Aaronâs coat was draped over the back of the chair, his tie already loosened, and his sleeves rolled up as he leaned against the doorframe, watching you. Heâd been home for almost an hour, but something about the sight of you still caught his breath. After all the chaos of the day, all the cases, the pressure, it was moments like theseâquiet, intimateâthat grounded him.
You turned around, meeting his eyes, and smiled. It was warm and soft, but there was always something more in that smile. Love. Comfort. A promise of something steady.
âYouâre home early,â you noted, your voice gentle but playful. âThe world didnât end today?â
He chuckled, his lips twitching up in that familiar, rare smile that only you got to see. âI left the office as soon as I could. I had something more important waiting for me.â His gaze softened as he took a few steps closer, his eyes never leaving yours.
You dried your hands on a towel, feeling the weight of his words. âOh? Whatâs more important than work?â
Aaron didnât answer right away. Instead, he reached for you, pulling you into his arms with a quiet sigh of relief. His chin rested on the top of your head as he inhaled deeply, the familiar scent of your shampoo calming the nerves he hadnât realized were still on edge.
âIâve been looking forward to this,â he murmured, his voice low. âTo coming home to you. To⊠this.â His arms tightened around you, a comforting squeeze as though you were his anchor in a sea of chaos.
You smiled against his chest, fingers trailing up the back of his neck. âI missed you,â you confessed softly. âFeels like itâs been forever.â
âItâs been too long,â he agreed, his voice rough with emotion. âI know itâs not always easy, but you make everything better.â He pulled back slightly, just enough to look you in the eyes. âIâm lucky to have you.â
You didnât need to say anything in response. Instead, you kissed him. Slow and deliberate, like nothing else in the world mattered but this. When you pulled away, his hands cupped your face gently, and his forehead rested against yours.
âI love you, Aaron,â you whispered, the words more precious than anything else.
His eyes softened, that intense, burning affection only growing. âI love you too. More than youâll ever know.â
The rest of the evening passed in a comfortable, quiet rhythm. The work of the day slipped away as you and Aaron settled into the small, peaceful moments that made everything else fade. Just the two of you, together.
Y/N looked up to find Aaron Hotchner standing at their table, his usual calm demeanor in place, though his eyes carried a rare softness. His presence was magnetic, commanding attention without trying, and Y/N felt the usual flutter in their chest.
âHotch,â they greeted, gesturing for him to sit. âJust thinking. What brings you here?â
âCoffee,â he replied with the barest hint of a smile. âAnd maybe a break from the case files.â
Y/N smirked. âThat doesnât sound like you.â
âI can be unpredictable,â he teased lightly, taking the chair opposite them.
The banter between them was effortless, a delicate dance that always left Y/N wondering if there was more to their connection. But Aaron Hotchner was nothing if not professional, and Y/N was never quite sure if they were reading too much into his small gestures.
Two hours later, Y/N found themselves back at the BAU headquarters, poring over evidence from their latest caseâa series of art thefts tied to a suspicious death. The case wasnât their usual violent fare, but it was still puzzling.
A knock on the conference room door drew their attention. Hotch stood there, holding two cups of coffee.
âThought you might need this,â he said, setting one in front of them.
âThanks,â Y/N said, surprised. âIs it bribery to make me work faster?â
âI prefer to call it motivation,â he countered, his voice laced with humor.
âWhatâs wrong?â Hotchâs sharp instincts kicked in immediately.
Y/N handed him the phone, their hand trembling slightly. âThis just came through.â
Hotchâs jaw tightened as he examined the photo and message. âDo you recognize the number?â
âNo.â
He stood straighter, his protective instincts in full force. âStay here. Iâm alerting Garcia.â
Within minutes, Penelope Garcia had traced the number to a burner phone, confirming their suspicions of foul play. The timing of the message, the photoâit all pointed to someone close to the case.
âI donât like this,â Hotch said as they gathered in his office. âWhoever sent this knows where youâve been and has access to information about us.â
âUs?â Y/N echoed, raising an eyebrow.
His expression flickered, as if he realized his slip. âYou know what I mean,â he amended, though his tone lacked its usual conviction.
Y/N decided to let it slideâfor now.
The next day, the team staked out the latest crime scene, an art gallery set to host a private auction. Y/N and Hotch were partnered, tasked with watching the back entrance.
As they waited, the tension from the text still lingered between them.
âDo you think the message was meant as a threat?â Y/N asked softly.
