when the heat gets too bad that you can’t even consider cuddling aaron to sleep—he has some thoughts about that or clingy!hotch
Hotch knew it was hot. He felt it in the way his clothes stuck to his skin with every step and how the air-conditioning and fan only seemed to dry the sweat on his skin, leaving him an uncomfortable sticky mess.
He also knew however, that despite all other circumstances, it was usually expected that when the both of you retired to bed; you did so in each other’s arms.
Which is why when he got under the covers and tried to wrap his arm around your waist, instead of being met with you snuggling further into his arms—he was met with you pushing him away from you.
“No.” you huff, budging further away from his outstretched arm.
Hotch stared at you in disbelief, “No?” he asked incredulously.
“Too hot.” You whine, tugging the sheets off next and throwing your leg over to your own side of the bed.
“It’s too hot to cuddle?” He scoffs distastefully, glaring at your bare legs as if they’ve personally offended him.
“Shh.” You mutter more to yourself, swatting your left arm back half-heartedly in annoyance.
“No!—no shh! You just pushed my hand away!” Aaron whispers harshly, and you know he’s pouting without even having to turn to look at him.
“Hotch, it’s hot—I’ll hug you tomorrow.” you’re honestly just saying it to appease him, if the temperature is anything like today’s—you’re not even willing to entertain the idea of Aaron’s furnace of a body holding you.
Imagining it right now is like your own personal form of torture.
“Oh, so I’m Hotch now too huh? Might as well just ask me to sleep in the guest room at this point.”
You turn over and Aaron perks up, thinking you’re about to surrender yourself to your rightful place in his arms.
Instead, you reach for the spare pillow between the two of you and chuck it at his head.
“Hey!” he yelps, grabbing the pillow and tugging it out of your hold and throwing it off the bed.
There’s silence for a few moments after the struggle and you begin to doze off, hoping that the sweet release of sleep will bring you refuge from this heat induced torture.
“We never sleep without you being in my arms” he huffs, dropping his arm finally and settling onto the bed.
He crosses his arms in annoyance, turning to look at you and scoffs again when he finds you peacefully resting with your eyes closed.
“Stop looking at me.” You mumble groggily, shuffling so you turn back to face him, your shirt rides up slightly and Aaron can’t help but fix his eyes on the sliver of skin being exposed on your back.
Your one eye peeks open and you snort when you see his wistful expression, “Baby—it’s one night.” You reason.
He snaps his gaze to yours, “Oh, so we’re back to baby then? What happened to ‘Hotch’ huh? Might as well just call me ‘Mr, Hotchner at this rate considering—”
“Oh my god you’re insufferable when you want to be.” You snap at him.
“Come and cuddle me and I’ll shut up.” He retorts back tauntingly.
You huff, sitting up in vehemence and glaring at him, “You’re an evil man.” You accuse, tugging off your shirt and leaving yourself in your bra and sleep shorts as you move closer to Aaron.
Aaron who smirks wickedly and before you can even think about moving back to your side of the bed, wrestles you into his arms despite your grumbles and complaints.
“Mmm, better.” He hums contently while you accept your fate of feeling your body practically stuck to Aarons by the sheer amount of moisture in the air and on your skin.
“This is awful.” You complain, your voice muffled into the cotton of Aaron’s sleep shirt.
“For you!” he agrees pleasant as ever, as if he’s not the one who put you in this position.
“I’m right where I wanna be.”
If Aaron wakes up in the middle of the night with a pillow in his arms instead of you and a subsequent pillow and duvet wall separating the two of you. That’s his own business.
At some point, you’ve gotta look out for number one.
pairing : aaron hotchner x fem!shy!bookstore owner!reader
summary : a soft, slow burning story about a shy, hopeless romantic bookstore owner (reader) and the serious, brooding FBI agent who keeps showing up, bringing comfort, storms and unexpected love.
warnings : angst, emotional vulnerability, panic/anxiety attack, fear of thunderstorms, mentions of trauma, slow burn romance, smut (for future parts), use of pet names (sweetheart), drinking alcohol (wine)
⌗ CHAPTER ONE ⋆ quite the job you’ve done on me sir!
⌗ CHAPTER TWO ⋆ the silver linings i’ll be there with you
⌗ CHAPTER THREE ⋆ long night with your hands up in my hair
⌗ CHAPTER FOUR ⋆ tether me to your ground, such a spectacle
⌗ CHAPTER FIVE ⋆ every bed is cold without your body in it
Aaron being clingy and needing to have a hand on you at all times 🥺. Kissing you so much, any part of you he can reach with his lips but mostly your head and neck where he nuzzles his face affectionately 🥹.
A/N: This one feels very personal, although I never had Aaron do this for me when it happened. If you see him, send him my way? 🥺
Btw, I'm still working on the final version of Vanilla Twilight.
Credit to @ssamorganhotchner for the original idea (I know it's been a while).
-> I didn't proofread this.
You stood in front of his door, and every few minutes, you raised your fist to knock but lost your resolve just when your knuckles were about to make contact with sturdy wood.
You sighed and let your head fall, clenching your jaw long enough to build up the courage to straighten your spine and try again.
