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#dbf!hotch
bau-muffin · 21 days
Text
“Live Mas”
Word count: 6343
Pairing: Aaron Hotchner/Reader, dbf!Hotch if you squint
Content warning: oral sex, fingering, p in v sex
Summary: you had a bad week at work, and Aaron suggests you go on a cabin trip. What could possibly happen?
Author’s Note: this is for my friend’s (@rivnxm) birthday! Happy birthday darling, and I hope you have a WONDERFUL day <3 xoxo
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“Oh my god, thank you for letting me crash here,” you said, half gratefully, half apologetically, with a bottle of wine in your hand. Aaron raised an eyebrow at you with a half smile from where he was sitting in an oversized armchair, beckoning with his hand for you to set your things down.
“You’re lucky you caught me on a day where I actually got to go home at a decent hour. Jack’s at Jessica’s until Sunday night, and this house sounded a little hollow.”
You sat your bag on the floor unceremoniously beside the couch, the wine on the coffee table, and yourself on the couch, flopping a bit.
He eyed you, and you almost rolled your eyes as you felt him “profile” you.
“Rough day?” Aaron asked.
“Rough week. JD is giving me issues and I can’t stand him! He said my article was frivolous. Frivolous! Can you believe the gall?”
“Isn’t this the same guy who said your use of the word “persnickety” in an editorial was entirely too casual?”
“The one and only bastard.”
“If only he was the only bastard. It would make my job easier.”
You rolled your eyes, “you know what I meant.”
He reached for the wine bottle and pulled out a bottle opener and popped it open, a smirk on his face. “Yeah, I do.”
Of course, your friendship with Aaron Hotchner was probably a bit strange. He was in his 40s, a father, and a widower who had been through a divorce, and you were… well, quite a bit younger and not as jaded or cynical.
You were acquainted with him through your father, whose expertise was consulted for a case as a favor to Aaron, and somehow you two clicked and became better friends than he was with your father. You’d met him after your father invited him to a barbecue, and you realized you’d never met a more stoic man, nor one who could wear the hell out of a quarter zip shirt like he did. Did you form a small crush on him? Yes. Did you dare utter it aloud? Hell no. You suppressed the snot out of it.
“You know what I need? I need a vacation. Just… to relax. Maybe become one with nature, let the moss grow on me like a rock.”
Aaron got up to get wine glasses from his wet bar, and came back, sitting down in his chair as he poured the wine in the glasses. “What would your ideal vacation be?”
“Gosh… I love the mountains,” you said dreamily, your chin propped up on your knuckle, “I haven’t stayed in a cabin since… I don’t know, since I lived with my parents.”
He handed you a glass of wine. “I see.”
“You sound awfully pensive, what’s ticking in that head of yours?”
“I was thinking… maybe, we could take a vacation. Just you and me and a cabin in the mountains. A retreat, if you will. Jack’s at Jessica’s, and I have an overstock of days off.”
You took a sip of wine and leaned forward. “Where were you thinking?”
“West Virginia. I’ve rented a cabin before that was about four or five hours drive from here- easily doable for a weekend getaway. We could leave tomorrow after work, Friday, and come back Sunday evening.”
“Why would you come?”
He shrugged. “Keep an eye out on you. Plus, I need a break too.”
You rolled your eyes. “Do you not believe I can take care of myself at all?”
“I don’t doubt that you can,” Aaron insisted, “I just… I don’t know, I don’t want to risk anything.”
You were aware of his overprotective tendencies, partially because of the horrors he saw at his job, and also because of what happened to his wife. Your eyes and lips softened a little at the layer of concern in his voice. “Well… I guess it’s always more fun with friends.”
The corner of his lip quirked. “You could bring some board games.”
“Are you telling me Super Special Agent Aaron Hotchner is fond of board games?”
“That is not what SSA stands for, and you know it,” he said with a laugh.
And so, that’s how you found yourself in the passenger seat of Aaron’s SUV after work the next day. He had loaded up your bags, snacks, and cooler of drinks into the trunk without much complaint, which surprised you. You were sure he would make the typical sarcastic “traveling light?” comment that most guys did, but it was nothing from him.
“I guess I’m the passenger princess,” you said with a laugh before you popped a gummy worm in your mouth from the bag between your legs.
His eyebrows raised in bewilderment as he looked over at you. “I- if you mean exactly what the term sounds like, yes, I guess you are.” Aaron looked at the road before looking back at you. “Gummy worm, please?”
“I’m surprised Penelope hasn’t taught you more internet slang,” you said as you handed him a red and green gummy worm.
“She taught me what “rizz” and… um… “slay” means. That was too much for me.” He popped the worm into his mouth. You studied the side of his face for a second before he glanced over at you. “What?”
“I wouldn’t have taken you for a gummy man.”
“I love gummies. If Ronald Reagan ate jellybellies to concentrate on ruining our country, then I eat gummies to help save it. It’s not so great for my physique, though.”
“I like your physique,” you blurted.
He raised his eyebrows in surprise, but he didn’t say anything as he turned his attention to the road, though even your view of the side of his face didn’t hide the small smirk.
“You’re smug,” you said, teasingly accusatory.
“I don’t get many compliments on my physique nowadays- give me a minute or two to stew in it.”
“It- it kind of reminds me of Atticus Finch. You know- from To Kill a Mockingbird?” You said ramblingly.
“Are you saying I’m Gregory Peck?” You didn’t have to look at him to know he had that damn smirk on his face.
“I-“ you paused for a moment before lifting the bag of gummy worms comically, inspecting the back of it. “What level of alcohol content is in this anyways?”
“Hopefully none, considering I’m driving us, and you gave me one.”
“You’re a lightweight if all it takes is a gummy worm to get you tipsy- but there is none, you are very astute, Aaron.”
By the time you guys drove up the winding lane to the cabin, you were exhausted. You planned on taking a nap as soon as you hauled your luggage in, and you had told Aaron as much about fifteen minutes before the estimated arrival time. It was nightfall anyhow.
“I’m the one who drove, and you’re exhausted,” he mused with a smile as he carefully set some luggage on the porch.
“You’re more than welcome to take a nap too, if you’d like,” you said with a soft scoff as you waited by the door for him to open the cabin, “I’m sure there’s more than enough space for you to lay your weary head.”
“I’m sure there is,” Aaron said with a small smile as he opened the door to the cabin, with the instructions that the owner had given. When you lugged the cooler and snacks in, the smell of wood met your nose.
“This makes me so nostalgic,” you said breathily, carrying your load to the kitchen.
It was a medium sized cabin, so the living room, which featured a nice fireplace, and the kitchen were all in one open space. You didn’t study it much further as you began loading your drinks and food onto the counters and into the fridge, and Aaron began pulling in suitcases and toiletry bags.
“I’ll check the layout, and you can decide which bedroom you want to stay in,” he explained.
“Be quick about it, I need to get my blanket and pillow,” you said lightheartedly.
“Yes ma’am,” he said sarcastically before venturing further.
You cleared your throat when you realized the formal address made you feel something low in your stomach, but you tried to ignore it. You continued putting things away, then you turned and Aaron was standing there, his brows creased.
You rolled your eyes as your hand landed on your chest by instinct. “God, you scared me.”
He ignored you. “We have a problem.”
“What is it? It’s not a leak, is it?”
“If only. I could fix that. No, it turns out I booked a cabin with only one bed.”
“Oh-“
“However, I can probably sleep on the couch. If it makes you feel better, we can take turns.”
“Aaron, no, take the bed. Not to make you feel old, but your back-“
“My back is fine,” he said gruffly, “I sleep on my couch at home all of the time.”
“Aaron…”
“Don’t ‘Aaron’ me,” he said with a tiny smile, “I insist. Besides, you’re tired, and it’s almost time to go to sleep for the night anyway.”
“You damn smooth lawyer fbi agent,” you muttered as you moved to carry your stuff to the adjacent bedroom, “you make a good argument.”
“I know I do. Now, go get some rest. We can start planning the itinerary tomorrow morning.”
“What makes you think I won’t just sleep in until lunch time?” you asked sassily.
“Then I suppose that’s your prerogative.”
You moved to give him a hug, setting your bags down. “We’ll see. Good night.”
“Good night, sleep tight, don’t let the bedbugs bite.”
“I hope they do,” you muttered.
“What was that?”
“Nothing. Good night.”
You thought you heard an amused hum behind you as you tote everything to the bedroom. It was cute- a queen sized bed with a nice quilt on it that had an adorable design featuring bears, a large dresser that looked hand carved, and side tables with rustic lamps that had antlers for shades.
The bathroom was a decent size, and you found that the shower looked like a dream. But when you looked out of the sliding door where there was evidently a deck… you were surprised to see a hot tub. A hot tub, but not two bedrooms, you mused.
Then you saw the mountains, lit faintly by moonlight, and you gasped, awe filling you as you studied the range, your eyes tracing every pinnacle.
But after you put on your cotton pajamas and brushed your teeth and showered, you slid under the covers, the weight of the quilt settling nicely on you, and you realized- you can hear every damn scampering and skittering creature in the woods. The crickets that once seemed to be a comforting constant now sounded more ominous, and the frogs that were croaking innocently seemed to take on an edge.
You scrolled on your phone for a while, all of the lamps turned off and your face illuminated by the screen. But your brain was not winding down, and you were not sleepy. You set your phone on the side table, and turned from the window, your face towards the door, and closed your eyes.
No bueno. Those critters and the chirping and the croaking and various skittering wouldn’t let you sleep.
It took about two hours before your resolve melted and you got up out of bed.
As quietly as you could, you padded to the kitchen- you had not made it to the fridge well before you heard Aaron’s groggy voice saying your name and then, “are you okay?”
You could barely see his head peeking over the back of the couch, pointed away from the kitchen.
“I couldn’t sleep and thought I’d get some water. Go back to sleep, I’m fine.”
“Why can’t you sleep?”
You paused, wondering if you should admit the embarrassing truth. “The noises outside.”
“Someone’s not accustomed to the great outdoors and being away from highways and interstates,” he said a tad bit teasingly.
“I’m not,” you admitted as you filled a cup with water.
“C’mere.”
You sipped the water. “What are you going to do?”
“I’m going to try to help you go to sleep.”
You set your cup on the counter. “And your method would be…?”
“Stop asking so many questions and just c’mere,” he said, a tad bit exasperated.
“Okay dad,” you said sarcastically as you ventured towards the couch.
Aaron was half laying on the couch, his elbow propping himself up. His legs were covered by a thin blanket, but he was wearing a slightly tight green t-shirt with the Schweppes logo on it that made you bite your lip. You could clearly see an outline of his chest and the small chub of his belly even only lit by the moonlight through the window, and it was… well, he was an attractive man and you’d never felt a greater impulse to bury your head into someone’s chest before. You ignored your baser instincts.
“I’m here,” you say, almost sounding annoyed, your hands on your waist. You didn’t miss the way his eyes flitted over your pajamas.
“Sit on the couch with me. Maybe we can watch something until you fall asleep.” He sat up and patted the seat next to him.
“Were you not asleep when I came in?” You sat down beside him, and he threw part of his blanket over your lap.
“I’m a light sleeper because I’m constantly listening out for Jack. Or my phone, for the bureau.” He put his arm behind your head on the back of the couch. “You can lean into me, if you want, you know.”
Your head instinctively laid on his shoulder. “Aaron, I’m still befuddled why you would ask me to go to a cabin with you.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean… our friendship is so unlikely anyways. You’re… frankly, middle aged. We’re in totally different areas of life. You have more… experience.” You cleared your throat nervously. “In life I mean.”
His eyebrows raised but he said nothing as he turned the TV on. Of course it was George Lopez.
“You make my life feel a little lighter,” Aaron said finally. “I love having you around and…” he studied his lap for a moment. “I would probably consider you my best friend. I’ve told you things I… I hadn’t told my team for… for a while. Maybe ever.” He looked up at you with a small smile. “You drag it out of me without saying a word.”
You stiffened a little at being called best friend, but you felt his eyes studying you keenly.
“And what do you want me to say? Call you my father figure?” You said teasingly.
“God, no,” he said almost a little too emphatically, cringing, “We’re definitely two adults. I don’t want that sort of… dynamic. Besides, I am way too young to be your dad.”
You grinned a little, but your eyes started to droop closed.
Aaron shifted so that you could lay more comfortably, but soon, despite the canned laughs from the TV, he too drifted off to sleep.
When you woke up, you did not expect your pillow to feel so warm or firm. Your hand patted around, and you felt a moment of panic course through you.
You opened one eye to realize that your pillow was none other than the chest of Aaron Hotchner. Your face was buried into his chest and your cheeks flushed at the thought of it. You patted one more time to make sure you weren’t dreaming. Somewhere in the night, you guys had laid down, and your legs were tangled with his, your back against the back of the couch and Aaron facing you, kind of… pinning you.
“Having fun there?” His voice said softly, though a smile was evident in his tone.
“I’m sorry-“ you scrambled to sit up but he shushed you gently.
“Don’t worry about it, we were asleep. It’s not like you could have helped that.”
“Still-“
“I am not going to tolerate you blaming yourself for something so innocent and harmless,” Aaron said sternly, his voice deepened by the morning grogginess. It was too early in the morning for you to need to clutch your legs together. Your resolve or the lack thereof was embarrassing, really.
“Is this how you talk to your agents?” You asked teasingly.
“Yes,” he admits, “I have had to remind my agents that sometimes things don’t go as planned on missions, and it’s not always their fault. Some of them take it hard.”
You leaned your head back against his chest, and his hand moved to the small of your back.
“Do you think…” you started but then hesitated.
“Do I think what?”
“Do you think it would be inappropriate if we flipped so that I’m… you know, on your chest?”
No words were spoken; you felt his strong arms move you, and you were laying on his chest.
“I take that as a no,” you murmured. His chuckle rumbled within his chest underneath you.
“We’re friends, we can take it, right?” Aaron said, almost cryptically.
You attempted to sit up, but when you realized how… intimate that felt, you laid back down. “I really don’t think you’ve been telling me the whole truth,” you said daringly. You looked up at him and you could see his arched eyebrows.
“Oh?”
“We have some sort of tension, and I need to know if you feel it too.”
“Tension?”
“Don’t play dumb, Aaron.”
He said your name, and it was followed by a second of hesitance.
“Aaron. We’re both adults here,” you said pleadingly.
He looked down at you, his eyes meeting yours. You couldn’t explain what you saw in those dark eyes of his, a vulnerable yet guarded fortress that you could occasionally peer into like a dollhouse. He looked so… conflicted. Like he wanted something that was well within reach, but fear or uncertainty was holding him back.
Aaron easily could have leaned down and kissed you. He knew that.
But instead he said, “do you want coffee? I brought the coffee beans you said you liked and a grinder.”
You could have pushed further but you didn’t. “I do, yeah. I probably need to change for the day anyway.”
After you awkwardly scrambled away from him, you sat in the bedroom on the bed for a couple of minutes after undressing down to your underwear to stew on what could have happened. Why didn’t he kiss you? You could have sworn he was going to but stopped himself. Why was he forbidding himself from something he wanted, that he could have enthusiastically?
When you did finally reemerge (dressed of course), you smelled the coffee perking in the coffee pot provided by the cabin owners.
“Did you sterilize that thing?” You asked him worriedly, sending a look to where he was leaning against the counter, texting on his phone.
“I did, don’t worry,” Aaron reassured you, looking up at you from his phone with a smile, “I know how you are about sterilizing kitchen items.”
“I am not risking a brain eating amoeba even for you, Hotchner.” You sat down at the kitchen bar with a sigh.
Stealthily, you scanned his outfit- a brown and orange plaid flannel shirt, rolled up to the forearms, and khaki pants. God forbid he wears jeans even away from the office, you smiled to yourself.
“Apparently everyone at the office is making bets about why I went on leave.” Aaron slid his phone into his pocket as he began pouring coffee into a mug.
“What are the reasons given by them?”
“Morgan is saying that I sprained an ankle and didn’t want to risk mandatory leave. Rossi says I’m finally gaining my wits and letting loose for a weekend and getting ‘shitfaced.’ Garcia is saying I’ve eloped and went to Paris. Emily and JJ have decided not to bet but are keeping up with the money.” He placed the mug in front of you on the bar. “Prepared just the way you like it.”
You sipped it, holding the mug with both hands. “This is perfect.”
“As many times as I’ve picked up your order from the cafe, I ought to know it by heart.” He picked up his own mug and sipped on it, his strong hand wrapped around it as though he could crush it, and you felt something filter through you. The curvature of his hands, the strength evident in the veins and his fingers- but the way they were holding the fragile mug, carefully and cautiously picking it up and placing it down again.
The way his lips rested on the rim, his throat gulping slightly with every drink- there was something so vulnerable and intimate about watching him drink, even though you’ve seen each other drink a million other times. And yet, you began feeling a little green.
Aaron lowered his mug to look at you.
“You look like you’re a million miles away. Not to mention you’re staring.”
“Mm? No, um… I’m okay.”
“Are you sure about that?”
He was a profiler. Why bother hiding anything from him.
“I’m jealous,” you blurted.
His eyebrows raised until his forehead wrinkled. “Jealous?” he asked.
It was like a floodgate opened.
“I’m jealous of the coffee mug because you willingly put your lips on and take tender sips from it. I’m jealous because you wrap your hands around it protectively. I’m just… downright envious of the way you hold it, Aaron. Because I know you refuse yourself me.”
After you had said it, you covered your face with your hands. This cabin was way too small for such a confession.
And yet, you felt his hands, still warm from holding the coffee mug, tug your hands away from your face.
“Don’t be embarrassed,” Aaron said softly, “you’re… right that I refuse myself.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re young. I’m so much older than you, I would be holding you back. I have a lot of baggage, for crying out loud, I don’t want to haul that into your life just for you to…” his voice trailed off. It struck you.
“You’re afraid of me leaving you.”
“I know you’re ambitious,” he admitted, “and you should be with someone equally as ambitious. I’m in the phase where I could retire from the FBI to be home with Jack. I’m in my career because it’s… it’s my passion.”
“You’re still thinking about Haley,” you said softly.
“Yes,” Aaron admitted, “I won’t lie and say that what all happened with Haley doesn’t affect how I go forward with relationships.”
“I’m not so ambitious that I can’t appreciate a good man, Aaron. That’s not to say I would quit my job or my pursuits for you, but I don’t think you’d want me to either.”
He took your hands in his. “I wouldn’t. I like you just as you are. You and your work drama, the way you’re so finicky about certain things but carefree in others- driving you to the mountains may have been the highlight of the trip because as soon as ranges came into view, your nose was stuck to the window, and I’m almost certain you’d still see your nose print on the glass. The way you adore people and the little things in life… I’ve never been able to master that, but it comes so effortlessly to you.”
The revelation hit you like a nerf bullet to the forehead out of nowhere. “You notice those things?”
“I do.”
