pleasepleaseplease, if you're willing ofc 🫶, can we get a little something where jack is trying his absolute hardest to get hotch and r together during the christmas season?! (i can only imagine the romcom chaos and deliciousness that'll involve haha!) 🙏❤️🎄
mistletoe mischief
the dream!!!!! & jack receives some assistance from morgan also :) cw; bau fem!reader, mutual pining, mentions of food, typical cm case talk, bau family banter, feelings realized (with some making out <3), fluff 🤭 wc; 1.5k
It had become tradition for everyone to go to Dave's house for Christmas Eve. And that meant everyone - the team, the kids, partners. The more the merrier.
It was a time to enjoy each other's company, laugh, exchange gifts and indulge in delicious food and treats. It was a nice reprieve from the hectic stress that the holidays brought, and everyone was happy to have it.
Whereas Jack had a different approach to the night. He had decided, that tonight would be the night you and his dad got together. He would make sure of it.
Only, it wasn't as easy as he thought.
All night Jack's done what he could, in hopes of initiating something between the two of you. Dinner was easy, he had sweetly asked you to switch seats with him - how could you have possibly said no? He persuaded his father to team up with you for the 'reindeer games', like holiday bingo, or unscrambling Christmas songs. That had been a small victory; Aaron giving you a celebratory hug when you were the first to call bingo.
But it still wasn't what he hoped. Things like that worked at school, if someone had a crush on another - they sat together in the cafeteria, they teamed up as partners in class, they played together at recess. (Sadly it was snowing outside, and Uncle Dave didn't have a swing set.)
Defeated, Jack found himself slouching on the couch, pouting alone.
Morgan had been the first to notice his minor sulking, making his way over. "What's on your mind big man?"
"Nothing." He mumbled under his breath, picking at the cookies on the plate you had put together for him.
"Nothing? For someone Santa's visiting tonight, you don't look very excited." He sat down, giving Jack's shoulder a pat, an invitation to open up. "Wanna tell me what's up?"
Jack kept his eyes on his treats, toying with the idea of sharing before sighing, asking if Dad liked you. Like really, liked you.
Derek's lips pursed. His expression changed to one of uncertainty, mulling over the situation.
"That's the million dollar question right there. We think so," Derek confessed, thinking back to all the times where you and Aaron seemed much too comfortable. The constant, lingering stares. Aaron going soft on you at times. The fear in your eyes when Hotch had encountered an unsub at gunpoint. This had occurred recently, and afterwards when Hotch was deemed safe and sound, you had refused to leave his side altogether.
"What have you seen? I'm sure you know what's going on more than the rest of us."
Jack nodded, perking up slightly at his uncle's vague admittance. His lips pulled into a smile, "Well, she is over a lot."
Derek grinned, his head tilting to the side. "Really."
"Yeah," Jack took a bite of his cookie. "We have a lot of fun. She brings over pizza for movie night every Friday if she and Dad aren't working. Cheese for me. Pepperoni and sausage for her and Dad."
"They share, huh?"
"And then Dad spent a lot of time picking out her Christmas present. But they haven't kissed." Jack sighed frustratedly, an innocent confusion on his face. "That's what grown ups do when they love each other, right?"
"It is pretty standard," Derek affirmed, amused himself at the confirmation something was, in fact, going on. It's only been driving the team crazy for weeks.
He, as well as the others, have confronted you about it numerous times, knowing that if they went to Hotch instead, he would confess nothing. But you reacted similarly. A shrug and a "just friends" before switching to a different topic.
"I tried all night too." Jack's bottom lip protruded in a pout once more. "But nothing works."
"Well..." A smile formed on Derek's face. "Maybe you just need a little extra help."
-
"Rally up the troops." Penelope clapped at you, to which you snorted an airy laugh through your nose. "Don't just sit there. I have been shopping since Halloween and I've masterly selected each and every gift and I have been itching to see all your reactions. I almost gave you yours two weeks ago."
"Okay, okay," You surrendered, throwing your hands up. You knew better than to face Penelope's driven wrath.
"You better," Her expression was sharp, pointing a warning finger at you. She hurried away as another laugh escaped you, while you also opted to take one more drink.
As she left the room, Jack entered.
"Hey Jackers," Your face brightened at the sight of him, putting your drink aside. "I heard it's almost time for presents." You raised your eyebrows, a soft smile on your face. "You excited?"
Jack nodded, a glint in his eyes. It was rather mischievous, similar to the one he gave Aaron when he wanted to delay going to bed early, only much more so. "Can you help me with something first?"
"Of course I can," You agreed within a split second's notice. Jack grabbed your hand and led you away just as fast. "Is everything okay?"
"Yeah."
He led you towards Dave's foyer. It was dimly lit, shoes scattered amongst the welcome mat. God forbid someone stained Dave's carpeting.
Aaron and Morgan were just coming back inside; Aaron looked a bit agitated, per usual, while Derek was sporting his famous, cheeky grin.
" - I don't know why you would say that." Aaron continued, tossing an annoyed look over his shoulder to Morgan. As his gaze returned forward, and made eye contact with you, the softness in his face returned instantly.
"Is everything okay?" You wondered, eyebrows furrowing in confusion as you and Jack came to a stop.
"Morgan said my car alarm was going off." Aaron shoved his keys back into his pocket, leaving Morgan's side and favoring yours. "And evidently lied."
"Lied?" A laugh escaped you, perplexedly looking at Morgan, seeking an explanation as well.
"My bad." He waved it off, giving Jack a wink. That was suspicious, but he switched topics before anything could be said. "Oh, would you look at that."
His hand raised, his index finger pointing upwards, directing right between you and Aaron. Both your gazes followed.
Mistletoe.
Oh.
Your eyes shot to Derek's, wide and surprised. In contrast, Aaron's face remained neutral, but a deep blush was growing on his cheeks, as well tinting his ears.
"Well, we'll leave you two to it." He left it at that, shrugging nonchalantly before gesturing Jack away.
"What... Jack?" You started, turning around. "I thought you needed..."
The two of them were gone before you could finish your sentence. However, you did view the tail end of Derek giving Jack a high five.
So, they had been in cahoots. You scoffed a laugh, shaking your head.
Now alone, your eyes connected with Aaron's, who was standing there rather anxiously. Naturally, there was a touch of tension in the air, but it wasn't awkward by any means. A mutual excitement, as well as relief. An electricity.
Aaron hadn't been anxious, but buzzing with anticipation.
You've been wanting to kiss him. He's been yearning to kiss you. The time had just never been right, nor had it the perfect moment. In addition, there was always the fear of rejection.
And suddenly you felt like an idiot for even contemplating such, because from the longing you noticed within his pupils, you've always been on the same page.
Aaron chucked, stating the obvious and peering back up at the mistletoe. "I think we were set up."
"You don't say." You quipped in response, a nervous laugh escaping you. Oh my god was repeatedly circling in your head. You shifted your weight from one foot to another. There was so much you wanted to say, having gone through the potential conversation in your mind more times than you could count. But now, as the opportunity finally presented itself - nothing.
Aaron on the other hand, simply decided to show you.
He wasted no time - his confidence was quite literally the hottest thing you could fathom. All in one smooth motion, his hand cupped your cheek and he placed his lips firmly onto yours.
A spark of energy rushed through you, the both of you in fact. Every nerve in your body was suddenly alive and heightened. Your fingers clutched onto the sides of his shirt, reciprocating the passion.
Aaron's kiss was gentle, his fingertips rough but incredibly soft where they rest against your skin. It made sense, it mirrored him perfectly. A hard exterior, but tender underneath.
And longing to be even closer, Aaron shoved you lightly against the wall, slotting a leg between your thighs. That way, he could lose himself more into you, and you could fully succumb to him.
