Rom-com Gone Wrong (Hotch x Reader)// ✔

13. I Think He Knows

Summary:

A long time spent apart - without new emails or texts from Hotch - ends in the most unexpected way.

Notes:

hey all sry for the time apart (get it, im referencing the summary? :D - nvm nvm, lmao)
BUT a long one as a peace offering! thnx again for all the love
@ romant1cs made another playlist from the vibes of this fic! and it's amazing!: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0tqC7YypQyjdDHMjxiFMWj?si=2a000dbc9ee44e13 i love it v much!

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Aaron Hotchner is a good kisser – that's your thought of the day. The one from yesterday had been Aaron Hotchner has large, strong hands, because you still feel them holding you, pinning you in place, trapping you against your front door.

Two weeks. Two entire weeks since that disaster of a kiss. You'd tried to forget it, obviously. But turned out that Hotch had nipped your lip a bit too hard to have it not leave a bruise. The smallest one, like a teardrop colored in a deeper shade of your lips, and instead of it becoming a turn off, or even a deep-seated root of regret, it made you remember him fondly every time you looked at your own reflection. That first week it makes people look at you strange, and Tommy is the first to ask prying questions. But all in all, it's manageable.

Hotch holds up his end of the bargain. He doesn't email. Doesn't text either. And it takes Spencer two days later, to find out why. They're out in a case all the way in Los Angeles. The entire week dissipates into nothing. One becomes two, and you finally get your scheduled time off that you'd planned months ago.

"You better be adding some bacon on that toast" your father says, walking into the kitchen a Tuesday morning.

"Your cholesterol levels are high as is. You don't need to be shoving American food down your throat 24/7, you know"

He huffs and puffs, bypassing you making French toast for the kids that you'll later have to cut into cute animal shapes, and an omelet for your brother. The one thing Matt had agreed to, when he'd made you swear to visit your father back in Ohio after so long, had been that he'd be there too – kids and all. The all meant laptop, tablet and a heavy case stuffed with books. You'd mocked him and said he'd surely forgotten his own luggage of clothes and he'd turned a dark shade of red, before running back to his car. The relief he'd let out a minute after was heard even a house away.

You turn around, platting the food and catch sight of your dad in full uniform.

"Thought you're off work today?"

He throws you a look, takes the plate from your hands without a word and gulps his large cup of coffee.

"The sheriff doesn't take days off"

"Bullshit" you leave the plates on the table, take the cup of coffee from his hands and replace it with freshly pressed orange juice. He takes it, even though he frowns.

He has that same expression you do – and you doubt every law enforcement has made at some point in their lives – like he's got a situation in his hands that will leave nightmares for years.

The silence stretches as you wait for him to say something, and you're both stubborn, not wanting to be the first one to speak.

"Don't you look chipper today?" Matt asks, waltzing in with his son in his arms, sleepy and rubbing at his eyes with his small hands.

"I didn't start it" you say softly, and extend to ruffle your nephew's hair. "Dad is just being hotheaded"

"I am certainly not"