Your whole body feels stiff and tense as you roll over, wrapping the sheets tighter around yourself. The light from the blinds warms your face as your eyes slowly flutter open.
There's a strong smell making its way into the bedroom. Bacon. Pancakes. Breakfast. But it's not the smell of food that really wakes you up. It's two voices from downstairs. Two voices you recognize.
The small laugh of a little boy. Jack Hotchner, to be exact. That's when your eyes shoot open completely.
"Fuck," You mutter softly and hurriedly rush to put on some clothes. That's when you remember you didn't show up in any clothes. You never meant to fall asleep in Hotch's bed. After your little stint in the rain, Hotch drove you back to his place. You wore some of Hotch's clothes and passed out in his bed.
You look around and notice a pile of your neatly folded and freshly washed clothes from the other night. You let out a sigh of relief and slip on your jeans before rummaging through Hotch's drawers for one of his dress shirts. You do your best to tuck the button down into your pants. You search through his bathroom and finally find a clean comb, trying your best to comb through your matted hair.
As you reach to open the bedroom door you hear Jack laughing again. This time, however, Hotch's laugh joins in with his. Just hearing his laugh puts a small smile on your face. It's not often that Hotch laughs but when he does it's not what you would expect from such a serious man. His laugh is playful and it never fails to make you happy.
You walk down the stairs, glancing into the kitchen. Hotch holds Jack up in his arms, holding him close enough to the stovetop that Jack attempts to flip over the pancakes with a spatula. You laugh a little at the sight: Jack gripping the large spatula in his tiny hands as Hotch struggles to hold him away from the hot pan.
"Good morning," You finally speak up and Hotch turns his head to look at you. He gives a small smile and looks over your outfit, probably taking in the fact that you're wearing his shirt, and quite honestly pulling it off flawlessly.
"Daddy, is this one done?" Jack calls and pokes at one of the pancakes with the spatula.
"Not yet buddy," He puts Jack down, "You remember Y/N? She works with me."
You walk forward and give Jack a small high five, "What's up big guy?" You grin and Jack places his arms behind his back, leaning against Hotch's legs.
"Did you and my dad have a sleepover?" Jack asks, reaching to latch a small fist onto the bottom of Hotch's jeans.
You glance up and grin at Hotch, "Yeah. You had one last night too, at your Aunt Jessica's place right?"
"Yeah I stay there while Daddy fights the bad guys," Jack turns back to Hotch, "Daddy the pancakes!" He jumps slightly and Hotch laughs, picking him up to hold him over the stovetop again.
"Help yourself to some coffee," Hotch nods at the pot of coffee and you move to grab a mug, pouring a cup and leaning against the counter, watching Jack excitedly flipping the food.
"Y/n do you want chocolate chips in your pancakes too?" Jack plunges his hand into a bowl of chocolate chips and pulls out a fistful, tossing them into the pan. You laugh as Hotch struggles to hold him in place as Jack squirms around.
"I would love some, thank you," You watch as Jack plops two extremely misshapen pancakes onto your place with a large toothy grin. You grab it and brush a soft touch over Hotch's shoulder. He puts Jack down and all three of you set up at the table to eat.
Jack spends the entirety of breakfast telling you all about his lego collection and the sets he's completed.
"Jack, buddy, as much as I'm sure Y/n wants to continue to hear all about your building," Hotch chuckles, "You need to wash up." He nods at Jack who smiles at you giving a small wave.
"I want to show you my Legos sometime! Do you like building too?" He slides off his chair.
You nod, "I would love to build a set with you, buddy." You ruffle his hair playfully and he clutches your legs, giving you a small hug.
"You should invite her over to play with us, Dad," He nods at Hotch and you smirk.
"Go get washed up buddy," Hotch pats Jack's back lightly and Jack goes running off to his room upstairs.
You stand up and gather up the dirty dishes, carrying them to the sink and let out a small breath.
"I think Jack had a lot of fun with you," Hotch wraps his arms around you from behind, "You should spend more time with him, I think he'd really like that. I'd really like that..." He bends his head down to kiss your neck and shoulders gently.
"You should've told me he was going to be home today," You mutter under your breath.
"You were just so exhausted last night I didn't want to wake you up to tell you when I left to go pick him up," Hotch pulls his head away from your neck but keeps his arms wrapped around your waist.
"Well, it's kind of unfair for you to just throw this all on me," You drop the dish into the sink harshly and turn in his arms to look up at him.
"What are you talking about? Did I do something wrong?" Hotch's eyes search your face.
"I didn't think I was going to be meeting your kid today."
"You've met Jack before." His brows furrow.
