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fatecantstopme · 1 year

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Never Do That Again

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x reader

Summary: The team is in a tiny town, a town so small that there is only one tiny hotel. What happens when you end up having to share a small room with your boss for a week straight?

Warnings: Angst. Some fluffy fluff. Mentions of death. Suicide. SMUT, oral (F receiving), unprotected sex (P in V). Use of pet names. Swearing.

"Dear God, I'm exhausted," you mumbled as you walked into the little hotel.

"I'm just looking forward to a hot shower," Morgan said from behind you.

"So are we. You smell terrible," Emily teased.

"Shut up."

You all chuckled as you reached the front desk.

"Good evening," the woman at the desk said. "How can I help you?"

"Hi there," you said with a smile as you were the first person to reach the desk. "We're in need of a few rooms."

"Okay, dear. We have one single and three doubles available."

Before anyone else could say anything, Rossi stepped forward and said, "I'll take the single."

The lady handed him the key and he waved to you all as he headed towards the elevator.

"Are you kidding me?" you grumbled.

"Reid and I will bunk together," Morgan said, taking another key from the desk.

You were about to ask JJ to room with you, but she snatched up a key and said, "Emily and I will take a room."

You gave her a look that she pretended not to see.

Hotch sighed heavily and reached for the last key. "I guess that means it's you and me, (Y/L/N)."

You deepened the glare on your face as you looked at JJ. She smiled at you knowingly and you felt the strong urge to smack her. Instead, you simply said, "Guess so, boss."

Everyone moved towards the elevators as a group, but you grabbed JJ's arm and pulled her back to you. "You did that on purpose," you hissed.

"Of course I did."

"J--what the hell am I supposed to do?"

"Now's your chance, (Y/N/N). Time to find out if he wants you as badly as I think he does."

"Or I'm just horny and sleep-deprived for however long we're stuck here," you grumbled.

"I doubt it."

She practically dragged you into the elevator with her and you both fell silent. JJ was the only person you'd ever admitted your feelings to about your boss. She was your best friend and you trusted her implicitly.

When you first told her you liked Hotch, she started paying more attention to how he acted around you. By this point, she was convinced he was into you--like really into you. You weren't so sure. Hotch was always so professional...you couldn't imagine a situation where he would break the rules so blatantly.

The hotel was small, only 8 rooms in total, four on the second floor and four on the third. JJ and Emily's room was on the second, as was yours and Hotch's, meanwhile, Rossi's room and Reid and Morgan's was on the third floor.

Hotch unlocked the door and waited for you to enter before bidding goodnight to JJ and Emily and shutting the door. You managed one last glare in JJ's direction before the door shut, but she shot you a wink and ducked into her own room.

When you turned around and got a full view of the room, you realized just how tiny it was. The two beds were so close together they were almost touching and the only other pieces of furniture in the room were a single nightstand and a small loveseat.

"Well this is...quaint," you managed.

Hotch laughed lightly. "That's one word for it." He tossed his duffle onto the bed closest to the door. "I'll take this one if that's okay with you?"

You nodded and walked over to the other bed and sat down on the edge of it. "You wanna shower first? I'll take longer."

"Sure, thanks." He grabbed what he would need and went into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.

You gave yourself a little slap on the face to try and snap yourself out it. Your brain was betraying you as it often did in situations like this. First, you imagined what he would look like without his clothes, then your mind wandered to taking a shower with him, then to being underneath him on the bed. "Shit, (Y/N)," you said to yourself. "Snap out of it."

You laid back on the bed and stared up at the ceiling, waiting for Hotch to come out of the bathroom. You tried to think about literally anything else, but your mind kept traveling back to your boss--as it often did these days.

You knew it was dangerous to let yourself think about him or imagine anything with him. He was beyond off-limits. You couldn't deny the sexual attraction you felt, nor the spark of real attraction, but you sure as hell couldn't act on it. It could destroy both of your lives.

"Uhh...(Y/N)?" Hotch said a little louder. The way he spoke told you it wasn't the first time he'd said your name.

"Sorry--I was lost in thought," you said as you sat up. You were completely unprepared for the sight of him post-shower, his hair was damp and tousled, and he wore nothing but a t-shirt and boxers.

You must have been staring a little too long because he cleared his throat. "Your turn."

"Oh, yeah--right." You stumbled to the bathroom, feeling like a complete idiot. You made fast work of your shower and nighttime routine.

You started digging through your bag trying to find your pjs as the panic started to rise in you. "Fuck," you muttered. "Fuck, shit, fuck!"

"Everything okay in there?" Hotch called.

"Yeah," you called back. "I just--shit--I forgot my pajamas."

"Oh...umm--do you need anything?"

You groaned as you realized all you had was a tank top. "Not to be awkward or anything, but do you maybe have pants?"

He chuckled lightly and you heard him rustle through his bag. "I have a pair of sweats. Will that work?"

Oh, thank god. "Yes! Thank you so much."

You opened the door just enough for him to slide the pants through the crack. You grabbed them gratefully and pulled them on quickly. As expected, they were massive on you. He was broader and taller than you, the sweats making you look like you were a child trying on your father's clothes.

You walked out of the bathroom, holding tightly to the waistband of the pants. "They're slightly big on me," you said lightly.

Hotch looked over at you and froze. His eyes trailed over your body slowly and you felt incredibly exposed under his gaze.

"The uh--the tank was all I had," you mumbled as you climbed into your bed.

Hotch seemed to realize he'd been staring awkwardly and his gaze quickly averted. "Don't worry about it. You can wear whatever you want to bed."

You chuckled. "Thank you?"

He groaned. "Sorry, that came out weird."

"It's okay." You laid down on your bed and sighed. "These beds are tiny."

He laughed. "You're telling me. I've never felt so large in my life."

You looked over at him and giggled. "You look like you're sleeping in a child's bed."

He groaned. "I feel like I'm sleeping in a child's bed. There is no way this is going to be comfortable."

"What size are these beds, anyway?"

"I don't think they even make beds like this. They're slightly larger than a twin, but smaller than a full."

You sighed. "They had them specially made for this tiny room."

He chuckled. "Probably."

You curled up under your covers and settled in for the night, exhaustion finally overwhelming your body. "Could you get the light?"

"Of course." He reached over and turned off the lamp. "Goodnight, (Y/N)."

"Goodnight, Hotch."

**********

"How'd you sleep?" you asked the next morning.

"Terribly," Hotch admitted.

"Me too, honestly."

"It's the tiny bed."

You sighed. "Hopefully we'll only be here a day or two."

The whole team worked hard all day, doing their best to catch the latest unsub. You finally decided to call it a night around 7.

"Let's get dinner and head back to the hotel," Hotch said.

Everyone agreed and you headed to the local diner, one of the only places to get food in this town.

You slid into the booth on the side facing the door, as you always did, and to your surprise, Hotch slid in next to you. JJ was sitting across from you and she smirked slightly when she saw Hotch sit down.

You gave her a 'shut it' look and she just chuckled.

Throughout dinner, Hotch's leg brushed against yours several times and his proximity had you distracted. You could smell his cologne and it made you lightheaded. It was almost embarrassing. When his leg would brush yours, your entire body froze and you found it difficult to breathe.

You were beyond grateful for dinner to be over and to head back to the hotel. But even there you couldn't escape him because you were sharing a damn room. FML.

When you walked back into the hotel room and stared at the tiny beds you groaned audibly.

Hotch followed your gaze and chuckled. "Yeah, not looking forward to that either."

Suddenly, an idea popped into your head and before you could think better of it, you spit said idea out. "Hey, what if we push the beds together to make one big bed?"

Hotch froze. "What?"

"I mean, at least then it'd be like a normal sized bed and maybe then we could get some sleep."

He just stared at you in silence and you quickly realized what you had just suggested.

"Or, not--just kidding. That was a terrible idea."

"No, no--actually, that's not a bad idea," he said.

"Wait, really?"

"Yeah! I mean, at least that way we both have a higher chance of actually getting some sleep."

"Okay, cool."

The two of you set to work on moving the nightstand out of the way and pushing the two beds together. It actually did seem to be make sense, at least visually. Hopefully it made sleeping a little more pleasant tonight as well.

"Much better," you said softly as you patted your side of the bed. "Just don't roll me off the bed in the middle of the night."

He laughed. "No promises."

Just like the night before, Hotch showered first, then it was your turn. When you came back out, he was already laying in the bed with his eyes closed.

You moved slowly and lightly, just in case he was asleep. When you crawled into the bed, you noticed the way he was breathing and you couldn't help but smile. He was fast asleep, all the worry lines that normally lived on his face were gone, and you couldn't help but think he looked incredibly peaceful.

You smiled again as you reached across him to turn off the lamp before getting comfortable on your side of the bed. "Goodnight, Hotch," you whispered.

**********

The next day was almost identical to the day before. Work all day, eat dinner, shower, go to sleep.

It was day number four when things finally started to pick up. It was an extremely long day, but the team had successfully identified the unsub. Now it was just a matter of finding him.

Day five was an absolute shitshow. One of the locals had messed up and spoiled the team's chance of catching the unsub. You'd been on a wild goose chase for most of the day and Hotch was in an absolutely foul mood by the time you made it back to the hotel.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" you asked quietly as the two of you sat upright in bed.

"No."

"Okay."

You both sat in silence for several minutes--the heaviest silence you'd ever felt.

"I don't like feeling powerless," Hotch said suddenly.

You turned to look at him in surprise. "No one does."

He shook his head. "It's worse for me. I'm in charge--I'm supposed to be the leader. If I have no control, then what are we supposed to do?"

"It might help to remember you're not alone."

He looked over at you. "I feel alone."

"You're not. You have us," you insisted.

"I shouldn't be burdening any of you with my troubles."

"It's not a burden. We're your family, Hotch. It's what we're there for."

He fell silent again, but it was much less tense than before. After a few minutes, he spoke again. "Can I tell you something?"

"Of course."

"And you won't judge me?"

"I would never judge you," you said honestly.

"Sometimes I lay in bed at night filled with nothing but fear and regret. It's so crippling I can barely move. This case is getting to me, and I--I feel that fear. Every worst case scenario runs through my mind and I feel like I'm drowning."

Instinct takes over and you reach to grab his hand. He tenses, but he doesn't pull away. "I'll be your life-raft," you murmured.

He looked up at you with emotion-filled eyes. You weren't used to seeing anything other than the most stoic expressions on his face and it shocked you beyond belief. But nothing could prepare you for the words about to come out of his mouth. "Can I hold you?" he whispered so softly you almost thought you were hearing things.

"I--uh--you--" you stammered.

"Never mind, forget I said anything."

"No, wait--I was just surprised," you said softly. "If it will help you, then yes, you can hold me."

Without waiting for him to respond, you laid down beside him. He shifted slightly, getting into a more comfortable position. You felt his arm snake around you as he whispered, "Thank you."

"You're welcome," you whispered back.

He tightened his grip around your waist and pulled you closer so your back was flush against his front. You couldn't remember a time when you didn't want this, but you didn't imagine it happening quite like this.

It was either exhaustion from the day or the comfort of his arms, but you fell asleep within moments, Hotch not far behind you. Neither of you would admit it, but it was the best sleep you'd gotten in ages.

**********

The next day was different in so many ways. Hotch was different. Opening up to you had changed something in him, something you didn't understand. He was never more than a few feet from you at any point in time, he would brush up against you often, and he would glance at you for much longer than he should have. You weren't sure what to think, and you didn't want to read too much into it.

It was mid-afternoon when you received a phone call that led you to the location of the unsub. The seven of you pulled up to an abandoned house where he was supposedly staying. You entered, guns drawn, and began to clear the house.

You reached one of the back bedrooms and a shot rang out. You ducked back out of the doorway just as another bullet struck the doorframe where you had been standing a second before.

"FBI! Put the weapon down!" you yelled.

"You first," a voice replied.

"Come on, Matthew, it's over. Just put the gun down and come out."

You felt Hotch come up beside you. "She's right, Matthew. We have you surrounded."

You could practically hear the wheels in Matthew's head turning. After several moments of silence, a final shot rang out, followed by a loud thud.

Hotch reached out to stop you, but you pulled away from him and entered the bedroom. Matthew, the unsub, was lying on the floor in the middle of the room. The gun was in his right hand, blood splattered all over the left side of the room.

"Guess we were right about him being suicidal," you said softly. When you turned to look back at Hotch, he was staring at you with a look you couldn't quite place--somewhere between terror and anger.

Before you could ask him what was wrong, the rest of the team started coming into the room. You made a mental note to ask him about it later.

Hotch was quiet during dinner and he was silent when you got back to your room. He didn't even say anything as he crawled into bed.

You'd asked him if he was okay and he'd brushed you off, but you were no fool. You could feel the tension rolling off his body in waves.

You laid there, staring up at the ceiling, wondering what had happened and why he wouldn't speak to you. It was killing you inside and there was nothing you could do about it.

"Never do that again," he said suddenly.

"Do what?" you asked in confusion.

"Put yourself in danger like that. You could have been killed."

"Hotch, I was doing my job."

"Your job is to come home at the end of the day--not get yourself shot by some deranged killer."

"What are you talking about?"

He turned the light on and sat up, anger radiating off him. "You didn't even think--you heard that last shot and you just went into that room. You didn't know what you'd find! You didn't know if he was still alive--if he was going to shoot you. You didn't think about what it would do to me if something happened to you!"

You'd been gearing up to yell back at him until you heard his last sentence. "What it would do to you?" you whispered.

He froze, seemingly realizing in that moment what he'd actually admitted out loud. "I--shit."

"Hotch?" you questioned softly.

He groaned and put his head in his hands. "Forget I said anything."

"Yeah, that's not gonna happen."

He sighed. "Look, (Y/N). I--I care about you, okay? I...I don't think I could take it if something happened to you."

"Nothing happened, Hotch. I'm perfectly fine."

He finally looked up at you. "This time. What about the next time? Or the one after that? I'm terrified every single time you step into a potentially dangerous situation."

"Terrified of what, exactly?"

"Losing you!" he yelled, exasperated. "Of watching something bad happen to you; of not telling you how I feel; of never getting the chance to touch you or hold you or kiss you--and I can't stand it, (Y/N)! I just can't."

You blinked several times as if that would magically make his words sink in. Of all the ways you'd imagined having this kind of conversation with him, this was most definitely not on the list.

"I'm sorry," you murmured. "I didn't know you worried so much."

His eyes were swimming with emotion and unshed tears. "Do you have any idea how much you mean to me?" he whispered.

You shook your head. "But I think I'm starting to see it."

"I know I'm not supposed to feel like this. I'm not supposed to like you this way or want you like this, but I can't keep suppressing my emotions and pretending everything is fine as it is. It's not fine, (Y/N)--I'm not fine. I can't keep living a lie...it's killing me."

Every word you'd ever learned magically left your brain in that moment. Your heart was hammering in your chest, the only indication you were still alive, the rest of you completely frozen in time.

Then, suddenly, your brain kicked back into gear and you launched yourself towards him, lips locking against his in a passionate kiss. Your words had failed you, but there was no mistaking the emotions in that kiss.

When you separated, you were breathing heavily, cheeks flushed with embarrassment as you realized what you'd done. Before you could apologize, Hotch grabbed you and pulled you back into him, kissing you with as much passion as you'd given him.

"(Y/N)," he breathed against your lips.

You sighed as he grabbed your hips and pulled you onto his lap, lips never leaving yours. His hands snaked up under your tank top, feeling your warm, soft skin with the tips of his fingers.

You let him pull your shirt off over your head and his gaze fell to your exposed breasts. He bit his lip and looked up at you hesitantly, as if asking for your permission.

You grabbed his left hand and placed it directly on your chest. He got the hint and immediately lowered his face to take your pert nipple into his mouth.

You let out a little sigh and ran your fingers through his dark hair. When he nipped at your breast, you gasped and tightened your hold on him.

"Aaron..." you whispered softly, losing yourself in the feeling of his hands and his lips on your body.

He groaned and lifted his head to look at you again. "I never thought my name on your lips would sound so sexy."

You grinned and murmured, "Aaron."

"Now you're just being a tease."

You bit your lip and winked at him.

He chuckled lightly before flipping you onto your back so you were under him on the bed. He reattached his lips to yours, kissing you like his life depended on it.

Your hands began to tug on his shirt and he pulled away from you just long enough for you to yank it over his head. He wasted no time getting back to kissing you, his lips trailing down your jaw and neck.

Your hands caressed every inch of his skin you could reach from your position, the softness of your touch eliciting sweet sounds from his lips.

He rutted his hips against yours and you gasped at the feeling of his very hard member pressing into you.

Your body suddenly went into overdrive--years of pent-up desire rising to the surface. "I need you," you begged.

He lifted his gaze to meet yours. "I'm right here, baby."

You shook your head. "Need more."

He smirked. "Who knew you'd be such a needy girl?"

"Aaron," you whined.

He chuckled. "Alright, alright. Patience, sweetheart." He hooked his fingers under the waistband of your sweatpants and gave them a firm tug. He pulled them down your legs and tossed them off to the side.

You spread your legs for him, revealing your soaking wet core. He moaned at the sight before slipping a finger between your folds to collect the juices that lingered there. He brought his finger up to his mouth and licked it clean, another moan escaping his lips.

"You taste delicious," he murmured.

You could only stare at him, eyes pleading him to give you more.

Normally Hotch would have taken his time teasing you, but he could feel your need radiating off you in waves. Plus, if he was being honest, he needed you just as badly. Waiting just wasn't in the cards tonight.

He dropped to his stomach between your legs and before you could say a word, his mouth was on you, hot breath, wet tongue, and devilish lips dancing across your core, making you gasp with pleasure.

He ate you out like you were his very last meal--and he intended to savor every second of it. Despite having never been intimate with you before, he played your body like an expert musician, hitting every single one of your sweet spots, making you squirm beneath his touch.

"Aaron, please--I'm--" you gasped out.

He moaned, not wanting to stop his ministrations to respond to you. He knew you were close without you having to spell it out. He could feel the way your pussy clenched around his fingers and the way your thighs had begun to shake. He was desperate to feel you cum--to taste your delicious release--so he didn't stop.

Your fingers dug into his scalp and tugged at his hair as you squirmed, pleasure threatening to overwhelm you.

With one last flick of his tongue and motion of his fingers, you cried out his name as your orgasm crashed into you. He held you in place as he lapped up your release, lips not leaving your pussy until you practically dragged him up by his hair.

He smiled down at you and licked his lips, tasting the last of you on them. Your eyes were wide and your body shivered with aftershocks--a feeling you weren't exactly accustomed to.

"Can I return the favor?" you asked, slightly breathless.

"As much as I would love that, I wanna be inside of you too badly to wait--I'm gonna struggle to last as it is."

You smiled. "Then lose the boxers, handsome. Lemme see you."

He sat up and quickly shed his boxers, eyes focused on your face. He knew he was well endowed--and he knew how to use it--but nothing made his chest swell with pride as much as the way you were looking at him right now.

Your eyes were focused on his cock, surprise evident in your gaze as you took in his size. The surprise quickly melted into heady desire and your gaze flicked back up to his face.

"Like what you see?" he teased.

"You know I do," you whispered.

There was something about the way you said it that made him want you even more. As he lined himself up with your entrance, he took a deep breath to try and maintain his composure. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt you or lose control.

You wiggled your hips slightly, letting him know you were ready and willing.

He locked eyes with you as he began to slowly slide into your tight, wet heat. Your lips parted and a soft gasp left them as he pushed inside. "I've got you, baby," he murmured.

Your hands gripped his biceps as he kept pushing into you, the stretch threatening to break you right in half. By the time he finally bottomed out, your nails had dug crescent shaped indentations into his skin.

He wanted to wait for your body to adjust to him before he began to move, but you had other plans. "Fuck me, Aaron. Please."

The pleading tone in your voice was all he needed to hear. He began to move, hips setting a fast pace from the start.

The room filled with the sounds of your love-making--moans, whimpers, gasps of each other's names--mixed with the salacious sounds of your bodies coming together.

"You feel so good, baby," he whispered. "Even more incredible than I imagined."

Your mind was completely fuzzy, filled with nothing but the feeling of immense pleasure. As such, you couldn't formulate coherent sentences to respond to anything Hotch whispered to you.

"I could stay here forever--" he moaned as you clenched tightly around him. "Fuck--baby, I'm not gonna last."

You simply moaned in response as he sped up his movements.

"I need you to cum for me, (Y/N/N). Need to feel you--please."

You were clutching onto him, nails raking down his back as he fucked you deeply. "Close," was all you could manage to say to him.

"Can I fill you up, baby girl? Wanna make you mine."

Something about his words drove you wild. You screamed out "Yes!" followed by "Aaron!" as you came, body shaking beneath him.

The way your pussy clenched around his cock as you came sent him right over the edge and he filled you with his seed. His hips faltered on his last few strokes and he whispered sweet nothings into your ear as you both came down from your highs.

He slowly pulled out of you and your body shivered slightly at the loss of contact. He quickly got up, stumbling slightly, as he made his way to the bathroom for a warm washcloth.

He came back and began to gently clean you up. When he was done, he tossed the washcloth onto the floor and crawled into the bed beside you.

"Come here, pretty girl," he mumbled.

You obliged, moving your body so you were up against his side. He pulled you closer and you rested your head on his chest.

"Infinitely better than I'd imagined," he whispered into your hair.

You chuckled lightly. "Agreed."

"Oh? So you imagined it too?"

You glanced up at him, a light blush covering your cheeks. "Of course I did."

He raised his eyebrows. "You're very good at hiding your attraction."

"Thank you. It's not exactly easy when you're surrounded by a bunch of profilers."

He nodded. "I know what you mean. I'm surprised you didn't know I liked you before this."

You bit your lip and looked away.

"What is it?"

"Well...JJ knew."

"Oh?"

"She insisted you liked me...and she also knows that I like you."

"Ahh, well...I suppose it was only a matter of time."

You looked up at him again. "You're taking this surprisingly well."

He shrugged. "It's not as if I was planning on keeping this a secret."

Surprise lit up your face. "You weren't?"

He returned your surprised expression. "Of course not. I finally have you, (Y/N), and I'm sure as hell not letting go."

"But what about the rules?"

"To hell with the rules. We deserve to be happy."

"Who are you and what have you done with Aaron Hotchner?" you teased softly.

He smiled. "Him? Well...he fell in love."

You inhaled sharply.

"You don't have to say it back, (Y/N). I have no expectations here...but I know how I feel and I needed to say it."

You lifted your head off his chest to look at him better. "I know I don't have to, but I want to. I love you too," you whispered.

A thousand emotions filled his eyes the moment those words left your lips. He leaned down to kiss you and you felt your body respond to him immediately.

Before you knew it, you were straddling him as you made out, desire pulsating between you. "Round two?" you asked with a grin.

"I thought you'd never ask."

**********

The next morning, you went down for breakfast a few minutes before Hotch. You'd woken up to his lips on the back of your neck and shoulders--kisses that quickly turned to more fiery passion.

You'd finally convinced him to come shower with you, which of course took longer because he insisted on giving you just one more orgasm.

When you walked into the little seating area on the first floor, you were greeted by the rest of your team. Every single one of them had shit-eating grins on their faces as they said good morning to you.

"How was your night, (Y/N)?" Emily asked lightly.

"Did you sleep well?" JJ teased.

"I didn't get much sleep," you said honestly--knowing they clearly were already aware of that.

"I imagine Hotch didn't either," Morgan said with a grin.

You shot him a look. "Alright, out with it."

"I'm just saying, (Y/N/N), the walls are really thin," he responded.

Your eyes widened and you looked at JJ for confirmation.

"We're just really grateful for those noise-canceling headphones you got us for Christmas last year," JJ answered.

"Oh. My. God," you groaned.

"Morning everyone," Hotch said as he walked into the room, completely oblivious to the current conversation.

"Morning, Aaron," Rossi said knowingly, a teasing lilt to his voice.

Hotch glanced at you, taking note of your very red cheeks. Comprehension dawned on his face and his eyes widened slightly.

"Thin walls," you whispered.

To your surprise, Hotch simply smiled. "Saves us the trouble of telling them we're dating."

Rossi was the first to laugh and the rest of the team quickly joined in. You were glad they knew--even if it was in the most awkward way possible. You knew they loved and supported both you and Hotch, and that wouldn't change with your new-found relationship.

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mggsv · 6 months

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What they don’t know won’t hurt them

f!reader x aaron “hotch” hotchner (18+)

Imagine being literal Enemies to Lovers with Hotch..

The way you absolutely aggravate him in so many ways- he can’t stand it. The way he nearly treats you as if you yourself is an unsub is insane. You piss him off.