Your head was fuzzy, feeling lightheaded in the best way possible as your heart fluttered in your chest. Now that Aaron had kissed you, you were done for. From now on, you refused to go each day without receiving another. You couldn't.
"We're missing presents." You teased once the two of you pulled away for air, cheeks flushed. And immediately missing his contact, your lips easily found their way back to his. You could feel his smile, a happy sigh leaving him.
Toto: Birthdays are a horror for me, I forget them. I just don’t understand why people celebrate getting another year older. But our wedding anniversary is something very special for me. It was a brilliant day in 2011, which is why we write each other a card on this date every year, if we can’t be together.
Susie: At least I always write a card….
Toto: …you always, I almost always 😂 (x)
Happy 13th Wedding Anniversary you two. Enjoy your special day ❤️❤️❤️
summary: after one heated and spontaneous night together, aaron can’t seem to get his pretty subordinate (or her pussy) out of his head.
content warnings: smut, 18+, minors do not interact!, pussy!whipped hotch, age gaps, dirty talk, rough unprotected office sex, multiple orgasms, oral (f receiving, mentions of m receiving in the past), choking, hair pulling, ass slapping, groping, some angst if u squint, love confessions and some asshole behavior, hotch is a munch and masturbates in his office.
word count: 6.5k (yea…)
a/n: this may seem a lil out of character for hotch? we all know he’s a professional thru and thru but the point is this is that he’s pussy whipped! also lots of flashbacks in italics whoopsies <3
Aaron was sure he was going crazy.
Or maybe he already was, and he was just starting to feel the effects of his craziness.
Aaron Hotchner, usually poised in a way that unwillingly intimidated others and made them back away from him, was unraveling in a way he had never done so before.
Having a one-night stand with his subordinate, the same subordinate he had been harboring painfully arising feelings for literal years, often led to such a reaction.
He could still recount every single detail from that night, from the moment the tension between you both began building itself up to the moment it actually snapped. It was as if he had everything engraved in his mind; the views he never thought he'd get to see to the things he never thought he would get to feel etched into his brain.
It had all been a blur that night, and a part of Aaron still couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that you reciprocated his attraction towards you, letting him, not only touch you but also fuck you.
You two had stayed up late in your shared hotel room only to talk, really. After you and the rest of the team had wrapped up a somewhat good case, you only wanted to rant to one another. Aaron knew that you weren’t a ‘whiskey girl,’ or whatever it was that you said, but he had offered you a drink either way.
Neither one of you had even gotten tipsy, so he couldn’t even blame it on the alcohol. But the connection had always been there, though, one thing finally leading to another and all the unsaid words and stolen glances between you both began to surface.
It was as if everything you both silently felt for another was starting to seep through and everything that hindered you from telling each other no longer mattered.
It had felt so hot, from the way you held him close with your legs wrapped around his waist to the messy yet passionate kisses you shared, your bodies connected beneath.
It was everything Aaron envisioned it to be. But, as magical and heated as it was, he was the one to have ended things before they even had a chance at starting.
The morning after, as soon as you had both untangled your bodies from one another and got dressed to get back home to Quantico, he had done the stupidest thing imaginable.
“We shouldn’t do this again.”
You froze in your spot, half-way through tugging your pants up your legs. You blink at him from where he stood on the other side of the bed, already dressed, “This?”
“Yes.” Aaron says, voice awfully neutral.
You frown, jutting out your bottom lip that same way you did when you were thinking, “May I ask why?”
He takes a deep breath, “I’m your boss,” he gives you a pointed look, as if he had to remind you after fucking you dumb, “and you’re my subordinate. This goes against several workplace regulations and if anyone were to find out we could both lose our jobs.”
You’re quiet for several moments after that, and Aaron uses the silence to his advantage to prepare for any arguments you could be thinking of to use against him. He can’t seem to read you, though, your expression pensive as you stare at the floor.
Then you shrug. “Okay.” You say, simple and nonchalant.
Aaron watches as you continue finishing getting ready and he doesn’t know if he should ask if you were actually okay with it.
He decides that it’s for the best, not getting any pushback or having to argue on why he’s just subconsciously pushing you away after having one of the best nights of his life.
“Okay.” He repeats, giving you a small nod, even though you weren’t looking at him. With one last glance to your surprisingly calm figure, he finishes collecting the rest of his things and heads out of the room.
Even after the team had checked out of their hotel and settled onto the jet, you didn’t spare him a second glance. You hadn’t necessarily moved to ignoring him or silently lashing out, but it was as if everything went back to normal, with no mentions or glances back to that night.
That should be what was driving him crazy; the way he didn’t know if you were only calm because you were planning on going to the higher-ups, to HR, about what had happened. If you were secretly planning on putting him on blast out of anger or betrayal or telling him that he had coerced you to sleep with him and threatened you in case you didn’t.
No. What was driving him crazy was that he couldn’t get you out of his head, even after he broke things off.
Everything was engraved into his mind, from the sight of you on your knees, mouth full of his cock while you stared up at him with tear-pricked eyelashes and basked in his praises. Or the way your nails dug into his skin as he thrusted into you and the way you felt around him, all while he took pleasure in the sweet sounds he emitted from you every second.
He was going mad, and the already established feelings he had for you weren’t helping, either.
Aaron stared at you from inside his office, studied your features from afar whilst you sat on your desk. Your face was set in a neutral expression, flickering your attention from your computer screens to the physical files in front of you, but all he could see was the same face and person morphed into the one that had been withering in pleasure underneath him.
“Hotch…” you whine, a hand wrapped around his bicep as he dipped a finger inside your glistening pussy.
He watched as your back arched off the bed, throwing your head back against the pillows at the feeling of his thick digit inside you, “What, sweetheart?” He asked, the nickname rolling of his tongue easily. “What do you need? Hm?”
Your hips stuttered as he inserted another finger, thrusting them in and out you, “Y-You. I want you. Inside me.” You peered at him through your fluttering lashes, your mascara smudged underneath your eyes from the tears that had slipped out while you were sucking his cock.
“Yeah?” His voice is filled with amusement and bewilderment, one part of him indulging in seeing you this way—all disheveled and needy for him—while the other was still stunned at the whole thing. “Want my cock inside you after you just had it in your mouth?”
You nod meekly at his words, a sweet pout adorning your flushed lips.
Despite the heat and tension that suffocated the room, Aaron’s heart fluttered at the sight of you. The way you were asking for him ever so bashfully after just giving him the best head of his life tugged at his heartstrings and made his cock twitch.
“Please,” you whisper, bucking your hips upwards. A stuttered gasp emits from your lips when you feel the tip of his dick prod at your sopping entrance, “Aaron…”
Aaron lets out a low, throaty groan at the sound of his first name mumbled in desperation, and he thinks back to all the times he’s thought about you like this. How many times he’s dreamed of having you underneath him, encaged by his broad figure and whining for him.
“I got you, sweet girl,” he says promisingly. He lifts himself to his full height on his knees, lining himself up with your entrance and holding onto the meat of your thigh. Another groan utters from the back of his throat, mixed in with your gasps and puffs of breath as he begins to sink inside you.
A knock on his office door forces Aaron to snap out of his train of thought. He looks down at himself, registering the painfully hard boner he was now sporting. Quickly, he scooted further into his desk so that the tent in his pants wouldn’t be visible by whoever was knocking on his door. Clearing his throat, he lets out a somewhat proper ‘come in.’
In walks Garcia, and Aaron doesn’t know if he should be thankful or mortified it was her out of all people.
“Sir?” She asks politely, files in hand and head tilted in an ever so Penelope manner. “We’re ready whenever you are.”
Right. It was barely nine in the morning and Aaron was already sporting a growing tent in his suit pants.
