leave within the hour.
"What was that about?" Morgan asks, turning to you.
You shrug again. "I have no idea." You turn to the glass doors swinging shut behind him, and rush outside before you can second guess your actions.
"Aaron!" you call out, forcing him to hold the elevator for you. "Tell me what's going on."
He sighs as you step inside, and he sets the briefcase on the floor. "It's the Boston Reaper. He's back."
"The Reaper?" The name sends a shudder through your body. "That was your first case as a profiler, wasn't it?"
He nods, and you wait for him to continue. "He offered Shaunessy a deal that if he shut down the investigation, then he would stop killing."
His words take a moment to register, but then your face falls. "He took the deal. And now that he's dead..."
"The Reaper has started killing again."
***
The next crime scene comes in the form of an older couple, who were killed in their car on the side of the street. When you arrive, you discover that the unsub left behind the previous victim's watch, as well as a note.
You sidle up next to Hotch, bumping your shoulder against his to alert him to your presence. "Looks like he went through her purse. Any idea what he was looking for?"
He's so focused on the letter in his hands that he doesn't respond, so you lean in and read it from beside his shoulder. "The question mark is new."
"It's for us," he says suddenly, dropping his hand and looking at you. "He's saying it's not fate. He's saying we had 10 years to save them and that these latest ones are on us."
You frown, trying to scrutinize the lines of tension on his face. "You got all that from one question mark?"
"I may know him better than I've let on."
Your brow furrows and you grab his wrist, bringing his attention back to you. "What does that mean? Aaron?"
"It means that there is a profile on The Reaper."
"You said you were called off before you could make one-"
"We were," he cuts you off, shaking his head. "I had just started the profile, and then he stopped killing, so officially we were done, but..."
You purse your lips. "But this case stuck with you."
He nods. "I kept coming back to it over the years, and I worked on it alone."
You can imagine young Hotch, in his first years at the bureau, poring over the case file late into the night, because he couldn't put it away when the unsub was still out there. You realize, all of a sudden, that it reminds you of Gideon.
Looking up at him, you release his wrist, letting your fingers drag on his pulse for a moment before letting go. "We need to hear your profile."
***
After he gives the profile alone, you all head back to the hotel to get some rest before the long days ahead of you. In your heart of hearts, you know that no one will really be sleeping tonight, least of all Hotch, so you go up to his room with him to keep working on the case.
"Can you imagine living with the fear that the man who killed your fiancee, and nearly killed you, is still out there?" Your question is mostly rhetorical, but Hotch still lets out a soft grunt from the bed where he's poring over crime scene photos from the last few victims.
"It explains why Foyet went so underground," he says with a frown. "The multiple residences under different names, always taking the bus...I just wish he had taken us up on moving him to a safe house."
"I think that's actually the one part I do understand," you muse, looking up from the file on your lap. "Part of the reason why I came back from my dad's house so soon after Jeff died was because I needed everything to return to normal. I needed my life back."
He glances up at you then with a slight raise of his eyebrow and you shake your head before looking back down. It's okay. Not now.
He looks like he wants to say something, but then the hotel room phone goes off, piercing the air with a high ringing sound. He gets off the bed and picks it up, answering with a stern, "Hotchner."
He's silent at first, but you only look up when you hear him say, "You've misjudged me. I'm the guy who hunts guys like you...I'll see you soon." He slams the phone down on the receiver, and even though you know exactly what that was, you still need him to say it.
"Hotch, what was that?"
He rubs a hand over his face, pacing back and forth across the small space in front of you.
"Was that him?"
He doesn't respond, instead mumbling something under his breath that you can't make out. You stand up and cross the room, before grabbing his forearms so he's forced to look at you. "Aaron! What did he say?"
His eyes are frantic as he finally meets your eye. "He offered me the same deal...and I didn't take it."
***
"Six bodies, not including the driver. He put 'em down with the gun and finished them off with his knife."
The scene inside the bus is horrifying. Blood is dripping from each of the seats, and the words "No Deal", along with a series of numbers, are painted in blood on the windows.
Rossi comes up beside you as you watch Hotch survey the scene, an eerie stillness to his composure. "What's going on with him?"
You glance at him, before turning back to Hotch. "The Reaper called him at his room tonight, offering the deal...and he hung up on him."
Rossi nods, before patting your arm and stepping around you. He nods at Hotch, grabbing his attention away from the scene he hasn't been able to look away from for minutes. "Y/N told me what happened earlier. So, what, you think this is your fault?"
"It is." His voice is shakier than you'd expect based on the resolution in his choice of words.
"Okay," Rossi shrugs, reaching for the gun in his holster. "Here, use mine." Your brow furrows and you step forward, making sure you're nearby in case this gets out of hand. You love Dave, but he can be a bit heavy-handed sometimes.
"You convinced me," he continues, shoving his hand forward. Hotch shakes his head, but he doesn't let up. "No, no, you hung up on him. You practically killed them yourself. Go ahead, get it over with. Don't worry about us. We'll get this guy without you."
Hotch closes his eyes for a moment, and when he opens them, they're shining with tears. You realize, with a shock, that you haven't seen him cry in decades. Not since the day after his father's funeral when Sean shut himself in his room for hours, because he truly believed that his brother didn't care about their family.
When he looks at Rossi again, a few tears have fallen down his cheeks. "I had ten years to do something about it."
"Look," he says simply, lowering his gun, "if you want to end up like Shaunessy, like Gideon, blaming yourself for everything, then you go ahead. But that voice in your head, it's not your conscience. It's your ego."
Hotch deflates, and you reach forward to wrap your fingers around his wrist, maintaining a steady connection. He looks at you, and you dip your chin into a tiny nod. It's not always your fault.
He looks back at Dave with a heavy sigh, but he doesn't pull his hand from your grasp. "You can put that away now."
Rossi raises his eyebrows as he tucks the gun away. "You sure?"
Hotch shakes his head, unable to hide his smile, and you let out a little chuckle. "It's a little dramatic, don't you think?"
"My wife always said I had a flair for the dramatic."
You and Hotch speak up at the same time. "Which one?"
Rossi shrugs. "All of them."
You laugh, before squeezing Aaron's wrist once more and letting go.
***
George Foyet is the Reaper.
You can't believe it even as the words circle around your brain. The team was able to catch him before he killed Colson, the journalist who wrote a book about him, but the victory still doesn't feel sweet.
I'm gonna be more famous than you even realize.
His last words before Derek cuffed him and handed him off to the police. They won't leave your head even as you step off the elevator into the office. Emily and JJ are chatting about some new restaurant in town as they step out ahead of you, and you walk to your desk in a trance, unable to figure out why you aren't able to let out the breath you've been holding since you left for Boston.
Your question is answered when JJ runs back from her office a few minutes later, her phone clutched in her hand and a panicked expression on her face. "Foyet escaped."
***
It takes a while for Derek to get over the Foyet news. He took his badge and credentials when he knocked him out, and even with the replacement he was given, you know the knowledge that Foyet is out there is still irking at him.
Hotch isn't much better. He's been throwing himself into work extra hard, and you're worried he's going to burn out or simply combust if he keeps at it.
This is exactly what Foyet wants, you want to scream. He's trying to get in your heads and mess with your life, without even being here.
But you don't say it.
***
He's been so immersed in work that he doesn't really get to talk to you until a case in Oregon, where an unsub has been killing people by hitting them with his car.
You're grabbing a cup of coffee at the local police station, pouring in an uncharacteristic packet of sugar, when he approaches you, perching on the edge of the counter. "Sugar?"
"I know," you sigh, tossing the empty packet into the trash can next to you. "I just wanted something a little sweeter today."
"Can't argue with that," he says softly, making you smile. It drops almost as fast as it appeared, and he scoots closer as he hands you a wooden stirrer. "How are you holding up?"
This case can't be easy for you, especially knowing how your mom died. You don't talk about it often, but when you do, he can tell it's because you need to let it out. He's the same way with his father, only the feelings he is hiding from are different.
"I'm fine," you say quickly, like it's an automatic response. You both know it's a lie, and you close your eyes for a beat, dropping the stirrer into your cup. "I should be fine, but...I don't know." He follows your gaze over to the open case file across the table, and notices how your eyes hang on the crime scene photos. The car wreckage. The tread marks on the road. "I don't know why this case is affecting me so much. I didn't even see the crash when my mom died."