âI donât know,â Hotch admitted. âBut I donât take risks with my team.â
Y/N glanced at him, noting the way his hand rested near his holster, his posture alert. âAaron, you donât have toââ
He cut them off gently. âI do.â His dark eyes met theirs. âYouâre important to this team. To me.â
Before Y/N could process his words, movement by the door caught their attention. A figure slipped inside the gallery, carrying a black bag.
They moved in tandem, signaling the rest of the team. The suspect bolted as they approached, but Y/N and Hotch were faster. Y/N tackled him to the ground, while Hotch secured the bag. Inside were stolen paintings and a notebook full of incriminating details.
But what struck Y/N most was the final pageâa detailed surveillance log of them and Hotch, dating back weeks.
Back at headquarters, the suspect confessed to everything: the thefts, the surveillance, and the cryptic text.
âIt wasnât personal,â he said with a shrug. âI just needed leverage in case the FBI got too close.â
Hotchâs jaw tightened, but Y/N could sense his relief. The threat was neutralized.
As the team began wrapping up, Y/N lingered by Hotchâs office.
âYou donât have to babysit me anymore,â they teased, leaning against the doorframe.
Hotch looked up, his expression softer than usual. âIt was never about babysitting.â
Y/N stepped closer, heart pounding. âThen what was it about?â
For a moment, silence hung between them. Then, Hotch stood, closing the distance between them.
âIt was about this,â he said quietly, his voice steady as he cupped their cheek.
Y/N barely had time to breathe before his lips met theirs, a kiss that was as unexpected as it was inevitable.
When they finally pulled away, Y/Nâs lips curved into a smile. âWell, thatâs one mystery solved.â
Hotch chuckled, his forehead resting against theirs. âLetâs see if we can keep it from becoming another case.â
Summary: After a long day at the BAU, Hotch comes home to the vibrant light of your loveâhigh heels, lipstick, and all.
The sound of the front door clicking shut was the only warning you had before Aaron Hotchner stepped into the living room, still clad in his FBI-issued suit. His tie was loosened but not yet removed, and his sharp features were softened by exhaustion.
âHey, honey,â you called from the couch, crossing your legs dramatically as you adjusted the hem of your silky robe. A red one tonightâAaronâs favorite.
His tired eyes lit up at the sight of you, the corners of his lips tugging into the faintest smile. It wasnât much, but it was enough to make your heart flutter.
âLong day?â you teased, twirling a strand of hair around your manicured finger.
He chuckled softly, setting his briefcase down by the door and shrugging off his suit jacket. âYou could say that.â
You patted the cushion next to you, your red-painted nails catching the light. âCome here, let me take care of you.â
He didnât need to be asked twice. In a few strides, Aaron was by your side, sinking into the couch with a heavy sigh. You immediately swung your legs over his lap, your bare skin warm against the cool fabric of his pants.
âRough case?â you asked, your voice softer now as you reached up to smooth the lines of worry on his forehead.
He leaned into your touch, closing his eyes for a moment. âRough, but itâs over. Iâm just glad to be home.â
You smiled, leaning in to press a kiss to his cheek. âGood. Because I missed you.â
His hand found your thigh, his thumb brushing gently against your skin. âI missed you, too,â he murmured, his voice low and intimate.
You couldnât help but grin, your trademark red lipstick bright against your teeth. âOf course you did. Iâm irresistible.â
Aaron chuckled, finally opening his eyes to look at you. âThat you are.â
For a moment, the two of you just stayed like that, wrapped up in each otherâs presence. The tension in his shoulders seemed to melt away as you traced slow circles on the back of his hand, your other hand playing idly with his tie.
âLet me guess,â you said, your tone teasing. âYou didnât eat dinner.â
His silence was answer enough.
You sighed dramatically, slipping off his lap and standing up. âWhat would you do without me, Hotchner?â
His eyes followed you as you padded into the kitchen, your robe swishing around your legs. âStarve, probably,â he admitted with a small smirk.
âDamn right you would,â you called over your shoulder, pulling out leftovers from the fridge.
By the time you returned, reheated pasta in hand, Aaron had loosened his tie completely and was leaning back against the couch cushions. He looked more relaxed than he had all day, but his gaze sharpened as you approached.
âWhat?â you asked, setting the plate down on the coffee table.
âYouâre beautiful,â he said simply, his eyes soft as they roamed over you.