You glance up the stairs, to make sure Jack is out of earshot, "We're sleeping together, Hotch, I didn't plan on spending my morning playing replacement Haley."
As soon as you say it, you know you've taken it too far. Hotch is quick to pull away from you and cross his arms over his chest. "Don't talk about her. You know nothing about her." His voice is steely, devoid of all warmth and emotion it had just seconds ago.
"I don't understand what you want from me," You argue back, not letting up despite realizing you've pushed it too far this time, "You should've told me Jack would be here."
"Why? So you could run away from anything remotely real, like always?"
"I do not run-"
"Dad! I can't get the water on!" Jack's small voice rings out loudly, cutting you off. Hotch turns and shakes his head.
"Be right up bud!" He nods and drops his hands to his sides, rubbing his thumb and forefinger together, "I think you should leave." He turns away from you and leaves the kitchen. You stand there for a second, opening your mouth wanting to ask how exactly he expects you to get home when he's the one who drove you to his place. The nearest bus or metro stop is nearly 2 miles away.
You snatch your bag and phone from the table by the door and slam it shut as you storm across his lawn onto the street. You start walking along the sidewalk and flip your phone over, dialing the first person you can think of.
"Y/n?" Reid's voice comes through the line clearly. You hear him turning pages in the background and smile slightly at the thought of the young genius flipping through a book at high speed.
"Can you pick me up?" You glance around at the street signs and kick at the brick sidewalk beneath your feet.
"Where are you?"
You look around again, "About a block away from Hotch's." You mumble, feeling your face flush with embarrassment. You feel like a teenager running away from home, or a young girl who just got dumped at a school dance. The way your voice lowers as you say it to Reid, ashamed that you've let such a silly relationship affect you so intensely.
"On my way." Reid hangs up and you plop yourself down on the sidewalk. You know you look silly just sitting there, but you don't want to keep walking and you have nowhere else to wait for Reid to show up.
Reid finally pulls up in his small, beat-up car and you rush to open the door to get in. You see him give you a small sideways glance but you don't meet his eye line. He knows to take that as a sign to give you your space. He waits for a beat before driving off.
You pick at your nails in your lap and Reid finally asks the question he's probably been dying to ask. "Are you okay?"
"Yep." You're curt and short with him.
"Did Hotch do something to you? Did something happen?" His hands wring around the wheel slightly.
"Why does it matter? You going to beat him up for me?" You try to tease your friend but your words are biting.
"No, I just... I just want to make sure my friend is okay," His voice is small and you shake your head again.
"Just fine. Absolutely perfect." You're not sure why you're quite so angry. You're not even sure why you snapped at Hotch. He's not wrong though. You do push everyone away. You isolate yourself. Your relationship with Hotch is no different.
You barely wait for the car to come to a complete stop in front of your apartment before getting out of the car. "Thanks, Spence." You slam the door and walk into your building.
"See you tomorrow, I guess," Reid's voice calls out from behind you as you storm inside.
——
You stir a small pot of boiling water absentmindedly and replay your fight with Hotch from earlier. You know why you're pulling away. It wasn't like you hadn't been in relationships before but you have never felt like this before Everything with Hotch felt real. And when things get real someone always ends up getting hurt. In your mind, it's easier to avoid the hurt by completely avoiding the relationship altogether.
The phone rings a few times and you reach for it, pressing it to your ear as you pour in the pasta, "Hello?"
"I don't like the way we ended things today," Hotch sighs out. You can hear the sound of a horn, assuming he's in the car driving.
"Yeah," Your voice is a whisper.
"I just dropped Jack off at the movies for his friend's birthday," Hotch pauses, "Can I come over and we can talk about things? I'd like to apologize for my behavior."
"Sure," You state simply before hanging up the phone. You finish cooking your dinner and just as you're making yourself a bowl you hear the doorbell ring. You rush to open it and see Hotch standing, his hands shoved in his pockets. "Come in," You nod and turn back to walk to your kitchen.
Hotch kicks off his shoes and follows close behind you. "I didn't mean to snap at you," Hotch leans against the doorway in your kitchen. You stand at a distance, pushing the pasta around in your bowl with your fork. "It's just..."
"I shouldn't have brought up Haley like that," You shake your head, "It was cruel of me."
"Whatever made you think that I was trying to turn you into someone you're not? I don't want you to be Haley," Hotch bites his lip slightly before walking closer to you, "I want you just the way you are."
"Garcia said that you—" You start to speak but stop and start over, "I'm not mother-material, Hotch. I don't even want to be a mother right now."
