asking hotch to do push ups and say your name in between (ifykyk)
a designated day off is a rare occurence - a date circled in red ink and bedazzled by giddy stars on the calendar that hangs by off the side of the refrigerator is a day to be celebrated. but it hasn't been, yet, as you tuck your feet further underneath your bottom, pallid features still waking up at this early hour as you cradle a cooling mug of coffee between chilled palms.
the waffle mix box still rests, unopened, on the kitchen counter, an adjacent bowl too close to the edge. aaron sludges into the living room, footsteps heavy and dark fringe awry from its typical professional position. "g'morning, sweetheart," his voice is still sodden with fatigue, vocal cords grating against one another in that deep baritone when he deeps in to smooth his lips over your cheekbone. "i know i've got the day off, but i still have to train for this triathlon thing," he preens when he runs his hands over his face. "fuck."
your toes curl in their warm socks underneath your bum, and you run a tongue over your lips. "just a quick workout couldn't hurt," you offer, motioning mindlessly to the coffee table. "could move this thing out of the way and bring up your weights. wouldn't mind breakfast 'n a show."
hotch's eyes, still foggy with sleep, narrow in exaggerated accusation, hands settling sassily on his hips. "you'd like that, wouldn't you? and you'd have to get started on breakfast first, honey, don't think you can call coffee a meal."
his jab at your frequent java substitution for a proper breakfast earns a kick at his shin when you untangle your leg out from under you. "okay, then get going then, mr. muscle man. let's see if you can own up to your end of the deal."
he retaliates with an eye roll, feigned perturbance rolling off his shoulders in heaping waves when he drops, albeit slowly, to the ground. "alright, alright."
"say my name when you do them." your words are nearly muffled by the next mouthful of hot coffee, but aaron catches them.
"yeah?" he grunts when he sinks into a pushup, elbows cracking with the sudden strain at this hour. "why's that?"
you shift again. "just do it."
aaron obliges, and you make no effort to hold up your end of the agreement, licking over your lips as your name slips from his own. the wimpery wisp of each grunt, each huff from tired lungs, and arousal is amalgamating in your navel, oozing and churning in its fiery path. "oh jesus," he realizes, head falling as soreness bleeds into his biceps. "i can't believe i fell for that."
"keep going," you breathe, unable to cloak the frog in your throat. your muscles seize up when he does it one last time, chest tightening when you go to place your mug back on the nearby table.
when your fingers fly to the belt of your robe, aaron's already jumping up from the floor, already forgetting the pain that bites at his muscles. "alright, on your belly," he grunts, hand shoving down his sweats.
Ok but like softdom spencer reid with a hard dom aaron hotchner with a brat reader. But like they're a princess with reid but an absolute dick to hotch. And hotch is just watching her cuddle reid and kissing on him and just says what did I do to deserve the exact opposite of what you get reid?? And the reader just huffs and bareys their face into reids neck??? 🫠 so cute!!
a red and bruised bottom is enough demonstration for your previous night with aaron, and spencer is all open arms and sweet kisses when you come crawling into them when he returns the following morning. "where were you?" is your first inquiry when you smear wet kisses along his jawline, settling yourself carefully onto his lap while the hem of the other man's t-shirt hangs slips up to reveal such proof.
spencer notices right away, but opts to not say anything, rather, smoothing a thumb over the afflicted flesh and soaking in the affection you're smothering him in. "just crashed at garcia's. we had a bit too much to drink and i'm sure i had a blood alcohol content of-"
"doesn't matter, i'm glad you were safe." aaron hums, sauntering in from the bathroom, towel still drying off the water that clings to his calloused palms. "good to see she's behaving."
spencer smiles, curling a hand around the hair at the back of your neck and scratching there. "why, was she bad?" you shlump, fatigued, into his shoulder, smiling bashfully.
"don't be fooled, spence." he tosses the towel back into the bathroom. "little brat always behaves when she's with you, doesn't she? always a sweet thing, but the second you're gone, she suddenly doesn't remember a single thing about behaving. isn't that right?" his head cocks to the side and your cheeks swarm with heat. you cuddle in closer, eyes crinkling and cheeks dimpling. "no.."
spencer hums, kissing softly at the crown of your skull. "we've got a little liar on our hands now too, huh?" he presses a thumb into a bruise, and you squeal. "i think i see what you mean."