“You know… the drive up doesn’t have to be the highlight,” you said a little teasingly.
“And what are you suggesting?” A small smile tugged at his lips.
“I’m suggesting we either get this out of our systems and forget it ever happened, or we start something that we can’t finish without one of us breaking our heart.”
“Are you sure?” Aaron said quietly.
You didn’t have to think before you pulled him closer by his unbuttoned flannel, and your lips wavered half an inch away from his. His eyes flitted down to look at your lips before gazing into your own eyes.
“I’m so sure,” you said breathlessly.
That was the only cue he needed before he closed the distance between you, his lips landing on yours softly before they sought your lips like he was scouring for water in a desert. His arms pulled you out of the bar stool and onto your feet, his hands settling on your back on and around your waist. The old man had it in him, anyone would have to admit it.
Not too old for surprises, apparently, as he gripped you and hoisted you onto the counter. You squealed a little, and you could hear him chuckling. Your hands went to his shoulders, and your legs hooked around his waist.
His hands held your face on either side and pulled you in closer. If he could inject himself into your skin, you know he would.
You playfully nipped, pulling his lip between your teeth and sucking on it, eliciting a groan from Aaron that made you grin as you continued kissing him.
Your tongues waltzed together in intricate circles, and you felt his hands ease to your bottom as they splayed out to support you.
“What do you think you’re doing,” you murmured. He grinned like a cat who got the milk.
“I’m about to take you to the bedroom, and we’re about to make love. How does that sound, sweetheart?”
“Carry on,” you said lightly, your lips against his neck as he toted you to the bedroom.
It wasn’t long before your back hit the mattress as he laid you down carefully.
“You’re stronger than I gave you credit for,” you quipped with a smirk as you looked up at him. Aaron chuckled as he tugged off his flannel and threw it to the side.
“I have to be at least a little fit to be in the FBI. Besides, I’m not that old. Now, Rossi…”
“You are not about to mention Rossi before an intimate moment,” you interjected, half incredulous and half amused.
“Sorry, sorry. But point being, I’m not exactly ancient, and my muscles haven’t completely disintegrated.” His T-shirt was soon discarded, and flung it to who knows where.
Your eyes roved over his muscles, and the sight of them made you want to salivate. He wasn’t what most would consider “ripped,” but his muscles were defined while also having a little bit of a tummy. You wouldn’t change a thing about him.
“They haven’t disintegrated,” you agreed with a small smile.
Aaron leaned down over you. “Do you mind if I relieve you of your clothes?” He asked teasingly.
“Be my guest,” you murmured lazily.
He took his time, pulling your sweatpants down and disposed of it, tugging off your baby tee shirt next. You could see him visibly gulp as he studied your bra and panties.
“Now, before we go forward…” his finger was hooked on the waistband of your panties, playing with it, “are you sure you want this? Absolutely sure?”
“I’m absolutely sure, Aaron, I swear.”
“At any time, if you want to stop, please tell me,” he said earnestly, “it’s absolutely necessary for you to know that we can stop if you don’t want to go any further. I don’t care how far into it we’ve gone, if it’s any less than enthusiastic then we timeout.”
“You’re precious, you know that?”
Aaron almost looked horrified. “You better tell me this isn’t the first time you’ve heard this from a partner.”
You nibbled on your lip. “You’re just very thorough about it. Usually a simple “uh huh” suffices.”
“Sweetheart, like I said, I want nothing less than enthusiastic consensual sex. It’s just important to me.”
“Then you’ve got it,” you smiled up at him.
His hand fished under your back to unhook your bra, and when he pulled it away from your chest, you swore he was in awe like some people are of a sunset.
“Fuck… you’re beautiful, baby,” he said breathlessly.
You felt yourself flush and it traveled well into your chest area, and he chuckled, amused, as he kissed the nipple of your left breast, feeling the heat against his lips.
“You’re adorable when you blush like that,” Aaron said warmly.
He hooked his fingers in the waistband of your panties and freed you of them. The cold air hit you and you squirmed, but he surged into action, taking your nipple into his mouth and sucking on it. The noises he made, almost sounds of desperation, turned you on almost as much as his mouth on your breast.
His hand began kneading your other breast, and you breathed heavily.
“Fuck,” you muttered, a shot of lightning down your back, “you’re so good at this.”
Aaron moved away from your nipple and smirked at you. “Oh, do you mean that I’m… experienced?”
“Shut up and suck a tit,” you groaned, your hand going to your face in embarrassment as he chuckled.
“Did you really think I missed that earlier?”
“Not really, I was just hoping.”
“Sorry, sweetheart.”
Your hand went to your clit, and you began rubbing it in soft circles with your index and middle fingers, and Aaron resumed sucking your breast, transitioning to the other one. Of course you’ve masturbated before, but the combined sensation of him on your nipples and your own fingers was sending you over the edge as you lifted your hips to ride them, moaning in his ear.
When you felt that sweet release, your head tilted back, and you relaxed. Honestly, you could have slept, but Aaron clearly had different ideas.
“My turn, pumpkin.”
“Pumpkin?” You asked in surprise.
“Listen, I was trying something,” he said a little defensively, “but the point being that I want to make you feel good. You’re already so wet.”
He took your hand, pulling it away from you, and he sucked the cum off your fingers, his larger hand engulfing around your hand. He finally pulled your fingers out with a loud “pop.”
“Sweet- just like you, actually,” Aaron said smugly.
“And I’m sure you’ve got a sweet tooth in your head somewhere,” you replied as you watched his head approach between your thighs.
If only you could tell the version of you that had seen Aaron at the barbeque and thought he was handsome “for a man his age” that eventually his black hair would be seen bobbing between your legs with his tongue delving into your pussy. That version of him that had been wearing his brown quarter zip, looking down at you while your dad introduced you two. Who would have thought?
And fuck, that man was talented with his tongue. Was tying cherry stems with your tongue mandatory in the FBI? If it wasn’t, it should be. But otherwise- that G-Man knew his way around the G-Spot.
He made your insides feel like they had been melted down, sitting low in your stomach as the coil tightened. If this was just his tongue…
Aaron lapped at your depths, making those same desperate noises he had been making earlier. You moaned, your hands searching for something to grasp, and they found his shoulders. Your hold was so strong, it left red marks behind on his pale skin.
Your own guttural noises, some you hadn’t been sure you ever made before, melded with the sound of the wet noise of him eating you out, and you were suddenly so glad that you were in a cabin on a winding road.
“Aaron,” you said breathlessly, your chest heaving beautifully, “I’m ready, I think I’m ready for… for you.”
He lifted his head up at you. “Are you sure?”
“Yes, although… um… I didn’t bring lube.”
“Mhm… What about protection?”
“I’m on the pill.”
“Well… to put your mind at ease, I’m clean, I just got tested a few months ago as part of a physical, and it was after I broke up with Beth. I haven’t… had sex since we broke up.”
“I’m clean too.”
Aaron kissed the inside of your thigh. “Good.”
“Is it… do you think I could…”
He kissed from your belly button up to between your breasts. “Say it with your words, darling.”
“Can I ride you? Please?”
“Far be it from me to withhold pleasure from a princess,” he said smugly. You flushed.
“I’m not a princess,” you protested weakly, not even sounding convinced of your own statement.
“You absolutely are. You’re my princess, at least.”
“Then do the princess a favor and remove your bottoms,” you said coyly.
With a laugh, he stood up from the bed and began unbuckling his belt, and slipped off his pants. You hadn’t taken him for a boxer guy, but you supposed you shouldn’t have been surprised. The outline of his dick was visible through his boxers, obviously hard, but when he slipped them off, your mouth gaped a small bit.
You saw the size of his shoes and his nose, you knew what the chances were of him being well endowed. But you didn’t ever really think you’d get to see for yourself. He didn’t look like he was too big, but he certainly wasn’t too small- not terribly long, but certainly girthy.
Absent-mindedly he stroked it, smearing the precum on the head. “Are you ready, sweetheart?”
“Aaron, if you put this off one second longer-“
“Patience,” he stifled a laugh as he laid down on the bed beside her, his hands patting his thighs in a beckoning motion.
You moved to straddle his thighs, and carefully, you lined his dick up with your entrance, and sunk yourself onto it, inch by inch, taking deep breaths as he stretched you. When you fully sheathed him, he groaned as he held your hips, his hands splayed to support you, and your hands on his chest with small soft splatters of hair under your palms.
“Baby, you take me so well,” Aaron breathed. You clenched around him and he groaned again, his head tilted back.
Every time you moved your hips, every time he felt your ass bounce even slightly, he felt he had to fight from finishing right then and there. He truly wasn’t as young as he was, but… you had exceeded his expectations.
“Oh my god,” he moaned, his hold on your hips tightening as you rutted against him.
Your face held sheer determination, but Aaron could see when you were hitting a sweet spot by the look on your face- your eyes would glaze over slightly, and your lips would fall agape. He wished he could capture your likeness and hang it up beside the Mona Lisa- it was art, a wonder of the world.
“Baby, make some noises for me,” he urged, “I need to hear you.”
Your breasts heaved, and you whimpered as you moved up and down on his dick. His hips bucked, and you squeaked at the sudden shift.
“I’m almost there,” Aaron warned you apologetically.
“That’s okay,” you said in between panting.
True to his word, he painted your walls with his cum, and you felt like you were so soaked.
At one point, you stopped bouncing and thrusting, and panted, looking down at him and him looking up at you for what seemed an eternity, his dick still inside of you.
You slipped off of him, and rolled over to lay beside him. He pulled you against his chest, spooning you from behind.
“We really need to clean up,” he murmured against your neck, “but… I could lay here with you for so long, darling. You feel so right in my arms.”
“Ditto,” you said lazily.
Despite the urge to not get up, you both cleaned up and did the usual post sex hygienic stuff. You guys dressed again, and you sat in his lap on the couch, his arm circled around your waist.
“Mm… pretty good for an old man, wasn’t it?” Aaron teased you.
“Shut up, cradle robber,” you muttered, though a wide grin was on your face.
He pinched your thigh as he chuckled.
You both fell silent, the only sound coming from the AC unit whirring on. But there was a tension of a different kind between you two now, a silent undertone of questions.
“Aaron…”
“I know what you’re thinking,” he said slowly.
“If we could DoorDash Taco Bell?”
Aaron’s face visibly fell and you chuckled as you kissed his cheek. “It is getting close to lunch, but I’m joking. What do you think I’m thinking, hm?”
“The… the ‘what are we’ question.”
“Maybe I was thinking of asking if you would be my sugar daddy,” you said with a straight face. He rolled his eyes, clearly caught on to your sense of humor now.
“It…” he paused. “I know there’s a large age gap between us. But you are… I can’t imagine not being intrigued by your mind. You’re intelligent, and beautiful, and…” Aaron’s eye somehow meandered to your lips, “one of the sweetest women I know. And I would be honored if you would consider being my girlfriend.”
“There’s no consideration needed. Of course I’ll be your girlfriend.”
“And my job… my job doesn’t bother you?”
“Not at all. Obviously this is a relationship we would have to take one step at the time,” you reminded him, “but I understand your job takes you away sometimes. I understand that your situation is unconventional in a way.”
Aaron kissed your forehead. “Did I ever tell you you are so sweet? When you’re not being a snark, that is.”
You blushed, remembering him calling you sweet earlier, after tasting you. “Perhaps once or twice?”
“And Taco Bell?”
“Live Mas, baby.”
“I don’t remember the terminator ever saying that.”
You didn’t have the heart to tell him that DoorDash would probably take forty minutes to an hour to deliver to you- you had checked this morning. But… What could you guys possibly do to pass the time?
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greg-montgomery · 22 days
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sleepover part 2 - dbf!hotch x fem!reader
18+ minors dni!
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umm a little part 2 of staying at your dad’s best friend’s house <3 1.5k words, warnings: age gap, choking, degradation? unprotected sex 🤗
To say that your body was on fire since the night before would be an understatement. Aaron held you close until the credits of the movie started rolling, his thumb either rubbing your cheek or running circles on your neck. For such an experienced profiler you were surprised he hadn’t noticed the way you were shaking or the goose bumps on your skin.
His huge hand on you had felt rough on your skin but you wanted nothing else to touch you for the rest of your life. The subtle scent of him was stuck on your clothes and you heavily considered running errands in your pajamas, just so you could live in the cloud of his cologne.
It had just started getting dark outside and you figured Aaron wouldn’t be home until much later. That gave you time to take a long shower and also take your mind off of him and the veins on his hands.
You hit play on your favorite playlist, gathered all your best smelling toiletries, and stepped into the shower. The only problem was that the more you were trying not to think of Aaron Hotchner the more your brain focused on him. When you commanded yourself not to think about his thick thighs, your mind did the opposite. The more you were pushing him away the more he was stuck to you.
Maybe you could take care of your problem until he was home.
--
“Sweetie?”
Aaron searched around the house for you, holding a bag of takeout. He knew your favorite order from all the evenings he had spent at your house, keeping company to your dad – and naturally to you as well.
Moving further into the house, he heard the shower running, finding the reason you hadn’t been replying to him. He had to take a long breath in not to get all hot by the mental image of you in there. Naked and wet and…
No. You were younger, sweet and innocent. He had no business messing with a girl like you. You deserved a guy your age, with less baggage, without a kid, a demanding job, and a dead ex-wife.
Unfortunately for him, all his thoughts and reasons on why he should stay away vanished, the moment the door opened and you stood there in front of him with a little towel wrapped around your body and the expression of a deer caught in headlights.
“Hotch,” you said in a breath. “You’re home.”
“Yeah…I…I brought food.” He wasn’t sure how he was able to speak. Little drops of water were sticking onto your skin, and most of your body was completely exposed.
Aaron wasn’t naïve; he knew you wanted him. Still, he had never even dared to think of touching you.
But now, there you were, wrapped like a little gift just for him, looking at him with eyes that felt as if they were pleading for him to take you.
“I’m sorry for…um…” you said gesturing at your appearance, “this. I didn’t think you’d be home that soon.”
“It’s okay, honey.”
You both stood there for a moment, unable to avert your gaze from each other. The tension was strong, and Aaron knew the right thing would be to ignore it. He wasn’t thinking when he took a step towards you and he definitely wasn’t thinking when he grabbed your arm and pulled you close.
He heard you gasp at the contact and your open mouth looked deliciously inviting. Aaron wanted nothing more than to feel those lips wrapped around his dick, swallowing him whole.
“Hotch…” you whispered all needy, and it snapped him back to reality. If he didn’t let you go now, he would destroy you forever.
“I’m sorry,” he said, releasing your arm, but you grabbed his in response.
“Why are you sorry?”
“Because this is wrong.”
“Why?”
“You know why.”
A sigh escaped your lips, and your hand moved across his arm, reached his shoulder, and then moved down his chest. Aaron was praying you would stop soon, otherwise there was no way he was letting you out of his arms tonight.
“Unless you want me to take you to my room you should stop right there, sweetheart,” he said.
“And if I want you to take me?”
Aaron didn’t need another signal. He cupped the sides of your head and crushed his lips on yours, pulling you into his body as close as possible.
Your little whines as your lips moved against his drove him crazy and his cock was getting harder and harder by the second. Using his left hand he grabbed your jaw and urged you to walk backwards, without for a moment dropping your gaze.
Soon, you were on laying on your back decorating his bed. The whiteness of your towel was a beautiful contrast to the darkness of his sheets, as he pulled it off your body.
“Fuck, baby, you are so hot,” he said while scanning your body. To say he had never pictured you naked would have been a lie, but you were prettier beyond any imagination.
“Hotch,” you whined.
“Aaron,” he corrected you.
“Aaron, I need you. Please.”
He was dying to touch your body but his hand went to your face first, parting your lips, letting you suck on his finger. “I know you do.”
Your legs parted and the sight of your glistening cunt had his mouth water. You used your legs to bring him closer, wrapping them around his waist.
Your hands went to his belt, the feeling of them on his crotch driving him crazy. You moaned when you released him from his pants and that moan went straight to his ego, seeing how satisfied you were with his size.
Aaron’s finger was wet with your saliva and he run it down your neck, reaching your chest. Your nipples hardened even more under his touch and he could not resist putting one into his mouth, while he played with the other.
“You’re perfect,” he moaned. He lifted his head to look at you. “I want to make you mine.”
“All I want is to be yours.”
“I know,” he said. “I know. I can see that sweet little pussy dripping and begging for me. How are you this wet already?” he asked, when his hand finally found its way between your legs.
Your response was a sneaky smile.
“What does this little smile mean now?” he grinned.
“I was thinking about you,” you admitted. “In the shower…”
Oh, you were going to be the end of him.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“Will you show me, baby? Will you show me what you were doing while thinking of me? I wanna see you play with your pussy.”
You blinked ta him shyly.
“Come on, be a good girl and touch it.”
With a proud smile he saw your hand move, before two of your fingers disappeared inside you.
“Fuck,” he said, and started stroking himself at the sight of you. He bit his lips at the thoughts of all the ways he would use your body tonight.
“Need you,” you moaned. “Please, Aaron, I can’t.”
“What would your father say, honey, if I told him I had his daughter under me begging me to fuck her? If I told him she was begging for his best friend’s cock like a fucking slut?”
Your little cries drove him crazy and he placed the head of his dick on your entrance.
“You okay?” he whispered.
You nodded, and the next moment he was inside you.
His hips started rocking against yours, and Aaron thought that this had to be how being in heaven felt.
“You feel so fucking good,” he mumbled against your lips.
“Ah…Aaron,” you moaned. Your hand found his and he thought you wanted your fingers intertwined. To his surprise your request was something different.
“Put it on my neck,” you said.
“You like to be chocked, honey?”
“Mhm…”
He wrapped his hand around your neck and you wrapped your own hands around his wrist.
“Fuck, it’s so good.”
“I know, baby.”
“You’re so fucking big, I…I…”
“Are you close, baby? Will you come for me?”
“Yes, fuck, yes,” you screamed, and he felt your pussy pulse around him.
You looked like an angel while finishing, with your mouth open and your eyes closed. He stared at you, trying to memorize every single feature of your face. You were his now.
He pulled out and after a few strokes he was cumming all over your stomach. Your eyes were on his, and you were biting your finger with a playful smile. It seemed like you wanted to be fucked again, and who was Aaron to refuse you?
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ssaaaronmontgomery · 8 months
Note
give us some dbf!hotch i’m begging 😫😫
A Little Help
Warnings: Smut, dbf!hotch, oral (fem receiving), slight sir kink, pet names, vaginal fingering, gagging, masturbation (male and female), Hotch sends you a nude photo 🤭, age gap (both are consenting adults), not proofread, I think that's all!
Word count: 1.2k
Pairing: dbf!hotch x fem!reader
A/n: I've got some dbf!hotch in my drafts that I have yet to finish but maybe I can do a little something real quick 🤭.