He nods, doing his best to feign being busy, “I’ll be there in five, Garcia.”
He wants to think he comes out as somewhat normal, but panic surges through him briefly when her expression turns into a curious one.
“Are you alright, sir?” She takes a step forward and Aaron has to hold himself back from screaming for her to stay where she is. “You look red and pale at the same time.”
He shakes his head, waving a hand dismissively yet good-naturedly, “I’m fine. Jack is coming down with something and I think I might be, too.”
Great. Now he was using his innocent son as a scapegoat for his own horniness and bad decisions. Some father he was.
Garcia nods, looking convinced enough before bidding him a nod shuffling out of his office and closing the door behind her.
Aaron lets out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding in. His boner had softened the slightest bit, and he was conflicted in trying to make it go down completely or taking care of it right here and now. But the thought of having to face his team after fucking himself into his fist mortified him. Of seeing you, right after fucking himself into his fist to the thought of you after leaving you hanging coldly.
He opted out of it, though it took more than five minutes to settle himself before heading over to the conference room. Once again, he tried to play it as casual as possible while he walked to his seat with everyone staring expectantly at him, including you.
“Let’s get started.”
The team’s briefings went on as so, everyone presenting their perspective cases and discoveries within them. It was a bit easier to lose focus of what he was thinking earlier when the gory crime scenes showed up on the TV screen each time someone went up, but all focus was lost when it was your turn.
You stood from your seat, taking the control from Penelope’s hands and talking everyone through the case you were currently focusing on.
Aaron held his fist up to his face as he tried to focus on the details of the case instead of you and your entire being. Your hair whipped out and into your face each time you looked from the screen and back to the team. The top part of your dress twisted with each turn and motion you made, the bottom part of it creasing along with it. Was it a new dress?
Didn’t matter. It didn’t compare to the pajama shorts he had slowly, almost tauntingly, pulled down your legs before–
“...makes me think he’s keeping them in a secluded space. He obviously likes the control and the pleasure of having his victims’ screams and cries for help to himself, so I’ve advised police to search condemned and empty areas far away from the city and even on the outskirts of the town.” You finished with a nod and once again Aaron was snapped away from his unholy thoughts.
While everyone else added their own commentary and advice, Aaron realized he had been the only to have not said anything during your presentation, too preoccupied with you once more.
“Adding in the possibility of him keeping them outside of the main town the victims have been found in was a smart move,” He quickly added, trying his best to comment on what he had paid attention to. His breath hitched when you turned to look at him. “Law enforcement might have missed that and can collaborate with police from the next town over. Good job.”
You smiled softly and nodded in appreciation, “Thank you.”
Fuck. How were you so nonchalant about this? Aaron’s mind wandered back to the probability of you getting back at him by going to Strauss about your rendezvous. It was only early morning Monday, the first day back in the office after said events, so it wasn’t a surprise he hadn’t heard anything from her. Yet.
He nodded back in response, though, casting his gaze downwards and collecting his things, “Great. I expect everyone’s reports to be on my desk by tonight, please.”
Everyone stood from their seats, shuffling out of the room with mumbled conversations. Aaron held back, taking his time in looking through his files and stacking them together while you did the same, leaving the two of you alone once everyone else had gone.
He wanted to say something, gather the courage to ask you something. Anything, just to make sure you were alright. If the two of you were still right, in spite of everything.
Only when you finished collecting things did he bring himself to open his mouth, a soft utterance of your name to get your attention.
You stopped in your tracks, a good couple feet away from him and the door. You stared at him, waiting for him to speak with a neutral expression on your face.
Not one of annoyance or irritation. Just expectant.
God, you really were driving him crazy.
You raised a brow when he didn’t say anything, “…Yes?”
He clears his throat again before asking, “Is everything okay?”
You blink and tilt your head, dumbfounded, “Why wouldn’t it be?”
Aaron grips at his files, guilt consuming him all over again. “With us,” he clarifies, swallowing harshly. “Is everything okay with us?”
You blink a couple more times, eyes wandering to the side as if you’re trying to catch onto what he’s implying.
It makes his heart churn.
“Oh.” You finally say, meeting his gaze. “Yes. We both agreed, no? To what you said.”
Aaron can’t decipher if the smile you give him is genuine or jeering, and he can’t tell if what you say last is clarifying as his answer or if it’s something underlyingly petty.
Either way it’s something. You’ve given him something and he’ll take it.
He nods finally, “Yes, we did.”
You shrug, smiling a bit wider this time, “All good then.”
He gives another curt nod, stepping to the side so you could exit the room. He moves to follow behind you, but he gets a whiff of your perfume as soon as you brush past him. The scent makes him halt and he has to hold onto one of the back posts of a chair to stabilize himself.
He takes a deep breath, inhaling the remnants that linger behind you for a moment.
He truly was going crazy.
The rest of the day goes by the same and hardly any work gets done on Aaron’s end. He’d scribble whatever he needed to write down or fill out then get distracted by the void of you.
It was getting impossible for him to keep working with the relentless problem that was his ongoing boner. He was tucked into his desk all the way yet it hurt whenever he leaned forward or backwards while moving around. Oftentimes he tried to give himself some sort of relief by running a hand over himself, but it didn’t help much, and the dirty thoughts about you certainly didn’t either.
The sounds that filled the room were lewd, your gags and moans from below mixed in with Aaron’s grunts and words of encouragement echoing off the hotel room’s walls. His large hand was entangled in your hair, pushing your head forward to take more of him, as if your jaw wasn’t aching enough already.
Though there wasn’t a way for him to tell, really. You gave no sign or indication that you wanted him to stop, your tongue swiping at the head of his cock each time he dipped your head even more. Saliva pooled from your tongue and leaked from your mouth, dripping into the carpeted floor and entailing a trail from your lips to your chin.
Aaron’s head was thrown back in utter pleasure and astonishment, bewildered that you’d ever be doing this to him. He didn’t want to finish before you, but it was taking everything him to not give in and fuck your face the way he truly desired.
He’d never received head this good, nor had he received it much recently. His legs were spread with you settled in between them contently. “That’s it sweetheart,” he mumbled, brushing fallen strands of hair out of your face lovingly. “Taking me so good, such a good girl.”
His praises only edged you on even further, bobbing your head up and down a couple more times before pulling off of him with a slick ‘pop!’ You rest your head on his thigh in an attempt to catch your breath, a shaky, stuttered sigh heaving from your chest as your hand comes up to continue the rest of your work.
Aaron has to run a hand over his face to try and keep his composure, his nails digging into the skin of his palm albeit their short length. He throws his head back against his chair, a grunt threatening to emit from his throat as he coercively runs his hand over his boner.
At least he wishes he can say it’s coercively, really it’s just a tainted image of you he’s embedded in his own dirty mind.
It doesn’t take long for Aaron to give in and reach inside his pants, sparing another careful glance to his now locked office door before springing his painfully hard cock free. A low, pleased grunt spills from his pursed lips as he wraps his hand around himself. He gives his length a good tug, bucking his hips up instantaneously, the same way he did when you first wrapped your mouth around him.
Still, as cautiously and quietly as possible, he begins to stroke at his length, a hand covering his mouth as he continues to dart his eyes from below himself to his door–as if anyone would walk in at any second and catch him jerking himself off in his own government-issued office.
He begins to imagine that his fist is you. That you’re sitting in the space between his legs with your hot mouth licking long stripes up his length and that your hand is toying with his balls the same way you did before. It only makes him pump at his fist even faster, the hand that was covering his mouth shooting down to the armrest of his chair, gripping at the cushioned leather as he began to reach his high.
“Fuck, Hotch, fuck!” Your whines are eccentric, head thrown back in pure ecstasy. Your legs wrap around Aaron’s waist, pulling him closer to you as he continues to thrust into your sopping pussy.
