Ok Shy Bau Reader And The Team Finally Managed To Get Her To Come A Rossi Dinner Party So She Can Meet

ok shy bau reader and the team finally managed to get her to come a rossi dinner party so she can meet the rest of the team families that she hasn’t met yet, maybe after her first date with hitch and the team realized quickly she softened very fast with the kids and jack and her just seemed to click really fast and jack had her talking more than any of the team has so far… hotch is star eyes

hotch x shy!bau!reader \\ Dinner and Delights

Warnings: brief mention/allusions to Christianity. Otherwise, fluff! More insight into what Aaron is thinking :) I got very carried away, I hope you enjoy <3

"Woah hot stuff, where are you going so fast?" Morgan intercepts you with an arm around your shoulder as you attempt to slip out of the BAU unnoticed. "Hopefully to get ready for our big dinner plans?"

It's not that you don't want to go to one of Rossi's famous dinner parties, you're just afraid that your sub-par social skills would be noticeable by tenfold in a more casual environment.

At work, you can hide your quietness by talking about the psychology of the unsub, your specialty as a licensed psychologist. You can pretend you're not hiding in your shell when the team is all laughing and talking about personal lives by quietly listening while pretending to read your maps and journals. You can observe them and spend time with them, because you do truly love them all at this point, without feeling bad that you prefer to listen over talk.

And that's really it - you prefer to listen to them. You would say you've all but warmed up to all of them. You like Morgan's teasing, Emily's stories, Reid's rambling, Rossi's sarcasm, and Hotch's...

Everything, but the thought snaps you back to the present before you can dwell on memories of a sweet date in a dark restaurant.

"Of course," you succeed, nodding and sending him a tight-lipped smile.

"Hey," he slows you down and stops in the hallway, turning you to face him gently before lifting his hands in a placating gesture as if you were an animal he expects to run. "You don't have to do anything you're not comfortable with but I promise none of us are trying to lead our little lamb to slaughter. We know you're quiet," the admission embarrasses you and makes you feel guilty pleasant that he sounds so gentle about it, "and nobody minds, I think it's cute and I think the rest are just happy our other genius isn't as vocal as Reid."

Your nose scrunches at the small dig and you open your mouth to protest at putting Reid down to lift you up.

"And look at that! Another thing we all love - you're quiet but won't let anyone say anything about the other behind their back. You're a good person, we all just want to spend some less-intense time with you. So, go home and doll yourself up, and get ready to see Hotch wine tipsy. We all know that's your main motivator." Morgan winks at you and moves quickly down the hall and away from you, laughing, before you can protest.

He's not wrong, though, and you shake your head as you move toward the elevator.

You end up on Rossi's doorstep, choking the neck of a bottle of expensive wine between two sweaty palms. Your heart is in your throat, nerves humming in anticipation.

Your team cares about you. Nobody expects you to be anything you're not. Gentle affirmations meant to soothe over your skin in gently lapping waves erupt into steam; like water hitting lava rock. You're too tense, too worried about not saying enough or too much; saying the wrong thing or saying the right thing only once and never living up to the expectation of repeated occurrences.

"Hey," Emily says from behind you. You turn to see her jogging up to stand beside you, brushing off her pants and adjusting her jacket. "You brought wine!" She cheers happily, reaching past you to turn the nob and open the door.

She gestures you inside, making no comment about your obvious hesitance. With her by your side, your nerves are calmed. Aside from Aaron, she's the easiest for you to be around. You don't feel any expectations with Emily. She doesn't talk too much or too little, doesn't push, doesn't ever send a pitying look when you opt out of activities outside of work.

"Château Lafite," you say to her, lifting the wine and shaking it gently in the air as you walk inside.

"Oh! Fancy wine."

"Wine?" Rossi asks, rounding a corner. He's dressed slightly more casually in a soft sweater and jeans, drying his hands off with a pristine dish towel. "The more the merrier, bring it in here."

You follow his gesture back into the kitchen, leaving Emily to go to what you presume is the living or dining area.

"Where did you find this?" Rossi asks, taking the wine from you to examine it and letting out a low whistle as he appreciates it.

"Just my local winery," you say, neglecting to admit that you go there often enough that the owner leaves the nicer stuff behind the counter for you.