He reaches forward and closes the file. "Grief works in interesting ways." If there's anything he has the authority to speak on, it's grief. But then again, so do you. He doesn't know if he would've gotten through the aftermath of his father's death without you. Thinking about it now, he doesn't think he's told anyone else the whole truth about his family. "Anything can be a trigger."
"What was your trigger?" you ask suddenly, turning to look at him. "After your dad died?" Your eyes are full of curiosity, and for a moment, he wonders again if you really can read his mind.
He takes a deep breath before answering. "For a while, almost everything was. The smell of his beer, the material of his favorite coat...it all made me so angry."
"I remember," you whisper, setting your coffee down, "but soon after, that changed." You look at him with a small smile. "You met Haley."
His jaw twitches and he realizes that he wasn't even thinking about her. The first person that came to mind when he thought about his healing process was you. Haley was everything to him, but she wasn't built for the life he grew up with. She wouldn't have been able to understand the rage flowing through his body when he thought of his father's death. The anger and hurt he felt, that somehow always transformed to guilt when he went back home for the night.
"Yeah," he says after a moment, accepting your judgment, even if it is a lie. He doesn't want to talk about this anymore, so he diverts back to the original subject. "Your mother was different. She loved you exactly how you deserved to be loved. Even if it hurts sometimes, it's just a reminder that you had something great."
That makes you smile, and he feels warmth fill his chest. "Yeah, I guess you're right."
He nods, patting your knee. "It's been known to happen."
***
You're in the passenger seat next to Derek when you see it. You watch him swerve his SUV into the unsub's truck in real time, but you still don't believe what you're seeing until the cars come to a stop, smoke billowing out of the front.
Derek screeches to a stop and there's glass everywhere as you throw yourself out of the SUV and race towards the collision site.
Aaron is stumbling out of his car when you reach him. There's a gash on his forehead, dripping blood down his face, and another on his arm. He tries to reach for his gun, but you grab his arms, holding him against the SUV.
"Sorry," he mutters through gritted teeth as you reach up to swipe the blood off his forehead before it falls into his eye. Your hand stays on his face as you survey the rest of him for any other wounds that may need your attention.
Once you're certain that he'll be okay, you turn back to him with a glare. "You scared the shit out of me." Your thumb is unconsciously rubbing circles on his jaw as he looks down at you. You are well aware that danger comes with the job description, but he also knows you would kill him if he ever put himself in serious danger, especially when it wasn't necessary. "Don't ever do that again."
He takes a deep breath as you pick a piece of glass out of his hair. When you return to meet his gaze, he reaches out to grab the strap of your vest. "I'm sorry."
You tug each other forward into a hug at seemingly the same time. You don't get the chance to be careful with his wounds as you collide into his chest, but you forget about everything else the moment his arms close around you. He's okay. He's alive.
"You don't get to die on me," you whisper into his collarbone as you tighten your grip around him. "Promise me."
You know it's not fair. You know it's not something he can control, especially with the kinds of people you chase on a daily basis, but it doesn't matter, because he knows you. He knows when you need the facts, and when you need reassurance, so instead of uttering a funny quip or a painful truth, he just says, "I promise."
***
Are you sure it's okay that I'm coming?
You type back a response as soon as you see the message on your phone. Of course. Dave invited you and Jack, and I would love to see you too.
A few minutes later, you get a simple Ok, so you set your phone down on the table and stand up to join the rest of your friends. With summer around the corner, Dave wanted to host a garden party, and after the last few months, you definitely don't mind the respite.
"Come get some more food," he tells you the moment you approach them by the edge of his huge yard. He's standing with Derek, Spencer, and Penelope by a long table adorned with steaming dishes of bread, pasta, and salad.
"I'll explode if I eat any more," you say with a laugh as Spencer stuffs another piece of bread into his mouth. For a small as he looks, he can be a bottomless pit when it comes to good food. "Have you guys seen Hotch?"
"He isn't here yet," Penelope notes as Derek wraps an arm around her. "I'll keep an eye out though."
"Do you think he'll bring Haley and Jack?" Spencer asks as JJ approaches with Henry in her arms.
"I told her to come," you say, tickling the baby's chin with the tip of your finger. "It'll be nice to see everyone together."
As though conjured by their questions, the door to the backyard opens and Jack steps out with Haley and Hotch right behind him.
"You're here!" You walk across the lawn and give her a quick hug, before bending down and lifting Jack into the air. "What's up, Jack-o-lantern? You're so big now."
"Yeah," he giggles, wrapping his arms around your neck. You press a loud kiss to the side of his head and he bursts into a fit of giggles as you tickle his belly with your free hand.
"I'm so glad you made it," Dave says from behind you as he comes over and gives Haley a hug. "We love having you here."
She raises her eyebrow at Hotch, but there's no intention behind it. Divorce seems to have treated them well, reminding them of all of the good that was there before everything else got in the way. "Thank you for inviting us."
"Seriously, thank you," Hotch agrees, before reaching out to take Jack from your arms.
"Any time," Dave says sincerely, before nodding at him. "Come help me grab some more wine from the cellar."
They disappear into the house, and you pull Haley down with you into two of the chairs by the edge of the sprawling yard. "Hotch and Jack are sweet together."
She nods, looking wistfully at the door. "He loves any time he gets with his dad."
"It can't be easy," you say slowly, hoping you aren't breaching a boundary unknown to you. "I've seen firsthand how busy the job has been getting recently. I haven't been home before midnight in over a week."
She's silent for a moment, and you worry that you crossed the line, but then she just smiles. "He's trying so hard...and that's all I can really ask for, isn't it?"
You suppose she's right. Not everyone is lucky enough to find a person who fights as hard as Aaron does to get home to his family at the end of the day.
"You're good for him, you know." You look at her as she crosses one leg over the other. "You always have been."
"You are too."
"I know," she says, before shaking her head. Her expression is warm as she smiles at you. "It's not the same, though. Even when you weren't around, you were in everything he did."
You don't know exactly where she's going with this, and you're acutely aware of the choruses of laughter floating over to you from across the lawn as she reaches out to squeeze your arm. "He loves you."
Your face transforms into what you imagine is a look of confusion. "I love him, too. He's my best friend."
Haley looks at you for a moment, before shaking her head with a nearly inscrutable sigh. "Anyway, thanks for convincing me to come. I'm gonna get some food."
~
Eventually, the sun sets, and the string lights in Dave's backyard turn on, along with the soft sounds of Ella Fitzgerald and Sam Cooke. He helps Derek and Will push the tables and chairs aside to make room for a dance floor, and soon, Haley is in his arms as they swing along to the lilting tunes filtering out over the yard.
It feels natural, dancing with her like this, but at the same time, he knows it's different now. He holds her firmly as she tilts in his arms, loose from the wine that Dave made sure was pouring all night, and she lets him swing her around the lawn, no care in the world.
Soon, the song changes, and she looks at him with a dreamy smile. "You love this song."
It's a soft tune by Sam Cooke, one he can't remember the name of right now, but he smiles at her as he nods. "I'm glad you're here. You and Jack."
"I missed you all," she says, before cracking a smile. "Mostly just Y/N though."
That makes him laugh, and before he knows it, Dave is walking over, with you on his hand, asking to trade partners for the song. "I haven't gotten to talk to Haley all night."
It's not the best excuse, but Haley doesn't seem to mind at all. "Of course, I'd love to dance."
Dave whisks her away, and Hotch holds a hand out for you, pulling you into another steady swing.
"I love this song," you whisper as the two of you fall into a rhythm. "I Wish You Love."
Right, that's what it's called. His hand settles on your waist as you grip his shoulder, and he can tell you've had a bit of wine too, but only because of the red tint of your cheeks.
"This is nice," you say after a few beats of silence. "We don't get to do this often."
He nods, turning you to make room for Derek and Emily, who are swinging heartily across the yard. "It's nice to see the kids together." He glances over your shoulder to peer at JJ, who has Henry and Jack in each of her arms. She has jumped head first into motherhood, and it suits her.
The song changes to something a little slower, so he steers you to the edge of the dance floor, taking control as your feet glide after him. Maybe you've had a bit more wine than he first assumed.
The thought makes him chuckle and you look at him with a quizzical expression. "What's so funny?"
"Nothing." He shakes his head, and clasps your hand tighter to hold you to him. He glances over your shoulder again and finds an excuse for his laughter almost immediately. "Garcia is trying to teach Reid how to dance."
You tug his arm immediately, spinning the two of you around so you can see the situation he described, and your face breaks out into a wide grin when you spot them a few paces over. "The poor kid has no coordination."