Aaron groans loudly, silently thanking that his and yours room was placed further down the hall from everyone else’s. His hands rest at the bottom of your thighs, his large hand gripping the flesh for support as he pounds into you relentlessly. Your pussy grips him like a vice and your nails dig into the skin of his biceps from where you hold him.
His sight is focused on you only, the way your tits bounce with each thrust and the way your mouth is curled into a wide ‘o’ from the pleasure you’re receiving.
“So good for me, baby,” he mumbles, hand coming down to grab at your breast, squeezing possessively before leaning down to crash his lips against yours hungrily.
You whine through the kiss, grabbing a fistful of his hair and tugging while your other hand scratches at his back. A string of saliva connects at your lips when he pulls away, his head dipping down to kiss and suck at your neck while he grabs your hips to better pistol himself inside you.
A moan echoes through the room again and straight to his ear, your back arching into his chest, “Feels so good, Aaron, so good!”
Aaron’s release sputters everywhere messily and he has to bite at his fist to stop himself from groaning loudly. His come spills onto parts of his leg, his desk, and even onto the floor. He leans back into his chair, trying to contain himself and his heaving chest.
He takes a look at the mess he created–the mess you unknowingly entailed from him. Like clockwork, the paranoia and guilt from doing this begins to seep in and he’s quick to snatch a handful of tissues from the box he kept on the corner of his desk to clean himself up. He tucks himself back into his pants then moves to clean at his desk and his floor.
Clearly, he hadn’t known what he was thinking. Not when it came to calling things off between the two of you before they even happened and certainly not now after he realized the spell he was currently in.
The last hour of the work day comes by agonizingly slowly. After his little session, Aaron finds it a little bit easier to get the rest of his work done (key word: a little bit). The rest of the members all begin to spill into his office to hand in their finished paperwork and files, all of them sparing him brief glances of curiosity and concern–the same way Garcia had done earlier–before bidding him goodnight and leaving.
The only one that hasn’t come to hand in anything was you. He knew you were still here, he could see you sitting at your desk from the view through his blinds, scribbling away casually like you had been doing so the whole day. After you had stalled to follow behind the rest of your co-workers, Aaron had gotten up from his desk and pretended to be walking around his office with a file in hand, lifting his head every few minutes to see if you were ever making your way towards him to turn in your work.
He wanted desperately to know what you were thinking. If you were secretly being tortured by the recollections of your hook-up, too, or if you truly didn’t care about him basically dumping you after having sex with you and telling you that it could never happen again due to your perspective titles.
With a defeated sigh, he closes the file he was still pretending to read. His eyes instinctively travel back to where your desk was at and his breath immediately catches in his throat when he sees that you aren’t there. He hears the sound of footsteps approaching closer and closer through the staircase that leads up to his office and you walk in soon after.
You freeze in the doorway when you see that he’s already staring at you. Your eyes flicker to a space behind him then back at him before you take a tentative step back and glance at the clock hung on the wall facing his desk, “Uh, is this a bad time?”
“No!” Aaron takes a step forward when you take another one back. He rubs at the back of his neck awkwardly, “No, no, it’s not. I didn’t know you were still here. Everyone else left almost half an hour ago.”
“Oh,” you glance back behind you to the rest of the bullpen before looking back at him. “I was just finishing up the reports you said you wanted done by the end of today.” You jut your chin toward the stack of files you were carrying in one arm.
“Right.” He clears his throat, motioning to the pile of files the rest of the team had stacked on his desk. “You can just leave them there.”
You nod, giving him a small smile.
He watches as you walk over to his desk, taking in your appearance while you double-check that everything was correct. He swallowed harshly, taking in the way your skirt hugged your lower figure perfectly the same way it did during the morning debriefing. Your hair flows ever so slightly and he takes in a good look at your side profile when you tuck a loose strand behind your ears while you continue to flip through the pages of your file.
You’re breathtakingly gorgeous and Aaron doesn’t know if what suddenly makes him start walking up behind you is from what he’s felt since sleeping with you or if it’s everything he’s felt since way before that.
You halt your movements when you feel his presence directly behind you, gasping when you turn and find how close he was standing.
“Hotch–” you gulp, heat blooming through your cheeks albeit feeling confused. “W-What are you doing?”
Aaron takes in your tone and he can tell that you’re not asking in a disgusted, annoyed way, more so in a flustered way. He lifts a hand to brush the hair that frames your face past your face but doesn’t actually move to do it, keeping it there to see if you push him away. But you don’t. So he brushes it away.
“I can’t get you out of my head.” He mumbles, eyes boring into the side of your face as you stare up at him as best as you can from your practically rigid figure.
You scoff, a sound filled with so much humor yet so little at the same time, “You were the one that said this couldn’t happen again.” You twist your head, trying to turn your body around more with the way he had you pressed against the front of his desk.
“That was a mistake,” he whispers. He dips his head so that his mouth is by your ear, watching you shiver from the proximity.
“A mistake?” You repeat, brows raised. You lull your head to the side but you don’t know if you do it to get away from him or to grant him access to your neck.
Aaron takes it as the latter and hovers his lips over your skin, the same spot where he had left splotches of pink and purple last time.
“Yes,” he confirms, “a mistake.”
You want to ask why he said it then, want to press him for answers but you can’t when his hot breath sends shivers down your spine and arms. Your legs go weak when he brings a hand around you to wrap at your middle, big hand splayed across your stomach to pull you in even closer, if possible.
“H-Hotch,” you clear your throat. “We can’t. You said so yourself.” You roll your shoulders back in a weak effort to push him away, but all he does is hold you tighter.
“I was wrong,” he mutters, pressing a feather-light kiss to the very side of your neck. He takes a deep breath, inhaling the aroma of your perfume again and letting out a pleased hum from the back of his throat. “I was so wrong.”
You gasp when he flings an arm out in front of you, proceeding to knock over the multiple things from his desk. Files, pens, and other trinkets fly off the hard wood and land on the floor with a loud crash. Aaron spins you around before you can process the whole mess, turning you around so that you were facing him.
“Aaron-!” Your mind is a whirlwind as he grabs at your hips and easily sets you down on the edge of the desk. His lips crash onto yours messily and you hum, satisfied.
The kiss quickly becomes sloppy and hungry, muffled whines as you two practically devour one another. Your hands wrap around his neck while his own roam your body, curious hands searching for the zipper of your dress and bunching up the fabric in the process. You mewl when he finally finds it and slowly tugs it down. You break apart from the kiss in order to help him, scrambling from side to side so that it comes off from under you.
Aaron lets out a groan at the sight of you as he tosses the dress to the side. You’re wearing a matching set: a lacy white bra that cups your breasts gorgeously and a lacy white thong paired with it. It takes everything in him to not come undone right then and there.
Holding your gaze, Aaron sinks to his knees, shrugging off his suit jacket as he kneels before you.
“Aaron…”
He immediately shushes you, discarding the jacket somewhere next to your dress on his office floor. “Spread your legs for me, sweetheart.”
Instead of obeying, you knock your knees together bashfully, the fat of your thighs pressing against each other.
Aaron’s eyes darken at your shy defiance. “I said spread your legs.” His hands come out to grab behind your knees and you gasp again when he spreads them apart forcefully, large hands holding them in place.
“Oh, sweet girl,” he utters, gaze locked on your soaked panties. His palms slide down your legs, eyes flickering back up at you as he begins to kiss at your calves. Each peck to your skin leaves a wet trail from your earlier kiss and you whine in anticipation as he makes his way up before coming face to face with your pussy. His fingers hook themselves inside the thin fabric and you immediately get the message, lifting your hips once more so he could slide them down your legs
Aaron swiftly shoves the wet material into his pockets, wasting no time before diving straight in and burying his head in between your thighs.
