dbf!hotch taking his stress out on the reader after a rough case
Stress Relief
Warnings: Smut, pwp, unprotected p in v sex, brief vaginal fingering, brief oral (fem receiving), basically just a quickie with Aaron, age gap (both adults), dbf!hotch, roughish sex, pet names (princess, sweet girl, sweetheart), I think that's it but let me know if I missed anything!
Word count: 1k
Pairing: dbf!hotch x fem!reader
A/n: YESssssss!!!!! Rough case results in rougher sex ;) I don't make the rules 🤷.
Aaron called you as soon as he was home from his most recent case. This had become a normal occurrence and you'd come to long for the moment his call would come through. He would often let you massage his neck, shoulders, and back after he would bathe. He would share sweet soft kisses with you and probably get around to taking you at some point, but it wasn't always the first thing he would do.
This time though, he had phoned you and as soon as you walked through the door, he was pinning you up against it and nibbling at your neck and earlobe. Now he is grinding his hips into yours and he's grunting and groaning into your ear.
"Fuck, I missed you, sweet girl. Missed you so much." Aaron mumbles against your neck and you can't help but arch into him. He slips his arms around you. "Mm...Missed you too, Aaron." You whisper in a breathy voice. You're both panting and needy and he can't take it any longer. He strips you down to nothing and he keeps his hold on your hips as he kneels down between your thighs.
He does it just to get a quick taste and to help in prepping you to take him. He easily slides two fingers into your leaking cunt and his tongue circles your clit as his right hand helps to steady you. It doesn't take much to get you ready for him, it's been so long and you've missed him so much. You've needed him and your body is showing it.
Aaron pulls away from your core and he stands again, removing his belt and pulling his slacks and underwear down just enough to get his length out. He strokes himself a few times and presses his body up against yours, pinning you to the door once again in the process.
He presses his tip to your entrance and pushes into you completely in one swift motion. You gasp and arch into him again at the sudden, but welcome intrusion. He groans and starts moving almost immediately. His thrusts are fast and hard from the very beginning. Aaron moves one hand behind your thigh and lifts it up for you to wrap it around him. It gives him more access and allows him to go even deeper inside of you.
All he can hear are your loud moans in his ear as he helps you stay upright and it's like music to his ears after a week without you in the same way that his sounds are to you. You told him in the beginning of this relationship that you wanted him to make noise, you wanted him to let out his sounds instead of keeping them in. You made Aaron feel like he could really let go and have fun during sex. He felt like he could finally be himself and explore things he couldn't before.
He can feel how hard it is for you to stay up as you lean into him. You're thankful for the support of him and the door behind you. "Come on, princess. Cum for me." He all but growls into your ear and you shiver. He makes his thrusts even harder and deeper now, making you moan and you nearly throw your head back into the door, but you refrain so you don't get a headache later.
You reach down and rub your clit yourself because Aaron's hands are a little preoccupied with keeping you steady. It doesn't take much, a few flicks of your finger and Aaron whispering the dirty things he is planning on doing to you later, and you're clenching and fluttering around his cock as he fucks you through your high. Your other hand claws at his suit and eventually grips it as you ground yourself after your orgasm subsides.
Aaron never lets up on his pace and force. You tangle one hand in his hair and your other arm moves to wrap around the back of his neck. You bury your face in his neck and let out some of the loudest moans you think you ever have. They sound almost pornographic and Aaron feels a sense of pride in being the reason for it.
Your wet heat continues to envelope his cock and you know you'll be sore in the days to come, but you would gladly feel that discomfort when you're feeling so good now and you know he will take care of you after he gets the release he has been craving for what feels like far too long. He pounds into you over and over, thinking about how he'll take you later in his bed, how he'll taste your arousal and his release as he eats you out until he's satisfied you both. It's that thought of how he'll get to taste the two of you mixed together later that sends him over the edge now and he fills you up, his hips stuttering as his own high takes over.
You feel the warmth spreading through you and it causes you to clench around him tighter than before. Aaron moans and grunts in your ear again before pulling out. You're both panting and trying to catch your breath. He's sweating and you know he must be uncomfortably hot in that dark grey suit that you can't wait to get him out of.
You are wobbly, not uncommon after you're with Aaron, but he continues to help you stay upright. It takes you a couple of minutes before you can say anything.
"Aaron, that was amazing. We need to do that more often. I like you taking your frustration out on me." You manage to get out between heavy breaths. He chuckles a little and kisses the side of your head. "Sweetheart, I'm not even close to being done with you yet. It'll happen very often tonight." And with that, you're already getting worked up at the thought of what's to come next.
CW: 18+, NSFW, mdni, smut, a little angst and so much fluff.
Summary: You return home for the summer because of your parents’ drama but luckily for you, your father’s friend, Mr. Hotchner, is there to bring you some much needed comfort.
Tags/warnings: shitty family life, age gap relationship (reader is 20, Hotch is 40), teasing, groping, perv!hotch, inappropriate thoughts and behavior, grinding, daddy kink bc fuck you, fingering (f receiving), protected piv sex (wrap it before you tap it or at least make sure you talk it over with your partner and get tested!).
a/n: Thank you so much to @canuck-eh for writing Loose Morals and reigniting my passion to write this series, and to @xladyxdreamer for putting up with my Moments angst to the point where this series is now my penance for it. Finally, to whoever started the DBF!Hotch train, you are a god and I love you.
Disclaimer: YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO REPOST MY WRITING ANYWHERE ELSE WITHOUT MY CONSENT. REBLOGS ARE ENCOURAGED THOUGH. YOU MAY NOT FEED MY WORK TO ANY AI DATABASES OF ANY KIND OR TO USE MY WORKS TO TRAIN AI. FUCK AI.
Coming back home in the middle of summer was…a lot. You’d just finished your second year away at college and you weren’t supposed to come back home until Christmas six months later, a compromise you’d agreed to only for your mother. But then she’d called out of the blue, sobbing, hysterical, and you had booked a flight back home to Virginia before she’d even hung up.
When you did finally arrive the morning after, she was much calmer, but the edge in her voice remained and you knew something was wrong. The only problem was that she refused to tell you what it was. It wasn’t until your high school friend took you out to lunch later that she finally clued you in as to what was going on.
Your father had apparently been caught getting busy with another one of the professors at the college he taught at. Someone had taken a…suggestive picture and now everything was in shambles. Well, not everything, mostly just his own marriage. From the little bits of information you were able to string together from your mother, it was clear that he was gaslighting her into believing that the picture was taken out of context and he wasn’t actually having an affair.
It had all blown up in your face about twenty minutes ago. Your house was packed with people, mostly your father’s close friends, colleagues, and their wives. He had decided to host an end of term/start of summer cocktail party to quell whatever doubts lingered amongst his social circles that whatever had or had not been taken didn’t mean anything and his marriage was still going strong. What he hadn’t accounted for, however, was you coming back to make sure your mother was alright.
You’d been holding onto the anger all afternoon as you followed your mother around, yelling and complaining and just desperately trying to reason with her. You’d never been a huge fan of your father. Sure, he’d done the bare minimum to give you life and was now paying for the part of your tuition that wasn’t covered by all the scholarships you’d gotten so that you didn’t have to graduate with massive loans. But aside from the small kindnesses he awarded you every so often, your relationship was nonexistent.
It was almost as if he’d predicted your mood because he didn’t arrive at the house until the party was minutes from starting. You had thought about leaving, about going out and getting wasted with your high school friends, but before you could even tell your mother you were going out, you found her crying in the master bedroom. And just like that you were back to seeing red.
The door swung open and you practically stormed towards it like a woman possessed.
“We need to talk,” you started. “No, let me rephrase, I need to scream at you and you’re going to listen—”
“Honey,” your father said sternly, opening the door fully. “Do not be rude to Aaron, say hello.”
Shame hit you like a bus as Mr. Hotchner came into focus behind your father. Fuck, he was good. It was eerie how clever your father could be when he didn’t want to be told off, when he knew that he’d done something wrong and instead of owning up to it he’d do everything in his power to avoid talking about it.
“Hi, Mr. Hotchner,” you managed through gritted teeth as your father walked past you and into the kitchen.
“Hello, sweetheart,” he replied, an amused smile on his lips. “I didn’t know you were coming back for summer break.”
“I’m not,” you tried to keep your voice steady. He must’ve known why you were angry, why the sudden outburst, but he didn’t reply, he simply nodded, lips in a thin line, trying to look anywhere but you.
“Well,” he broke the short silence. “I better put this on ice.”
He held out a bottle of Scotch he’d presumably brought over from his own house next door and walked after your father. You stood alone at the open door, the freedom of the night away from the exhaustion of fighting against your parents alluring. And yet you couldn’t seem to walk out, couldn’t seem to will your legs to move you in the direction of the rational choice.
Your heart was beating unbearably fast, and it wasn’t because of whatever was happening between your parents. No, it had everything to do with the FBI agent that had just walked into your home and the way he had clearly glanced down at your exposed cleavage before he had to immediately shift his gaze to anything else.
Aaron didn’t want to leave you there but he truly didn’t have a choice. You were wearing a tight black dress, so tight in fact that he could’ve sworn he saw every curve of your body. What had made it even worse was the way your breasts were practically spilling out of the garment, the trim of your lacy bra peeking around the edges. He’d felt like a teenager all over again, his crotch tightening uncomfortably as he tried his hardest to listen to the words coming out of your mouth to make sure that he responded eloquently.
Your mother had already put out ice buckets and he practically slammed the bottle into an empty one. Was it stupid to chill Scotch? He honestly couldn’t even remember anymore as he desperately wished he could’ve dunk his already hardening erection on the ice as well. He needed to get a grip, needed to calm down, needed to pretend like he hadn’t already seen your body in the many pictures you had posted online in the two years that you’d been gone.
He served himself a double, watching as you left the door wide open and retreated back upstairs. He lingered by the table for a moment, finishing his drink and calming himself down. He’d known you for a little over two years, at least on a first name, dinner at your house every month, type of way. You had just graduated high school when he started teaching part time at the college where your father also taught. The two of them had become fast friends and in the months that followed while you waited out the summer to start classes you had babysat Jack while Aaron was away on cases.
It was wrong and he definitely knew it. But there was something so captivating about you, about your kindness and curiosity and interest in not only his work but in him as a person. You loved getting to know people, getting to share secrets and discuss the root of existence and emotion and life. It was easy to forget that you were this young, your eloquence far higher than most of the adults that had just started shuffling into your home.
He’d filled his glass up once more as your father’s friends and his colleagues arrived. He plastered on a polite smile and greeted everyone as they made their way through the house. The repetitive nature of small talk for the next twenty minutes allowed him to forget about you, calm his body down enough to appear normal, collected.
He had migrated to the backyard with the rest of his colleagues after a while, the men around him engaged in mindless conversation about the break ahead, their vacation plans, and anything that wasn’t about the elephant in the room, because he knew, they all knew, that your father had clearly been caught redhanded and if they didn’t get their wives to agree that he was nothing more than a victim, they could be taken down next.
You waited until the backyard was packed with people before you emerged from your room. If your father didn’t want his friends gossiping about his affair tonight then you’d give them something else to talk about. And what better thing to gossip about than your father’s college age daughter practically displaying her body for all of his married friends and their wives.