As you watch them dance, he watches you. The way the string lights glance over your exposed shoulders. The sparkle of your eyes under the waning moonlight. He realizes, not for the first time, how beautiful you are.
He could give himself the usual excuse, that it's just the time of the night, or the single glass of red he drank a few hours ago, but tonight, he lets himself just be there.
You're his best friend, and he loves you. He's here, dancing around the grass with some of his closest companions, and you're with him. For once, he can just be.
***
You can't the pile of shoes out of your head. Derek and Emily were able to find the girl before Lucas Turner killed her, but even after arresting him and getting her back to her mother, the case is still sticking with you.
89 pairs of shoes.
You shake the thought from your head as you get into Hotch's car in the field office parking lot. He insisted on driving you home after seeing the look on your face in the plane, and for once, you didn't argue with him.
"I can't stop thinking about them," you whisper as he pulls out of the lot. "So many lives that are forever changed because of two men."
You saw how Derek reacted when he found the box of muddy shoes. You saw JJ's face after she had to shoot Hightower for murdering the man who experimented on his sister.
"I'm thinking of giving everyone a few days off," he says, glancing over at you. "We all need some time to get away from this job. I'll put the request in tomorrow morning."
You nod, unable to voice your opinion. You feel depleted, without having even witnessed the horrors you know occurred up on that farm.
It takes a second, but eventually you regain the ability to speak. "Do you think it's worth it?" Your voice feels like sandpaper, but the question hurts more than anything else. "This life, I mean."
He mulls it over, and you notice his grip tighten on the steering wheel in front of him. "I think it has to be." Your brow furrows, and you don't know whether you want to scream or cry at how terrible that answer feels right now, but he isn't finished. "We have put too much of ourselves into this job to allow us to forget about all of the good that has come out of it too. If we choose to forget the good, then none of it means anything."
You look at him in wonder, realizing he has voiced exactly what you needed to hear. You're constantly awestruck by how he always seems to know exactly what to say to bring back your sense of purpose.
"You're good at this whole leadership thing," you say softly, cracking a smile when he looks at you. "You help me grow."
He pushes you just hard enough to help you transform into something so much bigger and better than you hoped you could be. His chin dips and he turns back to the road as your neighborhood comes into view. "You help me grow too."
You lean your cheek on your palm as you snuggle further into the seat. "I called Josh Cramer, over at organized crime."
His eyebrows raise with surprise and he glances over at you. "Jeff's old boss? How did that go?"
During your last interaction at the BAU office all those years ago, you weren't ready to see him yet. He still reminded you of the hate and anger and guilt you felt over Jeff's death.
The last few months have been kinder to you, though. It doesn't hurt as much when you think about him.
"It went well," you sigh, looking out the window at the houses passing by. "Even though it'll never really be the same, it felt more like old times, if that makes any sense."
"It does," he says simply, providing you an acknowledgement before letting you fill in the spaces yourself.
You take a deep breath, feeling the air fill your lungs, before letting it out again. "He told me a story from before Jeff went undercover. It was just a dumb story about some night his team went out for burgers after wrapping up a case." Your breaths get shallower, but the tears you are expecting don't come. "Apparently, he made the team go to three different burger spots, because he wanted to bring me back curly fries, and none of the places were selling the kind I like."
You clear your throat to dispel the tightness, and when you look back at him, the car has come to a stop in front of your house.
"That sounds like him," Hotch says, smiling at you as you chuckle to yourself.
You nod, closing your eyes for a beat. "I guess I just wanted to say that, yeah, our lives are sometimes changed inalterably, but...it's not always bad. I met him, I loved him...and then I lost him, but I still wouldn't take back any of it."
His eyes crinkle and he looks out the windshield for a brief second. "Me neither."
It's already late, and you don't want to take up any more of his night, so you bid him goodbye and shut your door after making him promise to actually get some rest.
Your front door shuts behind you, and you hear the sound of his car driving off as you exhale heavily. Your house feels big with you here alone, but for once, you revel in the solitude. Finally, a few days of peace and quiet.
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#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner x fem!reader#hotch x reader#hotch x female!reader#aaron hotchner#hotch#criminal minds#penelope garcia#spencer reid#derek morgan#jennifer jareau#emily prentiss#david rossi#aaron hotchner fic#aaron hotchner series#criminal minds series#criminal minds season four#hotch fic#criminal minds fanfiction#anchor series#anchor
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hiiii!! can i request aaron hotchner x bau!reader where reader gets sooo jealous of the women flirting (or trying to flirt) with him (at jacks soccer games, when they’re away on a case or when he did that fbi triathlon)? i’m curious to see how you think she’ll react and what aaron will say when he realises she’s jealous 🤭🤭
Hii, thank u for this request, lovely!🥰Warnings: pet names, mentions of food (kind of), like one kiss, (1k)
It's not your first time at one of Jack's soccer games. But it is your first time witnessing what is happening in front of you.
The other kid's moms are ogling Aaron like he is some kind of famous painting hanging in Louvre (which you can't really blame them for). They also keep smiling and waving flirtiously anytime he looks over their way.
And it is even worse, when you realise, they are all dressed up, make up done with pretty clothes on. It looks like they dressed up just for him. It causes a pang in your heart.
You didn't think about wearing anything special, as you dressed up this Saturday morning for Jack's match. Compared to them you look like a bag of potatoes, you with the loose jeans and a comfy hoodie on.
It makes you feel kind of anxious, but you also feel one even more intense feeling, which can be only described as jealousy.
But you didn't come here to be angry at ridiculous moms, you came to watch Jack score some goals and see him have fun. Which is exactly what you force yourself to do now. Occasionally, your gaze slips from Jack to Aaron, but most of the match you just cheer Jack on loudly.
During the half-time, you fight the want to go to Aaron. You don't want to distract him from his coaching duties, even if it's a friendly match between the kids.
So you stay seated, still having to see and listen to those moms. They even started to talk about how hot and handsome Aaron is, which has you squirming in your seat uncomfortably. You can't decide if you want to run away from them or if you want to go tell them off from talking about your Aaron.
But you don't, you power through the second half of the match, but the urge to go say some very rude things to them doesn't dissappear.
Finally you hear the whistle, signaling the end of the match. And while the kids shake their hands with happy faces, you sheepishly walk towards the bench. Aaron is standing next to it and when he notices you walking his way, his whole face lights up.
"Hi," you greet him, you smile at him, but it's not your usual big smile.
Aaron immediately picks up on it, but he doesn't say anything. He just opens his arms, inviting you to hug him, which you gladly do.
"Hi, honey," he quickly kisses your temple, "Did you have fun?" You've come separately here, having slept at your on place for a change.
"Not as much as Jack," you grin at him, "oh, before i forget, I've brought a little snack for the kids." You gesture at the big bag in your hand, it's full of juice boxes.
"Ah, you shouldn't have, the kids will want it every time you come here now," he teases you.
"Yeah, well I wouldn't mind getting them something every time," you respond. Aaron knows that you wouldn't mind, because you are the biggest sweetheart on the earth, which is one of the many reasons why he loves you.
You are grinning at him, when suddenly your smile dissappears and you start to frown. Aaron has never before seen that kind of frown on you.
"What's wrong?" he questions, eyebrows drawn up.
"Nothing, i just thought of something, " you murmur, but your frown deepens. And it doesn't take Aaron long to find out the reason behind your scowl.
He notices you frown more and more every time, one of the other moms speak near by. So he puts 2 and 2 together.
"Did those moms say something to you?" He asks you with stern voice, because if they did, he won't hesitate to go talk to them.
"No, it's just...," you feel rather embarrassed to say it now, "they talked about...-about you."
"About me? What did they say?" he puzzles, he hopes, that it isn't something to do with his coaching.
"Oh come on Aaron, you must know what I mean," you whine with slight frustration, it is clearly not directed at him but at them. Still you are a bit annoyed by his cluelessness.
"I really don't know, tell me?"
You sigh, "t-they talked about how hot and handsome you are, how they would love to go out with you. They waved and smiled at you basically the entire game," you grumble it silently. Face scrunched up in vexation.
"Really?" he asks, surprised.
"You must have noticed it by now."
"Well, I haven't," he tells you honestly, "I am too busy giving instructions to the kids and," he pulls you towards him by the sleeve of your hoodie," I am too distracted by you, to notice those silly women."
His words, as always, have you blushing, "Yeah?"
"Oh most definitely, have you looked in a mirror lately, sweetheart? Nothing compares to you and for sure not those moms," he playfully jabs his finger into your side, but his words are as sincere as they can be.