The feeling’s mutual. You couldn’t stand him much either. You always seemed to compete in a way. The team would expect that of Morgan- but Hotch? It’s a shocker that even Rossi brought to attention.

He never paired you together with him even on cases. You never worked together it seemed. You never sat close on the jet- hell even when you all went to Rossi’s on the weekends you were on opposite ends of the marble counter.

It made the team wonder just what was wrong. It made Garcia upset when she brought up the issue between you two, Hotch telling her quickly to “drop it, Penelope.” They had no idea why you two just hated each other so much.

They had no idea…

“That’s a good girl..take it like I know you can.” A soft groan fell from Aaron’s lips. You moan, hands gripping his shoulders while you bounced on his cock. His hands held onto your hips, his tongue darting out to lick your nipple. Your perfect breast bouncing to the rhythm you came down to. “Hotch-“ You whimpered out. One of his hands moved to rub over your sensitive clit. Your pussy was so wet from his big cock fucking so deeply into you.

He hit that sweet spot inside of you over and over. How you wanted him to lay you over his desk and take you there like he had done the first time. Or how he held your head against the polished wood while your hands were behind your back, his cock deep inside of you. The door was shut and locked, the blinds closed. Everyone was outside- it was a normal work day. They’d never know you were riding Hotch, him filling your cunt like he promised he would. They’d never know. They didn’t have to know.

They didn’t understand all of that hate was sexual frustration the two of you quickly fixed when it became too much.

“I’m-I’m cumming..” Your thighs shook. There’s a small smile in his face, his lips moving over to kiss yours, “Cum for me.. my good girl..”

“Oh fuck-“ Your eyes rolled as that wave washed over you. You mentally couldn’t take another ‘good girl’ out of him.

#criminal minds #aaron hotch #aaron hotchner #hotch #hotchner #aaron hotch smut #hotch smut #aaron hotch imagine #hotch x reader #aaron hotch hotchner #hotch x you #female reader #fem reader #hotchreid #hotch x reader smut #hotch x fem!reader #dom aaron hotchner #enemies to lovers #aaron hotchner x reader

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honeypiehotchner · 1 year

Text

baby, please come home (Hotch x Fem!Reader) -- one shot

Merry early Christmas! It’s becoming a little tradition for me to write a Christmas one shot with Hotch every year. This year it’s smutty! (You’re welcome) If you don’t celebrate Christmas, Happy Holidays! And enjoy this one shot full of filth to get you through the end of the year. Love y’all mwah

Summary: Hotch has been overseas for three months and counting, and now it looks like he won’t be home in time for Christmas.

Warnings: beard!Hotch (yes that’s a warning), mention of marriage, Hotch is a (playful) asshole, smut 18+ only pls minors dni!!!, unprotected p in v (wrap it irl pls i beg), oral (m and f receiving), sleepy sex, cockwarming, lots of teasing, Hotch being pussy whipped as one of y’all said on one of my other fics 🤪

WC: ~3k

Christmas is your favorite time of year.

You have no idea why, since all your family did on Christmas was bicker and fight when you were younger. You received presents that confused you, like chocolate “coal” in your stocking and underwear under the tree (because you didn’t “believe” enough, apparently).

Somehow, through it all, you made it your own. The twinkling lights, the fun decorations, the music that you can’t ever get enough of. It’s nostalgic, for a time you never really experienced, but wanted to so badly. The happy holidays. The happy family around a warm fire.

Now that you’re older and on your own, you make it perfectly catered to you because that’s what you deserve.

This year, that means decking the hell out of the apartment. Especially since it looks like you’ll be spending it alone.

Your boyfriend — well, fiancé, except he refused to corner you into a decision right before he left to go overseas, even though you told him you didn’t feel cornered at all — can’t be here, not like he hoped. He went overseas three months ago, expecting to be back after only three weeks. But his assignment is taking longer than he expected.

Much longer, because now he won’t be here for Christmas. You’re trying not to let it tear you up inside.

It’s not like he can control his assignment. And he’s apologized — profusely — multiple times. So much so that you’ve told him to stop. He’s forgiven. It’s alright. You understand. Christmas can wait. You’ll leave the decorations up (which you do anyway) and Christmas can happen once he’s stateside again. No worries.

It does hurt, but you can’t tell him that. Again, not his fault. And he’s already worrying about so much over there. Not to mention, you only get to speak to him once a week. You’d rather spend that time focusing on good things.

You head downstairs to pick up your package, which is another box of lights. You want lights around every doorway, and around the ceiling in the living room. And a few more strands on the tree. Okay, maybe you should’ve ordered another box.

As you ascend the stairs to get back to your apartment, you think of Aaron’s face, how he’d look at you if he saw these lights. How he’d shake his head with a smile, quietly take everything from you, and hang up the lights exactly where you want them.

You wipe away a stray tear as the elevator doors open on your floor. Unlocking the apartment door, you decide the best way to get through this is blast your favorite Christmas music and put on your comfiest pajamas. Maybe some hot chocolate, too. Maybe a Christmas movie on the TV instead of music. You’re pulling out all the stops.

+++

How the Grinch Stole Christmas plays on the TV while you sip your hot chocolate, gazing around the room. You’ll need to find a chair tall enough so you can reach the ceiling.

God, if Aaron saw you standing on a chair, he’d kill you. One time, you were standing on your desk chair to reach the top shelf of your bookcase, and when Aaron walked in, he promptly wrapped his arms around your body and hoisted you down.

“This is why I’m here,” he had said. “I’m tall enough to reach these things so you don’t have to hurt yourself.”

“Yeah, but you were busy!” you argued.

“Never too busy for you, honey,” he said, grinning as he kissed you, then reached for the exact book you needed.

Before you realize it, you’re grinning too, thinking of this memory. You wish he was here. You know he wishes he could be here, too.

Sometimes you wish he wasn’t so damn important. You wish you could talk to him more than once a week, and at least Skype with him or something. All you’ve been able to do is talk to him on the satellite phone, only when he calls you, because the number changes every so often. And sometimes the calls end unexpectedly, other times he has to go (but at least gets to say goodbye), but regardless, they’re never long enough.

It’s unfair. It sounds childish, but it’s true. It’s fucking unfair.

“Ugh,” you groan, wiping angrily at your cheeks. Get it together. It’s time to decorate. Aaron will be home soon.

You have no idea when. But soon sounds better than eventually.

You set your hot chocolate down and grab the lights, getting ready to turn this place into a damn Winter Wonderland.

Halfway through the movie, you have the lights around the ceiling and are working on tearing open the next box. Next on the list are the doorways. You should have enough for the bedroom, bathroom, office, and spare room doorways. Not sure about the kitchen, though. You might need another box. Damn.

“Damn,” you say out loud when you find a knot in the strand. Huffing, you sit down on the couch to begin the detailing process. It’s always a hassle.

Especially when you have your favorite movie playing, so you keep getting distracted. Eventually, you resign to watching the screen and detangling later. You probably won’t sleep tonight anyway, so you have all night to keep decorating.

Right as your favorite part is on, there’s a knock on the front door.

You’re not expecting anyone, so you ignore it, hoping whoever it was will leave. Or got the wrong apartment, maybe.

But they knock again. Jesus. Fine.

You leave your (second) mug of hot chocolate on the kitchen counter as you make your way to the front door. You lift onto the balls of your feet, looking through the peephole, and—

“What?” you whisper to yourself, fumbling with the deadbolt and yanking the door open. “What? Aaron?”

You leap into his arms, not caring that he’s in the hallway. Who cares? He’s here. He’s home. Finally.

“Hi honey,” he whispers, close to your ear. “I missed you.”

“You have no idea how much I’ve missed you,” you murmur, tears springing to your eyes and flowing freely. You sniffle into his neck, inhaling sharply. It’s really him.

He carries you just inside the door and shuts it, giving you both some privacy. He wraps his arms around you even tightly, exhaling. He’s needed this hug badly for weeks. Ever since he landed over there, really.

You lift your head to look at him, eyesight still blurry with tears. “You’re really you? I’m not dreaming?”

“You’re not dreaming, honey,” he says, then kisses you sweetly. “I’m here.”

“Thank god,” you breathe, pulling him back in for another kiss.

Here is when you notice his face. It’s not clean shaven like it usually is — which you understand. There isn’t exactly time for shaving overseas or even razors available to shave with, you imagine. But it’s…different.

The last time you saw him with a beard is when he had a few days off, and he didn’t shave. But that was a few days. This is…almost three months worth.

“You okay?” Aaron chuckles. You’ve just been staring at his face, with your palms cupping his cheeks.

“You have a beard.”

“I do,” he grins. “Do you like it?”

“Still deciding,” you admit. “I’m so used to you with a clean face.”

“Me too,” he says. “I’m ready to shave, if I’m honest.”

You shake your head slowly.

“No?” he raises an eyebrow. “Why?”

“Mm,” you pause, your mind running wild. It’s been so long since you’ve hugged him, felt him. Who can blame you for your mind venturing to…other activities. “Reasons.”

“Oh?” he bites back a smile, adjusting his arms around you, widening his legs. He knows what he’s doing. He knows what you’re doing. “What are these reasons?”

“I think you know,” you tease.

“I think you’re being shy,” he teases you right back. “C’mon,” he nods, his jaw moving underneath your palms. “What is it?”

“Just…” you pause, burying your face in his shoulder. You’re still too shy to ask for what you want, especially something like this. It feels so embarrassing.

“Take your time,” he coos. “You know you need to ask for what you want.”

“Can’t you just read my mind this once? Profile me?”

“It doesn’t work that way, sweet girl,” he says. “What is it?”

“I just missed you,” you deflect with a shrug, but nothing can hide the temperature your body has risen to. “That’s all.”

“Mhm,” he hums. “And how did you miss me?”

He’s relentless, and you hate him for it, but you love his shit-eating grin just as much.

“I missed you being inside me,” you admit. “And…” you trail away, chewing on the inside of your cheek.

“And?” he presses, though he knows exactly what you mean.

“And…” you try again. “And, I missed it when you— you know. Put your…yeah.”

He laughs, fingers squeezing your hips, massaging soothing circles. “What are we going to do about you being so shy?”

“I’m trying!” you protest. You’ve never been good at wording these things. He knows you so well that you’re used to just letting him take the reins. “Don’t laugh at me.”

“I’m not laughing at you, honey, I’m sorry,” he calms down, moving his hands to rub up and down on your arms. “Let’s go to bed.”

You deflate, thinking you’ve ruined the moment. “Bed?”

“Unless you’d rather I eat you out right here, yes,” he says.

You gasp. “Aaron!”

“What?” he laughs. “Come on. I’m not teasing you anymore, let’s go.”

He takes your hand and guides you down the hall to the bedroom. You sulk the entire way.

“You’re an asshole sometimes, you know,” you mutter.

He spins around and scoops you up in one swift movement, plopping you down on the bed just as quick. You squeal once you land, all of it happening so fast. He grabs a pillow and places it under your hips, and you just know this is going to be a long night.

You squirm, though, not uncomfortable by him but impatient. And awkward. It always feels weird after it’s been so long, but only because you get in your head about it. Aaron doesn’t ever make it awkward or uncomfortable. He does the opposite.

He kneels before you, tugging your pajama pants down, taking your underwear with them. He leaves gentle kisses in his wake, covering every inch of your skin until you’re practically on fire.

It’s different with the beard, obviously. A little scratchy, but good. Soft. Arousing in a way you didn’t think about.

“God, I missed this,” he says, mostly to himself as he spreads your legs.

His lips travel further, to your inner thighs and over your mound, but not where you need him. Until he covers you with his mouth in a sudden movement.

You squeak and he hisses, pulling back. “Sorry, honey, I’m— Fuck. Okay.”

“Are you okay?” you ask, mistaking his words for something else.

But when he looks up at you, your stomach flips.

“I’m okay, I’m—” he pauses to smile. “You’re so beautiful, I just— It always gets me.”

“Aaron…” you pout. How is he so sweet when he’s between your legs, with a mouth that sinful? How can honey and desire drip from the same tongue so effortlessly?

“You tell me if it’s too much,” he says. He looks wild, like he’s holding himself back with everything he’s got. “I know you’re sensitive and I might get a little carried away.”

You reach your hand down to ruffle his hair, smoothing it out before messing it up again. And tugging, pulling his head closer to your core. He smirks.

“Go ahead,” you tell him. “Please.”

He doesn’t need to be asked twice. Ever.

He dips his head and covers you with his mouth, his tongue delving inside of you immediately, his favorite thing to do. It’s different with his beard, but the sensation is far more arousing than it is anything else. Your grip tightens in his hair and he groans into you. He loves it when you do that, as if you have a choice. It’s almost always an involuntary reaction to his actions. He knows your body so well, even after time away.

He barely comes up for air before returning, wrapping his arms around your thighs, keeping them open. You buck your hips further into his mouth, crying out when he sucks on your clit. Your toys can’t compare to him. They’ll never measure up to his tongue. Or the way his stubble feels.

One orgasm down and he’s already chasing you toward another. Both of your hands are in his hair, holding on for dear life, and he’s nearly incoherent. Another orgasm rips through your body, leaving your legs shaking as he soothes you with gentle touches.

But it’s still not enough.

You claw at his shoulders until he gets the message and crawls up your body, face to face with you, his beard shiny with the remnants of your climax. His hair is everywhere, all your doing, and his grin is wild as he leans in to kiss you.

“Inside me,” you whine, working on kicking his pants down his legs.

He laughs as he helps you, unbuttoning his pants and shoving them down. He barely has time to kick them off with his boxers before you’re gripping his hips, pulling him in. You hook your legs around him and pull him closer, making his arms falter. He feels his head brush against your core and he cusses, leaning his forehead on the bed next to you.

“Come on,” you murmur, still impatient. “I’ve missed you, please, I need you—”

“I know, I know,” he coos, lifting his head to kiss you. “I know. Let me get a—”

“We don’t have time for a damn condom, Aaron, get inside me now.”

“Are you sure?” he asks, and if he wasn’t so sweet, you’d slap the shit out of him.

“Yes, please, I’m serious, can you just— Fuck.” He pushes inside of you in one motion, giving you everything like you’ve asked, knocking the breath out of your lungs.

“Better?” he asks, smirking into your neck.

You nod, whimpering, rocking your hips already, begging him to move. So he does.

There’s a certain way that Aaron moves that in unlike any other experiences you’ve had. And maybe it’s simply because he took the time — and wanted to take the time to get to know your body. Now he knows exactly what rhythm you need, whenever you need it, without you having to ask.

Though, sometimes you are impatient and you try to speed things up, the way you hook your heels together and lock him in. His only response is to do as you wish, and wrap his arms around you, between your body and the mattress, to keep you as close to his chest as possible.

“There you go,” he whispers, mouthing at your neck. In between his own heavy breaths, he quietly coaxes you toward another edge. “Let me feel you, honey, let go. You can let go.”

You’re a whimpering mess as you nod, the sensations too much after time away, and yet exactly what you needed. It isn’t long before he works you to your third orgasm, and you cling to his shoulders as you ride out the high.

You always know when he’s about to cum, the way he presses his hips impossibly close to yours, holding himself inside of you as deep as he can. You feel the telltale twitch, his breath hitches, and he collapses.

It’s been a while since he’s let go inside of you, and the consequences will be dealt with in the morning, but right now, it soothes you. Right now, it’s the warmth that you need.

+++

You fall asleep in each other’s embrace, Aaron behind you with his arm draped over you. But it isn’t long before you’re waking up to movement in the bed.

“Sorry,” he whispers into the dark. “I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

“What’s the matter?” you ask, rolling toward him, and when you do, you feel the issue. You can’t help but giggle.

“Sorry,” Aaron sounds embarrassed. “I was just gonna get up, you go back to sleep.” He tries to move out of bed, but you grab onto his arms, pulling him back down.

You shake your head, even though he can’t see. “You’re not going anywhere when I’m right here.” Fully awake now, hungry even. You snake your hand down to his erection, smirking when he hisses as you wrap your hand around him. “I’ve missed this,” you say, moving gently. “Can I?” you don’t need to clarify what you want.

“You’re not too tired?” he asks, but you’re already pushing the covers back.

“Never,” you murmur, stretching out, your mouth now even with his pelvis. You take him into your mouth, humming contentedly. You never thought you’d miss something like this, but you missed everything about Aaron.

His moans are quiet and his hands are gentle against the back of your head, slightly pressing you down further. You don’t mind. If anything, if you were both more awake, you’d want him to hold you down.

Just when you think he’s almost reached his peak, he pulls you off of him. He says he wants to be inside you. You couldn’t think of any place better.

Slowly, with pauses to kiss you because he can’t help himself, he maneuvers you until you’re back the way you were sleeping. With him behind you, he pulls your leg up, placing a kiss behind your ear as he enters you once more.

It’s blissful. He holds you tenderly, his arms wrapping around you and pulling you against him as he rocks into you.

After you both reach your highs once again, you fall asleep with Aaron still inside you. Normally he tries to move, but you know he missed you, because this time he only moves closer.

As he kisses your temple, he whispers, “Merry Christmas, baby.”

#aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotchner smut #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x fem!reader smut #aaron hotchner x reader smut #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #aaron hotchner x you #hotch smut #hotch x fem!reader #hotch x reader #hotch x reader smut #hotch x fem!reader smut #bearded hotch

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just-a-touch-of-sass-and-fandoms · 6 months

Text

Title: Atta Girl Part Two

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Reader

Word count: 1,100

Warnings: Smut, blow job, penetration, light consensual choking.

A/N: I had a request for a part two of Atta Girl. Hopefully this satisfies you 😉

——

I understand completely…sir.”

“Atta girl.”

Hotch let you down slowly to your feet. His towel falling away as you slid down his body.

“Now,” he took a step back. “Show me how my perfect good girl will be my dirty little slut.”

Without a word you dropped to your knees, bracing yourself with one hand on his thigh, the other grabbing the base of his erection. Dragging your tongue along the underside of his length you swirled your tongue on his tip before moving to the inside of this thighs. One hand kept a grip on his cock while the other dragged slowly up the inside of his thigh. His breath caught in his throat as your hand came to rest between his legs, lightly massaging his balls.

Looking up you couldn’t help but smirk. “You okay sir?”

“Deep throat.” He let out a breath with a small groan mixed in. “Deep throat now.” His hand grabbed the top of your head as you opened your mouth and he slammed himself into the back of your throat. With a slight gag you tapped his thigh and he let you back off.

“Fuck. You’re going to make my pussy and my throat sore.”

“You can take it.” He looked down at you. “So take it.” Slamming his cock into your throat again you kept a hand on his base to control his thrusts, but you still had tears forming. After holding him and sucking on his length he let you off. Your mouth dropped to suck each of his balls, swirling your tongue as Hotch moaned.

“You like that? You like how I find every sensitive spot?” Hotch looked down at you, he grabbed your hair and slammed you onto his cock one more time. He let you pull back and leaned down to caress the side of your face.

“Find more. Find every spot. Every good girl knows her master, every dirty little slut knows how to drive him wild and fight to control his reaction.”

He turned and walked to the bed as you found the strength to rise out of your crouched position. Hotch laid back, legs bent over the edge of the bed. You let a smile come across your lips as you walked towards him. You massaged one breast while the other trailed down to find your clit. Aarons head came up to take in the view.

“Look at you laid out for me. Such a good boy.” Hotch took a minute to process. No one had called him a good boy before. And he had no idea how much he would like it.

You stopped just short of the bed, dragging your fingers up the inside of each of his thighs. He sucked in a sharp breath as his stomach flexed. “I’m going to read every inch of your body.”

His cock laid on his stomach and you dragged your tongue again on the underside of his length. When you reached his tip you have a quick flick of your tongue before dragging your tongue across his hip to the left. You pressed a kiss into his hip before beginning to massage his balls and nip at his hip. Dragging your tongue to the right you repeated the motion. Hotch looked down as you found his eyes. Moving to the center of his abdomen you pressed wet kisses into his stomach as he flexed with each movement.

You moved to straddle his hips, running your hands up the side of his chest, pushing his arms above his head. You leaned down, biting the base of his neck. Aaron pushed his head back into the bed as you rocked your wet pussy over his cock and dragged your tongue up one side, nippling at the base of his chin. Looking down at him you saw his eyes pressed shut, trying to control his reactions. Moving to the other side of his neck his breath hitched as you bit the edge of his chin and ground yourself harder on his cock.

“You’ve been such a good boy for me. Letting me explore every inch of you.” You reached behind you, grabbing his cock to harden his erection. “Now I’m going to take every inch of you.”

Rocking back you lined him with your entrance. “Watch me sir.” His head came up, eyes locked on you, and his mouth hung open as you lowered yourself. Letting him fill you completely and stretch you with a perfect burn.

“Fuck baby girl,” Hotch exhaled. “I’m gonna make you cum.” Grabbing your hips he pulled you down, completely taking you to his base as he began to grind your hips. Each motion pressed against your walls and g-spot. As his motions forced you to increase your pace, one of your hands moved to your breast as the other leaned back slightly to brace on his thigh.

“Oh god yes. Fuck..please…more.”

The pace sped up and both arms came to rest on your head letting him take total control. One of his hands moved to find your clit, the other reached up grabbing you by the throat. You leaned forward into his tightening grip, bracing yourself on his chest, and keeping the pace he had set on your own.

Each snap of your hips Hotch pressed harder into your clit. “Fuck,” you leaned into his grip making you a little dizzy, but increase your pleasure.

“Please,” you begged. “I was a good girl. Pleae…please sir let me cum.”

“You think you earned it? You think you learned my body enough?” He loosened his grip on your throat.

“Yes…yes I watched you struggle to remain in control of your body. Fuck I need to cum.”

Aaron was so close himself that he had no choice. “Cum for me. Cum for your master.”

Completely letting yourself go you slammed into an incredible full body orgasm. Spasming your pussy around his cock, you fell forward bracing yourself on his chest as you slowly brought down the spread of your hips. Aaron let out an absolutely uncontrolled moan as he essentially exploded inside of you.

You fell forward, burying your face in the side of his neck as Aaron held you tighly. Each of you trying to match the breathing of the other. You pressed a soft kiss on the base of his neck and he did the same.

“Thank you sir,” you whispered into his ear.

“Thank you baby girl. And next time,” he shifted his head to look at you. “I learn your body so I can properly fuck you like only I can.”

Tagging: @mrs-ssa-hotch

#criminal minds #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner smut #Aaron Hotchner x reader smut #hotch x reader #hotch x reader smut

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beelmons · 1 year

Note

For the prompts : 23 & 26 w dilf hotch bc I’m a slut for it 😌

Soccer practice sucked, plain and simple. Mostly, because 12 year olds weren't precisely Cristiano Ronaldo. Lots of kicking around without much technique and even fewer scored goals. The one thing that kept you going? The annoyingly hot volunteer coach.

Initially, you had gotten yourself involved with Aaron Hotchner's junior soccer team because of a volunteer program you participated in, but eventually you developed a taste for being an assistant coach. Or rather, you were dying to assist the coach, in any way he wanted you to.

It all started with soccer-related texts that eventually turned into inquiries about other interests and hobbies. It was innocent, at the beginning, until it wasn't. You weren't sure when it turned like this. You weren't sure where you had gathered the courage from to send that text.

[ 01/05/23 to Aaron Hotchner ] I would want you to tie me up, to have me squirming beneath you, to do with me as you please and crave. Oh, and don't stop. Even if I beg you to.

Yes, you weren't sure how an innocent volunteer soccer match ended up like this. You in a random street motel, wrists binded to the headboard by official FBI handcuffs, and the volunteer coach's cock pounding your cunt.

You struggled to catch your breath as you went on to your fourth orgasm of the night. First one was courtesy of his fingers, at a redlight on the way to the motel, the second one was the works of his magnificent and trained tongue, and the third, a vibrating toy that could be confused with a massager by unknowing bystanders.

Your body was twisted in ways you didn't quite understand, all while Aaron was still punishing your pussy for the endless days of teasing without action through that little phone. Your eyes were filled with tears and your face felt utterly hot as you felt the overstimulation beginning to be painful.

Your heels tried to nudge at Aaron's thighs, your moans pleadingly calling for his attention.

"Use your words, sweetheart." he cooed, his fingers trailing down your front with the tips of them caressing your skin.

"P-Please stop." you tried to beg.

His hips actually came to a rest at your words, and you were a little disappointed if you were being honest. However, instead of letting you relax, his hands grabbed at your sides to flip you over. Your arms twisted slightly from the bidning of the cuffs, it was rather painful but you could take it, as you laid face-down on the bed.

Shortly, a loud smack landed on your asscheek, and you felt him enter you again from behind, his thrusts slow at first with the full intention of picking the pace back up.

"Sorry." he groaned as he laid his entire chest against your back "That's the one wish I can't grant you."