Wearing that skimpy thing that did nothing to cover you up could only mean one thing – you were trying to get back at your father. Aaron couldn’t help but almost choke on his drink as he watched you saunter back out of the house. His ears began ringing loudly as you swayed your hips, clearly asking for attention. You walked right up to the edge of the pool and dove in without so much as a single word, the stark contrast between the cocktail party and your rebellious, summer blowout attitude jarring.
He couldn’t help but notice your father’s absence back out in the courtyard, your mother also conveniently nowhere to be seen. He could only assume that she was either consoling his poor, broken ego or sucking him off inside. Either outcome made him feel incredibly bad for you, bad that you had to come back home to rumors of your father’s infidelity and your mother’s complete denial of it.
While she was working overtime trying to fix a one sided relationship, you were determined to lash out against it in the most childish way you could possibly think of, and that unfortunately meant parading around your backyard filled with middle aged men in practically nothing.
Well, fortunate for him because he got to see the way your nipples hardened against the sheer fabric the second you stepped out into the cold night air, got to marvel at way your waist dipped into your full hips, the plush muscle begging to be squeezed tightly, got to catch the faintest glance at the outline of your pussy against the red material. It was unfortunate because he knew he wasn’t the only one staring at you and he had to bite his tongue as he began to hear the men around him murmur about your body.
He wanted to step up and use his own frame to shield you from them, to hide you away from their practically salivating stares. But instead he simply took a sip of his drink and allowed himself to watch you like a hawk, to silently guard, determined to step in if any of them actually decided to turn their thoughts into action. Because even then he couldn’t help but feel protective of you.
Your father came barrelling out of the house mere minutes later, your mother practically running to catch up and stop him. He was about to blow up, about to make a scene, one that you were eagerly waiting for when her hand landed on his chest and he seemingly remembered where he was and who he was surrounded by. He instantly relaxed his face and Aaron couldn’t help but take a step forward, tense and ready to fight him.
“Honey,” your mother spoke instead, layering the guilt on thick. “Please get out of the pool, I don’t want you catching a cold.”
Aaron set his glass down and walked over to the little hamper by the grill, expertly fishing out a large towel. He could feel everyone else start to notice that he’d moved, that he was inserting himself into something that clearly had nothing to do with him. But it didn’t matter the second that your round, hurt, expressive eyes met his. His gaze softened, just for you, to let you know that you didn’t want to make this any worse than it already was. And for the first time ever, you listened to him.
Your mother thanked him as he walked around them, towel extended in his hands for you to simply curl yourself into it. He could tell your cheeks were flushed with embarrassment, and when he draped the fabric over your shivering body, he could smell the faint, lingering scent of alcohol on your breath. He sighed deeply, just for himself and you followed suit, taking the moment to compose yourself.
“Thank you,” you whispered, delicate fingers taking the towel from him and wrapping it around yourself, terrified of what your reaction would be if you’d let him do it for you. You were back inside the house in seconds, the party resuming quickly as your parents started their rounds of greetings and small talk. He lingered by the pool for a few minutes, not wanting to be incredibly obvious about following you inside.
He told himself that he only wanted to make sure you were alright, that there was nothing wrong with being concerned for you after what had just happened. And so when the waiters began to pass out hors d'oeuvres, he took advantage of the distraction and slipped back into the house.
“Sweetheart?” he whispered loudly as he willed the wood beneath his feet not to creak loudly against the final step of the staircase. “Are you alright?”
The second floor was deserted, terrifyingly quiet and dark. He noticed the light was on in your bathroom across the hall from your room and he approached. The second his shadow landed over the wood, the door swung wide open, greedy hands grabbing a hold of his shirt and pulling him into the small room.
“I need you,” you slurred, your hands sliding down towards his belt, trembling fingers struggling with the silver buckle. He couldn’t stop the groan that erupted from his throat, the sounds spurring you on.
He was so distracted by the thrill, the shock and surprise of your neediness, of your clear desire for him that his brain short circuited for a second, lost to the sensations he’d been craving from you for years.
You’d never done anything like this before, never even flirted with each other as far as he was concerned since he made sure to watch his words around you, only allowing himself one thing, to call you sweetheart. Which could only indicate that your sudden boldness meant that you’d thought about this just as much as he had, that you’d caught him staring at you with hunger in his eyes just like he’d caught you staring at him with danger in yours.
“Sweetheart,” he said bluntly, trying to use his words before he was forced to use his hands to stop you. “You’ve had a lot to drink,” you scoffed. “You’re upset,” your hand squeezed over the outline of his cock and it took everything in him to not let out a single sound. That seemed to do the trick as your confident demeanor slipped away and the terrified girl desperately trying to hide resurfaced.
Tears laced your eyes, your chest began to shake, your hands trembled, slowly slipping away from his body. He scooped them both up in his warm, large palms, bending your arms over your chest before pressing you tightly to his. You began to sob then and it broke Aaron’s heart. Your face landed over his frantically beating heart. If you noticed through your tears you made no effort to comment on it. He held you like that for a while, not caring at all that his clothes were definitely wet now.
“I’m sorry,” you whispered to him, arms crossing over your chest in a feeble attempt to cover yourself up now that you were clearly not going to get what you’d wanted only seconds before. He crouched down and picked up the towel off the floor, this time making it a point to drape it over you and wrap you tightly in it. You felt like a child, a dumb, stupid child that had just thrown a tantrum and had been scolded. It was humiliating.
“There’s nothing to be sorry for, sweetheart,” he assured you, allowing himself to talk down to you just a little. His heart was still racing, his mind even more so now as he realized that the barrier that he’d put up between the two of you all those years ago had just been shattered into a million pieces. “Why don’t you take a shower and get some sleep?”
You nodded, refusing to look him in the eyes. But he would not have it. He hooked a finger under your chin, gently yet forcefully, pulling your gaze up to meet his. His thumb ghosted over your bottom lip, your mouth opening slightly without him doing anything to you.
“Good girl,” he hummed and you practically whimpered, your thighs pressing together. The side of his mouth curled into the tiniest of smirks before he removed his hand from your body completely and walked out the door, leaving you alone in your bathroom with a fire burning in your chest.
You were unsure when the decision had been made, but you’d awoken the next day to a letter from your mother on the kitchen counter, the house spotless as the cleaning crew she’d hired probably went through it the night before. Your parents were gone for the rest of the summer, apparently one of your father’s friends had a timeshare at some resort in Italy and they were able to squeeze your parents into their trip last minute.
You released a sigh you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. The memories of the events of the night before had been washing over you in powerful, drowning waves ever since you opened your eyes fifteen minutes ago. You regretted at least ninety percent of your actions, having been so wrapped up in getting back at your father that you had completely forgotten that your actions would also affect your mother. The look of disappointment, of complete and utter shame and embarrassment that had taken over her face as she spoke to you haunting, especially now in the brightness of the day.
And then there was Mr. Hotchner. Fuck, you cringed every time you remembered what you’d done, how you’d come onto him so pathetically. You couldn’t deny the rejection didn’t hurt but he had been right. You were upset, unbelievably so, and it would’ve stung even more to think of your first time with him to have been because you were trying to make your father angry, not because you actually wanted to sleep with him.
And oh boy did you want to.
As much as Freud was an idiot, you were very aware after two years of your psychology degree that your attraction to older men had everything to do with your need to seek the approval your father denied you from your romantic partners.
You’d had a very childish crush on Mr. Hotchner for years. It was silly, something that kept your pussy wet at night and made your friends giggle whenever you told them about the hot neighbor that you used to babysit for. But you knew he was unattainable. You could never have him, and sadly, that only made you want him even more.
In an act of defiance you hadn’t done what he’d told you to do the night before. Instead you took off the remaining pieces of clothing you still had on and tossed them into your shower before you walked across the hall to your room, pulled out the shitty bullet vibrator you’d left behind two years ago, and desperately tried to get yourself off. To say you’d been unsuccessful, your fingers and the weak device never even coming close to what you truly desired, what you needed.
That had only made you angrier, angrier at yourself, angrier at him. By the time you had drank your first cup of coffee all of your embarrassment had washed away into cold, seething irritation. He clearly wanted you just as much as you wanted him. You definitely hadn’t imagined the way he responded to your touch, the way he’d groaned in response. And that was the problem. He’d been holding himself back, whatever friendly relationship the two of you had built, one that you regarded as honest and sincere nothing more than a facade he’d concocted to keep you at arm’s length.
You grabbed a pair of sunglasses that your mother must’ve left on the kitchen counter and placed them over your eyes before walking back out to your backward. You were aware that there was a specific spot in front of the sliding doors that he could see from his house next door. You’d noticed it when you were babysitting one time, the thrill that he could’ve seen you in your bikini at some point that summer driving you insane.
You didn’t want to be at arm’s length anymore. You refused to let whatever fears you were holding onto because of his relationship with your father to stop you from going after what you’d wanted for so long.
You dragged a lounge chair over to that exact spot, the blaring sun perfectly over it as the excuse you needed in case he brought up your pathetic ploy. Once you were satisfied with your placement you shrugged off the robe you’d been wearing, the fabric falling off your shoulders and pooling around your feet in an instant to reveal absolutely nothing covering your body.
You’d fallen asleep at some point, completely naked and aggravated. You made sure to take your time getting into a comfortable position over the chair, chest out, legs curled suggestively, putting all of your assets on display. With the bait set, it was now a matter of waiting for him to bite.
You heard him yell your name across your house about ten minutes later. It didn’t surprise you that he had his own set of keys, your stomach already twisting in anticipation and excitement at just how easy it had been to get him exactly where you wanted him.
“Are you decent?” he asked with a smirk in his voice. He knew you weren’t. “Jack is here with me.”
You practically leapt off the chair, frantically picking up the robe and putting it on as the two of them walked out onto the backyard. Jack said your name then, chipper and excited, immediately melting away any ice left behind. You turned around just in time for the boy to wrap himself around your legs, squeezing you into a tight hug which you reciprocated, pulling him up to sit on your hip.
“Hi, angel,” you greeted the boy. “How’s summer treating you?”
“Hot,” he replied, trying to push himself away from you. You couldn’t help but laugh, setting him back down in the shade. “Can we swim in your pool?”
“Of course you can!” you replied. “Do you mind if I join you?”
The boy’s eyes practically widened out of his head in joy, turning back to his dad with just an unbelievable amount of energy.
“Not at all,” Mr. Hotchner replied for him and you shot him a smile before you excused yourself to go change into something kid appropriate.
To say that he’d seen your little display was an understatement. He’d been sitting on his desk in his home office, finalizing his weekly schedule with Jessica when he saw you step out. He knew, after much trial and error, that you couldn’t see him from this angle, and so he made no effort to move to get a better look.
And then you took off your robe and he was abruptly presented with your naked body. His mouth went dry in an instant, his pupils dilated, his heart pounded against his chest. It took him a full minute to realize that Jessica was trying to get his attention before his brain reconnected with his body and he asked her to repeat herself.
Five minutes later he was hanging up the call and rushing down the hall to ask Jack if he wanted to go swimming. The boy practically leapt to his feet, running across his room to get himself ready. They didn’t have a pool at their house, so your mother had generously let them use theirs after you went away for college. She’d even gotten them key to the house and sent him the alarm code every time they changed it just in case.