Lonely nights crave wine, twisting them into lovely things you can appreciate. You enjoy your own company after years of quietly observing others. You've learned how to observe yourself, too, after all of these years.

And, even though you don't quite realize it, the self-awareness carries like confidence. That's what Aaron sees in you: observant eyes darting across a room and noticing everything, understanding flickering before anyone else catches a cue, deft movements across the paper while taking notes, and swift motions always with a purpose.

It's what he sees now, hands in the pockets of his dark jeans while he leans in the doorway of Rossi's kitchen, watching you. How could he not? You're a lovely creature, always begging for his eyes to settle on you for another second, and then another.

He knows the moment you realize he's in the room, minutes before Rossi. You stand straighter, tilt your chin lower, and are aware far before you tilt your head to the side to send him a soft smile. He returns it before Rossi can catch him. It's a warmth he wants to reserve for you.

"Dave," he interrupts the other man's monologuing about the wine he's sure you already know all about, "Jack would like to know if he and Spencer can use your chess set when he gets here?"

"Of course, I'll get it from my study." Rossi leaves, passing you the wine and gesturing to the opener.

Aaron steps in before you can start the process of opening the wine. He doesn't quite know why, but he wants to do it for you. He finds himself wanting that more and more recently: to do simple tasks for the sole purpose of you not having to do them. Opening doors and pulling out chairs are simple gestures that he did with Hayley, but he wants to do sillier, smaller, things, too. Straighten the pens on your desk back into their cup, reorganize the files on your desktop, untangle the wires of the headphones he really should reprimand you for using at your desk, open a damn bottle of wine he can't pronounce the name of but that he heard you say so gently to Emily as you walked in.

"Jack's here?" You ask, handing him the wine and crossing your arms over your chest as you lean back against the counter to watch him work.

He relishes how your eyes focus on his arms, pupils dilating, as his muscles work under his thin henley.

"Yes, I have him this weekend and he likes to spend time with Reid and Garcia."

He has to step closer to reach above you to get the wine glasses. He could ask you to step aside, tuck his hand against your waist to move you himself, or simply walk into the next room to grab the glasses sitting on the table. But, instead, he tucks one foot in between yours, puts one hand on the back of your head to guard it from the cabinet, and opens it to find the nicer crystal there.

Your breath hitches across his neck and he remembers the chaste kisses he's given you before. Nothing serious, nothing has been yet because he's waiting for you to lead him into that, but tantalizing nonetheless. He steps back to pour the wine, standing closer to you than he started.

A little for you, passed gently, and then a little for him. Dave could pour his own glass.

You take the wine and sip it slowly, tongue darting out to taste before you sip. He's reminded of communion as a child. The blood of christ, sacred, something to be tasted but not meant to satiate. Reverence in a sip, devotion in a small act.

He wants to give you the same thing. The desire hits him in the sternum, suddenly, leaving him winded as he watches you lower the glass. Your eyes are locked on his, you haven't seemed as hesitant about holding his gaze recently - something that makes him melt - and he wonders if you can feel how he wants to take care of you. How he wants to show you the same force that water uses to carve canyons. Persistence and pressure, time and care. He's willing to take his time, he's filled with the same patience as everything all together in nature. He's a rabbit perched on its hind legs, sniffing the wind for safety before darting forward; the bird hung in flight between beats of wings, the whisper of wind carrying small seeds miles away to wait and watch the growth. Wait, wait, wait, however long it takes, he's there. For you.

It's a strong feeling to fully realize in David Rossi's kitchen, but he's grateful for it, anyway.

"It's good," you comment softly, eyes smiling.

"Is it?" He asks, setting his glass down and retaking his spot nearer to you. He misses your warmth. "Can I?" He asks, brushing his fingers across your jugular before cupping your cheek.

"Taste the wine?" You tease, eyes flickering to his glass. The gentle jest pulls a chuckle from his chest. Another thing you've become more comfortable doing around him. His blood and bones sing at how familiar you can be with him.

"Yes," he says in a breath, dipping his head down to brush his lips against yours.

