little league - aaron hotchner

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warning: I do not know how soccer works

When you found out Hotch had signed Jack up for soccer, you were beyond excited. You had always wondered what it would feel like to be a classic "soccer mom." Well, you and Hotch were still engaged, but Jack had started calling you mom long before that.

"They've asked me to coach," he chuckled, stirring his coffee in a to-go cup as the two of you prepared to take Jack to practice.

"Really?" You asked excitedly, "Aww, babe, that would be so cute!"

His cheeks tinged pink as he shook his head with a smile. He didn't quite understand why you were so excited over a little league sport, but he found it adorable.

Jack came speeding into the kitchen in his team's colored shorts and tee shirt. He had his socks on and his cleats in hand, nearly bouncing up and down with how excited he was.

"There's our little soccer star," you grinned, ruffling his hair as he stood between you and Aaron.

"Can I have some coffee too?" He asked.

Hotch was about to say no, but you gave him a quick, "I have an idea," look and he stopped himself.

"Sure you can, since you're so grown up now," you nodded, pulling down a small cup from the cabinet.

While Jack talked to his dad, you filled the cup halfway up with milk, taking the pot of coffee and pouring in just enough to make it look like coffee. Hotch laughed lightly as you handed Jack the cup.

"Smart one," he mouthed at you as Jack took a sip, "How is it, bud?"

"It's yummy," he said, turning to beam at you, "now I'm just like daddy!"

"Mhm," you hummed with a grin, "except you're way cuter than daddy."

Jack giggled before turning to Hotch, who was rolling his eyes with a small chuckle.

"Yeah I'm cuter than you daddy," he said braggingly, and it was taking everything in you not to die laughing.

"Is that so?" Hotch hummed, amused as he looked down at his son.

"Yup," Jack grinned, popping the 'p' for emphasis.

"Yeah well I bet I'm faster than you," Hotch challenges.

"Nuh uh!" Jack shook his head.

"We'll see about that," Hotch smirked, a playful glint in his eye, "cause I'mmmmmmm gonna getcha!"

That started a chase around the kitchen and out into the living room. Hotch was bent down, chasing Jack around the living room table, and they were laughing.

You watched from the kitchen, smiling at the sweetest boys you could ever have in your life. You loved them more than words could express.

Hotch eventually won, throwing Jack over his shoulder once he caught him. The boy cried out in glee, trying and failing to wiggle out of his father's grasp. He brought Jack to you, and you held out your arms. He plopped him down into them.

"You ready for soccer practice, little man?" You tickled his tummy and he giggled wildly.

"Y-yes!" He stuttered between laughs.

You set him back on his feet, "then we better get your cleats on and get going, huh?"

"Yay!" He exclaimed, running to the front door.

"I'll get your coffee, you help him with his shoes," you instructed, still giggling slight from the mornings antics.

He nodded, leaning in close to your ear, "I think we need to have a discussion later about how you don't think I'm cute."

You hummed as he pulled away smirking.

"I don't think you're cute," you shrugged, hiding your smirk as you picked up the coffee. You turned to meet his look of confusion, moving so you were next to him on your way out of the kitchen, "I think you're hot as hell, but I couldn't say that in front of Jack, could I?"

Your smirk grew as you moved past him, leaving him chuckling as he trailed behind you.

When you arrived at the soccer field, you unloaded the SUV. You grabbed Jack's soccer bag as Hotch grabbed the rolling cooler and bleacher seats. You had filled the cooler full of water, Gatorade, Capri-Suns, a couple pb&js, and some fruit-snacks. You took your new soccer mom role very seriously.

"Hey, Aaron!" One of the other dads called. He was the one who had asked Hotch to coach.

You took your stuff to the bleachers, picking a spot as Hotch talked to the other dad. You sprayed Jack down with sunscreen before sending him off to huddle with the other boys on his team.

Hotch made his way over to you, squinting in the sun, "they want me to try coaching practice to see if I'd be interested."

"That's great!" You exclaimed.

"I don't want to leave you by yourself though," he said with a slight frown.

"I'll be like 6 feet away from you," you teased, "besides, I can make friends." You gestured to the other moms who were already seated.

"Are you sure?" He asked.

"Yes, now go," you giggled, nudging him towards the field.

He gave you a small smile, "You're the best, you know that?"

"Noooooo," you gasped sarcastically, "it's not like you don't tell me that every day."