Aaron changed into his swimsuit in record time, practically tripping as he ran back and forth, all over the house, looking for the many, many toys that Jack definitely needed to stay distracted for the next few hours. As much as he wanted to walk over alone, find you naked and eager for him, fuck you on the lounge chair and then probably inside the pool to cool off, he couldn’t leave Jack behind, he wouldn’t leave Jack behind because he didn’t want you to know just how much you had affected him.
This was a power move, one that he had fallen for instantly. What he needed to do was not give in, not give you what you wanted, continue to frustrate you, to tease you until you couldn’t take it anymore, all because he wanted to remind you that he held all the cards, that he was the one calling the shots, that he would be the one on top while you writhed in pleasure beneath him.
You returned a few minutes later in a plain black one piece. To say he was disappointed was an understatement, but he admired your decorum while you were around Jack. It was like a flip had switched, eyes clouded with lust and desire clearing away to joy and excitement to spend your day with a hyperactive kid instead of lazily sunbathing your troubles away.
You handed Mr. Hotchner a bottle of sunscreen, having specifically chosen the cream kind instead of the spray so that he’d be forced to touch you when you asked, “Would you mind getting my back?”
He looked up at you with the same eyes from last night and you were surprised your knees didn’t buckle. He looked at Jack then to make sure the boy was adequately engrossed in his toys, clearly deciding which ones he was going to play with first, before he opened the bottle and squirted some of the cream into his palm.
“On my lap,” he ordered, low and just for you to hear. Your eyes immediately darkened and he smirked knowingly. You rolled your eyes then, reminding yourself that today was just playful after all.
You stepped forward towards his opened legs and prettily sat yourself down on his thigh, your back to him. You’d already put your hair up so he went right in. His warm, sticky palms landed on the sides of your neck first, slowly sliding down your shoulders before they returned to the center and then slid down your exposed back. While you couldn’t wear the skimpy, barely there suit you wanted, you’d still chosen something that gave him a subtle peek of your body.
He continued his movements, unapologetically taking his time, dragging his touches, lingering over your neck and putting pressure around it. You shivered under his hands, your ass unconsciously grinding down on his leg.
“Be a good girl and stay still,” he purred in your ear, his breath hot against your skin. You stilled immediately, his fingers squeezing around your neck softly in reward. “All done.”
Your brain processed the words and yet you made no effort to stand up, and he made no effort to make you. His hands grazed down your arms, the backs of his fingers practically leaving feather light kisses on your skin until they landed on your hips. He gave your love handles a squeeze before he let his hands settle over your lap, leaning down to rest his chin on the crook of your neck.
The gesture itself had been so casual yet unbearably intimate that you didn’t notice you’d stopped breathing until your lungs started to burn. You inhaled sharply, your entire body shivering as you tried to keep the panting at bay.
“You say the word and I’ll stop, sweetheart,” he whispered against your neck, gentle and kind, his tone meant to reassure you that you still had power. You nodded and he pressed a kiss below your ear, making you shudder once more. “So responsive for me.”
A whine escaped your lips, making Jack turn back to face the two of you. His hands were off you before you could even register, your own body reacting instinctively as you shot up to your feet.
“Ready to get in the water?” you managed, flashing the boy a bright smile. He nodded enthusiastically, picking up a few of his diving toys in one hand before taking your outstretched hand with his other one. He diligently led you to the shallow end of the pool and Aaron watched as you both threw the little fishes into the deep end, giggling as Jack tried to toss them farther than you.
He took a moment to compose himself, a moment to shift the material of his swim suit to try and hide the evidence of his arousal. He hated how easy it was for him to come undone around you, how you had him wrapped around your finger and could get him hard by simply existing. It made him feel young again, his libido higher than it’d been in years, and it was all because of you.
He was brought out of his thoughts when he heard you and Jack splash against the water. Jack resurfaced first, already panting as he worked overtime to keep himself above water. You appeared then, like a beautiful mermaid coming above water to lure unsuspecting sailors to their deaths. And in that moment Aaron knew that he’d sink to the bottom of the ocean if it meant he could have even a taste of you.
“Daddy!” Jack yelled, getting his attention. “Come into the pool!”
“Yeah, daddy,” you teased. “What are you waiting for?”
All the playfulness drained from his face in a second, making you choke on your own saliva in response before it reappeared as if nothing had happened. Your thighs rubbed together, the knowledge of the effect your words had had on him thrilling.
“Coming buddy,” he replied to the boy, choosing to ignore you as he stood back up, kicking off his flip flops and cannonballing into the pool.
Jack’s laughter brought you back down to reality as the waves his dad had created crashed over you, cooling your overheating face. You watched him resurface at the other end of the pool, one of the fishes you’d thrown under between his fingers.
“One to zero,” he announced playfully and Jack gasped, immediately diving down to gather as many fishes as he could, giving Aaron the perfect pocket of privacy to glance back at you. His face fell into a stern look of warning, daring you to call him that again to see what you could find out.
You smirked back briefly before diving underwater, the mere mention of a challenge overshadowing whatever tension lingered between the two of you.
You grabbed three fishes, swimming across the pool towards him underwater. You made sure Jack was above water before you made your move, fingers wrapping around Mr. Hotchner’s trunks to pull yourself out of the water as you practically climbed him.
You felt him tense against your touch and that made your body flood with warmth once more. You made him feel like this, you made him react like this, you had the same effect on him that he had over you.
Your head pierced the surface and he wasted no time pulling you further out of the water, his arm hooking around your waist again and pressing your hip against his painfully hard erection.
You gasped loudly, nervously looking around and noticing that Jack had thankfully gone back underwater so at the very least he wouldn’t see the euphoric expression on your face.
“Fuck,” you moaned, your hands steadying yourself against his chest. “Mr. Hotchner,” you whined and his grip tightened.
For a second you forgot about where you were and the game you were still playing. Your eyes landed on his. They were hazy, glossed over and dangerously close to snapping.
“Address me properly,” he ordered, lifting his knee to slide between your legs and press you further into him. You swallowed a moan, your breathing ragged, your skin unbearably tight over your body.
You opened your mouth to speak but the word was screamed into existence by a voice that wasn’t yours. The two of you turned to face Jack who was eagerly swimming over to where the two of you were. You started to shift uncomfortably, trying to pull away from him, but he kept you in place as if you weren’t caught in a compromising position.
“Did you get tired of swimming?” Jack asked you like this was the most normal thing in the world and you managed a nod. “That’s okay! I get tired sometimes and daddy has to hold me too.”
Your cheeks heated up once more and you thanked every deity out there that the sun was so hot on your skin that the kid didn’t notice a change. Jack reached out and grabbed a hold of his father’s shoulder to keep himself above water before pulling out his other hand from under the water, a fistfull of the colorful fishes in his palm.
“I got six!” he told you and you finally snapped out of your daze, groaning dramatically as you showed him your own loot only being three.
“I demand a rematch!” you told the boy before tossing your fishes back into the pool. He followed your lead and held your stare, the two of you seizing the other up before he got tired of waiting and dove back into the water, his giggles getting swallowed by the water.
“Little cheater!” Aaron let you go then and you followed after the boy. You were so concerned with winning the silly game that you didn’t even notice the dopey smile across his face, one that he couldn’t hide from himself, one that almost made his heart burst with happiness.
You played with the fishies a few more times until Jack was complaining that he was starting to get hungry and the three of you got out of the pool to dry off while Mr. Hotchner ordered lunch.
You reapplied Jack’s sunscreen, placed a hat over his head and a towel over his body before you walked into the house to make a pitcher of lemonade and get some of the fruit your mother had bought a few days ago so that you could snack on it while you waited for the pizza to get there.
You’d cut the lemons and had started squeezing them into the pitcher when his hands wrapped around your waist again, his front pressing against your back forcefully. You ground your ass back into him, never once stopping your task.
“Hi,” he whispered in your ear.
“Hello,” you replied, squeezing a half of a lemon with your hand, too lazy to get something else dirty.
“Thank you for today,” he continued, his hands now slowly running up and down your sides, begging to elicit a reaction from you. “I know it’s not exactly what you planned but Jack is having a lot of fun.”
You hummed in agreement. “I’m having a lot of fun too.”
“Oh, yeah?” he stepped forward, locking you in place between the counter and his chest. “I’m having a lot of fun three.”
You snorted at the insinuation and the terrible joke, and he laughed in return, the two of you devolving into a fit of giggles like you’ve known each other intimately for years. And in a weird, almost strange way, you had. You’ve always had this rapport with him, this deep understanding of each other, mostly because you were both so into the other that you’d actually spent many nights asking questions, eager to know more.
“Can I kiss you?” he asked you once the laughter subsided and your heart started beating rapidly once more.
You immediately twisted around in his grip, holding your hands up and away from him as the juices from the lemons ran down your arms.
“Yes,” you heaved and he didn’t waste another second as he pressed his lips to yours. They were so soft and still warm from the sun still lingering over them, lulling you into a sense of safety. You opened your lips as his hands left your waist and cupped your jaw to press you further into him. You moaned into his mouth as his tongue entered, deepening the kiss into a hungry and desperate mess.
He pulled back so you could breathe after a few more laps and your eyes blinked open, the light reflecting against them and making them shine almost ethereally. He smiled, his thumbs rubbing over your cheeks. You returned the smile, somehow already feeling warm and fuzzy from just a kiss. He leaned in again, his nose playfully tickling your own, making you giggle sweetly. He truly wanted nothing more than to make you laugh all the time.
He was about to press his lips against yours again, already craving the feeling like a man that had been left to wander the desert for days, when his phone rang loudly, interrupting the tender moment. He sighed deeply, apologetically looking at you and you immediately shook your head, letting him know not to worry about it. He picked up the phone, determined to make the conversation quick so he could return to what he truly wanted to do.
In the meantime you finished the lemonade, washed your hands with soap, and brought the pitcher, some glasses, and the bowl of cubed watermelon to the table outside. You checked in on Jack, the boy having fallen asleep, making you chuckle softly. You sat yourself at the table and waited for him to come back, already missing his lips.
It was certainly an interesting turn of events, made even more interesting by how easy it was to fit into his life. Even with your parents you always felt like the odd one out, like they were their own thing and you just sort of existed around them. But with Mr. Hotchner and Jack…you felt like you just fit right in, like you’d always been a part of their family.
When he finally exited into the backyard he bore a very different expression on his face, one of remorse and stress. The playfulness from before had left his body and all that remained was the stoic FBI agent you’d sometimes get when he returned from cases or…got called into one.
You sighed deeply, knowing that was exactly what had happened and he had to stop himself from melting at the thought that you just knew what he needed before he could even ask it.
“Do you need me to look after Jack?” you asked as he sat down on the chair across from you.
“Please,” he replied, taking your hand in his and squeezing gently. “Jessica can pick him up at school Wednesday afternoon and take him to her place.”
You nodded, returning the squeeze and trying to alleviate his guilt with an understanding smile.
“When do you leave?” he asked you then, one of the many elephants in the room finally getting addressed.
“Friday morning,” you replied and it was his turn to sigh, defeated. As much as you understood his work and just how much he needed it, he also understood your own, your life being far away from D.C., far away from him. He just wanted you all to himself, here with him all the time, and it pained him that he couldn’t have it.