And you're reciprocating - you've always reciprocated, enthusiastically, just never in the pressing way you are now. You set down your own glass to hold his arms in both of your hands. Fingers dig into his arm as you sigh and open your mouth, new lands to explore, tilting your head back to grant him full access.

"Daddy?" Jack asks and Aaron pulls away, a man parched and staring at an oasis in the middle of a desert, before Jack can round the corner. He doesn't go far, though, hand traveling down to the small of your back as he turns.

"Jack?" Aaron replies, waiting for him to come around the corner.

"Hello," Jack says, stopping in the doorway and looking up at you with wide eyes.

You've met him a few times before, always in passing, but you still smile warmly and wave at him.

"Hi, Jack."

"Do you know how to play chess?" Jacks asks. Aaron smiles at the eagerness on his son's face.

"Yes, I do. Would you like to play?"

"Yes please!" Jack jumps forward to grab your hand, pulling you into the living room before you can react.

You go easily, though, following him with a gentle laugh that warms the coldest parts of him. Pieces of him he doesn't think have seen the light in years brighten at the sound. He's heard you laugh before but something about the sight of you laughing because of Jack illuminates needs that he didn't even know he had. Needs you're meeting before he can feel the yawning desire of them.

He follows, unable to resist the desire to see you two interact over and over again. You're setting up the board, listening to Jack chatter on, nodding intently.

Disobeyed Orders

Summary: Being married to your boss has its complications, especially when you have a habit of ignoring orders. Based on this request.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader

Category: Fluff, Angst

Content Warnings: Mild violence, injury, arguing

Word Count: 1.1k

Mars speaks… Thank you so much for the request, I’m sorry that it took so long but I finally found some time to write, I hope I did your request justice!!

Masterlist

The mission had been intense from the start. You knew Aaron — Hotch, here in the field — had ordered you to stay back and cover the rear, but you saw an opening, a chance to catch the unsub off guard. You’d hesitated for a split second, hearing his voice in your earpiece, a mix of command and concern, but the adrenaline took over. You went for it.

Moments later, everything was a blur. The unsub had turned, a knife flashing in his hand, and you’d barely managed to dodge the attack. By the time the team swarmed in, you were grappling on the ground, the unsub subdued but not without a few bruises in the process.

As soon as the cuffs were on, you felt Hotch’s hand on your arm, his grip firm. He pulled you aside, his face unreadable, but his eyes were burning with a quiet fury. “What the hell were you thinking?” he growled under his breath, keeping his voice low so the others wouldn’t hear.

“I saw an opportunity,” you argued, your chest heaving from exertion. “I took it.”

“That’s not your call to make,” he snapped, his hand tightening on your arm. “I gave you an order, and you directly disobeyed it.”

You felt a surge of frustration, tugging your arm free. “I’m not a child, Aaron. I made a decision based on the situation.”

“An incredibly reckless decision,” he countered, his jaw set tight. “You could have been seriously hurt. Or worse.”

You crossed your arms, bristling at the way he was speaking to you like you were just another agent. “I knew what I was doing. I had it under control.”

“Under control?” He almost laughed, but there was no humour in it. “You were pinned down by an armed suspect. That’s not under control, Y/N.”

Your heart pounded, anger simmering beneath the surface. “I’ve been doing this job long enough to know what risks I can handle, Hotch. You don’t get to—”

He cut you off, his voice lowering but still fierce. “Don’t you Hotch me. Not when you just put yourself in danger like that. Not when you’re my—” He stopped himself, glancing around at the team.

You knew what he wanted to say. Not when you’re my wife. But he couldn’t say that here, not in front of everyone. The silence between you was thick with tension, his jaw clenched, and you could see the storm brewing in his eyes.

“Fine,” you muttered, feeling the sting of his words. “Let’s talk about this later.”

He nodded curtly, his expression hard. “Yes. We will.”

Back at the BAU, the air was thick with unspoken tension as you both debriefed with the team. You could feel Hotch’s eyes on you, a steady, burning gaze that only made your irritation grow. You knew the others sensed it too, the way they exchanged glances but said nothing. They all knew you were married to your boss, and while most of the time it didn’t interfere, today was different.

As soon as the debrief was over, Hotch gestured for you to follow him to his office. You walked in, arms crossed, ready for another round. He shut the door behind you, locking it before turning to face you.