You felt heat rise to your cheeks, but you masked it with a playful scoff. âFlattery will get you everywhere, Hotchner.â
He reached out, catching your wrist as you moved to sit down. âI mean it.â
For once, the teasing words you had ready on your tongue disappeared, replaced by a soft smile. You leaned down, brushing your lips against his in a kiss that was as sweet as it was brief.
âI know,â you whispered, resting your forehead against his.
The rest of the night passed in quiet contentment, with Aaron finishing the dinner you insisted he eat and you stealing bites from his plate. By the time you both made it to bed, he looked lighter, his smile a little wider, and you couldnât help but feel proud.
Aaron Hotchner may face the darkest corners of humanity every day, but when he came home to you, you made sure he remembered the light.
OK I'm thinking aaron hotchner x wife!reader when he was sent to the middle east for a short bit to run a task force but then instead of him coming back for a "case" like he thought reader pulls him to the side and tells him he's gonna be a daddy for a second time! Just fluff
Mission: Daddy 2.0
A.H x Wife!Reader
Pure Fluff
Aaron Hotchner wasnât entirely sure what he was walking into. After weeks overseas, running a special task force in the Middle East, heâd expected a quiet return, maybe a subdued evening with you and Jack. But the minute he stepped through the front door, he knew something was different.
For one, you were practically buzzing with excitement, your energy so infectious it made his jet-lagged brain suspicious.
âYouâre back!â you exclaimed, throwing your arms around him before he could even set his bag down.
He laughed, the sound low and warm as he hugged you tightly. âIâm back,â he agreed, dropping a kiss on the top of your head. âMiss me?â
âLike you wouldnât believe,â you said, looking up at him with a sly smile. âYou hungry? Tired? Or are you up for⊠a surprise?â
That got his attention. âA surprise?â he repeated, his profiler instincts kicking in. âShould I be worried?â
You grinned mischievously, grabbing his hand. âOnly if you hate good news. Come on, sit.â
Hotch allowed himself to be pulled into the living room, where you all but pushed him onto the couch. He sank into the cushions, his curiosity growing by the second as you began to pace in front of him, clearly trying to find the right words.
âOkay,â you started, hands on your hips. âSo, you know how Jackâs been asking for a sibling?â
His eyebrows shot up, caught completely off-guard by the question. âI⊠do. You told him to ask Santa.â
You pointed at him. âExactly! Which was a brilliant distraction, thank you. But, uhâŠâ You trailed off, biting your lip to keep from laughing.
âBut?â he prompted, leaning forward.
âBut it turns out, we mightâve beaten Santa to it,â you blurted, throwing your hands up as if to say, Surprise!
For a moment, he just blinked at you, clearly trying to connect the dots. Then his gaze dropped to your stomachâthough there wasnât a visible change yetâand darted back up to your face.
âWait,â he said slowly, his tone incredulous but tinged with dawning realization. âAre you sayingâŠ?â
You couldnât hold back your grin any longer. âIâm pregnant, Aaron. Weâre having another baby!â
His reaction wasnât immediate. Instead, he sat there for a beat, looking almost comically frozen. Thenâlike a switch had been flippedâhe was on his feet, closing the distance between you in two long strides.
âYouâre serious?â he asked, his voice breathless as his hands found your waist.
âCompletely serious,â you replied, laughing at the way his face lit up.
He let out a stunned laugh, pulling you into a tight hug. âHow long have you known?â
âA few weeks,â you admitted, resting your head against his chest. âI wanted to tell you in person, but it was torture keeping it to myself.â
Hotch leaned back, looking down at you with a mixture of awe and teasing exasperation. âYou mean you let me get off a 14-hour flight and didnât warn me I was about to have my life changed?â
You smirked, looping your arms around his neck. âI figured a little suspense would keep you awake. Was I wrong?â
He laughed again, shaking his head. âNot wrong. Just⊠unbelievable.â His hands slid to your stomach, resting there gently as if he were afraid of breaking the moment. âAnother baby,â he murmured, his voice soft. âHow do you feel?â
âExcited,â you said honestly, covering his hands with yours. âAnd a little nervous. But mostly excited. Jackâs going to lose his mind.â
That earned another laugh, and Aaronâs eyes sparkled with amusement. âHeâs going to ask if he gets to name them.â
âOh, absolutely. And the first suggestion will be something ridiculous, like âSpider-Man Hotchner.ââ
âOr âCaptain Jack,ââ Aaron added dryly, earning a snort of laughter from you.