His tongue swiping at your folds elicits a loud moan from you, your hands shooting out to grab at his head, “Aaron!” You yell out, fingers tangling in his hair to stabilize yourself from the suddenness.
Aaron grunts from below you, the sound sending vibrations up your body and causing you to arch into his touch. He didn’t know how he hadn’t thought of tasting you that night in the hotel room, too preoccupied with the pleasure he had received from you. But–dare he say–this was better than head, better than anything else he had ever gotten, tasted or even done. He wasn’t even a minute into devouring you and he had already decided that this was the best pussy he had ever had in his whole life.
“Fuck, sweetheart. You don’t know how many times I’ve thought about this pussy.” He lapped at your juices, mouth hot on your dripping cunt. His hands continued to grip at your thighs, large palms still keeping you in place from where you were writhing in pleasure.
“A-Aaron,” you whimper, grinding your hips against his face. “Please, I need you. Need you so bad.”
Your head was thrown back in utter bliss, hips stuttering with each nibble at your clit. Your fingers tugged his face closer despite the longing you had to feel him inside you, caging his head to keep him there.
Aaron couldn’t help but bask in the sounds he was pulling from you. It was as if his mouth had a mind of his own and all it could focus on was licking up every single one of your juices, the taste nearly intoxicating. He flickered his eyes up to you, taking in the way your chest heaved and your breasts pushed against the cups of your bra, practically spilling out.
Without removing his tongue from your pussy, he reaches behind you and easily undoes the hooks.
You let the straps fall from your shoulders and aid him in tossing it somewhere in the room along with your dress. Desperately, you reach for Aaron’s hands and place them on your breasts, groaning when he rolls each already hard and sensitive nipple in between your fingers.
Your legs begin to shake and you’re quick to wrap them around Aaron’s head, the heels of your feet digging into his muscular back. “Mm, fuck, ‘m gonna cum,” you toss your head back as the coil in your belly threatens to snap.
“Yeah?” He teases, angling his head so that he could spit onto your cunt, all before diving right back in and swirling it together with your arousal. “You gonna cum on my mouth, honey?”
You nod, feverishly, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you feel your orgasm getting closer and closer.
“Go ahead, pretty,” Aaron ushers, voice deep and rough from his non stop nibbling and sucking. “Come on my mouth, sweetheart.”
A certain bite on your clit immediately has you seeing stars and the office is soon filled with your cries of ecstasy as your orgasm washes over you violently. Your body shakes and stutters as you ride out the high on his face, leaning backwards until your back was resting against his desk.
Aaron doesn’t relent even as you begin to come down from your high, enhancing the way your legs shook from where they were wrapped around him.
“No, n-no more, Aaron, p-please,” you begged, keeping your back on the desk while weakly attempting to push him away.
“Just one more, honey. You can give me one more, can’t you?”
You don’t get the chance to answer, back arching off the desk as his fingers prodded at your entrance briefly before he shoved two inside. A high-pitched moan emitted from your swollen lips and your hips rutted against his face once more as he scissored the thick digits inside your gummy walls.
“That’s it, pretty girl, that’s it,” Aaron’s sultry words only encouraged you further, his face wet with your arousal and the release of your first orgasm. “I’m gonna make it up to you, sweetheart. But first you gotta give me another one.”
His thumb came up alongside his mouth to rub rough circles on your already sensitive, swollen clit and you immediately felt that coil snap once more, mixing in with the first orgasm you hadn’t even properly come down from.
“Aaron, Aaron, Aaron!” You mumbled dumbly, mouth agape and head hanging back from the desk as you rode out your second high on his face, the heavy wood shaking with every motion.
Aaron’s head was buried even further in between your legs, lips trying to catch every single drop that leaked from your hole, pulling out your fingers and cleaning them with a swirl from his tongue. He delivered a sweet kiss to your folds before standing, his knees cracking in response to being kneeled on the ground for so long.
He leans over, bringing a guiding hand to the back of your neck to get you to sit up, “You good, honey?” Aaron asks, brushing away the stray hands of hair that had stuck to your face. “Still with me?”
You hum, nodding weakly, “Need you, Aaron.”
Aaron chuckles at your fucked-out form, pressing a gentle kiss to the side of your head, “I got you, sweetheart. Bend over the desk for me.”
You stand on wobbly legs and do as he says blindly, the need to have him inside you outshining your nearing overstimulation. You feel yourself salivate as the sound of him undoing his belt is heard from behind you and you look back to watch him pull himself out from his boxers.
He hears you gasp when his cock springs out and hits against his stomach, tip an angry red and leaking with precome. He wraps a hand around himself and groans at how painfully hard he was. He quickly lines himself up with your entrance, slapping his length against your dripping folds before easing himself inside little by little.
You whine from in front of him when he bottoms out, the tip of his dick easily hitting your sweet spot the same way it did before in the hotel. This time, though, it feels even better with how wet you already were, his cock glistening when he pulls out before shoving himself back in roughly.
It doesn’t take long for Aaron to set a brutal pace, hands on your hips as he begins to pound into you from behind ruthlessly, a stark contrast from the way he had asked you if you were okay.
“Fuck, sweetheart. You have no idea how crazy you’ve driven me since I first fucked this pretty pussy,” Aaron grunted form behind, fingers digging so hard into your hips he was sure there would be an imprint there. “Had to get myself off in my own office, that’s how crazy you had me going.”
You don’t answer. You can’t answer. Your mouth is wide open, small huffs the only noise you can make while a line of saliva drools from your tongue. It’s only when you feel him wrap your hair in his hand and pull your back flush against his chest that you squeal, the angle pushing his cock further inside you.
“You like that, pretty?” He asks deeply, voice hoarse and gravely as he continues to pound into your pussy, the squelching that comes from beneath scandalous. “Like getting this pussy fucked by me, huh?”
You nod dumbly, too fucked out to properly answer him. A harsh slap against your ass makes you cry out, the sting somewhat snapping you back to reality.
“Answer me,” Aaron commands, tugging at your hair and making your back arch even further against him. “Did I fuck you dumb like last time?”
“Yes, yes, yes,” you babble, legs shaking even in your standing position. “I l-love it, Aaron. Feels so g-good.”
He chuckles against your ear, the way you could barely register his questions only making him quicken his pace, “You gonna come on my cock, sweetheart? Gonna give me one more wrapped around me?”
You nod with as much fervor as possible, “Yes, y-yes, can I, Aaron? Want you to c-cum inside me, please.”
“Yeah? Want me to stuff you full of my cum?” He asks. He doesn’t bother to correct you when you don’t answer, instead snaking his hand to your front and down to your pussy.
The feel of him rubbing circles on your clit is the final push you need before you’re clenching around him, body trembling against him as he continues his assault on your swollen bud.
It doesn’t take long for Aaron to spill his own release inside you, giving you a couple more shallow thrusts as he comes down from his own high.
You whine when you feel him pull out, a string of your mixed releases following suit on the tip of his cock.
“So good, baby,” he praises, wrapping a hand around your neck gently and pressing soothing kisses on your cheek. “Did so good for me.”
You lean your head against his shoulder as he reaches for some tissues to clean you up, “So I guess we’re definitely doing this again?”
Aaron laughs, a pink adorning his cheeks, “Yes. Yes, we are. In fact, I’m telling everyone to work from home tomorrow so I can take you on a proper date. I’m not risking going crazy again.”
You suppress a giggle, “You went crazy? Over my pussy?”
I’ve always wanted to make a fan book for Susie for her birthday, but never had the time to do so previously. I’ve seen a growing number of blogs posting about Susie over the years so thought it would be nice to do it now and have everyone participate.
