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ssa-hotchnershoney · 9 months

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Can’t Keep His Hands to Himself | Aaron Hotchner

summary: when Morgan teases Aaron about being able to keep up in his sex life, his insecurities lead him to an unconventional way of spicing things up. but what happens when you stumble upon his little secret?

word count: 1.8 k

warnings: 18+. minors dni. brief alcohol use, descriptions of sex, fem!reader, mentions of erectile disfunction, mentions of cialis, Morgan being Morgan.

author’s note: welcome to my first Aaron ficling. I’m still not sure I’m entirely happy with this but I hope you guys enjoy it at least.

- - - - - - -

The asinine rumors, crude jokes, and unbelievable assumptions that come along with a 21 year age gap like the one between you and Aaron were not lost on you. You know the kind of things that people say and while you don’t often lend your ear to them, you unfortunately have heard most of them yourself.

As much as you try to brush them off and not let them bother you, you know that they bother Aaron. Namely, the not-so-subtle digs at your sex life, or the assumed lack-there-of.

In your eyes, your sex life with Aaron had never been a problem. Aaron had always been a very giving, very attentive lover. But lately, the passion, intensity, and frequency in your sex life had ramped up considerably. While you don’t want to complain, you’re definitely wondering what changed and how long the two of you can sustain this level of intimacy.

Like five days ago, when you had woken up just before Aaron, slowly rolled out of bed, and headed for the shower. Aaron had felt you stir and wasn’t far behind, sneaking in the shower and snaking his arms around your waist. His bulge was prominent as he pressed himself tight against your body, hands quickly dipping down to circle your bud as he planted wet, open mouthed kisses at the base of your neck. He’d eventually spun you around, pressing you against the glass as he captured your lips, tongue quickly finding yours as he hoisted you in his hands, taking you up against the wall of the shower. It was hot and passionate and the bathroom had been filled with whimpers and steam that you weren’t sure was from the heat of the shower or the heat between the two of you.

Or three days ago, when he was running late for your weekly dinner date so you decided to meet him at his office while he finished up some paperwork. He’d taken one look at you in that little black dress and nearly thrown the entire contents of his desk to the floor, bending you over it and flipping the skirt up over your ass, as he spread your cheeks and fucked into you from behind. You were thankful the BAU was empty, as his office filled with wanton moans and the sounds of skin slapping skin. He had slid his hand up your body and around your throat, pulling you back into him. The other gripped a handful of your peach so tight you were sure it’d bruise. He had fucked you like he was a wild animal in heat. You’d never even made it to your restaurant reservation.

Or even last night, when he’d come home from a long day to be met at the door by you in nothing but his old college shirt and his favorite pair of panties. He had immediately hoisted you into his arms and carried you to the bedroom, gently tossing you on the bed. He left a trail of wet kisses down your neck, the valley of your breasts, and between your thighs, where he’d spent hours devouring you like you were his last meal. All before making long, slow, passionate love to you into the wee hours of the morning, exchanging endless praises and I love you’s. He had been ready to go round after round, for hours, and you had cum again and again and again until you were absolutely spent.

That’s why you aren’t entirely surprised as you stare down at the bottle of little orange pills in your hand. A little confused? Yes. But not surprised.

You hadn’t been trying to find it. You honestly weren’t even snooping when you had found it in the middle drawer of his nightstand. You would normally never go through Aaron’s things but he had asked you to grab something and once you’d seen it tucked in the back of the drawer, you couldn’t pretend you hadn’t.

You don’t have much time to dwell on it, as you can hear the footsteps quickly approaching.

“Did you find…” Aaron’s voice slows to a stop as he looks up from cuffing his sleeve to see you on his side of the bed, familiar white and orange bottle in your hand. All Aaron can do is let out a sigh as he runs his hands over his face, reluctantly moving to sit by you.

“Aaron, h-have you…are y-you…” You stutter to ask any sort of question because you aren’t exactly sure what you want to ask in this situation.

The glint of guilt and humiliation in his eyes as he takes the bottle from your hands makes you soften, reaching your hand out to his leg, rubbing soothing circles with your thumb. “Baby, you know you can talk to me.”

“I-I let Morgan get into my head…” Aaron groans, falling back on the bed, hands rubbing his face at the memory. You follow closely, curling up into his side, a hand lovingly rubbing circles on his chest to provide what comfort you could as he recounted the shameful memory.

- - - - - - -

A couple weeks ago, at the end of August, the team had a BBQ at Rossi’s. It was only the third time you’d been around the team outside occasionally dropping by the office and Morgan…well…he just had to be Morgan.

“I’m just saying, Hotch…girl like that…her age…with a body like that?” Aaron’s eyes skimmed up your body as you brushed your hair back, ringing out the excess water. It was one of the hottest days of the Summer thus far, your body on full display in your bathing suit as you tried to stay cool by the pool with the bau girls and all the kids.

Derek wasn’t wrong. You were young, nearly half his age. And stunning. The gap in age between the two of you had been a major underlying insecurity of Aaron’s as it was.