Forever tags: @greg-montgomery @boredelle @hotchsdoormat @ssahotchnerr @criminalskies @beardedhotchh @hotchnerbau @ssamorganhotchner @mrs-ssa-hotch @canuck-eh @luvehotch @callm3c0nfus3d @ivyflowers13 @randomuserrs
Hotch: @14buddy22 @pastanoodles11 @htchnr
Let me know if you want to be added to my tags 🫶
This post is nsfw minors DNI****
You are in your bedroom when the party starts and you're having some trouble finishing yourself off so you can hurry up and get downstairs. Aaron had been on your mind and it was creating a problem between your legs that you couldn't ignore no matter how hard you tried, but once you got your hand between your thighs it seemed like you just couldn't quite get there. Not without help anyway.
You could hear the noise downstairs as the party your parents were throwing started to get a little louder and you could tell there were plenty of people there to distract your parents from your absence.
You continue to rub your clit as you try to bring yourself over the edge but it seems like every single time you might be getting closer, your body doesn't let you get there and it's more than frustrating for you. A few more minutes of this continue and you sigh at the frustration. It's right then that your bedroom door opens and you jump in surprise and move to cover yourself but you stop when you see Aaron walk through the door with a smirk on his face as he closes it behind him.
"Aaron!" You whisper shout at him and he chuckles a little as he sees what you've been up to. "So this is what's keeping you from the party? I'll have to come up with a different excuse for your parents. They asked about you but I think they're distracted by the new guests that keep talking their ears off." He stands there with that smirk and his arms crossed over his chest as he looks you over and you just lay there frozen as you look back at him. Your hand is still between your thighs but it has stopped its movements.
"You sounded frustrated before I came in, princess. Do you need some help?" His voice sends more arousal straight to your core and you lick your lips before nodding. He smiles and climbs on the bed and you instinctively spread your legs for him. Aaron situates himself between your thighs now and swats your hand away from yourself. He kisses and nibbles on the insides of your thighs, licking them and sucking on them.
Finally he gets his face right where you need it and he licks up some of your slick from your folds which immediately pulls a groan from him, thankfully it's muffled by your dripping cunt. The vibrations feel like heaven and you let your head fall back against your pillow as your hands tangle in his hair to keep him in place.
Soon enough Aaron is lapping at you. It's been a few weeks since he's tasted you and you've both missed it. He has felt starved from you and it is clear to you as he eats you out like he's desperate for it. His tongue flicks your clit and you moan at the sensation but a quick slap to your thigh quiets you down.
"Keep it down, princess. I love your sounds but right now we have to be quiet, okay? Can you do that for me, baby?" Aaron plants a soft chaste kiss on your aching bud and you whimper at him but nod. "Yes, sir." Another kiss. "Good girl." He moves his tongue to your hole and starts thrusting it in and out of you and he moans into your cunt as he gets a better taste of what he's been missing the last few weeks.
You have to cover your mouth with your hand when Aaron brings his hand up and starts rubbing your clit with his thumb as he continues to lap at your pussy. He quickly brings you your first and much needed orgasm of the night which causes another moan to slip from your lips but he lets it go for now so he can ride you through your high.
As soon as you finish, Aaron reaches for your lace underwear and grabs your mouth. He stuffs the fabric in and you look at him with wide eyes.
"You can't keep yourself quiet so we had to fix that." He quickly moves back down and wastes no more time before pushing two of his thick digits into your throbbing core. He brings his mouth back to your clit and starts licking and sucking and flicking it in a way that has you closing in on your second orgasm faster than you would have thought possible after how long it was taking you to just get your first one earlier by yourself.
Aaron pulls his mouth away briefly to speak. "Come on, angel. Be a good girl and soak my fingers. I know you can do it." As soon as he gets his mouth back on your sensitive bundle of nerves, your second orgasm crashes through you and you are both thankful for the underwear that is muffling your moans.
As soon as you come down from your second high, Aaron ceases his movements and pulls the underwear from your mouth. "I would love to stay and cuddle you but need to get dressed and get downstairs before someone else comes up to find you. And I need to go take care of this." Aaron gestures to his throbbing cock that is currently pressed against your hip.
You nod and he helps you up before handing the underwear back to you. You don't take it though. Instead, you push his hand back towards him. "Use it to get off. I have plenty of others." You smile at him and he just grins at you. When he kisses your lips you can taste yourself on them and it nearly makes you say 'fuck it' and decide to stay but you know you can't take any longer to join the party. So you reluctantly pull away and dress yourself as you move with wobbly legs.
"I'll see you downstairs then?" You ask him and he gets a little shy as he blushes and nods. "Yeah, in a few minutes. Tell them I had to use the toilet if they ask where I am." You nod your head and kiss him again, palming his member through the fabric as you do and he moans against your lips but you pull away and he sighs. "Okay, go before I change my mind and keep you up here with me. We can have more fun later but right now you really need to make an appearance at the party." You kiss him one last time before walking over to the door.
"Have fun, Aaron. Send me a photo. I want to see your cock wrapped up in my underwear as you get off with them." You wink at him and grin more which only makes him blush even more. He nods and you finally leave the room to join the party which you can't even remember the purpose of. Sure enough, a few minutes later you hear your phone chime and you sneak a glance at it to see a picture from Aaron. His large hand and your soaked underwear wrapped around his dick as he strokes himself in your room. It nearly makes you moan but you manage to suppress it and focus on the party once again.
You know you'll both be having some more fun later. You'll coincidentally have plans and have to leave shortly after Aaron does. And then you'll end up in his bed as he pounds into you and your moans will fill his ears as his fill yours.
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ssahotchnerr · 1 year
Note
Hi! Following from the DBF Hotch fic you wrote that I LOVED. Could you write one where they maybe bump into the guy she was with and even though he knows nothing happened between them, Hotch still gets jealous and possessive??
jealousy over coffee
AHHHH cw; dbf!hotch x fem!reader, age gap, possessive aaron, suggestive content <3
all characters within this are 18+
you offered the barista a quick smile before clutching onto the steaming cups in front of you. you turned from the counter a bit too swiftly, causing yourself to nearly stumble into the person directly behind you.
"i'm so sorry!" an apology exited your mouth immediately, steading yourself as well as the drinks. your eyes lifted to the person you had almost knocked over, and were quick to recognize as well.
"no worries, i approached you a bit fast myself." as if to further balance you himself, one of his hands found temporary placement on your forearm. "how are you? it's been quite a while."
"i've been alright," your eyes glanced towards the front of the cafe, your gaze meeting another familiar, more preferred one. the glint in your eyes was mischievous, practically daring him to intervene. "yourself?"
"i would've been better if you would've given me that call back," he offered you a look he probably thought was smooth. "but now that we're both here, why don't-"
as you anticipated, aaron sidled up to you, "is that one mine, darling?"
he was heavy on the emphasis, indicating there was more in his possession than just coffee.
you nodded, giving him a smile as you graciously handed him his cup. "just the way you like it."
"thank you," aaron granted you a quick kiss behind the shell of your ear. using his free hand, his fingers slipped into your belt loops, pulling your hip against his possessively. his eyes then lifted to the other in your presence, his stare unwavering in terms of gaining dominance. "and this is?"
as you recalled your previous meeting, a story aaron knew almost too well, you felt aaron's hand travel, landing on the curve of ass. he wasn't being very subtle about it either, his hand splayed across it in a firm grip for any eyes to see.
and it worked, the man, who's name you've honestly forgotten as aaron openly displayed you as his, was uncomfortably shifting his weight from one foot to another. it also didn't help that aaron's fixed, commanding look was unfaltering, as if he were challenging him to make an advancement and see what would happen if he attempted such. the fact that aaron was also clearly older was immensely assisting.
"oh," aaron's tone was unimpressed, bored as he kissed the place behind your ear once more. "well, we better get going. we needed a caffeine boost for some strenuous activities later." aaron's hand reached up, giving the end of your ponytail a sharp tug, causing a wave of heat right to your core.
as the two of you were heading out, aaron also didn't hesitate to call behind him, "in case you hadn't noticed, you won't be getting that call back."
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show-your-fangs · 10 months
Text
Swimming Pool ✿ Aaron Hotchner
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We Shouldn't (And Yet We Do) - Part One
Pairing: DBF!Hotch x f!Reader
Words: 12.6k
CW: 18+, NSFW, mdni, smut, a little angst and so much fluff.
Summary: You return home for the summer because of your parents’ drama but luckily for you, your father’s friend, Mr. Hotchner, is there to bring you some much needed comfort. 
Tags/warnings: shitty family life, age gap relationship (reader is 20, Hotch is 40), teasing, groping, perv!hotch, inappropriate thoughts and behavior, grinding, daddy kink bc fuck you, fingering (f receiving), protected piv sex (wrap it before you tap it or at least make sure you talk it over with your partner and get tested!).
a/n: Thank you so much to @canuck-eh for writing Loose Morals and reigniting my passion to write this series, and to @xladyxdreamer for putting up with my Moments angst to the point where this series is now my penance for it. Finally, to whoever started the DBF!Hotch train, you are a god and I love you.
Disclaimer: YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO REPOST MY WRITING ANYWHERE ELSE WITHOUT MY CONSENT. REBLOGS ARE ENCOURAGED THOUGH. YOU MAY NOT FEED MY WORK TO ANY AI DATABASES OF ANY KIND OR TO USE MY WORKS TO TRAIN AI. FUCK AI.
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Coming back home in the middle of summer was…a lot. You’d just finished your second year away at college and you weren’t supposed to come back home until Christmas six months later, a compromise you’d agreed to only for your mother. But then she’d called out of the blue, sobbing, hysterical, and you had booked a flight back home to Virginia before she’d even hung up. 
When you did finally arrive the morning after, she was much calmer, but the edge in her voice remained and you knew something was wrong. The only problem was that she refused to tell you what it was. It wasn’t until your high school friend took you out to lunch later that she finally clued you in as to what was going on. 
Your father had apparently been caught getting busy with another one of the professors at the college he taught at. Someone had taken a…suggestive picture and now everything was in shambles. Well, not everything, mostly just his own marriage. From the little bits of information you were able to string together from your mother, it was clear that he was gaslighting her into believing that the picture was taken out of context and he wasn’t actually having an affair.  
It had all blown up in your face about twenty minutes ago. Your house was packed with people, mostly your father’s close friends, colleagues, and their wives. He had decided to host an end of term/start of summer cocktail party to quell whatever doubts lingered amongst his social circles that whatever had or had not been taken didn’t mean anything and his marriage was still going strong. What he hadn’t accounted for, however, was you coming back to make sure your mother was alright. 
You’d been holding onto the anger all afternoon as you followed your mother around, yelling and complaining and just desperately trying to reason with her. You’d never been a huge fan of your father. Sure, he’d done the bare minimum to give you life and was now paying for the part of your tuition that wasn’t covered by all the scholarships you’d gotten so that you didn’t have to graduate with massive loans. But aside from the small kindnesses he awarded you every so often, your relationship was nonexistent.
It was almost as if he’d predicted your mood because he didn’t arrive at the house until the party was minutes from starting. You had thought about leaving, about going out and getting wasted with your high school friends, but before you could even tell your mother you were going out, you found her crying in the master bedroom. And just like that you were back to seeing red. 
The door swung open and you practically stormed towards it like a woman possessed. 
“We need to talk,” you started. “No, let me rephrase, I need to scream at you and you’re going to listen—”
“Honey,” your father said sternly, opening the door fully. “Do not be rude to Aaron, say hello.”
Shame hit you like a bus as Mr. Hotchner came into focus behind your father. Fuck, he was good. It was eerie how clever your father could be when he didn’t want to be told off, when he knew that he’d done something wrong and instead of owning up to it he’d do everything in his power to avoid talking about it. 
“Hi, Mr. Hotchner,” you managed through gritted teeth as your father walked past you and into the kitchen. 
“Hello, sweetheart,” he replied, an amused smile on his lips. “I didn’t know you were coming back for summer break.”
“I’m not,” you tried to keep your voice steady. He must’ve known why you were angry, why the sudden outburst, but he didn’t reply, he simply nodded, lips in a thin line, trying to look anywhere but you. 
“Well,” he broke the short silence. “I better put this on ice.”
He held out a bottle of Scotch he’d presumably brought over from his own house next door and walked after your father. You stood alone at the open door, the freedom of the night away from the exhaustion of fighting against your parents alluring. And yet you couldn’t seem to walk out, couldn’t seem to will your legs to move you in the direction of the rational choice. 
Your heart was beating unbearably fast, and it wasn’t because of whatever was happening between your parents. No, it had everything to do with the FBI agent that had just walked into your home and the way he had clearly glanced down at your exposed cleavage before he had to immediately shift his gaze to anything else. 
Aaron didn’t want to leave you there but he truly didn’t have a choice. You were wearing a tight black dress, so tight in fact that he could’ve sworn he saw every curve of your body. What had made it even worse was the way your breasts were practically spilling out of the garment, the trim of your lacy bra peeking around the edges. He’d felt like a teenager all over again, his crotch tightening uncomfortably as he tried his hardest to listen to the words coming out of your mouth to make sure that he responded eloquently. 
Your mother had already put out ice buckets and he practically slammed the bottle into an empty one. Was it stupid to chill Scotch? He honestly couldn’t even remember anymore as he desperately wished he could’ve dunk his already hardening erection on the ice as well. He needed to get a grip, needed to calm down, needed to pretend like he hadn’t already seen your body in the many pictures you had posted online in the two years that you’d been gone.  
He served himself a double, watching as you left the door wide open and retreated back upstairs. He lingered by the table for a moment, finishing his drink and calming himself down. He’d known you for a little over two years, at least on a first name, dinner at your house every month, type of way. You had just graduated high school when he started teaching part time at the college where your father also taught. The two of them had become fast friends and in the months that followed while you waited out the summer to start classes you had babysat Jack while Aaron was away on cases.
It was wrong and he definitely knew it. But there was something so captivating about you, about your kindness and curiosity and interest in not only his work but in him as a person. You loved getting to know people, getting to share secrets and discuss the root of existence and emotion and life. It was easy to forget that you were this young, your eloquence far higher than most of the adults that had just started shuffling into your home. 
He’d filled his glass up once more as your father’s friends and his colleagues arrived. He plastered on a polite smile and greeted everyone as they made their way through the house. The repetitive nature of small talk for the next twenty minutes allowed him to forget about you, calm his body down enough to appear normal, collected.
He had migrated to the backyard with the rest of his colleagues after a while, the men around him engaged in mindless conversation about the break ahead, their vacation plans, and anything that wasn’t about the elephant in the room, because he knew, they all knew, that your father had clearly been caught redhanded and if they didn’t get their wives to agree that he was nothing more than a victim, they could be taken down next. 
You waited until the backyard was packed with people before you emerged from your room. If your father didn’t want his friends gossiping about his affair tonight then you’d give them something else to talk about. And what better thing to gossip about than your father’s college age daughter practically displaying her body for all of his married friends and their wives. 
Wearing that skimpy thing that did nothing to cover you up could only mean one thing – you were trying to get back at your father. Aaron couldn’t help but almost choke on his drink as he watched you saunter back out of the house. His ears began ringing loudly as you swayed your hips, clearly asking for attention. You walked right up to the edge of the pool and dove in without so much as a single word, the stark contrast between the cocktail party and your rebellious, summer blowout attitude jarring. 
He couldn’t help but notice your father’s absence back out in the courtyard, your mother also conveniently nowhere to be seen. He could only assume that she was either consoling his poor, broken ego or sucking him off inside. Either outcome made him feel incredibly bad for you, bad that you had to come back home to rumors of your father’s infidelity and your mother’s complete denial of it. 
While she was working overtime trying to fix a one sided relationship, you were determined to lash out against it in the most childish way you could possibly think of, and that unfortunately meant parading around your backyard filled with middle aged men in practically nothing.
Well, fortunate for him because he got to see the way your nipples hardened against the sheer fabric the second you stepped out into the cold night air, got to marvel at way your waist dipped into your full hips, the plush muscle begging to be squeezed tightly, got to catch the faintest glance at the outline of your pussy against the red material. It was unfortunate because he knew he wasn’t the only one staring at you and he had to bite his tongue as he began to hear the men around him murmur about your body.
He wanted to step up and use his own frame to shield you from them, to hide you away from their practically salivating stares. But instead he simply took a sip of his drink and allowed himself to watch you like a hawk, to silently guard, determined to step in if any of them actually decided to turn their thoughts into action. Because even then he couldn’t help but feel protective of you.    
Your father came barrelling out of the house mere minutes later, your mother practically running to catch up and stop him. He was about to blow up, about to make a scene, one that you were eagerly waiting for when her hand landed on his chest and he seemingly remembered where he was and who he was surrounded by. He instantly relaxed his face and Aaron couldn’t help but take a step forward, tense and ready to fight him. 
“Honey,” your mother spoke instead, layering the guilt on thick. “Please get out of the pool, I don’t want you catching a cold.”
Aaron set his glass down and walked over to the little hamper by the grill, expertly fishing out a large towel. He could feel everyone else start to notice that he’d moved, that he was inserting himself into something that clearly had nothing to do with him. But it didn’t matter the second that your round, hurt, expressive eyes met his. His gaze softened, just for you, to let you know that you didn’t want to make this any worse than it already was. And for the first time ever, you listened to him. 
Your mother thanked him as he walked around them, towel extended in his hands for you to simply curl yourself into it. He could tell your cheeks were flushed with embarrassment, and when he draped the fabric over your shivering body, he could smell the faint, lingering scent of alcohol on your breath. He sighed deeply, just for himself and you followed suit, taking the moment to compose yourself. 
“Thank you,” you whispered, delicate fingers taking the towel from him and wrapping it around yourself, terrified of what your reaction would be if you’d let him do it for you. You were back inside the house in seconds, the party resuming quickly as your parents started their rounds of greetings and small talk. He lingered by the pool for a few minutes, not wanting to be incredibly obvious about following you inside. 
He told himself that he only wanted to make sure you were alright, that there was nothing wrong with being concerned for you after what had just happened. And so when the waiters began to pass out hors d'oeuvres, he took advantage of the distraction and slipped back into the house.
“Sweetheart?” he whispered loudly as he willed the wood beneath his feet not to creak loudly against the final step of the staircase. “Are you alright?”
The second floor was deserted, terrifyingly quiet and dark. He noticed the light was on in your bathroom across the hall from your room and he approached. The second his shadow landed over the wood, the door swung wide open, greedy hands grabbing a hold of his shirt and pulling him into the small room. 
“I need you,” you slurred, your hands sliding down towards his belt, trembling fingers struggling with the silver buckle. He couldn’t stop the groan that erupted from his throat, the sounds spurring you on.
He was so distracted by the thrill, the shock and surprise of your neediness, of your clear desire for him that his brain short circuited for a second, lost to the sensations he’d been craving from you for years. 