Susie’s birthday is the 6th December, so to allow time for messages and making, I’d be grateful if you could submit messages using the link below by Saturday 12th October 2024.
Submit Messages Here:
To help Susie celebrate her birthday, please contribute a message below!
If you have any photos you want included just let me know.
Any questions just ask! :)
Many thanks for participating and please share so we reach as many people as possible!
3 professors forced to share a hotel room during a travel to a wizard expo ... due to budget cut because Hogwarts have sustained yet another annual Voldemort-related disaster( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
summary- down on your luck after a huge betrayal, you return to live at your father's house with your tail between your legs. you're humiliated, thoroughly convinced nothing good could come from returning home. then you meet aaron hotchner.
warnings- heavy making out, grinding, groping, no fr fr smut but they get real saucy, reader and Aaron being sneaky, me finally trying out proper capitalization (let me know if there’s any I missed!)
A/N- AHHHH ITS HERE YALL!!! Thanks for your patience and kind words!!! Hope you enjoy!!! Dividers from @saradika-graphics and @reveriesources !!! And as always thank you to my love @basketonthedoorstepofthefbi for helping me through all of this!!
Six sharp dings ring through the elevator as it ascends to the Behavioral Analysis Unit. The doors part, and you’re met with a bustling office that could be straight out of a 2000s romcom. You balance a tray of two coffees and adjust the strap of your purse, daring to enter. You have no idea where to even begin to find your father, but the sight of a tall, lanky Spencer Reid seems promising, so you make a beeline for the bullpen.
“Hiiii!!” squeaks a high pitched voice to your left, and you turn to find Penelope.
“Hi, Penelope!” you squeal in return, running to give her a hug. Your giggly greeting grabs the attention of other team members, and Penelope insists on taking the coffee tray from you as she leads you to them. You grin as you approach your father’s coworkers, eager to see you once more since the party.
You scan the group, heart sinking just slightly when you realize a certain 6’2 Unit Chief is not amongst them. You exchange pleasantries anyway, just as excited to see the rest, too.
“Where’s my papà?” you question, taking the tray back from Penelope.
“Probably somewhere with Hotch,” Spencer nods absentmindedly, unaware of the fire sparkling in the pit of your stomach at the mention of the man you kissed two weeks ago.
You and Penelope discreetly squeeze each other’s hands in a ‘we’ll talk later’ fashion, and you set off to find your father. Just your father.
Your heart beats a mile a minute as you start for your dad’s office, climbing the short stairway to get there. The door of the office before his swings open, stopping you dead in your tracks. Your father exits the doorway first, followed by Aaron. You freeze wide eyed, any last effort to remain casual vanishing from your body the second you lay eyes on him.
He’s even more beautiful after not seeing him for fourteen days- you’ve been counting- if that’s even possible. There’s a small glint in his eye, lips in the slightest uptick that you want to lean over and kiss off. You sigh, regaining a semblance of normalcy, enough to turn your attention to your father.
“Hello Papà!” you exhale shakily, and you silently chastise yourself. You really should be better at this, sneaking around with a guy in front of your dad, you did live with him in high school after all.
This feels different, though, and not just because it’s been nearly a decade since then. Aaron’s different. He’s debonair, so suave that it’s disarming, breathtaking- but somehow, he manages to be gentle and kind all the same. Your conversation in the kitchen that night plays on a constant loop in your mind- how he made you laugh, how comfortable you felt being yourself, how he’s the first person to loosen you up like that in years.
“Hello my principessa!” he croons, as if he really doesn’t notice. You give up on trying to profile your father, a habit you should have shaken long ago.
You lean into his hug, turning your head the opposite direction of Aaron. You pray he doesn’t feel your heart about to beat out of your chest, and if he does, he doesn’t say anything. You breathe a sigh of relief as you pull away, leaning up to exchange a kiss on each cheek.
“To what do i owe the surprise, sweetheart?” he beams, and your heart warms. Getting to know your father as an adult the past few weeks has eased a little bit of the blow of returning back home. He’s fun, actually, when you can drink wine together and fully care for yourself when he leaves for work. It’s not perfect, but it’s better, and you see that in his gleaming eyes today.
“Just wanted to say hi!” you smile, liar, “I brought you a coffee! Thought you might need it.”
He gives you another hug, pressing a kiss to your temple as he takes the plastic resin cup from your hands, “wow, lucky me! thank you, principessa,” he mutters, and you give him a firm squeeze around his middle before letting go once more.
“You remember Aaron?” he nods to his left nonchalantly, thankfully focused greatly on his cinnamon dolce latte, from his favorite italian cafe in dc- you’re really trying to distract him. Your dad gets a phone call soon after, abandoning you with the only man in the room you cannot be trusted alone with.
“Uh-yes,” your brain takes a second to process his first name, the mere mention of it rendering you nearly speechless. You find your footing, though, an exhale escaping your lips as you turn to face him, “hi, Aaron.”
It nearly comes out a whisper, and his brow raises just slightly, “hello, it’s good to see you again,” there’s a glint in his eye as he extends his hand for you to shake. What seems like a normal conversation externally- even a room full of profilers- twists you up internally.
The warmth of his large hand covering yours sends a jolt of electricity through your veins, reducing your heart to ashes. The shock of the contact, as little as it is, erupts a swarm of butterflies through your stomach. They flutter up to your chest, pattering at your charred heart. Your breath hitches, your jaw falling open just slightly. He catches it, though. Of course he does. There’s a slight uptick in the corner of his mouth, his eyes shining with amusement.
“About the other-” Aaron starts, and your heart races. It falls into your stomach when he’s cut off by your dad, an impending case requiring his attention. He turns and nods to your father, shooting you an apologetic look before making his way into the conference room.
You’re frozen as you watch him move, feet planted into the floor like a statue. Your gaze follows him as he glides so effortlessly into the conference room. The door shuts, and you feel like it’s been slammed in your face, regardless of the fact that you’re all the way across the room. You’re afforded the slightest glimpse of him through the conference room window, he’s already looking at you when you catch his gaze, and your stomach somersaults.
His brown eyes flitting towards yours solidifies your decision, bucking yourself up to accomplish what you truly came here for. Your fingers press into the pocket of your jeans, a small slip of paper with your number on it crinkling against the denim. You pluck it out between your thumb and forefinger, and make a show of dropping your keys right in front of the closed door of Aaron’s office.
In your haste to pick up your belongings, you slip the sheet of paper under the tiny crack between the door and the floor. You pop up facing the conference room, his gaze still nearly burning a hole through the glass window. The reality of your actions sink in, like a rock plummeting to the bottom of your stomach. You stare back for a brief, fleeting moment, before fleeing.
You pace anxiously back and forth in the kitchen, anticipating a call. the call. Your father had texted that they’d landed safely almost an hour ago. you’re certain they’re incredibly busy, which means that- if he even wants to talk to you at all- he’ll only be able to call in one of those brief pockets of free time a bau case allows. Which could be literally whenever.
You sigh, resting your elbows on the far end of your kitchen island. Your cheeks heat up at the memory of the last time you were sat here- who you were with, the conversations you had, how the night ended. The irony of this being your resting spot is not lost on you.
Every night since then, you’d tossed and turned in your bed, replaying the scene over and over, wondering if he was doing the same. Your impending feelings for your father’s coworker have been tearing open your chest lately, chewing on your remains until you had no choice. You had to see him. You had to at least talk to him. It’s not everyday you’re kissed by a modern Adonis and are expected to just move on.
There truly was no underlying motive for your actions earlier, you came back home to find yourself. The last thing you need is to get entangled with your father’s good friend and colleague. You left New York to escape drama, not cause it, but that kiss, oh that kiss. You felt like you were a starlet in an old Hollywood film, swept off her feet by a gentleman who kisses like his life depended on it.