“We need to talk,” he began, his voice still low but more controlled now.

“Talk?” you scoffed. “Or are you just going to keep reprimanding me like I’m one of your agents and not your wife?”

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Y/N, you are one of my agents. And on the field, I am your superior. You need to follow my orders.”

“I understand that,” you shot back, your frustration boiling over. “But you can’t expect me to stand by when I see an opportunity to take down a threat.”

Hotch’s expression softened, just a bit. “It’s not about the threat, Y/N. It’s about you. Do you know what it does to me, to see you put yourself in harm’s way like that? To think I could lose you because you wouldn’t listen?”

You blinked, the raw emotion in his voice catching you off guard. “Aaron…”

He stepped closer, his hands reaching out to grip your shoulders, his thumb brushing against your collarbone. “You’re not just another agent to me,” he murmured, his voice strained. “You’re my wife. My everything. And I need you to understand that when I give an order, it’s not just to keep the team safe — it’s to keep you safe.”

You felt a pang of guilt at the fear in his eyes, the way his hands tightened on you like he was afraid to let go. “I know,” you whispered. “But I can’t just stand back and do nothing, Aaron. It’s not who I am.”

He sighed, his forehead resting against yours. “I don’t want you to change who you are. I just… I need you to trust me. To trust that I’ll always have your back, that I’ll always protect you.

You swallowed hard, the intensity of his gaze making your heart ache. “I do trust you,” you replied softly. “But you have to understand that I’m not going to just sit by and let you carry all the weight. I’m your partner — in life and on the field.”

His eyes softened, his thumb tracing circles on your shoulder. “I know,” he murmured. “And I wouldn’t have it any other way. Just… promise me you’ll be more careful. I don’t know what I’d do if anything happened to you.”

You nodded, feeling the tension slowly dissolve between you. “I promise,” you whispered.

He leaned in, capturing your lips in a slow, tender kiss that melted the last of your resistance. You sighed against him, your hands moving to his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your palms.

When you finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his breath warm against your skin. “You drive me crazy, you know that?” he muttered, a small smile tugging at his lips.

You chuckled softly, your fingers tangling in his tie. “It’s part of my charm.”

He laughed, a deep, genuine sound that made your heart flutter. “I suppose it is.”

He kissed you again, deeper this time, and you felt all the frustration and fear of the day melt away, leaving only the warmth of his love and the steady reassurance of his presence.

“I love you,” he whispered against your lips, his voice rough with emotion.

“I love you too,” you replied, your hand cupping his cheek. “And I promise… I’ll try to follow orders. Sometimes.”

He chuckled, pulling you closer. “I’ll take that.”

And in that moment, you knew that no matter how many arguments or tense moments lay ahead, you’d always find your way back to each

Mars speaks… (again) Thank you for reading! Any and all feedback is always appreciated🫶

imagine soft domestic life with rafe

warnings - suggestive, not proofread!

okay okay so you two would live in a little cottage on the outskirts of north carolina. rafe absolutely dreaded the idea at first, wanting to buy a house on the island. after a while, you both came to a compromise; you’d buy a house outside of the outer banks, but stay in the state. all you had to do was buy a ferry ticket if you’d want to visit family!

here you are, baking cookies in the quaint kitchen. you hear rafe’s footsteps and you smile softly as you kneed the cookie dough with a roller. you watch as he rips a piece of cookie dough and puts it in his mouth, sighing at the sweetness. you roll your eyes, slapping his hand when he tries to take another piece, “i’ve already added the egg, don’t want you to get sick,” he lowly chuckles, licking his fingers. “nah, its good, I got a strong immune system,” “I don’t think that’s how that works.” “that’s totally how that works, baby,” he pushes a stray hair that fell on your face, eyes looking down at your pursed lips. “eyes up here.” he lightly scoffs, sitting down on the counter, “rafe, what are you doing?” you lightly chuckle, placing the cookies into the oven. you press a couple of buttons, feeling slight heat radiate off the oven.