"I'm not asking you to do that," He tilts his head to the side as he speaks. "I just don't understand why you always do this. You always self-sabotage."
"Please stop profiling me," You let out frustratedly. Quite honestly, you're exhausted. You're tired of fighting yourself. And Hotch isn't wrong. You do self-sabotage. You ruin everything for yourself, You make yourself the villain in your own story.
"There's a difference between profiling and just getting to know the person I care deeply about—"
You can't stand to hear him talk any longer. Every word terrifies you. It's all too real, too much, too serious. You push him back, pressing your lips to his desperately.
"Wait," Hotch starts and pulls away, "Can't we talk about this?"
"I'm tired of talking," You groan, "I'm sorry, you're sorry, can we kiss and make up already?" You sense Hotch's hesitation as he runs a hand up to grip the back of your head, pulling you in for another kiss, this time softer.
"You are so frustratingly stubborn," He sighs into your mouth, in between slow kisses.
You grip him by the front of his shirt pulling him through your living room and into your bedroom. You push him back onto the bed with some force. He runs a hand through his ungelled hair, messing it up, letting a few strands of hair fall in front of his face. He shifts around leaning back on his arms as you reach to unbutton your jeans and push them down your legs. Your fingers reach for the buttons on Hotch's shirt that you're still wearing.
He reaches forward and pulls you onto his lap, "Did I mention how fucking hot you look in my shirt?"
"No, please tell me," You smirk and kiss him passionately once again. His fingers snake between the two of you, unbuttoning your shirt and pulling it from your shoulders and deftly unclasping your bra, tossing it to the floor.
"You look better without it," He rests his hands on your hips and you grind your pussy against his growing bulge in his jeans. You feel his hard cock rubbing against you just right and the arousal grows quickly, wet warmth spreading between your legs.
"Always so ready for me," Hotch practically growls and kisses under your jaw nipping lightly. "What do you want, baby?"
"I'm going to ride you at my pace," You groan and continue to grind against him roughly, "I'm in charge," You command and Hotch raises a brow with a small smirk.
"Okay baby, whatever you say," He grins and you reach for his shirt, pulling it up over his head.
You grip both sides of his face and pull him close for another passionate kiss. His hands snake in between you to rub your clit through your panties and your moans melt into his mouth. "Fuck I need your cock now." You groan loudly. Everything is rushed and frantic. You fumble for his zipper pushing his jeans and boxers down just enough to free his erection.
You stroke his cock slowly, "You're going to fuck me until I cum," You groan and slide down onto his cock, letting it fill you fully. You feel his cock twitch inside you as you grind your hips in a circle. You grip his chin tightly in your hands, "Did you hear me?"
"Whatever you want," He groans and grips your hips in his hands tightly.
You begin to bounce your hips, riding him hard and fast. It's sloppy and sweaty as he trails a hand up your back, pulling your hair slightly to tilt you head back so he can kiss the skin on your neck.
He kisses down the center of your neck down between your breasts. As you continue to ride him roughly, your pussy clenching around him. You're already close and your hand flies to your clit to rub circles. "Kiss me as I cum around your cock," Your eyes flutter open and you look down at Hotch.
He leans up, removing his hands from your hips where he's left small crescent cuts from his nails, and cups your cheeks. You keep your hands on his shoulders, helping you maintain your bruising pace. As his lips move against yours, you feel the knot building in your stomach, and before you even have a chance to say anything you feel your legs tremble as your pussy clenches and you orgasm around his cock.
As you orgasm, Hotch takes over and thrusts up to meet your hips, extending your orgasm, sending your eyes rolling back into your head.
"Fuck Aaron! Cum inside me," You cry out and you feel his cock pulsating rhythmically inside you before you feel his warm load released inside of you. You pant heavily and rest your head on his shoulder, lacking the energy to move as your legs continue to shake slightly as you come down from your orgasm.
After a beat, you finally manage to remove yourself from his lap and move to the bathroom. You pee quickly, wash your hands, and exit the bathroom to start grabbing your clothes from the floor. Hotch has pulled his jeans and boxers back up but remains planted on the edge of your bed.
"You know I've never been to your place before. You always come to mine," He nods and you barely give him a second glance as you dress.
"Oh... Yeah, I guess I do," You nod simply.
Hotch's hands are intertwined in his lab and he rubs them together absentmindedly, "I guess that makes it easier for you to get out afterward." You can tell he's trying to joke but his words come out in a serious tone.
Your head shoots up to look at him, "Come on, that's not fair."
"I understand," Hotch shrugs, "I understand the fear of commitment. I mean you're young and you don't want to tie yourself down with an older man with a kid and serious emotional baggage from his dead ex-wife."