You remember the softness of his lips, the sting of whiskey coating his tongue. You can still feel his large hands cupped around your jaw, the warmth from them radiating straight to your heart. You recall the sturdiness of his middle as your hands explored up and down his broad back, his spine shivering under your touch. You’re warm and fuzzy at the memory, and decide you can’t take it any longer. you march out of the kitchen, leaving your phone on the island.
You freeze at the bottom of the steps the second it rattles against the marble, obnoxious and grating. Your head whips to the tabletop, where your vibrating phone dances against it. You swear you could have beat Usain Bolt with the speed in which you traveled from the front hall steps back into the kitchen. An unknown number lights up your screen, acid pooling in your stomach at the sight.
Your hands shakily grab the device, nearly sending him to voicemail before you bite the bullet and lift your phone to your ear, “hello?” you inquire, you still don’t really know who’s number it is, after all.
“Hi,” a deep voice breathes over the line, and you know it’s him.
“Aaron-”
“Do you want to get dinner with me when we get back from this case?” he cuts you off, and you’re honestly thankful. You had no idea what you were going to say.
You’re silent for a moment, your ears fuzzy and stomach burning white hot, “yes,” you exhale, and you can hear him sigh over the line.
“Good. We’ll be on our way back sunday, I’ll call you then,” you can’t get a word in edgewise before he hangs up, abandoning you in complete and utter disbelief.
Your phone falls from your ear and you scramble shakily to find Penelope’s contact. You press call in record speed, hitting the speaker icon so you can set your phone down and continue pacing.
“Hi pretty girl!” she chirps over the line, “is everything alright?”
“Hi Penelope, i’m so sorry, i know you’re working…” you fiddle with your hands as the regret of calling her, of bothering her, really sinks in.
“No, no! I have a few minutes to chat, what’s up? you sound worried!” you can hear concern in your voice, and you’re so thankful you’ve found a friend in her. She’s made your transition home so much easier, just by being there.
“Aaron asked me to get dinner?” you pose as a question, even though there’s nothing to be curious about.
“what?” Penelope inquires over the line, and you wish you had a better answer, “have you spoken since the kiss?” the last two words are hissed out, and you can practically hear her head whipping around in search of your father.
“Barely!” you groan, resting your elbows on the kitchen island, head in your palms, “When I was there to bring my dad coffee earlier today, we said hello and shook hands. I slipped my number under his door before I left,” you confess breathily, and she gasps over the line.
“You dirty dog!” she chastises, and your cheeks heat up.
“No!” you defend.
“Yes!” she responds, accusatory, “wait, so then why do you sound so nervous? Is this not a good thing?”
“No-it’s-ugh!” you massage your temples as you try and justify your dissonance, “I just want to talk. I’m afraid this dinner will end up being a bit more than talking.”
There’s silence over the line for a moment, before Penelope speaks up, “you just want to…talk? just talk? with the man who kissed you like you were the last woman on earth?” she pulls that last quote from a conversation a few weeks ago in which you confided in her about said kiss, “your words, not mine!” she defends when she hears you scoff.
“Yes! i just want to talk,” you breathe, thanking your lucky stars you have someone to talk this through with, “I came back home to find myself, to escape the messiness of my life in New York. Going forward with him in any way will completely undo all of that.”
She sighs over the line, and you want to resent the pity in it, “I get that, it’s very understandable. Men are so messy,” she jokes, and you can hear the scrunch in her nose, “It’s important to take care of yourself, and I’m happy you see that,” you smile, but what she says next makes it fall, “but what I will say is that sparks were most definitely flying between you two, so if you’re really trying to anti-seduce him or whatever, try to go somewhere casual, nothing too fancy.”
You groan, rubbing your eyes with your fingertips, “good idea, Pen. Thank you, I really appreciate you talking this out with me,” you smile.
“Of course, my love! anytime! I support you in whatever decision you make, just so you know. I’m always supportive of finding yourself, but I’m also supportive of making out with a hot guy. Let me know which one occurs on Sunday night,” she chirps, and you sign off.
You smooth your hands down the denim mini skirt hugging your thighs, a red top clinging to your middle. You’d been taken on dates before by some of the richest, most powerful men in New York, men who’d convinced you they’d make your writing dreams come true. Yet, none of them had you as nervous as you are now, waiting for Aaron Hotchner to come pick you up.
Butterflies swarm through your stomach, nearly making you nauseous as you paced by the front door. Your father thankfully headed straight to bed after getting home from the case, so you don’t have to worry about that tonight. That’s a future you problem, you’ve decided. You freeze when there’s a knock at the door, hands fumbling for your purse before shakily turning the knob.
All the breath is stolen from your lungs at the sight of him. He’s tired, you can tell from the soft droop in his eyelids, the gentle muss of his hair, like he’s been running his fingers through it. Your heart drops to your stomach as you take him in, he looks so damn good. A dark polo adorns his broad shoulders, paired with jeans and white sneakers. The denim hugs his tree trunk thighs in a way that makes you dizzy, nothing could have prepared you for seeing him in those jeans.
Your eyes snap back up to his, and they’re a bit more amused now, and reading you like a book. Your cheeks heat up as you step onto the front porch, “hi…” you trail off gently, shutting the door as locking it behind you. Neither of you move for a moment, standing face to face mere inches from each other. Both your hands hold your bag in front of your body, as if you were trying to protect yourself from him.
He reads your body language, which you know is incredibly instinctual for profilers, and steps away before leading you off the porch. He offers a gentle hand as you descend the steps, your black kitten heels pattering against the concrete. It’s not romantic, strictly cordial, but the mere touch of your fingertips against his shoots lightning through your veins all the way to the pit boiling in your stomach.
“Hi,” he replies softly as you hop off the final step onto the concrete.
You see the way he scans your body, taking in the low neckline of your top, the short length of the skirt. You insecurely pull at the hem of it, and he snaps his gaze to the concrete below him. He opens his car door for you before jogging over to his side. Once he’s in, an uneasy tension fills the car like a thick fog. The mutual attraction fizzles and pops in the air like a sparkler on the Fourth of July.
It’s silent as his hand drops to the gear shift, a large hand wrapping around the handle, putting it in reverse. His hand comes up to the back of the passenger’s seat, looking over his shoulder as he pulls out of the driveway. You can’t help but glance at his neck, the way it twists, the vein running up along the side. You gulp, looking forward once more, palms laid flat on your thighs.
You drive in silence for a few minutes before a bright white and red sign reading ‘24H DINER’ shines in your eyes. You glance at him with your brow raised, and in the glow of the neon sign you can see the peaks of his cheeks turn pink. He shrugs one shoulder slightly, “it’s been a long day. I need a burger. After you, sweetheart,” the pet name rolls off his tongue so smoothly that you barely register it as you step out of the car.
Once you do, you press a hand to your stomach in a weak attempt to quell the butterflies that have once again unleashed within you. He opens the door for you and you all but swoon, thanking him in a small, sweet voice as you step in the diner. The old jukebox in the corner and rotary dial hanging on the wall date the charming place, fluorescent lights beaming down on you from above.
He leads you to a booth in the far right corner, thankfully speaking first, “thank you for agreeing to meet with me, I just-” he shakes his head, nearly in disbelief, before he goes on, “I want to say I’m sorry, if I put you in an uncomfortable situation by kissing you. That wasn’t my intention, and I want to give you the opportunity to say no, if that’s what you want.”
He crosses his hands on the table and you nearly groan at his consideration, “that’s very kind of you,” you begin, inhaling a shaky breath.
“It didn’t make me uncomfortable, in fact, I was almost too comfortable,” you smile shyly at this, as does he, and you feel like you’re in the movie Grease, sitting with Danny Zuko at The Frosty Palace.