“i’ve missed you,” he says softly, blue eyes softening. you walk towards him on the counter, holding both of his hands. he gets off, large frame towering over you. “but you see me everyday, every hour almost,” you giggle, wrapping your arms around his neck. he leans in, lips almost touching yours, “it’s not enough…I need to be with you every minute,” he seals your lips with a kiss, pulling your body towards his.

quickly, he spins you around, setting you on top of the counter while his lips remain on yours. he lifts you from the back of your thighs and carries you to the bedroom, cookies burnt and long forgotten.

taglist - @nemesyaaa @julie123456897 @mfdoomdickrider @grxnde-dwt @littlelamy @rafeeekam @xcinnamonmalfoyx

Just a short little blurb about how you finally let your hair down after keeping it up for most of the years, and Daryl notices.

You never really left your hair down, literally speaking.

Ever since the dead started wreaking havoc on this planet, your hair has been a messy bun or ponytail, which was knotted to no extent from being up, being rinsed with lake or river water.

That was until Alexandria.

Alexandria allowed you to finally be able to let your hair down. You had a brush, shampoo and conditioner, and even a hair dryer.

You never thought you’d see the day to where your hair was clean, knot free and down. It actually shocked you the first time you saw it, how long it had gotten.

You got dressed and went back to blow dry it.

As soon as you walked outside, the people in your group, the ones you were with from the start, were shocked as well.

“Wow, look at that head of hair.” Carol teases, “It’s pretty. You should wear it down more often.”

You smile and shrug, “Yeah, I hope I’m able to.”

You walk away and someone else would say something, then finally, you saw Daryl. He had to do a double take, because to him, you looked like a whole other person.

“Whoa, look at you.” He smirks as you walk up to him, his eyes scanning you, “Y’look like you actually belong here.” Of course he couldn’t just give you a compliment, “Y’look ridiculous.”

You laugh, tilting your head as you flick your hair off of your shoulder, “Yeah, I feel ridiculous.”

“No, no, I didn’t-“

You cut him off, “I’m screwing with you, Dixon.”

He laughs and nods, “uh huh.” He reaches up, twirling the ends of your hair with his fingers, “s’really pretty. Y’got a lot of it, though.”

“I know. I have to learn how to braid it so it doesn’t get knotted.” You look up at him, “It was bad.”

“M’sure, I don’t think I ever seen ya let it down.” He drops his hand, “I like it like this.”

A week later, he shows up and offers to braid it for you, all thanks to Carol for teaching him how to do so.

Here’s a kiss for likin’ and rebloggin’💋

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this is so rafe sitting outside on the patio after a long day. you come out from the kitchen’s sliding glass door with another shallow glass of liquor for him, swaying your frilly-skirt clad hips to draw his attention. you don’t really have to try though, he draws you in with a gentle hand on your waist when you come to him, guiding you to sit on his lap as he takes the drink from your hand.

“thanks, baby.” he rumbles in a groggy voice, sliding his warm palm over your exposed thigh as you sit down. the air is chilly against your skin, the summer having been swept from under you. you get goosebumps — from the air or his touch, you’re not sure — he rubs your leg gently. “you cold?”

“i’m okay.” you answer in a hushed voice, leaning against his warm sweater in hopes he’ll let you stay there forever.

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THE WAY YOU WRITE HOTCH IS ASDFGHJKL, and it makes me wanna scream because I love him so much lol. Can I request "Using pet names" drabble prompt with shy!reader? <3

Hi!! Thank you!!! Thanks so much for requesting a short drabble! I had so much fun writing this one! I hope you enjoy!

Drabble Prompts | Other Writing | Ao3

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Shy!Fem!Reader!

Word Count: 2k

Rating: Everyone

TW: None!

I find myself runnin' home to your sweet nothings

It’s you who lets a pet name slip out the first time. 

The warm, aromatic scent of freshly brewed coffee filled the air as you and Aaron Hotchner sat across from each other at your favorite corner café. It wasn’t often that the two of you found time for a peaceful moment away from the intensity of the BAU, but today, you both managed to sneak out for a late lunch. The soft hum of conversation around you created a cozy atmosphere, making you feel more relaxed than usual.