The two of you stayed like that for a moment, the excitement settling into something quieter but no less joyous. Finally, Aaron tilted his head, a sly smile curving his lips.
âYou know,â he said, âIâve faced international criminals, interrogated spies, and worked with some of the most brilliant minds in the world. But somehow, you still manage to outsmart me.â
You grinned, leaning up to kiss him. âThatâs because Iâm the real mastermind in this family, Hotchner. Donât forget it.â
âNever,â he murmured against your lips.
And as Jack came barreling down the stairs a few moments later, demanding hugs and peppering Aaron with questions, you knew this was only the beginning of a new, beautiful adventure for your growing family.
The boutique lights sparkled softly against the polished floors as you stood in front of a row of delicate necklaces. They gleamed like tiny constellations, arranged neatly on black velvet. Your fingers hovered over oneâa simple gold chain with a small, crescent moon pendant. It wasnât flashy, but something about it called to you.
You hesitated, heart pounding as your mind raced back to the echoes of your childhood.
âYou donât need that,â your motherâs sharp voice rang in your ears, cutting through the calm of the present. âWhy are you even looking at things like that? Do you think weâre made of money? Do you think you deserve it?â
You could still feel the burn of embarrassment youâd felt as a child, standing in stores like this, admiring something small and simple, only to be scolded for it. Even when youâd had money of your ownâbirthday gifts, babysitting moneyâit had felt impossible to spend. Every purchase had come with scrutiny, criticism, or worse, guilt.
âYouâre being selfish,â your father had once said when youâd asked for a new pair of sneakers, your old ones too worn to wear without socks showing through. âYou already have shoes. Why are you wasting money on another pair?â
Aaronâs voice broke through the storm of memories, his presence grounding you. âDo you like it?â he asked, his tone gentle and encouraging.
You blinked, realizing your hand was still frozen in mid-air. âOh, um⊠itâs nice,â you murmured, but the conflict inside you was already bubbling over.
He stepped closer, his steady warmth chasing the cold from your chest. âIf you like it, letâs get it,â he said simply, as if it were the easiest thing in the world.
You shook your head, swallowing hard. âItâs too much,â you whispered, your voice barely audible.
Aaron frowned, his gaze softening as he studied you. âItâs not too much,â he said firmly. âY/N, you donât have to convince yourself you donât deserve nice things. You do.â
The tears surprised you, stinging your eyes before you could stop them. âItâs just⊠itâs hard,â you admitted, your voice trembling. âGrowing up, I wasnât allowed toâwell, I wasnât allowed to buy anything unless it was ânecessary.â Even then, it was like I had to justify everything. Iâd saved money for years, but it didnât matter. It was never really mine.â
Aaronâs jaw tightened, his protective instinct kicking in as he reached for your hand. âI hate that you went through that,â he said softly. âIt wasnât fair. You were a kidâyou shouldâve been able to enjoy things without feeling guilty or controlled.â
His words wrapped around you like a warm blanket, soothing the ache of memories long buried but never forgotten.
âWhen I was younger,â you continued, your voice quieter now, âI remember seeing a bracelet I loved at a little shop in town. Iâd saved up enough from babysitting to buy it, but my momâŠâ You trailed off, biting your lip as the memory surfaced. âShe told me I was wasting my money. That it was stupid to spend money on something so âuseless.â I ended up putting it back.â
Aaronâs hand tightened around yours. âIâm sorry,â he said simply, his voice steady but laced with emotion. âNo one should have taken that from you.â
You took a shaky breath, trying to push back the tears. âItâs just a necklace,â you said, almost to yourself, as if you were trying to convince the little girl inside you.
Aaron turned you gently to face him, his eyes meeting yours. âItâs not just a necklace,â he said. âItâs a step. Itâs a way of saying, âI can have nice things because I want them, and I deserve them.â And Iâll be right here, helping you take those steps, no matter how long it takes.â
With his encouragement, you finally let yourself pick up the necklace. It felt weightless in your hands, yet the act of holding it carried so much significance. When Aaron handed it to the cashier, you didnât protest. And when he fastened it around your neck in the car, his fingers brushing your skin, you felt something shift inside youâa small crack in the wall of guilt and control that had defined so much of your life.
As the two of you drove home, your fingers absentmindedly played with the pendant, a small smile tugging at your lips.