And after he says that, he quickly looks over to those moms to make sure they are looking and kisses you hard. It catches you off guard, but when you kiss him back, your kiss is just as eager as his.
When you pull away, he whispers against your lips, devilish smile on his face," I don't think you need to be jealous anymore, honey. I think, they understand now, that I only have my eyes for one person, that is you." The only thing you can do as a response to that, is to hide your red face in his neck.
You shyly smile at his words and inside you are beaming, happy that Aaron showed off your relationship even if he isn't the biggest fan of the pda. And you are a little, and i mean a lot, proud that he showed you off like that, because the irritation on those women's faces was priceless.
"I love you," you whisper bashful into his skin.
"I know, sweetheart. I love you, too," he responds warmly, "now let's go quickly hand out the snacks to the kids and get that breakfast, before those moms burn a whole into our faces."
#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner x fem!reader#aaron hotchner fluff#aaron hotchner angst#aaron hotchner fanfiction#aaron hotchner imagine#aaron hotchner x you#aaron hotchner
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hi sweets! i hope you're having a nice day, i came through this instagram reel https://www.instagram.com/reel/C3LZd7tORv9/?igsh=MzRlODBiNWFlZA== and immediately thought of babygirl hotchner getting home from pre school and running around the house saying the new (cuss) word she learned from school that she probably got from another kid and reader just found it silly but aaron was 🤨😦😧 and was so protective so he tells reader that he'll call the school but R was honey nooo let's just teach her that it's not right to say that word. !! girl dad aaron is everything 🥰
hi lovely! i hope you're having a good day as well!! 🫶🏻 omg and i love that
can you imagine the look of SHOCK that forms on aaron's face when he hears that word leave his little girl 😭😭😭
like he's sitting in the home office, getting some work done, he can hear the distant sounds of jack and baby girl playing, maybe you're conversing back with them from time to time. at some point - baby girl runs past his room and in the distance along with the sound of her footsteps, he hears a "fuck!" LOL 😭😭😭
aaron urgently exits the room all ??????????????, finds you with that shocked expression still on his face, aka a silent "did you also just hear what i think i just heard????"
hehe your eyes are wide too after hearing the word exit your daughter, but you laugh gently and are like "yeah we should probably address that" 😭
baby girl is still running around the house, still swearing - aaron manages to catch her mid-run; and the two of you take her aside, sit with her on the couch. a safe, understanding setting, since she's not in trouble.
🥺 baby girl is sat comfortably on his lap and aaron looks down at her with that gentle look in his eyes (y'all know the one). with his soft solid dad voice™, he asks her where she heard that word, and she (very proudly) answers preschool 🥺😭
you recognize the look in aaron's eyes, the i'm-about-to-call-the-school-in-scary lawyer/fbi fashion- you wave it off and shush him before turning to your daughter to lightly explain, "we don't say those kind of words🥺 not at school, not at home. it's not a very kind to say so please don't say it again" and baby girl, being the sweet one she is, brightly smiles and says "okay!" :D before giving aaron a quick hug and slides off his lap in search of jack to continue playing <3
hehe after she's gone, aaron's still very tense and very 🤨 - not lightening up or really laughing over it, like he still wants to call the school. you simply kiss the grumpy look off his face and assure him it's alright :) kids are kids!! we just need to teach her ourselves <33
#let's talk aaron <333333#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner imagine#criminal minds#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds imagine
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ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ❝ darling, lean your weight to me ❞ ─ a darling, in any life blurb
pairing: aaron hotchner x reader.
summary: the red thread between two people destined to be together may stretch and tangle, but those ties will never break. or: aaron finds a way to show you his commitment to you.
content warnings: suggestive make out. you might think he's a bit ooc and if you do i want you to know you're wrong.
word count: 1.1k
you made sure to check your phone twice for the time, it was way too damn late to have someone at your door, midnight and you were already drifting into beautiful relaxing dreams when the sound of the doorbell woke you up. you couldn't even deny you were a bit scared, you were a woman living alone after all. you took your phone with you ready to call the cops, even if you really wanted to be able to call aaron, or that he was already there with you like he was supposed to.
the dinner reservations he had made fell through when a case took longer than he expected, so now you were about to face a stranger in your front door alone. or so you thought, as the face you saw through the peep hole was of the handsome, but obviously tired, man of your literal dreams.
you unlocked the door and hushed him in, hugging him tightly after closing it again. "what are you doing here, airhead? you look exhausted."
"not quite the reception i was waiting for." he comments, leaving his go bag and a brown paper one on your couch, going back to your embrace to kiss you.
you only hummed to his teasing. obviously happy he was there, but not only surprised, worried about his health. he was indeed tired, taking time to rest his head on yours and stay like that, enjoying your scent and your warmth against his chest. he had his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, blazer and tie nowhere to be seen, first two buttons undone. gorgeous. a sight to be taken in, the dark bags under his eyes only made him sexier, it reminded you the importance of his work, the commitment he had to it.
“care to explain yourself?” you look up to him, keeping your arms around his waist for a moment before touching his features softly, hand to his cheek. aaron leans on it, eyes closed.
“we had a date. i’m just late to it."
you felt like you could combust maybe, the sweetness not only on his voice but of his actions were almost too much for you to handle, “you know you didn’t have to do this, right? i understand you were busy, babe.”
“it wasn’t trouble, and i missed you.” he did miss you, and you didn’t have to know he had to make last minute arrangements so the jet could leave him in arlington’s city airport, not to mention getting a taxi. what you did have to know and he wanted to make sure you did, was how much he cared about you and how much he wanted to be present with you when he could. he needed to show you he was committed to that.
that's why dinner was important tonight, he had planned it perfectly, the restaurant, the wine, he even went as far as to ask both spencer and garcia for a bit of help with showing his intentions just right. it has been a few weeks of you two going out, weekends together, late nights. he wanted to keep you, but asking a woman to be his girlfriend at 43 seemed childish, and also not enough for what he wanted to convey.
"i have something for you, love." the sweet pet names were common now, even though you both kept the use of the childhood silly ones to piss each other off. you tilted your head at him waiting for him to continue and his glanced the brown paper bag you had forgotten was in your couch. aaron usually didn't gift without reason, physical touch and acts of service were much more prominent from him, you were excited if not a tiny bit suspicious.
"did i forget any special date?" you wonder as he pulls you to the couch with him, sitting right beside the bag and instructing you to sit by his side. aaron dismissed your question with a simple shake of his head, getting a thin velvet box from the bag, by the size you knew it wasn't a ring, thankfully.
"i just wanted to give you something. to cement my commitment... to you." you were speechless as he opened the box, a beautiful golden necklace, delicate, a white small pendant in the form of a heart, framed by the same gold of the necklace. "it's uh... a mother of pearl. garcia helped me with it." aaron took it out of the box and gestured you to turn around, which you gladly did, taking your hair out of his way. he kept explaining it while you touched the pendant lightly as he put it on you. "it can symbolize loyalty, which is what i want you to know you'll always have from me." loyalty. something you didn't get from your cheating ex, definitely. commitment. this was the equivalent of getting a promise ring as a teen.
you didn't even have words to thank him, or to show him how beautiful the gift, the thought behind it... everything was. so you just pulled him by his collar into your lips, the kiss getting saltier by the second as happy tears went down your cheek. his fingers go to wipe them away as he pulls himself from you, his lips brushing against your forehead before taking something else from the paper bag.
"and as you say, i'm still a sap, so i got these bracelets as well." two black woven bracelets in hand, you had given him an extremely colorful one back in the day, something to solidify your friendship. you remember as clear as day as he accepted it and let you put it on his wrist even with complaints about it being too bright. "got it in black, i'm not wearing that awful mix of colors you got us last time." aaron secured it in your wrist this time, handing you the other one to do the same to him.
"they were in style, okay!" you defend yourself as you wrapped it tight on his wrist. "i love it, you know you didn't have to do any of this. but i love that you did." you held him with both your hands and spent some time kissing every single corner of his face before getting to his lips.
his deep need for control getting the best of him as you were pulled to his lap, straddling him as he deepens the kiss, hands splitting attention between gripping your thigh and tugging your hair. "aar—" a high moan replaces his name from your lips as he pushes you down on his crotch. "it's late—you need to shower and sleep"
"fine. wise ass." he sounds exasperated, his head hitting the back of your couch. he knew you were right. but his smirk as he looked back at you told otherwise. "but you're coming with me."