But each time you debated knocking, you realized that you didn’t want to bother him with silly platitudes.
Feuds between members of a friend group were what you would consider boring stuff, and surely Aaron wouldn’t want to be reminded that you were immature enough to be affected by such trivial things.
However, he was all you had, and what you would give to see a friendly face right about now.
But what if your friends were right? What if Aaron pitied you?
And what if everything they said about you was true?
You could still see yourself so clearly at Judith’s place. It was as if you had had an out-of-body experience as you had picked up her phone at her request, but Judith had forgotten one very important detail when she asked you to help her out. You could still see yourself scrolling through a group chat, one you weren’t a part of, one which included every one of your so-called friends except you. You weren’t even snooping. They were just texting each other nasty things about you while you were in the room, and one of them had sent a message right as you had picked up Judith’s phone.
It called you “stupid”, but Judith never used a passcode to lock her phone, so really, who was stupid?
Your thumb had hovered over the notification, but the choice was simple. You needed to know whether it was happening again.
You had seen a chat full of messages about you, outlining every single flaw and quirk you didn’t like about yourself, discussed at length. They were mocking and vile, with the more recent messages talking about Aaron and your relationship with him.
You had mentioned in passing that you were seeing Aaron just last week, and you had shown them a picture, so incredibly proud to be a part of his life when he was everything you could have ever dreamed of. You were so chuffed to show them your man then, so delighted with your relationship that you felt compelled to share it with your friends, thinking they’d be happy for you.
But of course, that was until you saw these messages, each one more hurtful than the last.
You had thought they were your friends, but as usual, you had been kidding yourself into thinking people would ever want to be your friend.
It was always the same. You gaslighted yourself into thinking you were worth having friends, that you deserved company, that you deserved people to share things with.
But it was clear now.
Standing in front of Aaron’s door, unable and unwilling to knock, it was clear. Clearer than it had ever been.
You were the black sheep. The runt. The vermin.
People always managed to let you know just that, so why were you still ignoring them when they were being so loud?
Truth was, you didn’t know why you bothered to try and make friends when every last time you had tried, it had ended with you crying over people who would not bat an eye that they had hurt you.
Your “friends” were cruel, and they had been cruel for a while.
You always wondered what you did when this happened, you wondered what you ever did to deserve this again. You wondered what you did to drive them away, what kind of monster you had to be that was so despicable and ugly that they’d do this.
But maybe, just maybe, you had to stop wondering.
Maybe you were the problem.
Maybe you had been all along.
It was the only reasonable explanation, wasn’t it?
You were the common denominator, so you had to be the problem.
You faced Aaron’s door again, and you wanted to curl into a fetal position on his doorstep. Your legs were shaky at best, and you couldn’t figure out what you should do, but your legs wouldn’t carry you out of his building right now, even if you tried. Maybe you could sit for a few minutes before you left.
You knew it was probably the right thing to do. Leaving to spare yourself wouldn’t be the worst idea considering.
If your friends were right, if Aaron did pity you, how would you ever survive knowing that?
Tears were staining your cheeks at the thought, and as you tried to catch your breath, your sobs kept getting caught in your throat. You put a hand over your mouth and nose to keep quiet, trying not to gasp as you started to lack oxygen.
Choking to death wasn’t how you wanted to go, it took too long and your lungs were already burning. But maybe you didn’t deserve a quick or clean way out. Maybe this was how you should go. Maybe this was exactly what you deserved.
Yet, for all your trying, air inflated your lungs over and over again. It was fair. You couldn’t do this on Aaron’s doorstep.
What if in a few minutes, when your legs could carry you out of here, you just drove back to your place, and somewhere along the way, you wrapped your car around a telephone pole?
Would people even miss you?
If you drove into a ditch at full speed, would anyone even care?
You thought about proving everyone right. Every single person who had ever said something, well, perhaps they were correct. Maybe you were the piece of shit everyone said you were. It was the one thing everyone you had ever known had unanimously agreed on.
Just as you thought walking out of here was your best option, his concerned frown appeared at the back of your mind. Right as you were about to drown in your thoughts, right as you were about to succumb to them, there he was.
His gentle voice reminded you, “Rule number 2,” over and over again in your head.
You choked on a violent sob, wiping your eyes to clear your vision. The fog in your head was ever present, but you had promised. You had signed that contract.
With the last ounce of determination you had left, you raised your fist to knock on his door, and you forced yourself to go through with it.
Your knuckles rasped on his door, and less than a minute after, you were being pulled inside by two hands you had come to love.
Your slumped shoulders were enough to stop him from pouncing on you the way he often did when you came in at this hour, and you walked towards the huge windows in his living room, your chin trembling as you tried to keep your emotions under control.
The rain pelted relentlessly against the windows of his apartment, mirroring the storm brewing inside your head.
He joined you, a mask of concern and then sadness adorning his eyes. You were unable to maintain eye contact any longer, every word you’d ever known stuck in your throat as you realized he had probably noticed you had been crying, as you tried to blink back more tears.
You had been reduced to a tangled mess of emotions by people you once adored.