You feel the small ignition of fire deep inside you. there's nothing you hate more than when Hotch profiles you. And just a few minutes ago you were expressing to him how much it infuriates you when he does, "I'm so fucking tired of you trying to profile me, read me like I'm some unsub we're trying to catch."
"I'm not—"
"You are," You snap, your words dripping with anger and poisonous rage, "I get it. It can be hard to turn off the profiling. But this works because we don't do that to each other. We don't need to try and understand one another on this deep emotional level." You fully dress and bend down to toss him the shirt he was wearing and the shirt you took from him. There's a long silence as you grab your brush from your dresser, brushing through your hair and waiting for Hotch to dress.
"This... this is toxic." Hotch finally speaks up, breaking through the silence.
"What?" You turn to look at him.
"We fight and you come so close to being real with me, to being honest with yourself and then you push it all away. Mask it with sex." He shakes his head, standing up.
You can't even think of what to say, because honestly, he's not wrong, so you just roll your eyes and scoff. You turn back to your mirror, running your fingers through your hair.
"You can't just fuck the feelings away." Now Hotch is the one with venomous words for you, "I mean do you care about me? The way I care about you?"
"I..." You pause and take a deep breath, "I care about what happens to you."
Hotch lets out a small bitter laugh, "That's not the same thing and you know it."
"Hotch I..."
"You're keeping yourself at a distance from me. You pick up and leave as soon as the sex is over. You can't even call me Aaron unless we're fucking. You pull away from me any time things get serious."
"Pulling away? I'm not pulling away. I'm sorry I don't want to curl up in bed and cuddle with you." You roll your eyes.
"Jesus, Y/n you think this is about cuddling?" His hands clench and unclench at his sides and you see him rub his thumb against his fingers, the way he always does when he's anxious or stressed or angry.
"Look, this works well because there are no commitments. No priorities. We don't owe each other anything. I mean for fucks sake I only ever slept with you the first time as a rebound."
Hotch scoffs and shakes his head, "Wow."
"Don't act like that's news to you." You point an accusatory finger at him, "You knew full well what that night was when it happened."
"Yeah, well a lot about us has changed since that night." You feel your heart racing and you can't contain your frustration. However, the way that Hotch remains so calm, so stoic, sends you further into your anger.
"This is supposed to work because we're both satisfied with what this is and we don't expect any more."
You can see Hotch hesitate. He opens his mouth to speak but stops himself.
Your face falls, your heart sinks, "You expect more."
"Of course I expect more. Y/n I'm fall-"
"Don't say it, Hotch," You warn him.
"Say what? That I'm falling in love with you? Because I am." He's progressed to walking closer to you. His body is just a few inches away from you and you so badly want to pull him close and admit your feelings.
"I just can't... I can't," You feel the sickness growing in the pit of your stomach. The anxiety grows and you pull away from him, crossing the room to build the space between the two of you.
Hotch pauses before turning around to look at you, "Can't... or won't?"
"What's the difference?"
"The difference is I think you're consciously fighting your feelings for me and I can't wait around for you to finally decide to let yourself feel something real." Hotch fires off. His voice is steady. He speaks to you like he's delivering a profile to the idiotic cops you work with every day and yet again, that infuriates you.
"Then stop waiting around for me" You shoot back. Your words make Hotch pause.
"Maybe I will."
"Fine."
"God you just always have to have the last word, don't you?"
"What the fuck are you talking-" Your blood is boiling. You clench your fists tightly at your side and just as you feel yourself about to explode with anger, Hotch's phone rings. He reaches into his pocket and pulls the phone up to his ear.
"Hotchner. Mhm. Yes, I understand. We'll be there soon." He pulls the phone away from his ear and hangs up. You know exactly what that face means.
"We have a case, don't we?" You let out a frustrated sigh.
"We'll talk about this later. We're not done here." Hotch scolds you lightly.
You move to grab your go-bag from the closet, giving Hotch a dismissive shake of your head, "No, actually, I think we are."
Author's note:
uh oh.... y/n says she's done but is it... for good? y'all pls don't hate y/n. she's being dumb, i know. but it's because she IS SELF SABOTAGING. SHE KNOWS SHE'S WRONG OK?
IM SORRY for taking FOREVER TO UPDATE! I LOVE U ALL IM JUST BUSY AND LAZY.
BUT!!! the angst is picking up! this story is probably only going to end up being 15 or 16 chapters because I never intended it to be super long but I am in the process of starting and planning a new hotch fic for after this that I think will BLOW Y'ALL AWAY. ANYWAY
I <3 you all.