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âȘ day twelve. dinner party stories â #marchhotchness
Ë˰âą*ââ· â [family line] â
pairing: hotchner x fem!reader.
summary: he snickers when he secretly whispers you that and youâre sure this is the family you were born to be after all, it just took you a little while to find it. or: aaron shows what the unconditional love of a family should be like.
content warnings: not proofread, a lot of family issues brought up, weight gain mention (negatively once, then positively), reader's parents being annoying and kind of mean.
word count: 2.4K
      Aaron sees it in your eyes, in your breathing, in the way you move. He sees it in the way youâve been playing more with your necklace and by how you canât seem to stop spinning your engagement ring around your finger. He hasnât seen you this anxious in months, and back then you were working on finishing your dissertation and it collided with the company you worked at losing clients, it was chaos. He knew right now there was no chaos in sight, so it could only mean one thing.Â
      âHoney, did you speak to your parents recently?â His voice is always as soft as a feather when talking to you, even in the rare instances you argue.Â
      You turn from the scrabble pieces and set your wine glass down, not minding the interruption to the cozy game when his voice sounded like that and his eyes looked at you like you were something so precious you could break.Â
      âNo, babe, why dâyou ask?âÂ
      âYouâre fidgeting like an hyperactive kid who hasnât been put on Ritalin yet lately.â His explanation catches you off guard in a way that you almost reprehend him saying his name in a high pitched voice and slapping his arm in between laughter. His smirk shows you just how accomplished he feels that he made you laugh like that.Â
      Aaron takes both of your hands in his, kissing your knuckles and urging you to talk with him just by the way he looked into your eyes, eagerly waiting for you to vent about what was making you so restless.Â
      âI havenât told them about the engagement yet. I want to have them over for dinner, to share the news but they are soâŠâ You sigh profoundly, looking up to the ceiling trying to finish that though in a way that made sense. âDifficult.âÂ
      Aaron knows what difficult really means. It means patronizing. It means unsupportive. Unwilling. Unhelpful. It doesnât mean unloving, but it means old fashioned in a way that it feels unloving. âWe could have dinner in a nice restaurant instead, to ease up some of that pressure.â He suggests, always the problem solver.Â
      âIt would be perfect, handsome, but we did that last timeâŠâ Your voice trails off, laying your head on his lap, urging him to gently pass his fingers through your hair by that act alone, cozying up to him in an attempt to ignore the problem at hand.Â
      Hotch follows your lead, not forgetting to place a kiss on your forehead, but also, not letting the problem go. âAnd my dear future mother in law will start dropping hints again that we donât want them here.â You nod quietly. âAlright. Donât call. Text her inviting them over with the details. Less talking.âÂ
      You groan, âShe will complain about that tooâŠâ
      âOnce theyâre here.â He kisses your forehead, âSo itâs only one,â and your nose, âNight,â your right cheek, âOf,â your left cheek, and youâre already grinning like an idiot, holding in your laughter at his boyishness, âComplaining.â Aaron finishes, brushing his lips against yours. you nod and pull your head up slightly, finally connecting you two in a sweet slow kiss.
      He made it easier, always. Helped you sort your feelings out, helped you find out the less stressing way to solve your problems. It was a joy to have him, to watch how he talked to Jack and see how it should be.
      More often than you would like to admit, you caught yourself thinking wow my parents would not let that slide, and then you would be faced with the reality that they were in the wrong, not Aaron.
      You talked to him about it once, asked how could he be so sweet and so effortlessly so to Jack, his answer came quickly, no hesitation: Jack had lost enough, losing his trust on his dad was not something Aaron would let happen, he didnât want Jack to go through what he had as a child.
      Then it clicked to you once more, how you would never want to treat your hypothetical children like you had been treated too.Â
      You try not to think too much about these things too often nowadays, but even as you laid on Aaronâs chest and felt his fingers lightly, softly, trace designs on your skin, now all you could think about was the damned dinner.