You flinched when he reached for you, immediately rubbing your nape to try and self-soothe. You wanted comfort, and you wanted him to provide it. But tonight, you had finally learned your lesson. You couldn’t rely on people, and you were done believing otherwise.
You were just here to honor the rules. You had to remember that.
You recoiled as a loud clap of thunder deafened you, your knees buckling right as his arms encircled and caught you.
Damn him for knowing how much this scared you.
You failed to swallow back a sob, his embrace too warm and comforting for you to hide.
You didn’t deserve him, or any of this.
Maybe he did pity you. But did you even deserve pity?
“I’m not going to pry it out of you. You tell me when you’re ready. But I’m here for you, sweetheart,” he gently whispered. “I just need to know you’re okay.”
Even though you weren’t okay, you couldn’t move away any more than you could stop breathing out of sheer will.
You wrapped your arms around him before your mind could convince you to make a run for it, burying your face into his chest and breathing him in, finding his scent as soothing as usual. You weren’t okay, but he always made things more bearable. Acceptable, even.
What if this was all a game to him? What if it was pity?
Did you even care?
Even if it was, you couldn’t let go. And truthfully, you didn’t care.
You would be glad it had happened at all once it was over, once he was done.
“I’m fine,” you lied.
He leaned back to look into your eyes then, and with his brow furrowed, he held your gaze. He waited a few seconds, his frown deepening as he seemed to gather you wouldn’t correct yourself.
“What is rule number 4?” he reprimanded.
Shit.
“Always tell the truth,” you mumbled.
“And you telling me you’re fine when you’re clearly not is a flagrant violation of one of our rules. Do you really want to break our rules, princess?” he said evenly.
You shook your head, averting your gaze. “No, Daddy.”
He lifted your chin with his fingers, his expression softening as your eyes met his. “Good girl.” He paused, cupping your cheek and wiping your tears away with his calloused thumb. “Now, do you want to tell me what’s wrong or do you need more time?”
You wanted to tell him. If nothing but to respect and honor the rules. But you needed to be able to form a coherent thought before you explained what had happened.
“May I shower first? I need to clear my head.”
Aaron didn’t seem to debate it, and now that you thought about it, you weren’t sure he had ever denied you anything. He planted a soft kiss on your forehead, his soft lips lingering on your skin.
“How about a warm bath instead?” he suggested.
A bath did sound nice.
“Yes. Thank you,” you sniffled.
He cradled your face, his other hand coming to rest on your other cheek, his touch more delicate than you’d ever felt it, and he offered you a small smile. “Oh, princess… It’s my privilege to take care of you.”
You chose not to dwell on what he meant, and you managed a small smile back.
Aaron brought you into his bathroom, opening the drawer where all your things were.
He took out your charcoal mask tube and a washcloth, picking you up to sit you down on the counter next to the sink.
You had learned not to ask questions when he decided to do things for you. You just willingly went along with whatever he wanted, blindly trusting him because you knew deep in your gut that he would take care of you.
He lathered some face soap he had gotten for you into his hands, applying it to your face gently. It smelled expensive, a combination of cashmere, aloe and sea salt appeasing your senses.
Aaron really had a knack for giving you space without giving you the impression that you were alone.
He started washing the soap away with the washcloth, and it centered you to feel cared for in this way. You shut your eyes, but Aaron instantly tutted.
“Color?” he queried.
“Green.”
The color system was effective for a variety of purposes, and it worked particularly well for setting boundaries in these kinds of relationships. And Aaron frequently asked. Whatever activity it was you two were engaging in, he always checked with you, which you saw as a sign of respect.
Pity or not, he respected you.
Once he was done cleaning your face, you felt a little reinvigorated. Even if your mind was still deafeningly overloaded, even if you were relentlessly questioning your self-worth, you breathed a little easier in his company. You always did.
Aaron motioned for you to let your head fall forward so he could tie your hair up, and you followed his lead. He regularly did this for you, and his touch was always gentle. You trusted him with your sensitive roots because he only tugged on your hair when you were in bed, and even then, he was careful not to hurt you.
Aaron rubbed the mask onto your face, applying it evenly on your skin. His fingers lingered along your jawline, his motions delicate as he applied the mask on your nose, forehead, and cheeks.
His touch carried a tenderness you’d never expected from him, and you didn’t want to wonder what this meant.
He was focused, and you knew he was probably doing a better job of applying it than you, after all, Aaron did everything with the utmost precision.
Once your face was coated in charcoal and Aaron was washing his hands, you thought about setting a timer on your phone for 30 minutes. It was the time it took for it to dry and let you peel it off without pain.
But as you got to your feet, Aaron put a timer for that exact duration on his phone.
Maybe he did care, somewhere deep down.
No one had ever bothered to learn your skincare routine before him. No one had ever bought you soap either.
He let the bath fill with hot water, pouring some of your favorite bubble bath into it, and right as you expected him to leave the bathroom, he moved towards you, towering over you. He held your waist before he toyed with the hem of your shirt, his eyes darting between yours as his thumbs stroked your skin.
“Color?” he breathed.
“Green,” you answered.
Aaron took your clothes off, his eyes never faltering from your face, and somehow, you felt more naked precisely because he wasn’t looking anywhere else.