After allowing himself another moment of sitting in silence, of feeling his emotions and letting them tear his heart into pieces, he stood up, pulling you to your feet with him. He crushed his lips to yours and your hands finally tangled in his hair, his own greedily squeezing your hips.
“Pizza should be here any minute,” he mumbled against your lips.
“I got it, don’t worry,” you replied, pressing a closed kiss on the corner of his mouth. “Why don’t you say goodbye to Jack?”
He nodded, reluctantly letting you go as he knelt down beside the lounge chair and woke the boy up. You watched as they said their goodbyes, your fingers coming up to trace your lips where he’d just kissed you, all the conflicting things you were feeling crashing over you at once.
The first phone call came that same night. It was late, you were already asleep when your phone vibrated on the nightstand next to you. You were honestly surprised that you’d heard it, annoyed more so than surprised as your eyes blinked open painfully.
“Hello?” your voice was deep, hoarse and clearly exhausted.
“Hi, sweetheart,” his on the other hand was soft and awake.
“Hi,” you replied, settling back on the soft pillow and closing your eyes.
“Did I wake you?”
“Mhmm,” you whined and it broke his heart.
“I’m sorry,” to his credit, he did sound sorry.
“It’s okay,” you mumbled.
“I just wanted to say goodnight to Jack.” And to you.
“He fell asleep immediately…” You tried to stay awake, desperately, but sleep was pulling you down, the heat from spending the entire day under the sun had seeped deep into your bones, making them heavy. The current had sinked your boat and you were peacefully sinking under the waves with it. You didn’t even register him calling your name, realizing that you were probably out of it, and finally telling you that he’d call you another time.
You woke up bright and early the next morning, your senses overwhelmed by just how much his bed smelled like him.
It was honestly a stupid thought, that the things that were his carried him with them, but it didn’t matter how many times you’d slept here in the past, there was something so all consuming about them now.
Your three days with Jack went by quickly. You had forgotten how much of a perfect kid he was, how attentive and kind and easy it was to take care of him. Getting him ready for school was a breeze, breakfasts were filled with laughter and him rambling on about the dream he’d had the night before. Once you dropped him off at school, you found yourself missing him more than you ever had, and so you spent your days wandering aimlessly.
On Monday you cleaned the entire house, top to bottom. You put on one of Mr. Hotchner’s records on and drowned the house in music, your voice booming just as loudly as the singer’s, wanting nothing more than to distract yourself from the ache in your chest.
On Tuesday there was a lice outbreak and luckily, Jack was not affected. They still had to shut down the school for the day, so Jack had gotten a half day. You took him to the store to buy enough baking supplies to start your own bakery, and spent the rest of the afternoon making cookies and cupcakes.
It was around six that your phone rang. You were in the kitchen, cooking dinner for the two of you. Saucepan forgotten, you immediately crossed the room, fingers fumbling to answer the phone.
“Hey, give me one second,” you cut him off, putting him on speaker before you stepped out into the hall. “Jack! Your dad’s on the phone!”
“I don’t know if I should be touched or offended that you don’t want to speak with me,” he cracked and you couldn’t help but smile, making your way back to the device on his counter.
“I always want to talk to you,” you hummed. “But I also know you’re busy and—”
“Dad!” Jack ran into the kitchen, swiping the phone away from you and running right back down the hall. You laughed to yourself, returning to the stove before you burnt something.
You hadn’t been speaking, not really. Every so often you’d send him a picture of what you were up to and he’d do his best to reply, always short and sweet. He never sent any pictures of his own for obvious reasons, but it still made your heart constrict every time that you woke up the morning after to a missed call from him.
They were on the West Coast, in a small town somewhere in Oregon. At least that’s what you’d gathered from the messages here and there. By Wednesday you said goodbye to Jack at dropoff and told him you’d see him for Christmas. He was, understandably, very upset, since you’d just spent, what he kept calling, the best three days of his life with him. It broke your heart, shattered it into a million pieces, but you reminded him that you didn’t live there anymore and that you had other places to be. Obviously not cooler than spending time with him, but that it was still important.
Jessica called you that afternoon to let you know that she had Jack and you chatted for a bit. She was always so easy to talk to, her openness to their strange family dynamic almost overwhelmingly supportive. She always remembered your birthday, always sent you a card (one that you knew she’d been making Mr. Hotchner and Jack to sign every year), and always made sure to ask if you were coming back home for any major break.
She liked having you around, liked the extra support you had given them while Jack was out on his own break, liked that the boy clearly loved you and felt safe around you. And after the three days you had spent with him then, it only made sense to start thinking about actually coming back home next summer to help them out, to have an excuse to see him as often as you could.
You spent Wednesday and Thursday working on the tasks you'd been left with from your internship. They had graciously allowed you to go home after you informed them there was a family emergency, but you still had to meet the weekly quota, just like everyone else. Being in your house alone was...exhausting. It was too quiet, too empty, too devoid of Jack's infectious laugh and...and Mr. Hotchner's low and inviting voice.
You hadn't spoken to him since you let him know Jessica had picked his son up. You knew he was busy, knew that he probably didn't want to speak to you while his mind was not in the right place, while he was using most of his energy to do his job. He didn't text and so neither did you. And as much as you understood why, the silence had only made your heart clench in pain, your brain already overthinking all the possibilities.
He was supposed to arrive in a few hours, having received the only text he'd sent to tell you that they were about to take off and that he should be back home in a few hours.
You’d decided to get one last swim in before you returned to your concrete life that was Brooklyn. But if you were being honest with yourself, you just needed a distraction.
You’d been drowning, quite literally, as the finality of the distance that you were about to put between yourself and Mr. Hotchner loomed closer and closer. Sure, he traveled a lot for work, he was away at least sixty percent of the time…but you had moved away two years ago with the intention of cutting yourself loose of all the ties keeping you in D.C.
It had been easy to do so, the only one that truly hurt you every day being your mother. But now, after sitting with your overwhelming crush that has snowballed into catching actual feelings for him…was hell.
You needed to talk to him about it, needed to ask him to tell you that everything was going to be okay, that you could make this work, whatever this was. But you also didn’t want to pressure him, didn’t want to pressure yourself to get tied down to something that could very easily not work out.
You were floating on your back, simply allowing the water to gently rock you around the pool when you saw a pair of slacked legs walking towards the edge of the pool.
“There you are, sweetheart,” he hummed. “I’ve been calling for a whole minute and you didn’t answer.”
You stood yourself up, shooting him an apologetic smile as you walked towards him.
“'m sorry,” you murmured, the tightening on your heart only squeezing harder now that he was really here. He shot you a smile in response but he looked tired, defeated almost. You could only imagine what it must feel like to walk around with all of that weight, with the burden of the atrocious things they dealt with every day.
He squatted down next to the edge and you propped yourself up on the space between his legs to pull yourself high enough for his lips to reach yours. The kiss was short and soft, domestic almost, as if you did this every time he came back home from a long case.
You slid back into the water, unable to hold yourself up any longer as an excuse to put some distance between the two of you. You were certain that if he stared at you for even a second longer, he would definitely know there was something wrong, that somehow he’d be able to see into your body and realize just how contorted your heart was.
“Join me?” you asked, trying to change the subject before it was even brought up.
He sighed, conflicted. “I don’t think we should, sweetheart.”
“Please,” you whined. “I promise I’ll behave.”
He chuckled at that, knowing fully well that you most definitely would not, because he would most certainly not. But he found himself standing back up, quickly shrugging off his button down, the white wife pleaser underneath, his shoes, socks, and pants. You watched him in awe, mouth hanging slightly open as you began to salivate, your desire quickly making you forget all about your painful feelings.
He smirked at you as he sat down on the edge of the pool and slowly lowered himself into it. You hadn’t realized until he stretched his hand out to you that you’d drifted away to the other side of the pool. You took a small, steadying breath, trying to appear as normal as possible before you walked back to him.
His hands wrapped around you instantly, bringing you into him tightly. It was almost as if he relaxed into you, his breathing deep and steady, a drastic contrast to your rapidly beating heart. You tried so hard to copy his rhythm, to blend into it in a feeble attempt to not raise suspicion, to show him that you were happy he was back.
And it worked...for almost a second.
“Thank you for taking care of Jack,” he said.
“It was my pleasure,” you replied almost too quickly.
“Alright, what’s wrong?” he pulled back, his gaze desperately trying to meet yours.
You hated him so much, hated how good he was at his job, hated how he could read you like it was the easiest thing in the world. Meanwhile, you were having to use all of your knowledge to just guess how he was feeling.
“Nothing’s wrong,” you lied, your fingers subconsciously fiddling with his hair. He sighed, shifting your core away from his as his hand snaked down to pull your swimsuit bottoms out of the way. Your eyes widened in shock and confusion, finally snapping up to meet his but his attention was no longer on your face.
Before you could question the sudden advance, he plunged his middle finger into you, making you moan loudly, your walls clenching around him.
“Tell me what’s wrong,” he ordered, his finger curling upwards to hook against the spot that he somehow knew instinctively would make you come undone.
You whined, holding onto him tighter. “I’m scared!”
“Of what?”
“This–” he curled his finger again, another moan erupting. “Us– fuck, I’m scared that I won’t be able to see you every day and it’ll mess up whatever this is,” you practically screamed.
His movements stilled and you decided to foolishly allow yourself to meet his eyes. He was staring at you with what you could only describe as relief?
You blinked, realizing that he was allowing you to read him like he could read you. You’d said exactly what he was thinking, what he was also holding in, what the heaviness that he carried had been about.
He pressed further into you. “Do you want to be mine?”
“Yes,” you moaned. “I want to be yours, all yours.”
“That’s good,” he groaned. “Because I want to be all yours too, sweetheart.”
You whined at his words, the tight grip fear had on your heart releasing just enough to let you breathe again.
“I thought…” you trailed off, afraid that if you said what you’d thought aloud that he’d hate you. Instead he just waited patiently for you to muster the courage to say what you’d been holding in. “I thought you might only want to fuck me and nothing else.”
He shoved another finger into you at that, as if you say how dare you think that. You moaned again, your body tensing up, your walls pulsing around his fingers, practically keeping them hostage inside of you.
“So tight,” he mumbled, clearly needing a moment to regain his composure before he spoke again. “I’ve wanted you– to be with you for a while, sweetheart. I was just…afraid of how it could destroy your relationship with your parents.”
The second elephant in the room reappeared and you couldn’t help but get another one of your fears off your chest.
“Did you know he was…” you trail off before you can finish your sentence but Aaron knew exactly what you wanted to ask him.
“No, I didn’t,” he shook his head, intensely observing your reaction. When you tensed under his touch he wasted no time to press a soft kiss to your temple. If you didn’t know but now you do then why are you still hanging around with him? That was the second part of your question, of your uneasiness, of your tensing body.
“To see you,” he murmured against your skin and you pulled back from his touch, far enough to look him in the eyes. “I kept coming back to see you.”
The confession made your stomach flip. You didn’t know how to respond, how to tell him that you’d felt the same way in a way that didn’t make you come across as insane or clingy or immature. So instead you smiled softly, leaning forward to press your lips to his once more. His grip on your body tightened, his lips on yours opened, pulling you further into him. You may not have tomorrow, but you definitely had tonight.