Omggggg okok moms on a business trip and wont be home for a few days, one night you guys decide to have a movie night with just the two of you. You just start moving closer and closer to him in the couch, you slowly drag your hand up his thigh and he doesn't stop you, just pretends like he's paying attention to the movie. You eventually get to his bulge and start palming his throat his sweat pants and he just sits there and groans while bucking his hips -OOO SOMETHING I JUST THOUGHT OF WHILE TYPING- one of those nights at like past midnight you open the door to their bedroom to see just him laying on the bed, he hears you walk in and your just like "I had a nightmare 🥺" so he lets you climb into bed with him and he eventually moves to spoon you only for you to feel his hard on pressed against your ass🤭🤭
okie okie i took the second one and changed it a tidbit ;)
aaron hotchner knows a lie when he hears one, and is ordinarily prone to calling the individual out for that behavior. however, with the vacant space beside him on the bed, and the saddened (although feigned) trill of your voice, aaron betrays his moral compass. "you had a nightmare?"
you nod, and he can barely catch the outline with the outline of your slumped body against the doorframe, the only light source being the old lamp in the hallway behind you. your legs are bare - that's another thing that he catches - and they squeeze together. you'd later blame it on the chill of the air conditioning, but it's turned off tonight, and the man is fully aware of this. "yeah, i um.." you scratch awkwardly at the nape of your neck.
"c'mon," he offers, freeing you of the unease of having to elaborate your fib, and pulls back the duvet. "c'mere, i've got some space."
when you crawl in, aaron seizes in his spot, frozen by the velvety finish of your skin, when, unabashedly, you pull yourself in close, tucking yourself against his chest. "you alright?" he swallows thickly, and his breath is hot against your ear.
he uses the throw of the blankets back over you as a metaphorical guise to the thoughts that run rampage in his head, especially with the subtle aroma of strawberries that still linger from your shampoo. it overwhelms his senses, and he throws an arm over your side, drawing you back in closer.
you can feel the chub of his cock against your bottom the second contact is made, and you hide your smile in his bicep. "yeah." you breathe, trailing your fingers over his forearm in feather-light brushes. "can i sleep here tonight?"
he nods against your hair, which he draws back to print a small, but fiery-hot kiss behind your ear. "course you can, hunny."
you turn your head over your shoulder, and he's much closer than you anticipated, because your lips brush. the taste of them is not foreign, but you feel like a giddy school girl all over again, arousal flooding between your legs when his dick stiffens. "protect me, won't you, aaron?"
he nods, tossing every ounce of his rationality out the window. he leans in closer so that the next words spoken are done so against your parted lips, allowing you to lap them up and savor them. he reaches down, prying your legs open so he can dip a hand between them and confirm the mirrored arousal. "always, sweetheart. i've got you."
No wait more of Hotch babying reader bc he’s just so daddy and can’t help himself
aaron hotchner is bossy, and he's curt, but aaron hotchner is pretty. a communications degree is tucked neatly under your belt, all folded up and shining bright, but no words can properly describe the hearts that parade over your blown-out irises every time he stalks by, shoulder blades pinched tight under his clean-pressed suit. jj's bump up to field agent allowed you to slot right into the team; a new grad hot off the press and eager to please your father's best friend.
hotch glides by your desk, eyeing the mountain of case files you have yet to sift through and select, freshly-painted fingernails too busy flipping through a different stack. "you have quite the work to do, don't you?"
his voice is gruff, thickened with the black cup of coffee he just guzzled down, and he glances up through his thick brows, muscling back a smile. "there are a lot of people that need our attention, agent. i'm sure enough of them are just vying for the aaron hotchner's attention though. can't say i blame them."
aaron's too aware of the fabric of his boxers when they grow increasingly tighter around his thick, toned thighs, and he hides the chub in his pants behind the guise of your desk divider. "well.." he licks over his bottom lip. ".. it's important that you make the right decision," his professionalism is flying out the window like a baby bird taking flight, and he's grappling for any semblance of his typical stolid nature.
"well i'm trying, but this stuff is hard!" you huff, slouching in your seat, flipping apathetically through some more paperwork. "i want to help everyone.. but.. decisions, decisions.."
anyone else and hotch would scowl; ready to hound his insubordinate with reminders of their position and how imperative it is to remember such. there's no time for complaining - and yet here you are, mouth set in a pout and eyes begging for a break that's unneeded.
he scratches at his scruff, jaw pebbled with a shadow of a beard he needs to shave, and uses his free hand to adjust the aching dick that begs for an appearance. "well.." he starts again, and your lips quirk up with the echo. "better get started then."
he claps a hand on your shoulder as he stalks by, and your fingers grace over his knuckles before it retreats, tickling at the weathered surface while your head tilts back to reveal the full simper, eyes sparkling with delight. "my place tonight?" you mouth, and he barely makes out the movement of your lips from the upside down position.