You’d never done anything like this before, never even flirted with each other as far as he was concerned since he made sure to watch his words around you, only allowing himself one thing, to call you sweetheart. Which could only indicate that your sudden boldness meant that you’d thought about this just as much as he had, that you’d caught him staring at you with hunger in his eyes just like he’d caught you staring at him with danger in yours. 
“Sweetheart,” he said bluntly, trying to use his words before he was forced to use his hands to stop you. “You’ve had a lot to drink,” you scoffed. “You’re upset,” your hand squeezed over the outline of his cock and it took everything in him to not let out a single sound. That seemed to do the trick as your confident demeanor slipped away and the terrified girl desperately trying to hide resurfaced. 
Tears laced your eyes, your chest began to shake, your hands trembled, slowly slipping away from his body. He scooped them both up in his warm, large palms, bending your arms over your chest before pressing you tightly to his. You began to sob then and it broke Aaron’s heart. Your face landed over his frantically beating heart. If you noticed through your tears you made no effort to comment on it. He held you like that for a while, not caring at all that his clothes were definitely wet now. 
“I’m sorry,” you whispered to him, arms crossing over your chest in a feeble attempt to cover yourself up now that you were clearly not going to get what you’d wanted only seconds before. He crouched down and picked up the towel off the floor, this time making it a point to drape it over you and wrap you tightly in it. You felt like a child, a dumb, stupid child that had just thrown a tantrum and had been scolded. It was humiliating. 
“There’s nothing to be sorry for, sweetheart,” he assured you, allowing himself to talk down to you just a little. His heart was still racing, his mind even more so now as he realized that the barrier that he’d put up between the two of you all those years ago had just been shattered into a million pieces. “Why don’t you take a shower and get some sleep?”
You nodded, refusing to look him in the eyes. But he would not have it. He hooked a finger under your chin, gently yet forcefully, pulling your gaze up to meet his. His thumb ghosted over your bottom lip, your mouth opening slightly without him doing anything to you. 
“Good girl,” he hummed and you practically whimpered, your thighs pressing together. The side of his mouth curled into the tiniest of smirks before he removed his hand from your body completely and walked out the door, leaving you alone in your bathroom with a fire burning in your chest. 
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You were unsure when the decision had been made, but you’d awoken the next day to a letter from your mother on the kitchen counter, the house spotless as the cleaning crew she’d hired probably went through it the night before. Your parents were gone for the rest of the summer, apparently one of your father’s friends had a timeshare at some resort in Italy and they were able to squeeze your parents into their trip last minute. 
You released a sigh you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. The memories of the events of the night before had been washing over you in powerful, drowning waves ever since you opened your eyes fifteen minutes ago. You regretted at least ninety percent of your actions, having been so wrapped up in getting back at your father that you had completely forgotten that your actions would also affect your mother. The look of disappointment, of complete and utter shame and embarrassment that had taken over her face as she spoke to you haunting, especially now in the brightness of the day. 
And then there was Mr. Hotchner. Fuck, you cringed every time you remembered what you’d done, how you’d come onto him so pathetically. You couldn’t deny the rejection didn’t hurt but he had been right. You were upset, unbelievably so, and it would’ve stung even more to think of your first time with him to have been because you were trying to make your father angry, not because you actually wanted to sleep with him. 
And oh boy did you want to.
As much as Freud was an idiot, you were very aware after two years of your psychology degree that your attraction to older men had everything to do with your need to seek the approval your father denied you from your romantic partners. 
You’d had a very childish crush on Mr. Hotchner for years. It was silly, something that kept your pussy wet at night and made your friends giggle whenever you told them about the hot neighbor that you used to babysit for. But you knew he was unattainable. You could never have him, and sadly, that only made you want him even more. 
In an act of defiance you hadn’t done what he’d told you to do the night before. Instead you took off the remaining pieces of clothing you still had on and tossed them into your shower before you walked across the hall to your room, pulled out the shitty bullet vibrator you’d left behind two years ago, and desperately tried to get yourself off. To say you’d been unsuccessful, your fingers and the weak device never even coming close to what you truly desired, what you needed. 
That had only made you angrier, angrier at yourself, angrier at him. By the time you had drank your first cup of coffee all of your embarrassment had washed away into cold, seething irritation. He clearly wanted you just as much as you wanted him. You definitely hadn’t imagined the way he responded to your touch, the way he’d groaned in response. And that was the problem. He’d been holding himself back, whatever friendly relationship the two of you had built, one that you regarded as honest and sincere nothing more than a facade he’d concocted to keep you at arm’s length. 
You grabbed a pair of sunglasses that your mother must’ve left on the kitchen counter and placed them over your eyes before walking back out to your backward. You were aware that there was a specific spot in front of the sliding doors that he could see from his house next door. You’d noticed it when you were babysitting one time, the thrill that he could’ve seen you in your bikini at some point that summer driving you insane. 
You didn’t want to be at arm’s length anymore. You refused to let whatever fears you were holding onto because of his relationship with your father to stop you from going after what you’d wanted for so long. 
You dragged a lounge chair over to that exact spot, the blaring sun perfectly over it as the excuse you needed in case he brought up your pathetic ploy. Once you were satisfied with your placement you shrugged off the robe you’d been wearing, the fabric falling off your shoulders and pooling around your feet in an instant to reveal absolutely nothing covering your body. 
You’d fallen asleep at some point, completely naked and aggravated. You made sure to take your time getting into a comfortable position over the chair, chest out, legs curled suggestively, putting all of your assets on display. With the bait set, it was now a matter of waiting for him to bite.  
You heard him yell your name across your house about ten minutes later. It didn’t surprise you that he had his own set of keys, your stomach already twisting in anticipation and excitement at just how easy it had been to get him exactly where you wanted him.
“Are you decent?” he asked with a smirk in his voice. He knew you weren’t. “Jack is here with me.”
You practically leapt off the chair, frantically picking up the robe and putting it on as the two of them walked out onto the backyard. Jack said your name then, chipper and excited, immediately melting away any ice left behind. You turned around just in time for the boy to wrap himself around your legs, squeezing you into a tight hug which you reciprocated, pulling him up to sit on your hip. 
“Hi, angel,” you greeted the boy. “How’s summer treating you?”
“Hot,” he replied, trying to push himself away from you. You couldn’t help but laugh, setting him back down in the shade. “Can we swim in your pool?”
“Of course you can!” you replied. “Do you mind if I join you?”
The boy’s eyes practically widened out of his head in joy, turning back to his dad with just an unbelievable amount of energy. 
“Not at all,” Mr. Hotchner replied for him and you shot him a smile before you excused yourself to go change into something kid appropriate. 
To say that he’d seen your little display was an understatement. He’d been sitting on his desk in his home office, finalizing his weekly schedule with Jessica when he saw you step out. He knew, after much trial and error, that you couldn’t see him from this angle, and so he made no effort to move to get a better look. 
And then you took off your robe and he was abruptly presented with your naked body. His mouth went dry in an instant, his pupils dilated, his heart pounded against his chest. It took him a full minute to realize that Jessica was trying to get his attention before his brain reconnected with his body and he asked her to repeat herself. 
Five minutes later he was hanging up the call and rushing down the hall to ask Jack if he wanted to go swimming. The boy practically leapt to his feet, running across his room to get himself ready. They didn’t have a pool at their house, so your mother had generously let them use theirs after you went away for college. She’d even gotten them key to the house and sent him the alarm code every time they changed it just in case. 
Aaron changed into his swimsuit in record time, practically tripping as he ran back and forth, all over the house, looking for the many, many toys that Jack definitely needed to stay distracted for the next few hours. As much as he wanted to walk over alone, find you naked and eager for him, fuck you on the lounge chair and then probably inside the pool to cool off, he couldn’t leave Jack behind, he wouldn’t leave Jack behind because he didn’t want you to know just how much you had affected him. 
This was a power move, one that he had fallen for instantly. What he needed to do was not give in, not give you what you wanted, continue to frustrate you, to tease you until you couldn’t take it anymore, all because he wanted to remind you that he held all the cards, that he was the one calling the shots, that he would be the one on top while you writhed in pleasure beneath him.
You returned a few minutes later in a plain black one piece. To say he was disappointed was an understatement, but he admired your decorum while you were around Jack. It was like a flip had switched, eyes clouded with lust and desire clearing away to joy and excitement to spend your day with a hyperactive kid instead of lazily sunbathing your troubles away. 
You handed Mr. Hotchner a bottle of sunscreen, having specifically chosen the cream kind instead of the spray so that he’d be forced to touch you when you asked, “Would you mind getting my back?”
He looked up at you with the same eyes from last night and you were surprised your knees didn’t buckle. He looked at Jack then to make sure the boy was adequately engrossed in his toys, clearly deciding which ones he was going to play with first, before he opened the bottle and squirted some of the cream into his palm.
“On my lap,” he ordered, low and just for you to hear. Your eyes immediately darkened and he smirked knowingly. You rolled your eyes then, reminding yourself that today was just playful after all. 
You stepped forward towards his opened legs and prettily sat yourself down on his thigh, your back to him. You’d already put your hair up so he went right in. His warm, sticky palms landed on the sides of your neck first, slowly sliding down your shoulders before they returned to the center and then slid down your exposed back. While you couldn’t wear the skimpy, barely there suit you wanted, you’d still chosen something that gave him a subtle peek of your body.
He continued his movements, unapologetically taking his time, dragging his touches, lingering over your neck and putting pressure around it. You shivered under his hands, your ass unconsciously grinding down on his leg. 
“Be a good girl and stay still,” he purred in your ear, his breath hot against your skin. You stilled immediately, his fingers squeezing around your neck softly in reward. “All done.”
Your brain processed the words and yet you made no effort to stand up, and he made no effort to make you. His hands grazed down your arms, the backs of his fingers practically leaving feather light kisses on your skin until they landed on your hips. He gave your love handles a squeeze before he let his hands settle over your lap, leaning down to rest his chin on the crook of your neck.
The gesture itself had been so casual yet unbearably intimate that you didn’t notice you’d stopped breathing until your lungs started to burn. You inhaled sharply, your entire body shivering as you tried to keep the panting at bay. 
“You say the word and I’ll stop, sweetheart,” he whispered against your neck, gentle and kind, his tone meant to reassure you that you still had power. You nodded and he pressed a kiss below your ear, making you shudder once more. “So responsive for me.”
A whine escaped your lips, making Jack turn back to face the two of you. His hands were off you before you could even register, your own body reacting instinctively as you shot up to your feet. 
“Ready to get in the water?” you managed, flashing the boy a bright smile. He nodded enthusiastically, picking up a few of his diving toys in one hand before taking your outstretched hand with his other one. He diligently led you to the shallow end of the pool and Aaron watched as you both threw the little fishes into the deep end, giggling as Jack tried to toss them farther than you. 
He took a moment to compose himself, a moment to shift the material of his swim suit to try and hide the evidence of his arousal. He hated how easy it was for him to come undone around you, how you had him wrapped around your finger and could get him hard by simply existing. It made him feel young again, his libido higher than it’d been in years, and it was all because of you. 
He was brought out of his thoughts when he heard you and Jack splash against the water. Jack resurfaced first, already panting as he worked overtime to keep himself above water. You appeared then, like a beautiful mermaid coming above water to lure unsuspecting sailors to their deaths. And in that moment Aaron knew that he’d sink to the bottom of the ocean if it meant he could have even a taste of you. 
“Daddy!” Jack yelled, getting his attention. “Come into the pool!”
“Yeah, daddy,” you teased. “What are you waiting for?”
All the playfulness drained from his face in a second, making you choke on your own saliva in response before it reappeared as if nothing had happened. Your thighs rubbed together, the knowledge of the effect your words had had on him thrilling. 
“Coming buddy,” he replied to the boy, choosing to ignore you as he stood back up, kicking off his flip flops and cannonballing into the pool. 
Jack’s laughter brought you back down to reality as the waves his dad had created crashed over you, cooling your overheating face. You watched him resurface at the other end of the pool, one of the fishes you’d thrown under between his fingers.
“One to zero,” he announced playfully and Jack gasped, immediately diving down to gather as many fishes as he could, giving Aaron the perfect pocket of privacy to glance back at you. His face fell into a stern look of warning, daring you to call him that again to see what you could find out. 
You smirked back briefly before diving underwater, the mere mention of a challenge overshadowing whatever tension lingered between the two of you. 
You grabbed three fishes, swimming across the pool towards him underwater. You made sure Jack was above water before you made your move, fingers wrapping around Mr. Hotchner’s trunks to pull yourself out of the water as you practically climbed him. 
You felt him tense against your touch and that made your body flood with warmth once more. You made him feel like this, you made him react like this, you had the same effect on him that he had over you. 
Your head pierced the surface and he wasted no time pulling you further out of the water, his arm hooking around your waist again and pressing your hip against his painfully hard erection. 
You gasped loudly, nervously looking around and noticing that Jack had thankfully gone back underwater so at the very least he wouldn’t see the euphoric expression on your face. 
“Fuck,” you moaned, your hands steadying yourself against his chest. “Mr. Hotchner,” you whined and his grip tightened. 
For a second you forgot about where you were and the game you were still playing. Your eyes landed on his. They were hazy, glossed over and dangerously close to snapping. 
“Address me properly,” he ordered, lifting his knee to slide between your legs and press you further into him. You swallowed a moan, your breathing ragged, your skin unbearably tight over your body. 
You opened your mouth to speak but the word was screamed into existence by a voice that wasn’t yours. The two of you turned to face Jack who was eagerly swimming over to where the two of you were. You started to shift uncomfortably, trying to pull away from him, but he kept you in place as if you weren’t caught in a compromising position. 
“Did you get tired of swimming?” Jack asked you like this was the most normal thing in the world and you managed a nod. “That’s okay! I get tired sometimes and daddy has to hold me too.”
Your cheeks heated up once more and you thanked every deity out there that the sun was so hot on your skin that the kid didn’t notice a change. Jack reached out and grabbed a hold of his father’s shoulder to keep himself above water before pulling out his other hand from under the water, a fistfull of the colorful fishes in his palm. 
“I got six!” he told you and you finally snapped out of your daze, groaning dramatically as you showed him your own loot only being three. 
“I demand a rematch!” you told the boy before tossing your fishes back into the pool. He followed your lead and held your stare, the two of you seizing the other up before he got tired of waiting and dove back into the water, his giggles getting swallowed by the water. 
“Little cheater!” Aaron let you go then and you followed after the boy. You were so concerned with winning the silly game that you didn’t even notice the dopey smile across his face, one that he couldn’t hide from himself, one that almost made his heart burst with happiness.   
You played with the fishies a few more times until Jack was complaining that he was starting to get hungry and the three of you got out of the pool to dry off while Mr. Hotchner ordered lunch. 
You reapplied Jack’s sunscreen, placed a hat over his head and a towel over his body before you walked into the house to make a pitcher of lemonade and get some of the fruit your mother had bought a few days ago so that you could snack on it while you waited for the pizza to get there. 
You’d cut the lemons and had started squeezing them into the pitcher when his hands wrapped around your waist again, his front pressing against your back forcefully. You ground your ass back into him, never once stopping your task. 
“Hi,” he whispered in your ear. 
“Hello,” you replied, squeezing a half of a lemon with your hand, too lazy to get something else dirty. 
“Thank you for today,” he continued, his hands now slowly running up and down your sides, begging to elicit a reaction from you. “I know it’s not exactly what you planned but Jack is having a lot of fun.”
You hummed in agreement. “I’m having a lot of fun too.”
“Oh, yeah?” he stepped forward, locking you in place between the counter and his chest. “I’m having a lot of fun three.”
You snorted at the insinuation and the terrible joke, and he laughed in return, the two of you devolving into a fit of giggles like you’ve known each other intimately for years. And in a weird, almost strange way, you had. You’ve always had this rapport with him, this deep understanding of each other, mostly because you were both so into the other that you’d actually spent many nights asking questions, eager to know more. 
“Can I kiss you?” he asked you once the laughter subsided and your heart started beating rapidly once more. 
You immediately twisted around in his grip, holding your hands up and away from him as the juices from the lemons ran down your arms. 
“Yes,” you heaved and he didn’t waste another second as he pressed his lips to yours. They were so soft and still warm from the sun still lingering over them, lulling you into a sense of safety. You opened your lips as his hands left your waist and cupped your jaw to press you further into him. You moaned into his mouth as his tongue entered, deepening the kiss into a hungry and desperate mess. 
He pulled back so you could breathe after a few more laps and your eyes blinked open, the light reflecting against them and making them shine almost ethereally. He smiled, his thumbs rubbing over your cheeks. You returned the smile, somehow already feeling warm and fuzzy from just a kiss. He leaned in again, his nose playfully tickling your own, making you giggle sweetly. He truly wanted nothing more than to make you laugh all the time. 
He was about to press his lips against yours again, already craving the feeling like a man that had been left to wander the desert for days, when his phone rang loudly, interrupting the tender moment. He sighed deeply, apologetically looking at you and you immediately shook your head, letting him know not to worry about it. He picked up the phone, determined to make the conversation quick so he could return to what he truly wanted to do. 
In the meantime you finished the lemonade, washed your hands with soap, and brought the pitcher, some glasses, and the bowl of cubed watermelon to the table outside. You checked in on Jack, the boy having fallen asleep, making you chuckle softly. You sat yourself at the table and waited for him to come back, already missing his lips. 
It was certainly an interesting turn of events, made even more interesting by how easy it was to fit into his life. Even with your parents you always felt like the odd one out, like they were their own thing and you just sort of existed around them. But with Mr. Hotchner and Jack…you felt like you just fit right in, like you’d always been a part of their family.
When he finally exited into the backyard he bore a very different expression on his face, one of remorse and stress. The playfulness from before had left his body and all that remained was the stoic FBI agent you’d sometimes get when he returned from cases or…got called into one. 
You sighed deeply, knowing that was exactly what had happened and he had to stop himself from melting at the thought that you just knew what he needed before he could even ask it. 
“Do you need me to look after Jack?” you asked as he sat down on the chair across from you. 
“Please,” he replied, taking your hand in his and squeezing gently. “Jessica can pick him up at school Wednesday afternoon and take him to her place.”
You nodded, returning the squeeze and trying to alleviate his guilt with an understanding smile. 
“When do you leave?” he asked you then, one of the many elephants in the room finally getting addressed. 
“Friday morning,” you replied and it was his turn to sigh, defeated. As much as you understood his work and just how much he needed it, he also understood your own, your life being far away from D.C., far away from him. He just wanted you all to himself, here with him all the time, and it pained him that he couldn’t have it. 
After allowing himself another moment of sitting in silence, of feeling his emotions and letting them tear his heart into pieces, he stood up, pulling you to your feet with him. He crushed his lips to yours and your hands finally tangled in his hair, his own greedily squeezing your hips. 
“Pizza should be here any minute,” he mumbled against your lips. 
“I got it, don’t worry,” you replied, pressing a closed kiss on the corner of his mouth. “Why don’t you say goodbye to Jack?”