#lari writes sometimes#aaron x reader#aaron x you#aaron hotch x reader#aaron hotch x you#aaron hotch imagine#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner x you#aaron hotchner imagine#criminal minds x reader
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Something More
Prompt: Something More by Sugarland
Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader
Warnings: Pregnancy
Requested by: ANON
You’re in the front yard, planting daffodils when the car pulls up. It takes you a few minutes to get to your feet, your pregnant belly makes movement more difficult these days. You glance over at the porch where Jack is playing cars with James. Despite being twelve years older than his younger brother, Jack never complains about spending time with his baby brother. In fact, he loves being a big brother. It’s why you’re pregnant again. Jack is in desperate want of another sibling, and Aaron had been in desperate want of a third kid.
You let out a breath once you’re upright. You turn to face the people coming up your walkway, and then you hear Jack yell, “UNCLE DAVE!”
You pause at that, and everything clicks together as you watch a group of people exit the car. These people are your husband’s former team. You watch as Jack’s head swivels between his two year old brother and the people who had been his honorary aunts and uncles. You toss your head towards them and head up the stairs of the porch.
You hold out your hand for James, who happily takes it and lead him inside while Jack hugs everyone. You find Aaron on the couch surrounded by the papers he’s grading. “Aaron.” His head shoots up and he smiles at you. “You have visitors.”
His brow furrows, before he gets off the couch he peers out the window and a very serious look comes over his face. You’ve never seen him look that serious. You place a hand on his arm, and some of the tension eases from his body.
James tugs on his pants leg, and he swoops down and picks him up. He settles a giggly James on his shoulders before ducking out the front door. You watch from the doorway. You had met Aaron nearly four years ago. Of course, back then you had known him as James. He’d been your next-door neighbor; a handsome and kind single dad. He’d been older than you, but you’d been infatuated.
It had taken a few months for him to warm up to you. A month after that he’d accepted your invitation to dinner. There were things that didn’t make sense about his life, but you had a feeling he was being as honest as he could. It was only when you’d found yourself accidentally pregnant that he had sat down and told you the truth of everything. You’d been surprised when you didn’t feel any anger. You understood the lies and you also knew that there was no way in hell your were giving him or Jack up. And with his cover blown and the two of you tied together, you decided to get married and be enveloped into the witness protection life.
Scratch had been found and captured in your sixth month. You’d been living in a small town in Florida. Aaron hated Florida. And when he got the call there had been a moment of elation, and plans were made to move back to DC and for Aaron to go back to work. And then they stopped. While Aaron still wanted to be back in or near DC he told you he wasn’t going back to the FBI. He was going to take early retirement. When you had asked him why, he simply shrugged and said, “I want something more.”
Your growing little family had moved back to DC and Aaron had gone back into law practice and started teaching at GW. He’d told you a lot about his team, and he’d surprised you when he hadn’t reconnected with his team outside of the job.
You’d asked him about it one night, and while he’d held you close he’d admitted, “I’m scared I’ll get sucked back in. I want to be here for you and Jack and this little one.” His hand had stroked your nine month pregnant belly. And now, here you were two years later and Aaron was finally being reunited with his family.
You watch Aaron and Jack from the window. James is leaning forward, but he isn’t trying to interact with anyone. He’s in the toddler stage where he hates strangers. Instead, he’s clinging to Aaron’s hair. You know for a fact that that isn’t comfortable, the kid has a grip like you wouldn’t believe. There’s a twinge in your back, and you rub at it while Jack gestures towards the house. You take that as your que to head on out.
It’s a bit of a waddle, and Jack is quick to run back and help you down the stairs; your sweet boy. And as you’re enveloped into hugs and greetings you can’t help but wonder how Aaron has stayed away from these people for so long.
Aaron watches you interact with the team. He expects some sort of longing to take over; a desire for the old days. He admits he sometimes misses the weight of his gun on his hip or the feeling of his credentials in his suit pocket. But the overwhelming NEED to be out there chasing the bad guys is gone.
His time in witness protection had allowed him to realize he wanted something more out of life. He didn’t want just a job, he wanted a family. He wanted to be there for Jack, and he had treasured those first few months just the two of them, but Jack had been growing up, and then he’d met you. You’d been an unexpected curve ball life had thrown at him, and he was so grateful. You’d provided him with love and understanding and someone to lean on. You were his sun, and his children were his moon and stars.
And as James pulls on his hair, and Jack and Henry run off to go look at his comic books, and you connect with the team while rubbing your baby bump, he knows that he can be part of this family again, and he can do it without being sucked in. Because he has something more than the job now.
#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner fanfiction#aaron hotchner fanfic#aaron hotch#aaron hotchner#hotch x reader#aaron hotch x reader#criminal minds reader insert#criminal minds fanfic#criminal minds headcannons#criminal minds drabble
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HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO THE BEST BOY AARON HOTCHNER <333
comfortember day two: sweater weather
aaron hotchner x gender neutral reader
it's aaron's birthday and he wants to spend it with you at home.
word count: 2.4k
warnings/content: just pure fluff and a lil mention to sex but not explicit, pet names and one use of y/n, lots of cute kissing. established relationship! <3
comfortember masterlist here!
also on ao3!
lazy day for the birthday boy
The front door opens and in walks Aaron, looking tense. You reach for him immediately, searching his face before wrapping your arms around his shoulders and pulling him into a hug. He holds you tightly, sighing deeply as he relaxes into you. After a minute, he pulls away and presses a soft kiss to your lips, thumbs tracing your jaw as you pull him closer.
“You okay?” You whisper against his lips.
“Mhm.”
“Sure?”
“I am now,” he nods, kissing you again. “Now that I’m with you.”
You can’t help but laugh at that. “Don’t get all corny, Mister.”
He pulls back and laughs along with you, already seeming brighter, as he grabs his go-bag and moves toward the living room, the corners of his eyes crinkling in the way you love. “I thought you liked corny.”
“Maybe I do, maybe I don’t.”
Aaron rolls his eyes at that, throwing you a fond look. “Right. Well, when’s the next time you have work?”
“I have a few days off, I’m back on Monday next week.”
“Me too.”
You raise your eyebrows at him, a smile tugging at your lips. “Aaron Hotchner… are you saying you’re taking a few days off? What’s the special occasion?”
He shrugs. “Just wanted to spend some time with you.”
“Yeah? And are you sure it doesn’t have to do with your birthday coming up soon?”
“No, of course not,” he replies, biting back a smile at being caught.
“You’re actually taking time off?"
Aaron walks toward you and wraps his arms around your waist, tugging you closer and pressing a gentle kiss against your lips. “I am.” He gives you another kiss. “I figured I’d treat myself.”
“And how are you gonna treat yourself?”
“I already told you,” he smiles, pressing his lips against yours once more before pulling you into a hug. “Gonna spend my time with you.” His lips find your temple. “And only you.”
Your heart soars.
***
On the morning of Aaron’s birthday, you intentionally wake up earlier than him to sneak out of bed. It proves harder than you thought it would, having to crawl out from under his warm weight slowly so as to not disturb him, but once you’re standing, you smile down at him. His cheeks are slightly flushed and his lips are pressed together in a small smile, a rare but welcome occurrence.
He looks peaceful.
Forcing yourself to move so that you don’t stand there all day watching him, you make your way to the kitchen to make him a surprise breakfast. Half an hour later, you smile to yourself with pride at the array of food you’ve made. There’s bacon, eggs, sausages, a slice of toast made to the perfect standard, coffee, and some orange juice.
You take a quick picture before grabbing the tray, ready to take it to Aaron in bed when an arm slinks around your waist and a firm body presses against your back. Aaron presses a kiss just below your ear and hums, squeezing you gently. "Something smells nice."
"You were supposed to still be in bed,” you whine, sagging against him.
He chuckles against your skin and presses another tired kiss to your cheek. "I'm sorry, honey. Did I ruin your surprise?"
“Yes,” you reply, placing the tray back on the kitchen table and turning around to wrap your arms around his neck. “You did, actually.”
"I did, huh?"
"Mhm. Happy birthday, by the way."
He smiles at you before kissing you softly. "Thank you. And I promise I didn't look at what you made, I can go back to bed if you want me to."
"You better."
Aaron chuckles and presses one last kiss to your nose before turning and walking back to the bedroom. “I was never here.”
“Right,” you say with a smile, rolling your eyes.
You wait for a few moments before picking up his food and taking it to him, laughing at the sight of him sprawled out on the bed as if in a deep sleep. At the sound of you coming in, he slowly pushes himself up, looking around in confusion and faking a yawn. He reaches up to rub at his eyes, stretching dramatically before sitting up against the headboard. “What’s going on?”