      Your mom wasnât too judgy when it came to what you cooked, your dad was and annoyingly so, always had some remark about what would have made the food better, just like he did to your mother back home.Â
      So first thing you did the next morning was think through all dinners and remarks and find something you could do following his tips to lessen the complaining, Aaronâs idea, of course.Â
      âHe always says my lasagna is delicious but too dry,â You mumble to yourself, but not really, you have your earphones on and Aaron on call, in the office doing reports he was able to entertain you as you picked up ingredients for extra sauce.
      You can hear him smiling, the sound of his aggressive pen on paper stopping for a second, âEven Rossi loves your lasagna, it is delicious. Just give your father a bowl full of sauce, he will be happier.â You snort and he goes back to his papers, satisfied to have made you laugh through the stress.
      Gathering the rest of the ingredients is easy enough, youâre already used to the grocery storeâs layout and setup, you keep him on the line either way, a tradition you both kept whenever you were doing monotonous tasks, even when he didnât speak, listening to his breathing, the shuffling of papers and his pen quickly making work through all his reports made you smile, calmed you down.
      Hotch thought it was silly at first, but quickly warmed up to it when he heard you softly, secretive so, humming songs to yourself as you worked on your own reports, or went shopping, not to mention how adorable he found you to be when you forgot he was on the line and jumped scared as he spoke something.
      Most of all, he loved being immersed in a paper trail and being surprised by a hey I love you right in his ear as if you were there.
      It pained him to know how much of yourself you tried to mute down to please your parents when he loved every single tiny piece of what made you⊠You. Â
      Hotch excused himself from the call to talk to Rossi just as you were about to go back home, satisfied you convinced him to get Rossiâs sauce recipe.Â
      âHers is great, why does she need mine?â Rossi sound almost exasperated, as if Hotch himself had said something about your cooking. He is quick to reassure thatâs not the case and explain how youâre trying to please your father, Dave doesnât seem that much happier about it, always pleased with the dishes you made for dinner parties at his mansion, but he still takes his phone and sends you a voice note explaining each step of his homemade tomato sauce. âAnything else?â
      âI need a favor as well. Iâm gonna need the next weekend off for this.â Hotch begins, he knows Rossi would never mind that, no one would, in fact most people from the Bureau agreed he needed time off. âI know myself enough, I need to be completely off, no calls, no briefings.â Heâs learnt his lesson from too many past mistakes, if he knows the case, if he knows the team needs him, he will be putting his job above anything else, Aaron canât afford to do that anymore, so he prevents it.Â
      His left thumb rubs the side of his index finger, his way to calm his racing thoughts, just the possibility of ruining this dinner has him anxious, this little habit of his was something he hadnât even noticed he did before he met you. It was one of his tells and he never realized before you took his hand in yours and looked sweetly into his eyes saying youâre stimming, whatâs wrong? In the softest tone he had ever heard anyone speak to him.Â
      You were always quick to notice if anyone around you didnât feel well, always a caretaker, it was a sight to take in and a pain to prove you so, being seen as selfish your whole life at home.Â
      That day he got home late, Jack was doing his homework with your help while you worked on a few things on your laptopâa presentation you needed to finish soon as possible to get the next Friday off.Â
      His office had become a shared office with your help, a U shaped desk where both of you could work being one of the first changes you made to it as soon as you moved in, it was perfect and it gave Jack space to sit close to either of you when he needed help.
      The sides faced the walls while and front faced the window where you and Jack sat, focused, it gave Hotch time to lean in the door frame and watch you both.
      âIâm not sure about that one, Jack-JackâŠâ You stop typing to read the question in his book again, impressed with how little you remember of school math. âIf I Google this up, promise not to tell your teacher?â Aaron clears his throat at the question, catching your attention and making you laugh: Caught in the act.Â
      âNo Google, buddy, sorry.â Jack scrunches his nose at his fatherâs ruling out, a loud groan coming from his pre teen little voice.Â
      âTold ya we should have started this earlierrrrââ You tease the boy, insinuating you two would have been able to find the answer online without his dad knowing then, you ruffle his short hair softly, loving the endearing smile he always gives you when you do that.