“I am more than happy and willing to take this slow, to just see where it goes,” he makes it crystal clear, no way to misinterpret his words, no way for you to twist them until you’ve convinced yourself that you’re crazy. Instead you just let your mind free.
“Please fuck me,” you begged and a groan loudly erupted from his throat. His fingers resumed their fast pace but you whined in response, trying to stop him. “No, I need your cock in me, please.”
He shushed you then, kissing your temple gently as he only doubled down in his forcefulness.
“Let me make you cum first,” he replied. “I gotta stretch you out, you’re so tight.”
You whimpered then, a symphony of breathy moans as you remembered just how big he’d felt through his pants. If he was telling you he needed to work you up before he could slide inside of you then you would obey. Fuck, the anticipation alone was going to be the death of you.
The water began to splash over the edge, the constant crashing of waves somehow in perfect synchronicity to the pace he’d set. It quickly became overwhelming, as if your pleasure was so intense it was actually transcending your body and manipulating the world around you.
You moaned into his ear, your hands desperately digging into his back, trying to anchor yourself to him, afraid that you could slip away at any moment. He began peppering kisses along your jaw, each one lower and lower until he was physically unable to reach any more of your skin due to the water level.
You were so close, so, so, close and he could feel it. Your body had tensed, your toes curled against his lower back, pulling him closer to you. And with one final thrust against the spot inside of you that made you see stars, the band snapped and you were screaming, not caring if the neighbors could hear you.
He worked you through your orgasm, his fingers slowing down to a bearable pace as you rested your forehead against his chest.
“Are you okay, sweetheart?” he asked, clearly concerned that you hadn’t said something for a couple of minutes. You nodded against his body, slowly pushing against his chest to face him.
“Never better,” you replied and his eyebrows shot up in provocation.
“Do you want to make them a little better?” he teased and you couldn’t help the smile that took over.
“Yes.”
He pulled his hand out of you and you whined at the loss of contact.
“Such a greedy girl,” he mocked. “You’re about to be stuffed with my cock and you’re whining about missing my fingers.”
You shivered, eyes darkening as he grabbed a hold of your hand and led you back to the shallow end of the pool. He helped you out of the water, his hands attentive, possessive, never once letting you take a step without being on you.
Once you were out of the water he pulled you into him swiftly, lips back on yours with abandon. You practically melted into his touch, into his embrace, into him. Every thought in your brain was about him, about how soft his lips were, about how he smelled like a warm fire in a forest, about how his rough hands felt on your body, about how desperate he was for you.
You didn’t even register as he undid the knots of your bathing suit, only felt the cold air against your nipples, making them immediately perk up. The back of his hands accidentally brushed one as he shuffled to discard your top and you moaned into his mouth. The noise that reverberated from him in response was addictive. His eyes snapped open and he pulled back, your own lips chasing his in protest.
But he didn’t give you a second to figure him out as he arched your back with his hands, his mouth latching onto the nipple he’d just touched. It was your turn to mewl, eyes glossy and hands hungry to dig into him.
“Aaron,” you whimpered and he froze, ice cold, fully stopping his movements. His mouth softly unlatched from your breast, a thin string of saliva connecting him to you. Your face heated up immediately, the mere thought that you did something to upset him filled your eyes with tears.
“What did you say?” he asked, softly, as if he knew you were feeling like a small little animal and he needed to be careful not to spook you.
“A-Aaron?” you mumble, not even once fully comprehending what you had just done.
“You’ve never called me Aaron before,” he explained, taking pity on how much your brain was clearly not working at the moment.
You blinked in confusion, a tear accidentally falling down your cheek. He immediately wiped it away, looking down at you with eyes filled with nothing but adoration.
“I’m sorry—” you started, unsure exactly what you’re apologizing for. And he shuts you up with a kiss immediately.
“Say it again,” he groaned against your lips.
“Aaron,” you repeated, his name finally feeling heavy and important on your tongue.
He places a kiss on the corner of your mouth. “Again.”
“Aaron.”
Another kiss, this one on your neck. “Again.”
“Aaron,” he licked down to the base of your neck, his teeth greedily sinking into your soft skin as his lips suck. “Fuck, Aaron, please.”
You whined again, the sting of his mouth marking your body absolutely making you lose it. Whatever wits remained evaporated in an instant. When he pulled back, eyes practically raven, face flushed, lips plump and swollen, you couldn’t help the need to reward him.
Your hands landed on the pronounced outline of his cock against his still wet, black boxers. He wasn’t quick enough to stop you as you wasted no time pulling the fabric off him. Your eyes widened, your breathing hitched in your throat, your hand trembled slightly as you abandoned your efforts to get his boxers down his thighs and instead tentatively returned your hand to hover over his length.
He was so hard, the vein running along the underside practically pulsating. You tentatively traced it with your nail and he hissed. You smiled to yourself, your full palm replacing your finger as you wrapped your hand around him, slowly pumping him.
His own hand curled around your wrist, demanding you to stop. Your eyes shot up to finally see him, to see just how clenched his jaw was, just how deep his breathing had become.
“No, sweetheart,” he huffed. “I need you.”
As if you could both finally read each other’s minds, you untangled yourselves from each other, discarding the clothing that remained on your bodies and tossed it away before his eyes landed on you, on your naked frame, now right in front of him and not far away, separated from him by the haziness of glass.
His eyes raked lower to your pussy and his brows knitted in surprise.
“You have a tattoo,” the question blended into a statement as his hand gripped your hip, pulling you forward so that he could see it better. You bit your lip, amused by just how mesmerized he looked.
“A friend of mine gave it to me first semester,” you explained, omitting the many health code violations, how you’d been high and couldn’t remember actually getting it, or the fact that you had been sleeping with your friend when he did.
He traced his thumb over it, the placement was lower than your hip, easily hidden by your underwear and small enough that he’d never been able to make it out at a distance. His thumb dug into the center of the shitty heart then, anchoring his grip as he pulled you back to him. You moaned at the sting and it only spurred him on, the realization that you liked it when he hurt you igniting a fire in him.
His other arm hooked under your ass, lifting you over his shoulder. You gasped loudly, your confusion quickly turning into a fit of giggles as he moved you both towards the lounge chair that you had rearranged earlier that week to face his house.
He made sure to hook his foot around the pants he’d discarded earlier, kicking them forward with his foot, making sure that they landed right against the chair. He then unlatched the backrest and quickly set you down on it, your entire body over the comfortable foam cushion your mother had bought last year just for the Hotchners.
He knelt between your legs, hands running down your body to pry them open for him. It didn’t take much as you opened yourself up to him eagerly. He grinned, the smile that graced you one that you’d never seen from him before, one that even he couldn’t remember when he’d smiled like that last.
Before he forgot, he reached over to where he’d thrown his pants, growing impatient as he struggled to pull out his wallet and procure a single silver wrapper from it. You’d been so consumed by the moment that you hadn’t even thought about protection.
You thought about telling him not to, that you were on birth control and that as far as you were concerned you were clean. But you had no idea where he’d been, not that talking about his sexual partners bothered you, but bringing it up now did not seem like the right time.
“Someone was sure of himself,” you teased, watching him roll on the sheer latex over himself with more concentration than you’d ever seen from him before, and that was saying a lot.
He retaliated by slamming his tip into you without warning. Your head fell back, a moan rocking through you and down to your core, the waves reverberating against him, causing him to take a sharp, steadying breath.
“You ready, sweetheart?” he panted, a little condescending and you swallowed the urge to fight back, to resume the game you’d started when you called him daddy. He didn’t know just how deep you were willing to go, how much fun the two of you would have.
But tonight wasn’t the night for it. You needed him, craved him, desperately demanded that he fill the ache between your legs. You nodded, your hands gripping the cushion below you.
He couldn’t help but chuckle at your need to anchor yourself, his ego boosted so high he had no idea how he was supposed to come back down. But he didn’t care, he couldn’t care, not when you were laid out in front of him like a buffet, what he’d been starving for the only thing on the menu now.
His left hand wrapped around your thigh, opening you further. You propped your other leg over the armrest, and he pushed forward. He had not been lying, fortunately for you. He stretched you painfully, practically stuffing you full.
He made it halfway into you when you hissed, one of your hands shooting up to wrap around his bicep, urging him to stop. He stilled immediately, slowly rocking his hips back to slide out of you before slowly pushing himself back in.
That’s when you fell, your arms giving out under you. An accomplished grin lit up his features. He sat himself back up on his heels to tower over you. Your hand sliding down to the one he’d wrapped around your leg, your fingers lacing with his, almost like a pinky promise as he continued his slow rhythm, never giving you too much, never forcing your body to take anything it wasn’t ready for.
You could practically feel the wetness dripping out of you, coating him more and more with every thrust. He could clearly feel it too, the slick making it easier for him to slide in and out of you each time.
He took it as an indication to keep going. He thrust back into you, pushing himself just an inch further than before. You were a mess of whines and whimpers, your back arching in response, needing him fully in you.
“Please, Aaron,” you slurred. “More.”
He pulled out of you completely, the desire to see himself slam back into you fully overwhelming. His hips pushed forward, easily sliding himself inside to the hilt, your ass slapping against his hips beautifully. He moaned then, his hands flying to your hips, locking you in place. You whimpered, your head craning up enough to see there was no space left between the two of you.
“Fuck,” you mumbled, your walls clenching around him unconsciously.
His eyes shut close in pleasure at your movement, jaw clenching, fingers digging into your skin deeper. You took him in, on the verge of coming undone, on the verge of cumming in seconds like a teenage boy that didn’t know how to stop himself.
You giggled, your warm laughter bringing him back to you as he realized what you were laughing about. He scoffed, blush creeping over his cheeks in the most adorable way. You clenched around him again, deliberate and mean. He almost screamed then, the moan that left his lips guttural and raw.
“Sweetheart, you’re killing me,” he huffed. “I don’t want to cum yet, give me a second, alright?”
You sighed, feigning annoyance, but respected his request, unclenching your muscles to give him a moment of respite. Your hands began to draw circles over his own, nails slowly dragging up his arms and towards his chest, gentle, curious, exploring.
You took your time, diligently running your fingers over every ridge, every dip, every single one of the scars that littered his abdomen. They were smaller now and faded from what they had been when he was first attacked, but you knew they were there.
He hadn’t told you the full story, hadn’t really mentioned it aside from briefly alluding to it when he was forced to explain a comment Jack had made in passing one time, a comment about his mother. But you’d noticed them years ago, and as much as he could act like he was over it, like he was comfortable being shirtless around you, you needed him to know that he was safe, that he could trust you.
He didn’t flinch under your touch, instead he hummed, his own hands shifting their grip on you to show you how much he appreciated your touch.
“Did you catch the bad guy?” you asked suddenly. He turned to face you with a scolding expression, this is clearly not the time for this. It only made you laugh again, embarrassed. “What? Thinking about gross things helps!”
“I don’t want to ever think about that when I’m with you, got it?” he commanded.
“Yes, sir,” you replied and his eyes darkened once more, whatever fear of bursting immediately leaving his body as lustful greed flooded back in, emboldening him.
“What you called me the other day,” he started, somehow both confident in what he wanted to ask and yet boyishly shy about it. “Are you okay with that?”
