Hotch + Final Moments

you gotta write for your dick not the stats

Reblog if your blog is boopable-safe so you can get all the (probably new) achievements. I don’t care about notes I just want boops

I was at a ren faire with my mom and I saw a belt with cool leather pouches on it for $3759 and I whispered to her, “You know, if it weren’t for the price tag I’d totally get that,” and she was like “Go for it! It’s only $3000! That’s nothing!” And I was like *surprised pikachu face*.

Jade can we get hotch and his daughter again I miss them!!!!!

You’ll confess to liking your father’s new apartment. It’s well-furnished and warm. It’s nothing like the house, though. You can hardly tell anyone lives here when you aren’t putting your laundry bag by the washer-dryer to go in next, the bedroom especially untouched. You suspect your father lives out of his wardrobe and go-bag, as it’s called. 

Different to the house. You’re always welcome. No strange silences pervade when you come knocking —if Aaron’s home, he opens the door already having pulled the chain lock down to let you in, and, despite his apparent stress and budding depression, he asks you what you need. 

How was school? How’s your studying coming along? Did you find a potential grad outfit yet? Did you need a check for that? 

It’s too much, sometimes, but not because you don’t want it. 

You hesitate at the door. From inside, you can hear the barest hum of the TV. Maybe he’s actually relaxing for once. Maybe you should leave poor Aaron alone. 

You’re selfish. “Dad?” you ask, letting some excitement colour your voice, “Hello! Are you napping?” 

It’s gotta be five quick seconds before the doors being pulled open. “Hey, sweetheart,” he croaks, all tired eyes and rumpled pajamas as he stands aside. You dodge his arm, laughing at his disgruntled groan. “You can go home if this is what I have to deal with.” 

You let him close the door and lock it before you turn back to him. “Tell me you weren’t just sleeping on the couch? I thought we had a few more years.” 

“I was asleep in bed.” 

“You got to the door super fast.” 

“I was getting up. We got home late,” —he drags a hand over his face— “and I didn’t sleep on the jet. Let me go get dressed and we’ll go for breakfast.” He checks his watch. “Uh, dinner.” 

“Or we could order in?” 

He sighs in relief. “Or we’ll order in. Good idea.” 

You don’t comment as he steps past you to the couch. You’ve missed your opportunity for a hug. It’s your own fault for dodging the first one. 

You slip out of your shoes and leave them neatly by the door, hanging your jacket on the hook, and your sweater on the back of the couch. He holds up a hand as you sit down on the couch and you take it for what it is, a beckoning to sit near enough for him to hold your shoulder. “Alright?” he asks, touching the side of your face with his knuckles briefly, before leaving you to your personal space. “You look tired. I don’t mean that unkindly. How have you been sleeping?”

“You’re the third person to tell me that today, but I don’t feel tired.” 

“Maybe you just need something to eat,” he says. “Pass me the phone, honey, I’ll call for us.” 

He calls. You listen to him talk. You love how polite he is to everyone and especially people who work jobs like you did. Despite his titles and expertise, he doesn’t condescend. He says thank you twice. And he orders all your favourites, so you have to give him double the credit for being observant. 

You slip a ways down into your seat and look Aaron over. To no one’s surprise, having a father who cares about you is easy work for the heart. Your life is changed. He’s good, and you like being around him, but it’s a funny thing to look at this man you’ve known for a year and to know you love him. He really is everything you ever wanted, as a kid. He isn’t picking you up from sleepovers or rubbing your back when you cry, but you’re sure he’d do both of those things if asked. You like that you can come here without asking. You like that he doesn’t care why.

He doesn’t look young, exactly, but he doesn’t look quite old enough yet to have a daughter your age. He could be a coworker. The thought makes you huff. 

“What?” he asks, already smiling. 

“Just thinking about something.” 

“About what?” 

“You’re not as young as you look.” 

He rolls his eyes. “Right, right, I forget that you come here to insult me. You know, Jack told me I was getting more ‘crinkles’ the other day.” 

“Kids say the darndest things,” you tease lightly. 

“I’m not old.” 

“I said you’re not as young as you look, that means you’re doing well.” 

“I think I look right for my age,” he says contritely, but grinning, tipping his head back against a cushion. “It’s good to look your age. It’s a privilege to be old.” 

“I thought you weren’t.” 

“I’m not. I’m just saying… I’m lucky to be here still,” he says, giving you a nudge, “or I wouldn’t know my girl, would I?” 

