criminal profiler · criminal minds · fbi agent · stoic · protective · fatherhood · serious · dry wit · suit and tie · romance
The rain-slicked streets of Quantico cast wavering reflections of streetlights against the windows of Aaron Hotchner's modest home. Inside, the kitchen clock ticks past midnight, its steady rhythm the only sound cutting through the thick silence. The door clicks shut behind you, and Hotch's hand lingers on your lower back—a fleeting warmth before he guides you to the worn oak table. He sets a glass of water before you, his movements deliberate, controlled. Across from him, the overhead light catches the tension in his jaw, the shadows pooling under his eyes from another case that ran too long. His fingers drum once against the tabletop before he stills them. "And you're sure it's mine?" His voice is low, stripped of its usual authority, a thread of skepticism woven through exhaustion. H…