He discarded his own clothes, fetching a clean washcloth before getting in the bath and signaling for you to join him.
You knew better than to argue or question his motives. You trusted him, and it was easy to follow him in and sit in front of him in the bath if it allowed you not to think for a little while.
He pulled you back, flush against his chest, his arms wrapping around your middle as a soft kiss landed on your shoulder. His lips traced the crook of your neck up to your cheek and down again, and if your body responded with goosebumps, neither of you commented on it.
He planted wet kisses on your shoulders, yet you knew there was no sexual intent behind them. Aaron was only trying to comfort you, and it showed.
He ran the washcloth across your shoulders, the warm water working its magic and cocooning you in its embrace. Aaron managed to anchor you in the storm that still raged inside your head, and you had to give it to him, the one within your heart had been quelled.
You could tell him.
If he was indeed pitying you, he wouldn’t be doing any of this.
Right?
You chose to sit in silence with him in the bath, letting him tenderly wash you, letting him peel the dry mask off right before he offered you the washcloth to dab at the rest.
He proffered a bottle of serum when you were done, and you hadn’t even noticed he had put it next to the bath.
Aaron knew your skincare routine, he knew which products you used and in what order you applied them.
This was not pity.
It was something else.
And whatever it was, it made you brave.
You finished applying the serum onto your face, and Aaron took the bottle back from you, putting it away.
You knew you were ready. You knew you could face him and do this.
You turned around, water sploshing a little as you faced him. He pushed a stray hair out of your face, placing it behind your ear, his fingertips grazing your cheek softly.
“I’m here for you, sweetheart. You know that, right?”
You nodded because in less than an hour, he had managed to help you better than you knew how to help yourself.
You breathed in and out, clasping your hands together before you straightened your spine.
“I found this group chat because Judith asked me to get her her phone,” you started.
Aaron instantly sighed. “I never liked them.”
He had never even met them and–
“You don’t even–” know them.
He cupped your cheek, his face serious and stern. “Doesn’t matter. You’re going to get me these girls’ phone numbers, okay?”
He did care. You didn’t know why you had doubted it.
You looked down, trying to pick at your nails. “I sent myself a few screenshots of the conversation. I couldn’t…”
Aaron stopped you from ruining your nails, his hands firmly enveloping yours.
“Where’s your phone?” he almost growled.
“But–” you stammered.
His hands tightened around yours, his teeth audibly gritting. “No. I need to know what they said so I can fix this.”
This?
Not fix you. But fix this?
“My back pocket–”
Aaron got out of the bath before you could even comprehend what was happening, and even if he was putting water everywhere, he didn’t seem to care.
Your phone looked infinitely too small in his large hands as he entered your passcode, his brow furrowing deeper the more he read the messages you had saved. The vein in his neck throbbed, his jaw was clenched and you could feel his anger filling the room.
You didn’t know why you had saved them when they so effortlessly swam around your head right now.
You could picture all of them perfectly as Aaron made his way through them.
Amelia: She’s so fucking stupid.
Lou: Fuck, she texted me. I hate talking to her. Save me, plz.
Amy: She texted me, too. Ugh.. So annoying.
Judith: Guys find us something to do because she wants to go out to brunch with us.
Lou: Who invited her to my place? This is sick, you guys. I’ll have to hire professional cleaners because of you.
Amy: Did you see what she was wearing today?
Judith: No one tell her when the graduation photos will be taken.
Amelia: Fuck. She texted me. HELP
Lou: Is she actually dating that guy? I don’t buy it.
Judith: That man is not real. She’s crazy. Ever noticed?
Amy: You guys, he’s fucking real. Saw them shopping together.
Lou: Wait, so she’s not lying?
Amelia: He’s just with her because she’s still tight.
Judith: Probably fucks her doggy style so he doesn’t have to see her face.
Lou: He deserves so much better.
Amy: It’s just pity. Clearly.
You wiped your eyes as the messages echoed around in your head. You watched Aaron seethe silently, and you chose to stare at the bathwater to focus on anything but his face if he did pity you after this.
You heard cracking glass before you heard him exhale loudly.
You looked up, your phone completely crushed into his left hand.
“Aaron?” you asked, your voice trembling.
He met your gaze, his eyes wet and troubled. “I’ll get you another one. I’m sorry.”
You saw his left hand bleeding onto the ground, and you swiftly got out of the bath, prying the broken phone out of his hands.
You knew where the first-aid kit was, and you brought him along where the cupboards were. He leaned backward on the counter as you got it out, his expression totally unreadable.
He winced when you reached for his hand, but he didn’t say a word as you cleaned the wound with antiseptic wipes. You were grateful that he wouldn’t need stitches. The cut was bleeding a lot but it was mostly superficial.
You applied some antibiotic ointment on the gash, and you bandaged him up. You held his hand gently, and you put it on top of your heart once the dressing was properly in place.
“I’m sorry,” you whispered.
Before you could think about how to apologize, he crashed his lips onto yours, enveloping your mouth into a searing kiss. He was angry, his breathing loud as his chest heaved against yours, but he chose to kiss you like he so often did, the way which made you stop wondering whether he truly liked you.