“She’s got an appetite, man. Craves it.” Morgan continued and Aaron gulped at his words. “And not just any ol’ bow chicka wow wow. She needs adventure. You’re gonna have to spice it up a little. You gonna be able to keep up, old man?” Morgan asks, smirk evident in his voice as he pats his boss on the back.

Aaron had just chuckled, laughing it off as he brought his the glass bottle to his lips, taking a sip of his beer to distract him from the truth he knew lay within Derek’s words. While he’d never thought there were problems with your bedroom intimacy, the last thing Aaron needed was to doubt his ability to please you and question if you would tire of him and try to find it somewhere else if he fell short. He knew Morgan was just messing with him, but his words actually started messing with him.

- - - - - - -

“Do you remember that night, after the BBQ? When we were in bed and we…I…c-couldn’t…” Aaron trails off, too ashamed to even say the words.

You remember because you’d gone home that night and Aaron was on you in an instant. It was needy, and you had thought it’d been cause you had been teasing him with that bikini all day. You heart aches for him as you realize now that it was because he thought he had something to prove.

But that’s not all that had happened. You also remember that for the first time in your relationship, he’d not been able to keep it up and after a half hour of him trying just to get more and more frustrated, you’d ended up finishing yourself off in the shower.

“I had the love of my life, the most gorgeous woman, inside and out, on top of me and I was struggling to focus on you. Derek’s words kept swirling around my mind like a broken record and I let my own insecurities win. I got the p-pills the next day.” Aaron sighs in defeat, closing his eyes to avoid eye contact at the humiliation of reliving it all. You make a mental note to brutally murder the dumbass that made him feel this way.

“Aaron, look at me.” You say gently, fingers grazing the bottom of his chin to bring his gaze back to yours. “There is absolutely nothing wrong with needing help and I have nothing against you taking these if you feel like you need them but…I don’t want you to feel like you need them. I have never ever, not once, thought that you needed any help. There has not been a single instance where I wasn’t entirely satisfied and I am perfectly content with our sex life.” You hold his gaze to ensure he can see the sincerity behind yours. The blush that creeps to his cheeks before he adverts his eyes lets you know that he does so you decide you can finally tease him a little to lighten the mood. “Do I need to remind you about the three orgasms you gave me the very first night we spent together?”

Aaron chuckled at that. That night happened to be one of his prouder moments in your relationship. He had been so anxious about his ability to perform knowing it had been awhile since he had been intimate with anyone. And it definitely wasn’t lost on him that you were used to men much closer to your age, with more stamina, six packs, and no scars defacing their bodies. So when you were still begging him not to stop after the second orgasm, it had given him a boost of confidence not only in his ability to please you, but in your relationship as a whole, despite the age gap. He just needed to remember that confidence now.

“Like I said, I have nothing against you taking these if you like them. But I want it to be because you want to. Not because you think I want you or need you to take them. Ok? I love our sex life as is.” Soft eyes boring into his.

“When was the last time I told you how much I love you?” He whispers so gently, a hand coming to brush your hair behind you ear. He genuinely can’t fathom how he got lucky enough to have someone equally as beautiful as they are caring and understanding love him.

“Well, you told me an awful lot last night.” You smirk.

“Would you let me tell you some more?” He asks as he slowly climbs back into his favorite spot above you, wet lips on your favorite spot on your neck.

“A-aron, you’ll be l-late.” You stutter, body already succumbing to the feel of his lips and the touch of his fingers ghosting over pantyline.

“Something tells me Morgan will forgive me.” He only smirks, no intentions of stopping any time soon.

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ssa-hotchnershoney · 10 months

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Someone make it happen. Like. Yesterday.

i need a cat and mouse fic where aaron is the unsub and stalks reader. reader gets “kidnapped” then winds up falling in love with him. but then once he has her, he stops committing crimes to have her, and he sweeps her off of her feet. 🥺🤭💞💞💞

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ssa-hotchnershoney · 10 months

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Let Me Put My Lips to Something

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner/Fem!Reader

Accessibility/Diversity notes: Reader taking birth control is central to the plot, in this one reader is a member of the BAU, reader has breasts and is shorter than hotch

Word Count: 3367

Warnings: extensive mentions of birth control, inappropriate workplace relationships, extensive innuendo, brief mention of guns

@ssamorganhotchner thank you for turning this into an actual idea <3 hope you enjoy ;)

It's been a few weeks since you stopped using birth control, and it's already affected your life more than you thought it would.

There was this guy you'd been seeing, Johnny, who was sweet enough, and patient with your hours. But as your hormones changed, it was as if he was a piece of fruit which had started to rot. You noticed that he chewed loudly, that he looked at your boobs instead of your face when you were talking, that his beard wasn't actually all that clean. His blue eyes, once kind and full of humour, started looking beady and demanding.

You sighed as you saw the three bubbles appear and disappear, bobbing up and down almost like a buoy in the ocean. He was clearly typing his response over and over. You couldn't blame him.