#blurb: smut #blurb: hotchner #blurb: criminal minds #there you go bestie #<3 #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x reader smut #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner smut #hotch x reader #hotch x reader smut #hotch x you #aaron hotchner x you

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the-hopeless-haze · 1 year

Text

You Know I’m Not That Girl

Summary: You don't want to be tied down. You've lived almost your whole life running from commitment. But Aaron wants more from you. You don't know how to handle that.

Word Count: 10k+ (I KNOW)

Warnings: smut nsfw mdni

-------

His mouth is on yours again.

Hot, heavy, heady, like you could get drunk off his kiss.

You don’t know that he picked out that shirt you’re taking off his body just for you. You also don’t know that he combed his hair this morning thinking of you brushing it back when it falls forward on his forehead. For whatever reason you also failed to notice that he let that waitress he was interviewing in relation to the case back at the diner flirt with him much longer than he would have if you weren’t in the room. If only to get a reaction out of you, however selfish his motivations were.

But the thought in the back of his head hurts more than he can bear.

That you noticed all those things. And you didn’t care.

It wasn’t so far-fetched. You are a profiler like him, after all, and it causes you to glean things from people that you’d rather not know. It makes it harder to be innocent, naïve, happy. Because you learn how to read people, and you learn how to separate paranoia and fiction from reality and fact.

In the same token, though, learning how to read people led Aaron to learn how to be unreadable. How to be a blank canvas, stoic and resolved, never granting anything a reaction. It worked well. It allows him to morph easily, because his tether on who he is outside of the job is so loose nowadays, especially after divorcing Hailey.

But you could’ve seen the signs and chosen to ignore them. It’s unclear how obvious he is, because what he feels like is his skin is on fire every time you walk in the room. If that were the case, though, there’d be a lot more talk of what the two of you were doing behind closed doors. So far, no one knew, or no one was brave enough to talk about it loud enough for him to hear.

Aaron knows he should just enjoy this. He has you, half-naked, begging for him to touch you. Kiss-bruised lips—you did that to him. Hair disheveled by your hand. Cock hard and straining under his dress pants, well, that was your influence too. You are here. Tangible. Real.

Though sometimes he gets the feeling all you’re giving him is your body. Like your soul is far away. Detached. You’re giving yourself to him, sure, you’re arching your back at the touch of his hands and you’re kissing him back fervently…. But there’s nothing else behind your actions besides a desire to get off.

Maybe he’s not being fair, exactly. You’ve done nothing to indicate you don’t care about him. But whenever he asks to see you outside of the office, the jet, the bedroom…. You come up with an excuse. You kiss him again until he forgets what he asked you. And then it’s back to this.

It was never his intention to make this just about sex. He’s barely done a casual thing in his life, never mind having a casual situationship. It wasn’t long after Hailey, and if he was being honest, he’d wanted you before that, and even though he’d never cheat… Haley knew his eyes were wandering. She could smell it on him. Takes one to know one. At least he didn’t actually commit the deed with the ring still on his finger.

And then… you both went undercover as a couple and it was one thing after another, caught your eye in just the right light and then your lips. It was in Vegas, of all places, but what happened there didn’t stay there like he thought it might’ve. Once he had you… he wanted you in whatever capacity you’d grant. Even if it was just sex. Even if you refused to talk about it.

But it was getting unbearable to keep holding back.

“Aaron,” you say breathlessly in his ear. “Where are you? Because you’re not here with me.”

Funny you should call him out like that.

“I’m sorry, honey,” he whispers, carding his fingers through your hair, pushing it back, away from your face, looking into your eyes in the dim lighting of the room, feeling his own brim with tears. Quickly, he diverts his gaze to above your head, leaning up to press a kiss to your forehead. “I promise I’m right here.”

You try to swallow against the lump forming in your throat. He needs to not do this tonight. You need to do whatever you can to make sure he doesn’t do this tonight. You can’t handle a confession, or more of a conversation than “good night” after you fuck him.

So you wiggle out of his embrace, start leaving wet open-mouthed kisses across his torso, heading down lower, lower…. Down the length of his body until you reach the fabric of his pants and he’s flushed red in the face.

“Honey…” he says quietly. “You don’t have to.”

“I want to,” you tell him.

And you think from the look in his eyes maybe you misread him. This alone might result in him professing his undying love for you.

You don’t know how he stayed married to Hailey that long if she refused to give him head. That’s the first sign right there, especially when she demanded it for herself. Or, well, that’s what you’ve gleaned. He’s much too gracious to be throwing his ex-wife under the bus. Still. You know he didn’t get this often, if at all.

It’s usually not your favorite thing in the world, granted, because a lot of men are too rough and you don’t like to be manhandled when you’re already struggling to breathe. But Aaron was so gentle the first time, caressing your hair and praising you in between whimpers and breathy moans.

Let’s just say it was hard to look at him in the office the next day. If nothing else the two of you are a perfect sexual match.

You can’t believe you ever got him on his back.

You must have caught him off guard, in those bright lights of the Vegas casino, both of you a little tipsy off the free drinks, neither of you really playing the slots even though the case was over. The plane needed emergency maintenance. Funny how these things just happen like this.

You were still clad in your sequined dress, high heels, and heavy makeup and you remember making an off-color comment about how your fake marriage for the case was never consummated. And he said something stupid, stiffly, like, “Well. It was fake.”

And you said, “Well, what if at least the consummation part was real? We should’ve done that first, you know, to really sell it. Maybe we should have sex now, you know, in case we ever need to go undercover again.”

When his eyes widened and he cleared his throat you knew you had him wrapped around your finger.

You knew you had him long before that, though. JJ, a beautiful blond woman, always knew when men’s eyes were wandering where they weren’t supposed to, having been a victim of it her whole life. And she informed you on multiple occasions that Aaron’s target was you. She wasn’t wrong. But to act on it? You had to be crazy.

You knew it was stupid from the get-go, and not just because you’re technically his subordinate. You were in the midst of two situationships prior to him, and you knew logically both of you wanted different things. Yes, he married his high school sweetheart, and maybe the divorce led him to think a little differently about what sex and relationships meant to him. Ultimately, though, you know what he wants. A live-in girlfriend that will marry him someday, have his kids, and give him the whole white picket fence deal that he thought Haley would’ve given him.

But you’re not that girl. You never could be.

Even if you could be locked down, you care too much about your career to give it up while he works. Little does he know you’re vying for his position if it ever opens up. You wouldn’t be so cruel to oust him, no, but if he or Gideon were to ever transfer…

But you know Aaron won’t leave. His career was the mistress that broke up his marriage, not you. He chose it over her time and time again. And he would choose it over you, too, when push comes to shove. Leave you alone when you’re swollen pregnant with his kids and he’s halfway across the country. Doesn’t sound like your idea of a good time. You almost can’t blame Hailey for wanting an end to it. Raising kids with someone like that is akin to being a single mom anyway.

Kids aren’t even something you want. If you can’t stay with a lover for longer than six months, you don’t know how you’d be able to handle an eighteen-year-long commitment, even if it was your own flesh and blood.

You’re theorizing a lot about what this man really wants from you for someone that’s never had a conversation with him about it. But you two don’t talk much. You made sure of that.

He’s not saying anything as he helps you free his cock from the confines of his dress pants, hard and leaking pre-cum already, and you look up at him where you lay crouched at the end of the bed. He’s hesitant, still.

“Touch yourself,” you say quietly, looking at him, commanding him softly.

He does what you say, bringing his left hand to wrap around the base of his cock and fisting it, giving what seems like an experimental tug, like he’s never touched himself before.

Which you know is a lie.

But you make him nervous.

He does it again, again, again, and without warning you lean forward and lick the pre-cum weeping from his tip, whimpers leaving him as he stops moving his hand.

“Did I say you should stop? No. Keep going,” you order, and he nods in agreement and starts moving his hand across his length again.

You almost wish the rest of the team could see how easily you get him to submit to you. It’s quite honestly the best part of this whole arrangement.

You watch him for a little bit, seeing how his cheeks get redder from exertion and beads of sweat start forming on his chest and neck, and he’s fluttering his eyelids closed, muttering your name under his breath, begging you to touch him and put your mouth on him again. What a sight for sore eyes. He’s not going very quickly, just steady and sure, like he does all things. Again, you meet him, tongue swirling around the tip of his cock and he’s able to keep his ministrations going until you run your tongue over the underside of his cock, meeting the edge of his hand in the process.

Both his hands fly to your hair now, and you take the hint he’s all set with the teasing. You take more of him in your mouth, feeling him settle hot and heavy against your tongue.

“Jesus Christ,” he whimpers, massaging his fingers gently through your hair. “You feel so good, so much better than my hand.”

You would certainly fucking hope so.

Leaning back a little, you let go of him, pressing hot, wet kisses along his length, leaving smears of red lipstick in your wake. When he’s wet enough for your liking, you take him in your mouth again, suppressing your gag reflux to take almost all of him. You were never much of a deepthroater, again, because it’s not fun to have a man jab the head of his penis in the back of your throat, but for Aaron, you’ll try. You can at least give him this if you can’t give him anything else he wants from you. You know he won’t try to hurt you in the search of his own pleasure.

Unlike some people.

The tears pricking your eyes are due to the feeling of his cock in your throat. Nothing else.

Aaron shouldn’t look down at you because he thinks he’ll cum right then and there. You’re bobbing your head up and down on him now, the feeling of your lips and your cheeks hollowing around him almost too much to bear. He knows he sounds desperate, wrecked, stupid, even, his voice unrecognizable to even himself as he grunts and whimpers your name, begging you, pleading with you… for what? He doesn’t know. Everything. He wants everything you can give him.

More than you’re willing to give him.

You were very good at distractions.

You’re also very good at telling when he’s about to cum, and you stop right before he was going to warn you.

“What was that for?” he asks, panting, coming down from his almost high, still feeling needy and disoriented.

“You should know by now. You’re only finishing in one place. I suffer through birth control for a reason,” you grin, letting him kiss your mouth as you travel back up to his face.

“You should know by now that I can last for more than one round,” he teases, kissing you again.

“Still have to wait for that refractory period, old man,” you retort. “And I’m not feeling patient tonight.”

“No? Neither am I, then,” he says, reaching forward to snake his hand in your panties, feeling how damp they are against his knuckles, and he inserts his index and middle fingers into you, pumping slowly, methodically, stretching you out, trying to ignore his throbbing cock. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispers.

“You can cool it with the flattery, Aaron. You don’t need to woo me. You already got me in your bed.”

“Not really a way to accept a compliment.”

“I wasn’t accepting it. Please just stop talking and get me off.”

He chuckles and shakes his head. “No, honey, look,” he says, his fingers leaving you for a moment to turn the light on all the way. Nodding toward the mirror on your left, he climbs back on the bed. “Look at yourself. See what I see.”

You don’t really see anything to gawk at. You’re just a woman with mussed hair, sitting in a lacy black bra and panties, but when his hand wedges its way between your legs again, you realize you can use this to your advantage. Fuck his bullshit, making out like he was trying to help you increase your self-esteem when ultimately, he was just using you to get off like everybody else.

But two could play that game.

Something about watching his frame envelop you, watching his fingers scissor in and out of you in the mirror, dripping wet with evidence of your arousal… well, fuck.

“See?” he murmurs, kissing your mouth, but you’re still watching the mirror, and even that is more erotic, being able to see him and feel him from all angles. “So beautiful.”

When his face disappears between your thighs you think you might cum right then and there. Seeing only his black hair, your hands fisted there, the muscles of his back and arms flexing as he holds onto your hips… Christ.

“Aaron,” you hiss as the bridge of his nose runs over your clit.

“Mm?” he asks, not bothering to stop licking at you, his voice muffled by your cunt.

“Wish you could see yourself right now, fuck,” you whine.

Aaron pulls back from your body to look at you, grinning like a goddamn psychopath as you whimper from the sudden lack of his mouth. “I like the view down here.”

“Then get back down there, you bastard,” you say, pretending to be irritated but you’re smiling, too. “You can’t see anything, anyway, dumbass.”

“Still one of my favorite pastimes,” he says, fucking his fingers into you again, causing you to buck your hips against his hand involuntarily. Taking a glance into the mirror, Aaron begins to understand why this turned you on so much. It wasn’t so much about watching himself, no, it was you from a different angle, seeing you as a whole instead of the bits and pieces he usually gleaned in the glimpses of light.

Eye contact in the mirror is somehow sexier, hotter, and more intense. Intimate. Watching you watching him watching you watching him. Hair frazzled. Skin sheen with sweat. Hands gripping onto skin and sheets. The whole picture rather than the tiny details now on display.

“So wet for me, honey. So gorgeous,” he coos, rubbing his thumb over your clit.

“Aaron—“ You start to protest, but the words die in your throat and you grit your teeth, head falling slack on the pillows behind you.

“Sorry, honey, but if you want to get off you’ll have to suffer through my compliments,” he says, grinning at you again, leaning up to kiss you, the taste of you potent on his tongue.

“Fair trade, I guess, Aaron, fuck,” you hiss, bringing your head back up to watch him as he travels back down your body, disappearing between your legs, and you think if this is all he ever wanted to do for the rest of his life (besides work, of course, neither of you could ever give that up) you would be the happiest woman alive.

Aaron can tell you’re close to your peak, your thighs squeezing his head and trembling against him, and he looks up at you briefly, saying, “Honey, you can let go.”

And you do, the coil breaks finally and you cum, gasping out his name as you pull his hair just hard enough that he grunts yours out in almost a scolding tone.

“You’re lucky I’m nicer than you,” Aaron says after kissing your mouth gently and brushing the hair out of your eyes.

“Not hard to achieve,” you say, smiling at him, letting him lean down to kiss you again. You deepen the kiss, wrap your arm around his neck, wrap your leg around his hip, and straddle him, your cunt dangerously close to his cock.

“Fuck,” he breathes into your mouth.

“Exactly,” you quip, and he chuckles.

You think these are the only times you ever see him smile.

You try not to dwell on that as you sink onto his cock. It’s easy to forget anything you were thinking about now, feeling him fill you completely, hearing him moan your name as you start fucking him.

It still amazes you how desperate he is in bed, given how restrained he is elsewhere.

You’re so close to driving yourself over the edge, Aaron meeting you thrust for thrust, the friction against your clit each time almost enough… but then he reaches for your waist, stills your movements, and flips you onto your back, and you look at him questioningly.

“Is this okay?” he asks gently.

“Yeah. It’s okay, but was that not doing it for you? Because it was working for me.”

“I just… I just wanted to be closer,” he says, leaning down to kiss you softly, setting a slow pace as he starts fucking you again. “I can’t reach you like that. I can’t kiss you. I just… I need this right now. I want to be closer. Is that okay?”

There it is, the lump in your throat returning. His eyes are looking into yours imploringly, begging you for an answer, that yes, it’s okay, yes, you understand, yes, you want this too.

You can’t find words so you just kiss him like he said he wanted, and it’s different, not being able to see his face now, making out the entire time he’s inside you, the kiss turning messier as his pace increases. Your bodies are impossibly close, god, you’ve done everything in your power to avoid missionary with this man to avoid this, his body completely enveloping yours, just inches away from putting all his weight on you.

It’s taking everything in him not to say it. Not to say he loves you. It’s all that’s running through his head right now, sweat dripping down his back, but he knows you’d rationalize it away, say it’s because he’s fucking you right now that he’s bringing this up, that when his mind is clear he won’t feel the same way.

Even hypothetically, you break his heart.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, Aaron, right there,” you whine, arching your back, drawing him out of his pity party, and he fucks into you with renewed fervor, making sure to angle his hips the exact same way each time, doing anything, anything at all to make you feel good. Predictably, you let go quickly, your cunt squeezing him as you cum, and he knows he won’t last long either, and true to form it’s a few thrusts until he’s spilling into you, slowing his hips until they still, his cock starting to grow soft inside you.

“Will you stay tonight?” Aaron asks before moving off you.

“Yes,” you nod.

“The whole night?”

“Yes, Aaron,” you say. “Why?”

“I… I want to wake up and you’re still here…. I…” His voice trails off before he can tell you why. Because he sleeps better when you stay. Because he can pretend you’re really his if you stay the whole night. Because he loves you.

“So you can fuck me again in the morning before we go in?”

He tries not to frown. Of course, he’d always want to have sex with you… but it seems like you know when he’s on the verge of a confession, on the verge of asking for something more and you always divert the conversation to sex instead.

“We’ll have to get up early,” you say, stroking his hair absentmindedly. This, you don’t mind. This, you can do. You can stay the night. You can sleep next to him, bodies still intertwined. You can kiss him good morning, tease him for his morning breath.

What you can’t do… you can’t believe he really loves you or that even if he did, a real relationship outside of the bedroom and the office would work out.

You and Aaron had a rocky start. You were transferred from a white-collar crimes unit the second a position in the BAU opened. Always an issue with authority, you antagonized him whenever you thought his decisions were wrong, which came as a shock to the rest of the team who seemed happy to fall in line. But you refused to sit idly by while a man had the audacity to be incorrect and lead his entire team down that path.

He never raised his voice, but you did.

And he wasn’t always wrong.

You still don’t know how he possesses this much restraint. You envy it, almost. Control. Self-control.

But you didn’t know that that in itself is what made his eyes wander. You were exciting, tantalizing, and stimulating. A wildcard. The arguments between the two of you meant something, unlike the same tired ones he had been having with his soon-to-be ex-wife at the time about how he was never home, how she wanted children and didn’t want to raise them alone. They were at an impasse. He wasn't with you. Even when you nauseated him back in those early days, there was always a solution to whatever issue was at hand. Unlike at home.

It was the same thing. Day in. Day out. And he thrived on predictability. It’s what keeps him centered. Or so he thought, until you came into the bullpen, guns blazing. What he wants though… he was never going to get. From either Haley… or you, it seemed.

Sighing, Aaron rolls off you to let you go to the bathroom and brush your teeth.

You didn’t even bring your own toothbrush from home. He bought you one to keep here.

He follows you into the bathroom, grabbing his own toothbrush, and the eye contact in the mirror this time is different. More poignant. Simmered down. Hollow.

“Try not to look so miserable, Aaron. I did just fuck you,” you say.

“I’m just tired,” he lies.

“Mm.”

“When are we going to have a conversation?” He asks you after spitting out toothpaste in the sink, coming over to hug you from behind, and kissing your jaw gently.

“Who needs conversations?” you tease, leaning back to grind against him.

Maybe you were getting to be predictable, too.

But he tries not to let it get to him. You’re still in his bed, wearing his shirt to sleep in, wrapped in his arms.

And you still are when the sunlight bleeds through the blinds.

———

Aaron didn’t get it at first, but now he does. You said he wasn’t the only one you were sleeping with from the get-go, not completely honest prior to getting him in bed, but after you fucked him and then he almost gained the courage to tell you he saw you as more than just a friend with benefits, you dropped that bomb.

He didn’t expect it to be this close to home.

But he understands now. Morgan would’ve been his first guess if it was anyone else on the team, but oh, was he so wrong in his heteronormative thinking.

The way you used to sidle up to Elle, smirking, flirting, giving her that look he thought was reserved just for him. He knew… All those secret glances, the way you hugged her, let her fall asleep on your shoulder on plane rides back… and it’s part of why he feels like he can’t overstep, ask you to be with him seriously. Why he can’t tell you how he feels.

Now he sees Elle, trying to keep a frown plastered on her face but she can’t help but laugh at whatever you said. You squeeze her shoulder. You act like nothing’s wrong. But he can see in the way Elle averts her eyes from you that there’s a rift between the two of you. It was never too noticeable in the field. The two of you are solid agents and you’d never let the personal get in the way of the professional. There was a decrease in the jokes and smiles you shared together, and you’d sit next to him on the plane instead of her. But other than that…It was an invisible severance of ties.

Now, though, the two of you were the only people on the floor, the only two that got sucked into paperwork this evening, and he recalls it’s been a while since both of you drew the short straw together. It didn’t use to be like that. You two would always offer together, he recalls, order Chinese takeout or pizza, take the overtime, and tell him to go home to his wife, that the two of you could handle it. That was before he started having sex with you.

Nowadays, you either stayed with Morgan, or on the off chance you’d stay with Elle, either one of you would leave early, most often Elle. You’d tell her you got it. Often Aaron would take pity on you and take half the stack despite your protests, and sometimes you’d bring your half into his office and work in silence, in tandem with him.

Fair enough. He was your rebound just as you were his.

You cup Elle’s cheek with your hand, kiss her cheek softly before moving away, and he can make out you saying “I’m sorry.”

Elle turns away, jerking her body away from your touch.

You fake a smile.

“What is wrong with you?” she says, raising her voice.

“Elle, I…”

“No. You don’t get to do this. You ended this by sleeping around.” “You said you didn’t want anything serious! And you knew you weren't the only one when we started this."

“That didn’t mean I wanted you to go fuck somebody else. Or for you to leave me out to dry after I was just in a fucking hostage situation!”

“It’s the job, Elle, you—“

“How can you be so goddamn insensitive?” she asks, eyes blazing at you. “You weren’t trapped for hours in a train car in the middle of Texas with an unsub armed with two guns! No. You were fucking somebody else. That’s what you were doing.”

“No, actually, I was working to get you out of there,” you snap back.

“Right. Reid was more instrumental in that operation than you ever could have been.”

“Why don’t you go fuck Reid then and fuck off?”

“You know what? That sounds like a good fucking idea. At least he actually cared about my well-being after the fact. You’re all set with your ex from college and your new mystery man you won’t tell me anything about.”

“Listen, Elle, you told me you were fine. I didn’t want to press it. And I haven't seen my ex in over a month."

She sets her jaw, crossing her arms over her chest. “You’re colder than some of the guys we bring in, you know that, right? What the fuck? I don’t care that we were never going to be flag wavers who came out to the whole team and put our careers and lives in danger. Sure. It was mostly for fun. But I thought you saw me as something more than just a fuckbuddy. I thought I was at least your friend. No one’s fine after that. You know that. Although I don’t know, maybe you would be. Must be nice to be so detached.”

“Elle… I’m sorry. Okay? I’m sorry. I honestly didn’t know you were struggling. I’m sorry I wasn’t there. I would’ve been there if you reached out.”

“Yeah. It’s always like that, isn’t it? You can never be the person who chases, never be the person who asks if someone needs anything from you,” she scoffs.

“Elle, I… I’m sorry.”

“You keep saying that.”

“Because I am!”

“Okay.”

“I still want to be friends.”

Elle laughs sardonically, shaking her head. “Not yet. You’ve got to give me space right now.”

“I gave you a month of space.”

“It wasn’t enough. I need some air.”

And she starts walking away in a huff, and that’s when Aaron realizes he needs to pretend he was doing anything but watching this public display of disaffection. He puts his key in the lock to his office, but you hear it in the dead silence of the building, and you look up and see him, making eye contact with him across the awning.

And your face falls. It’s not anger or sadness at the way you’re looking at him… it’s fear. He recognizes that look all too well. And it breaks his heart, to think you’d be frightened of his reaction to anything you brought to the table.

Aaron walks down the stairs over to you, and you’re trembling. “What’s the matter, honey?” he asks softly.

“Nothing. I’m okay,” you lie, blatant lies always falling from your mouth. Why couldn’t you ever just be honest with him?

“You don’t seem okay. Why don’t we go talk in my office?”

“I’m okay, Aaron. Please,” you say, but your eyes are brimming with tears as you speak. “Please just… let me work on my files. I don’t want to be here all night.”

“I don’t care about the files. I want to make sure you’re okay, and I know you’re not. Please talk to me. What’s going on with you and Elle?”

“I… how much of that did you hear?” you whisper nervously, your voice taking on a higher frequency than normal.

“It’s okay. I’m not mad.”

“But I…” You trail off, leaving what you are unspoken. Jesus, you wonder what he must think of you now. Slut. Dyke. Whore. Cunt. Bitch. Just another woman who fucked him and then fucked him over. You were waiting for the slurs to start spilling from his mouth.

It’s not like the two of you were exclusive.

But you know for him it was only you and part of you feels guilty anyway.

“I’m not mad,” he reassures you. “I could never be mad at you.”

Oh, God. There it was again. The false promises, the ones you get at the start of every relationship. Wasn’t that what Elle said to you, or some variant of that... until things got too close for comfort for you and you stepped back? Like you always do?

“I highly doubt that,” you say, trying to level your voice and fight back the tears threatening to spill over onto your cheeks.

“I don’t want to ignore this. I want you to be able to talk to me.”

“I have nothing to say,” you tell him, a little harsher than you meant to. You expect him to nod curtly at your attitude; like maybe he would have when you first started working here, walk back into his office, and call it a night.