“You’re not gonna believe this,” you start, a smile tugging at your lips as you sit beside him on the edge of the bed and hand him the tray, “but I made you breakfast in bed.”
“Wow,” he replies, grinning like he just won a million bucks. “I never expected this.”
You roll your eyes and lean forward to give him a kiss on the forehead. “That’s the point of a surprise, sweetheart.”
“Right, yeah.”
“So, what do you wanna do today?”
He chews thoughtfully on some egg white. “Spend it in bed?”
You raise an eyebrow, smirking at him. “Oh, yeah?”
“Not like that,” he chuckles, looking down at his food to choose what to pick next. Then it dawns on him and he looks up at you with a cheeky flustered smile. “Well, yeah, definitely like that, but then we can cuddle afterwards.”
“Wow, Aaron, you’re such a gentleman.”
“Aren’t I just?”
***
You wake up later that day, feeling Aaron's warm arms completely wrapped around you, his soft peaceful breaths tickling your neck. Smiling, you press a soft kiss to the top of his head and pull him closer. He shuffles in your arms and lets out a relaxed sigh, pressing his lips against your collarbone.
"Mornin'," he mumbles, voice thick with sleep.
"Mornin', sweetheart. Did you sleep well?"
He grins against your neck. "Mhm. You definitely put me to sleep."
"Was I that bad?" You joke.
He lifts up with a laugh and presses his lips against you, kissing you with so much love you feel like you might melt. "Never."
You kiss him back before pulling away, nuzzling your nose against his. "So, birthday boy, what d'ya wanna do the rest of the day?"
"Can we have a lazy day?"
"Of course," you smile, giving him a kiss. "Lazy day for the birthday boy, that sounds nice. But are you sure you don't wanna go out and get some food or anything? No museum trip or walk in the park?"
"Hm, no," he mumbles, shaking his head and dropping his face into the crook of your neck with a sigh. "I'm always busy; just wanna be here."
You card your hand through his soft hair. "Then we'll stay here. That sound good?"
"Mhm."
"Good."
For the next few hours, you're in and out of consciousness, comfortably and safely wrapped up in each other's arms. Finally, though, after you’ve spent most of the day in bed, you're able to convince Aaron to get up when your stomach growls loudly.
"What should we eat?" He asks, sitting up against the headboard and looking adorable with his messy hair and sleepy expression.
"Could make lasagne, pasta bake, chicken and noodles, maybe even a curry? What do you fancy?"
"Hm," he thinks, his hand running over your bare skin sweetly. "Can we order in?"
"Sure," you smile, pressing your lips to his cheek and grabbing your phone. "Anything in particular?"
"Pizza," he answers immediately, making you laugh. "I haven't had pizza in ages."
"Didn't you say you had pizza last week at work that was really bad?"
"Okay, fine, I haven't had good pizza in ages."
"Then let’s buy you the best pizza there is, honey.”
After much consideration, you decide to buy two large pizzas, one with your favourite toppings and one with Aaron's favourite toppings so that you can share and have enough for the next day when Jack gets home, as well as fries and drinks.
Once the food is ordered, you put your phone down and open your bedside drawer for Aaron's present. He watches you with a raised eyebrow, eyes softening when you pull out a small box. "Honey, you didn't have to get me anything."
"I know." You shuffle around so you're sitting facing him before you give him the box. "But I wanted to. Open it."
He huffs out a laugh and takes the box from you, carefully unwrapping it and staring down at it for a few seconds. For a moment, your stomach drops, thinking he doesn't like it, but then he bites his lip to hide back a smile and you can see him tear up ever so slightly. “I love it.”
“I figured you’d prefer it as a necklace, that way you can wear it at work and it doesn’t get caught on your gun. I mean, I know you could wear it on your hand if you want, but it’s just a promise ring, and I figured that–”
“Honey.”
“I suppose you can wear it however you want and–”
“Hey,” he laughs, taking your face in his large hands and stopping you from rambling on. “I love it as it is. Thank you.” He picks up the ring and turns it over in his fingers, pausing when he finds that it’s been engraved inside with ‘We’re always with you, love Y/N and Jack’. That’s when he begins to tear up, pulling you in for a bone-crushing hug. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.” He presses a kiss to your lips. “I love it so much. Thank you.”
“Do you want me to put it on you?”
“Please,” he replies, kissing you again.
You take the necklace from his hand and move so that you’re mostly behind him, gently putting it on and pressing a kiss to his temple. “There you go, sweetheart.”
“Thank you,” he replies, turning to hold your face softly in his hand and running his thumb over your cheek. “Truly.”
You press a kiss to his nose and laugh before jumping out of bed. “C’mon, let’s go get comfortable on the couch!”
The two of you make your way to the living room, carrying your blankets and pillows and picking out the comfiest sweaters you own so that you can wrap yourselves up. You stick on a movie you're sure Aaron's seen a million times, focusing mostly on his cute face as he watches with complete focus. His head is on your chest and he softly runs his fingers under the hem of your sweater, huffing out a laugh occasionally at the screen.
The doorbell rings and Aaron groans, pushing himself away from you. Before he can stand up properly, you beat him to it, gently pushing him by the shoulder so that he falls back onto the couch with a laugh. “I was just gonna get the door!”
“Nuh-uh! Birthday boy deserves to rest and relax, I’ll get the door.”
He rolls his eyes but pulls the blankets back over him anyway, getting comfortable. “It’s just a door, sweetheart.”
“And I shall be the one to open it,” you laugh, wiggling your eyebrows at him before making your way to the front door. Instead of it being the delivery guy you were expecting, in front of you stands Jack, already in a pair of pyjamas, and Jessica. “Wh–”
Jessica shushes you, unable to hold back her smile as Jack jumps in barely-contained excitement. "He got home early and he wants to surprise his dad," she whispers.
"This will definitely be a surprise," you whisper back, “he’s expecting pizza.” Jack bounces into your arms and you wrap yourself around him as Jessica closes the door behind her. "He's gonna be so happy."
"Honey?" Aaron calls from the living room. "Is everything alright?"
"Yeah!" You call back, stifling a giggle as you walk back into the living room. "It wasn't the pizza guy, it was someone else."
"Oh, who was it?" You open your mouth to reply but you’re not given the chance to as Jack races into the room with a loud cheer, launching himself at his dad. Aaron immediately breaks out into a huge grin and catches Jack mid-air, pulling him in for a tight hug. "Jack! What are you doing here, buddy?"
"I wanted to surprise you, Daddy!"
Jessica walks in and smiles at the sight. "He really did. He couldn't stop laughing all the way here."
"You knew about this?" Aaron asks Jessica with a laugh.
"Of course I did," she rolls her eyes, bumping her shoulder against yours as if to say is he being serious? "You didn't expect him to wander over here on his own from a whole ‘nother city, did you?"
"No, I suppose not," Aaron chuckles, still hugging Jack as if his life depends on it. "I am so glad to see you, bud. You've just made my day so much better."
"Hey!"
"You know I didn’t mean it like that, sweetheart," he says with a loving smile before looking over at Jessica. "Thank you for bringing him over, I really appreciate it."
"It's no problem," she smiles, walking over to the couch and leaning down to give him a hug. "Happy birthday, Aaron. Here." She presses a kiss to his temple and hands him a bag.
"You didn't have to get me anything–"
"I know," she smirks. "But I did, so enjoy it! I have to go, though, so I'll see you soon, yeah?"
"Bye!" Jack replies, jumping up to give her a hug. "Love you!"
"Love you too, Jack. Take care of your dad, yeah?"
"Always!"
"Thanks, Jessica."
Jessica walks out of the room and you follow her out to the front door. "Thank you for bringing him," you say, giving her a hug. "I know Aaron really appreciated that."
"Of course," she smiles. “See ya.���
You nod and open the door for her, jumping when there's a man already standing there with his hand ready to knock. "Pizza for Aaron?"
"Oh, right, yes," you laugh, taking it from his hands and thanking him as he leaves. "Jess, do you wanna knick a slice before you head out?"
She thinks for a second before shrugging. "Sure, why not."
After she takes her slice and gives you another quick hug, you close the door and make your way to your boys who are cuddling on the couch. You smile at them, feeling a sense of belonging as you sit beside Jack and he immediately jumps to sit between you and Aaron so his shoulders are pressed against both of yours.