“What did I call you?” you acted dumb, so dumb indeed that it got you another powerful, forceful jam of his cock. You squealed, his tip now uncomfortably pressing deeply into you. “No, daddy, ’s too much,” you whined, your voice hitching into a sweet, high pitch that made his cock twitch inside of you. “It hurts.”
“Too deep?” he asked in his normal voice, making sure to check in with you. You nodded, desperate for him to pull back, and he immediately returned to the comfortable pain. You let out a deep breath, air filling your lungs again. He was concerned, but more than anything he was turned on, the desire to ruin you too strong. “I’m going to start moving, alright?”
“Yes, daddy,” you mumbled and he groaned loudly, his cock practically taking on a life of its own and making him react in a way he’d never experienced before.
Aaron understood what desire was, he knew what it felt like, knew what to do with it, but this? This wasn’t desire. This was debilitating, allconsuming, painful almost. His brain disconnected from his body, it was as though he was floating next to his body as well as feeling everything that was happening around him, to him, because of him.
He wanted to consume you, wanted to lose himself to the perfect sounds coming out of you, wanted to feel your tightness around him all the time, wanted to drown and stay at the bottom of your waters forever.
His moans danced with yours in a delicate choir ensemble, the slapping of your bodies coming together becoming the bass keeping the pace, the rattling of the lounge chair against the concrete floor the percussion, the scrapping of the mattress against the plastic the strings – it was all too much, too good, too perfect.
“I’m close, sweetheart,” he whined. “Rub your clit for me.”
Whatever coherent thoughts were left in you forced your body to obey immediately, your shaky hand landing in between your bodies. Your fingers were met with a lewd amount of slick, your clit puffy and screaming out to be touched. You rolled your fingers over it and the sensitivity sent you into overdrive, a snap of electricity running all the way down to your opening.
He moaned in response, your core starting to tighten with each thrust, with each touch. The pressure was tight, tighter, desperately trying to force your dam to burst.
“Daddy,” you whimpered. “Daddy, please, please, please, please–”
“Cum, sweetheart, cum all over me,” he demanded and you let it break. Waves of pleasure crashed against you, your entire body shaking, thrashing, slamming against his. Your moans turned into whines, you dug into his forearms, your legs hooked around his waist, pulling him further into you, locking him in place.
The second he felt you clench against him, the second he felt your core tighten, your slick warm his entirety, your nails digging into his arms so hard he wouldn’t be surprised you drew blood – he lost it. He managed to thrust into you two more times before he slammed himself as far as he could inside of you, not caring if it was uncomfortable for you.
He came hot and hard into the condom, his own pleasure blurring his vision, making his own body shake against yours, making his heart feel like it had skipped a beat. He stopped breathing for a few seconds, the sensations too overwhelming for his body to remember that it needed to breathe to survive.
You were panting hard, your chest rising and falling as if you’d just ran a marathon. Your nails had stopped digging into his skin but he barely registered the lack of pain. It wasn’t until you ran your fingers over the indents in his arms that he opened his eyes, seeking yours immediately.
You waited until his gaze met yours as if it was about time it did. You smiled lazily at him, completely spent, content, satisfied. He returned the smile, allowing himself to lower his body down over yours. His chest pressed against your own, softly caging you, holding you captive as his aching lips found yours.
This kiss was unlike any of the ones you’d shared, unlike any of the ones you had shared with anyone before. It was definitive, possessive, claiming you as his, and yet it was unbearably gentle, playful, wholesome.
He was the first to pull back for air, but he didn’t move away, instead he pressed his forehead to yours, his gaze unflinching, trying to communicate so much with no words at all. It was like he was making sure to savor every last drop, committing the sight and feeling of you to memory.
Aaron took much of his life for granted, the routine of it all having numbed him to most things that other people would deem as exciting or fulfilling. The only area of his life where that wasn’t the case was his son. That little boy made everything worthwhile, every battle worth fighting, every day worth living. And now, looking at you, feeling how good he’d made you feel, he knew had found something else, someone else, that made him feel excited for what the next day could bring. That made him feel fulfilled in more ways than he could yet comprehend.
Whatever doubts you’d had, whatever walls you had started to put up to protect yourself now laid crumbled all around you. He was right from the start, you were his, whatever that happened would happen, the best that you could do was ride the waves and see where they would lead you. All that did matter was that he was there and that you knew that he was also yours.
If you made it this far, thank you so much for reading! This chapter was a blast to write after all the angst that Moments has killed me with.
My requests are open! I have a few chapter ideas for Mr. Hotchner but I would love to hear what y’all would like to see. Even if it doesn’t make it into the actual series, I will try to write some cute lil blurbs.
And also, because I’m a writer that needs validation, please leave me comments or love letters if you’d like to remain anon. I need the praise and love, thank you 🩷
Ps. The next chapter is titled Guest Lecturer so you can imagine what kind of debauchery I’m about to write.
Pss. Let me know if you’d like to be tagged in future updates!
beach day w dbf!hotch and he helps u put on sunblock but he can't help it n drags u to the bathrooms
he's first bemused when you exit your home through the screen door and onto the patio, a sheer skirt slipped around your waist and a platter of drinks balanced on one hand. the plunging neckline of your bathing suit goes unnoticed by many of the pool party's attendants, but he's fixated by them, stealing a glance at every opportunity.
the second time is when you lean over his table, re-filled plate of beverages clunking against the metal table. "hi dad," you preen, leaning over to the right to press a chaste kiss to your father's cheek. "mom's still in the kitchen, i think it's time for a shift change, don't you think?"
the drink that hotch accepts is icy cold against his fingertips, and they live markings against the cool glass when he places it back down on the table. "you're not going to say hello to aaron, sweetheart?" your father muses, pushing off the chair. "it's been a while since you've seen him, you haven't forgotten each other, have you?"
you press your lips into a forced simper, shaking your head, and hotch has to readjust the fabric of his swimming trunks. "of course not. he's always been a close friend."
your father claps a gentle hand on your bare shoulder before he departs for the kitchen, hopefully to relieve your mother from her bartending duties. your hand drifts to a stray bottle of sunblock left shielded by the shade of the umbrella above, and you offer it to the brunet. "while i have you here.." you offer, voice dripping with a sickly sweet undertone. "i forgot to put on some sun block. you wouldn't mind helping, would you, aaron? it's important to take care of your skin, you know."
he takes the offered bottle with a piercing glare, his dark eyes flitting over to the glass doors once again before they plant back onto your bare chest. if he squints, he can see the faint outline of your pebbling nipples through the thin fabric, and then he's forced to look away again. "upstairs in ten." he grunts in his gravely tone. "and not a second late."
this is a little silly but idgaf😭 going to see the new barbie movie with dbf!hotch and you dress up for it like everyones been doing and hes so fond of you and loves seeing you have fun and enjoying yourself 🥲
Hello, my sweets! I'm sorry it took a little while, but here's your little blurb/drabble/ficlet!
MINORS DNI
Pink
Pairing: Dbf!Hotch x Fem!Reader
Warnings: mentions of sex/smut. Hotch is kinda reluctant to go watch Barbie but he trusts r and of course he'd love it and its takeaway message. Hotch wears pink (and we were robbed because this should be canon). Hotch has thots. Breeding kink if you squint!
A/N: I avoided spoiling Barbie, Oppenheimer, or Ted Lasso (don't ask. OR DO! PLEASE I AM OBSESSED WITH ALL THREE!) Also, it's not your first rodeo... I didn't proofread this!
You looked beautiful in shades of pink, and he was more than happy to wear the pink shirt you’d gotten him for the occasion because it made you beam up at him adoringly.
All the way over to the movie theater, he caught you sneaking a few glances. You kept looking at him in the car, and even more so as he walked side by side with you until you both reached the theater.
Aaron loved this about you more than he could ever put into words. Whatever the occasion, you made him feel special, and today was no exception.
To be fair, he had his reservations about going to watch Barbie, but he knew your taste was impeccable so he trusted you.
The last time he’d trusted you to choose what to watch, you’d both binge-watched the entire three seasons of Ted Lasso in two days, barely getting up or leaving the safety of his apartment for 48 hours. Sleep-deprived and content, completely invested and blissful, he had cried and laughed with you, and from then on, he had trusted you to pick anything he would watch because you always chose exactly what he needed.
When you’d suggested going to the movie theater like so many other people would this weekend, he was more scared about running into your father who had mentioned earlier this week at work that he would be going to see Oppenheimer this same weekend, but Aaron had made sure to choose another movie theater than the one your father had mentioned, the one which didn’t offer the nice popcorn you so fondly remembered. You had reluctantly agreed to go somewhere else, but in exchange, Aaron would have to wear pink.
Of course, he’d do anything for you, so he would have agreed to wear pink regardless, but getting you to look at him this way was incredibly worth it. He would keep that pink shirt even after today, and he’d wear it again if it made you look at him like that, like he was someone worthy of you and your love.
Wearing a pink shirt was a small price to pay because not only was he guaranteed not to get his ass handed to him by your father for dating you, he now got to watch you almost drool as he rolled up the sleeves of the pink shirt you had put on him earlier.
Aaron smiled as he remembered how you had also taken it off him before making him book tickets for another showing, and he was more than grateful to assist to a later showing because he’d gotten to hear you moan his name in the same breath as your first “I love you”.
He had not replied on the spot as his mouth was busy getting you to utter sweet delicacies, but once you had pleaded for him to take you, he had whispered it back against your lips, he had muttered it on your skin until his hips stilled and he had buried his seed so deep inside you that it would drip out of you for hours.
In fact, he was fairly certain that even if you had peed before leaving his apartment, he was still somewhere inside you, and perhaps if he was lucky, he was coating your panties as you walked into the theater. He loved knowing you were his, and he couldn't wait to find out when he got you back to his place tonight whether his cum still slicked your folds. He would make sure to--
Aaron shook his head and willed his thoughts away. He thought about his mother’s dry oatmeal to deal with the simmering desire in his lower belly, and when he was sure he had a grip, he planted a small kiss on the top of your head before you led him to the row where your seats were.
You grinned at him as you took your seats, and now that his fingers were interlaced with yours, he was delighted he'd get to drown in the many shades of pink this experience promised.
He had to admit though, his favorite shade was by far the one he was wearing because it would always be tainted with memories of one of the happiest moments of his life.
dbf!hotch having you cockwarm him under his desk… his cock sliding so easily down your throat as you try to take all of him… his pubic hair tickling your nose. you’re so content and happy, until suddenly your dad makes a surprise visit in his office and you go to move but aaron grabs your head and makes you stay there 🤭💞💞🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋
MORGAN pls you're killing me 😭😩🤲 i love your mind 😵💫😮💨
"just like that, sweetheart" he coos from his chair, his hips gently bucking into your warm mouth and you're all too eager to accommodate more until he's reaching the back of your throat. the sounds he makes are enough for you to rub your thighs together, excitement shooting through your core. his musk is intoxicating, you're drunk on his scent and his taste. before you can come up for air, his office door opens and you squeak slightly your mouth already beginning to retract.
but you can't protest, he's already pushed your head back to it's original place. your eyes are widening, your fingers gripping his thighs but he's so calm. simply subtly comforting you, his hands knotted in your hair sweet as ever
and then it's even worse when you realise who it is, your father of all people.
your hands are gripping the pillow underneath you, trying not to make a sound. your cheeks are burning with embarrassment but your dad hasn't caught on, aaron sounds as collected as ever. as if you weren't currently choking on his cock as quietly as you could manage under his desk.
you even hear the seats opposite his desk being sat on, causing you to breathe a little heavy in impatience. you're pretty sure drool is starting to leak down your chin, your breathing slightly heavier as you grip his thighs urgently. silently begging him to wrap it up before you combust. hotch's voice is slightly strained now as he catches on but he still manages his best poker face, he's stroking your hair, his thumb under your jaw softly massaging the muscle there. his cock was twitching in your mouth and desire how desperately you want to move, his hand is still on the back of your head gentle but firm. thankfully hotch cuts the conversation short, quickly agreeing to the plans your dad has made even if it was the last thing he wanted.