Aaron glanced over at you, his eyes soft and full of love. âWhatâs on your mind?â
You hesitated before answering, your voice quiet but steady. âI was just thinking⊠that little girl I used to be? I think sheâd be happy. Sheâd see this and know itâs possible to feel free someday.â
Aaron reached for your hand, intertwining your fingers with his. âSheâd be proud of you,â he said. âAnd I am too.â
For the first time in years, you felt that maybe, just maybe, you were finally stepping into a life that was truly yours.
The BAU jet hummed softly as you leaned back in your seat, exhaustion tugging at your eyelids. Another case closed, another monster behind bars. It was always satisfying, but tonight felt heavier than usual. Maybe it was the long hours or the biting chill of the rain outside, but you couldnât shake the weight pressing on your chest.
You glanced across the aisle to find Aaron Hotchner, the ever-composed team leader, reviewing paperwork. His brow furrowed slightly as he scribbled something in the margin, the dim cabin lights highlighting the sharp planes of his face. He hadnât looked up since the plane took off, and you werenât surprisedâHotch rarely let his guard down, even with the case closed.
âHotch,â you called softly, just loud enough for him to hear.
He looked up, his dark eyes meeting yours. âYes, Y/N?â
âYouâre working. Again.â
His lips curved into the faintest smile, a rare sight that made your heart flutter. âSomeone has to.â
You rolled your eyes. âThe team is practically passed out, and the paperwork can wait until tomorrow. You should get some rest.â
Hotch set down his pen and leaned back, studying you for a moment. âYou donât look much better, you know.â
âWhatâs catching up with you?â he asked, his voice gentle now, the sharpness of his professional tone replaced with something softer.
You hesitated, your fingers fiddling with the hem of your sweater. âEverything. The cases, the long nights, the fear that we wonât get there in time one day. Itâs like⊠thereâs always another storm coming, and I canât stop bracing for it.â
Hotchâs expression shifted, the lines around his eyes softening. He set his file aside and moved to sit in the empty seat beside you. The warmth of his presence made you feel a little less untethered.
âYouâre not alone in this,â he said quietly. âThe storm is always there, but we face it together. And when it feels like too much, you can lean on me.â
Your breath hitched at his words. Hotch had a way of speaking directly to your heart without even realizing it. You turned to him, searching his face for something you werenât sure you could name.
âI donât want to be a burden,â you murmured.
âYou could never be a burden,â he replied, his voice steady and resolute. âWe all have our moments, Y/N. Even me.â
A faint laugh escaped your lips. âI find that hard to believe.â
Hotch smirked, an almost boyish charm flashing briefly. âAsk Rossi. Heâll be happy to tell you about all my mistakes.â
The levity in his voice eased some of the tension in your chest, and you couldnât help but smile. He reached out then, his hand brushing yours, hesitant at first. When you didnât pull away, he entwined his fingers with yours, his touch firm and grounding.
âYou donât have to hold it all in,â he said softly. âNot with me.â
You leaned into his shoulder, the steady rhythm of his breathing calming the storm inside you. For a moment, the rain outside seemed to fade, replaced by the warmth of Hotchâs presence.
âThank you,â you whispered.
He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, so brief and tender you almost thought you imagined it. âAnytime,â he murmured. âYouâre safe here, Y/N.â
And for the first time in a long time, you believed it.
It was late, the office eerily quiet after a long, grueling day. The rest of the team had already left, but you were still at your desk, reviewing case files. Your eyes were tired, and your back ached from hours spent hunched over the papers, but you were determined to finish
You didnât hear him approach, but you felt it the moment Aaron Hotchner stepped into the room. His presence was undeniableâquiet, commanding, and far too close for comfort. You glanced up and met his eyes, and for a moment, neither of you spoke.
âStill working?â he asked, his deep voice soft but laced with something you couldnât quite place.
âYeah,â you replied, trying to sound unaffected as you closed the file in front of you. âJust wrapping up.â
Hotchâs gaze lingered on you, his eyes dark but intent. There was something about the way he watched you that made your pulse race. The space between you felt charged, the air heavy with unspoken words.
You shook your head. âIâm fine. Just need to finish this.â
His lips curled slightly at the corners, a subtle smirk playing on his face. âI know you, Y/N. Youâre always pushing yourself.â He took a slow step forward, close enough now that you could feel the warmth radiating off him. It was almost too much, the heat between you undeniable.