You sipped your cappuccino, smiling softly as you watched Aaron flip through the menu. He had a slight furrow in his brow, clearly debating over what to order, which made you smile. The rare moments where he looked just like any other person—calm, laid back, and not buried under mountains of paperwork or the weight of cases—made you appreciate these quiet times even more.

“What are you thinking?” you asked, tilting your head as you glanced over the options yourself. “The sandwich you always get?”

Aaron looked up from the menu, his lips curling into a small, amused smile. “Am I that predictable?”

“Maybe a little,” you teased, feeling more comfortable in the easy, casual environment.

He chuckled, setting the menu down. “I suppose I do tend to stick to what I know. What about you?”

You shrugged, staring down at the menu, though you had already decided. “Probably the soup. It’s always good here.”

Aaron nodded, and as you both settled on your orders, the conversation flowed easily. It always did with him, despite the butterflies you couldn’t help but feel when you were around him. Even though you were naturally shy, there was something about Hotch that always made you feel at ease, even if his quiet intensity sometimes made your heart race.

After the waitress took your order and left, you leaned back in your chair, watching the way Aaron absentmindedly tapped his fingers on the table. It was one of his subtle habits that you had grown to notice. It was like he always had to be doing something—thinking, analyzing—even in the most relaxed moments. But now, there was a softness in his expression that made you feel warm inside.

“I’m glad we could get out today,” you said quietly, smiling. “It’s nice to just… take a break with you.”

His eyes softened as he looked at you, his voice just as gentle when he replied, “I’m glad too. We don’t get to do this nearly enough.”

Your heart fluttered at the way he said it, like these moments meant just as much to him as they did to you. There was a calmness in his presence that you’d come to cherish. You felt safe, cared for, even in the little things, like how he always made sure your coffee was topped up before getting his own or how he positioned himself in a way that made you feel like the world could disappear for a while.

Before you could think, the words slipped out: “You’re sweet, you know that, babe?”

The second the word left your lips, you froze. Your eyes widened slightly, and your hand came up to cover your mouth in surprise. You hadn’t meant to say it—not “babe.” It wasn’t a word you had ever used with him before, and certainly not in public. It just slipped out, so naturally, as if it had been sitting there, waiting to make its debut.

You braced yourself for his reaction, your cheeks already turning pink from embarrassment, but when you looked up, you were met with a look of pure amusement on Aaron’s face.

“Babe?” he repeated, arching an eyebrow as a slow, teasing smile spread across his lips. His voice was filled with warmth and playfulness. “Did I just hear that right?”

You felt your face heat up, but you weren’t exactly embarrassed, just a little flustered by how easily the word had slipped. “I, uh… I didn’t mean—well, I did, but…”

Aaron chuckled, leaning forward slightly, his eyes dancing with amusement. “No need to backtrack now,” he teased. “I have to admit, I didn’t see that one coming.”

You pressed your lips together, trying to hide the shy smile threatening to spill out. “I guess it just… slipped out.”

“Slipped out, huh?” He rested his chin in his hand, watching you with that signature smirk of his. “I think I like it.”

“Really?” You blinked, surprised by his reaction.

“Yeah,” he said, leaning back in his chair, clearly enjoying your flustered state. “It’s got a nice ring to it. But I have to say, I wasn’t expecting you to be the one to start with the pet names.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “Well, I guess there’s a first for everything.”

Aaron’s gaze softened as he reached across the table and gently placed his hand over yours. His thumb brushed lightly against your knuckles, his touch warm and reassuring. “You don’t need to be so shy about it,” he said, his voice gentle. “I think it’s cute.”

Your blush deepened at his words, but this time, you didn’t shy away. “I’m not shy… just cautious,” you said, feeling more playful than usual.

He chuckled again, the sound deep and soothing. “Well, I’d like to hear it again sometime… babe.” He teased further. 

The way he said the word sent a wave of warmth through you, and you found yourself grinning, unable to contain it any longer. “I think I can manage that.”

The teasing smile never left his face as he held your gaze. “Good, because I think you’re stuck with it now.”

You laughed, feeling more comfortable and at ease than ever. “And what about you?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. “Are you going to start calling me pet names too?”

Aaron’s expression softened as he considered it for a moment, then leaned in a little closer. “I think I can manage that,” he said, his voice low and affectionate. “How about ‘sweetheart’? Or maybe ‘honey’? I’ve got a few in mind.”