“And sappy in your old age.” 

“Mm.” He grabs the remote, turning the TV onto a movie channel and upping the volume. “Unfortunately.” 

You turn into him and let your knees touch. You watch TV waiting for your dinner to arrive in companionable silence, not tired but worn, not bored but somehow restless. You wonder if wanting a hug off your dad when you haven’t had very many is wrong of you. But the thing is —is that he really feels like your dad. Just the way he talks to you cements it. Sometimes when you’re with him, you feel like a kid again.

When he touched the side of your face and told you that you looked tired, it felt like a compliment, somehow, the signals all crossed in your head, ‘cos it was nice to be cared for. 

“Dad?” you ask quietly. 

Aaron turns his gaze to yours, not bothering to square away his joy at being called such a thing. “What, honey?” 

“Do you think… would it be really weird if I asked for a hug?” you ask shyly. Heat floods your cheeks and nose, but he doesn’t laugh. 

“Come here,” he says, sitting up a touch, arm extended for you to fold under. He wraps you in, lets you slouch into his touch just like Jack does in those slices of time after dinner and before bed. “Not weird. I mean, you’re a big girl,” —he laughs— “but I don’t think there’s an age limit.” 

“I know that. Just don’t know if you want to.” 

If he sees you wringing your fingers, he ignores it. “Why wouldn’t I want to?” He settles back on the couch, pulling you a little to make sure you go with him. Not like Jack laying bodily atop him, but still a nice hug. 

“Don’t know.” 

You both sort of know why. You’re old. You’re not supposed to want this stuff. You should find it too awkward and the time for affection has passed. And yet. 

He hums softly. “I love you, honey.” 

You know, but it’s nice to be told. “Yeah. Yeah, me too.” 

He doesn’t begrudge the way you put it, sinking again into the couch, his eyes looking heavy with some contentness, but mostly fatigue. “Don’t let me fall asleep before the food gets here,” he says.

“You got it, boss.” 

He gives your shoulder a rough, dad-like squeeze. You laugh and squirm away. After a few seconds apart, he shuffles you back toward him. 

“Is it hard?” he asks. 

“What?” 

“Finishing the year out. Getting ready for your exams. The bar. Is it stressing you out? You can be all caught up on sleep and still exhausted, I’d know.” 

“Yeah, it is. Yeah, but it’s just a few more months. I can do it.” 

“I know you can do it, baby,” he says, drawing your attention from the TV, “that's not in question.” 

His voice is soft like a strip of velvet. You’ve stopped being surprised at his propensity for gentleness, but you don’t always know what to do in the face of it. 

“What are you doing tomorrow?” he asks. 

“Nothing. Just studying.” 

“Okay, so stay the night, the guest rooms calling your name, and tomorrow morning we’ll just study.” 

“Do you even remember–”

“Don’t insult me.” 

“It’s a lot.” 

“I remember. I used to drive Haley mad.” He goes quiet for a bit. Two or three seconds where you know he’s thinking about their separation. “But I couldn’t have done it without her. It’s hard work, committing it all to memory, we can make more flash cards.” 

“That would be nice.” 

“Not exactly helping you with your math homework.” 

“Are you any good at it?” 

“Math?” He laughs. “Not anymore.” 

“You forget all that stuff, right? I knew we would.” 

“Yeah, you do. I had to get rid of all that stuff to make room for work.” 

“Oh, so it was on purpose?” 

“I’ll ignore what you’re implying. I’m gonna eat all the poppadoms when they get here, but I’ll ignore it.” 

“Sick.” 

He shrugs. 

“I’ll tell Jack.” 

“Oh, don’t. If your brother knows we had butter chicken without him he’ll throw a fit.” 

“We can save him some.” 

Aaron lets his face rest on the back of the couch. “Good idea.” 

“Aaron, don’t sleep.” 

He grins. “I’m not. I’m resting my eyes.” 

Ridiculous. “Is it… Can you have Jack tomorrow?” 

“I don’t know. She doesn’t really like it that I’m only having him on the weekends. She says she gets all the hard parts and I have all the fun.” 

You don’t know what to say. “Well, I guess that’s kinda true.” 

“Yeah. Thing is, I can’t say sure, I’ll have him Sunday through to Wednesday because I never know if they’re gonna send me somewhere with the team. I can’t even confidently take him on the weekend. I can’t promise I’ll be here.” 

“I know.” 

He squints at you. “Sorry.” 