Your breath caught in your throat, but you tried to keep it steady. âIâm not pushing myself. Just⊠focused.â
Hotchâs eyes softened, and for a moment, you couldâve sworn you saw something else thereâa flicker of something deeper. He leaned against the edge of your desk, so close you could feel the fabric of his suit brushing against your arm.
âYou donât always have to do everything alone, Y/N,â he said, his voice low and just a little more intimate than usual. âIâm here if you need help.â
You cleared your throat, trying to regain your composure, but it was hard. The way he stood there, so close, his body almost touching yoursâit made your heart race.
âI donât need help,â you said, your voice a little breathier than you intended. You couldnât help the slight teasing tone that crept into your words. âBut I appreciate the offer.â
Hotch chuckled softly, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. âYouâre a stubborn one, arenât you?â His voice was playful now, but there was an edge to itâa challenge, a dare.
You looked up at him, your eyes meeting his once more, and for a second, everything else in the room faded away. His gaze darkened, his lips parting slightly as if he was about to say something, but instead, he took another step closer.
You could feel the heat from his body now, the subtle but undeniable closeness. It was a dangerous game, one you didnât know if you were ready to play.
But the longer he stood there, the more you found yourself drawn to himâhis strength, his intensity, the way he made you feel like you were the only person in the room.
"I could walk you to your car,â he suggested softly, the words hanging between you like a promise. âItâs late, and I donât want you out there alone.â
You nodded, though your mind was racing, and your heart was pounding in your chest. You stood up slowly, the proximity between you and him too much to ignore. As you moved past him, you felt his hand brush against the back of your armâbrief, but enough to send a jolt through you.
The two of you walked in silence down the hallway, the only sound the click of your shoes on the floor. You couldnât shake the tension between you, the way your body reacted to his every move, every glance.
As you reached the door, Hotch stopped and turned to face you, his eyes never leaving yours. âYouâre not going to leave me hanging, are you, Y/N?â His voice was teasing now, but the intensity was still there.
Your heart skipped a beat, and you looked up at him, a playful smile tugging at your lips. âLeave you hanging?â you asked, your voice low and full of promise. âIâm not sure youâre ready for whatâs coming next.â
Hotchâs gaze darkened, the smirk on his lips transforming into something more predatory, more focused. He took a step closer, his hand reaching up to brush a stray lock of hair from your face. The simple gesture felt intimate, as though he was memorizing every detail of you.
âMaybe Iâm already prepared,â he said quietly, his voice like silk.
You stood there for a moment, the tension so thick you could almost taste it. And then, just before you thought you couldnât take it anymore, he leaned in just enough to close the space, his lips hovering dangerously close to yours.
But he didnât kiss you.
He didnât move.
He simply waited. And in that silence, you both realized you werenât the only one teetering on the edge.
Aaron made sure of that through his quiet, thoughtful actions. From offering you an extra blanket on the plane ride back home to listening intently as you and Morgan bickered like siblings, he was always present. Though he rarely showed it, he couldnât help but be impressed by your quick-witted comebacks to Morganâs every remark. In his mind, you were one of the few who could stand up to his inner prosecutor, navigating his sharp, sometimes unyielding personality with ease.
Every time you caught his eye, there was a quiet connection, an unspoken understanding. He didnât have to say anything for you to know that he was paying attention. You could feel his gaze on you during cases, the way his subtle smile would appear when you offered your perspective, no matter how small. It wasnât loud or brash, but it was there â a constant, steady presence that comforted you.
You, too, found yourself drawn to him in ways you couldnât explain. It wasnât just the way he led the team with calm authority, or how he could read people in a single glance. It was his silence, the way he carried a quiet strength, the way he never asked for anything in return. He made you feel seen, truly seen, in a world where most people overlooked the small, tender moments that meant everything.
There were moments you caught him staring at you when he thought you werenât looking, and in those moments, your heart would race. He was a man of few words, but those fleeting moments of eye contact spoke volumes. He didnât need to say âI love youâ because you already knew. You could feel it in the way he would adjust the collar of your jacket on a chilly morning, or the small, comforting touches during stressful moments.
As the weeks passed, the air between you shifted. It was subtle, unspoken â but it was there. The way his hand lingered just a little too long when passing you a file, the soft smiles he gave you when no one was looking, the way his voice softened whenever he addressed you. The tension was building, and you could feel it in your bones. But neither of you dared to break the silence.