He shook his head with a grin, "Well I mean it."

Your heart fluttered, and you finally got him to go over to the team.

"Which one's yours?" Someone asked from behind you as you sat in your bleacher seat.

You turned to see a blonde woman in her late twenties, looking at you with a friendly smile.

"The one with the kind of sandy brown hair," you pointed, "he's next to his dad, the tall one in the blue."

Her face lit up, "oh my gosh, you're Aaron's girl!"

"You know him?" You asked curiously.

"Oh yeah, Jack and my son, Baylor, have been in the same class since kindergarten," she explained.

You smiled, "I think I've heard Jack mention him before."

She nodded, "Me and Aaron went on a couple dates, but gosh, that was like three years ago? I've always regretted letting that one go."

You tried to ignore the knot of jealousy tightening in the pit of your stomach.

"So how long have you two been dating?" She asked way too sweetly.

You mustered up a smile, "We dated for about a year and a half, we've been engaged for two months."

"No way!" She squealed, "Let me see!"

You held out your left hand and she grabbed, examining the glittering ring with wide eyes.

"Ugh, I'm totally jealous," she giggled, "You know, I would have never have guess when you sat down that you were with him."

"What do you mean?" You asked as politely as possible.

"I guess you just don't really look like his type," she shrugged, "he's usually into more athletic looking women."

You frowned, "I work with him, I have to be athletic."

"Oh, really?" She asked, her perfectly shaped eyebrows furrowing, "I couldn't tell."

You laughed fakely, "I guess I'll have to make myself more athletic looking by our wedding next month."

She smiled at you but it looked more like a grimace. You watched the rest of the practice, trying to muster up some of your earlier enthusiasm and failing. You knew you were too old to get jealous over this type of thing, but you just couldn't help it.

Hotch noticed how reserved you had become on the way home. When you arrived he instructed Jack to go take a shower before following you to the kitchen.

"Something's bothering you," he stared matter-of-factly.

"You're not profiling me, are you?" You asked teasingly, hoping he wouldn't push the subject.

But, of course, you were wrong.

He patted the countertop, "Up."

You sighed, hopping up on the counter as he moved to stand between your legs. He often did that when he wanted you to talk to him. He rubbed your thighs while examining you face to try and figure out what was upsetting you.

"Did someone say something to you at the field?" He asked knowingly.

"It's incredibly creepy when you do that, you know," you frowned.

"Am I right?" He asked.

"It was nothing," you shrugged, not meeting his eyes.

"If it was nothing, it wouldn't be bothering you," he argued, brows furrowed, "I'm your fiancé, you can tell my anything."

You sighed, giving in, "Some blonde, I don't even know her name, but her son's name is Baylor-"

Hotch groaned, "That's Amber...what did she say to you?"

"Well she asked which boy was mine and I pointed out you and Jack and she asked if I was 'your girl' and I said yes and she said you guys dated and then I told her we are getting married and she said I'm not your type," you ranted all in one breath.

His frown deepened, "Not my type?"

"Yeah, she said I wasn't athletic enough or something," you mumbled.

Hotch looked pissed now, "She said you're not athletic enough? Did you tell her you work with me? You probably do more athletic things in one day than she's ever done in her life."

You giggled, he was just too cute when he was frustrated, "Like I said, it's okay."

"But she made you doubt yourself, that's not okay," he said, looking into your eyes, "you know you're even better than any 'type,' I could've come up for myself, don't you?"

"I didn't know that," you whispered.

He kissed you deeply, his hands cupping your face. You were putty in his hands, letting him lick his way past your lips, tapping your tongue with his lightly. After a while you both separated, lips shiny and chests heaving.

"You are stunning," he began, "everything about your physical body is perfect to me. And you're amazing with Jack, you're the best mother figure I could've asked for. You work with me so you understand my schedule, and plus I get to keep an eye on you at all times to make sure you're safe. Your laugh that you hate for some reason is the best thing I've ever heard, especially after a long day. And I love that you're kind and gracious to people even when they don't deserve it."

You reached a hand up, patting his cheek, "you're really real, right? Just making sure."

He smiled wide and kissed you again, more gentle and sweet this time.

"Can you stop doing that so we can get ice cream?" Jack's voice interrupted. You broke apart laughing.

The next week at practice, Hotch made sure to kiss you very obviously in front of Amber. Needless to say, she didn't bother you again.


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