he rolls a tongue over his teeth and nods firmly. "see you at seven."
thinking about how if you sassed hotch at work, he’d call you up to his bau office and snap the blinds shut and bend you over the desk and spank you for it before sending you back to your desk
you thought you had gotten away with it - your snippy remark about the metaphorical stick shoved up his ass when it came to completing paperwork on time - when all he had given you was a stern look and had stalked off. so when the door to his office swings open and he takes a few steps out to properly look at the bullpen, you're not so tepid when your name echoes throughout the semi-silent room. "y/n." he nearly clears his throat, but instead licks over his lips, hands settled sassily on his hips. "i need to see you in my office."
derek, to your right, settles back into his swirly chair, garcia's stolen glitter pen twirling between his fingers. "what'd you do this time, mama? anything good and juicy?" his eyes squint into feigned accusatory slits, his seriousness betrayed by a paired goofy smile. "anything we should be worried about?"
you scoff, pushing off from your chair with a roll of your eyes, straightening out the pencil skirt that's been riding up your thighs all evening. "the only thing you should be worried about is that growing pile of paperwork, sweetheart," you trill, motioning to the thick stack of papers dropped messily atop his desk's surface. "hotch might need a special meeting with you too."
aaron's scowl doesn't fade when you enter his office, and it still lingers when the door clicks shut. "where do you get off?" his deep tenor is dripping with authority, despite the near whisper that he's speaking in. "do you not understand how important it is to maintain our professional relationship?"
your hands fly behind your back, fingers twisting nervously at each other until audible clicks are heard. "i mean i was right, there's no need to-"
"over the desk, agent." he uncrosses his arms to motion to the edge of his neatly-arranged desk, expression still set into a disgruntled one. "and quickly, i have work to do."
with a defeated huff, you comply, fingers pulling up the starchy, pressed material of your skirt to pull it up and over your hips, showing the flimsy lace of his favorite red thong, which barely obscures the arousal that's pooled from your dripping cunt.
he's docile only in drawing a thumb over the wet patch, the whisper of a touch causing you to twitch with anxious anticipation. there's no warning when a firm hand comes down to swat angrily at your bottom. you jolt forward, curling your fingers around the opposite edge of the wooden desk to anchor yourself in both space and time. "jesus, i-"
and he's repeating the action with an increase of power this time, your hips already spotting with bruises with the forceful impact against the desk. when he's finished, heavy tears are already weighing at your lashline, which he's careful to wipe away with a gentle thump. he aids in pulling your skirt over your warm, beaten bottom, smearing a kiss against your cheekbone for good measure. "go get your work done," he commands, but offers you a small smile. "i'll take care of the bruises when we get home. just make sure your work gets done and we won't have another problem."
stepdad!hotch with THE PORN FROM OUR DMS BABE.. please i beg u - stepdad hotch with a reader who comes home after curfew and wriggles into bed beside him and straddles him like he's hers so he decides to make her his 🤭
your suppressed smile nearly peeks through your stoic facade when hotch's bedroom door creaks open when you step through it, the lingering aroma of the joint you previously smoked immediately announcing your arrival. with your mother's absence, it only made sense to exploit the freedom, even if it meant being met with your grouchy step-father. the floorboards groan with your added weight when you pad across the silent room, the sheets rustling when you peel them back. "aaron?"
it's a tentative whisper, the trepidation of his anger tainting the inquiry when you slide into the warm bed. your limbs clunk messily against hotch's heavy ones, your ankle hooking with his as you wriggle in closer. "are you awake?"
the dull glow that the moon provides from the open window is enough to reveal the disappointed frown that the man sports, and that's answer enough. "you did the one thing i asked you not to do." he chides immediately, but juxtaposes the authority with a docile thumb that graces over the swell of your cheekbone. "you're being reckless."
you weigh into the soothing embrace, lips parting when the finger pushes at your bottom lip to accept it into your warm mouth. aaron's cock pushes stiffly against the starchy material of his briefs when you suckle firmly at his thumb. you squirm in closer, rolling your tongue over the thumb slotted into your mouth, draping a leg over his hip to properly turn him onto your back.
he grunts with the effort when you weasel yourself into a comfortable position, backside pushing against the growing bulge in his briefs. "and you're late. you're an hour past curfew."
but you're beaming, taking his wrist in your two hands to anchor the appendage in its spot around your jaw, hips gyrating against the cock that's providing delicate friction against the lacy fabric of your newly-purchased panties. your beaming grin around his thumb is a retort in and of itself, but you speak to further prove your point. "i haven't been very good, have i?" you preen, dropping your hands down to the taut waistband of his briefs to toy with the elasticity of it.