“It’s fine.” You give him a rueful smile. “What are you sorry to me for?” 

“It’s not just Jack I’m letting down.” 

“You haven’t let me down,” you say, practicing some of his softness. “Maybe you have let Jack down, I don’t know, I’m not Jack, but so long as you’re trying to do well by him, I think that’s probably enough. You… you and Haley, you’re not sure what’s happening.” You don’t like telling him he and Haley have a happy ending, because everything he’s told you so far doesn’t agree, but you don’t wanna kick him while he’s down either. “It’s okay to need time to like, get things straight. You have the apartment, you have the guest room, you’re offering to have him when you can. You do have to make the effort, but you know that already.” 

“I know, but thanks, honey. You’ve listened to too much of my whining.” 

“You listen to me whine all the time.” 

He squeezes you to him. “I love listening to you.” 

“I don’t mind listening to you, either.” 

“The horrors of adulthood, listening to your deadbeat dad complain.” 

“Shut up, you’re not a deadbeat. You’re stressing me out.” 

“Sorry.” He rubs your arm again and lets you loose. “Oh, sweetheart, I got your snacks, if you’re hungry. They’re in the cabinet by the fridge.” 

“I can wait.” 

He sighs very deeply. You’re sure he’s gonna nod off, but he forces himself to stand. “Thank you for coming over. I couldn’t do this without you.” 

“What, the sad bachelor thing?” You giggle to yourself as he stands up. “Where are you going? I’m just kidding.” 

“I’m getting your snacks.” 

You turn on the couch to watch him. He unveils a bunch of your favourite things from the cabinet. You can see Jack’s fruit snacks, his yogurt covered raisins, and it gives you a chest ache thinking about Aaron all alone this weekend. “You know I do love you, right?” you ask carefully. 

He comes back, looking super tired but not so sad. “I know. I’m the luckiest man alive if I have you and your brother, you know that?” 

“Okay.” 

Aaron laughs, dropping your candies in your lap with a thunk. He got the big bag. “Okay. Tuck into those, and I’ll go see about your bother coming over tomorrow. Did you have pajamas in the laundry?”

“Uh…” 

“I’ll look.” 

You did not wanna get up. “Thanks!” you say, cracking open your bag of candy with a smile, missing the fond look he throws your way from behind. 

Y’ever read something and have understanding that has eluded you interminably suddenly stop, curl up, and snuggle neatly into a fold in your brain because a new way way opened to it?

yes yes acts of violence often evoke eroticism and stabbing someone is potent penetration imagery but sometimes when i kill someone it's just because i want them to die

It's so sad to be in a dead fandom, like what do you mean the last fanfic was published 8 months ago???!?

Thinking about how Hotch almost certainly has The best monologues in the entire show. From “my team? Let me tell you about my team.” To “When im home, it’s like im in this silent panic” to “at your core, you’re a coward” to “sometimes the day just… ends” Hotch has some of the most moving monologues in the entire series and i think its so interesting when you think about how quiet he is normally, he’s so reserved and usually his sentences are clipped and direct, more like orders than monologues, and yet on the other side he has an almost theatric delivery to his monologues that makes it so captivating to listen to, makes you hang on every word. He’s so eloquent and concise, every word he says is so intentionally chosen, and it really lands when you’re watching the show. His monologues will always be the ones that stick out to me the most as some of the best line deliveries in the entire series

”pdf file” “unalived” “grape” “corn” what if i killed myself right here right now

hi honey!! im absolutely feral for dbf hotch so sorry in advance lol 😵‍💫

anyways imagine relaxing with him outside by the pool, and you go to bother him. he's sitting on a lawn chair all spread out, smoking a cigarette and as you come up to sit on his lap he blows the smoke in your face. as you're trying to wave the smoke away you frown and ask him if you could try a puff. ofc he says no but eventually he relents. you're against his chest and he lifts your chin and taps your cheek saying "open" and slides the cigarette in. he guides you, and tells you to inhale and hold it, before exhaling. 😮‍💨😩

A Day Off, a Hot Man, and a Cigarette

Warnings: dbf!hotch, cigarettes/smoking, age gap (both adults), pet names (honey and sweetheart), Aaron being a sexy slut all spread out like that mm mm MM😵‍💫😮‍💨, please let me know if I missed anything!