But he doesn’t walk away. He steps forward and wraps you in a hug that you don’t return, your arms still crossed over your chest against his body. His lips press against the top of your head and you hate this, you feel claustrophobic wrapped in his embrace, and you wish you could be normal, that you didn’t fuck up everything good you ever had.

But he’d be another one on a long list.

“Honey… I don’t care if you’ve been with women. I knew about this before, anyway, or suspected the two of you were together. If that’s what you think the issue is, I want you to know it doesn’t bother me at all. It shouldn’t bother anyone. I’m sorry I had to find out this way instead of you telling me on your own terms, but I… I still care about you. This didn’t change anything for me. Okay?” Part of you wants to psychoanalyze his statement, tear it to pieces, and make him an asshole for saying it. Because…no, it shouldn’t need to be said. He’s not a hero for this. It should be a given, that whoever you’re with would accept who you are. But you’ve had past men you’ve been with be bullies, terrorize you for it, make you feel like a whore, dirty... like you’re less of a woman for it. Projecting all their insecurities on you.

And for a man as traditional and reserved as Aaron… you somewhat expected him to be the same way if he ever found out. At the very least you expected him to call things off, and ask for some space. It’s a relief and a burden at the same time that he didn’t. You’re glad he’s accepting and it means there’s one less bigot in the world, but now it’s so much harder to villainize him or to make yourself believe he only sees you as a recurring one-night stand.

“Please talk to me,” he begs, pulling away from the hug to look at your face.

“What is there to say, Aaron? You caught me. I’m a whore.”

“Don’t talk about yourself like that,” he scolds. “I’m not mad about that, either. It’s not like we ever really discussed what we were.”

“Jesus, Aaron, what’s it going to take for you to hate me?” you ask, shaking your head. “I refuse to believe you’re this much of a pushover after Haley.”

He stiffens a little at the mention of her name, but he nods. “Why would I hate you? Anyway… yes. She cheated on me. But she had my last name and my ring on her finger. It’s a little different than… whatever it is we’re doing. We didn’t put labels on this. You told me you were still seeing somebody else. I knew there was…overlap. We never talk about what it is, and what we want from each other. Hailey and I were far past that point and she betrayed my trust.”

You hate how courteous he is about this, how he’s refusing to put any blame on you at all. You almost wish he would scream at you. At least that you know how to deal with.

“I told Elle,” you say quickly. “About us. Or… well… not us. Not that it’s you. But that I’ve been sleeping with someone else. I told her a month ago, probably two months later than I should have. And I never told you about her… because… I hadn’t been seeing her as much since we started sleeping together, either, Aaron… and I didn’t know how you would take this.”

“I told you. I’m not mad,” he says. “It’s okay. Everything’s still okay. Please. You can still come home with me tonight.”

You frown, and shake your head. “It’s been every night this week.”

“Did I wear you out, yet?” he asks, smiling a little more suggestively than usual.

You smirk devilishly, finally returning to your natural self. “You know you never could.”

“Then, please. I’ll take half your stack and we can head to my place after. I still want you.” Aaron punctuates his statement with a kiss to your forehead.

—————-

And so you let him take you home, your place this time, you let him kiss you, tangle his hands in your hair, you let him tell you how gorgeous he thinks you are without a mirror on the side of the bed to prove it.

You let him tell you he loves you without stopping him this time before he gets there. But you don’t say anything back.

You like him. You do. He makes you laugh, he’s handsome, and you know he would treat you well. He has, so far, and you’re not even dating.

But he’s too good for you. One girlfriend before you, who he married. No flings to speak of. He always tried to be perfect, color in the lines of what a stereotypical man should be in this day and age, although you did appreciate he was never boastful about it. Strong yet caring. Stern yet soft-spoken. Intelligent, but he knew his limits.

You weren’t like what men thought women should be. You certainly never fit into that mold.

He stops fucking you, stills inside you.

“Please say something. Did you hear me?” he asks you.

“What?”

“I said, ‘I love you’”.

“No, you don’t, Aaron. Stop it,” you say.

“When are we going to have a conversation?”

“Not now,” you say.

“Then when?” he asks, searching your eyes for something more than your words were giving him.

“Not when you’re fucking me. Jesus Christ. Way to kill the mood, Aaron,” you say, trying to come off like you were teasing.

But he’s not taking the bait today.

“It doesn’t kill the mood for me,” he says quietly.

“Aaron, please,” you say, trying to thrust up against him.

He ignores you. Now he knows his only chance to get you to listen to him is if you’re in bed with him. Now that he knows your track record from what he gleaned from your conversation with Elle. “Remember when we had that case that looked like a satanic ritual attack? And you told me I was stupid to go after that heavy metal kid because you used to be into that, and you went on a whole tangent about how I needed to learn the difference between profiling and stereotyping?”

“Mm.”

“And you were right.”

“Yes. I was.”

“And I just… I don’t know. I love that you’ll speak your mind. I love that you’ll call me out when I’m wrong. I love that you’re not afraid to be a little… hostile to get your point across when you know you’re right. That you’re subversive. That you’re also… kind when the situation calls for it. That you’re witty. That you’re so, so, so intelligent and gorgeous and…. I’m not good with words or emotions. I know you’re not either. But believe me. Believe me when I tell you I love you because… I really do. And I want this to be something else. Something more. I want us to be exclusive. I don’t want… I don’t want you to be afraid and push me away like you’ve done with other people in the past.”

“Aaron. Your cock is in me right now. You’re not thinking straight,” you say, teasing again, kissing him, but he breaks away.

“Can you be honest with me? Please? Like I was just honest with you. What do you want from this?”

“This. This is what I want,” you answer.

“Just sex?”

“I don’t know. We’re friends, Aaron. We get along… for the most part. What will really be so different if you call me your girlfriend?”

“What do you think will be so different that you’re so against it?” he asks.

You sigh. “Things are good right now. Aren’t they?”

“They are, but I want more from you.”

“What more could I possibly give you, Aaron? I fuck you almost on the daily. When you were happily married, did you get that?”

“I wasn’t happily married,” he sighs.

“Exactly. That’s an oxymoron. It won’t be any different with me.”

“I think it would be. You’re not a choice I’m making at seventeen.”

“Aaron, stop it. I’m still just a woman.”

“You’re the woman I want. I want to be with you. It’s… yes. The sex is great. I’m not complaining. But I… I want to be able to take you out to dinner. Go for runs with you. Be the only one you sleep with.”

“So it is about that. It does bother you.”

“No. It didn’t.”

“But it does now.”

“I don’t have to be mad at you for it to bother me. Like I said. It was never anything we discussed until now.”

“Yeah. Now that we’re discussing it, do you feel better? Because I don’t,” you snap.

“Honey… it’s been killing me. Keeping it secret, close to my chest.”

“If you really cared about me, you would move,” you say, trying to bring levity back into the situation and get him to fuck you again as you roll your hips up against his.

“Okay,” he says solemnly, pulling out of you, and searching the floor for his boxers.

“Where are you going?” you ask.

“I can’t… I can’t keep doing this, having you close but not as close as I want you, knowing you don’t feel the same way or want the same things. I held on too long for something I was never going to get with Haley. I can’t do it with you, too.”

You don’t say anything. You stay there, naked in the center of your bed, and you watch him get dressed, and you watch him leave your bedroom. You meet his hollow-eyed gaze. You don’t say a word.

You know it’s over.

It takes a lot of strength for Aaron to exit your apartment.

But he finds it anyway.

——————

You’re talking to Reid enthusiastically about the book series the two of you were reading. Or rather, that you were catching up on that Reid had already finished.

That was another thing Aaron loved about you, how you seemed to be one of the only members on the team that actively sought out Reid’s eccentricities and special interests. In fact, he may have been the only member you hadn’t had choice words with at one point.

You could be gentle when you wanted to be.

He knows he shouldn’t be looking at you. He should be avoiding you unless it’s absolutely necessary to be in your presence. But it was so very hard to ignore you, even if you did break his heart for good this time.

There’s another person who’s watching you.

Elle.

It’s hard for Aaron to read Elle, sometimes, too. She comes off reserved. Uncaring. He wouldn’t have thought the hostage situation bothered her as much as she claimed it had with you the other day either.

No one in this room is good at dealing with emotions. Compartmentalization? Everyone could teach a class on that. It’s what you studied, being profilers, people that hid away the depraved parts of their psyche to be able to function as members of society. So it only made sense that the rest of you would fall in line with that, albeit maybe not to that degree. Refuse to discuss anything that bothers you, though. Relive nightmares over and over again. Tell no one.

He’s tired of it.

“Elle, I need to speak with you,” Aaron says softly. “In my office.”

“Something wrong?” She asks, averting her gaze from you.

“I just need to speak with you,” he says, leading her up the stairs and unlocking the door of his office, and letting her follow him in. “You and her… you two were…”

“What?” she asks, already on edge.

“Together,” he says stiffly.

“As in?”

“Dating.”

Elle laughs sardonically, biting her nail anxiously. “No.”

“I’m not mad or upset. Whatever you tell me is held in strict confidence here. For both of your safeties,” he assures her gently.

“I said no. I meant no.”

“Then…?”

“Why do you care, Hotch? It’s not going to affect my work.”

“I just… I want to know.”

“For your own curiosity?” she asks, crossing her arms over her chest.

Aaron doesn’t know what to say. He doesn’t want to put Elle in a precarious position, make her not only come out of the closet but also admit that she slept with you. But he needs to know where he stands.

Well. Takes one to know one.

“Wait a second. Son of a bitch. It was you,” she says quietly, realization visibly dawning on her. “You’re the man. You’re the one she told me she was sleeping with. There’s no other reason you’d pull me aside like this. Wow, she likes to keep it a little too close for comfort, huh? Maybe she’s trying to sleep with the whole unit.”

“Don’t talk about her like that,” he says firmly.

Elle shrugs. “It’s not anything bad. If that’s what she wants to do, she should have at it. We both know she could score. She’d definitely give Reid a good time.”

“Stop it,” he scolds.

“You can’t tell me I’m being unprofessional. You pulled me, your subordinate, in here to talk about how you’re in love with her.”

“Excuse me?” he asks firmly.

“God, Hotch, it’s nauseating. It’s all Morgan and Garcia talk about. It’s very obvious. You’re not exactly subtle. I didn’t know you were getting any, though. Good for you, I guess. That’s about as far as you’ll get with her.”

“What do you mean?” he asks, furrowing his brow.

But he knows exactly what she means.

“She’s distant, right? Cold, even. I thought maybe it was because she didn’t want to come out with a sign that says she sleeps with women, which, fair enough. Lots of reasons to stay closeted in this day and age. I’m not exactly a flag waver myself. I knew I wasn’t going to be walking down an aisle to her someday. Still didn’t mean it didn’t hurt that whenever I asked her anywhere besides my bedroom she flaked. Eventually, I got sick of it. It’s whatever. I wasn’t under any real delusions about what we were. I just got a little pissed and told her off. I was stressed because of the job and I took it out on her. We all do it. We’ll still be friends. I just want to play the game a little longer and ice her out.”

“Do you… want her?”

“No. Not anymore. I’m not as lovesick as you are. You can try to go for her. Like I said. Don’t think you’ll get farther than you have. Are we done here, or am I getting paid extra to give you a therapy session?”

“We’re done here. Cool it with the attitude.”

“Why? You let her talk to you however she wants.”

“Agent,” he says warningly.

“Right. You’re not in love with me. Special privileges,” she says, rolling her eyes.

“Not a word of this to the rest of the team.”

“Yeah, no worries, Hotch,” she says, smirking and nodding. “I think surprisingly I’d have more to lose than you if it got out.”

Meanwhile, you had sat at the desk across from Morgan, thanking him for running coffee duty.

“What do you think that’s about?” Morgan asks you. “Hotch and Elle.”

“Don’t know, don’t care,” you lie, sipping at your coffee, wondering vaguely if they're swapping stories about how much of a bitch you are. “You ever think you’ll settle down?”

“Why are you asking me that? You’re more of a player than me.”

You roll your eyes at him. “Jealous?”

“Not in the slightest. Your life is messy and I don’t even know the half of it. Wish you would sleep with the boss man, though. Man’s lovesick.”

You wince a little. “Who? Gideon?”

“Yeah,” Morgan replies sarcastically, then drops his voice lower, “I’m telling you. Hotch would drop anything in a heartbeat if he had one second with you.”

“He had more than that.”

“You’re kidding me,” Morgan says, leaning back in his chair. “Okay. Then why does he still look at you like he didn’t?”

“Because I don’t want to be the next Mrs. Hotchner.”

“He had one girlfriend his whole life and he married her. And look at him. He’s not a player like us. You can’t fuck with him like that.”

“He’s a grown man. He knew what he was getting into.”

“Did you?” he asks. “Because I think somewhere in that cold, bitchy heart you love him, too. Can Hotshot Hotchner do it? Tame this femme-fatale?”

“You’re not funny, Morgan.”

Morgan shrugs. “I think if anyone could tame you it would be him. He’d certainly be the only one willing to put in the effort to.”

“Nope. He left like they all do,” you counter.

“Because you let him.”

Because you let him.

You didn’t even try to stop him.

These things were true. What was Aaron supposed to do with that?

————

All you taste is blood. The metallic-tinged liquid in your throat, your back pressed against the car, and you had your arms up to block the perpetrator but he got the best of you anyway. It’s a swift kick to the stomach and you bend over, the wind knocked out of you, and you’re spitting up blood, seeing it bright red and viscous on the grass in front of you. Your lungs burn, and your head aches, but the adrenaline coursing through you is enough to overpower that and to give you the strength to knee him in the balls, hard, and he keels over, groaning in pain. Morgan takes the opportunity to pull his hands behind his back and snap the handcuffs on him while you fall to your knees, leaning against the car for support as you struggle to catch your breath, still swallowing blood, wincing at the taste in the back of your throat.

It was your mouth that got you in trouble again, predictably. At least if nothing else you proved he had a temper and was easily provoked. You expect Gideon to chew you out later anyway. Aaron was still avoiding you like the plague.

“Can you hear me?” A voice asks, coming from above you, soft yet distinctly masculine and you realize it’s Aaron. What?

You nod, chest heaving, but you can’t speak even if you tried.

You feel him loosen the buttons of your shirt at your throat, rubbing your back soothingly. “Just breathe. It’s okay. You’re okay. You did well. Good. Just like that. Can you walk?”

You try to push yourself off the car and take a few steps, but your legs give out and you fall back into his arms, the adrenaline that was pushing you a second ago gone now that you weren’t being attacked anymore.

“Hey, hey, hey, easy,” he says gently, supporting your weight. “I’m going to get you to a hospital.”

“I don’t need…” you manage to rasp out, shaking your head.

“Shh. Shh. If you never let me use my authority for anything else again I’d be fine with it as long as you let me use it here. You’re going to the hospital.”

Calling an ambulance, he clears out the rest of the scene, letting the other members of the team go back to the office with the perpetrator, checking in with you at what feels like five-second intervals.

“I’m okay, Aaron. Really. I got kicked in the stomach. I’m fine,” you say when you can catch your breath.

“You could have a broken rib. Or nose. You’re still bleeding,” he points out, using the sleeve of his dress shirt to wipe the blood still dripping from your face.

“I think I would’ve heard either of those.”

“What if you lose too much blood? Hm?”

“From a nosebleed?” you question.

“It could happen.”

“Why are you… why are you acting like you care?”

“Acting?” Aaron asks, then shrugs. “It’s not acting.”

“You didn’t have to stay with me.”

“I wanted to.”

“Why? You could’ve made anyone else stay with me.”

“I wanted to be the one to make sure you’re okay,” he says, taking of his blazer, unbuttoning his dress shirt and handing it to you, leaving him in just his white undershirt. “You need to keep pressure on that. Stop the bleeding. Here.”

“Aaron… why? This isn’t just routine. Reid got hurt the other day and you didn’t—"

“Because I still love you,” he says quickly, looking you in the eyes. “It doesn’t just go away. I thought… I don’t know. I don’t know what I thought I was going to achieve by leaving that night. It hurts either way.”

“If it’s any consolation, I miss you,” you say quietly.

“I have two questions, then,” he says, exhaling, deciding to take a chance. There was nothing more to lose.

“Yeah. What?”

“You miss me? Or the sex?”

“Can’t it be both?” you ask sheepishly, blushing a little.

“I suppose.”

“What’s your second question?”

“You miss me? You don’t love me?”

“Aaron,” you say, moving his shirt away from your nose. “That’s not a fair question. I don’t know if I’ve ever loved anyone.”

“Why did you let me leave?” he asks.

“I didn’t agree to a third question.”

“Just answer me,” he says, exasperated.

“You were going to leave anyway, Aaron. We don’t want the same things. I don’t want to get married, and give up my career to raise your children.”

He shakes his head, looking at you incredulously. “Where in the world did you get the idea that either of those things were what I wanted from you?”

“You were married and it didn’t work out, you’re older, you—“

“See what happens when you refuse to talk about things?” he says, laughing a little. “Yes. I wanted a wife and a family. And I had a wife and the chance of having a family and… it fell apart. And in the aftermath of it all, there was you. I was never asking to tie you down and make you feel trapped. I’m not asking for you to have children if that’s not something you want. I’m certainly not asking you to give up your career for me while I work. You aren’t what I thought I wanted. You would’ve… you would’ve terrified me if I met you two decades ago. But you meet me where I’m at now, and that’s what matters.”

“I would’ve terrified you?” you tease.

“You do, now, too,” he grins. “A little. But in a good way.”

“Did you actually call this ambulance?” you ask.

“You know they take forever to get anywhere,” Aaron says, looking at you concernedly. “Why? Anything new hurt?”

“I’m fine, Aaron,” you say, rolling your eyes at him. “I would’ve been fine with an urgent care.”

“Forgive me for being cautious.”

“Forgive me for letting you leave,” you say, your heart threatening to beat out of your chest.

“I already did,” he responds quietly, reaching for your hand and squeezing it gently.

“What… what do you want from me, then? Because I… I don’t understand. I’m argumentative, divisive, and hostile. I don’t know the meaning of restraint. I don’t—"

Aaron shakes his head and kisses you, then pulls away, looking down at you and grinning as the red and blue lights from the ambulance arriving start to illuminate you in the dark. “You taste like blood.”

You laugh more than you should have at that, your sides aching as you do. “You really are a profiler, huh?”

“Some might even say a good one.”

“What do you want—"

“I don’t want you to change. I want you to still call me out when I’m wrong. I want you to argue with me like you always used to. I never want you to feel like you need to hold back, act differently, or be somebody else. All those things you listed… I love about you. I just want you to be with me like I told you. Go out to dinners and breakfasts with me. Cook with me in my kitchen. Have wine outside with me in the summer. Go for runs with me. Drag me to Taylor Swift concerts with you. I don’t care. I want it with you.”

The paramedics exit the ambulance before you can respond, and they’re helping you onto the stretcher and taking your blood pressure, and asking you what happened, and it’s not until you walked the few steps to the stretcher that you realized how much that son of a bitch really got you. Maybe Aaron was right to be this worried.

Not that you’d tell him that.

They leave you in the emergency room to wait, as they’ve deemed you non-emergent amid the heart attacks, strokes, and overdoses being wheeled in. You’re breathing. Which is good. Your nose stopped bleeding. Which is also good. Your oxygen level is normal, which means you didn’t puncture a lung with a broken rib, which is excellent.

Now that you’re alone again, or, rather, without an audience of paramedics, you look at him, drinking him in again, letting yourself look at him for the first time in weeks. Broad shoulders, dark hair, large hands. Calm demeanor, even here. Strong. Commanding. Yeah. As much as you were a man's nightmare, he was a woman's dream.

“What you want doesn’t sound half bad,” you admit.

“Why would I want to trap someone I love in a situation where I knew they’d be miserable? I know you value your freedom and your career. I would never ask you to compromise that for me. I just… I needed to step back because you would never even let me speak. You never let me take you out. You only let me take you home. And it… it hurt, honey. But I still love you.”

You wince. “I don’t know how to be in a relationship. I don’t know how to love. I’m broken.”

“That’s the thing I don’t understand. You’re always putting yourself down. Why do you think you don’t deserve this? That you don’t deserve to be happy?”

“I don’t know, Aaron. I’ve never seen a happy ending. For me or anyone else.”

“That doesn’t mean you should never try. And it doesn’t mean we can’t be happy now.”

“But it will hurt—"

“It will hurt anyway,” he reminds you. “These past few weeks have been hell.”

They haven’t been fun. He isn’t wrong.

“I’m not the easiest person to love.”

“Neither am I,” he admits. “I know I don’t bring a lot to the table. But I love you. And… Christ, it doesn’t take a profiler to see you’ve been damaged by somebody. I don’t blame you for living the way you have been, switching people out, and toying with people like you must have been toyed with on a larger scale. I don’t need to know the details if you’re not ready to share them with me. But whenever you feel like you’re ready, let me know. I want to listen.”

“Aaron,” you mutter. “Why can’t I just be fucked up?”

“You could be. But I don’t believe that’s the case.”

You don't say anything for a moment, leaning your head against his shoulder, listening to the idle chatter of everyone else in the emergency department waiting room. Kids crying, grown men screaming, and nurses talking calmly to patients. And then you focus in again on Aaron, listening to the steady rhythm of his breath, smelling the warm spice of his cologne against his neck, feeling the heat from his skin against yours.

And you think... maybe. Maybe. Maybe.

The journey was hell. But it brought you here.

"Okay," you say, with strengthened resolve. "I can't promise anything, but..."

-----

taglist @mrs-ssa-hotchner @mechformers @agentrose17

#Aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x reader smut #aaron hotch x reader #Aaron Hotchner #hotchner x reader #hotch x reader #hotch x reader smut

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ssahotstuff · 2 years

Text

Aaron Hotchner Playlist Collection 💕

Aaron Hotchner x Fem!BAU Reader

FIRST IN THE PLAYLIST FIC COLLECTION 💕

I can dream about you by Dan Hartman found here

All of these are inspired by songs in my playlist that remind me of Hotch heheheh enjoy my loves 🥰

These are all stand-alone and not part of any new series!

Warnings: A brief scene of violence to the main character! But no real serious injury, happy ending still, mentions of infidelity, (Haley was having an affair in this scenario), feelings for a married man (oops we aren't really sorry) smut, penetration, unprotected sex (wrap it up) oral Fem receiving, fingering, cursing

Word count: 4.9k

Truthfully, you hadn't done anything wrong other than pine over a married man. Not only was he your boss, but he was way out of your league. He was your partner in the field for over a year now, and you knew for a fact that he had your back in every way possible.

Except for when it came to Haley.

"Their divorce was finalized this morning. That's why he's late," JJ informed you after one too many glances at his closed office door. After he found out about Haley's infidelities, he served her papers and no one questioned him. You were there for him as much as you could be, you all were, but he wasn't the type of man to just let you all in. He was lonely in his melancholy, and he preferred it that way.

"I hope he's okay," Spencer said immediately after, spinning around in his chair. It was a paper work day, and it was nearing its final hour of torture. For the most part, you were all waiting around to see if Hotch showed after court or not. You'd finished your paperwork an hour earlier, and now you were all waiting, speculating on the private life of your Supervising agent.

"He'll be fine. He knew Haley was up to something when she went to stay with her sister," JJ assured everyone, and it was true. None of you had missed his tear stained face the day he found out, and he'd been sleeping in his office ever since. No one asked, but slowly over the last few weeks he'd begun to open up and explain what was going on. You all felt horrible for him, but he was a hard man to comfort.

You'd had a small crush on him from your first day at the BAU, but the gold wedding band on his finger had been your bright red stop sign from doing anything beyond secretly admiring him. When the day came that his ring was no longer on his finger, you felt slightly less guilty for staring a fraction too long, or standing a little too close when you got the chance. If he'd ever suspected anything beyond the two of you being partners, he didn't let it show.

JJ and Spencer were the only two team members to know about your crush, and for obvious reasons. They were two of your closest friends, and when it came to romance, JJ was the most perceptive person you knew. Spencer was a bit more obvious when he called you out but you convinced him it was silly and to let it go. He voiced how he felt about it much more strongly after Hotch filed for divorce.

"Why don't you just talk to him? He served her, not the other way around," it was cold and the coffee in your hands did you no favors in warming you. Spencer had roped you into trying a new coffee shop out around the corner from the Academy the day Hotch announced he'd filed for divorce.

"Spencer, it's still too soon. Maybe in a year—"

"A year?!"

You shushed him when people started making off glances in your direction, chuckling at how unsubtle he could be sometimes.

"Maybe I'll just let him come to me. I'd never want to push any of his buttons. He's my partner," you reminded him, and Spencer nodded, sighing deeply.

"You don't think you'll feel differently a year from now?"