the man swallows thickly, testing the waters by pushing the thumb further down your tongue until you nearly gag around the circumference of it. your fingers still momentarily, already tickling at the neatly trimmed curls at the base of his cock, serving as a pillowy cushion for the weighty girth. "punish me, won't you?"
hotch groans through clenched teeth, swiping a thumb over your pelvic bone with his free hand. "you would like that, wouldn't you?" he finally responds after a heavy minute. "everything you've done has led up to this point and you couldn't be more happy. i knew you'd cave, sweetheart. you always do. now take my cock out, darling, i know you know how."
baby i hope it's alright that i send in more than one ask because i have been COOKING these up in my brain but if you don't have time for all of them (or even just one of them) do NOT sweat it!!
anywaysss i'm thinking about stepdad hotch <3333 mmm i am always thinking about stepdad hotch!! i'm thinking of stepdad!hotch who offers you a job as his assistant 'cause you're out of work and you need to be paid to live, ofc, so you start going to work with him and he pays you so well and basically i just want to be his pretty little assistant and fuck around in the confines of his office while he's supposed to be doing paperwork 🤭
no please send me all of your ideas, they are ALWAYS welcome <3
in retrospect, hotch doesn't need an assistant. the concept of working himself to the brink until purple rings at his eyes, a five o'clock shadow starts to creep in, and his tie is too loose for the required business attire of the office is not new to him. however, the idea of accepting help, of having someone run across the street with warm cups of coffee to push into his hands, to have someone file the paperwork that typically sits in a slipshod pile atop his desk, is foreign to him.
but he enjoys it - much more than taboo guidelines would allow him to, watching as you flounce away, arms full of confidential paperwork, pink skirt drifting up from the middle of your thighs, heels accentuating the curves of your calves. it's no problem on his end, paying you as much as he does, always slipping the checks into your purse on the counter before he heads off to work on your days off.
he's corrected you on your attire once - when you came into the office after a night out, frilly skirt still snug around your hips, and a top that barely revealed your midriff. he had taken you into his office, closing the blinds, pulling up your skirt to reveal a skimpy thong, one that he had pulled to the side to drag his tongue over your puffy lips, reveling in the sweet slick that had collected there from the night prior.
but you've corrected yourself since, assuring the proper length to your dresses and skirts - sometimes opting for a nice pantsuit when aaron's not in the office and there's no requirement for easy access. but today, he's been cooped up in his office, head buried under piles of paperwork that you will eventually come to sort. the door has been closed for quite some time, hiding him away in the little cave that only he has access to.
however, the second the door handle turns, everyone is snapping their heads over to make find the noise, hotch making an appearance, hands tucked neatly in his pockets, suit jacket draped lazily over his desk chair in the background. the soft brown of his irises find yours, eyes narrowing with the dopey expression you blink back at him. "in my office, please." the baritone of his voice is heavy with fatigue in his command.
"oooohhh..." derek whistles from his chair, leaning back into the lumbar support, pencil twirling in his hands. "little princess is in trouble with dad, huh? shoulda known he wasn't gonna go easy on you, kiddo."
your eyes roll as if by their own accord as you push up from your desk, stalking up the steps to the man's office and shutting the door behind you. your breath quivers with the thud that ensues, pressing a smile onto your lips. "you need anything?"
he's standing behind his desk, fingers braced on the dips of his pelvis, expression firm and stoic. he licks over his lips for a moment, before he sits down, patting at his lap. "c'mere."
with tepid steps, you obey, crossing the threshold of his office and finding his thick thighs, straddling yourself properly so that the fabric of your skirt hikes up your own. he tuts, thumbing over the patterned fabric of your panties, thumbnail catching on the little bow that sits daintily atop it. "just wanted to make sure these were to your liking.."
he had previously sent a package to your apartment building, containing a slew of different garments that were much to expensive - especially with the sheer amount that was contained within the parcel. his thumb hooks around the the hem, drawing it down to reveal the thatch of pubic hair that hides your swollen mound. "red looks good on you, sweetheart." he purls, easing you off his lap and onto the desk that holds too many packets of paper.
your heart hammers in your chest as he draws the undergarment off from between your thighs, dropping it onto the carpeted ground beside him. sitting prettily inside your gummy walls is a vibrator, to which he now presses two fingers inside to retrieve. "ah, there are, princess." he coos, pulling it out and allowing your reprieve. "wanted to make sure you were following the rules, huh?" he pats once at your thigh, prompting you to rise from the desk and turn over so you're properly draped over it's harsh edge, belt clinking as you do so. "now you've got to stay quiet this time, hm? they're starting to catch on."