He nodded, reluctantly letting you go as he knelt down beside the lounge chair and woke the boy up. You watched as they said their goodbyes, your fingers coming up to trace your lips where he’d just kissed you, all the conflicting things you were feeling crashing over you at once.
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The first phone call came that same night. It was late, you were already asleep when your phone vibrated on the nightstand next to you. You were honestly surprised that you’d heard it, annoyed more so than surprised as your eyes blinked open painfully. 
“Hello?” your voice was deep, hoarse and clearly exhausted. 
“Hi, sweetheart,” his on the other hand was soft and awake. 
“Hi,” you replied, settling back on the soft pillow and closing your eyes. 
“Did I wake you?”
“Mhmm,” you whined and it broke his heart.
“I’m sorry,” to his credit, he did sound sorry. 
“It’s okay,” you mumbled. 
“I just wanted to say goodnight to Jack.” And to you. 
“He fell asleep immediately…” You tried to stay awake, desperately, but sleep was pulling you down, the heat from spending the entire day under the sun had seeped deep into your bones, making them heavy. The current had sinked your boat and you were peacefully sinking under the waves with it. You didn’t even register him calling your name, realizing that you were probably out of it, and finally telling you that he’d call you another time. 
You woke up bright and early the next morning, your senses overwhelmed by just how much his bed smelled like him. 
It was honestly a stupid thought, that the things that were his carried him with them, but it didn’t matter how many times you’d slept here in the past, there was something so all consuming about them now. 
Your three days with Jack went by quickly. You had forgotten how much of a perfect kid he was, how attentive and kind and easy it was to take care of him. Getting him ready for school was a breeze, breakfasts were filled with laughter and him rambling on about the dream he’d had the night before. Once you dropped him off at school, you found yourself missing him more than you ever had, and so you spent your days wandering aimlessly.
On Monday you cleaned the entire house, top to bottom. You put on one of Mr. Hotchner’s records on and drowned the house in music, your voice booming just as loudly as the singer’s, wanting nothing more than to distract yourself from the ache in your chest.
On Tuesday there was a lice outbreak and luckily, Jack was not affected. They still had to shut down the school for the day, so Jack had gotten a half day. You took him to the store to buy enough baking supplies to start your own bakery, and spent the rest of the afternoon making cookies and cupcakes. 
It was around six that your phone rang. You were in the kitchen, cooking dinner for the two of you. Saucepan forgotten, you immediately crossed the room, fingers fumbling to answer the phone. 
“Hey, give me one second,” you cut him off, putting him on speaker before you stepped out into the hall. “Jack! Your dad’s on the phone!”
“I don’t know if I should be touched or offended that you don’t want to speak with me,” he cracked and you couldn’t help but smile, making your way back to the device on his counter. 
“I always want to talk to you,” you hummed. “But I also know you’re busy and—”
“Dad!” Jack ran into the kitchen, swiping the phone away from you and running right back down the hall. You laughed to yourself, returning to the stove before you burnt something. 
You hadn’t been speaking, not really. Every so often you’d send him a picture of what you were up to and he’d do his best to reply, always short and sweet. He never sent any pictures of his own for obvious reasons, but it still made your heart constrict every time that you woke up the morning after to a missed call from him.
They were on the West Coast, in a small town somewhere in Oregon. At least that’s what you’d gathered from the messages here and there. By Wednesday you said goodbye to Jack at dropoff and told him you’d see him for Christmas. He was, understandably, very upset, since you’d just spent, what he kept calling, the best three days of his life with him. It broke your heart, shattered it into a million pieces, but you reminded him that you didn’t live there anymore and that you had other places to be. Obviously not cooler than spending time with him, but that it was still important. 
Jessica called you that afternoon to let you know that she had Jack and you chatted for a bit. She was always so easy to talk to, her openness to their strange family dynamic almost overwhelmingly supportive. She always remembered your birthday, always sent you a card (one that you knew she’d been making Mr. Hotchner and Jack to sign every year), and always made sure to ask if you were coming back home for any major break.
She liked having you around, liked the extra support you had given them while Jack was out on his own break, liked that the boy clearly loved you and felt safe around you. And after the three days you had spent with him then, it only made sense to start thinking about actually coming back home next summer to help them out, to have an excuse to see him as often as you could. 
You spent Wednesday and Thursday working on the tasks you'd been left with from your internship. They had graciously allowed you to go home after you informed them there was a family emergency, but you still had to meet the weekly quota, just like everyone else. Being in your house alone was...exhausting. It was too quiet, too empty, too devoid of Jack's infectious laugh and...and Mr. Hotchner's low and inviting voice. 
You hadn't spoken to him since you let him know Jessica had picked his son up. You knew he was busy, knew that he probably didn't want to speak to you while his mind was not in the right place, while he was using most of his energy to do his job. He didn't text and so neither did you. And as much as you understood why, the silence had only made your heart clench in pain, your brain already overthinking all the possibilities.
He was supposed to arrive in a few hours, having received the only text he'd sent to tell you that they were about to take off and that he should be back home in a few hours. 
You’d decided to get one last swim in before you returned to your concrete life that was Brooklyn. But if you were being honest with yourself, you just needed a distraction. 
You’d been drowning, quite literally, as the finality of the distance that you were about to put between yourself and Mr. Hotchner loomed closer and closer. Sure, he traveled a lot for work, he was away at least sixty percent of the time…but you had moved away two years ago with the intention of cutting yourself loose of all the ties keeping you in D.C. 
It had been easy to do so, the only one that truly hurt you every day being your mother. But now, after sitting with your overwhelming crush that has snowballed into catching actual feelings for him…was hell.
You needed to talk to him about it, needed to ask him to tell you that everything was going to be okay, that you could make this work, whatever this was. But you also didn’t want to pressure him, didn’t want to pressure yourself to get tied down to something that could very easily not work out.
You were floating on your back, simply allowing the water to gently rock you around the pool when you saw a pair of slacked legs walking towards the edge of the pool. 
“There you are, sweetheart,” he hummed. “I’ve been calling for a whole minute and you didn’t answer.”
You stood yourself up, shooting him an apologetic smile as you walked towards him. 
“'m sorry,” you murmured, the tightening on your heart only squeezing harder now that he was really here. He shot you a smile in response but he looked tired, defeated almost. You could only imagine what it must feel like to walk around with all of that weight, with the burden of the atrocious things they dealt with every day. 
He squatted down next to the edge and you propped yourself up on the space between his legs to pull yourself high enough for his lips to reach yours. The kiss was short and soft, domestic almost, as if you did this every time he came back home from a long case.
You slid back into the water, unable to hold yourself up any longer as an excuse to put some distance between the two of you. You were certain that if he stared at you for even a second longer, he would definitely know there was something wrong, that somehow he’d be able to see into your body and realize just how contorted your heart was.  
“Join me?” you asked, trying to change the subject before it was even brought up. 
He sighed, conflicted. “I don’t think we should, sweetheart.”
“Please,” you whined. “I promise I’ll behave.”
He chuckled at that, knowing fully well that you most definitely would not, because he would most certainly not. But he found himself standing back up, quickly shrugging off his button down, the white wife pleaser underneath, his shoes, socks, and pants. You watched him in awe, mouth hanging slightly open as you began to salivate, your desire quickly making you forget all about your painful feelings.
He smirked at you as he sat down on the edge of the pool and slowly lowered himself into it. You hadn’t realized until he stretched his hand out to you that you’d drifted away to the other side of the pool. You took a small, steadying breath, trying to appear as normal as possible before you walked back to him. 
His hands wrapped around you instantly, bringing you into him tightly. It was almost as if he relaxed into you, his breathing deep and steady, a drastic contrast to your rapidly beating heart. You tried so hard to copy his rhythm, to blend into it in a feeble attempt to not raise suspicion, to show him that you were happy he was back.
And it worked...for almost a second. 
“Thank you for taking care of Jack,” he said. 
“It was my pleasure,” you replied almost too quickly. 
“Alright, what’s wrong?” he pulled back, his gaze desperately trying to meet yours. 
You hated him so much, hated how good he was at his job, hated how he could read you like it was the easiest thing in the world. Meanwhile, you were having to use all of your knowledge to just guess how he was feeling. 
“Nothing’s wrong,” you lied, your fingers subconsciously fiddling with his hair. He sighed, shifting your core away from his as his hand snaked down to pull your swimsuit bottoms out of the way. Your eyes widened in shock and confusion, finally snapping up to meet his but his attention was no longer on your face. 
Before you could question the sudden advance, he plunged his middle finger into you, making you moan loudly, your walls clenching around him.
“Tell me what’s wrong,” he ordered, his finger curling upwards to hook against the spot that he somehow knew instinctively would make you come undone. 
You whined, holding onto him tighter. “I’m scared!”
“Of what?”
“This–” he curled his finger again, another moan erupting. “Us– fuck, I’m scared that I won’t be able to see you every day and it’ll mess up whatever this is,” you practically screamed. 
His movements stilled and you decided to foolishly allow yourself to meet his eyes. He was staring at you with what you could only describe as relief? 
You blinked, realizing that he was allowing you to read him like he could read you. You’d said exactly what he was thinking, what he was also holding in, what the heaviness that he carried had been about.
He pressed further into you. “Do you want to be mine?”
“Yes,” you moaned. “I want to be yours, all yours.”
“That’s good,” he groaned. “Because I want to be all yours too, sweetheart.”
You whined at his words, the tight grip fear had on your heart releasing just enough to let you breathe again. 
“I thought…” you trailed off, afraid that if you said what you’d thought aloud that he’d hate you. Instead he just waited patiently for you to muster the courage to say what you’d been holding in. “I thought you might only want to fuck me and nothing else.”
He shoved another finger into you at that, as if you say how dare you think that. You moaned again, your body tensing up, your walls pulsing around his fingers, practically keeping them hostage inside of you. 
“So tight,” he mumbled, clearly needing a moment to regain his composure before he spoke again. “I’ve wanted you– to be with you for a while, sweetheart. I was just…afraid of how it could destroy your relationship with your parents.”
The second elephant in the room reappeared and you couldn’t help but get another one of your fears off your chest. 
“Did you know he was…” you trail off before you can finish your sentence but Aaron knew exactly what you wanted to ask him. 
“No, I didn’t,” he shook his head, intensely observing your reaction. When you tensed under his touch he wasted no time to press a soft kiss to your temple. If you didn’t know but now you do then why are you still hanging around with him? That was the second part of your question, of your uneasiness, of your tensing body. 
“To see you,” he murmured against your skin and you pulled back from his touch, far enough to look him in the eyes. “I kept coming back to see you.”
The confession made your stomach flip. You didn’t know how to respond, how to tell him that you’d felt the same way in a way that didn’t make you come across as insane or clingy or immature. So instead you smiled softly, leaning forward to press your lips to his once more. His grip on your body tightened, his lips on yours opened, pulling you further into him. You may not have tomorrow, but you definitely had tonight. 
“I am more than happy and willing to take this slow, to just see where it goes,” he makes it crystal clear, no way to misinterpret his words, no way for you to twist them until you’ve convinced yourself that you’re crazy. Instead you just let your mind free. 
“Please fuck me,” you begged and a groan loudly erupted from his throat. His fingers resumed their fast pace but you whined in response, trying to stop him. “No, I need your cock in me, please.”
He shushed you then, kissing your temple gently as he only doubled down in his forcefulness.
“Let me make you cum first,” he replied. “I gotta stretch you out, you’re so tight.” 
You whimpered then, a symphony of breathy moans as you remembered just how big he’d felt through his pants. If he was telling you he needed to work you up before he could slide inside of you then you would obey. Fuck, the anticipation alone was going to be the death of you. 
The water began to splash over the edge, the constant crashing of waves somehow in perfect synchronicity to the pace he’d set. It quickly became overwhelming, as if your pleasure was so intense it was actually transcending your body and manipulating the world around you.
You moaned into his ear, your hands desperately digging into his back, trying to anchor yourself to him, afraid that you could slip away at any moment. He began peppering kisses along your jaw, each one lower and lower until he was physically unable to reach any more of your skin due to the water level. 
You were so close, so, so, close and he could feel it. Your body had tensed, your toes curled against his lower back, pulling him closer to you. And with one final thrust against the spot inside of you that made you see stars, the band snapped and you were screaming, not caring if the neighbors could hear you. 
He worked you through your orgasm, his fingers slowing down to a bearable pace as you rested your forehead against his chest. 
“Are you okay, sweetheart?” he asked, clearly concerned that you hadn’t said something for a couple of minutes. You nodded against his body, slowly pushing against his chest to face him. 
“Never better,” you replied and his eyebrows shot up in provocation. 
“Do you want to make them a little better?” he teased and you couldn’t help the smile that took over. 
“Yes.”
He pulled his hand out of you and you whined at the loss of contact. 
“Such a greedy girl,” he mocked. “You’re about to be stuffed with my cock and you’re whining about missing my fingers.”
You shivered, eyes darkening as he grabbed a hold of your hand and led you back to the shallow end of the pool. He helped you out of the water, his hands attentive, possessive, never once letting you take a step without being on you.
Once you were out of the water he pulled you into him swiftly, lips back on yours with abandon. You practically melted into his touch, into his embrace, into him. Every thought in your brain was about him, about how soft his lips were, about how he smelled like a warm fire in a forest, about how his rough hands felt on your body, about how desperate he was for you. 
You didn’t even register as he undid the knots of your bathing suit, only felt the cold air against your nipples, making them immediately perk up. The back of his hands accidentally brushed one as he shuffled to discard your top and you moaned into his mouth. The noise that reverberated from him in response was addictive. His eyes snapped open and he pulled back, your own lips chasing his in protest. 
But he didn’t give you a second to figure him out as he arched your back with his hands, his mouth latching onto the nipple he’d just touched. It was your turn to mewl, eyes glossy and hands hungry to dig into him. 
“Aaron,” you whimpered and he froze, ice cold, fully stopping his movements. His mouth softly unlatched from your breast, a thin string of saliva connecting him to you. Your face heated up immediately, the mere thought that you did something to upset him filled your eyes with tears.
“What did you say?” he asked, softly, as if he knew you were feeling like a small little animal and he needed to be careful not to spook you.
“A-Aaron?” you mumble, not even once fully comprehending what you had just done. 
“You’ve never called me Aaron before,” he explained, taking pity on how much your brain was clearly not working at the moment.
You blinked in confusion, a tear accidentally falling down your cheek. He immediately wiped it away, looking down at you with eyes filled with nothing but adoration.
“I’m sorry—” you started, unsure exactly what you’re apologizing for. And he shuts you up with a kiss immediately.
“Say it again,” he groaned against your lips.
“Aaron,” you repeated, his name finally feeling heavy and important on your tongue. 
He places a kiss on the corner of your mouth. “Again.”
“Aaron.”
Another kiss, this one on your neck. “Again.”
“Aaron,” he licked down to the base of your neck, his teeth greedily sinking into your soft skin as his lips suck. “Fuck, Aaron, please.”
You whined again, the sting of his mouth marking your body absolutely making you lose it. Whatever wits remained evaporated in an instant. When he pulled back, eyes practically raven, face flushed, lips plump and swollen, you couldn’t help the need to reward him. 
Your hands landed on the pronounced outline of his cock against his still wet, black boxers. He wasn’t quick enough to stop you as you wasted no time pulling the fabric off him. Your eyes widened, your breathing hitched in your throat, your hand trembled slightly as you abandoned your efforts to get his boxers down his thighs and instead tentatively returned your hand to hover over his length. 
He was so hard, the vein running along the underside practically pulsating. You tentatively traced it with your nail and he hissed. You smiled to yourself, your full palm replacing your finger as you wrapped your hand around him, slowly pumping him. 
His own hand curled around your wrist, demanding you to stop. Your eyes shot up to finally see him, to see just how clenched his jaw was, just how deep his breathing had become. 
“No, sweetheart,” he huffed. “I need you.”
As if you could both finally read each other’s minds, you untangled yourselves from each other, discarding the clothing that remained on your bodies and tossed it away before his eyes landed on you, on your naked frame, now right in front of him and not far away, separated from him by the haziness of glass. 
His eyes raked lower to your pussy and his brows knitted in surprise. 
“You have a tattoo,” the question blended into a statement as his hand gripped your hip, pulling you forward so that he could see it better. You bit your lip, amused by just how mesmerized he looked. 
“A friend of mine gave it to me first semester,” you explained, omitting the many health code violations, how you’d been high and couldn’t remember actually getting it, or the fact that you had been sleeping with your friend when he did. 
He traced his thumb over it, the placement was lower than your hip, easily hidden by your underwear and small enough that he’d never been able to make it out at a distance. His thumb dug into the center of the shitty heart then, anchoring his grip as he pulled you back to him. You moaned at the sting and it only spurred him on, the realization that you liked it when he hurt you igniting a fire in him. 
His other arm hooked under your ass, lifting you over his shoulder. You gasped loudly, your confusion quickly turning into a fit of giggles as he moved you both towards the lounge chair that you had rearranged earlier that week to face his house. 
He made sure to hook his foot around the pants he’d discarded earlier, kicking them forward with his foot, making sure that they landed right against the chair. He then unlatched the backrest and quickly set you down on it, your entire body over the comfortable foam cushion your mother had bought last year just for the Hotchners. 
He knelt between your legs, hands running down your body to pry them open for him. It didn’t take much as you opened yourself up to him eagerly. He grinned, the smile that graced you one that you’d never seen from him before, one that even he couldn’t remember when he’d smiled like that last.
Before he forgot, he reached over to where he’d thrown his pants, growing impatient as he struggled to pull out his wallet and procure a single silver wrapper from it. You’d been so consumed by the moment that you hadn’t even thought about protection. 
You thought about telling him not to, that you were on birth control and that as far as you were concerned you were clean. But you had no idea where he’d been, not that talking about his sexual partners bothered you, but bringing it up now did not seem like the right time.
“Someone was sure of himself,” you teased, watching him roll on the sheer latex over himself with more concentration than you’d ever seen from him before, and that was saying a lot. 
He retaliated by slamming his tip into you without warning. Your head fell back, a moan rocking through you and down to your core, the waves reverberating against him, causing him to take a sharp, steadying breath.
“You ready, sweetheart?” he panted, a little condescending and you swallowed the urge to fight back, to resume the game you’d started when you called him daddy. He didn’t know just how deep you were willing to go, how much fun the two of you would have. 
But tonight wasn’t the night for it. You needed him, craved him, desperately demanded that he fill the ache between your legs. You nodded, your hands gripping the cushion below you.
He couldn’t help but chuckle at your need to anchor yourself, his ego boosted so high he had no idea how he was supposed to come back down. But he didn’t care, he couldn’t care, not when you were laid out in front of him like a buffet, what he’d been starving for the only thing on the menu now.