You shook your head, knowing just how deep Hotch's claws were sank into you, and he hadn't even had to try. In some forbidden way, you'd been bound to him since the day you'd met him, and you'd protect him and his heart with your life if given the opportunity.

But something had shifted when you came back from the coffee shop and joined the others. Hotch had turned cold towards you, and it happened sooner than you had time to prepare. It had given you whiplash, because normally he was your friend first, and your superior second, despite how he was with everyone else. He had an obvious soft spot for you, but that had all changed dramatically with no time for you to brace yourself for impact.

Instead, you'd been stuck in limbo, waiting on him to come back to normal. It hurt more than anything, because his entire attitude had changed. He'd never meet your eyes, almost as if there was some sort of anger towards you festering behind them, and if he made contact with you, it would bubble to the surface.

He'd starting avoiding you in the field as well, sending you with Reid or sometimes even Morgan, but never with him. You tried not to let the sting bother you, but everyone else saw it too, even if they didn't call Hotch out on his sudden change in behavior.

"Here he comes," Spencer whispered, and the three of you tried your hardest to look lost in conversation with each other so he didn't pick up on the fact that you were all waiting to see how he was doing. He didn't greet any of you, simply climbed the stairs to his office and slammed the door behind him.

"I'm assuming we should probably leave him alone for now," you told the others, volunteering JJ to deliver your reports to him while you and Spencer gathered your things and got ready to leave. When JJ joined you again, there was someone trailing shortly behind her, but they'd came from the opposite direction.

"Where is she?!"

You turned on your heel, Haley Hotchner red in the face and storming straight for you. Her hand made contact with your cheek, causing everyone in the room to gasp in shock. Before she could hit you again, JJ rushed forward and stepped between the two of you. You were more than confused, considering you'd only met her once before at a party that Rossi had hosted.

"That's for stealing my husband, you bitch!"

Spencer could only stand idle and watch the events unfold, too nervous to step in. You couldn't blame him, because you certainly hadn't signed up to be the target of Haley's fury.

"Haley, she hasn't done anything. You need to calm down," JJ rationalized, but the tears streaming down Haley's face said otherwise.

"No, right before Aaron filed, he was moaning her name in his sleep! Her name! How do you think I figured it all out, Y/n?!"

You shook your head, trying to explain that there was nothing going on between the two of you, but she refused to listen. Instead, she lunged forward again, so you took a cautious step back and dodged her just in time.

"Listen, Haley. Because of the respect I have for your ex husband, I refuse to entertain this. There's nothing going on between me and Hotch. I don't know why he said my name in his sleep, but from what I've heard, you aren't innocent at all, and if you want to leave with your dignity in tact, you should probably do it now," you tried your best to sound confident, your head held high despite the burning in your cheek, and the rage bubbling inside of you. How dare she come into your place of work and embarrass you over something Hotch said in his sleep.

"No, it happened more than once. I'm not stupid, despite what Aaron may be convinced of," you glanced towards his office door, which was still closed. He'd managed to miss all of the commotion.

"If you want to be mad at me, then fine. Be mad. But I haven't done anything wrong, and I'm leaving for the day," you pushed past her and walked with haste to the elevator, Spencer and JJ calling out to you to wait on them, but you pretended not to hear. Once the doors shut behind you, you let the tears fall. You had no one to hide from now that you were alone, and despite the fact that you knew there was nothing going on with the two of you, you felt guilty.

You'd developed feelings for a married man, and even though he was freshly divorced, it wasn't right. You had no idea what was going through Hotch's head at night, but surely it shouldn't have been the youngest, newest member of the team. It should have been his wife, and that's why she was so angry.

You managed to make it to the parking garage unnoticed by anyone else, quickly clambering into your car so you could check the damage. Her nail had left a nasty mark just below your eye, dried blood just beginning to coagulate. You took a wet wipe and tried your best to clean it up, removing most of your tear stained makeup in the process. A light tap at your window made you jump and your blood boil all at the same time, because Haley had followed you.

"I want to apologize!"

"Then do it through the glass. You're not hitting me again," you spat, watching the teary eyed woman carefully. She seemed sincere, but you still didn't trust her intentions.

"JJ told me you and Aaron are partners. I know how easy he is to fall for—"

You put your hand up and flung the door open, because nothing about what she was saying sounded like an apology.

"Stop. You're not going to sit here and try to trick me into telling you something that isn't true. He's my partner, Haley. I have his back, and vice versa. That's it."

Her shoulders fell, and she sighed, hands on her hips. Any other time, you would have been curious to know about Aaron's high school sweetheart. Now, you wanted nothing but to get away from her.

"It doesn't matter anymore. We're divorced," she reminded me, pointing to her naked ring finger.

"That doesn't change the fact that there's nothing going on between Hotch and me," you retorted, dismissing her with a wave of your hand so you could climb back into your car. She let you leave without a fuss, so you sped off, dialing JJ's number as soon as you'd pulled out.

"Are you okay?!"

"I'm fine, JJ. I just need a drink, or three. What are you and Spencer doing?"

You could hear commotion in the background, but it didn't sound like they were still in the office.

"Hotch hasn't called you? He invited everyone out to dinner to celebrate signing his divorce papers," she said flatly, and you rolled your eyes. He probably didn't even know about Haley showing up and causing a scene.

"I'll pass anyway. You guys go have fun. I'll see you tomorrow."

Hotch had single-handedly ruined your day without trying. Haley had blamed you for their divorce, and he was celebrating. You assumed he had just forgotten to call, or figured JJ would say something about it, but 3 months ago, he stopped calling you for anything, and that had hurt more than you'd ever let show. You didn't let the way you protected him change, and it didn't affect your professionalism, but it hurt what you thought was a halfway genuine friendship.

The walls of your apartment seemed emptier than ever, so you showered off the stress of the day and tried to make the most of your solitude. You'd barely finished an episode of your favorite show when your phone was ringing, Hotch's name flying across the screen.

"What?"

You normally wouldn't have been so abrasive, but he was the last person you wanted to talk to.

"You didn't come tonight," he shot back immediately, oblivious to the drama the day had held for you.

"Didn't feel like celebrating," you deadpanned, trying your best to get him to just hang up the phone and leave you alone.

"Are.. Are you alright?"

"Fine, Hotch. I was just going to bed."

"We'll see you tomorrow then. Goodnight, Y/n."

You hung up the phone without responding. He had no fucking clue.

✨✨✨

"Did you call her?"

JJ's voice cut through my thoughts. Y/n had hung up on me, which was unusual for her. Her mood was definitely off, which was upsetting because I'd been looking forward to seeing her the most.

"She was heading to bed," I replied, JJ and Spencer exchanging an awkward glance before JJ turned her attention back towards me.

"She's probably not too happy about the fact that your ex wife assaulted her in the office today," JJ said, slowly, carefully, as if she wasn't sure if she should tell me or not. Spencer cleared his throat, the two of them refusing to meet what I'm sure was an icy glare on my face.

"What?"

I couldn't hide the stunned expression on my face as Rossi and Morgan joined us. I immediately tried calling her back only to be greeted by her voicemail.

"Haley hit her?"

Spencer nodded, his head hung low. I wouldn't have felt like celebrating either if I was her. A pang of guilt crept over me like a dark cloud on my good night, because I knew exactly why Haley had shown that particular side of herself, and it was nothing Y/n had done wrong.

"JJ came between them before it got really bad, but Haley followed her out," Spencer said, sipping his cream soda, trying to stay as neutral as possible. The situation with Haley and I had been a delicate one, but ultimately our marriage had ended because she couldn't remain faithful.

"I should go to her apartment," I hadn't meant to say it out loud, but the silence that followed made me hesitant.

"Maybe let her calm down," Morgan suggested, but I was already giving Rossi the go ahead to continue the night without me and excusing myself. I still couldn't believe that Haley had physically hurt her, and it was all because of me.

The drive to her house was short, my palms sweaty and my stomach in knots. I had no clue what I was even going to say, if she even answered the door. I knocked softly, hearing the swift padding of her feet coming to the door. She didn't look happy to see me at all, and there was a scratch across the length of her fact that hadn't been there the day before.

"What are you doing here?"

"Can I not come in?"

She shut the door behind her before she joined me in the hall, her arms crossed over her chest.

"What do you want, Hotch?"

She seemed exasperated, flustered even. It had me completely thrown, because she was normally so composed.

"I heard about what happened with Haley and I wanted to explain myself."

She shook her head, trying to dismiss the conversation.

"It's fine. You don't have to say anything," she assured me, hand already on her door so she could retreat away from me.

"She hit you, Y/n. You have every right to be upset, because I'm upset too," she didn't try to hide the tears that fell from her eyes, and in that moment I felt more helpless than ever. I had unintentionally hurt the one person I'd tried to shelter from my crumbling home life.

"She blames me."

"That's because I... I had a dream about you, the night I found out about her affair. I was saying your name, and she wasn't too happy about it, so she assumed that's why I filed. She didn't know I even knew about the affair. I didn't tell her until today," I said finally, most of it coming out in a frantic jumble of words.

"She's convinced it's more than that," she muttered, leaning against the wall. She wouldn't meet my eyes, but I knew she was more upset than she was letting on.

"Maybe she's right."

✨✨✨

You weren't sure you heard him correctly until he closed the distance between the two of you so he could stand with his back to the wall next to you, his shoulders parallel with yours. He sighed heavily, crossing his arms over his broad chest.

"I know it's wrong. As soon as I knew Haley had an affair, I couldn't help it. The feelings came whether I wanted them to or not. I hope you aren't angry with me, even though you have every right to be."

You chuckled at him, your frown disappearing for the first time all afternoon.

"I don't know who should apologize here because I... I feel things for you too, Hotch. I have since my first day. I never said anything, obviously, but it hasn't been very subtle, and I'm sorry for that. If I caused problems with you and Haley, I didn't mean to."

"It wasn't you. I didn't know you felt anything towards me until now," he said after a moment, letting his arms fall to his sides. You certainly hadn't expected to see him this late, but he was here instead of celebrating, and that had to count for something.

"Do you want to come in?" It was bold of you, and you knew it, but you were curious to know what Hotch had been thinking about you in order for you to be invading his dreams.

"I thought you were going to bed?"

You rolled your eyes, opening the door and letting him follow you inside. You told him to have a seat on the couch while you excused yourself to make the two of you a cup of coffee. By the time you'd joined him, his back was turned away from you, and he was examining the walls of your home.

"You're a lot more impressive than I realized," he breathed, pointing to all of your certificates and diplomas on the wall. You had taken several independent courses, earning certificates and awards in just about everything you'd ever taken an interest in.

"I like having back up plans," you giggled, the broad array of subjects not just related to criminal justice.

"But you're great at what you do," Hotch countered, causing you to shrug. You enjoyed your job, but you weren't sure that you wanted the BAU forever, especially considering your partner had been acting weird for months.

"But eventually I want a family and something that at least resembles normal, and this isn't it," you replied, handing Hotch his mug and sipping from your own.

"You'll tell me before you decide to leave, right?"

You promised him that you weren't going anywhere anytime soon, and that eased some of his worries. You sat on the couch, hoping he would join you, and he did almost immediately, sitting down near the middle so he was close to you.

"You gonna tell me what you dreamed about?" He smirked at you from behind his mug but it was impossible to miss. He was back to his normal self for the most part; he was being more friendly with you now than he had been in months.

"I don't know if that's a good idea," his cheeks flushed with color, and it took you a minute to realize he was embarrassed, and you could easily guess why.

"Come on, Hotch. It's just me," you reminded him, and he sat back, his arm resting against your shoulders on the back of the couch. It was no different than when he'd do it on the plane, just to stretch out, but it felt different, almost as if he'd done it in an attempt just to be closer to you. Your suspicions were confirmed when his fingers started to toy with your hair, twirling it absentmindedly through his fingers. You'd never been so close to him, and with his divorce finalized, there was nothing holding him back now. You were curious if that's why his behavior had changed; he needed to keep his distance until it was actually over, or else Haley would have just used it against him.

"I had you on my desk. You told me you had a bad day and asked if I'd help," he whispered, his voice trembling slightly. You'd never heard him nervous like this, so you took his free hand in yours, letting his massive palm wrap around yours.

"Did you help me?"

"You begged me to. I couldn't tell you no," he defended, his grip on your shoulders tightening. You didn't miss the growing bulge in his sleek black slacks, causing them to tighten considerably. You were filled with questions about his filthy dream starring you, and at the most taboo place of all. You wondered how many times since then had he sat at his desk, imagining you were on top of it.

"What a gentleman," you chuckled, tossing one of your legs lazily over his lap. He reached for you instantly, hand darting out to caress your bare leg. It sent shivers all over you as he gently massaged the tender flesh of your upper thighs.

"You were impossible to resist. You just needed me so badly," he breathed, his fingers tugging your face to meet his. You were mesmerized by the golden flecks dancing in his dark eyes, increasingly aware of his lips closing the gap between yours. Once his mouth was on yours, it was feverish, his tongue pushing past your lips in a desperate attempt to finally taste you.

"I do need you," you panted, a low groan rumbling deep in his chest, vibrating your entire body. You couldn't climb into his lap fast enough, your arms snaking around his neck so you could bring him closer.

"I was hoping you'd say that," his voice had dropped to a dangerously low octave, his tone more needy now than you'd ever heard. He was searching for your approval, and he had it, every ounce of it.

"I told you, Hotch. I've always had feelings for you," your shirt came off first, his arms reaching behind you to unclasp your bra. Once he had it off, his tongue found your breast, swirling around your nipple. You let your head fall back, the fluid movements of his tongue stunning you momentarily.

"Nothing stopping us now," he shot back, dexterously working to unbutton his black dress shirt. You took over for him, running your nails across his chest. He moaned at the contact, his tongue pushed between his teeth in anticipation. He shrugged off his dress shirt, letting you explore the gorgeous, scarred flesh underneath. He was everything you'd ever wanted in another person: strong, rugged, the most determined and assertive man you'd ever met. If he wanted it, it was already his.

"We'd have more room in the bed," you told him, watching in awe as he effortlessly hoisted you up and took you in the general direction of the bedroom. You told him where your room was and then swiftly occupied your lips with his neck, his chest, any skin you could reach to kiss.

"You're sure about this?"

You nodded enthusiastically before he laid you down on the bed, bringing your shorts down your legs with him. You could feel his gaze, taking in every inch of you, his pupils blown out in lust.

"You're even more gorgeous than I imagined," his hands spread your legs apart, beckoning you to quit being shy with him. The only thing separating him from your sex was a thin pair of panties, which Hotch was already making quick work of removing. His mouth traveled slowly from your ankle to your thighs, leaving wet, hot kisses all over your sensitive skin. You let go of a breath you didn't realize you were keeping to yourself when he laid down between your legs, his shoes falling to the floor as he situated himself in front of you.

He ran a teasing finger through your slit, collecting your arousal on his digits like a trophy. You couldn't remember the last time you'd been touched so delicately. Your eyes went wide when he plopped his finger into his mouth, a satisfied hum leaving his lips.

"You taste so fucking good; I knew you would. I've thought about this for weeks, and now here you are. You're perfect," his eyes fluttered shut as he spread your lips and attached his tongue to your clit, moaning into you as your hands tightly gripped his hair. He was enjoying it just as much as you were; his hips grinding into the mattress for friction and relief as he lapped at the mess between your thighs. You were already so close, the perfect amount of pressure delivered by his tongue had you a moaning mess on the sheets. When he began to pump a finger in and out of you, you lost your senses, euphoria taking you over.

"Good girl, I knew you'd be a filthy one. Look how wet my fingers are," he held his hand up for you to admire, but only for a second. It quickly found its home between your folds, dragging upwards towards your clit at a snails pace. He rubbed gentle circles on your most sensitive spot, murmuring sweet praises the entire time. You didn't know he could be so dirty.

"Can you come for me again?" It was the sweetest question he'd ever asked you, and you were happy to oblige, your back arching off the bed as his name rolled off your tongue. A smirk ghosted on his lips before he pulled up on his knees, unbuttoning his pants. He stood long enough to get undressed, bringing you to the edge of the bed, his giant hands hooked behind your knees.

You quickly told him you were on birth control, and with a satisfied grin he slid into you, bringing your feet to rest on his shoulders. He took his time pushing into you, savoring the way you clenched around him, making his cock throb and twitch inside of you.

"You look so pretty taking my cock, sweet girl. Do you love how I feel inside of you?" You didn't have time to answer, he was pounding into you, the end squeaking against the wall as you shouted his name. His hand crept between your legs, spreading your swollen lips to toy with your clit, a whimper falling from your lips, making him groan, dipping down to capture you in a kiss. You let his tongue slip into your mouth, covering you in affection as his hips smacked against yours in a steady rhythm.

"You're mine now. Do you understand that, sweetheart?" His chestnut eyes bored into yours as he awaited your answer, your climax growing closer with each passing second.

"All yours, Aaron. I swear it," you let go, letting him coax you through your orgasm with his precious words of endearment, a blush rising to your cheeks at how smitten he seemed to be.

"I can't wait to show you off, I'll take you anywhere you want to go. Now that you're with me, if you want it, it's yours."

You knew his loyalty ran deeper than anyone you'd ever been with, and his promises to you filled you with butterflies and adoration for the man you'd secretly been crazy about for a year. The heatwave of pleasure he sent through you buzzed like electricity throughout your entire body, his moans rattling you feel in your core. You had pined to be the one to bring him to the edge, and it was happening before your eyes, thick ribbons of cum spurting into you with a whimper of your name. He let out a shaky breath as he rubbed your calves, gently laying your legs out after being stretched for so long. He leaned down and pressed a loving kiss to your forehead before asking you where to find a towel and telling you to stay put.

You let him wipe you off, and he joined you in the bed, pulling you into his arms to cradle you against his body.

"I'm glad I'm finally here with you. It almost doesn't seem real," you kissed his neck, making your way to his lips. His arms held you securely against him, the two of you leaned into the mound of pillows on your bed.

"I'm glad you showed up for me. Thank you for coming to check on me. I know you were out with the team—"

"I really just wanted to see you. Can I stay with you tonight? I've got my go bag in the car," his voice was sleepy, and you were exhausted too, and you'd never tell him no to staying now that he was yours.

"I was hoping you'd stay. Come here, let's get some sleep," he laid on your shoulder, tossing his arm over you and pulling you in tight. You set your alarm and drifted off in the arms of the man you'd been dreaming about for such a long time.

#aaron hotchner #criminal minds #hotch #ssa hotchner #ssa aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner smut #hotchner #criminal minds fanfiction #derek morgan #spencer reid #criminal minds fandom #aaronhotcnher #hotch x fem!reader #aaron hotchner x reader smut #Hotch x reader smut

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barbiewritesstuff · 1 year

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So I had planned to upload a criminal minds Hotch x reader smutty fic, but errrrrrr I got very carried away writing it... it was only supposed to be like 2k words and it's double that and still not finished....

Hopefully I'll get it uploaded by tomorrow.

#fanfic #criminal minds #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotch hotchner #aaron hotch x you #hotch x reader #hotch smut #hotch x y/n #hotch x you #hotch x reader smut

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hotchs-big-hands · 20 days

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Wanna kneel between his slightly spread legs 🥺

#partner brought him manspreading to my attenshun and it had me #aaron hotchner #ssa aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #thomas gibson #hotch x reader smut #criminal minds

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fatecantstopme · 1 year

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Undercover

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x reader

Summary: You've gotta go undercover for a case...with the last person on earth you'd ever wanna go with.

Warnings: Angst. Cursing. Use of pet names. SMUT, dom/sub vibes, praise kink, sir kink, light choking kink. Mentions of murder. Little bit of fluffy fluff at the end.

A/N: Haley doesn't exist in this story, just FYI.

"So we need two people to go undercover," Rossi said.

"Count me out," Emily said, throwing her hands in the air. "This unsub creeps me out too much. I have no interest in playing his game."

Rossi looked at you and you groaned. "Oh come on."

"You're the only other option, (Y/N)," he insisted.

You looked over at JJ and she shrugged uncomfortably. "Don't look at me, I'm just the media liaison."

"Fine, I'll do it, but only if I can take Morgan with me."

Morgan grinned. "Hell, yeah. I'm in."

Garcia cut in, "Sorry, hot stuff--as much as I'd love to see you go undercover in a tux, you don't exactly fit the required profile."

You looked at Spence hopefully, but he shook his head. "Sorry, (Y/N/N), I'm too young for this one."

You groaned. "Well what's wrong with Morgan?"

"The group the unsub belongs to is very exclusive--if you're not white, you're not getting in," Hotch answered.

You bristled slightly at your boss's interjection. He wasn't wrong and you knew it, but every time he spoke you couldn't help but feel annoyed.

"Fine," you conceded. "Looks like I'm taking Rossi."

Rossi laughed. "Come on, (Y/N). You know I'm too old for this one."

The room fell silent as the realization dawned on every single person in the room, yourself included. Shit, shit, shit.

"It has to be Hotch," Rossi stated.

Even Hotch looked slightly surprised. "I haven't gone undercover in quite a while."

"Better figure it out because you're the only option," you grumbled.

Hotch sent you a glare, but didn't bother to reply to your statement. "When's this party happening?"

"Saturday night," Garcia answered.

"That's two days to prepare," Emily stated. "Should be plenty."

You sighed loudly, but nodded your agreement.

"Good. Let's get started," Hotch said.

The room immediately began to clear out, the rest of the team going back to their desks to work. You stayed behind, which didn't go unnoticed by Rossi.

"I know it's not ideal, but it's the best way to draw out the unsub," Rossi said gently as he sat down beside you.

You sighed, running your fingers through your hair. "He hates me, Rossi, and to be honest, I'm not his biggest fan either. But you want us to pretend to love each other in front of a bunch of strangers? For hours on end?"

Rossi patted your arm. "I know, kiddo, but he's not that bad. It'll be okay."

You stared at him in silence for a moment. "The man never looks at me unless it's a glare. He looks annoyed every time I dare to speak in his presence, especially if it's directed at him. There's no way we're going to be able to pretend to even like each other, Rossi."

"I'll talk to him, okay? But you both need to be the professionals I know you are. It's not about either of you...it's about all the girls this man has murdered."

You sighed lightly. "You're right, you're right--as always. I'll behave, I promise."

Rossi smiled. "That'a girl. I'll talk to Hotch."

You nodded. "Be mean if you have to."

"(Y/N)," Rossi warned with a chuckle as he left the conference room.

It's not that you hated Hotch or anything like that. Hell, you actually found him incredibly attractive--it was his attitude you couldn't stand. He wasn't always rude to you, he was almost friendly when you'd joined the team a couple years prior. A couple months in and he started to act differently. You had no idea what you'd done to him to make him hate you, but it pissed you off to no end.

Hotch wasn't exactly warm and fuzzy with anyone, but he was downright hostile with you. He went out of his way to avoid you when he could, and acted like a sullen child when he couldn't. He always paired you up with someone else on cases, to the point where you'd actually never worked with him alone one-on-one.

You grabbed your notebook and headed back to your desk.

"Hey, you okay?" Emily asked you softly when you sat down in front of her.

"Yeah, it's fine. Just gotta figure out how to make sure we don't kill each other in public."

She chuckled. "You're not going to kill each other."

You raised your eyebrow. "Sure--it'll be great."

"You'll be fine," she insisted. "So you wanna go shopping later?"

You nodded. "I've gotta find something to wear to this damn thing. Invite JJ and Garcia too. I need opinions. If I've gotta dress up, I wanna at least look hot."

Emily laughed. "Girl please--you always look hot."

"Thank you, thank you," you said with a mock bow.

"(Y/L/N)," Hotch yelled from his office. "My office. Now."

You closed your eyes and sighed before getting up and heading to the office. You made eye contact with Rossi as he walked back to his own office. He gave you a soft smile and a subtle thumbs up...but you couldn't help but feel nervous as hell.

"Sir?" you asked as you entered his office.

"Close the door," he said without looking at you.

You closed the door and waited silently for him to speak.

"Are you going to sit or just stand there awkwardly?"

"Standing closer to the door gives me a better escape route," you said stubbornly.

Hotch huffed in annoyance. "You're being childish. Sit down."

"Is that an order, sir?"

His body tensed and he clenched his jaw as he gestured to the seat in front of him.

You sat down and crossed your arms, silence stretching out between you.

After an entire minute of silence, you couldn't take it anymore. "I'm assuming you called me in here for a reason?"

"I did." Hotch's gaze finally landed on you. "We need to discuss this op."

"What about it?"

Hotch raised his eyebrows. "How about your reaction when Rossi said we'd be going undercover together?"

"Can you blame me, Hotch? We have to pretend to be romantically involved--but we can barely be in each other's presence without animosity."