“I just…I came home to find myself. I’m just not sure if seeing my father’s coworker falls into that category,” you put gently.
His smile falls only slightly, “I completely understand that, you deserve to take this time for yourself.”
He’s so sweet, you’re nearly resentful, “thank you for understanding,” you smile, and thankfully you’re interrupted by a waitress with a notepad.
Aaron orders a burger with fries and a chocolate milkshake. You ponder the menu briefly before deciding to trust him, and order the same thing. You’re glad you did once the food arrives, happily munching on crisp fries and a juicy burger, washing it down with the most delicious chocolate milkshake you've ever tried in your life.
“So, why did you choose to take me here?” you ask around a big bite of burger.
He shrugs, “I like to come here after tough cases, my dad used to take me and my brother here when we were little. I don’t have a lot of positive memories with the man, but this place is one of them,” his gaze finally lifts from the table up to you. The softness in his gaze hardens over, his walls building back up after sharing too much. 
“That’s really sweet,” you attempt to ease his vulnerability, “to be fair, I don’t really have many childhood memories with my dad at all. He wasn’t really present in my life until high school.”
He quirks his brow inquisitively, and you take that as a sign to continue, “he and my mom divorced when I was in middle school, too many late nights on the job got to be too much for her,” you pause momentarily, afraid you’ve gone too far.
you don’t know much about the people your dad works with, but you know enough about how divorce tears through that unit, like a tornado, Penelope once said.
“Yeah?” he asks, his soft tone allows you to feel comfortable continuing.
“Yeah, everything up until their divorce is marked by the fancy parties they dragged me to. Book releases, FBI galas, you name it, I was there in a ruffly dress, most likely throwing a tantrum,” you smile gently, and he returns it. It’s so soft, so sweet, that you have no idea how you’re going to last the rest of this meal without feeling those lips on yours again.
“He’s shown us a lot of pictures of you, y’know,” Aaron murmurs across the table, a smug smirk pulling at his lips, “he loves you a lot. He’s really happy you’re reconnecting.”
“I am too,” you smile back, but the mere mention of your father hangs heavy between you two, a glaring reminder of why you can’t fall prey to that smile. that beautiful smile.
You straighten your back against the booth, creating as much space as possible between you two. His smile drops, and your heart twists with regret. You wish so desperately that things could be different with the man sitting across from you, that you met in another life. All the forces in this life seem to be keeping you two apart, you can’t help but hope that’s for the best, even when you want to lean over the table and kiss him with everything in you.
Once you’re finished eating, he pays for both of you- another reason to curse your circumstances- and you head out to his car. He opens the car door for you once more, and you can’t help the way your heart rate kicks up, your stomach twirling with girlish glee. You place your hands flat on your thighs once more, like it’d help you control the fire burning white hot in your stomach, spreading lower and lower with each second.
He gets in the driver’s side, but doesn’t move. You turn inquisitively, “Aaron, are you okay?”
He doesn’t respond, he just leans over the center console, grabs your face in his hands, and kisses you. His lips against yours is like a drug, one you’ve withdrawn from for far too long. You freeze for a moment, and he pulls away. The loss of his warmth feels like you’ve dropped on a rollercoaster, your stomach plummeting to the deepest part of you. You stare at each other in a loaded silence, your breathing hot and heavy.
He goes to speak, but before he can get any words out, you’re climbing over the console to straddle him. You plant your lips firmly on his, and he sighs against your lips as you settle your weight fully onto him. He grips your cheeks once more, deepening the kiss. His right hand travels down your neck, grazing your collarbones, over your back, and all the way down to grab a handful of your ass, pulling you even closer into him.
He groans as you drag over him, a sound you wish you could bottle up and open whenever you want. You two are sloppy, desperate as your lips smack against each other, tongues grazing ever so slightly.
“I thought…you wanted to…focus on yourself,” he breathes between kisses, and you pinch his side. He grips your ass firmer in response, his left hand cradling the back of your neck.
“Sometimes focusing on myself means making out with a hot guy,” you use Penelope’s logic from earlier, unbeknownst to him, of course.
He pulls back at that, a bashful smile spreading across his lips, his cheeks tinted pink in the light of that same red and white ‘24H DINER’ sign.
“I honestly can’t remember the last time I’ve been called that,” he breathes, and your heart melts. You can’t help but lean down and kiss him again, bouncing just gently on him, as a treat. It earns you another small moan, and your eyes nearly roll in the back of your head.
Your fingertips travel from his shoulders, down to his torso as his kisses spread from your lips to your chin to your neck.
“You’re beautiful, Aaron,” you whisper, hands gripping his big, broad shoulders once more. He pauses at this, just for a moment, before both of his hands knead your ass as he continues his assault on your neck.
“I mean it,” you continue, fingers scraping the nape of his neck, you play with the hair there and he shivers. “You feel so good, your lips, your hands, God,” you groan breathily as he begins to drag you back and forth along his lap.
“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs into your shoulder, no doubt taking a peek of your panties that your now-ridden-up skirt has exposed. “You really thought you could wear a top like this…” his lips travel from your shoulder to your chest, mouthing at the skin there. “A skirt like this…and this wouldn’t happen?” He looks up at you with a bewildered smile on his face, and you can feel the length of him hard beneath you as you rock back and forth.
“I did just want to talk, but I still had to look hot,” you smirk as you explain, still rocking back and forth against him. He leans back in his seat as you move, mesmerized by the sight in front of him. His hands travel up your body, wrapping around your waist and helping you move against him. They eventually grip your waist, stopping you in your tracks.
You whine petulantly, furrowing your brows and pouting slightly. He rises up to kiss it off, sitting back again while his hands travel to your thighs, rubbing there gently.
“We need to stop,” he rasps, “I won’t be able to control myself if we continue. I’m not doing this with you for the first time in a car.”
Your heart melts at his statement, lowering yourself to give him one last kiss. You finagle your way back over the console, and his hand gives your butt a little tap as you lean. You squeal, situating yourself back in the passengers seat, fixing your skirt and raking your fingers through your hair. Two goofy smiles bloom on your faces the entire drive home.
Two weeks after that night at the diner, you and Aaron have become intertwined in an illicit affair of sorts. Your father has been traveling outside of work more than usual, having taken off some time for an upcoming book tour. Where he found the time to write another book in the middle of all his profiling, you have no idea.
What you do know is that it’s allowed you and Aaron a lot of private time, trapped in a bubble where the questionable ethics of sleeping with your father’s coworker don’t exist.
The sun trickles through the window, casting your bed in a soft golden glow. Aaron stirs next to you, his broad, muscly back facing you. You lean forward, pressing kisses all over his skin, your lips finding every possible inch.
“Good morning,” he chuckles, and you rest your cheek against his warm back.
“Good morning, my angel,” you murmur back.
“Want some coffee?” He stretches, reaching for a clean pair of boxers to slip on. You shamelessly ogle his bare butt, lightly tapping it and making him scoff.
“Coffee sounds great, hot stuff,” you wink and he rolls his eyes, pulling a white t-shirt over his head.
His eyes trail over your bare frame, a light sheet draped over half of you, clinging to you like a Greek goddess. He bites his lip and you grow shy under his gaze. He leans down to kiss you before heading downstairs to make the coffee. You’ll join him in a minute, you suppose, meandering about your bathroom as you complete your morning routine.
You slip on one of Aaron’s shirts, a faded navy GWU t-shirt falling over your frame. You patter down the steps as you hear the door creaking open and closed. You pause, your stomach dropping at the thought of your dad coming home from his tour early. You choose the benefit of the doubt, thinking maybe Aaron saw a package or something.
When you walk into the kitchen, your fears have come true. There’s your father, staring down Aaron in complete silence. You feel like you’re Alice, falling down the rabbit hole. This can’t be happening.
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