His left hand wrapped around your thigh, opening you further. You propped your other leg over the armrest, and he pushed forward. He had not been lying, fortunately for you. He stretched you painfully, practically stuffing you full. 
He made it halfway into you when you hissed, one of your hands shooting up to wrap around his bicep, urging him to stop. He stilled immediately, slowly rocking his hips back to slide out of you before slowly pushing himself back in. 
That’s when you fell, your arms giving out under you. An accomplished grin lit up his features. He sat himself back up on his heels to tower over you. Your hand sliding down to the one he’d wrapped around your leg, your fingers lacing with his, almost like a pinky promise as he continued his slow rhythm, never giving you too much, never forcing your body to take anything it wasn’t ready for. 
You could practically feel the wetness dripping out of you, coating him more and more with every thrust. He could clearly feel it too, the slick making it easier for him to slide in and out of you each time.
He took it as an indication to keep going. He thrust back into you, pushing himself just an inch further than before. You were a mess of whines and whimpers, your back arching in response, needing him fully in you. 
“Please, Aaron,” you slurred. “More.”
He pulled out of you completely, the desire to see himself slam back into you fully overwhelming. His hips pushed forward, easily sliding himself inside to the hilt, your ass slapping against his hips beautifully. He moaned then, his hands flying to your hips, locking you in place. You whimpered, your head craning up enough to see there was no space left between the two of you. 
“Fuck,” you mumbled, your walls clenching around him unconsciously. 
His eyes shut close in pleasure at your movement, jaw clenching, fingers digging into your skin deeper. You took him in, on the verge of coming undone, on the verge of cumming in seconds like a teenage boy that didn’t know how to stop himself. 
You giggled, your warm laughter bringing him back to you as he realized what you were laughing about. He scoffed, blush creeping over his cheeks in the most adorable way. You clenched around him again, deliberate and mean. He almost screamed then, the moan that left his lips guttural and raw. 
“Sweetheart, you’re killing me,” he huffed. “I don’t want to cum yet, give me a second, alright?”
You sighed, feigning annoyance, but respected his request, unclenching your muscles to give him a moment of respite. Your hands began to draw circles over his own, nails slowly dragging up his arms and towards his chest, gentle, curious, exploring.
You took your time, diligently running your fingers over every ridge, every dip, every single one of the scars that littered his abdomen. They were smaller now and faded from what they had been when he was first attacked, but you knew they were there.
He hadn’t told you the full story, hadn’t really mentioned it aside from briefly alluding to it when he was forced to explain a comment Jack had made in passing one time, a comment about his mother. But you’d noticed them years ago, and as much as he could act like he was over it, like he was comfortable being shirtless around you, you needed him to know that he was safe, that he could trust you.
He didn’t flinch under your touch, instead he hummed, his own hands shifting their grip on you to show you how much he appreciated your touch.
“Did you catch the bad guy?” you asked suddenly. He turned to face you with a scolding expression, this is clearly not the time for this. It only made you laugh again, embarrassed. “What? Thinking about gross things helps!”
“I don’t want to ever think about that when I’m with you, got it?” he commanded.
“Yes, sir,” you replied and his eyes darkened once more, whatever fear of bursting immediately leaving his body as lustful greed flooded back in, emboldening him.
“What you called me the other day,” he started, somehow both confident in what he wanted to ask and yet boyishly shy about it. “Are you okay with that?”
“What did I call you?” you acted dumb, so dumb indeed that it got you another powerful, forceful jam of his cock. You squealed, his tip now uncomfortably pressing deeply into you. “No, daddy, ’s too much,” you whined, your voice hitching into a sweet, high pitch that made his cock twitch inside of you. “It hurts.”
“Too deep?” he asked in his normal voice, making sure to check in with you. You nodded, desperate for him to pull back, and he immediately returned to the comfortable pain. You let out a deep breath, air filling your lungs again. He was concerned, but more than anything he was turned on, the desire to ruin you too strong. “I’m going to start moving, alright?”
“Yes, daddy,” you mumbled and he groaned loudly, his cock practically taking on a life of its own and making him react in a way he’d never experienced before. 
Aaron understood what desire was, he knew what it felt like, knew what to do with it, but this? This wasn’t desire. This was debilitating, allconsuming, painful almost. His brain disconnected from his body, it was as though he was floating next to his body as well as feeling everything that was happening around him, to him, because of him. 
He wanted to consume you, wanted to lose himself to the perfect sounds coming out of you, wanted to feel your tightness around him all the time, wanted to drown and stay at the bottom of your waters forever. 
His moans danced with yours in a delicate choir ensemble, the slapping of your bodies coming together becoming the bass keeping the pace, the rattling of the lounge chair against the concrete floor the percussion, the scrapping of the mattress against the plastic the strings – it was all too much, too good, too perfect. 
“I’m close, sweetheart,” he whined. “Rub your clit for me.”
Whatever coherent thoughts were left in you forced your body to obey immediately, your shaky hand landing in between your bodies. Your fingers were met with a lewd amount of slick, your clit puffy and screaming out to be touched. You rolled your fingers over it and the sensitivity sent you into overdrive, a snap of electricity running all the way down to your opening. 
He moaned in response, your core starting to tighten with each thrust, with each touch. The pressure was tight, tighter, desperately trying to force your dam to burst. 
“Daddy,” you whimpered. “Daddy, please, please, please, please–”
“Cum, sweetheart, cum all over me,” he demanded and you let it break. Waves of pleasure crashed against you, your entire body shaking, thrashing, slamming against his. Your moans turned into whines, you dug into his forearms, your legs hooked around his waist, pulling him further into you, locking him in place. 
The second he felt you clench against him, the second he felt your core tighten, your slick warm his entirety, your nails digging into his arms so hard he wouldn’t be surprised you drew blood – he lost it. He managed to thrust into you two more times before he slammed himself as far as he could inside of you, not caring if it was uncomfortable for you. 
He came hot and hard into the condom, his own pleasure blurring his vision, making his own body shake against yours, making his heart feel like it had skipped a beat. He stopped breathing for a few seconds, the sensations too overwhelming for his body to remember that it needed to breathe to survive. 
You were panting hard, your chest rising and falling as if you’d just ran a marathon. Your nails had stopped digging into his skin but he barely registered the lack of pain. It wasn’t until you ran your fingers over the indents in his arms that he opened his eyes, seeking yours immediately. 
You waited until his gaze met yours as if it was about time it did. You smiled lazily at him, completely spent, content, satisfied. He returned the smile, allowing himself to lower his body down over yours. His chest pressed against your own, softly caging you, holding you captive as his aching lips found yours. 
This kiss was unlike any of the ones you’d shared, unlike any of the ones you had shared with anyone before. It was definitive, possessive, claiming you as his, and yet it was unbearably gentle, playful, wholesome. 
He was the first to pull back for air, but he didn’t move away, instead he pressed his forehead to yours, his gaze unflinching, trying to communicate so much with no words at all. It was like he was making sure to savor every last drop, committing the sight and feeling of you to memory. 
Aaron took much of his life for granted, the routine of it all having numbed him to most things that other people would deem as exciting or fulfilling. The only area of his life where that wasn’t the case was his son. That little boy made everything worthwhile, every battle worth fighting, every day worth living. And now, looking at you, feeling how good he’d made you feel, he knew had found something else, someone else, that made him feel excited for what the next day could bring. That made him feel fulfilled in more ways than he could yet comprehend. 
Whatever doubts you’d had, whatever walls you had started to put up to protect yourself now laid crumbled all around you. He was right from the start, you were his, whatever that happened would happen, the best that you could do was ride the waves and see where they would lead you. All that did matter was that he was there and that you knew that he was also yours. 
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If you made it this far, thank you so much for reading! This chapter was a blast to write after all the angst that Moments has killed me with.
My requests are open! I have a few chapter ideas for Mr. Hotchner but I would love to hear what y’all would like to see. Even if it doesn’t make it into the actual series, I will try to write some cute lil blurbs.
And also, because I’m a writer that needs validation, please leave me comments or love letters if you’d like to remain anon. I need the praise and love, thank you 🩷
Ps. The next chapter is titled Guest Lecturer so you can imagine what kind of debauchery I’m about to write.
Pss. Let me know if you’d like to be tagged in future updates!
616 notes · View notes
whiskey-bumblebee · 10 months
Note
Hey, hope you're doing good today 🤠 dbf!Hotch who notices reader "having trouble with her car" and he helps her? She's more than capable of doing it herself, but she just wanted a reason for Hotch to come over while her parents were away. She may or may not have self sabotaged it to get him over there shirtless in the blazing sun, offering a dip in the pool as repayment, but hinting at more 👁️🫦👁️ i hope that makes sense lol
I LOVE THIS IDEA! thank you bestie <3 get ready to meet the smartest bimbo ever
Uptown Girl
Pairing: dbf!Aaron Hotchner/Reader (gender neutral!)
Word Count: 1695
Warnings: Innuendo, dbf!hotch (reader is an adult), brief mention of reader's parents (vague but they are Rich).
Tagging: @ssamorganhotchner @hotchsdoormat i think you two will like this <3
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You can't hold back a smile as you dial Aaron's number from your parent's house phone. You twirl the cable around your finger as you glance around the freshly cleaned kitchen. There's a chilled bottle of San Pellegrino on the counter, the glass sweating from the heat. It's so quiet that you can hear birds outside, no doubt eating some fallen fruit from the trees outside the kitchen.
"Hello, Aaron Hotchner speaking."
"Hey Aaron Hotchner speaking," you tease. "My car won't start. I know it's your first weekend off for a while, but is there any chance you could come over and help me fix it?"
"Hmm," He says playfully. "And how do I know this isn't some elaborate ploy to spend time with me?"
"Come see for yourself," You reply, smiling. "It just won't start."
"Mhm," He agrees, and you can hear the humour in his tone. "And I suppose you can't just use daddy's Bentley?"
"Daddy doesn't drive a Bentley," You reply seamlessly.
Aaron's stumped for a second, and the line goes silent. "I thought he just bought a new one? A silver Continental?"
"Daddy drives a black Chevy Suburban," You say. (A/N: non-car besties: this is hotch's car <3)
Hotch clears his throat. "Baby, you can't just call me that."
"Aaron, please?" The playfulness has dropped out of your voice. "My car really won't start, and I'm supposed to meet my friend for tennis this afternoon."
"Of course," He replies. "Sorry, I thought you were just trying to convince me to come over."
"Would it be so terrible if I was?"
You feel a pat of guilt seep into your stomach, wondering if Aaron really did have more important things to do than attend to your car trouble.
"No," He adds, quickly. "I'd love to see you. Are you home alone?"
"My parents are in the Seychelles."
"Ah. So not home for dinner, I take it?"
You shake your head out of habit, then say no.
_______
When Aaron's black Chevy pulls up into your driveway, you come out onto the balcony and wave, then rush down the stairs to meet him. Sure enough, he sees your Corvette parked next to your dad's silver Continental.
"So you do have the Bentley," He teases, wrapping his arms loosely around your waist.
You kiss both his cheeks. "It's so good to see you."
"Well, you know why it's been so long," He sighs, caressing your cheek.
You look him over, his casual outfit throwing you off a little: dark blue Lacoste polo, straight-leg jeans, New Balance 574s. It was so different from his typical suit and tie, more dangerous somehow. Where you normally saw yourself as a paramour, sneaking in moments after work with your suit-clad lover, this felt more... ordinary. Like he was picking you up for a day of shopping, or to travel down to the yacht club. Like he might join you for tennis later. You tried to push the thought out of your mind, and to quell the fondness blooming in your chest.
"New York called, and I had to answer," You reply airily. "And you've been busy on cases, so it's not all my fault." You poke him squarely in the chest, and he smiles at the gesture.
"Alright, where's this car trouble you were telling me about?"
You lead him over to the spacious garage.
You slip into the driver's seat and turn the key. The car gives a few revs, then falls back into silence. You do it again for good measure.
"Let me try," Aaron says, leaning through the window.
He reaches into the car, turning the key himself. Sure enough, it doesn't start.
"Does your dad keep a set of car tools around in here somewhere?" He looks around.
You roll your eyes. "I have a set. I might be young and beautiful and wealthy, and young, and wealthy, and beautiful," You emphasize the repeated words, giving him a pointed look. "-but I'm not completely incompetent."
"Of course not, honey," He coos soothingly. "Are they in the back?"
You nod.
He walks around your car, and you watch him go in the side mirror, enjoying your view of his cute little ass in those jeans.
You hear his typical high laughter as he finds the tool set. When he walks around to the driver's side again, you smile innocently.
"What?"
He nods for you to get out, and holds up your tool set.
"The Swarovski crystals are a nice touch," He laughs. "And the pink."
"What? I can't have a cute little tool set to go with my cute little car?"
He rolls his eyes at you, but his grin tells you it's not with any real menace.
You hop out of the car and open the hood, leaning in just enough that you know your shorts will be showing off your assets.
"It's hot," You mention innocuously, and pull off your tank top, tossing it aside without looking back at him.
You hear Hotch take a deep inhale from directly behind you. "It is," he replies.
When you turn around, he's taken his own shirt off. There's just a small patch of chest hair, but the droplets of sweat are just glowing. He's as fit as ever, and you can't help yourself, you reach out and touch his chest.
"What are you doing?" He murmurs. "What about the neighbours?"
You pull away then, and look from side to side. "Aaron, do you seriously think we're close enough to any other houses that anyone will be able to see anything? It's like your place," You say, starting to run your hands down his abdomen. "And I'm sure you remember all of the mischief we..."
"4th of July weekend," He finishes. "I remember."
"You normally don't need much convincing," You say softly. "Is everything okay?"
He nods. "I'm just focused on trying to fix your car so you can go to tennis later. I promise, if we had a bit more time, I'd be all over you."
You smile at that. "Do you have time?"
Aaron leans in and nips at your earlobe. "I would've invited you over today to catch up. I was trying to come up with an excuse," He kisses your neck, "-when you called."
You catch his jaw in your hand and glance at his lips until you're sure he's caught you looking. His lips part, and his breathing turns slow and deep. That's all the encouragement you need, and you kiss him.
Your lips are soft and slow against his own. Immediately, his hands settle on your hips, ever the gentleman, not wanting to go straight for your ass. He does, however, nudge your legs apart so he can slot his thigh between them.
Whining softly, you rub yourself against his thigh.
"Can I be honest?" You gasp as he angles his knee just right, sending hot pleasure through your veins.
"Go ahead," He says coolly.
"I broke the car just so I could watch you come and fix it," You whisper.
Aaron smiles at the fact that you were also trying to come up with some excuse to see him, then his expression lapses into one of sympathy. "Oh, baby. You could've just called. You know I'll come running."
You press your face into his neck, embarrassed by how desperate you were to see him. It wasn't the fact that you wanted him that worried you. Any reasonable person would want him. He was tall, handsome, and had a dick the size of Saturn. No, it was your need that worried you. The deep-seated longing that settled onto you like dust whenever you didn't see him. Sure, you'd been having a great time in New York, meeting people, buying art, hanging out with your best friends, but it was hollow without him. More than once you'd thought of calling him on the hotel phone, letting his deep, calm voice lull you to sleep. You always felt your best when you were around him, like he drew out your best attributes in the same way that a perfect wine would match the meal, note for note.
"You smell so good," You breathe. "I want you all over me."
"We should fix your car first, or call a tow truck. I don't want you to be stranded," He said, stroking your hair.
You shake your head, a small laugh passing your lips.
"It's not that serious. Watch."
You turn your attention to the hood, and after a few minutes, you're in the driver's seat, starting your car as normal.
Aaron quirked his brow at you. "How did you do that?"
"I disconnected the starter relay earlier," You call, then walk back over to Aaron so you can show him. You open the hood again, then show him the plastic box where you can remove the relay from.
"It even has a little diagram showing you how to take it out," You point out, laughing to yourself.
"Right," Aaron replies. "And where exactly would someone like you learn how to do that?"
"Someone like me goes to a lot of parties. Nothing convinces a bunch of wasted rich kids not to drive quite like not being able to start their Lambos."
You can tell the way that Aaron's looking at you, so you don't look over at him.
"Don't do that," You mumble.
"Do what?"
"Look at me like that. Don't give me brownie points just for not being a total asshole."
Aaron sighs lightly. "Okay. But for the record, I think saving lives like that is commendable. Even if they're just 'wasted rich kids'."
"Alright," You say, closing the hood, trying to lighten the mood. "Do you want anything? Lemonade, coke?"
"I'm never sure if you're offering soda or something I could get in trouble for," He teases, catching your hand in his own as he follows you up the stairs to the house.
"Well, I'm sure my dad does have coke in the study, but if you're only looking for trouble," You pause in front of the door, turning around with a wide smile and your arms raised. "I'm right here."
"What about the tennis?" Aaron's already running his hands over your chest, nudging you through the doorway, towards the pool.
You grin. "She'll just have to play singles."
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ddejavvu · 1 year
Note
Hi Mei!
Let me just say you’ve probably seen me liking literally every piece of fluff you’ve ever posted with this man’s name on it in the last few days and I’m obsessed
I might have already missed mvm but otherwise could I ask to see dbf!hotch showing up for you when the actual family in question doesn’t? Like reader is really really excited for an event/milestone and only hotchy knows how much you care and shows up?
Definitely not filling a sick little void in my own life? no?! I would never…. 🙇🏼
ohhhh to be supported by soft dbf!hotch <3
--
The laces of your shoes are twisted, and you're on minute three of trying to straighten them out. They're flat ones, thin, so they flip around and fold themselves this way and that when you loosen them. They look messy when tightened, and you've got nowhere to be anyways, so you sit on the back steps of your dance studio's steps and untwist them.
Your fingernails are already marred from the zipper on the back of your costume dress. Paying hundreds of dollars for an ugly outfit you only wore once on stage for an hour was not worth it, and your nails are starting to break even more against the tightly bound shoes on your feet.
You hear chatter all around, parents congratulating their kids, friends laughing with each other, but your world is silent. It's just the scrape of your fingernails against your laces, and your near-silent breathing.
You hear the scrape of rubber against rock, then a pair of black dress shoes steps into your field of vision.
You look up at whoever's standing by the stairs, ready to dart out of their way, but it's-
"Aaron!" You gush, rocketing to your feet to ram into him in a hug that nearly topples him over, "You're here!"
"I'm here," He laughs, loud and long and deep from his chest, warmth gushing out of the sound and into your chest as he squeezes you tight, "You were amazing!"
"I don't understand," You breathe, pulling back to look at him dazedly, "I didn't invite you. I mean-!" You struggle to right yourself, and his face flushes red as he tries holding in a laugh, eyes scrunched at the edges, "I mean, like, I never gave you a ticket, I- I didn't think you'd want to come. So how did you get in?"
"This is really helpful," He flashes a corner of the black leather case that you know his FBI badge is in, and your heart soars.