"We're professionals, (Y/L/N)."

"May I speak freely, sir?"

"As if you don't already."

"I'm going to take that as a yes," you began. "You don't act like a professional, Hotch. You act like I'm an actual burden to you--like you despise me so much that merely being in my presence makes you angry. You can't even look at me without glaring and you almost never speak to me unless you have to. Can you see why I wouldn't exactly be thrilled about going undercover with you?"

To your surprise, Hotch looked almost hurt by your words. But that quickly turned back to annoyance--maybe even anger. "Can you really blame me? You're not exactly pleasant to be around," he said harshly.

It was your turn to be hurt--and unlike him, you couldn't hide it. You stood up and walked to the door.

"I didn't dismiss you."

You didn't even bother to look back at him. "This conversation is definitely over." You walked out the office door and straight out to the bank of elevators in the hall. You ignored the voices of your teammates calling your name. You just needed to get out of there--you needed air.

Instead of going down, you went up, making your way out to the roof. It was your go-to place to think, and lord knew you needed to think in peace.

You were angry and you needed a moment away from everyone else to calm down--otherwise, you might say something you'll regret. This was one of those moments where you questioned your life choices...and how much you really wanted to keep working at the BAU.

It was your dream job and you loved your team more than anything, but working with Hotch was slowly killing you. You hated the way he made you feel, but more importantly you hated the side of you he brought out. You just didn't like yourself when you were around him.

It hadn't always been that way. When you'd first started, Hotch had actually been nice to you--you might even say he was sweet. You felt accepted by the entire team, your boss included. You just didn't know what had changed. Somehow he was getting even worse and that attitude was pushing you to your limits.

You knew you had to get through this case and deal with the undercover part--the lives of an untold number of girls relied on it. But after that, you really needed to think about what your future was going to look like.

**********

Somehow, you made it through the rest of the day without losing your mind. You and the girls were now out shopping for the perfect dress for this op.

"Okay so I grabbed 15 different dresses in your size," Garcia said with a massive grin when you, Emily, and JJ walked into the store.

"You only got here 10 minutes before us!" you exclaimed.

Garcia just kept smiling. "I excel at speed shopping."

You laughed as she dragged you to the back of the store, the other two following behind you. You went into the dressing room to try on the dresses. Garcia had pulled various styles and colors, some of which were absolutely not your style at all, so you avoided trying those on.

The first dress you put on was just a basic little black dress. You stepped out of the dressing room to let the girls see it.

"Ohh an LBD. Okay," Emily said. "Spin please."

You spun with a chuckle. "What do we think?"

"Hmm. We can do better," Garcia said. "Next!"

You switched into a different black dress, longer this time, but perhaps a little more revealing in the bodice than you'd prefer.

"Ow-ow!" JJ cat called you as you stepped out.

Emily clapped and Garcia let out a little gasp.

"I think it might be a little...much," you said lightly.

Emily laughed. "The girls are coming out to say hi."

"Yeah, I'm gonna try another one."

The next couple dresses you tried on just didn't really speak to you, despite the reactions of your friends. You finally reached a dress that you thought looked nice on the hanger, but you weren't quite sure how it would look on you.

It was a deep emerald green dress in a silky fabric. It was very simply designed, v-necked with thin straps, floor length, with a thigh-high split up one side.

When you put it on, you let out a little gasp as you looked in the mirror. Even with minimal makeup, messy hair, and no shoes, you thought you looked incredible.

"Was that a gasp I just heard?" Garcia asked.

"Maybe," you said with a chuckle as you stepped out of the dressing room.

"Holy shit," Emily mumbled.

"That's the one," JJ said, eyes wide.

"I second that," Garcia agreed.

"You think so?" you asked, timidly.

"Girl, please. You look hot as hell," Emily insisted. "Hotch is probably going to pass out when he sees you."

You laughed. "He won't even notice, Em. You know he doesn't look at me."

"He's a man, (Y/N). He'd have to be blind not to."

"She's right, ya know," JJ said.

"Well I can't say that I wouldn't love to see Hotch fall flat on his face," you said lightly.

"I don't know why you're always so mean to each other," Garcia said with a frown.

"Oh please--he started it," you insisted.

"Hmm," she hummed. "I suppose."

"Enough talk about Hotch. Go change so we can buy that sexy dress and get dinner," Emily cut in.

"Tacos?" you asked.

"Obviously," she agreed.

**********

The next day was spent in the office, preparing for the op the next night. As always, Hotch was moody and distant, but he did try not to snap at you very much.

He wouldn't admit it, but Rossi's words from the day before, as well as your rightful anger, had been weighing on him all night. He didn't mean to be an asshole--well, yes he did. But he didn't want to be. It was self-preservation. He knew what would happen if he was nice to you...the first few weeks of your time in the BAU had given insight into that.

"Hotch," your voice snapped him out of his thoughts.

"What?" he asked.

You sighed. "You weren't listening, were you?"

He winced. "Sorry."

A look of surprise ghosted across your face. You were certain that was the first and only time he'd ever apologized to you. You shook your head to clear it and repeated your earlier statement. "Somehow these guys are rich enough to actually rent out an entire hotel for a weekend. The event itself is in the hotel ballroom and each of the 'couples' in attendance will have their own rooms, us included. Garcia managed to secure us a room."

"What do we need a hotel room for?" Hotch asked.

You sighed. "I'm not going to explain that one, Hotchner."

Before Hotch could snap at you, Rossi cut in. "The hotel rooms are used for the various interactions between the couples. Each couple is required to have a room in order to participate in the event."

"Besides," Reid continued, "we need the two of you to convince the unsub to come up to your room for (Y/N)."

You winced, a look of disgust covering your face.

"Sorry, (Y/N/N)," Reid said sheepishly.

"It's not your fault the unsub is so sick," you reassured him.

This particular unsub was part of an exclusive group of people who 'traded' women amongst each other for various fees dependent upon what the purchaser wanted the woman for. The unsub would purchase a girl to keep, and eventually murder in a horrifically sadistic and brutal manner.

Essentially, Hotch would be operating as your current 'owner', but once you'd identified the unsub, he'd offer you to him for a sordid fee. You didn't like the concept of any of this, but you wanted to catch this guy so badly.

After a few more hours of planning, it was time to wrap things up and get ready for tomorrow. You were meeting the team at a nearby hotel to get ready and it's where they would be setting up. You and Hotch would depart from there and go directly to the hotel with the event.

**********

At 4:30 the next day, you arrived at the hotel the team was setting up at. Most of the team was already there, the only one missing was Hotch.

"How you feeling, (Y/N)?" Emily asked softly. "You ready?"

"As I'll ever be, Em."

"Thanks for showing up," Morgan teased as Hotch walked into the hotel room.

"Shut it, Morgan. I couldn't find my tux."

'Tux?' you mouthed at Emily.

She shrugged. "Guess he wanted to match your level of class," she whispered.

"Actually, tuxes are required," Reid interjected.

"Ahh," you said with a nod.

Emily chuckled lightly and grabbed your arm, pulling you towards the bathroom. She gestured to JJ and Garcia to come along. She shut the door behind you all and you jumped up on the bathroom counter.

"Make me pretty," you joked.

"Girl please. You're already gorgeous. We're just accentuating it," Garcia stated with a smile.

"I love you," you said warmly as you pulled her into a hug. "But seriously, who's gonna fix my hair? I look crazy."

JJ laughed. "I'll take the hair. Garcia's gonna handle your makeup and Emily is here for comic relief/emotional support."

The girls got to work on styling your hair and doing your makeup, chatting and laughing together as if you weren't about to go undercover in a freaking lion's den.

While you and the girls were getting ready in the bathroom, the guys were talking over things in the bedroom.

Hotch needed maybe 10 minutes to get changed, so he had some time to kill before he needed to get ready. That time wasn't really a beneficial thing. It allowed him time to think about all kinds of things he really shouldn't be thinking about.

The event was starting at 7, so you needed to be at the other hotel by 6:30 to check into your room. At 6, the girls popped out of the bathroom, leaving you on the other side of the door.

Garcia cleared her throat to get the rest of the team's attention. Everyone turned to face her and she dramatically gestured to the bathroom door. "Presenting the beautiful, (Y/N) (Y/L/N)."

Emily swung the door open and you stepped out into the main room. Everyone was silent as they took in your look. You felt slightly uncomfortable under their gazes, despite being a very confident woman.

"Damn, girl," Morgan breathed out, the first one to recover.

"She looks great, doesn't she?" Garcia said excitedly.

"She really does," Hotch said softly without realizing it.

Everyone turned to look at him in surprise, but none were as surprised as you. Your eyes met his and you inhaled sharply, breath catching in your chest.

Hotch realized he'd spoken out loud, only because of the look on your face. A dark blush crept into his cheeks and he averted his gaze.

"Thanks, guys," you said softly, taking the attention away from Hotch.

He lifted his gaze back up to you, completely unable to keep his eyes off of you. You looked even more beautiful than usual and you absolutely took his breath away.

You looked back over at Hotch while ignoring the chatter of the rest of the team as they gushed over your look. Your heart was racing so quickly, you were slightly worried someone would be able to hear the pounding.

You'd never seen Hotch look at you the way he was looking at you in this moment. You felt almost small under his gaze and if you didn't think it sounded insane, you would say he almost looked hungry as he gazed at you.

"I guess I should change too," Hotch said lightly, eyes not quite meeting yours.

"Oh, right." You stepped out of the way so he could go into the bathroom to change into his tux. You walked over to the bed and sat on the edge of it, suddenly feeling a bit faint.

JJ noticed immediately and came over to sit beside you. "You okay?" she murmured.

"Yeah, I'm good. Just a little nervous," you lied smoothly.

It was obvious she didn't believe you, but she didn't say anything. She simply wrapped her arm around you and pulled you into a side hug. It was just what you needed to feel grounded.

After several minutes, Hotch came out of the bathroom wearing a very well-fitted black tux. Much in the same way he looked at you in shock when you came out, your eyes widened as you took him in.

"You clean up nice," Rossi teased.

"Yeah, yeah," Hotch muttered. He looked up at you, eyes not quite meeting yours. "Should we head out?"

You nodded and stood up, taking a deep breath to prepare yourself for the night ahead.

"We'll be close by if you need us," Rossi assured you both as you started out the door. "Garcia will be monitoring the cameras in the ballroom."

You nodded again as Hotch opened the door and gestured for you to go first. "We've got this," he said firmly.

The ride to the other hotel was silent...and not the comfortable kind. You hated it, but you couldn't think of a single thing to say, and apparently neither could he.

When you arrived at the hotel, Hotch handed the keys to the valet, took your arm as you got out of the car, and guided you into the hotel lobby.

"Good evening, sir," the front desk lady said. "May I have your last name please?"

"Carter," Hotch said smoothly.

The woman checked the computer and offered the two of you a smile. "Your room is on the 7th floor," she handed Hotch the room keys before continuing, "elevators are to your left. Please let us know if there's anything we can do to make your stay more pleasant."

"Thank you very much," Hotch responded.

Once the two of you made it to the room, you separated from each other as if your skin burned. You made quick work of searching the room for cameras and/or listening devices. Finding none, you finally relaxed a little and spoke to each other.

"Call Rossi," you said. "We're a go."

Hotch glared at you, clearly annoyed at your commands, but he didn't say anything. Instead, he simply called Rossi, told him the room number, and said he'd be in touch.

"We have 20 minutes until we need to be downstairs for the party," he said as he sat down on the edge of the bed.

You sat down in an arm chair on the opposite side of the room. "Shall we sit in silence until then?"

Hotch shot you another glare. "Perhaps we should discuss our plan?"

"What's to discuss? You know the plan as well as I do. Just pretend to actually like each other for long enough to find the unsub. Sound manageable?"

He winced as if you'd hit him, but quickly recovered. It did not, however, go unnoticed by you. "If you're silent, I think I can handle it," he snapped back.

You narrowed your eyes. "Don't worry, I'm excellent at faking sweetness."

10 minutes passed in complete silence. You felt bad for being so nasty to him, but it was all you ever did. You didn't banter...you fought, and neither of you knew how to pull a punch.

Much to your surprise, Hotch broke the silence first. "Have you always hated me so much?"

You turned to look at him. He actually looked wounded and it made your expression soften. "I don't hate you, Hotch."

"Coulda fooled me."

"Do you hate me?" you asked softly.

He looked surprised. "Of course not."

"Coulda fooled me," you said, echoing his response.

He looked down at the floor. "I know I'm an asshole, (Y/N), but I don't hate you."

You were silent for a moment. "That's the first time you've called me by my first name since I first joined the BAU."

His gaze met yours. "It is?"

You simply nodded.

He returned the nod thoughtfully. "I don't mean to be like this, you know."

"Well you're not like this with anyone else on the team, so I can only assume you have something against me specifically."

He shook his head. "I don't, but it's just--it's hard to explain." He fell silent, refusing to allow himself to elaborate further.

You sighed and stood up. "Come on. We might as well head downstairs."

He nodded again and joined you at the door.

"Remember," you said softly. "Pretend to like each other."

You opened the door and the op began.

**********

Hotch's hand rested firmly on your lower back as you walked into the hotel ballroom. You closed your eyes briefly, silently willing your body to not react to the feeling of his hand on you or the proximity of his body to yours.

Unfortunately, he felt the tension in your back against his palm. "Relax," he murmured in your ear, causing you to shiver.

You hated your body for reacting so intensely to him, and you cursed quietly under your breath, earning a deep chuckle from Hotch.

You wanted to glare at him for laughing at you, but you knew there were eyes on you both. You decided to lean into the role you were supposed to be playing, while also getting back at him.

You placed your hand on his chest and leaned your body into him, giving him a whiff of your perfume. You felt him tense against you and you grinned. "You okay there, handsome?" you teased.

He gave you a tight-lipped smile, but you noticed the slight flush in his cheeks. He knew what you were doing, but he was quite sure you weren't aware of what you were really doing to him.

He guided you farther into the large ballroom, eyes scanning the room for men that fit the profile. Unfortunately, almost every man in the room fit the profile almost perfectly.

"Are you paying attention?" he asked softly.

"Yes, Sir," you hissed in annoyance.

He bit back a groan, eyes fluttering closed for a moment. "Don't," he mumbled.

"Don't what?" you asked teasingly, knowing exactly what got to him.

He shot you a look that sent a wave of heat straight to your core. Your eyes must have betrayed you, because his expression changed to an almost wolfish look that had your pulse racing.

"Behave," he snapped. The harshness in his voice surprised you, until you saw the couple watching you from the corner of your eye. Hotch had slid seamlessly into his role, so you slipped back into yours.

Your eyes looked down and your body language screamed 'submissive', which was what you knew the unsub would want to see. The man nodded at Hotch, clearly appreciating his dominant control over you. Hotch inclined his head at the man, signaling his respect.

Once the couple was out of earshot, you whispered, "One down."

Hotch nodded. "500 to go." It was an exaggeration, but it felt like he was right.

For the next hour, the two of you made it through the room several times, eliminating almost every man there. You were starting to lose hope that you were going to find the unsub, but Hotch was refusing to give up.

Your eyes were dancing around the room when they landed on a man several feet away from you. You hadn't noticed him before, but he was watching you, eyes taking in your appearance with a dangerous hunger.

You turned your head into Hotch's shoulder, so the man could no longer see your face. "Your 2 o'clock," you whispered.

Hotch glanced in that direction and his grip on your waist tightened almost possessively. You instantly knew he agreed with your instincts and his protective nature kicked into high gear.

You felt Hotch move his head, gesturing for the man to come over to you. He leaned down to murmur against your hair, "He's coming this way."

"Hello there," the man said as he reached you. "Who do we have here?"

He was clearly talking about you, so Hotch turned your body towards him, allowing the man to have a clearer view of you. "This is Anna," he lied smoothly. "My favorite girl."

You kept your head inclined to express a very submissive nature, but you allowed yourself to gaze up at the man through your lashes. He was looking at you with an intensity that made your skin crawl, but you didn't show it.

"Anna," he said softly. "Beautiful name for a beautiful woman."

"Thank you, sir," you murmured.

"And so well-behaved." The man looked up at Hotch. "You've trained her well."

Hotch smiled. "She's a very quick learner." He leaned forward conspiratorially. "A little violence goes a long way with this one."

The man hummed lightly, clearly pleased with that information. "Is she available?"

"What did you have in mind?" Hotch asked.

"I was thinking something permanent."

Hotch pretended to think about it, looking slightly disinterested.

"I can pay very well," the man insisted. "I pay extra for complete discretion."

"Discretion is obviously included," Hotch said simply.

The man shook his head slightly. "Complete discretion. After I make the purchase, I expect utter silence on your part, regardless of what may happen."

"Should I be concerned about 'what may happen'?" he asked lightly.

"I'll make it worth your while to not be concerned."

Hotch looked down at you. "How much?"

"$500,000."

Hotch laughed. "She's worth more than that."

"My apologies. I'll give you the 500,000 for discretion and 1 million for the girl."

Every single fiber of your being was telling you this man was the unsub you were looking for and you had a feeling Hotch felt the same way.

Hotch nodded. "You've got yourself a deal."

The man smiled. "I'll transfer the money to whatever account you wish."

Hotch gave him a government-controlled bank account to wire the money to.

Back at the other hotel, Garcia received a notification that the account had received 1.5 million dollars. "Alright, guys. It's go-time. I just got 1.5 million dollars for something...I'm assuming it's for (Y/N). Hotch is talking with a man now."

Rossi and Morgan leaned over her shoulder to look at the camera feed. "Let's roll," Morgan said.

Morgan, Rossi, Reid, and Emily headed out to the other hotel. The plan was to pick up the unsub once you were transferred to his possession.

Hotch's phone dinged with a notification from Garcia informing him the money had been transferred. He looked up at the other man with a smile. "It's been a pleasure doing business with you. She's all yours."

"Excellent. Come along, Anna. We have much to do," the man said firmly as he grabbed your arm to guide you away from Hotch.

You felt Hotch's tension as you were pulled away from him, but you didn't look back. You knew if you did, it would give you away.

The moment the man was out of earshot, Hotch called Garcia. "Don't lose her," he said firmly.

"On it, sir."

Garcia watched the man guide you through the ballroom towards the bank of elevators. The cameras in the elevator showed how clearly uncomfortable you were and it made Garcia upset to watch. The unsub's hands were all over you, but you didn't pull away--you couldn't.

The elevator doors opened and the cameras in the hallway showed the unsub leading you into room 456.

"They're in room 456," Garcia said over the phone.

The moment the words were out of her mouth, Hotch was running across the ballroom towards the elevators. As he waited for the elevator, the rest of the team came into the building.

Hotch held the elevator doors opened and the other four jumped inside and headed up to the 4th floor. When they reached room 456, Emily knocked on the door. "Housekeeping," she called.

A few moments later, the unsub opened the door, looking annoyed. His expression quickly turned to surprise as 5 FBI agents busted into his room.

Hotch looked around the room for you, ignoring what was happening with the unsub behind him. His gaze landed on you and he relaxed immediately. You shot him a small smile and waved your fingers at him from the bed.

He rushed over to you. "Are you okay?" he asked gently as he pulled out a knife and quickly cut the rope that bound your arms to the headboard.

"I am now," you said softly, rubbing your wrists slightly.

"You did good," he commented.

"So did you."

He helped you off the bed and you straightened your dress before making your way over to the unsub. "Gotcha," you said with a smile as you patted his cheek.

Hotch nodded to Rossi and Morgan and they escorted him out of the room. Emily and Reid followed, but Hotch grabbed your arm to keep you from following them. "Are you sure you're okay?" he asked softly.

You smiled. "He didn't do anything other than tie me to the bed and awkwardly fondle me, Hotch. I promise I'm okay."

He looked angry for a moment. "I hate that he touched you."

You shrugged. "It wasn't great, but I'll live." You grabbed his arm. "Come on, let's go."

He followed you out of the room and downstairs. The team loaded up in their vehicles and headed back to the other hotel for Garcia and JJ, while Rossi and Morgan took the unsub back to the BAU for questioning.

Garcia and JJ were packing everything up when you walked into the room.

"You're okay!" Garcia squealed as she ran across the room to hug you.

You laughed. "I'm perfectly fine, Pen. I promise."

JJ gave you a hug too before helping Garcia carry stuff out to the car. Everyone else cleared out, but you and Hotch stayed behind to change.

"We'll meet you guys back at the office. Tell Rossi to get started without us," Hotch said firmly as he ushered Emily and Reid out of the room, shutting the door behind them.

"I was kind of looking forward to interrogating him," you complained.

"I'm not letting him anywhere near you again," Hotch growled.

"Little possessive aren't we?"

His eyes met yours and your breath caught in your chest. His pupils were blown wide and his gaze was incredibly intense. Your heart began to beat rapidly and your breathing became more shallow.

You'd never wanted him more badly than you wanted him in this moment, but you found you couldn't move. It was as if your feet had grown roots.

Hotch, on the other hand, began to slowly walk towards you, like a predator hunting his prey. He stopped mere inches from you, so close you could feel his breath against your lips.

He leaned forward, pinning you against the wall, his arms caging you in. "Tell me to stop," he whispered.

"No," you breathed out.

He groaned softly and you watched as the last remnants of his self-control faded away. Without warning, he slammed his lips against yours, taking your breath away.

You kissed him back, snaking your arms around his neck and pulling him closer to you. His body collapsed against yours, pressing into you deliciously.

His lips began to move to your jaw and down to your neck, sucking your skin and leaving little bite marks as he went.

"Aaron," you whimpered softly.

He moaned against your skin, nipping at your pulse point. "Say my name again."

You gave the hair at the nape of his neck a tug and whispered his name again.

He looked up at you, eyes black with lust. "I wanna take my time with you," he murmured.

"We don't have time," you said softly. "The team's gonna wonder what's taking so long."

"I don't care," he growled. "I've been wanting to do this for years."

You groaned, the mere idea that he'd wanted you for so long was a massive turn on. You ran your fingers through his hair, tugging at the roots gently. "Then you can wait a little longer, baby."

"Fuck," he mumbled, hands tightening on your hips. "I'll take my time with you later. Lift that dress up, baby. Wanna touch you."

You didn't need to be told twice. You lifted up the skirt of the dress so it was around your waist, revealing your black lace thong.

He raised his eyebrows when he saw your underwear and you grinned. "Didn't want panty lines."

He grabbed the edge of the lace and ripped it with ease.

"Aaron!"

"What? You won't need them." He slipped a finger between your folds, effectively silencing your response. "So wet for me," he groaned.

Your head leaned back against the wall and you let out a soft moan. Your fingers reached for his belt, quickly removing it before fiddling with the button and zipper on his pants.

He grabbed your hand and pushed it away. You were about to protest, but he made much faster work of removing his pants than you would have. He pulled his boxers down just enough to release his hard cock, stroking it as he leaned his forehead against yours.

"Please," you whimpered.

"Please what, baby?"

"Fuck me, please," you begged.

"I can't say no when you beg so sweetly," he said softly.

You clutched at his shoulders and lifted your hips up to meet his hands. He chuckled lightly at your neediness, but he couldn't deny his own need any longer. In one swift movement, he sheathed himself inside of you completely.

You gasped as you dug your nails into him, trying to adjust to his size. His length and girth stretched you out almost painfully. You wrapped your right leg around his waist and begged him to move.

He started to thrust up into you, your moans mixing with the salacious sounds of your bodies meeting.

"You feel so good, (Y/N)," he moaned into your ear. "Could stay between these pretty legs forever."

"Faster," you begged.

He chuckled darkly and sped up his thrusts. You gasped loudly, pleasure overwhelming you.

"Squeezing me so tight, baby."

"So close," you gasped.

"Yeah? You wanna cum, pretty girl?"

"Please," you whimpered.

"Not yet," he growled.

You let out a soft whimper as he continued to thrust into you. He was struggling to keep his own orgasm at bay, but he wanted to make sure yours was as intense as he could make it before he came.

"Fuck, baby, you're so beautiful."

"Wanna cum," you cried softly.

He thrust into you as hard and fast as he could. "Cum for me, baby."

You cried out as your release hit you with overwhelming force. You clenched tightly around him as you came, drawing deep moans from his chest.

"Squeezing me so good...gonna cum, baby," he groaned out.

You felt him slow slightly and you worried he was going to pull out. "Inside me, please--Aaron, wanna feel you fill me up," you begged quickly.

"Baby, you sure?"

You nodded rapidly. "Please--need it."

He leaned into you, lips against your throat as he thrust into you a couple more times before he came inside of you, filling you with his seed. He groaned your name against your skin as he came down from his high.

You were both breathless as he slowly slid out of you. His hands didn't leave your hips, which you were thankful for. You were pretty sure you wouldn't be able to stand up without his support.

