Kinktober Day 22 — Vampire { Blurb }
Pairing: Vampire Aaron Hotchner x AFAB! Fem reader
MDNI, NSFW 18+ Kinktober Masterlist Main Masterlist
wc: 2.7k
cw: Smut, Blood, Blood drinking, Established relationship, vampire hotch, Oral r receiving, body worship, all he needs is you, p in v, aftercare, soft hotchner.
You'd always been the one who stayed behind, much like Penelope Garcia, manning the screens and digging through databases while the team chased leads in the field. It was safer that way, or so you'd convinced yourself. But nothing could have prepared you for the night you stumbled into Aaron Hotchner's secret.
It was late, the BAU office empty except for the hum of fluorescent lights and the distant whir of a coffee machine. You'd forgotten your phone in the bullpen and doubled back to grab it. That's when you heard the muffled sounds from his office low, guttural, like someone in pain. Concerned, you pushed the door open without knocking.
Aaron was hunched over his desk, his usually impeccable suit rumpled. His face was buried in the crook of a woman's arm...but something wasn't right...
Wait, no.
She was limp, her eyes glassy, and there was blood.
Blood trickling from two puncture wounds on her neck.
Aaron's mouth was stained red, his eyes glowing faintly in the dim light, fangs extended just enough to glint.
He froze when he sensed you, his head snapping up.
Those dark eyes, usually so composed, widened in panic. "Get out," he snarled, voice rough and inhuman.
You should have run. Screamed. Called security. But you didn't. Maybe it was the shock, or the way you'd always seen glimpses of something otherworldly in him the way he never seemed to age, how he avoided sunlight during stakeouts, the unnatural strength in his grip. Instead, you backed away slowly, whispering,
"Aaron... what are you?"
He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, standing tall despite the tremor in his frame. The woman stirred faintly he'd compelled her, you realized later, to forget.
But you?
He advanced, fangs retracting, his expression a mask of regret and fear. "You weren't supposed to see this. I can't let you-"
"I'm not going to tell anyone," you cut in, your heart pounding but your voice steady. "I... I get it. Or at least, I think I do. You've been protecting us all this time.
Hiding this."
He stopped inches from you, searching your face.
Centuries of instinct screamed at him to end the threat, but something in your eyes trust, maybe, or curiosity it made him hesitate. "Why aren't you afraid?"
"I am," you admitted. "But l've worked with you long enough to know you're not a monster. Not really."
He let you go that night, swearing you to secrecy. And you kept it. Over the weeks that followed, the dynamic shifted. Awkward at first stolen glances in meetings, him checking in more often than necessary.
But as cases piled up, you found yourself drawn to him.
His quiet intensity, the way he commanded a room without raising his voice. And he? He started noticing you in ways he hadn't before.
It began with the scent. Your blood called to him like a siren song, sweeter and more intoxicating than any he'd encountered in his long, undead life.
At first, he resisted, feeding from donors or bagged supplies. But proximity wore him down. During a late-night strategy session, alone in the conference room, he contessed.
"Your scent... it's driving me mad," he murmured, his hand brushing yours as he passed a file. His touch was cool, electric.
You swallowed, heat rising in your cheeks. "What does that mean?"
He met your gaze, eyes darkening. "It means I want you. More than I should."
From there, it spiraled. Stolen kisses in empty hallways, his lips cold against your warmth. Dates in shadowed restaurants where he pretended to eat. And eventually, the feeding.
The first time was tentative he asked permission a dozen times, his voice husky with need. You bared your throat, and when his fangs pierced your skin, it was ecstasy wrapped in pain. He drank sparingly, his hands gentle on your waist, murmuring praises against your neck.
It became routine. Safer than hunting strangers, he said. But you knew it was more. He craved you not just your blood, but you. All of you. And in return, you fell for him, this ancient creature who worshipped you like a goddess, despite his dominance in every other aspect of life.
You shared an apartment now, a quiet sanctuary away from the chaos of the BAU. He insisted on it for protection, he claimed, but you saw the
possessiveness in his eyes. You were his, and he was yours.
The latest case had dragged on for two grueling weeks.
A serial killer in rural Montana, bodies drained and discarded like husks. Ironic, you thought, as you coordinated from Quantico, piecing together profiles and leads.
Aaron led the team on the ground, his voice steady over video calls, but you could hear the strain. He hadn't fed properly since leaving. Bagged blood sustained him, but it wasn't enough. Not like you.
When the jet finally touched down and he texted you.
Aaron <3
Home soon.
You prepared. Candles flickering, a warm bath drawn, your favorite takeout waiting. But when the door opened, your heart clenched.
He looked wrecked. His skin, already pale, was ghostly, almost translucent. Sweat beaded on his forehead despite the chill in the air, and his eyes those piercing brown eyes were rimmed with red, hungry and desperate. He dropped his go-bag by the door, shoulders slumping.
"Aaron," you whispered, crossing the room to him.
He pulled you into his arms immediately, burying his face in your hair. His body was cold, trembling faintly.
"Missed you," he growled, voice low and rough. "So damn much."