One night, after a particularly grueling case, you both found yourselves at the same bar, unwinding with a drink. The dim lighting, the hum of quiet conversation around you, and the warmth of the moment made everything feel just a little more intimate.
The evening was quiet, the weight of the dayâs case still lingering between you. You sat at the bar, nursing your drink, the low hum of conversation in the background. Aaron had been silent the entire ride over, his usual stoic presence beside you in the car, but tonight, something felt different. There was a palpable tension in the air, something unspoken that both of you had avoided addressing.
You took a sip from your glass, trying to push away the heaviness in your chest, but the silence was too much. You wanted to know if he felt it too â the way his presence made everything seem a little brighter, the way your heart beat a little faster when his gaze lingered on you just a moment too long.
Finally, you spoke, your voice softer than you intended. âDo you ever wonder⊠if weâre all just pretending? Pretending that this,â you gestured between the two of you, âisnât something more than just⊠whatever this is?â
Aaronâs eyes flickered to you for a brief moment, his brow furrowing slightly, as if unsure whether you were talking about the case or something more personal. He studied you for a long second, the same way he did when he was trying to read someone. But this time, it was different. He wasnât trying to figure out the suspect â he was trying to figure you out.
âYouâre not talking about the case, are you?â he asked, his voice low, almost hesitant.
You shook your head. âNo. I mean⊠I guess I am. But not really.â You set your drink down, eyes fixed on the bar in front of you, afraid to meet his gaze. âI donât know, Hotch. Itâs like⊠Iâve always been aware of the way things are, but lately, everything just feels⊠louder.â
Aaron let out a breath, setting his drink down too, his gaze steady but intense. âLouder how?â His voice had a quiet curiosity to it, the kind that only surfaced when he was genuinely interested in someoneâs perspective.
You hesitated, searching for the right words. âI guess itâs just⊠when weâre together, when weâre talking, itâs like Iâm hearing everything, but also nothing. Itâs confusing, you know?â You glanced at him then, your eyes meeting his for the first time all night. âIâve been wondering if maybe⊠Iâm just hearing what I want to hear.â
Aaron didnât look away. Instead, he leaned in slightly, his eyes searching yours. âAnd what do you want to hear?â he asked, the question loaded with an intensity that you could feel in your chest.
Your heart beat a little faster. âI want to hear you say that you feel it too,â you admitted quietly, the words slipping out before you could stop them. âThat all this silence, all these moments⊠they mean something.â
There was a long pause. The air between you was thick with the weight of your confession, but Aaron didnât flinch. He didnât retreat into his usual quiet self, the one that hid his emotions behind a mask. Instead, he leaned closer, just enough for you to feel the heat of his presence.
âIâve felt it,â he said softly, his voice almost a whisper. âMore than Iâve let myself admit.â He reached across the bar, his hand brushing against yours in a gesture so small, but it felt like a promise. âIâve been waiting for you to see it too.â
You blinked, your breath catching in your throat. He had felt it. For how long? How long had he been waiting for you to say something? The realization hit you like a wave, crashing over everything youâd been holding back.
Before you could respond, Aaron spoke again, his voice now steadier, more certain. âIâve been silent because I didnât want to make this harder than it already is. But if Iâm being honest with myselfâŠâ He paused, the words hanging between you. âI think weâve both been pretending that this silence doesnât mean something. Pretending that we donât both want more.â
Your heart raced as you processed what he was saying. The silence that had hung between you for so long wasnât just the absence of words â it was filled with everything that you both couldnât say.
And then, as if all at once, the distance between you closed. Aaronâs hand found yours, and the world around you seemed to fade away. No more pretending. No more silence. Only the quiet understanding that, in that moment, everything had finally clicked into place.
Without another word, he leaned in, his lips gently meeting yours. It was a slow, tender kiss, full of everything you had both been too afraid to say. And as the kiss deepened, you realized that sometimes, it wasnât the loud declarations of love that mattered. Sometimes, it was the quiet moments in between that spoke the loudest.
Slow burn, friends-to-lovers, angst,âthe one that got away,â taken for granted.
Three Years Ago
Aaron Hotchner had always prided himself on his control, his ability to keep his emotions in check, especially when it came to his team. But when Y/N came into his life, everything he thought he knew about protecting others, about keeping a professional distance, was shattered.
She had been a breath of fresh air, a sharp mind with an eagerness to prove herself. He couldnât help but notice herâher determination, her intelligence, the way she saw people for who they were and never let their darkness consume her. She was different.