"You alright, (Y/N)?" he asked softly as he kissed your temple.

"More than alright."

He smiled. "Me too."

You chuckled as you looked up at him. "We--uh...we should probably clean up and get back to the office."

He nodded and pulled away from you a little. "Yeah, you're right. Sorry--"

"Nothing to be sorry for, Aaron. I wanted that as badly as you did."

He looked back up at you, eyes scanning your face for any hint of deception. The fact that you'd used his first name and the look of affection on your face solidified his belief that you were serious.

"For the record, I'd like to do this again later," you said softly as you took in his gentle expression.

He smiled and raised his eyebrows. "Oh really?"

You bit your lip and nodded.

He groaned softly. "Don't play coy now, (Y/N)."

You grinned and pulled him in for a deep kiss, one he returned happily. When you separated, you pulled yourself off the wall and went to adjust your dress. As soon as you stood up straight, his cum began to seep out onto your thighs.

"Shit," you mumbled.

"What?"

"Well, you ruined my underwear and now I'm going to get cum all over my dress."

He grinned. "Good thing you brought clothes to change into."

"I didn't bring another pair of underwear!"

"Sorry, gorgeous. Guess you'll have to just sit with your thighs clenched together."

You smacked him affectionately as he started to take off the rest of his tux so he could change.

"You're terrible," you grumbled lightly. You grabbed your clothes and went into the bathroom to change. When you came back out, he was dressed and ready to go.

He looked slightly uncomfortable, as if the realization of everything that had happened just dawned on him. "We, uh--we should probably talk about this..."

Your expression hardened slightly, unsure of what he was trying to say. Did he regret it? "We can talk about it later. Let's just get back to Quantico."

Hotch nodded, noticing the way you'd closed up when he'd mentioned talking. He couldn't deny that he was worried--and perhaps slightly ashamed that he'd given in to his primal desires. He just had to hope you didn't hate him.

You stayed quiet for the whole ride back to Quantico, leaving Hotch to wonder silently if he'd really and truly messed things up for good.

**********

After the interviews were completed and the unsub had confessed to all of the murders, it was almost 2am. You were beyond ready to go home, as was the rest of the team.

Everyone was leaving except for Hotch. He watched as you started to make your way towards the elevators. He knew he needed to make a decision...

The elevator doors closed with you inside and his decision was made for him. He figured he could talk to you on Monday...or maybe just never bring it up ever again. Maybe that's what you'd prefer.

You'd never admit it to anyone, but you went home that night and cried yourself to sleep. You should have known better--hell you did know better. Giving yourself over that easily was embarrassing...especially when you did it with your boss.

Hotch didn't call that night, nor the next day, and when you came to work on Monday, he tried to catch your eye, but you ignored him more harshly than you ever had before.

Two weeks went by in much the same way. You wouldn't even look in his direction and he desperately tried to think of something to say. The longer this went on, the harder it was for him to say something.

Friday night came and the team wanted to go out for drinks. You declined, opting instead to go home and curl up on your couch.

Hotch overheard your explanation to JJ, telling her you were too tired. He decided tonight would be the night when he would man up and actually talk to you.

A little before 6pm, there was a knock at your door. You were already in your pjs and you'd ordered Chinese food for dinner, so you assumed it was your delivery.

When you opened the door, you were shocked to see a soaking wet Aaron Hotchner standing at your door.

"Well you're not the Chinese delivery guy," you grumbled.

He held up the bag of Chinese food in his hand. "Caught him on the way in. He was more than happy to hand it to me so he could get out of the rain."

You sighed. "Come in then, before you get pneumonia."

He followed you into your townhouse, shutting the door behind him. He stopped in the entryway, clothes dripping all over the floor.

"I'll get you a couple towels."

"Thanks," he said sheepishly.

Even after toweling himself off, he was still soaking wet. He removed his coat and his suit jacket, leaving him in his white button down, which in its current state, did nothing to hide the body beneath it.

You swallowed thickly and averted your gaze. "So what brings you to my house in the pouring rain on a Friday night?"

"I...I thought we could talk," he mumbled.

You gestured to your dining table. "Pull up a seat. I got enough Chinese food for 4 people."

He sat down at the table across from you and you silently pulled out the different containers.

"Just don't touch the potstickers," you said lightly, the ghost of a smile playing across your lips.

He chuckled. "I learned my lesson on that one."

A couple years ago, the team had gotten Chinese food to sustain them on a late night of work. Hotch made the mistake of taking the last potsticker mere seconds before you came back for it. Every other person on the team knew better than to take the last one without asking you first and Hotch learned first-hand that night how aggressive you got about potstickers.

The two of you ate in silence for a little while. Since he'd come here without warning, you decided to simply wait him out. If he had something he wanted to say, he'd need to just come out and say it.

You were half-tempted to start humming the Jeopardy tune when Hotch finally spoke up.

"Sorry for stopping by unannounced."

"It's alright. I didn't have any exciting plans anyway," you said, gesturing to the containers on the table.

He smiled, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. You could tell he was uncomfortable, but you weren't about to ease his pain. You were still annoyed with him.

"So I--I think I owe you an apology," he began.

You raised your eyebrows.

"I do owe you an apology," he corrected.

"Go on."

He cleared his throat and shifted in his seat. "I shouldn't have done what I did that night at the hotel."

"In what sense?"

"I shouldn't have slept with you," he said softly.

You winced, but he wasn't looking at your face, so he missed your expression. "Right," you snapped, standing up. "Well if that's all--"

He finally looked up at you and you saw the pain in his eyes. It softened your heart and your expression. "Please," he whispered. "Just let me finish."

You sighed and sat back down.

"Can I start over?" he asked.

You nodded. "Please do."

"Do you remember when you first joined the team?"

"Of course."

"So do I. Better than I should, actually," he mumbled. "When you first started, I thought you were amazing. You were so incredibly smart, but so humble. You made me laugh, you brightened my day every single day...you made me feel something I wasn't sure I'd ever feel."

You inhaled softly, his words stirring something inside of you that you weren't sure you wanted to feel.

"Those first few weeks were incredible and I was so glad that you'd joined the team--not just because I enjoyed your company, but because of how good of a profiler you are. I realized there was a problem pretty early on and it changed everything for me." He sighed. "I started to treat you differently from the rest of the team and I'll admit I took it a little too far. I thought if I pushed you as far away as I could, then I wouldn't want you anymore."

He ran his fingers through his hair and stood up. He started pacing the length of the dinning room, eyes trained on the floor. "The thing is, you'd already managed to wedge yourself in my heart and nothing I did changed that. I kept telling myself that I'm your boss and I can't feel what I feel for you--that I can't have you. I was so angry at the whole situation that I started taking it out on you--and you didn't deserve that." He finally looked up at you. "You don't deserve that."

There were tears in your eyes, but you didn't say a word--you couldn't.

"The night of the op...I struggled to keep my composure from the moment you walked out in that dress. You looked so incredibly beautiful--you took my breath away. But when we walked into that ballroom and those men looked at you so hungrily...it disgusted me. The mere thought of any one of them touching you made me sick to my stomach, especially knowing what kind of people they were."

He looked angry even in that moment, as if talking about it was unbearable.

"My natural protective instincts kicked in and I almost forgot what we were there to do. I know I teased you a little and I'm sorry about that--it was unprofessional."

"You weren't the only one doing the teasing," you reminded him gently.

He smiled slowly. "True. But still. I shouldn't have done that." He clenched his jaw. "But when Andrew Connors looked at you, I saw red. I knew he was the unsub before he even came over to us. The way he looked at you...it terrified me. Then I had to watch him walk away with you and I couldn't breathe, (Y/N). The thought of something happening to you was overwhelming."

"I didn't know," you whispered.

"I've gotten very good at hiding what I'm feeling," he conceded. "When we busted into his hotel room and I didn't see you right away...my brain jumped to the worst conclusions. But then I saw you and you looked uncomfortable, but alive. I've never felt relief like that in my life."

You offered him a small smile and he continued.

"When you told me that he'd touched you, I almost lost it, but you were so calm. It didn't bother you the way it bothered me, and I realized that part of the reason I was so upset was because of how I thought of you--the possessiveness I felt--like you were mine. I couldn't stand the thought of him touching what belonged to me."

He paused. "I'm not saying you belong to me--that's just how it felt to me in that moment," he clarified. "By the time we got back to the hotel, I was so worked up I could hardly control myself. That sassy little attitude of yours was the last straw and I broke."

"You didn't actually break--I invited you in," you said softly.

"I literally caged you against a wall."

"And you asked me to tell you to stop. I didn't want you to."

His expression shifted slightly. "You didn't? Like even now looking back?"

You laughed mirthlessly. "Hotch, did you really think you forced yourself on me?"

He nodded slowly.

"You know me better than that. If I didn't want to do it, it wouldn't have happened."

"I just thought that maybe you were feeling confused and pent-up like I was and you just gave in because I was there."

"Do you know how terrible that sounds?"

"You're so out of my league it's not even funny--and I'm your boss! Are you really so surprised that's what I was thinking?!"

You inhaled sharply. "I'm not out of your league, Aaron Hotchner."

"Of course you are!" he insisted.

You groaned in annoyance. "How many men have I dated since I joined the BAU?"

"What?" he asked in confusion.

"How many?" you asked again.

"I...I don't know. You've never mentioned anyone."

You nodded. "That's because there hasn't been a single man. Not one."

"Not one? How is that possible?"

"Not a single one. Do you know why?"

He shook his head.

"You," you said simply.

"Me?"

"I wanted you from the moment we met and for some damn reason that's never changed, even with the way we treated each other."

His face was filled with complete and utter shock, which surprised you.

"You're a profiler, Aaron," you teased. "Did you really not know?"

He shook his head. "Maybe I just didn't want to believe it."

"Why not?"

"Because then I wouldn't have an excuse to keep us apart."

"And now?" you whispered.

He crossed the space between you and grabbed your hand, pulling you up out of your chair. "I can't take any of this back, (Y/N), and to be honest, I don't want to."

You gently caressed his face. "Something real?" you asked softly.

He turned his face into your hand and kissed your palm. "Something real," he confirmed.

You stood on your tiptoes and pulled him down to kiss you, his lips softly caressing yours. You moaned softly as you leaned into him, deepening the kiss. His arms snaked around your lower body, pulling you flush against him.

When you finally separated to breathe, Hotch leaned his forehead against yours. "I don't want to be presumptuous--" he began.

"Bedroom is the first room on the left," you murmured.

He chuckled. "You read my mind."

He slid his hands under your thighs and pulled you up with ease. You wrapped your legs around his waist with a giggle as he carried you to your bedroom.

"So strong, Agent Hotchner," you teased warmly.

"Hmm," he hummed. "I like these titles you use."

"Oh really? I hadn't noticed."

He tossed you down onto the bed and you laughed lightly.

"What are you gonna do to me, sir?"

He groaned softly. "You're going to be the death of me, beautiful."

You smiled and leaned back on your elbows. "I certainly hope not. I have plans for you."

"Sounds ominous," he teased.

You grinned. "You're going to love it, I promise. Now, why don't you lose those wet clothes?"

He smiled. "Only because you asked so sweetly." He started to unbutton his shirt tantalizingly slowly, eyes never leaving yours.

You bit your lip as you watched him, silently begging him to speed it up.

After what felt like an eternity he slid the shirt off his shoulders and onto the floor, but of course he was still wearing his undershirt. He started to very slowly lift it up, eliciting a groan from you.

"Aaron."

He chuckled. "Alright, alright." He pulled the shirt off over his head and tossed it onto the floor.

You let out a little hum of approval, which made him blush. He was a confident man, but he felt very exposed under your gaze.

He shed his pants quickly, leaving nothing on but his boxers. You eyed the bulge appreciatively, the memories of his size on the forefront of your mind.

"I think you're a little overdressed, baby," he teased lightly.

You looked down at your t-shirt and pj pants. "Hmm...you might be right." You yanked your shirt off in one smooth motion, tossing it to the side before looking back at him.

He practically pounced onto the bed, eyes glued to your torso. "No bra?" he whispered.

"I wasn't expecting company."

"I'm not complaining," he said almost reverently as he hovered over you, hands touching your sides.

He licked his lips before kissing you softly, moving down the column of your throat down towards your breasts. He swirled his tongue around your nipple before giving it a light nip as he took it into his mouth.

Your back arched towards him and a soft moan left your lips. Your hands immediately went to his broad shoulders, holding onto him as he toyed with you.

His hands slid down your sides, fingers digging into your skin as he went. He didn't want to let go of you, but he needed to remove your pants. He was dying to bury himself between your legs.

You wiggled your hips to help him as he tugged off your pjs. "Baby," he groaned, as you laid before him completely bare. "Never wear underwear ever again."

You laughed lightly. "If you promise to keep looking at me like that, I'll burn every pair I own."

He grinned wolfishly. "I'll make it worth your while."

He gripped your thighs and tugged your legs apart with gentle force. You gasped softly and his eyes flicked up to you to make sure you were okay. What he saw had him moaning with need of his own.

Your eyes were hooded and filled with lust, lips parted, a warm blush heating your face. You bit your lip when you caught him staring and shifted your hips slightly to get his attention back where you wanted it.

He gave you a little smirk before lowering himself comfortably between your legs. He nipped at the soft flesh of your inner thighs, hands massaging your hips gently.

"Aaron," you whined.

"Patience, sweetheart," he mumbled.

You whimpered softly, but you had a feeling he would make it worth the wait.

His lips slowly made their way towards your core, warming your body from the outside in. After what felt like an eternity, his tongue finally darted out sliding between your folds with ease.

You gasped in pleasure as he settled in, mouth moving against your core with expert precision. Every swipe of his tongue, movement of his lips, and vibration from his moans had you shivering with pleasure.

It didn't take him very long to work you into a heated frenzy. Within minutes, you were coming apart on his tongue, cries of his name reverberating through the bedroom. Your fingers clutched his dark hair, giving it a light tug when the pleasure became too much.

He lifted himself up, licking his lips as he eyed you with a dark look. His ministrations had only served to fuel his hunger and you could tell he was struggling to maintain his control.

"Can I taste you?" you asked sweetly.

Surprise lit up his features. "You--you don't have to."

You furrowed your brows. "I want to--badly."

He nodded hesitantly, rolling over to allow you access. He helped you remove his boxers and you inhaled sharply when his cock sprang free. You hadn't gotten a very good look at it the last time, but you'd known it was large. Now seeing it, all you wanted to do was feel the weight against your tongue.

You gripped the shaft firmly, pulling a soft moan from his throat. You licked your lips before pressing kisses to the head, the shaft, and his balls. You traced the large vein on the shaft with your tongue before slipping his large member into your mouth.

"Fuck," he groaned, hands immediately wrapping themselves in your hair.

Your mouth was so warm and wet, and the way you moved had him breathing heavily and making the sexiest sounds you'd ever heard. Each one spurred you on and your motions quickened.

"Just like that baby," he moaned. "Feels amazing."

You hummed appreciatively around his cock, the vibrations sending a wave of pleasure through his body. His hips jerked up to meet your mouth and you gagged slightly.

A look of panic crossed his face at the sound, but when he looked down at you, it was clear you didn't mind. You pushed yourself a little lower onto his cock, gagging again as you took him into your throat. You wanted to make sure he knew you were into it.

He was surprised by how much it turned him on, his moans becoming almost embarrassingly loud. "Gonna cum if you keep doing that," he said lowly.

You sped up slightly, the only signal you gave him that you wanted exactly that--his cum pouring down your throat.

Moments later, he gasped your name as he came, and you swallowed every drop he gave you. You paid special attention to the head of his cock as he came down from his high, making sure to prolong his pleasure as much as possible.

He tugged your hair gently, pulling you off of him and up to his face so he could kiss you. When you separated, he was completely breathless.

"Where--" he breathed deeply, trying to steady his heart rate. "Where did you learn...to do...that?"

You grinned. "A magician never reveals her secrets," you teased with a wink.

He chuckled. "Best I've ever had, hands down."

You blushed. "Thank you."

"Thank you," he countered. He flipped you onto your back and climbed on top of you again.

"Oh!" you gasped in surprise as your back hit the mattress. "We're not done?"

He looked surprised. "Do you wanna be?"

You shook your head rapidly, causing him to laugh. "It's just--in my experience, most men are one and done."

"Oh baby, you've been hanging out with all the wrong men," he teased. "Besides, you only came once."

Your brows knit together in confusion. "So...?"

"I need at least two more from you."

"Two more? I've never cum more than once during sex."

"Oh now that sounds like a challenge," he said devilishly. "And I love a good challenge."

You blushed a little and wiggled slightly under him.

"Hey," he said softly. "We don't have to do anything you don't wanna do. Tell me to stop and I will, no matter what."

You smiled warmly and touched his cheek. "I appreciate that. I want you...I'm just not used to the whole 'multiple orgasms' thing."

He kissed your palm. "May I try?"

You nodded slowly. "Please..."

"I'll go slow, baby."

In a split second, you decided you didn't want him to go slow. You wanted him to ruin you and you had a pretty good idea how to rile him up.

"I want you to fuck me until I can't walk, sir." You put a lot of emphasis on the title, hoping it would have the desired effect.

You weren't disappointed. His eyes darkened instantly and his grip on your hips tightened. "Is that what you want, huh? You want me to use this sweet little pussy for my own pleasure?"

You inhaled sharply, desire evident in your expression. "Make me scream," you begged.

Hotch shifted his body and thrust into you without any warning, earning a cry of pained pleasure from your lips. "I can't deny such a pretty little request," he growled before he began to pound into you, setting a brutal pace.

You cried out again as the pain faded away, leaving only white hot pleasure in its wake. Your nails clawed at his back, finding purchase anywhere they could.

"Shit, baby--this pussy was made for me," he mumbled against the shell of your ear.

"Oh god," you moaned loudly.

"Keep making those pretty little sounds for me, baby."

His thrusts were measured and precise, each one hitting your sweet spot and sending waves of pleasure through you. Every inch of your body was on fire, from the tips of your toes up to the roots of your hair. You had never in your life felt this incredible and you never wanted it to end.

"Aaron," you gasped. "I'm so--so close."

"Fuck--" he growled. "Say my name again."

"Aaron."

Somehow his pace increased and it sent you tumbling right over the edge. You came with surprising force, pussy pulsating around his cock. As badly as he would have liked to keep his pace, he had to slow down to avoid cumming too.

"That's it, baby," he murmured against your neck. "Doing so well for me. Gonna give me one more?"

You hadn't been sure it was possible for you to have two orgasms, let alone three, but you were 100% willing to try. You nodded, but it wasn't enough for him.

"Can you use those words for me, pretty girl?"

"Yes, sir," you murmured.

He groaned and began to pick up his pace again. "That's my good girl."

Your eyes widened and your nails dug into his flesh slightly. The burning sensation caught his attention and he smiled. "You like that don't you? You wanna be my good girl?"

You nodded hastily. "Yes, sir. Please. I'll be so good for you."

He grinned. "Of course you will, baby."

He shifted his weight and pulled your legs up to his chest, allowing him to thrust even more deeply inside of you. His thrusts never faltered, his pace remained steady.

You whimpered below him, the pleasure almost too much. Your body was so sensitive, but you didn't want him to stop. "Please," you whispered.

"Please what, sweetheart? Tell me what you need."

"More," you begged.

He kissed your leg softly before sliding a hand down between your thighs. He began to gently circle your clit as he continued pounding into you. Your moans grew in volume and your legs began to shake as the pleasure built.

"I know you're close, baby," he groaned. "I need you to cum for me."

You moaned as he increased the pressure on your clit. The feeling of his hands on you, his cock filling you up so thoroughly, and the gentle skill of his fingers combined to send you to the very edge.

You knew you needed something more--but you weren't sure if he would be comfortable with it. Neither of you had exactly had time to discuss what you were into in the bedroom.

You reached up and grabbed his hand from your leg, pulling it towards your face. He watched you, a look of confusion marring his handsome features. You placed his hand on the base of your neck, giving it a light squeeze to ensure he knew what you wanted.

His eyes widened, but he didn't move his hand. "Are you sure?" he whispered.

You nodded quickly. "Please, Aaron--I need it."

He groaned lowly and added a small amount of pressure to your throat, not enough to choke you, but enough for you to know he was there and he was in control.

You gasped in pleasure, the mixture of the various sensations threatening to overwhelm you. Within moments, you were crying out as you came, body shaking beneath his as wave after wave of pleasure washed over you.

"Shit--" he moaned loudly. "I'm gonna--gonna cum."

"Fill me up," you begged.

It was all he needed to hear to cum, a cry of your name falling from his lips. His cock filled with you with what felt like an endless amount of his seed, his orgasm lasting for several seconds.

Finally, he collapsed on top of you, breathing heavily. He kissed whatever skin he could reach as he tried to catch his breath.

"That was pretty decent," you said breathily, a teasing tone lacing your voice.

"Just decent?" he asked, head lifting to glare at you affectionately.

"Sooooo decent."

He laughed and you shot him a grin.

"Seriously, Aaron. It was fucking amazing."

"I couldn't agree more. I can stay here forever." He kissed your jaw. "Unless I'm hurting you?"

You shook your head. "I kinda like your body weight on top of me. Feels nice."

"Good because I don't think I can move yet."

You laughed warmly and wrapped your arms around him to hold him tightly against you. "You're pretty cute like this."

"Did you just call me cute?" he mumbled against your skin.

"Mhmm."

"Thanks, baby," he said with a little chuckle. "You're pretty damn cute too."

"Just cute?" you teased.

He lifted his head to look at you and smiled warmly. "You are absolutely the most beautiful woman I have ever seen in my life. And right now? God...literal perfection."

You blushed, your entire face turning red. "Aaron..."

"I'm serious, (Y/N)."

"Thank you," you said softly.

He lifted himself up so he could look down at you better. "I'm going to tell you every second of every day so you don't forget."

You laughed lightly. "You're a dork."

"And you're sexy."

You laughed harder. "I kinda like this game."

He kissed you gently before sitting up entirely. "How 'bout I run a bath for you, hmm?"

"That sounds nice."

You watched him as he walked to your adjoining bathroom and began to fill up the tub. You smiled as you watched him, feeling incredibly happy. He was so handsome and sweet...just like you'd thought he was when you first met him.

You had never been thankful for an unsub or a case before...but you were thankful for this one. This case changed everything for you and you had a strong feeling the change was going to be permanent.

Hotch turned around to look at you with a warm smile and you felt it in your bones, this deep adoration for the man in front of you. You felt happy for the first time in years, really and truly happy--and you knew it was going to last forever.

#Aaron Hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x reader smut #hotch x reader #hotch x reader smut #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner smut #criminal minds #criminal minds smut #hotch smut

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mggsv · 11 months

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The Send Off (18+)

f!reader x aaron hotchner x spencer reid

summary: you’re an agent who worked with the BAU team recently, and they just couldn’t give you a more better goodbye than this

warnings: pussy eating, threesome, nervous Spencer, cock warming, oral (male receiving), minor spanking

“M..mpf”

your back arched as your face sinked deeper into Spencer’s lap. you were doing your best- holding on to that pool in your stomach that so desperately wanted to burst.

“That’s it..” Hotch’s voiced cooed from behind your twitching hips, “you’re being so good, aren’t you? Reid, tell her she’s being a good girl.” you whimper as his tongue entered you once more. Spencer, who was fully clothed against your cheek, shuddered. His face was red and his hands shook while he entangled his hands in your curly hair. “Yes..You’re a-a good girl.”

Hotch had you cuffed from behind, your ass in the air while he devoured your sex. Spencer, in front. He was nervous- Hotch said to give him time, you wondered if it was the first time they’ve fucked together. Hotch’s tongue fucked you so good…

“ah…F-Fuck” you cry out, Hotch seeming to press deeper into you. You felt Spencer’s hand leave your hair, his steady breath reassuring you. Your eyes stare up at him, best you can, while he unbuckled his pants. His cock strange free and hit you right on the cheek, hard and leaking. You felt your sex clench around Hotch’s tongue at the sight (earning quite the chuckle from him).

“Look at that cock…he’s beautiful isn’t he baby?” Hotch gave your ass a small spank while he planted kisses on your folds. “Yes…so beautiful.” you murmur. Spencer angles himself best he could before grabbing your chin. How you hated being cuffed and helpless..though you loved their complete dominance over your body. Being tongue fucked and eaten out like Hotch’s job depended on it, and Spencer Reid’s cock in your mouth while he let out the prettiest moan you’ve ever heard.

His his thrusted cautiously, but you could tell he wasn’t holding on very much longer. He gripped your hair while his cock touched the back of your throat. “So warm..” Spencer moaned, “So good for me”

Hotch pulled back, his fingers replacing his tongue. You shivered and shut your eyes tight. They enjoyed your body…it felt like heaven, a proper send off from helping them so well.