"okay thanks, sunday it is" finally your dad leaves being none the wiser and you push your head away, gasping for air while hotch chuckles softly from his chair. he pulls back, looking at you from under his desk. you look so cute sitting there, he can't help but tease you
"my sweet girl, i thought you could take it??" he feigns concern, pulling you up on his lap. his thumb brushes over your bottom lip, kissing you as you try to regain your breathing again. you want to glare but you can't find it in you to even care, your wet panties testament to how much you secretly enjoyed it.
"i almost choked you know" you chuckle a little, melting under his affection. his big calloused hands running across your thighs, separating your legs as he ghosts his fingers just above your entrance
"don't you worry, i'm gonna train that pretty of yours"
dbf! hotch who won't directly touch you but will use a toy on you as you're crying and begging for his touch 😩
So Mean, but So Good
Warnings: Smut! Age gap relationship (both adults), p in v sex, unprotected sex, sex toy, mean!hotch, degradation, rough sex, dumbification, brief biting, oral (fem receiving), multiple orgasms, vaginal fingering, squirting, pet names, some overstimulation, Hotch is a little condescending in this one, slight praise, begging, teasing, scratching, aftercare, please let me know if I missed anything!
Word count: 2.2k (my longest fic in so long haha)
Pairing: dbf!hotch x fem!reader
A/n: Yes 😩. I love this so much and I really got a bit carried away with this request haha 😅. Hope you still enjoy it anon!!
@hoe4hotchner I'll tag you in this one because we talked so much about it 🤭
Let me know if you want to be added to my tags 🫶
This post is NSFW minors please DNI****
Aaron has you splayed out on his bed he's staring directly at your core. He's holding a vibrator to your clit and he has been for both of the orgasms you've had so far. It feels good, but he always feels so much better. You want his mouth and his fingers and you want them badly.
You're whining and whimpering because you feel good, but is it mostly because you just want him to touch you and he's refusing to give in to any of your pleas.
"Aaron, please touch me. I need it. Need you." You beg him and squirm. He chuckles from between your thighs and shakes his head. "No. I already told you I'm not going to touch you. Why is that so hard for you to understand, princess? You're so needy for me all the time that your toy doesn't cut it anymore, hm?" You whine again and throw your head back against his pillows with a pathetic whimper.
"You're so mean, Aaron!" He chuckles darkly this time. "I could make it worse. I could stop completely." Another whine and you look down at him. "No! No, please don't. But please, please touch me. Please? I'll be good for you. I just want you so so badly." You beg him again, tears just starting to form your eyes, and he smirks after sighing. "I don't know, sweetheart. I think it's fun watching you squirm and beg like this. Maybe a little more begging could convince me..." He smirks at you and he presses the vibrator against your clit more firmly now. You bite your lip and your hips buck involuntarily.
"Please, Aaron, please! I'll be a good girl for you, I promise! I just need you!" A tear slips down your cheek and you look down at him again. He squeezes your thigh with his strong hand that is unoccupied. "More. Tell me exactly what you want me to do to you." His eyes darken and he suppresses his urge to bite the inside of your thigh.
Your toes curl and your chest shakes with a small sob. A real sob.
"Aaron, I want you to do whatever you want to do to me! I want you to eat me out, I want you to finger me, I want you to use me, I want you to fuck me until I can only say your name, but then fuck me harder so I can't even say that. I want to be a wordless mess for you. Please just touch me!" That breaks Aaron and he bites down on the inside of your thigh, no longer controlling that urge from moments ago. He tosses the vibrator aside after turning it off and he pulls his shirt over his head, throwing that somewhere as well. He buries his face in your sopping wet pussy and laps at you with his warm, wet tongue.
Moans immediately begin to fall from your lips and your thighs tighten around his head. He's groaning into you and those vibrations, though not nearly as strong as your toy, feel infinitely better. It doesn't take long for him to pull your third orgasm out of you by sucking and licking your sensitive clit.
"Aaron! Mmmmm. Thank you, Aaron! Thank you!" Your eyes are closed and your head is thrown back. All you can think of is his face between your thighs and the blinding pleasure he's giving you.
Aaron doesn't even give you time to recover from your release before plunging two of his thick fingers into your cunt and thrusting them hard and fast. He keeps his tongue on your sensitive bundle of nerves and works hard to bring you to the edge again. You're writhing around and your hips buck involuntarily against his face from the slight overstimulation you're feeling that causes you to whine and squirm.
You can feel your next orgasm building fast and Aaron can too. He angles his fingers just right and before you know it, you're a moaning mess once again for him as you release spurts of wetness that Aaron laps at immediately. He hasn't even fucked you senseless yet, still hard in his slacks after getting home from work and calling you to come over, but you already can't conjure a single thought as you twitch and spasm.
You only live a few houses away from him and he sometimes wonders if you get loud enough to let everyone know how good he's taking you. He just hopes your parents never walk by his house when you're screaming his name at the top of your lungs.
Aaron's tongue darts between your folds and back to your clit a few times before giving your nub one last harsh suck and then he pulls his face from between your soaked thighs. When you finally manage to open your eyes again, you see him removing those slacks that must be incredibly uncomfortable at this point and you see how wet his face has become from your juices.
"Mm... Aaron..." You mumble and weakly reach a hand out in his direction. "I'm here, princess. Just let me make you feel good. Since that's what you begged me for, isn't it, sweetheart? You can take more, isn't that right, needy girl?" He rests his now naked body against yours and his voice is slightly condescending, but there's still a genuine tone underneath with the second question. You let out another whine and you nod your head dumbly.
He chuckles darkly again and presses his hips against yours. "Have I already fucked you dumb, princess? I've only had my fingers in you and you can't even speak." He grinds his hips against yours and keeps looking down at you beneath him. His cock rubs against your folds and your clit which causes your hips to jolt from the sensitivity.
Aaron smirks and he reaches down to grip his throbbing length in his large hand. He guides his tip through your folds now. "You're so pretty like this. All dumb for me. You're so sensitive now, but you still want more, don't you?" You nod dumbly one more time and whimper. "Normally I would make you use your words but you can't even form them, can you?" You shake your head this time and he chuckles before pushing his entire length into you.
He fills you completely and stretches you deliciously. It causes you to moan right into his ear as he groans into yours. Your fingers claw at his back and he's sure there will be scratches all over his skin soon enough. He loves being able to admire them in the mirror, remembering how he took you so nicely to cause you to mark him up like that.
He's buried deep inside of you now, but he hasn't started moving. It's not because he's letting you adjust, it's because he wants to tease you some more by not immediately setting his pace and taking you hard and fast. Which you don't realise until you have been waiting for a minute or two for him to begin thrusting , only for him to not do so. You whine and try to move your hips to signal that you want him to move. He grips one to keep you still.
"You know, I think I want you to beg me just a little more. I know you've lost your words, but why don't you try to find them to ask for what you want just one more time, princess. Hm?" You throw your head back into his pillow with whimper and a pout that makes Aaron smirk again. "Come on, just use your words one last time..." He's decided to make you find the words you don't have after originally making you think you wouldn't need to. He's sexually frustrating but he's also like a god in bed so you don't want to complain, not that you really could anyway. So instead you just squirm and whine again which causes him to grab your jaw to force you to look at him. "Don't be a brat and do what I said, princess." He's so mean sometimes.
You go through your mind in search of the few words you need and after a moment, you're finally able to find them. "Fuck me, Aaron!" You cry out like you had earlier and with that he begins slamming his hips into yours, pounding his entire cock into you over and over again relentlessly.
Your back arches and he takes the opportunity to wrap his arms around you in that moment, making sure to keep your body pressed close to his. All you can do is gasp and moan as he completely ruins your pussy. The only sounds in the room are skin slapping and whatever vocal noises you and Aaron are making, along with Aaron speaking occasionally.
"Is this what you wanted, sweet girl?" Aaron practically growls into your ear and you try your best to nod your head, but it's hard because of the force he's using to pound into you. He's practically moving you up the bed with each thrust.
It's becoming hard to keep your eyes open and all you can do is just lie there and let him ensure you won't be walking for the next few days, which means you'll be staying with him even longer as you wouldn't dare to go back home and be asked why you're limping. He continues to stretch you and pound into you, somehow making you feel like he's getting deeper and deeper each time. He brings one hand up to hold the back of your head in order to make sure you won't hit your head on the bedframe.
Aaron's other hand travels down to your core to rub your clit and you tremble beneath him. "One more. Be a good girl and cum for me one more time, princess." He whispers into your ear and you feel your next orgasm rapidly approaching. It doesn't take much longer for your thighs to start shaking and for your back to arch your chest up into his. Your mind is fuzzy and you can't think. Your entire body is taken over with the pleasure he brings you.
This also pushes Aaron over the edge and you feel his previously calculated thrusts become sloppy as he loses his rhythm. He groans loudly into your ear and moans your name as he cums inside of you. You feel the warmth spreading through your cunt and you flutter around him with one more orgasm that makes his own last a little longer.
You both stay like this for a good while, attempting to catch your breath as you come down from your highs. Aaron's arms instinctively move around you again to keep you close and you try to do the same to him, but your arms are practically useless, as is the rest of your body at the moment. You'd love to play with his hair, but you can't feel your limbs or make them move.
Aaron peppers soft kisses to your neck and jaw before moving to your cheeks, forehead, and then finally landing one on your lips. His breathing has slowed quite a bit now, but he is still hazy from his intense release. Even then, he still has this want and need to make sure you're okay and to show you his love and affection.
"You're perfect, sweetheart." He mumbles into your neck before pulling back slightly to look into your eyes. "How are you feeling?" His voice is rough, but soft and low at the same time. He moves one hand to gently rub at your scalp as he waits for you to respond. "I feel good...just limp." You mumble back and he can't help the small chuckle that escapes him. He smiles down at you and kisses your temple. "Don't worry. I'll take care of you." He promises you.
He keeps his promise and cleans you up after pulling out, his release leaking from you when he does, and he showers you with all of his affection in the ways he always does. He gets you some cold water and something to snack on. He puts something on for you to watch together and he snuggles you constantly unless you need him to get you something because you physically can't walk right now and won't be able to for at least a day or two.