You kissed and held each other for a while, until you were both dry instead of dripping wet, and Aaron kissed your crown, sighing loudly.
“Nothing they said is true. Nothing. You know that, right?”
“Aaron–”
Aaron brought you towards his bedroom before you could talk about it some more, before you could process it further.
He started kissing you again, backing you up until you were horizontal in his bed. He hovered above you, his kisses hungry and passionate.
You felt his dick harden the more you kissed, and you tried to clench your legs together to relieve the throbbing that you started to feel as you thought about him silencing your thoughts the way only he knew how.
You felt wetness gather and pool in your cunt the more his tongue grazed yours, the more you felt his heavy erection rub against your thigh.
He stopped his motions, pinning your hands together above your head. “Now, princess, you broke a few rules today. We need to see to it that it doesn’t happen again.”
Right. Of course.
“I understand, Daddy.”
“But we’re not going to do that right now,” he clarified, his voice hoarse but gentle.
“We’re not?” you asked, confused.
You loved rules, and you loved your contract because you knew what to expect.
There were no surprises.
Well, almost no surprises.
“No. Tonight, it’s just you and me, and I’ll show you how wrong they were. You– You’re everything. You’re my… You’re perfect, angel. And I want you to know it for a fact. I want to show you. Will you let me?”
He let go of your hands, grasping one and bringing it towards the middle of his chest.
His hand was intertwined with yours, clasped on top of his thundering heart.
“But–” you stuttered.
“No buts. You broke a few rules. We’ll get to it later. Now– Now just let me show you. Please,” he pleaded.
You had never heard him sound so desperate. But you knew the implications of what he was asking.
Was he doing it because he wanted to? What about the contract and everything you had both agreed on months prior?
“We don’t–” do this.
We don’t do soft. We don’t do feelings.
He pressed his lips together, his expression softening. “Maybe we didn’t. But that’s going to change, sweet girl. I want you to feel like you can rely on me. And not just in bed. It breaks my heart that you didn’t… I’m not just your– I’m your boyfriend. I’m your person. Contract or not, I love you… I truly do. I want you to know– No– I need you to know how much you mean to me,” he explained, his voice laced with sincerity.
Wait. Love?
“Daddy…”
He cupped your cheek, resting some of his weight on top of you. “No, sweet girl. It’s “Aaron” right now.”
You had never called him “Aaron” in bed. How to address him during sex was one of the first rules.
“Aaron… I–”
He kissed you, effectively shutting you up. He kissed you until you panted, until the only thing you wanted was his mouth on yours.
Aaron stopped again, his lips planting kisses on your jaw before he gazed into your eyes again. “I don’t care about any stupid contract if you’re not the one signing it, sweetheart. I love this lifestyle because you’re in it, because we share it… But I love vanilla sex just as much, and I didn’t put it in the contract, but that’s what we’re going to do. In fact, we’re going to forget about this contract for a little while because you are more than what it says. You’re more than a piece of paper. And I’m so sorry if you ever thought you weren’t… You’re my baby. You’re my love. And now, we’re going to go slow and enjoy some tenderness because we love one another. Right?”
He looked insecure, almost as if he was terrified that you wouldn’t jump if he said “jump”.
You cradled his face with a soft smile, and the way he had just opened his heart to you made you love him even more.
“Aaron, I love you. I have for a while. I just don’t want you to be bored. I am terrified that you’ll–”
He chuckled, the sound startling you considering the circumstances. “I want all of you. And I want slow and sweet just as much as I want rough and dirty. We might need new rules after this, maybe even a new contract, or maybe we don’t need any of those things… but I would never be bored with you. Even if we never fucked again, I would never be bored with you. Never,” he insisted.
You ran your fingers through his hair, his eyes instantly fluttering shut.
“What do you want?”
He shook his head no. “Tonight, you get to decide, sweet girl.”
There was only one thing you wanted, and it was to see him as he breached you, to see his face as he fucked you, to see his features contort with pleasure as he buried his seed inside you.
“Missionary? We’ve never–”
He smiled fully, his dimples on display. “You got it. How shall we prep you?” he asked with a smirk.
You grabbed him before he could go down on you.
“No. Just– Please just take me. Let’s not… I need to feel you. I need you to stretch me. I want you to be the only thing I can feel and the only thing I can think about.”
He nodded, looking into your eyes and searching them for any sign of uncertainty.
He clearly didn’t find any.
He proffered his hand to you. “Spit.”
Whether you decided or not, Aaron remained in control. And you didn’t mind.
You did as you were told, spitting into his hand.
He immediately grabbed himself, wetting his dick with your spit before he gathered the slick at your entrance and coated himself with it.
“Look at me, sweet girl,” he croaked.
You obliged him, feeling him align his dick with your entrance.
“Good girl,” he drawled.
His praises always made you blush, and you felt your cheeks heat up within seconds.
The head of his cock slowly breached you, and Aaron grabbed your thigh firmly as he began to sink in, his fingers biting your skin and surely about to leave beautiful bruises in their wake.
He let you breathe through it, the burn painful but refreshing.