You cupped his face, tilting it up to meet your gaze.
"You look awful. When was the last time you fed?"
He shook his head, lips brushing your palm. "Doesn't matter. I need you now." His hands roamed your back, possessive, but there was reverence in his touch. Even starving, he held back, waiting for your cue.
You nodded, heart racing. "Then take what you need." He didn't hesitate. In a blur of motion vampire speed that still thrilled you he scooped you up and carried you to the bedroom.
The door clicked shut behind him, and he set you down gently on the bed, his eyes devouring you. "Strip for me," he commanded, voice like velvet over steel.
Domineering, yet laced with adoration.
You obeyed, peeling off your clothes slowly, teasing him. His gaze followed every movement, fangs elongating as your skin was revealed. When you were bare, he knelt before you, hands sliding up your thighs.
"God, you're perfect," he murmured, kissing the inside of your knee.
"My perfect girl. Been dreaming of this, of you the whole time I was gone."
His lips trailed higher, cool against your heated flesh.
He worshipped you with his mouth, nipping and licking, dirty words spilling from him like confessions.
"Gonna make you feel so good, baby. Gonna worship this pretty body until you're begging for me."
You shivered as his fingers ghosted over your core, already wet for him. "Aaron, please.."
He chuckled darkly, pressing a kiss to your inner thigh.
"Patience. I've waited weeks for this feast." His eyes met yours, intense and loving. "You're everything to me. My light in the dark."
Then he dove in, tongue lapping at your folds with vampiric precision. You gasped, fingers tangling in his hair as he devoured you.
He was relentless, sucking on your clit, humming in approval at your taste. "So fucking sweet," he groaned against you. "Better than any blood. Could eat this pussy all night."
His words sent jolts through you, vulgar and raw, heightening the pleasure. One hand pinned your hip down his strength unyielding while the other slipped two fingers inside you, curling expertly.
"That's it, take it," he urged, pumping them in rhythm with his tongue. "You're so tight, so wet for me. My good girl."
The build was exquisite, not rushed. He took his time, reading your body like a profiler, adjusting to every moan and arch. When he added a third finger, stretching you, you cried out. "Aaron-fuck, yes!"
He lifted his head briefly, lips glistening with your arousal, fangs glinting. "Come for me first," he ordered.
"Want to feel you clench around my fingers before I drink."
His mouth returned, sucking harder, fingers thrusting deeper. The coil snapped, pleasure crashing over you in waves. You bucked against him, screaming his name as he worked you through it, praising you the whole time.
"Beautiful. So fucking beautiful when you come."
As you trembled in the aftershocks, he withdrew his fingers, licking them clean with a satisfied growl. Then he climbed up your body, kissing every inch, your stomach, breasts, collarbone. Body worship in its purest form.
"You're a goddess," he whispered, nuzzling your neck.
"Centuries l've walked this earth, and nothing compares to you."
His fangs grazed your skin, and you tilted your head, offering yourself. "Feed," you breathed. "Take me."
He bit down gently, the sharp sting melting into bliss as he drank. Warmth spread through you, his moans vibrating against your throat. He didn't take much just enough to sate the hunger, his hips grinding against yours, hard and insistent.
When he pulled back, lips bloodied it dripping from his mouth and to his chin, his eyes were clear, strength returned. But the desire burned brighter. "Need to be inside you," he rasped, shedding his clothes with urgent hands.
You nodded eagerly, pulling him down. He positioned himself, teasing your entrance with his cock thick, cool, and throbbing.
"Gonna fuck you slow," he promised, dirty talk resuming. "Make you feel every inch. You're mine, aren't you? This tight little cunt is all mine."
"Yes," you whimpered as he pushed in sinking down, inch by inch, filling you completely.
He groaned, bottoming out. "Fuck, so perfect. So warm." He set a deliberate pace, thrusting deep, hands roaming your body in worship.
Kisses peppered your skin, murmurs of adoration mixing with filth. "Take it, baby. Love how you squeeze me. Gonna fill you up, mark you inside and out." you moan his thrusts slow but hitting you just right.
The rhythm built, his dominance shining through controlling the pace, pinning your wrists above your head with one hand.
"You're everything. My queen. l'd kneel for you any day."
You wrapped your legs around him, urging him deeper.
The friction, the fullness it was overwhelming. When his free hand found your clit again, circling with precision, you shattered a second time loud moans spilling from you as you clenching around him.
He followed soon after, burying himself deep with a feral growl, spilling inside you. "Mine," he panted, collapsing beside you.
Afterward, the shift was seamless. Back to the 'human' Hotch. That is what he named it anyway. He pulled out and quickly grabbed a soft tissue from the beside table, He cleaned you gently, The blood on your neck and his chin, then to the come that spilled out of you. his touch tender. Always tender.
He Drew you into his arms under the covers, cool body a contrast to your warmth. "You okay?" he asked softly, kissing your forehead.
"More than okay," you murmured, nestling against him.
He held you close, whispering sweet nothings until you drifted off. In his arms, safe and adored, you knew this was all he needed. All you both needed.
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