      His smile quickly turns into a yawn, the weight of the time stamped on Aaronâs watch getting to Jackâs eyes, âIâm sleepy.âÂ
      âYou can finish tomorrow, letâs get you two to bed, buddy.âÂ
      Hotch picks Jack up and the young Hotchner is nothing but a ball of giggles, always saying heâs too big for that now, but obviously still loving the attention.Â
      âEnjoy while you can, Jack-Jack, your old man is not getting any younger.âÂ
      âYeah? Iâm carrying your ass to bed soon too, my back can handle you both for years still.â You and Jack both laugh at him. Itâs always almost as if a harsh mask melted when he got home, in its place would remain his soft features and the bickering you loved so dearly.Â
      It was warm. And kind. Even when he came back home stressed, you never had to worry about accidentally setting him off or saying the wrong thing. It was a completely different dynamic than what you were used to.Â
      It takes a few minutes for Hotch to come back, but he comes ready to make true of his promise, hands straight to your waist to carry you, tickling his way into your defenses, he laughs at your laughter and at how easy you melt to his touch. âIâm just finishing this up, babyyââ Your voice is purposefully whiny, pouting at him and getting a kiss in return, âGo eat your dinner while I do it, I heated it up when I got your text!â
      He stops trying to pull you up his shoulder or around his waist then, the look he gives you then reminds you of why you fell for him: Sweet like caramel, always betraying his known frown.Â
      Aaron looks at you like every act of kindness you do makes him fall in love again, and it does. He traces your features with his thumb in silence, the mix of his calloused fingers and the softness of his actions makes you sigh, leaning into it.
      âI love you. I love our little family.â He kisses your forehead and leaves you to your presentation before you can even reply, before you can even tell him the two Hotchner boys are the first healthy family youâve ever been in.
      You donât even mind your dad complaining about your lasagna having way too much sauce the week after. Aaron eats for the both of them, compliments every single decision you made while cooking.
      The second your mother tells you youâve been gaining weight, Aaron replies with a simple âIf anything, weâre both getting bigger and happier.â A squeeze tight to your knee, stopping you from tearing up at how that was the only thing your mother did notice.
      They seemed happy about the engagement, but not too sure youâll be able to care for him and his child as they needed to be cared for. Youâre forgetful. Youâre not maternal. You worry about work too much.
      Youâre not even sure how good news could lead to such rambling about your flaws but again, before you can either cry or lose control and yellâAaron comes in, his soft smile being completely betrayed by his furrowed brows and stern tone. Heâs trying to be polite. âWe take care of each other well, and together we care for Jack. It works. We work.â
      Itâs simple but effective, what he wants is to shield you, to tell them how lucky they are you grew up as kind and hardworking when all they did was bring you down and doubt your feelings and your dreams.
      He wants to show them drawings Jack made of you and essays he wrote about his family.Â
      But for now he settles on being polite. Thereâs still the whole wedding preparation and the actual wedding to go through. He has time to do all that. Right now he just makes sure to show you and them how much he supports you and how nothing they can ever say will change how he sees you.Â
      At least heâs glad his mother is dead, one less problematic in law to deal with.
      He snickers when he secretly whispers you that and youâre sure this is the family you were born to be after all, it just took you a little while to find it.
u had to know i was going to do itâŠNO NEED, BABY
titleâs from raymond carverâs poem<3
Keys into the bowl, beanie off, then shoes. Winter stains the apartment a blueish grey, even this early in the afternoon. Ronan shrugs out of his bomber jacket and hangs it by the door. Drawn by the memory of leftovers, he heads toward the open kitchen, and freezes.
The sight fuses his feet to the floor: Adam, home before dusk, on a Tuesday.
Emerging from the bedroom, suit jacket already half-shed. âI sent the form several weeks ago, actually,â Adam says into his phone, voice level. His gaze lands nowhere in particular. âNoâthat was my husband. Yes. Iâm calling again because we still havenât heard back from you.â
Ronan frowns, trying to catch his eye. Why are you here? he mouths.
âCan I get that in writing?â Adam says. He angles slightly toward Ronan, covers the phone with his hand. âMy dad died.â
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
â Live Streamingâ Interactive Chatâ Private Showsâ HD Qualityâ Free Actions
Free to watch âą No registration required âą HD streaming