Despite his attempts to push his feelings down, to compartmentalize his emotions, something in him began to shift. He watched her grow, rise above the horrors of their job with a grace he didnât believe was possible. She cared too much, maybeâhe saw that in the way her eyes would linger on the victims, in the way she would refuse to let the tragedies they faced slip from her mind. But it was her heart that drew him in, the very thing he couldnât afford to get attached to.
When it became clear that there was more between them, more than just respect or professional admiration, Hotch made the decision that would haunt him for years.
He pushed her away.
âIâm not the person you need, Y/N,â he had said, his voice thick with regret as he turned away from her. His mind screamed at him to stop, but the words came out anyway. âYou deserve more than this. More than me.â
It wasnât a decision based on logic, but on fear. Fear of losing her, fear of what his dark world would do to her. Fear that he could never be the man she needed.
It had been three years. Three years since he had let her slip away without a fight. Three years of watching his life crumble beneath the weight of that one decision.
He leaned back in his seat, closing his eyes. I shouldnât have let her go.
The memory of her face, the last time he saw herâthe hurt in her eyes, the way she had tried to hold it together, only for him to destroy everything with a few cold, careless words. She had deserved better, and he had failed her.
You donât get to walk away from me like this, her voice echoed in his mind, a silent scream of defiance that haunted him.
She had left. He hadnât even tried to stop her.
Three Years Ago, Y/N
Y/N had left everything behind that dayâher life in the BAU, her feelings for Hotch, the hope that maybe, just maybe, she could be the one to reach him. But she couldnât be the one to fix him. Not when he wouldnât let her close enough to see the cracks, to help him heal.
Every time she tried to get through to him, to make him understand that she wasnât afraid of his demons, that she wanted to face them with him, he had pulled away. He had pushed her away, convinced she deserved someone better, someone easier.
And so, she had walked away, heart shattered, but determined to move on. She took a position at another department in a quieter part of the country, away from the chaos, away from the constant reminder of him.
But the ache never left. It never stopped gnawing at her chest, the quiet desperation she had felt for months after his rejection. How could she have let him slip away so easily? How could she have believed that heâd ever really want her?
She buried herself in work, in the cases that demanded all her focus. The distance between them was meant to help her forget, but instead, it had only made the hurt sharper.
She could still feel his touch, the heat of his breath against her skin when he had gotten too close, his voice low and comforting in those rare, vulnerable moments. She had loved him with all of herself. And for what? For him to let her walk out of his life without a single fight?
And now, as she sat here, in a quiet corner of the world, she couldnât shake the feeling that somethingâsomeoneâwas about to turn her world upside down again.
The door opened.
Her heart stopped.
There he was.
Aaron Hotchner.
The rain clung to his jacket, his hair disheveled from the storm, but his presence still commanded the room. The room seemed to freeze as he looked around, searching for her like a man who had just realized what he had lost.
Her stomach twisted as their eyes met. He hadnât changed. But she had. She was stronger now, or at least, she had learned how to pretend she was.
He took a tentative step forward, his gaze never leaving hers. She couldnât breathe. Couldnât think.
Y/N clenched her fists under the table, the memories flooding back like a wave crashing over her. The feeling of being abandoned. The nights she had cried herself to sleep, wondering if she had ever truly meant anything to him.
Hotch stopped at the edge of the table, his breath ragged, as though he had run hereâhadnât even stopped to think.
âIâŠâ His voice cracked, and Y/Nâs heart shattered all over again. She had never imagined hearing his voice like this. So raw. So vulnerable.
âIâm sorry, Y/N,â he whispered, his eyes filled with a torment she had never seen before. âI never should have let you go.â
Y/N looked away, the tears she had been holding back now threatening to spill. She wanted to scream at him, to tell him how much he had hurt her, how much he had taken from her. But instead, all she could do was stand up, taking a step back.
âYou should have fought for me, Aaron,â she whispered, her voice trembling. âBut you didnât.â
He reached out, his hand hovering near her, but she flinched, stepping away.
âI was wrong,â he said, his voice pleading. âI am wrong. But I canât lose you again, Y/N. Not like this.â
The distance between them felt endless, even though they stood mere inches apart. Neither one knew what to do with the space that had grown between them over the past three years. Was it too late? Could they ever go back to what they had?
But Y/N knew one thingâif he didnât fight for her now, there would be no second chance.