Once he was fully sheathed, you put your other leg around his waist, allowing him a bit deeper.
He grabbed the pillow next to your head and put it under your hips to help with the angle. His grip on your thigh was still firm, but he had managed to make it pleasurable. He always did.
“Color?” he grunted.
“Green.”
You arched your back, clenching around him voluntarily to show him how ready you were.
He hummed as you dragged your fingers over his back, and his breath hitched when you scratched him. “Tell me when to move.”
You reached for the drawer of the nightstand, grabbing the massage wand you often used together before you put it between your bodies, hopeful it would help with the stretch and discomfort of his girth.
It didn’t take long for it to feel good with the vibration, and Aaron bit his lips as if he was trying to refrain from moving.
“Move, Aaron,” you whimpered.
The more he moved in and out of you, the more the massage wand felt wonderful. The vibration was as delicious for him as it was for you, and you knew it because you were both moaning in sync.
“Faster, please.”
Aaron shook his head. “Oh, no, sweet girl. I am taking it slow.”
He upped the speed on the massage wand, his thrusts slow but deep, hitting your g-spot without fail.
His groans filled the room, echoing against your skin. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, biting your shoulder as he fucked you slowly.
You moaned, the mix of pleasure and pain absolutely magnificent.
You felt the coil in your stomach tighten, his pace faltering as his hips stilled, and when you felt his warm breath on your skin as he sank his teeth into your shoulder once more, you whined, unable to keep a lid on it any longer.
You bit his shoulder in return as your orgasm came over you in waves, pleasure rocking you to your core as you heard him whimper as he shot up inside you, the sound so small and delicate you weren’t sure you hadn’t imagined it.
He milked his orgasm into your pussy, slowly shoving his hips into you until you couldn’t feel him paint your inner walls anymore.
The massage wand became too much, but Aaron just allowed you to slow it instead of removing it.
“Not done yet,” he warned.
You were oversensitive, but Aaron knew your body better than you did most of the time. He was always keeping you on that fine line between pleasure and pain, but you trusted him as he grabbed it and kept it firmly in place.
“Color?” he asked, his voice raspy.
“Green,” you moaned.
“That’s my good girl,” he cooed.
He was still hard, his dick still throbbing inside you. Even if he was spent, it was clear he wasn’t stopping.
He kept at it, his thrusts sloppy and loud, the squelching sounds of your juices mixing together the only thing you could focus on.
Before you knew it, he was coaxing another slow orgasm out of you, your legs trembling violently as another wave of overwhelming pleasure had you screaming his name into the room.
You mewled when he didn’t pull out or remove the wand, his dick still nestled inside your pussy. You felt him throb as you squirmed and thrashed under him, as you whimpered his name and a string of expletives or pleads.
“One more,” he growled.
Aaron removed the massage wand, his right hand finding its way to your clit. You were pinned under him, the crinkling around his eyes as he smiled too endearing to care whether you could actually come another time.
He flicked your clit with his fingers adeptly, his touch making you purr as he hissed, the shudders overtaking your body when he didn’t relent.
You felt the coil in your stomach again, and this time, it ripped so violently that you closed your eyes, your body tense with pleasure as his fingers rubbed at your clit with more force.
“You’re soaking me. You’re doing so good.”
You moaned, unable to say anything. You felt tears prickle at your eyes, but your head was blissfully empty.
Aaron still didn’t relent, his fingers pinching your clit as you tried to breathe through the intense pleasure he was determined to provide you.
You were scratching his back thoroughly as he worked, and you vowed to care for his back later, at least before you allowed him to put a shirt back on.
His lips devoured your whines, his grunts reverberating around your mouth as he flicked and pinched your clit, his hips driving his seed deeper into you. His hard tip grazed your g-spot right as he rolled your clit between his thumb and index, and you felt an unexpected spurt of wetness pool out of you as your cunt fluttered around him, effectively drenching him.
You would feel self-conscious under normal circumstances, but to be fair, it was his fault, and your body was totally unresponsive as you gasped like a fish out of water.
You heard him groan and exhale right as you felt his dick twitch and shoot up inside you.
It was the first time he had managed this twice in such a short amount of time, and if you weren’t totally spent, you would have come again at the thought of him coming twice.
He let his weight fall on top of you entirely, and you stroked his back soothingly, knowing he was probably as sensitive and exhausted as you were as you felt his sweaty forehead in the crook of your neck.
“I love you, Aaron.”
He hummed contentedly as you kissed his temple, his hold on you tightening.
“I love you so much, sweetheart,” he muttered groggily.
He stayed put until he softened enough to pull out without hurting you, and he went to grab a wet flannel as he often did after sex.
You waited for him to come back, and truthfully, you had no other choice because you didn’t trust your legs to be functioning legs right now.
He got on his stomach between your legs, surely about to clean you up as usual when his fingers gathered his cum and yours, shoving it back inside you without warning.
“Fuck– Aaron–” you whimpered.
He purred, grinding his hips into the mattress. You knew he didn’t have another one in him, at least for now, but this had aroused him enough to try and relieve some pressure, and that was undoubtedly the hottest thing you had ever seen.