“Feels so good..” Spencer muttered, he groaned softly into the air as he rutted into your mouth. Your hips moved against Hotch’s fingers while he watched you both in lust. You moaned around Spencer’s cock, your hips getting restless. You wanted to…

Spencer’s movements sped up, him fully into your mouth. You choked every now and then but he didn’t stop- you taste the leaking pre cum on your tongue. It made you so wet..

“Look at that my sweet girl..you can’t hold it can you?” You could hear the smirk in Hotch’s voice while his fingers inched deeper into your sex, hands coated with slik. “F-…Mhm”

your eyes felt heavy. your body going slack against the both of them. You hear Spencer choke out a moan before the seed flowed into your mouth. Your whole body exploded- your orgasm hitting you hard.

“Good girl..let it out” Hotch rubbed your back soothingly, Spencer still rutting into your mouth, making sure you swallowed everything.

#aaron hotch hotchner #aaron hotch fanfiction #hotch x reader #hotchreid #reid #spencer reid #sub spencer reid #spencer reid x reader smut #hotch x reader smut #criminal minds #mgg x reader #spencer reid x reader #aaron hotch #mgg #aaron hotch x spencer reid #f reader

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bucker3911 · 3 months

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the-hopeless-haze · 1 year

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I Do Bad Things With You

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x reader

Word Count: 4.9k

Warnings: smut. nsfw mdni

Summary: You don't feel like you're a good agent. Aaron assures you that you are. And then he fucks you. or inn other words, I think I need someone to study my brain because I did cry in my boss' office for very similar reasons to this and I am very much attracted to her but we did not fuck in her office and she has no idea I want her I just have breakdowns at work because 1) it sucks and 2) I am mentally unwell. I just truly don't know if this fic was birthed from the worst compulsory heterosexuality of all time or if I'm truly just an insane bisexual (I think it's the latter) but when I tell you I have not thought about Hotchner in years I MEAN years. I haven't watched Criminal Minds in like five years until today to write this fic. But like. He is FINE. y'all know. you're here. come for my unhinged summary stay for the smut idk

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“I can’t do this anymore,” you mutter under your breath, hating how the tears fall anyway, how you can’t stop them. “I’m not doing a good enough job. I need to leave.”

“What are you talking about?” Aaron asks you. “Why do you feel that way?”

“It’s just… it’s just I feel like I can never get a grip. Like I can’t ever get everything done that needs to get done. Like I’m not good enough.”

“You’re good enough. You’re a good agent. You come in and you do your job,” he says gently. “I don’t need anything else from you.”

You were usually so put together, so stoic, even, so sure of yourself. He can’t quite believe you’re in his office like this, past the verge of tears, sitting across from him weeping.

“I’m proud of you.”

“For what?” you ask, lifting your head to look at him.

“For the effort you put in. How you’re a new agent and you still proved yourself to my team. You’re living up to your potential and then some. We appreciate you. I appreciate you.”

“You just have to say that.”

“No. I don’t have to say anything. I’m telling you what I see and what I believe. And I’m not letting you quit.”

“But, sir, I—“

“I won’t accept it,” he says firmly but quietly. “You’re too good of an agent to lose. You know this. You know your grades were stellar and your psychology background is enviable. You know you passed every test with flying colors. The adjustment to being a full-fledged agent in the first year is tough, to say the least. It’s grueling. Getting accustomed and used to death, danger and just the pressure of the job is something that not everyone can handle. But you can. I know you can. If I lost you, I’d lose an asset. You’re an excellent profiler. It’s intuitive for you.”

There it is, though, that behavior analyst part of your brain and you noticed how he said “I” and not “we” and how his eyes softened, how he wasn’t looking at you sternly and stoically but there was more of a tenderness in his dark eyes.

He likes you. He means what he says. You know he does.

But that isn’t enough. You don’t believe what he says. You don’t believe you’re worthy. This job takes up so much of your waking hours but when you’re outside of it you have next to nothing. You’re not close to family here in Virginia. You don’t have a significant other. You’re not home enough to have a dog. And you just feel like you’ve been letting yourself go since you only seem to have time to eat, sleep and work.

You’ve always been an anxious person. You’ve managed to quell the thoughts wracking your brain with years of practice and medications to a point where you can function, to a point where you made it through school and made it into the FBI. Impostor syndrome dies hard, though. You keep trying to swallow down your tears but it’s fucking impossible when you’re like this. You dry them on the sleeves of your blazer, biting your lip nervously.

“Don’t cry. It’s okay,” Aaron says, breaking through your thoughts.

“It’s not okay,” you murmur. “I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“I shouldn’t be breaking down crying.”

“You’re human,” he says gently. “This job is overwhelming.”

“It doesn’t seem to get to you.”

“It does. It still does. I… I’ve been doing this a lot longer than you.”

“I just don’t think I can do this, Hotchner. With all due respect, I need to put my two weeks in,” you say, strengthening your weakened resolve.

“No,” he refuses, shaking his head. “What do I have to do to get you to see what I see?”

You sigh, leaning forward and bracing your head in your hands. “I don’t know.”

You feel him before you see him, refusing to lift your head up as the tears started streaming down your face. He kneels in front of you, taking your hands gently from your cheeks, but your eyes are still squeezing shut. “Look at me,” he orders.

“Hotchner, I—“

“It’s Hotch. You know that. Or… you can call me Aaron. Just call me Aaron. Look at me.”

Finally, you blink your eyes open, tears spilling over, and he squeezes both your hands gingerly.

“Good. Here’s what you’re going to do. You’re going to go home for the night. You’re going to take your mind off of the job. And you’re going to come back tomorrow morning and everyone in here is going to talk about how much you’re missed when you’re gone. Because we all value you. But you need to take the time for yourself. You’re burnt out. You’re not a bad agent. You’re just mean to yourself and you shouldn’t be.”

It’s not lost on you, the way he’s still touching you when you don’t think you’ve seen him so much as brush against anyone else on the team. Is he…?

You squeeze his hands back, forcing yourself to smile.

“There we go,” he smiles back. “See? Do you feel better?”

“A little. Thank you, Hotch.”

“Please. You can call me Aaron in private,” he reiterates. He would have, could have, should have let you go by now. But he hasn’t.

“In private?”

“I don’t let just anyone use my first name. There’d be questions if you started using it especially since you called me SSA Hotchner for months before I got you to just say Hotchner at least. You’re a rule stickler, hm? I think that’s part of your problem.”

“You don’t strike me as the type to think rules are made to be broken,” you counter. Sure. You were a stickler. You were. Deferential to authority - that deserved it. You spoke out, and you would speak out of turn if anything felt wrong or uncomfortable. Rules made things feel safer. Still. You’d call out the unjust. And you think Aaron is the same way.

“Some of them are,” he muses.

“You yelled at me,” you say suddenly. “My third week.”

He furrows his brow, trying to recall the incident you were talking about and then he nods. “You were reckless. You put yourself and Morgan in danger. You walked straight into an ambush. It was a mistake. A rookie mistake. A mistake you learned from. You never did it again.”

“But I—“

“It’s been almost a year since then,” he says, gently. “I don’t hold it against you. I’ve had to pull everyone who works here aside for something. And I’ve been pulled aside myself. No one’s perfect. I… I raised my voice because I was worried about you. Not because I was angry with you.”

“Okay,” you breathe out, nodding. “Okay.”

“I wish you could see what I see,” he says.

“Hm?”

“I see a strong, capable, intelligent young woman who’s an amazing profiler — you can glean someone’s familial background in record time. I see a woman who holds her ground and then some in interrogations.”

“I’m crying in my boss’ office right now,” you titter awkwardly.

“It doesn’t matter. You’re still all of those things. I see a beautiful woman who’s passionate about her career, who wants to do the best she can…”

He trails off. You wonder if he realizes the weight of what he said.

Always walking the line of professionalism. Making any comments regarding your appearance was crossing it, even if it was as benign and modest as “beautiful”. It was still a step too far.

But you, you’re depressed and anxious, and you’ll take whatever you can get.

He’s still kneeling in front of you.

You know it would be stupid, especially when he’s a broken man himself, even if he denies it to everybody. His wife cheated on him. It was hard, with the job, to have a stable relationship with anyone outside of it. You know this. You’re living it.

He’s still touching you and your skin is on fire now.

“I’m sorry,” he says, but he makes no effort to move, no effort to stop staring through your eyes to your soul. Is he profiling you? Trying to see if your breath hitched when he let the compliment slip?

“Don’t be,” you say breathily.

“It was inappropriate,” he says, and he does get up then, wincing at the stiffness in his knees from crouching in front of you for so long. You miss the warmth of his hands already. “You’re dismissed, agent. Go home and take care of yourself.”

Your emotions flip like a switch, it’s just how it’s always been, and you use it to your advantage in a room full of profilers. It’s good to be unpredictable, a wild card. You don’t even mean to. You just are. You can’t help the words that come out of your mouth next. He stood up, so he’s towering over you as you sit in the seat across from his desk, but he’s looking down at you, waiting on your next sentence. And what you say is, “Agent? I thought we were on first-name basis, Aaron?”

It’s the first time you’ve said his first name, and it goes right through him. He wasn’t lying. Not many people do have the privilege to use it. None of his subordinates would be brave enough, maybe not even if he gave them explicit permission like he gave to you. It’s intimate, all these walls up in this bureaucracy that even something as simple as a woman using his first name could drive him up the wall like it would an upstanding Christian man in Regency England. Rules. Rules to be broken.

Aaron whispers your first name, and it’s barely audible, but you hear it in his low, soft baritone. Not the first time, but the only time he’s said it without your last name tacked on the end of it. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what, Aaron?”

You’re teasing, now, and he wonders if it’s just a reflex, trying to gain back some of the power you lost by coming in here crying, or if you genuinely want something from him besides reassurance and a couple of hours off from work. It was maddening at first, trying to figure you out. He still doesn’t know exactly who you are and he’s resigned himself to the fact that maybe he’d never be able to nail you down.

“Don’t,” Aaron says again, looking at you sternly as you stand up.

“What is it that you don’t want me to do, Aaron?” you ask, and you’re still not eye to eye but you’re closer now, and his eyes never left your face throughout the whole conversation anyway.

He says your name again like it’s a curse under his breath. “You know exactly what you’re doing. Stop it.”

“Use your words, Aaron.”

“Stop teasing me,” he murmurs, looking away from you for the first time, down at the floor. You never expected him to be so… shy.

“I’m teasing you?” you ask, feigning innocence. You didn’t have to be a profiler to see how he was getting tenser as you continue this conversation.

“Yes,” he says, looking back up at you, an edge to his voice you hadn’t heard before. “And I suggest you stop.”

“Or else?” you say before your brain can catch up. You’re playing with fire. You know you are.

But you like him. Tall, dark, handsome, nothing like the men you’ve been with before. Other men were intimidated when he walked into the room. And you being you… you always wanted to break him down into a crying, blubbering mess, and be the only one who got to see him like that. Break the stoic wall and get to see him. Human.

And if he was this reactive to you just saying his name?

Lord help both of you.

“Please,” he murmurs. “Go home for the day.”

“Is that to help me, or you?”

He shakes his head, smiling a little. “Perhaps both of us.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t jump at the chance to get my resignation if I make things so… hard… for you, Aaron,” you say, and you move a little closer, his breath hitching audibly in his throat.

Again. He says your name like it’s the worst curse in the book, hissing it like it physically hurts him, and you know, maybe you are.

“A little selfish, maybe. I’d miss you too much,” he admits. “And I meant what I said. I’d lose an asset. You’re a stellar agent.”

You don’t really know what to say, now, but he continues.

“Profile me,” he whispers. “In this moment. What am I thinking?”

“So you don’t have to say it out loud?”

“Mm.”

“You want me, Aaron,” you say shakily, losing your resolve almost as quickly as you gained it back. “I don’t think you’d have to be a profiler to figure that out.”

“Is it that obvious?” he asks.

“Right now… yes.”

“You need me. You need me to show you how valued you really are,” Aaron says, searching your eyes for confirmation that you want this, too. As always, though, you’re unreadable. “Say it. Let me show you my appreciation.”

God. What in the world? Your brain is fuzzy with lust, and never in a million years would you have thought this is how today would’ve gone. Mondays back in the office are always the worst, piles of paperwork from the cases prior to sift through and file and the anticipation of when you’d be on the road or up in the air next always gnawed at your stomach. You fully expected to give your notice and come home crying. You didn’t foresee the prospect of being utterly fucked by your boss who very much did not want you to resign.

You know why the rules are in place. Dating coworkers was messy anyway, never mind dating someone in this line of work. Still… you thought it made sense in a way. The only person who was really going to understand your crazy schedule was someone who was working the same hours.

So you nod, giving him full permission to do as he pleases.

His lips meet yours, surprisingly soft and gentle, akin to the way his hands squeezed yours before. “I can’t believe I held myself back from doing this for this long,” he mumbles against your mouth, then he pulls you in an embrace, leaving hot open-mouthed kisses on the side of your neck where he can reach. “I need you here. I need you to promise me you’ll stay.”

“I’ll stay, Aaron.”

“I’ve wanted your body since the second you walked into this building. I need you. You ground me. Make me feel better, human. Like maybe I could exist outside of the field and outside of this office.”

“Did you know I was struggling?”

“You hide it well. I knew you were frustrated, but the last case was tough and we all are a little on edge. I’m sorry. I should’ve been there for you to lean on, honey,” Aaron says, moving his head back to face you, eyes meeting yours earnestly. “I want you to always come to me if you need anything. Anything.”

You don’t say anything, just hum contently, pressing your mouth back to his for a kiss that starts off chaste and quickly becomes heated, his hands cupping the curve of your ass.

“Answer me,” he says firmly. “Promise me you’ll always come to me.”

“I promise,” you agree.

“Good girl,” he affirms. “You’re such a good girl. Never have to worry about you doing your job. You always get your reports to me on time, you always make brilliant deductions when we’re going over cases, you always make sure the rest of the team doesn’t need anything… such a good girl.”

You kiss him fiercely, the voice in your head screaming he was your boss and both of your careers are on the line if this goes south long silenced. His large hands on your ass pull you closer to him, and you feel his hardening cock against you as he does. “Aaron,” you choke out breathily.

“Feel me? That’s what you do to me, honey.”

You snake a hand between your bodies and palm him through his dress pants, and you can tell he wasn’t expecting that to be your next move from the way his cheeks flush and he groans heavily. “This is about you,” he manages to say, taking your hand away from his clothed cock. “All about you. Go sit on my desk, honey.”

You do as he says, squeezing your thighs together as he follows you and takes his suit jacket off, revealing his tasteful button-down underneath. “Good girl,” he whispers, spreading your legs with hands, kneading the flesh of your thighs as he does so, letting the fabric of your skirt ride up.

And then he digs his nails under the thin sheer of your tights and rips them. “Aaron!” you hiss in surprise.

“I’ll buy you a new pair,” he responds almost dismissively, easing the torn fabric down the length of your legs, kissing the swell of your calves as he takes your heels off and places them on the floor underneath the desk.

“I’m more worried about how I’m going to walk out of here,” you say, smiling.

“I sent them all out on different tasks and told them to get lunch first. They’ll be gone for a while.”

“Did you plan this?” you ask, raising your eyebrows.

“Not exactly,” he smirks. “But now you can be as loud as you need to be.”

“Aaron,” you say, almost scolding, but whatever you were going to say after that is lost in the recesses of your mind as you feel his mouth on yours again, hot and ready, tongue gliding against yours with ease. He shrugs your blazer off, too, leaving you in just a black tank top and your skirt that was hiked up to your waist.

“I believe regulations are to wear long sleeve button-downs underneath blazers,” he says lowly. You know it’s a lie. If Garcia can dress the way she does there are certainly not strict restrictions on what you can wear, even if you’re a field agent. But you’ll play along.

“I believe regulations are not to have your subordinate spread out on your desk in front of you, sir,” you retort.

Aaron chuckles deeply at that. This is how you usually were, sarcastic and snippy, even with him at times. Funny. “Rules and regulations,” he muses. “I think I’m alright with those two being broken.”

And with that his fingers of his right hand start ghosting your cunt, pressing the thin cotton of your panties, groaning lowly at how wet you are. “You’re soaked, honey,” he says. “Can I feel you? Please.”

“Yes, Aaron, please touch me,” you nod.

He pushes aside your panties, slipping his index finger in slowly, catching your lips with his in the process.

“Want to make you feel so good, so much better,” he murmurs, starting slow and building up pressure before he inserts another finger, stretching you out, making you impossibly wetter, reaching depths of you that you couldn’t reach yourself with your much shorter and thinner fingers. “Lift your hips,” he instructs, and in one swift motion, he slips your panties off, pocketing them in his dress pants. “Good girl.”

“Not fair, Aaron,” you say.

“What’s not fair, honey?”

“You’re still fully dressed,” you point out, reaching for his tie to loosen it. You were absolutely soaked, you could feel it, and you wonder if his desk will stain from your slick. You untuck his shirt from his pants and run your hands over his stomach, scars under the pads of your fingers, God, you want to lick every inch of him.

“Mm. I can help you remedy that,” he agrees, meeting your hands when you were halfway through the buttons on his pristine white shirt, pulling it over his head along with his undershirt. You reach for his belt buckle and he stops you. “Not yet. Let me do something first.”

And before you know it his tongue is on you, swirling incessant circles around your swollen clit, and you can tell he’s not taking his time now. He wants to bring you over the edge and fast, and you wonder how long it will be before the rest of the team do return from their extended lunch breaks. You’ve been eaten out before, sure, but to use a cliched metaphor for the umpteenth time in human history, you finally figured out what women meant when they said their man ate them like it was their last meal on death row. You clamp your legs against his head, and he moans, sending vibrations through your cunt, damn near sending you over the edge as you pant and whimper.

“Am I not making you feel good?” Aaron looks up in worry.

“What? Why would you say that?”

“You’re not screaming. I suppose I should try harder,” he says, furrowing his brow and then he adds his fingers back, fucking deep into you. His tongue focuses on your clit and your thighs are shaking and you gasp, no longer able to hold yourself up seated, leaning back and bracing yourself on your elbows.

“Aaron, I’m so close,” you moan, trying to fight the urge to push him away as the pressure builds. You squeeze your thighs tighter and the sudden force of it drags Aaron’s tongue flat against your clit, and that’s what sends you over the edge, whining his name over and over again.

He doesn’t stop.

“Aaron,” you choke out, trying to back away from him due to the overstimulation. “Aaron. Please.”

“You can be louder than that,” he says, not bothering to lift his head, voice muffled by your wet cunt. “I’m not stopping until you reach a decibel level I’m satisfied with. And I will know if you’re faking.”

You’ve never had anyone go down on you for multiple rounds. You were lucky if you came once with previous partners. Part of the reason you never wanted to make a move with Aaron was that you figured he would ruin you for other men.

And God. Were you right.

You only hope you’re ruining him for other women.

You know you’re next orgasm will be embarrassingly close as he never gave you a chance to come down from the first one. You didn’t expect it to come on like it did though, your right hand carded in his jet black hair, just again, him flattening his tongue against your clit as his fingers continued to scissor you open and you can’t help it, gasping for air, shouting, yelling, keening his name. “Aaron,” you plead. “I can’t give you another one. Please.”

“Shh. Good girl. You can and you will. For me,” he commands authoritatively.

And you can. And you do.

The next time, mercifully, Aaron stands up, and leaves you alone to breathe. He kisses you and you taste yourself on his tongue. He’s achingly hard now, a quite visible tent noticeable in his dress pants, cheeks red from exertion, everything from his nose to his chin wet with your slick.

What a vision.

How were you ever going to get this out of your head?

“Can I be inside you? Please?” he asks.

“Yes,” you affirm.

Aaron lets you unbuckle his pants and lets them pool to the floor, helping you out of your tank top and bra, sucking and biting on your nipples and the flesh of your breasts for a few moments before he steps out of his shoes and boxers, completely bare in front of you.

“God, Aaron,” you breathe. “You’ve really been holding out on me.”

“Yeah?” he asks, and his cheeks flush redder. “I could say the same for you, sweetheart.”

“How long?”

“I told you,” he says lowly, lining his cock with your entrance. “Since the second you walked in this building.”

“Why didn’t you ever say anything?” you ask, but it’s a loaded question if not a stupid one. There’s a myriad of reasons why you don’t tell someone who works under you that you want to fuck them stupid. That you like them. That you love them?

You frown slightly. You don’t think you could handle it if this was the only time you got to be with him like this.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, lifting your chin with his thumb. “You promised you would tell me.”

“Is this… is this a one-time thing, Aaron?” You ask tentatively.

“I don’t want it to be,” he answers quickly. “It’d be a daily occurrence if I had my way.”

With that, he grabs your hips, and looks at you for consent, then slams all the way in when you nod in affirmation. Neither of you can help the moans and groans escaping your mouths at that, you from feeling completely full and him being fully sheathed in you.

“I… I love you,” he says, pressing his sweat-sheened forehead to yours. “You don’t have to say it back. I know how dangerous and inappropriate and difficult this situation is never mind adding emotions to it. And I… I’m not good at them in the first place. I just… I just need you to know that. I want to be with you. All the time.”

“Again, Aaron, why did you never… fuck,” you trail off as he starts moving his hips, setting a slow and languid pace.

“I don’t know. I was afraid,” he chuckles.

“Of me?”

“You’re intimidating. You’re beautiful, smart, and capable. To tell you I wanted you…”

“You’re calling me intimidating?” you ask. “You? Of all people?”

“I’ve seen you interrogate. Baby-faced assassin, hm? You’ve shaken some grown men in their boots.”

“Including you?”

“Including me,” he chuckles, then softens. “Seeing you cry like that today… I… it broke my heart, honey. I never thought I’d see you break. I’d do anything to make you never feel like that again. You need to stay.”

“I already promised you, Aaron,” you say, biting your lip as he somehow angles his cock deeper in you. “I love you.”

Kissing you fiercely, he squeezes your hips, and you can’t wait to see if there’ll be bruises there tomorrow in the shape of his fingertips. “God, you’re fucking squeezing my cock, honey,” he grunts, and you feel yourself clench more at his words. You’ve never heard him swear. Ever. “I’m not going to last long if you keep doing that.”

“I’m surprised you lasted this long, old man,” you tease.

“You’d be surprised how much stamina I do have,” he threatens, rolling his eyes at you. “You’ll see tonight when I have more time with you.”

“How presumptuous.”

He scoffs, doesn’t say anything, but starts running over your clit with his thumb, kissing you deeply, fucking you faster and harder, setting a much more brutal pace.

“You just need me that bad, Aaron?” you ask, hellbent on seeing him break. “You need to fuck me all the time now that you’ve had me?”

“Yes,” he pants. “Need you all the time. Every day. Need to fuck this pretty cunt. Make you know you’re appreciated. Valued. Loved. Never want to hear you talk about yourself like that ever again. Not…I’ll worship you. Kiss the ground you walk on. Fuck you until you can’t stand. Whatever it takes.”

“What about you, Aaron? How do you feel right now?”

“So fucking good,” he groans. “So fucking good. Such a good girl. You keep sucking my cock back in every thrust, you feel that, honey? So wet, so warm, fuck, I’d stay inside you forever.”

“Yeah, Aaron? Hmm? I—“ your teasing backfired on you, and before you can think of anything else to say, you come on his cock, your nails dragging down his back stalling his motions to stutters and he’s asking you, begging you, “Please let me cum inside you,” he begs. “Please, honey.”

You nod breathlessly, unable to speak, and you don’t think he’d be able to make it out of you in time completely if you’d said no because you feel his seed fill you as you’re still riding out the aftershocks of your own orgasm and he’s moaning your name in choked sobs and it’s the hottest thing you’ve ever fucking seen or heard.

“I love you,” he whispers, dark eyes looking up at you from where his face now rested in the swell of your breasts. “I love you. And we’re going to make this work come hell or high water.”

“I love you,” you say back once you catch your breath. “Are you still sending me home?”

He laughs. “You look and smell like sex.”

“Do you think you look or smell any different? You did this to me,” you say, messing up his sweat-streaked hair more with your fingers. “I think your boss should send you home, too.”

“Hm. Perhaps I could convince him,” he says, giving you a wide smile.

He helps you get dressed, kissing you wherever he can reach in between and it takes much longer than it would have had you dressed yourself. You’re not complaining. But there’s no fixing your hair or your tattered tights. No fixing Aaron’s disheveled hair, either, or the sweat stains around his armpits from when you teased him for so long.

“Follow me home, honey,” he instructs. “Round two.”

Maybe you should have mental breakdowns at work more often.

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