Word count: 925

Pairing: dbf!hotch x gn!reader

A/n: Oh yes yes yes yes 😵‍💫😮‍💨. Hotch smoking is just 😮‍💨 an idea I love to think about. He's the type of man that just looks so hot like that.

Forever tags: @greg-montgomery @boredelle @hotchsdoormat @ssahotchnerr @criminalskies @beardedhotchh @hotchnerbau @ssamorganhotchner @mrs-ssa-hotch @canuck-eh @luvehotch @callm3c0nfus3d @ivyflowers13 @randomuserrs

Hotch tags: @14buddy22 @htchnr

Let me know if you want to be added to my tags 🫶

Minors please DNI****

Aaron is outside by the pool enjoying his day off. It's finally a nice day out after the near constant rain of the last week and he's spending it at your father's house, which you are incredibly happy about. It's just you and him right now and even though you know he's there for relaxation, you can't help bothering him, not that he minds it at all. He actually likes being bothered by you; by other people...maybe not so much.

He's smoking a cigarette and he looks damn good doing it. The way his chest rises when he breathes in and the way he looks when the smoke leaves his lips has you staring at him. It's almost like you're seeing it in slow motion.

You step outside and walk over to him. He looks so hot like this. His hair is slightly messy and he's spread out comfortably. You sit yourself down on his lap and one of his hands finds its home on your waist. He gives you a small smile which you return with a brighter one.

"Are you enjoying your day off?" You ask him and he subconsciously rubs your side as he looks at you. He nods and takes another drag of his cigarette before blowing the smoke out to answer you. It gets in your face and you try to wave it away. "It's been great. Especially when I get to look at you all day." He winks and smirks at you a little. You're still frowning at the smoke he blew in your face and your eyes follow the hand holding the cigarette.

You barely acknowledge his answer before asking him another question. "Can I try it?" You glance at him and his eyebrows are raised now before going slightly furrowed. You've never asked to try it before. "No, honey. I don't think you should." You pout at his words, frowning deeper now. "Why not? You're doing it." "Because I said so. I don't want you starting a bad habit, sweetheart." You huff and lean forward against his chest, your head resting on his shoulder. You understand his point, but you don't have to like it.

Aaron takes one more drag and thinks about your question some more now that you're pouting and huffing at his reluctance to let you try it out. "Please?" You murmur. He goes back and forth on it for a bit and he finally decides to let you. He breaks.

"Fine. You can try." He says with a small hint of a stern tone, but it is mostly soft. You perk up slightly, not expecting him to change his mind.

"Open." Aaron says after gently lifting your head and tapping your cheek. You're surprised because he'd been so reluctant just moments ago. You do as he says, like you always do, and you part your lips for him. "Good." He speaks quietly and slides the cigarette between your lips. "Close and inhale slowly." He directs you and you follow his instructions. You inhale the smoke, the taste of it is horrible and the feeling in your lungs and throat makes you cough.

Aaron rubs your back and shushes you. "Shh. It's okay, try again. Maybe inhale a little less." His voice is gentle. Your eyes sting with a couple of tears and you blink them away. Your throat burns a tiny bit, but you do it again anyway. You take his suggestion and you don't breathe in as much smoke this time. "Good job; now hold it in." He keeps his hands on you, making sure you're steady and keeping you close after removing the cigarette from your mouth. You keep your eyes on his and wait for him to tell you what to do next. "Hold it a little longer..." His hand moves to your cheek and his thumb rubs the soft skin there, the cigarette between two of his fingers.

"Now exhale." And you do so with a slight cough, but it's not nearly as bad as before. The smoke goes into his face and he doesn't bother waving it away like you had done before. He smiles at you and it nearly takes on the shape of a grin. "There you go. You did very well, sweetheart. But I don't want you doing this all the time, understand?" He praises you and then sets a stern rule for you. He knows he can't really control it if you do start up a habit of doing this, but he knows you like to listen to him. You nod your head. "I know I know. I won't. But...I will say, you look really good like this, Aaron. You look hot. You always do, but there's something about you like this...I can't explain it." He chuckles a little and squeezes your side affectionately. He thanks you shyly. It's not often that he doesn't know what to say to someone, but you seem to bring that side out in him more than he thought was possible.

He finishes off the cigarette, which you can't help but watch him do so, and puts it out before pulling you against his chest again. He wasn't expecting this to be something you liked about him, but he's glad he knows now. He's always finding out about these little things he does that you like and find attractive in him, things he would never think someone could find sexy. You're always surprising him and he is always looking forward to those surprises.