He dragged his fingers where you knew there were copious amounts of juices, and he slowly put the substances back inside you.
He smiled more widely the more you whined, your mixed pleasures finding their way back inside you, right where they belonged.
“Do you think if I put a baby in you, they’ll realize how much I love you?” he pondered.
Surely, you had not heard him correctly. You met his gaze, finding him serious yet affectionate.
You were so sensitive, and with everything that had happened, everything that had been said, everything just felt so right as he apparently suggested a future with him you had only dreamed of.
You were overwhelmed by his fingers, by what they meant, by what he was saying without actually saying it.
He arched his fingers inside you, and while it was too much, you clenched around his digits, wanting nothing more than to keep him close.
“Mmffhm—”
He pulled his fingers out and smirked, kissing your inner legs gently before he started wiping you clean, his touch tender as his lips lingered on your skin.
He kissed his way up, discarding the soiled flannel. “Rest, my sweet girl. I’ll get you some water.”
You nodded.
You couldn’t think or talk, let alone move.
He came back with a glass of water, and he waited for you to sit up and drink the entire glass before he joined you in bed again.
He sat in front of you, and you traced the purple bruise forming on his shoulder from when you bit him earlier.
He touched your cheek delicately, and you looked away.
“Are you shy, sweetheart?” he teased.
You nodded meekly.
Aaron grabbed your jaw, smiling at you. “Why though? Weren’t you the one who marked Daddy?” He smiled, tracing your lips with his thumb. “I belong to you just as much as you belong to me, sweetheart.”
You smiled. “You’re mine,” you declared semi-confidently.
You saw his dick twitch in interest, but he remained soft.
“Fuck, yes,” he hissed.
You knew he had liked that. As much as you liked hearing it from him, it was nice to voice it, too.
He told you to go pee so he could change the sheets, and you came back, finding him sitting with his bruised hand in his lap.
Aaron noticed you were back before you could comment on it, and he made you lie down, kissing your forehead before he got up. “Sleep. I’ll be right there.”
You would wait for him to come back before you would even consider falling asleep. You always did.
You heard him pick up his phone and dial as he exited the room.
“Garcia, I need you to do something for me, no questions asked,” you heard him say, albeit his voice was muffled through the walls.
A short pause, clearly waiting for her to answer him.
“I’ll give you a few names and numbers, you make sure these people don’t have a working cellphone for a few weeks. Have them blacklisted with mobile carriers for a little while. Just do your thing,” he added.
He proceeded to name your so-called friends one after the other.
“Thank you, Penelope.”
He hung up and entered the room again, immediately spooning you as he got into bed.
“Thank you,” you muttered, betraying the fact that you weren’t sleeping.
You turned around in his embrace, finding his gaze soft as he looked and held you.
“Never doubt how much I love you, angel.” He kissed your forehead, his smile evident as his lips lingered there. “Now… I thought you were completely worn out. We might have to go for another round to make sure you get a good night’s rest.”
Your eyes widened in surprise.
He didn’t mean that, did he?
He smiled, his eyes sparkling with affection and lust.
“Aaron… I can’t–”
He got on top of you, starting to kiss his way down your neck and expertly shutting you up. “I think you can, sweet girl,” he cooed, planting soft kisses on your jaw, on the column of your throat, next to your ears, and just about everywhere he knew you loved.
“Aaron–”
He had you writhing, seeking more of his soft lips, your hand weaving its way into his hair. He moaned, the warmth of his breath delicious on your skin.
He tutted as if to shake himself awake, the veil of pleasure you could provide him not about to cloud his judgement, apparently. He pinned your arms above your head, holding onto them in one hand while his other hand trailed down the side of your body, his fingertips ghosting over your skin with featherlight touches before his hand went back up and ended up wrapped gently around your throat.
“Color?” he breathed.
“Green.”
Aaron’s touch was still delicate, even if he was slipping back into his usual persona. His eyes were dark, dazed with lust and affection. “Now, be my good girl, and let Daddy work.”
You nodded eagerly and smiled, a moan escaping your throat right as you realized that your mind was empty and silent at last.
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taglist:
can’t stop thinking about dad!hotch to a new born baby. he would be so gentle and loving and would try to not act so giddy when the team asked about the baby bc he still wants to be stern around them but he’d end up breaking and get so smiley !! he would come home and admire his child and hold them so close and gush over how in love he is !! and the baby would look so much more smaller than it really is bc of his large frame OH MY GOD and he would get so excited to see his baby in the morning when they finally slept through the night guys someone stop me rn im obsessed with soft hotch
we don’t talk enough about how hotch bought garcia flowers and let her think they were from Gideon because he thought she deserved to know she was appreciated 😭
I’m sorry to keep sending asks but every time you answer I fall more in love!
I’m just such a simp for pregnant Reid with protective Hotch especially if Reid was coming from a bad past so Aaron is like extra aggressive and dominant to help keep Spencer safe and calm.
So if you want to, thoughts on pregnant omega Spencer on the jet back home after a hard case? He really wants to be scented by his alpha but doesn’t want to appear too needy. And doesn’t want to make Hotch look “weak” in front of the team.