He rubs your arms, back, shoulders, and neck to help you stay relaxed and he gives you small pecks on your lips and all over your face. He loves you and he wants to keep you protected in his arms. He wants to hold you and treat you the way you deserve to be treated. Yes, he loves to be rough with you and degrade you in bed; maybe being a little mean on occasion, but that's for your benefit and his and it's just a game for pleasure. Outside of those times, he just wants you to feel peace, comfort, safety, and love when being with him. Which you do. You always do and you're certain it will never change.
hi honey!! im absolutely feral for dbf hotch so sorry in advance lol 😵💫
anyways imagine relaxing with him outside by the pool, and you go to bother him. he's sitting on a lawn chair all spread out, smoking a cigarette and as you come up to sit on his lap he blows the smoke in your face. as you're trying to wave the smoke away you frown and ask him if you could try a puff. ofc he says no but eventually he relents. you're against his chest and he lifts your chin and taps your cheek saying "open" and slides the cigarette in. he guides you, and tells you to inhale and hold it, before exhaling. 😮💨😩
A Day Off, a Hot Man, and a Cigarette
Warnings: dbf!hotch, cigarettes/smoking, age gap (both adults), pet names (honey and sweetheart), Aaron being a sexy slut all spread out like that mm mm MM😵💫😮💨, please let me know if I missed anything!
Word count: 925
Pairing: dbf!hotch x gn!reader
A/n: Oh yes yes yes yes 😵💫😮💨. Hotch smoking is just 😮💨 an idea I love to think about. He's the type of man that just looks so hot like that.
Aaron is outside by the pool enjoying his day off. It's finally a nice day out after the near constant rain of the last week and he's spending it at your father's house, which you are incredibly happy about. It's just you and him right now and even though you know he's there for relaxation, you can't help bothering him, not that he minds it at all. He actually likes being bothered by you; by other people...maybe not so much.
He's smoking a cigarette and he looks damn good doing it. The way his chest rises when he breathes in and the way he looks when the smoke leaves his lips has you staring at him. It's almost like you're seeing it in slow motion.
You step outside and walk over to him. He looks so hot like this. His hair is slightly messy and he's spread out comfortably. You sit yourself down on his lap and one of his hands finds its home on your waist. He gives you a small smile which you return with a brighter one.
"Are you enjoying your day off?" You ask him and he subconsciously rubs your side as he looks at you. He nods and takes another drag of his cigarette before blowing the smoke out to answer you. It gets in your face and you try to wave it away. "It's been great. Especially when I get to look at you all day." He winks and smirks at you a little. You're still frowning at the smoke he blew in your face and your eyes follow the hand holding the cigarette.
You barely acknowledge his answer before asking him another question. "Can I try it?" You glance at him and his eyebrows are raised now before going slightly furrowed. You've never asked to try it before. "No, honey. I don't think you should." You pout at his words, frowning deeper now. "Why not? You're doing it." "Because I said so. I don't want you starting a bad habit, sweetheart." You huff and lean forward against his chest, your head resting on his shoulder. You understand his point, but you don't have to like it.
Aaron takes one more drag and thinks about your question some more now that you're pouting and huffing at his reluctance to let you try it out. "Please?" You murmur. He goes back and forth on it for a bit and he finally decides to let you. He breaks.
"Fine. You can try." He says with a small hint of a stern tone, but it is mostly soft. You perk up slightly, not expecting him to change his mind.
"Open." Aaron says after gently lifting your head and tapping your cheek. You're surprised because he'd been so reluctant just moments ago. You do as he says, like you always do, and you part your lips for him. "Good." He speaks quietly and slides the cigarette between your lips. "Close and inhale slowly." He directs you and you follow his instructions. You inhale the smoke, the taste of it is horrible and the feeling in your lungs and throat makes you cough.
Aaron rubs your back and shushes you. "Shh. It's okay, try again. Maybe inhale a little less." His voice is gentle. Your eyes sting with a couple of tears and you blink them away. Your throat burns a tiny bit, but you do it again anyway. You take his suggestion and you don't breathe in as much smoke this time. "Good job; now hold it in." He keeps his hands on you, making sure you're steady and keeping you close after removing the cigarette from your mouth. You keep your eyes on his and wait for him to tell you what to do next. "Hold it a little longer..." His hand moves to your cheek and his thumb rubs the soft skin there, the cigarette between two of his fingers.
"Now exhale." And you do so with a slight cough, but it's not nearly as bad as before. The smoke goes into his face and he doesn't bother waving it away like you had done before. He smiles at you and it nearly takes on the shape of a grin. "There you go. You did very well, sweetheart. But I don't want you doing this all the time, understand?" He praises you and then sets a stern rule for you. He knows he can't really control it if you do start up a habit of doing this, but he knows you like to listen to him. You nod your head. "I know I know. I won't. But...I will say, you look really good like this, Aaron. You look hot. You always do, but there's something about you like this...I can't explain it." He chuckles a little and squeezes your side affectionately. He thanks you shyly. It's not often that he doesn't know what to say to someone, but you seem to bring that side out in him more than he thought was possible.
He finishes off the cigarette, which you can't help but watch him do so, and puts it out before pulling you against his chest again. He wasn't expecting this to be something you liked about him, but he's glad he knows now. He's always finding out about these little things he does that you like and find attractive in him, things he would never think someone could find sexy. You're always surprising him and he is always looking forward to those surprises.
Warnings: Smut themes but no real smut, mentions of Aaron masturbating but not described, age gap (both consenting adults), dbf!hotch, corruption kink/innocence kink, reader wears a short skirt? figured I would include it in case, making out, Aaron has dirty thoughts about reader. I think that is everything but let me know if I missed any!
Word count: 1.3k
Pairing: dbf!hotch x fem!reader
A/n: Yes please 🤭. I was originally going to make this a thoughts post, then it was a blurb, and now it is a fic. Oh well 🤷. Enjoy <3.
Tags for this specific post: @anninhaaagomes16 @bernelflo @ssamorganhotchner @kiwriteswords @actualdeemon @ebonynextdoor @amaranthines @queenofvelaris @bringmeanangel @rhineztonepearlz @child-of-the-amis @mrs-ssa-hotch
Let me know if you want to be added to my tags 🫶
*NSFW MDNI*
He has always noticed how innocent you seem to be. The way you dress leaves a lot to the imagination and that's where he starts. He gifts you something for Christmas. It's a skirt, but god is it short. He gives it to you privately, pretending he forgot about it until then. You had walked him out to his car and now he's giving it to you.
"Oh, here. I forgot about this one. Open it." He hands it to you and you look excited to see what else your secret crush and father's best friend has given you.
You're shocked when you open it because it's not what you had expected to find. It's...going to be revealing. That's for sure.
"I just thought it would look nice on you, princess." He winks when he says it. His voice, the words, the wink...all make you want to wear it for him. Even though it's far from your usual attire.
You wore it to his place once so that you could show him how cute it was on you and how much you ended up liking it. You had thanked him for it again and he warned you about where you wear it out to, like wearing it out to bars. He told you that you should be prepared to be hit on quite a few times if you ever decided to wear it to a place like that. You took that advice and filed it away. He wasn't sure if you realised just how good you look in it because you seemed a little naive and diffident about what he said. He had called you beautiful and you waved him off and shook your head a little, a 'thank you' leaving you again but it wasn't real like the one from before.
The next time is a movie night. Your parents have gone to bed, telling you both to finish the movie and then fill them in on how it ends another time. Aaron takes the opportunity to move closer and sit right beside you. His hand finds its home on your clothed thigh. You're still dressing fairly modest most of the time, though that skirt did make you expand your wardrobe a little more.
"Hi princess. You like the movie so far?" His hand kneads your flesh, and your cheeks start to feel warm. He smiles at you, bringing the same hand up to brush the back of his finger over your cheek before rubbing his thumb over your lips.
"Y-yeah. Mhm. I am. It's...it's good." You stumble over your words a little bit, holding eye contact with Aaron. He tries not to, but he lets his thumb slide between your lips just barely. He wants you. Badly. But he holds back. He knows how innocent you are. He knows you don't really have any experience. You told him how you had never kissed anyone before and how bummed you were. You felt so far behind. He would love to help you out though.
"Princess? Have you still been waiting for your first kiss?" He asks, staring at your lips as he removes his thumb. Your eyes are slightly wide. You look so perfect. A little dazed and confused and shocked. You nearly had his finger in your mouth. You are already feeling foggy.
"W-what did you say? I'm sorry, my brain is...it's...not working."
The smirk that comes over his face when you admit that you can't even think now. He loves it. He loves how just the smallest thing can make your mind go blank. You really are starved from so much. So much that he could give you. So much that he craves to give you.
"It's okay, princess. I asked if you're still waiting to have your first kiss. Are you?"
You nod a little dumbly. You can't stop glancing between his eyes and his lips. He notices it like he notices everything else. He knows what you're thinking right now. You want him to kiss you. You've wanted that for a really really long time actually. He cups the side of your face with his hand.
"Do you want me to help you, sweetheart? I have thought about it a lot and I am sure you have too. I would love to...teach you." Corrupt you is more like it. And corrupt you is exactly what he does.
He does kiss you, once you tell him that he can, and it immediately feels like there are fireworks going off in your head and beneath your burning skin. The second his lips are on yours you both know that you will never want another person to be the one kissing you.
It's soft and tentative at first. He's testing it out just like you are. He knows what he's doing, he's done it plenty of times, but he's also trying to let you explore at your own pace. He wants to make sure you feel like you can back out if you change your mind at first which is part of why he is holding back a lot right now.
You hand eventually comes up to his cheek just like how he has been holding yours. He takes that as his sign to deepen it a little bit and he kisses you just slightly harder and you return it with more certainty in your own movements. Aaron lets his tongue slip into your mouth and it presses into yours, causing a small squeak to escape your throat.
He chuckles a little bit and his hand moves to the back of your head to keep you there, right where he wants you. Moments later he can hear and feel you moaning against his mouth and his other hand squeezes your thigh before coming up to hold the side of your head, thumb absentmindedly rubbing against your temple once his hand finds its place.
He eventually pulls away to let you catch your breath. You're panting and squirming a little, he knows that you are feeling the heat grow between your thighs and he smirks slightly at the sight of you. Lips puffy and red, pupils dilated, lids heavy, and body shifting in an attempt to ease the aching feeling that he wishes he could satisfy for you right now.
"How was that for a first kiss, sweetheart? Did it meet your expectations?"
"Y-yes, it did. It... passed my expectations actually. It was even better than I had ever imagined. Thank you, Aaron." You swallow hard and you keep trying to steady yourself. He'll have to teach you to breathe through your nose at some point, and not just for kissing.
He likes knowing that you've imagined it, because he knows that you've thought about kissing him at some point. He likes that once he finally kissed you, no matter who you have dreamed of kissing, he is the one that really did it and he is the one that passed your expectations of what a good first kiss would be.
"You don't need to thank me, princess. It was my pleasure to be your first kiss." It would be his pleasure to be your first for a lot of other things too, but those can wait. For now, he is content with just having you wrapped tightly around his finger.
He is already planning out how to corrupt you further. How he'll teach you to suck on him but first start out with having you suck on his fingers before letting you advance to his cock that he has stroked to the thought of your innocent self so many times. How he'll teach you to touch yourself to the thought of him, an older man and family friend that wants to defile you in so many ways you could never even imagine. And how he'll take you for the first time, completely corrupting you in the process and making it impossible for you to ever want another person because you'll be his and you'll crave him in the same nasty ways that he already wants you.