As you eat the pizza and watch the movie, you lean over and press a soft kiss on Aaron’s lips. “Happy birthday, sweetheart.”
“Thank you,” he mumbles, unable to wipe the smile off his face as he snuggles closer to you and Jack. “This has been the best one yet.”
Eventually, the three of you fall asleep cuddled up on the couch, warm and full and happier than ever.
tag list: @criminalskies @ssahotchnerr @hotchs-big-hands@citrusiove @sillyhotchsgirl
#comfortember#comfortember 2023#aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner x gender neutral reader#criminal minds#jack hotchner#jessica brooks#aaron hotchner fluff
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In the Still of the Night
Pairing: Aaron Hotcher x Fem!Reader
Summary: Aaron and the Reader are relishing in the first night with their newborn baby
Genre: Tooth rotting fluff, babes.
Warnings: Newborn Dad!Hotch. That's a warning in and of itself. Also potentially inaccurate depictions of post-birth protocol at hospitals, brief mentions of breast feeding, and other stuff I can't think of right now
A/N: Inspired by this prompt for @imagining-in-the-margins's Kid Fic Challenge: "Character witnesses a quiet moment with their partner and their baby during a night feeding", and title taken from the song by The Five Satins of the same name. Nursery image is AI generated.
Word Count: 1578
———————————————————————
Aaron never thought this day would come, but as he snuck glances in the rearview mirror at his wife watching their newborn daughter sleeping in the backseat (while he went as far under the speed limit as he could go without getting pulled over), he realized he finally had what he’d been waiting for: his beautiful baby girl. He’d been counting down the minutes until he could meet his baby since Y/N had told him she was pregnant, and now she was finally here.
Jocelyn Amelia Hotchner, his daughter, was born at 2:37 am on March 11, 2015. She was 20 inches tall, and she weighed 7 pounds and 3 ounces of pure love and joy. The second the team found out Y/N had gone into labor, they took over the hospital waiting room and stayed the entire time so they could be the first to know the gender, because both Aaron and Y/N had agreed they wanted it to be a surprise. Y/N had handled giving birth like a champ, and the usually stoic Aaron promptly started crying the second little Jocelyn was laid on his bare chest for contact bonding.
It was well into the wee hours of the morning when Aaron came to find them (Y/N had to kick him out of the hospital room so he’d go and tell everyone the news face to face because if he’d had it his way, he would have just texted the group chat and stayed by her side for the rest of the night), and they all instantly stood up when they saw him standing there. Tears came to his eyes, and he managed to choke out, “It’s a girl!”, before the team swarmed him in a hug and offered their congratulations.
Y/N and Jocelyn had to stay at the hospital for 24 hours for observation, during which Jessica brought Jack to meet his brand new sister (whom he instantly fell in love with), but once they were given the all-clear, Aaron wasted no time getting his two best girls in the car and driving them home. It was just after 3 am when they pulled into the driveway, and Aaron turned off the car before turning around in his seat to look at Y/N, who was gazing at Jocelyn’s sleeping face with just as much love in her eyes as there was on their wedding day. He said, “Y/N, Honey, we’re home,” in a voice barely above a whisper because he didn’t want to wake the baby, so Y/N said, “Okay,” then carefully undid her seatbelt and the one securing Jocelyn’s car seat before getting out of the car.
Hotch grabbed the car seat, then followed Y/N up the front steps and into the house, tears threatening to flow when he realized this was the first night his daughter would be sleeping in her crib. He set the car seat on the floor, and Y/N instantly swooped in to unfasten Jocelyn and bring her upstairs to the nursery, Aaron following right behind her just in case (his Doting Husband and Father Mode™ has been dialed up to 11 since Y/N hit her second trimester).
When they first started prepping the nursery, Aaron was a tad bit skeptical when Y/N commissioned Penelope to paint a map of the US above the crib, but when Y/N explained her idea to put a glow-in-the-dark star sticker on whatever state he ends up in when he’s away on a case so he could technically be watching over the baby no matter where in the country he was, Aaron was too overcome with adoration to disagree with her. Now, as he watched his wife lay their daughter down to sleep in her crib, he felt that same surge of pride and love flow through him.
Despite being barely a day old, Jocelyn somehow already knew that crying in the middle of the night was a requirement because less than two hours after she was put to bed, Y/N woke up to the sound of her daughter’s wailings through the baby monitor. She let out a sigh, then slid out of bed and padded down the hallway to the nursery. She switched on the salt rock lamp Spencer had given them for a baby shower gift, and the second Jocelyn laid eyes on her mother, her cries lessened but didn’t go away completely, so Y/N cooed, “Oh, come here, My Little Love. Mama’s got you,” while lifting her from the crib and bringing her over to the rocking chair.
The second she sat down, Jocelyn immediately started mouthing on Y/N’s shirt over her breast, so Y/N laughed softly and said, “Okay, Hungry Girl, let’s get some milk in your belly,” before pulling down her sleep shirt and helping Jocelyn latch on. For a while, they just sat there together; Jocelyn eating and Y/N rocking back and forth in the chair while softly humming “Baby Mine” from Dumbo. Aaron, on the other hand, woke up to use the restroom and realized his wife wasn’t beside him. He only worried for a second because then he heard her soothing voice floating out of the baby monitor.
He smiled to himself, then rolled out of bed and walked as quietly as he could down the hall to poke his head into the nursery, and his heart melted all over again at the sight of Y/N feeding baby Jocelyn, the warm yellow light of the salt rock lamp making her look almost ethereal and the gentle white noise of her humming lulling the little girl back to sleep. Aaron let out a soft chuckle at the scene, and Y/N shifted her gaze up from her daughter’s sleeping face to see her husband in the doorway with a loving smile on his face.
She smiled right back and whispered, “Go back to sleep, My Love. I’ve got this,” but Aaron just shook his head and whispered back, “I wouldn’t miss this for the world,” before pulling the little pouf near the dresser over to the chair so he could be closer to his girls. Y/N rolled her eyes lovingly, but kept rocking Jocelyn regardless and whispered, “Is Jess bringing Jack home today?”, so Aaron replied, “Yeah, she said she’d pick him up from school and bring him back here,” in the same hushed tone, making Y/N nod and say, “Good. I’ve missed him,” before turning her attention back to her daughter, who was starting to make little disgruntled sounds while clenching her tiny fists.
Y/N tried to soothe her, but nothing seemed to be working until Aaron said, “Are you grumpy, Sweet Pea?”, and tickled her foot with his index finger, which instantly made her stop making noises. When neither Y/N nor Aaron did anything for a few seconds, Jocelyn started fussing again, so Y/N said, “Ah, okay. She wants Dada,” then started to slide the little girl into her father’s arms. The second Aaron had her held against his chest, she went completely silent save for a content coo here and there, which made Y/N giggle and say, “There we go, happy baby,” a chuckle escaping Aaron at that sentiment. He stood up and walked around the room with her while he said, “Yeah? You just needed some Daddy Time?”, and Jocelyn let out a sleepy baby noise before nuzzling into his chest, making tears come to his eyes before he kissed the mop of messy dark hair on top of her head.
Y/N draped a burp rag over his shoulder, then she said, “Would you mind burping her before you put her back down?”, and Aaron replied, “Not at all. Go on back to bed, Honey. I can handle it from here,” so Y/N smiled at him gratefully before pressing a gentle kiss to his lips, smoothing a hand over Jocelyn’s messy hair with a whisper of, “Sweet dreams, My Little Love,” then wandering back to their bedroom with a barely suppressed yawn. He smiled as he watched her go, then turned his attention back to his daughter, who let out a yawn-hiccup combo.
Aaron burped her like Y/N had asked, then once he’d done that, he walked a few more laps around the nursery while gently bouncing Jocelyn and talking about whatever he could think of in the softest voice he could manage until she fell back asleep. He placed her in her crib, and when she curled up into a ball and grabbed onto the tail of the stuffed squirrel Penelope had gotten them, he smiled and whispered, “Goodnight, Sweet Pea,” before switching off the salt rock lamp and exiting the nursery as quietly as he could.
He used the bathroom like he’d originally intended, then slipped back under the covers and held his wife as close to him as was humanly possible. Aaron whispered, “I love you. Thank you for our daughter,” into Y/N’s hair, not knowing she was still awake until she squeezed his hand where it rested against her stomach and whispered back, “I love you more. Thank you for our son,” before snuggling impossibly closer to him. His breath caught in his throat, and a smile came to his face before he kissed the top of her head and let the sweet caress of sleep overtake him.