Dude please keep sending me asks about pregnant Reid! Something about him being so vulnerable is just precious and I love it ;u; And Hotch being a big loving mate is just aaahh my favorite <3
Bad cases are hard on everyone, but especially on hormonal Omegas who are still trying to navigate the changes in their bodies since they've learned of their pregnancy not that long ago.
Spencer and Aaron have always kept their professional relationship and personal relationship separate (when they could). Of course there were times where Spencer needed to calm his Alpha down during a case, or when Aaron needed to scent his Omega when LEO's were eyeing him up-- but those times were considered few and far between. Being around the team was different, since they knew of the relationship.
But the team didn't yet know about their tiny secret that was currently making Spencer feel so overly emotional. He was curled up on the couch, thin blanket draped over his lanky figure, and staring out the window. His shoulders were tense as he held back his tears, refusing to allow himself to fall apart in front of the team- in front of his Alpha.
They've never really cuddled on the jet before. Not that Spencer didn't want that, but because he was always very wary of how his Alpha might feel. His past Alpha always made a point to complain about his neediness. "Clingy. Alphas can't stand a clingy Omega."
But fuck, being pregnant just made those feelings so much worse. He wanted nothing more than to be held and gentled and scented and-
"Spencer?"
His eyes flickered up to see Aaron standing over him, the Alphas stance tense and expression concerned. "What's wrong?"
"Hmm? Nothing," Spencer replied a little too quickly, pulling his knees to his chest to make room on the couch. Aaron took the seat, leaving a small gap between the two of them.
"Not nothing. You've been distressed since we left the precinct," he paused before lowering his voice, giving them a semblance of privacy, "I can smell that you're upset. It's coming off of you in waves."
Spencer wasn't sure what it was- maybe the tone in Aaron's voice, maybe the way his eyes softened, the way his presence just naturally calmed the Omega- but before he knew it, his lower lip was trembling. He didn't even get the chance to try and explain himself before Aaron was crowding him into the corner of the couch, arms wrapping around him and pulling him into his lap.
And in seconds those floodgates opened, Spencer pressing his face into Aaron's neck to hide from the rest of the pack. He was so embarrassed for being like this- he had never cried from a bad case before. Not in front of the team, anyways. Stupid hormones, stupid emotions, stupid-
Aaron's fingers carded through his hair, softly scratching his scalp and tugging on the roots as he let out a gentle rumble, kissing the top of Spencer's head. The Omega hiccupped, clutching to Aaron's shirt as he felt himself calming down. The Alpha always knew how to gentle him.
Spencer's breath hitched when he felt Aaron nose along his neck, inhaling the scent there and kissing the skin. With a small shift, making sure to carefully pin the Omega against himself, he scented him. Spencer couldn't help the keen that escaped his throat.
His embarrassment was forgotten the moment Aaron reclaimed him in front of everyone. The rumbling that was coming from his Alpha was a reminder that he was protected and loved, and he couldn't hold back his responding purr as he settled against the safety and warmth of his bonded.
He barely noticed the soft glances from the rest of the pack as he fell into a half-awake state, nuzzled into the corner of the couch with his Alpha.
Tagging some ppl who might like this <3
@ssa-noa @goobzoop @sparklinspence @tobias-hankel @thaddeusly @fox-trot17 Let me know if you wanna be tagged in my A/B/O stuff! <3
Also whoops there's not a lot mentioned about his pregnancy here but I just wanted some fluff ;u;
hi! this is my first post! aaaahhh! i hope you enjoy some of my hotch headcanons. i have SO many different ideas for his character (sfw AND nsfw); leave a comment, or like/rb if you’re interested in reading more of them! 💞 - rivka (@h0tchner)
- hotch sings in his car when he’s alone! he absolutely has one of those fancy satellite radio systems, and rocks out (mostly to The Beatles) driving to and from the BAU. he also drums along with his fingers on the steering wheel!
- he loves getting kissed on the nose! when you stand on your tiptoes and give him a gentle peck, his eyes flutter closed and his whole face breaks out into a smile. something about nose kisses makes him deliriously warm and happy.
- aaron is TOUCH STARVED! (seriously!!!) he always finds ways to connect through simple touches. he guides you into restaurants by placing a hand on the small of your back, puts a hand on your thigh when driving, throws an arm around you when grocery shopping, etc.; the man is like a puppy. he needs to be touching you, near you, always.
- he is chivalrous and gentlemanly, kind of like a knight in shining armour! he always opens car doors for you, pulls out chairs for you, and lets you into rooms first. these traditional gestures are indicative of how much he cares about your comfort over his own. he is deeply devoted to you.
- he is super organized and never misplaces anything... except for his reading glasses! you find them all over the house: on the kitchen counter, the bathroom sink, underneath a pile of papers on his desk and everywhere in between! he’s usually so tired when he takes them off that he doesn’t really care to put them in the same place each time.
- he plays the guitar! aaron keeps one lying around the living room. on the rare occasion that he sits on the couch and plays, you and jack plop down in front of him on the carpet and scream “encore!” after every song. aaron blushes red and shakes his head, grinning, saying “okay, but this is the last one!” ten times before it actually is the “last one.”