You rolled your eyes playfully, unable to hide the smile spreading across your face. “I guess I can live with that.”

“Good,” he said with a satisfied smile, giving your hand one more gentle squeeze. “Because I plan on using them a lot.”

It wasn’t soon after that, that Aaron began using them more regularly. Something about hearing him say these endearing names still managed to put butterflies in your stomach.

Tonight, the BAU office was quiet. The bustling activity of the day had finally settled down, and most of the team had left for the night. Aaron Hotchner sat at his desk, the soft glow of his desk lamp illuminating the pile of paperwork he still needed to get through. His focus wavered as he heard a familiar soft knock at his door.

“Come in,” his deep voice called, calm yet commanding, as always.

You peeked your head in, offering a small, shy smile as your eyes met his. You had been working late as well, trying to tie up loose ends from the case you’d just closed. But it wasn’t the case that brought you to his office. It was him.

“Hi,” you said softly, stepping inside and closing the door gently behind you.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Aaron replied, a warmth spreading through his tone that he only ever used with you. It was one of those things that made your heart flutter, even after all this time together. “What are you still doing here?”

You shrugged, walking over to him as you wrung your hands nervously. You never quite got used to how he looked at you, that mixture of care and admiration, like you were the only person in the world when he set his eyes on you.

“I just... wanted to see you before I left,” you murmured, standing in front of his desk. “And I figured you’d still be here working.”

Aaron’s lips curved into a small smile as he leaned back in his chair, his hand extending toward you. “C’mere, honey.”

You took his hand, your heart speeding up at the simple touch, and he gently pulled you into his lap. You blushed, settling into the familiar warmth of his embrace as his arms wrapped securely around you. The door was closed, and you were alone with him—one of the rare moments when you didn’t have to worry about anyone seeing or the walls he kept up as the BAU’s stoic leader.

“You work too hard,” you whispered softly, leaning your head against his shoulder. “You need to rest.”

“I could say the same thing about you,” he replied, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “You’re always looking after me, aren’t you?”

“I try,” you giggled, your shyness melting away a little in his presence. “Someone has to.”

His thumb stroked gently along your arm, and he kissed the top of your head again, this time lingering just a bit longer. “My sweet girl,” he whispered against your hair, his voice low and affectionate.

The pet name--your favorite pet name--sent a rush of warmth through you, making you hide your face against his neck as your cheeks burned. Aaron chuckled softly, clearly amused by your reaction.

“You’re so cute when you blush,” he said quietly, his hand lifting to cup your cheek. “I told you I planned on using these names a lot,” There was a comfortable pause,  “How did I get so lucky to have you in my life?”

Your heart swelled at his words, and you tilted your head slightly to meet his gaze. Even after everything you’d been through together—the cases, the danger, the long nights—he always found a way to make you feel like you were the most important thing in his world.

“I think I’m the lucky one,” you admitted shyly, your fingers tracing small patterns on his chest. “You’ve always been there for me, Hotch.”

“Hey,” he interrupted gently, his fingers lifting your chin so that you were looking into his warm brown eyes. “What did I tell you about that? Call me Aaron when we’re like this.”

“Aaron,” you corrected with a small smile, loving how his name sounded on your lips in these moments.

“That’s better,” he whispered, his lips brushing lightly against yours. “My sweet girl.”

You melted into the kiss, your hands sliding up to rest on his shoulders as you felt the familiar comfort and safety of being in his arms. Aaron’s kiss was soft and gentle, his way of showing you how much he cared without words. When he finally pulled away, his forehead rested against yours, and you could feel the steady rhythm of his breathing as he held you close.

“I love you,” you whispered, your voice barely audible but filled with sincerity.

“I love you too, sweetheart,” he replied without hesitation, the words leaving his lips easily now after everything you’d been through together. “Always.”

You smiled against his lips as he kissed you once more, longer this time, savoring the peaceful moment between you. There were no worries here, no cases or paperwork—just the two of you, wrapped up in each other and the sweet nothings that passed between you.

In his arms, you felt like you were home. And with him calling you all those sweet names, you knew this was exactly where you were meant to be.

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