"Thank you for coming," You go in for another hug, spotting a group of people behind him, lingering with smiles on their faces and flowers in their hands, "Uh...?"
"My team," He keeps a hand on the small of your back as he leads you to them, where you're bombarded with bouquets, and a hug from a rather bubbly blonde, "I treated everyone to a night off tonight so that we could come and see you perform."
You're hit with a wave of emotion you're not sure you'll ever be able to properly express, probably not without getting a little too in-depth about feelings you'd rather not bring up. You choose instead to revel in the giddiness that comes from Aaron's presence, his team's sweet smiles, and his hand on your back, leading you to a black SUV where you're treated to the passenger's seat.
It means that three grown men have to sit in the middle row, broad shoulders squished against neutral, then skinny ones.
"I used to dance, too," A voice pipes up from the third row, a dark-haired woman in pretty nude lipstick, "But I got in trouble for kicking a kid in the shins, and they threw me out."
You giggle at the image, and the smile she shoots you through the rear-view mirror only makes you more giddy.
"I don't find that too hard to believe," Aaron glances back at her, a similar smile on his face that his team seems just as enamored by as you are, "Why did you kick him?"
"He made fun of my friend," She shrugs, "'Said she looked like a baby deer."
"Because of her legs?" The broad-shouldered man peers back at her, and at her nod of approval, scrunches his face into a grimace, "Man, that's harsh."
"I mean, she did look like a baby deer." The woman confirms, and a slim blonde next to her snorts, "But no one's allowed to say it, you know?"
"Don't kick anyone in the shins," Aaron's hand shoots out to brace on your knee, squeezing softly as he uses a red light to glance over at you warningly, "At your age I think it would be considered assault, and while I would rescue you from prison, I'd prefer not to."
"Don't listen to him, Y/N. Kick mean boys in the shins," The woman pipes up from the back, pretty dark eyes focused on you, "I'll come bail you out, and we can go out for ice cream on the way home from jail."
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ebullientheart · 9 months
Text
blinking. aaron hotchner x reader
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content — fluff. self centred guy. bad date. alcohol mention. fem!reader. requested by @cr1minalskies .
aaron sees you from across the bar, and you are not having a good night.
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it was so rare to end a case on such a high that everyone went out for drinks. often they’d all tag along if it had ended so badly that beer and company were the only solaces, but celebration wasn’t all that common. so, when it rolled around, the team took the opportunity and ran with it.
“hotch!” penelope screamed, startling the man, “are you laughing?”
to everyone’s surprise, including his own, he laughed some more and nodded. derek cheered and then spencer fell over, so he helped emily haul the genius up. suddenly, said boy wonder lit up, “hey, there’s-”
he did not finish the sentence, instead falling over once more, but the team followed his line of sight and saw you in the crowd. due to affiliation with aaron, they all recognised your face, which usually met them with beams and pleasantry. you definitely were not beaming in that moment.
rossi watched the unit chief shift to keep you in his line of sight and stifled a knowing smile, all the while aiding jj in sitting spencer down.
the man you were with, aaron assumed on a date because of your nice dress he knew you bought for those occasions, was talking incessantly. and not in reid’s patented manner of incessant talking, but rather in that of a terrible date. you could not get a word in edgewise, and the heavy set of your brow told aaron all he needed to know about your feelings on that matter.
he practically itched to save you from that dull night, but he looked around at his seasoned squad of profilers and knew it was a bad idea. luckily for you, he decided, with the help of liquid courage, that their scrutiny was worth being subjected to if it could help you out.
putting down his glass a tad too harshly, he easily moved through the throng of people separating you two until he was right at your shoulder, which he placed a warm hand on. you jumped, but immediately eased as you recognised the man behind you. you tilted your head back and smiled, thanks lined on your face.
“hey, what the hell man?”
aaron’s expression must have screamed ‘where did you find this guy?’, because you sighed heavily. he took that to mean ‘on the doorstep of a dog shelter’.
“sweetheart,” the name rolled off his tongue far too easily, “i didn’t know you drank here, or i would’ve called to say i was coming.”
the man spluttered, “excuse me, we’re in the middle of-”
maybe it was the crimson lighting in the bar, but the glare on aaron’s face was so formidable he just stopped talking. you mumbled an apology about cutting the evening short, and looped your arm through aaron’s to make a swift getaway.
as soon as you were out of earshot, you were speeding through gratitude and embarrassment, which your appointed hero just rolled his eyes at, “you’re fine, sweetheart, stop apologising. i really don’t know where you find them though.”
you groaned, “i’m looking too hard, i don’t know.”
“well, maybe just stop looking for someone new.”
his words were loaded with various sentiments, you knew that, though the potenial ramifications wouldn’t hit you until the next morning. in the moment he said it, however, you just gazed at him in an awfully lovestruck way. it was the way he had been gazing at you for months, and not the first time you had reciprocated. but unspoken, always unspoken.
as you made your way over to his group of coworkers, you only briefly registered the shit eating grins on their faces, too busy overthinking aaron’s last words.
rossi breached the moment of silence, clearing his throat and staring at hotch, though he was addressing you, “will you be joining us?”
before you could answer, garcia interjected, also staring at her boss, “why will she be joining us, hotch?”
then her eyes widened comically as she rushed to assure you, “not that we don’t love to see you or anything, you are always free to join us, in fact i’ve been meaning to ring you about baking something sometime, because-”
that conversation, which devolved into talk of different recipes for an assortment of treats, gave aaron a reprise from your attention. he missed it already. morgan handed the man a beer and said, “make uninformed decisions.”
that was the calibre of advice a drunk derek had to offer.
“i think i should get going.” spencer announced, on his fourth, or fifth, trip to the floor.
jj nodded, “i think i should get home now too, will might be waiting up.”
emily gave her intention of helping reid into a cab, and then going home to feed sergio. derek slid away to make contact with a girl he’d been sharing intense eye contact with. rossi declared he was too old for further lateness to bed. garcia stared at you like she had no excuse, and before running off, just blurted, “goodbye!”
it left you with aaron, under the weight of his employees knowing stares even in their absence. he deduced he spent too much time with them before devoting all of his focus to you. to his delight, your face was light again, happy. the talking came easily, flowed. you elicited a genuine smile from him that you thought might be telling of his affection, though you didn’t dare let yourself speculate further.
eventually, the bar closed, and the two of you emerged onto the freezing street hours later. your shiver had you standing as close as you could to him, and he really didn’t think his heart could take it.
“do you want to share a taxi?” he enquired, making to flag one down.
you shook your head, “i was planning on walking, i only live around there.”
you gestured vaguely, and aaron raised an eyebrow, “seriously? alone? do i need to go through my case slides with you again, because i will.”
“no, no, i remember. i was going to call a friend to get me but… you could walk me back?”
try as he might, he could not refute your invitation. while the pair of you walked, he tried to convince himself you’d only asked for the purpose of safety, and he’d only agreed for the same reason. really, he knew you would ask him to walk anywhere with you if it meant more time together, and he would definitely follow.
in the low light, you fumbled with the keys, but eventually unlocked your door. he hesitated to move inside with you at first, but you hadn’t let go of his arm, so he really had little choice.
it wasn’t that he’d never been in your home, but with the circumstances so drastically different, he couldn’t help but profile you from the decor.
“you don’t have to do that,” you nudged him gently, “you know everything there is to know about me. more than my family, more than my friends.”
he barely breathed, “really?”
your answer was unusually reserved, “i’ve never felt like i had to hide when i’ve been with you. i can’t say the same for many others.”
the feeling was mutual, and he didn’t need to say it for you to understand it, which was good because he was convinced his vocal chords had given out on him. there were no words he could muster to tell you how lovely you looked, even tired and vulnerable. especially then.
“it’s late… or rather, early. i understand if you need to be back for jack, but if not, you could stay.” the offer was softly spoken, but confident.
and what he loved about you was that you would understand, you always did. if he had to be a father, or a profiler, before being in your living room, you would never berate him for it. but for once, things had aligned, and his responsibilities diminished temporarily. jack was on a trip for the weekend, and the only texts he had from his coworkers were drunken spams asking him if he was going back to your place.
aaron hoped they wouldn’t get the answer to their questions just by looking at him on monday morning.
“i’d like that.”
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bau-drabbles · 10 months
Note
dbf!hotch having you cockwarm him under his desk… his cock sliding so easily down your throat as you try to take all of him… his pubic hair tickling your nose. you’re so content and happy, until suddenly your dad makes a surprise visit in his office and you go to move but aaron grabs your head and makes you stay there 🤭💞💞🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋
MORGAN pls you're killing me 😭😩🤲 i love your mind 😵‍💫😮‍💨
"just like that, sweetheart" he coos from his chair, his hips gently bucking into your warm mouth and you're all too eager to accommodate more until he's reaching the back of your throat. the sounds he makes are enough for you to rub your thighs together, excitement shooting through your core. his musk is intoxicating, you're drunk on his scent and his taste. before you can come up for air, his office door opens and you squeak slightly your mouth already beginning to retract.
but you can't protest, he's already pushed your head back to it's original place. your eyes are widening, your fingers gripping his thighs but he's so calm. simply subtly comforting you, his hands knotted in your hair sweet as ever
and then it's even worse when you realise who it is, your father of all people.
your hands are gripping the pillow underneath you, trying not to make a sound. your cheeks are burning with embarrassment but your dad hasn't caught on, aaron sounds as collected as ever. as if you weren't currently choking on his cock as quietly as you could manage under his desk.
you even hear the seats opposite his desk being sat on, causing you to breathe a little heavy in impatience. you're pretty sure drool is starting to leak down your chin, your breathing slightly heavier as you grip his thighs urgently. silently begging him to wrap it up before you combust. hotch's voice is slightly strained now as he catches on but he still manages his best poker face, he's stroking your hair, his thumb under your jaw softly massaging the muscle there. his cock was twitching in your mouth and desire how desperately you want to move, his hand is still on the back of your head gentle but firm. thankfully hotch cuts the conversation short, quickly agreeing to the plans your dad has made even if it was the last thing he wanted.
"okay thanks, sunday it is" finally your dad leaves being none the wiser and you push your head away, gasping for air while hotch chuckles softly from his chair. he pulls back, looking at you from under his desk. you look so cute sitting there, he can't help but tease you
"my sweet girl, i thought you could take it??" he feigns concern, pulling you up on his lap. his thumb brushes over your bottom lip, kissing you as you try to regain your breathing again. you want to glare but you can't find it in you to even care, your wet panties testament to how much you secretly enjoyed it.
"i almost choked you know" you chuckle a little, melting under his affection. his big calloused hands running across your thighs, separating your legs as he ghosts his fingers just above your entrance
"don't you worry, i'm gonna train that pretty of yours"
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greg-montgomery · 2 months
Text
sleepover - dbf!hotch x reader
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for @hotchnerholic who requested: your dad went out of town so you’re staying at aaron’s place because you don’t like being alone <3
♡ ♡ ♡ ♡
“Honey?” a warm voice whispered in your ear, and a hand shook your shoulder softly.
Your eyes were way too heavy for you to care, so you buried your head further in the sofa cushions and tried to fall back asleep.
The voice insisted. “Sweetie? Let me take you to bed.”
“Let me take you to bed.”
The Aaron Hotchner just offered to take you to bed and you were sleeping?
Using your hand to cover up a yawn, you opened your eyes and found his beautiful brown ones already looking at you. You blinked at him slowly as if you were a cat trying to communicate that you loved him.
“Are you okay?” he asked, cupping the side of your face. “Your back is gonna hurt in the morning if you spend the night on the couch.”
“Yeah…I…I fell asleep watching TV.”
“It’s admiring that you managed to fall asleep while a thriller is playing,” he joked, and offered you a pretty smile.
You turned your head towards the TV, and caught a glimpse of a guy in a mask sharpening a knife. “Now that is exactly the reason why I didn’t wanna stay home alone.”
Aaron chuckled and placed his hand on top of yours. “You’re safe here.”
It was hard to ignore the butterflies in your stomach when he was this close to you, so you tried to change the subject.
“I fell asleep while watching Shrek. I guess the thriller started after that.”
“Hm…You wanna watch it with me? Or do you wanna go to bed?”
Yes to the bed option, but only if it’s with you, you thought. But you knew that wasn’t going to happen so watching a movie with him was the next best thing.
“Sure, let’s watch it.” You smiled, and he smiled back. “Only, I’m warning you, I get scared very easily.”
“You don’t say.”
“Don’t make fun.” You pointed at his face.
“I would never,” he said, and leaned back on the couch stretching out his arm.
The space next to him looked so inviting. You could just curl up in his arms and not worry about anything else.
The fact that you were staying at his house was heavenly in the first place. But watching a movie with him? That was beyond your wildest dreams. You expected him to be gone all day at work. This? This felt like staying over at your boyfriend’s house and having a movie night with him.
“Wait,” he said, interrupting your thoughts. “I have popcorn.”
“Oh…yes please!”
You followed him to the kitchen, and observed him while he was filling a big bowl with popcorn.
His jacket and tie were off, and his sleeves were rolled up just enough for his forearms to drive you crazy. A man his age shouldn’t get this type of reactions from you, but he did anyway. As your father’s best friend he was forbidden fruit, but that didn’t mean you weren’t allowed to want him in secret.
“How was work?”
“Could’ve been better,” he sighed. And then he looked at you with a grin that made him more irresistible than you could’ve ever imagined. “But I have you here so it’s not too bad.”
What was breathing? “Thank you for letting me stay.”
“Thank you for trusting me to keep you safe,” he said, and signaled you with a head movement to follow him back to the living room.
“I mean…you’re an FBI agent. Who would have been better for the job?”
“Right,” he laughed.
The movie had started for a while now, so it was hard to follow the plot. Not that you necessarily cared about it – the only thing that was occupying your head the entire time was Aaron sitting next to you, his cologne, and how your fingers brushed a couple of times while you were getting popcorn.
Zoned out as you were, a loud sound coming from the movie made your heart almost stop and you hid behind your hands with a squeal. “Shit!”
Things only got worse, as the killer on the screen seemed to be unstoppable, chasing one character after the other. You curled up in the corner of the couch, grabbing a cushion to protect yourself.
“Hey…” Aaron said, looking certainly amused. “Come here.”
Careful not to look too eager, you went close to him and let yourself into his embrace. His arm rested around your shoulders, and he pulled you in close enough for your head to rest against his.
“Better now?”
“Mhm…” you could only say, as your heart was ready to jump out of your chest.
“Relax,” he whispered in your ear. “I won’t let him get to you.”
“Promise?” you whispered back and looked up at him.
“Promise,” he said and kissed your forehead.
part 2
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ihavemanyhusbands · 1 year
Note
🐶
i need some smutty hotch in my life pls baby<3<3
Siii riquiiiii
(Everyone depicted is over 18)
——
As soon as you opened the door to reveal Aaron, you lunged forward to grasp him by the collar of his linen shirt.
“Ven acá,” you said as you pulled him towards you, crushing your lips to his.
He let out a surprised chuckle, immediately kissing you back. His large hands cupped your face as you continued pulling him backward, until the back of your legs reached the bed.
Outside, you could hear the dull roar of the ocean and the call of the seagulls. Sunshine streamed into the air-conditioned room, accompanied by a salty breeze. It was all enticing, but the man you were kissing was far more so.
Usually, you spent most of the summer at the beach with your family, far away from the city and your secret boyfriend. It was nice to unwind and soak up some sun — you knew that the tan lines you returned with always drove Aaron absolutely wild — but you still missed him terribly.
This year, to your incredible delight, he had finally accepted the invitation to join you on vacation. And of course, you intended to savor every minute of it.
“You know, we’re expected for lunch downstairs,” he said between kisses, your hands now roaming up his chest beneath his shirt.
“Yeah, well, I thought we might skip to dessert first,” you purred. “Plus, we haven’t broken this room in yet, so…”
“Chiquita, it’s only our first day here. We have plenty of time.”
“Plenty of time and plenty more places for us to sneak off to,” you smirked, pulling back only to undo the straps of your colorful bikini top. “We’re just starting our vacation the right way.”
You knew you had him when he couldn’t tear his eyes away from your chest, letting out a slow breath. You undid the buttons of his shirt and leaned forward to kiss his his collarbone.
Gently, he pulled you back a little by the hair so he could look into your eyes. He was smirking deviously now, hunger in his gaze.
“Why don’t we get out on that balcony? I want us to have a nice view of the ocean while I fuck you.”
———
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ssahotchnerr · 1 year
Note
Dbf!Hotch giving reader a massage and it gets very spicyyyy?(very smutty lmao) This is something I've been wanting a fic about for so long now😩😩. I love your writing btw!!
tension relief
cw; dbf!hotch and fem!reader, age gap, smut- unprotected sex, p in v, praise,
minors dni, wc: 1.2k
all characters within this are 18+
you frustratedly let out a sigh, rolling your neck slightly which resulted in a light crack.
you've been at it for a few hours now- the never-ending assignment it seemed. aaron always had an open invitation for you to come over, which you used to your advantage as much as possible. with both of your tedious schedules, and the sneaking around your parents, alone time was far fetched and in-between. so the second your night class let out for the night, you had hightailed it to his apartment.
you had schoolwork, he had his files, but the close proximity was more than you could ask for.
finally, aaron joined you in the living room. standing behind the chair you were occupying, he leaned down, resting his chin on your shoulder.
"come to bed angel." he murmured, turning his head to nip at your neck.
"i can't." you huffed out, your eyes locked on the screen in front of you. "i have to get this finished or else my professor will be on my ass."
"a break, then?" he continued to nuzzle his face into your neck, making a very good play at being distracting. "i'll give you a massage."
you craned your neck slightly, meeting his eyes. "you will?"
aaron nodded, kissing your lips now that he had the access. "you're tense." to prove his point, he brought his hands to your neck, kneading it. "can't you feel that?"
the pronounced knot in your shoulders rolled at the movements of his thumbs, causing a groan to escape your lips. it hurt, but the good kind; the tension seemingly lessening even at the short and minuscule attempt.
he placed a kiss on your shoulder, eyebrows raised knowingly. "so?"
you gave in. "please."
he offered you a hand, pulling you to your feet and guiding you down the hall to his bedroom. "shirt off and lay down for me sweetheart."
never one to hesitate, you followed his instructions, pulling your shirt over your head and tossing it off to the side. you crawled onto his bed, laying stomach down, your hands nestled under your head.
aaron followed, straddling your thighs as he settled on top of you. he brushed away the hair splayed on your backside, his fingers trailing along your skin lightly. it started from your neck, down to your shoulders blades, and further down. he repeated the action a few times, simply enjoying the way your skin felt underneath him.
his fingertips traced downward to your bra, tapping on the the clasp gently before his fingers skimmed where the fabric met your back. "can i?"
after receiving the go ahead from you, he unhooked your bra, prompting you to lift an inch or two to slide the straps down your arms, mindlessly throwing it somewhere into his room afterward.
once your back was bare, a breath escaped him. "alright baby, i'm going to make you feel good. focus on me."
just as before, his hands found placement underneath the base of your neck, applying harsh pressure, but not enough to where it would actually be painful. he started there, gradually moving down your spine. he was consistent, his gentle touch gracing the surface of your skin and the muscles underneath. it didn't take long for the tension constrained in you to melt away, soft groans and his name falling from you.