———————————————————————
CM Taglist: @homoose, @libraryofloveletters, @xgoldentigerlilyx, @less-intelligent-spencerreid, @boketto2-0, @aryaarathornson, @spoookymuulders, @nomajdetective
Let me know in the comments if you want to be added
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Hi! Could I possibly request an Aaron x reader with jealous overprotective Aaron? It can be that they both work in the BAU and a local officer is too flirty for his liking or that they go out with the team/together and someone keeps trying to flirt with reader.
★ night like this ❥ A. HOTCHNER.
➻❥ masterlist. ➻❥ patreon.
CW ➥ drinking ⋆ Aaron can't keep his hands to himself ⋆ making out ⋆ smut insinuation ⋆ if i missed anything, lmk!
WC ➥ 1,4K. SONG ➥ a night like this, caro emerald.
AUTHORS NOTE ➥ does anyone want the smut part 2? please let me know and i'll finish it up! 😁
★ - © 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑 HTCHNR. 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲, 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦, 𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫! - ★
"awe man," you sigh with a defeated chuckle, finding that your glass is the last to be emptied. the whole team had decided to celebrate a successful case at a local bar — and last one to empty their glass would be the one paying for the next round.
you look down at your glass, chuckling as you reluctantly get up from the semi comfortable booth. you can feel the previous few drinks, not heavily but you've got a comfortable buzz going.
"the same for everyone then?" you look up, palms leaning on the table as you stand. everyone nods, cheering for more drinks.
you sigh, looking down at Hotchner beside you — you'd have to scoot past him now. you take a deep breath, carefully stepping between his legs with your back turned to him. your brows twitch ever so slightly as you feel one of his large warm hands gently guiding the side of your thigh as you pass him. oh lord, this would be a long night.
Aaron watched you leave, his eyes briefly flicking down to your ass as you manoeuvre past him. he's glad for the dim lights of the bar, knowing that the growing tent in his slacks would be painfully obvious if the lighting was better.
normally, he has a ridiculous amount of self control — but with the way your slacks hugged your thighs and ass, and the way you had been teasing him with your high heel against his leg, he was close to losing it.
he made sure not to stare too long, his eyes merely flicking across the back of your thighs as you walked to the bar to order more drinks before returning to the half open case file in front of him. he downed the rest of his drink, feeling it warm his throat — down to his stomach.
the only moment his eyes flick up from the file is when he hears your laugh — reaching his ears nearly immediately despite the loud and crowded bar. he'd be able to pull aside your laugh anywhere. so when he hears you laugh, nowhere near the team, he looks up.
and his eyes find you leaning against the bar, standing in one of his favourite looks on you, tight slacks and an even tighter dress shirt hugging all the right places — laughing, clearly in conversation with some guy he doesn't recognise. your hand also seems to have found purchase against the man's bicep, lightly holding onto him as you laugh at whatever he said.
he takes a deep breath, before standing up and closing the case file. the team seemed too busy with something funny on Morgan's phone anyway.
"that has to be the worst thing ever! how on earth did you recover from that?" you laugh, glancing to the side as you see that half of your drinks have been made.
the guy chuckles, shaking his head as he sips his beer. "oh, i didn't recover from it." he laughs, one hand going to his heart, "it left me battered and bruised." he dramatically acts.
another burst of laughter erupts from your lips as you lean forward a little. you barely caught your breath when you noticed the man's laughing dimmed down. "what's so funny?" you heard, in a humouring tone. oh..
you turn around, to find Hotch standing slightly behind and beside you, tall and menacing with his tie hanging a little loose and his sleeves rolled up, watching as one of his hands snake across your lower back — his large hand resting on the curve of your ass, fingers digging into the clothed flesh. "a story he was telling," nodding towards the man in front of you — who now, looked a little less eager to retell the story to the tall man beside you.
as if right on time, the bartender slides all the drinks onto the bar, along with a short whistle to indicate they were done. you turned, your side pressed lightly against Hotch's side — feeling his frustration hard against your hip — as you grab a few of the drinks.
you look up at him, with big fake innocent eyes as you bat them at him. "care to help me, honey?" you ask, looking up at him through your lashes. even though he was obviously already going to help, how could he ever say no when you look at him like that?
the hand resting on the curve of your ass gives it a tight squeeze, before grabbing the rest of the drinks. he nods towards the table, "go on then, sweetheart." he nudges you teasingly with his knee, urging you to walk in front of him. you try to hide your blush as you start walking back to the loud table. the random guy, completely forgotten.
⋆⊹✮⊹⋆
"finally, there's my Sugar!" Morgan calls once he sees you with the drinks, Aaron right behind you. Morgan eagerly helps distribute the drinks across the table, everyone grabbing their own.
and the moment Aaron and you sit down, the conversation continues — eyes back on whatever was so amusing on Morgan’s phone. leaving Aaron and you by yourselves.
you eagerly sip on your drink, thighs pressed together in a heat as you drink with your eyes closed. you only open them when you feel a large hand slide up your thigh. “what's got you so worked up tonight?” he speaks lowly, so only you could hear him. your thighs twitch, pressing together more.
you look up from your drink, finding Hotchner looking back at his file with one hand, while the other snakes it's way between your thighs. you huff, “one could ask the same of you, standing all tall and mad by the bar. holding me like that — are you insane? what if the team saw?” you shot back in a hushed voice.
you could see his brows twitch, whether it was in amusement, or distaste directed towards the man at the bar, you’ll never know. “i didn't like the way he was looking at you.” he says shortly.
your thighs twitch again around his hand. “as if you weren't looking at me the same way. you think you were being slick, huh? eyeing me up and down like that.” his eyes stop in their tracks on the paper.
you down the rest of your drink, parting you thighs enough for him to slide his hand up more — before tightly closing them again, denying him to move any further. “why don't we quite the act and get out of here? hm?” you mutter.
you down the rest of your drink, squeezing Aaron’s hand before pulling it from between your thighs and standing up with a deep breath. “well, i'm going to hit the hay, before i hit the hay in this booth.” you chuckle, palms leaning on the table. the team looks up at you, nodding and chuckling along.
“well, we’ll see you at the office tomorrow.” Morgan calls, without looking up from his phone — which you silently thank him for, as he isn't paying attention to the way Aaron is gripping your hips as you slide out of the booth in front of him. you nearly let out a sound as he pulls you flush against his lap for a split second, pressing his aching erecting against your core.
once you're free from the booth you look down at Hotchner, leaning against the table as you catch your breath a little. “hey, i think my bag is still in your car, can you unlock it for me?” you bat your lashes at him, good lord — if only you knew what that did to him.
he nods, taking a deep breath as he folds up the case file. “i’ll be right back.” he announces, sliding out from the booth. the three left in the booth barely acknowledge the words, waving the two of you off.
you chuckle to yourself, slowly walking out of the bar. a surprised squeak leaves you as you feel Aaron’s large hands grip your hips as he guides you out of the bar.
the cool air swirls along with the heat between the two of you, the cold metal of his car making you gasp against his lips as he presses you against the frame — eager hands trying to get a hold of every inch of your body.
you moan lowly against his lips, eagerly pulling his hips to roll against yours as he devours you. you lean away from the kiss for a second, catching your breath as you lean your head back against the car. Aaron let's you take a small break, his lips pressing urgent and bruising kisses against your throat — trailing to your collarbones that peak out from your dress shirt.
“shit - Aaron,” you pant, your hand tangled in his hair as he sucks rough bruises into the soft skin of your chest. he looks so unbelievably good — one hand gripping your hip as if his life depended on it, veins running up his hand — and the other resting beside your head as he leans against it, his sleeves rolled up, revealing those forearms you could stare at for days.
you gently tug on his hair, a low moan coming from him. he looks up from your chest, standing up fully as he captures your lips once more. an embarrassingly desperate sound leaves your lips, only to be swallowed down by his.
you desperately press a hand flat against his toned chest, tangling his tie with your fingers. he pulls away, ever so slightly, panting against your lips. “i'm going to lose it, if you don't take me home and fuck me so hard i forget his face.” you breathe against his lips — knowing exactly how much it’ll tick him off.
he grins against your lips, “get your ass in the car then,” a infuriating smirk on his lips. god, you wish you could fuck that smirk of his face for good..
TAGLIST ➥ @alexblakegf
#⋆୨🩷©2023 htchnr#⋆୨⭐️aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotch hotchner#aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner imagine#aaron hotchner oneshot#aaron hotchner smut#aaron hotch hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner fluff
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