A Man and a Woman Miniseries (Hotch x Reader) ✅✅

Part 1. Alaska

Notes: YES IM REUPLOADING - this is a three-parter and idk if yall would want this here! im reminding u of ao3 too since its all there. lemme know if i should post it all on here lmao!! (also read warnings for each chapter) - 

y'all i KNOW said i wouldnt write smut but here i am with another oneshot (too long i know :( ) 
The idea for this is v inspired by the 2016 movie "A man and a woman" which is one of my absolute faves, and the relationship is VERY different, just fyi (dont wanna SPOIL a lot bcs there are some plotwists yall sorry :/)

TW: crime, usual cm talk, blood mention, death, death scares, hypothermia talk, smut (18+), strangers to lovers, cheating, angst, slowburn because it takes SOME to get there, case mention, weather talk! yearning, angst and hurt/comfort

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What they don't tell you about living in subzero temperatures is that the most common of actions in your day-to-day life turn bothersome, slow and dull. Working in the same conditions is as mentally taxing as it is physically. These days, though, it's significantly better, because you are used to it.

"Here" A cup of steaming coffee is left in front of you, large hand retreating from it. The knuckle is bitten red from the ice and the cold.

"Thought it wasn't working" you retort, looking up at the man who so kindly, and unprompted brought it, SSA Aaron Hotchner from the FBI. You have to crane your neck to do so, because he stands tall, dressed in a thick grey pullover, corduroy slacks, and hair all slicked back. There's a tiny smile on his face, which makes his cheekbones pop, and a dimple appear at the side of his mouth.

"It does now" he mutters softly with a playful glint in his eye.

He stays put just like you, and you're thinking about more than the conversation you had last night before leaving work. He'd retreated with his unit to the small and only hotel in town, and you'd gone back to the recently rented cabin you still struggle to call home since relocating to Alaska one and half years ago. Last evening, only a few police officers had stayed behind like you, trying to assist his team, and he'd caught you at 11 pm, trying to sweet-talk the coffee machine into working.

The FBI had been here for 2 days, and it only took you the second day, under the blinking fluorescents of the precinct's kitchenette to notice how attractive the man is. It was due to the easy back and forth too, you can't deny it. He had caught you in a moment that had been embarrassing and appeared charming.

"Come on, be good to me, give me everything you've got" you say, tapping the appliance again with the heel of your palm, "I know you can. You did this just this morning, baby. Only one cup"

Someone clears their throat and you freeze on the spot. Straighten up and dust off your pants as if you hadn't been attempting to talk dirty to an inanimate object.

"Up until that last sentence," Agent Hotchner says, taking a step towards you, "I wasn't sure if you were on the phone"

Your face heats up. You don't know how to respond to that, solely because it's embarrassing. He studies your face, dark eyes set on you as he takes your right side. He looks so different than how you'd gotten used to seeing all other FBI agents. Different even than himself the day before. For starters his eyebrows are not furrowed, there's no scowl, no glare, no intensity to intimidate anyone with. His expression is soft, a bit unguarded, but still rehearsed – the same way anyone acts when they're interacting with an acquaintance. Secondly, he's rolled the sleeves of his zip-up to his elbows, and it makes him younger, playful, good – looking. He already is, you see it clearly now.