"how's that feel?"
"amazing." you answered, your eyes closed as you thoroughly enjoyed the release of pressure and the weight of him covering you.
kisses began to follow his hands, his lips trailing downward along your backside. as if his previous touch hadn't already caused your body to light on fire, you were fully warm now. want was etched in your belly, and from the sight of you underneath him, and all the noises leaving your mouth, aaron was duly hard.
the massage was entirely foreplay, it was only a matter of time before one couldn't resist the other. you arched your back, attempting to quicken his agenda.
he chucked softly, placing open mouth kisses against your skin. "patience, sweetheart. i'm getting there."
true to his word, his featherlight touch continued to make patterns along the surface of your skin, arriving at the hem of your panties. he skillfully pulled them down your legs, exhaling at the sight of you.
"please." you whined, his hands cupping your ass, thumbs grazing the skin. you were nearly trembling with want, your arousal already dripping into his sheets.
aaron rid himself of his clothes, and while you attempted to turn to view him in his naked glory, however, he had other plans. he grabbed ahold of your hips, holding you in place.
"i think i'll keep you right here." he smirked, his tip teasingly running along your slick folds.
he entered you easily, a moan escaping your lips. he skillfully rocked into you a bit more with each thrust, nearly bringing your bottom half off his bed as result of his impeding force.
"fuck." you breathed out, eyes squeezing shut in pleasure. the feeling of him inside you always felt brand new, no matter how many times you found yourself at his mercy. you were his perfect fit.
a moan came deep from aaron as well, his hands tightening their harsh hold on your hips. imprints of his fingers would surely bruise into your skin, and they were not unwelcome in the slightest. he leaned forward, his lips ever so brushing your shoulder blades. "you take me so well, you always have."
"more," you whimpered, the slick sounds of him driving into you filling the room. you wished you were laid on your back so you were able to view him- his pleasure struck face, the way his head always fell back as your walls gripped his cock, the place were the two of you met. "harder, please."
with another push, he bottomed out, hitting that place deep in you which made your toes curl. you reached back, finding his hand. he interlocked your fingers, bending your arm behind your back. this allowed him to drive into you with even more force, the extra support aiding.
his name escaped your lips, and you could feel the familiar coil within you daring to snap. without a second thought, you let go. tension had filled you the whole night, and you were desperate for release. you couldn't help but indulge in it the second it was present.
aaron continued his merciless actions, chasing his own high. his hips rolled into yours, his eyes trained on where he penetrated your core. the wave of his own orgasm shocked your body into another, whimpers and his name leaving you as you thrashed underneath him.
exhaling a breath, aaron collapsed next to you. his cock softened within you, but he didn't dare to leave you just yet. the feeling of the two of you connected, was something he wanted to savor as much as possible. likewise, you wanted to relish in the fullness, feeling complete and as if the two of you were one.
his hand inched forward to your abdomen, fingers leisurely wandering down to your core. "how's that tension now?" he whispered, his lips meandering from behind your ear to your jaw.
you laughed softly, affection building within your chest. in his arms, you felt nothing less than endlessly loved. "completely gone, and i have you to thank for that."
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show-your-fangs · 10 months
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We Shouldn't (And Yet We Do) Masterlist
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A DBF!Hotch x Reader series
You met Mr. Hotchner two summers ago when he started teaching part time at the college your father taught at. The two of them had become fast friends and in the months that followed while you waited out the summer to start classes you babysat Jack while he was away on cases. Now, after two years away at college and your silly crush on the man only growing, you find yourself pulled right into him like a tidal wave to shore.
Swimming Pool - You return home for the summer because of your parents’ drama but luckily for you, your father’s friend, Mr. Hotchner, is there to bring you some much needed comfort. 
Guest Lecturer - coming soon
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whiskey-bumblebee · 1 year
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I'm On Fire
Pairing: DBF!Aaron Hotchner/Reader (gender neutral, I think!)
Word Count: 2730
A/N: I got towards the end and realized there was way too much I wanted to pack in here, so I think I'm going to do a part 2! Let me know if you'd be interested! <3
Warnings: older Hotch/younger reader, a brief scene of hotch getting off on his own, inappropriate relationships <3 I think that's it?
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Your soaked clothes cling to your body as you stand in the pouring rain. Cars pass you, occasionally honking, leaving you sighing. Your dad was meant to pick you up from practice half an hour ago.
A familiar car nears the curb where you're standing, and you squint into the headlights, holding up your hand to block out some of the brightness.
Great, you think. Now I'm going to get kidnapped.
The car pulls over, and you take a step back. The window rolls down and you're met with a familiar face, leaning over the passenger seat.
"Get in," He calls.
Mr. Hotchner. Aaron.
You hesitate for a moment, looking around. It's dark. For all you know, your dad isn't coming at all.
You sigh and open the door, taking a seat. You're completely soaked, and you cringe at the way the rain drips onto the leather upholstery. You drop your bag in the footwell.
"I'm sorry," You say before anything else. "I'll get you a towel as soon as we're at my place."
Mr. Hotchner doesn't react, looking you over carefully. "Are you okay? It's freezing out there."
You nod. "I'm okay. My dad was..."
"Late," He finishes, his jaw clenching as he flicks the indicator on.
"Have you heard from him?" You say hopefully.
He shakes his head as he merges seamlessly into the traffic.
"Home?" He asks.
You nod. "Thank you, Mr. Hotchner."
"Aaron," He corrects, a slight sharp edge to his voice. "I've told you that you can call me Aaron."
You wrap your arms around yourself, the cold suddenly hitting you now that you're not able to walk around to keep yourself warm.
"Fuck," You murmur under your breath.
Aaron looks you over again. "Bad, huh?"
You will yourself to stop shivering. Fucking embarrassing, being soaking wet and now you're shivering like a dog. Pull yourself together.
You shrug. "Was out there for about half an hour."
"Half an-" He glances at you quickly, then back at the road. "Where's your dad?"
"Probably with his new girlfriend. He's not home much."
You glance at his wedding ring. For a moment, you wish that your dad was more like Mr. Hotchner. Dedicated, loyal. Reliable.
"How's Mrs. Hotchner?"
He clears his throat. "She's alright."
You look at him, the way his grip has tightened on the wheel, his brow furrowing, his shoulders closer to his ears.
"You're lying," You say softly. "You can talk about it, if you want."
He shakes his head. "Don't worry about it. We all have our things," He looks over at you, putting on a smile. "Right?"
You nod. "Right."
A while later, you arrive in front of your house. Aaron waits out front for you to let yourself in. You walk in, and he realizes that all of the lights are off. He waits in the driver's seat, feeling that something's wrong. Sure enough, you walk back out, looking at him sheepishly. He gestures for you to come back out to the car.
"This is awkward, but my dad's not home and there's nothing in the fridge. Could you take me to a drive through?"
He looks at you for a moment.
"Do you want to come to mine? I don't like the idea of you being home all by yourself. It's late."
It's your turn to look at him, trying to find the right way to phrase it.
"I'm not sure Mrs. Hotchner would understand..." You start, and he sighs, but nods. You're right.
The rain is still pouring down, so he gestures for you to get into the car. He presses a few buttons on his phone and you press your lips together.
"Hi, honey," He greets his wife. You look at his ring again. His wife.
"I was just driving home and I got a call from Gideon. He wants us back at the office to start on another case," He explains, turning his head away from yours.
You feel your heart beat faster. Why? Stop. Stop that.
"I'm sorry," He says, and there's real guilt in his voice. You chew your lip. He's lying for you. You almost interrupt to tell him to stop. You'll be fine. But then he's staring at the phone and the car falls into silence. She hung up on him.
"What do you feel like?" He says, and you can tell he's trying to sound upbeat.
"Maybe Mexican?"
He nods. "I know a place."
In all honesty, you'd been expecting him to take you to a Chipotle, or a Taco Bell, something quick and easy, then drop you home again. Instead, you find yourself outside a food truck, where Mr. Hotchner greets the owners by name.
"I forget, are you vegetarian? Is this okay?"
He points at an item on the menu and you nod enthusiastically. It sounds delicious.
While he's ordering, a drunk man lurches towards you. Without thinking, you grab onto Aaron's arm, pressing your body against his. He reacts immediately, pulling you closer.
"Hey," He says authoritatively, and his face sets into a stern look that you've never seen before. He looks lethal. The guy holds up his hands and walks away. You relax, taking a step back.
Aaron pays, and the two of you walk back to his car.
"You okay?" He asks, opening your car door for you.
You nod and slip into the car. He walks around the front of the car, glancing over his shoulder.
He places the food on your lap and starts driving again.
"I don't think..." He clears his throat. "I don't think I should wait for your dad at your place."
You look at him for a moment, trying to understand where his discomfort is stemming from. You're both adults. Yes, he was friends with your dad, but you knew each other well. You'd seen him around often, and spent time alone occasionally. Once or twice he'd driven you home, although those times were planned, not spur of the moment like this was.
"I think I need to change," You say slowly, trying to find a solution before you finish your sentence. "It's really cold."
"Oh, I..." He glances in the backseat quickly. "I have some clothes in the back?"
You nod. "Okay."
You unclip your seatbelt and slip into the back seats as Aaron drives down the highway. He tries to protest, but you're gone before he can get a word out.
"Where are you going?" You ask, eyeing him in the rearview. He keeps his gaze contained to the strip of glass, where he can see your eyes and little else.
"Oh." He looks at the signs hanging over the highway. "Home, I guess. I wasn't thinking."
You duck for a moment, pulling his shirt over your head. For a moment, you fumble with a few of the tiny buttons, doing most of them up.
"Do you want to drive for a while? We could wait until we hear from him?"
"Sure," You reply, touching your hair to see how damp it still is. It feels cool to the touch, but you'll shower in the morning, reset it from the unexpected 'wash'.
In the end it's 3am when your dad texts you back. He apologizes and says he'll be home around lunch. Aaron rolls his eyes when he thinks you're not looking, but you notice.
At some point after that, you must have fallen asleep, because you notice that Aaron has draped his blazer over you, and you have a definite stiffness on one side of your neck from where you'd rested it against the window.
You swear you hear seagulls, and you look around.
"Where are we?" You say, looking out over the water.
"Delaware," He replies, a hint of humour in his voice. "Rehoboth Beach."
"Don't you have work?" You yawn.
"Don't you?" He teases.
You shake your head. "Day off."
"I just kept driving, thought it's been a while since I'd seen the ocean."
You nod, and continue to watch the sunrise over the ocean.
He could retire here, he thinks. The charming seaside houses and hotels, the boardwalk, the sand dunes, the purplish blue of the ocean in this light. It's a beautiful place. The seagulls provide a soundscape unlike any other he's heard. It reminds him of Seattle, in a way, but fresher. The local coffee shop towards the end of the street, the lone jogger taking a quick run before work.
"How about a swim before we head home?"
"Are you kidding?" He says, voice taking on a higher tone as he responds to what he assumes is a joke.
"We came all this way," You shrug. "Seems like a waste not to."
"I don't have a swimsuit with me."
You gesture out at the empty beach. "I don't think anyone will mind."
He shakes his head. "That's..."
"Be crazy," You say, grasping his hand in both of yours. "You just drove to Delaware instead of going home. Something tells me you need some crazy."
He looks at you, dead serious for a moment. You know you've hit the nail on the head. He pulls his hand back from yours, but nods.
"Alright. Last one to get in buys coffee."
"Deal," You grin. Immediately, you tug off your (his) joggers and open the car door, racing to the shoreline.
"No fair!" He calls out. "I'm in a suit!"
He hears your radiant laugh carried back to him on the surprisingly warm breeze, and you look back at him, smiling widely, hair tousled by the wind. He wishes he had a camera.
He takes off his pants slowly, and the same for his shirt and undershirt. He leaves them folded on the driver's seat and tucks the keys in the nook just above one of the wheels.
"I hope you know my coffee order," You tease, sending a wave of water at him as he finally joins you.
His white button up has gone completely transparent in the water, and he thinks you look like a goddess in it. He tries not to look, but he notices your nipples showing through it. Your wet hair emphasizes your facial features, drawing emphasis to the planes of your face, and he thinks he could watch you all day long, the golden tones of the sunrise lighting you like some wondrous painting.
You lie back in the water, letting yourself float. For a precious, fleeting moment, your worries melt away into the water. Your absent father, your uncertain future... In this moment, with the sun on your face and the smell of salt in your nose, you couldn't be happier.
When you open your eyes and find your footing in the sand again, you see that Aaron is doing just the same; laying back and floating with his eyes closed. For a moment you think of kissing him, and take a step closer. Just as you do, he opens his eyes and stands up.
"You're right," He says, and you look at him questioningly. "I needed this."
You nod, then run your hand over your arms. They're decidedly chilly.
"Home?"
He nods. "On the way, you can tell me your coffee order."
It's all explained away easily enough, and what can't be explained can be cleaned or hidden.
You: a "friend" ended up picking you up and driving you to pick up some Mexican food, hence the leftovers. The white button up is tucked away in the back of your closet, rinsed in the bathroom sink so nobody noticed it in the laundry basket. You were home and in bed by the time your dad made it back home.
Him: the "case" ended up being a dud, but unfortunately Aaron had been halfway through the paperwork when they found out. He pays for the 24 hour car wash in cash, vacuuming the sand out of every crevice. He was starving, so he picked up some takeout on the way home, which is why the car smells like food.
It's almost too easy to slip into your new life of 'crime'. The lies come too quickly, fresh secrets blossoming in clandestine gardens.
It's 2 am when Aaron wakes up, drenched in sweat, with a pounding headache. He's so warm he thinks he must be running a fever, but when he checks with the thermometer, he sees that he isn't. He uses a cool washcloth to wipe down his face.
When he walks back into his bedroom and sees Haley lying there in the dark, he tries not to wish it was you instead. He tries to erase the images his mind had spun in the silver threads of a dream, the way your mouth had dropped open so prettily for him as he eased into you. He tries. He really does.
He scrawls a note to Haley on the notepad on his bedside table, slipping it onto her bedside table so she'll see it when she wakes up.
Didn't sleep well. I'll call in sick when I wake up.
Around 9, he wakes, panicking at first when he sees the time, then remembering he was planning to phone it in. He sees a note on his bedside table, folded into quarters. He'll read it in a while, he thinks. Haley's gone off to work by now.
When he closes his eyes, the images he'd earnestly tried to erase last night came pouring back. You were under him, in his shirt, looking up at him with your trademark smile, ready to burst with a witty comment or bubble of laughter.
He squeezes his eyes shut again. No. This is bad. Your friend's daughter. She's half your age.
It's just a thought. She never needs to know. You're not really doing anything, let alone anything wrong.
He slips his left hand into the front of his joggers, palming himself, surprised that he's already half hard. For a moment, he runs his other hand over his chest, his stomach, then reaching down, stroking his upper thighs, cupping his balls.
It only takes a moment of remembering you on the beach to make up his mind, and he starts fucking his fist, gritting his teeth. It'll be quick and dirty. Just to get it out of the way. Then he'll be over it.
He comes, hot and wet over his fist and his stomach, and he groans softly. He wipes his hand on his skin and reaches for his phone. He feels like he's at law school again; this messy barely-a-man, jerking off, calling in sick to work, ignoring his responsibilities for one day of peace.
"Gideon," He says. "I know, I know. I'm fine. I won't be coming in today."
He glances down at his stomach, still coated in come. He thinks about how your stomach would look... Shower.
"Tomorrow," He says quickly, not fully sure if he's answering the question. "It's a personal day, I'm not sick."
He hangs up without listening to the rest. He doesn't want to know the case details, the people he's neglecting by not showing up.
When he puts the phone back on his nightstand, he remembers the note, and picks it up, expecting to be greeted with some vague sentence of marital pleasantries.
Aaron. This isn't working. I'm not sure what else I'm supposed to say. I want a divorce, is that it? I want more, Aaron. I want the man who promised to love me on my best and worst days. I want a baby. I'm going to stay with my sister. Next time you're out of town on a case, message me so I can come get my things. I don't care about the house or the money. I can't do this anymore.
Before he knows it, he's at Rehoboth Beach. He looks out at the water and he's not sure what to do. He rests his head on the steering wheel, then realizes it's incredibly painful to bend down so low, and glances at the boardwalk. The town is shabby-looking, the paint peeling from the sea air. The coffee shop is shuttered, a 'for lease' sign in the window. The jogger's face is heavy, exhausted. There's debris in the dunes, the remnants of a night of teenage drinking, he's sure. The light of the sun on the ocean is too harsh.
Worst of all, his passenger seat is empty.
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ddejavvu · 1 year
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dbf!hotch completely ruining you in your room in secret from your parents 😩 you tell him that you’ve always wanted him to be your first…this is a dream coming true for you 🥰
today is multiverse monday! send me an au you can think of :)
this post is 18+ (and so are its characters), minors dni.
This is not what you had in mind for your vacation. Hell, you certainly don't mind it, Aaron's large, calloused hand clamped down over your mouth, his hips slowly rolling into your own, his breath fanning hot over your neck.
“Aaron,” you gasp, but it comes out muffled against his hand, “Aaron- aah!”
His cock slips deeper inside of you than you thought it could go, pressing flush with a spot that has you mewling uncontrollably. He’s quick to press kisses to the soft, flushed skin of your neck, murmuring a soft, ‘quiet, sweetheart’ against your reddening complexion.
“I can’t,” you whimper, pathetic as you blink desperately up at him. The palm of his hand mottles your words, but he hears them all the same. He just hopes your parents don’t, which is why he’s shushing you in the first place.
“You have to be,” he croons quietly, slowly slipping his hand off of your mouth to kiss it. His tongue brushes sweet and slow over the underside of your top lip, leaving a dewy residue as he pulls away, “No one can know about this.”
“But- but I’ve wanted this for so long,” you confess, seeing stars as you feel the pressure of his broad chest against yours, his barred by a layer of dark, wiry hair.
“Yeah?” His eyebrows lift, keeping his tone low so that you do the same, “How long, sweetheart?”
“Since- aah!” Another prod of his cock against your walls, “Since our first vacation!”
“Three years ago,” he chuckles fondly at the memory of the first ever vacation you’d taken together, joining families, or inviting Hotch to your own. “That’s a long time to wait.”
“It was torture,” you gush, hips lifting as he maintains perfect speed, “I- I can’t believe it took me this long to make a move.”
“Me either,” he admits, something mournful in his tone at the time you’ve lost, “But we’re here now, aren’t we? We’ll make it count, sweetheart, let’s make up for lost time.”
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