I'm so sorry, Johnny. I'm just finding it too hard to maintain a relationship and my job at the same time. I'm wishing you all the best. You're a lovely guy and I know you'll find an amazing person. Please, please understand that it's me, not you.

It was a neatly-crafted message. If only it was true.

In the end, he replied with a simple thumbs up and a smiley face.

Then there was your other problem. And here he was, right over your shoulder.

Aaron offered you a quick smile as he set your coffee down on your desk.

"Thanks, Hotch," You didn't look up, setting your phone face-down.

"You're welcome," He replied easily.

You and Hotch were working through some of the preliminary paperwork in some precinct in the middle of nowhere. Why didn't you ever have cases in the Catskills? Or Nantucket Island? Or Palm Springs?

Prentiss and Morgan were off doing interviews with locals, and Reid and JJ were... Honestly, you weren't actually sure. You weren't really listening. Your problem was requiring more of your attention than you'd like to admit. It was embarrassing, frankly. And now that he was back from the coffee run, your limited run of productivity would come to an end again.

Fortunately, if he'd noticed that you were having to re-read everything five times to comprehend it, he didn't mention it.

You tapped your pen irritatedly against the top corner of the file, and curled your hand into a fist over and over again, trying to work out some of your tension.

Sighing again, you took a sip of your coffee to try and still your mind. It was so fucking frustrating. Normally, you were sharp. Normally, you were an adult who could tune everything out. You were a good agent, it's what got you hired in the first place.

With your mind racing, you missed the table when you went to set your coffee down. You reacted just in time to catch it, but it sent a few drops splattering onto your pants nonetheless.

"Crap," You breathed.

Hotch raised his eyebrows at you. "Everything okay?"

You squeezed your eyes shut and took a deep breath, fighting hard not to shout at him.

"Okay," He said, finally. "What's going on with you?"

"I spilled some coffee," You gestured towards your lap.

He left his desk and you watched as he asked one of the local officers something. He turned around and made eye contact with you, and you didn't care enough to pretend that you hadn't been looking at him. He gestured for you to come over to them.

"There's a bathroom just down the hall. They have a Tide pen for emergencies."

You nodded and walked in the direction he'd pointed in. You heard him following you, and you rolled your eyes.

"I'll be fine, Hotch."

He kept following you.

"I want to ask you something," He said firmly.

This side of the precinct was quieter, near the break room and the supply closet. If there was a place to yell at your boss, this was it. So you stopped, and turned to face him.

"Hotch, I'll be-"

"No," He shook his head. "What is going on with you? If there's something affecting your ability to work on this case, I need to know."

You glanced down either side of the hallway and tugged Hotch into the bathroom. He looked startled as you closed the door behind the both of you.

"This isn't appropriate-"

"You said you wanted to know." You said, lowering your voice. "So I'm going to tell you."

You walked towards him until his back was against the locked bathroom door. He put his hand on his hip, running his large hand over the fabric. For a moment it almost looked like he was going to touch himself. The thought made your knees weak. You closed your eyes and tried to steady yourself.

When you opened your eyes again, you realized he was searching your face for any indication of what was going on. He looked scared, and you glanced down at the hand that had been wandering his hip. It had stilled, now, and you realized that he was gripping his gun.

You backed up completely.

For a fleeting moment, you were grateful that this was one of the bigger station bathrooms you'd been in. There was an open shower, a sink, and a toilet, which gave you a little more space to put between you.

Hotch said your name softly. "You're scaring me," He whispered. "Please."

You rested your head against the cool, tiled wall behind you. "I'm off my birth control. And it's affecting me."

"Oh," Hotch replied, and you could have counted the ways the tension visibly melted off him. Most importantly, he wasn't holding onto his gun for dear life. "I'm sorry. You don't have to tell me-"

Your gaze flicked up to meet his, and he immediately stopped talking.

"It's affecting me because I had to break things off with this guy that I've been seeing, and I should be sad, but the only thing I can think about is you." Your sentence started off strong, and waned until you could barely whisper the last word.

"It's nothing to do with you, you're not leading me on," You said quietly, trying to reassure him. "I never used to think about you, but now... The way you look, the way your suits fit, the way you smell-"

Your voice gave way to an almost-silent moan and you tipped your head back, closing your eyes. Sure enough, underneath the smell of bleach and paper towels, there was his scent. Certain, confident, bold, clean, distinctive.

"I'm sorry," You whispered, your eyes still closed. "I know it's unprofessional, and I don't want to make you uncomfortable."

You blinked your eyes open, and Hotch was a shade of red you'd never seen before.

"I promise, it's just pheromones or something, it's just while my hormones are regulating and then I'll be back to normal," You said quickly.

"I'm not sure," He started. "...how to address this."

You found yourself wishing that the ground would open up and swallow you.

"Do you need to fly back to Washington? I could wear a different cologne, or..."

He was more flustered than you'd ever seen him.

You shook your head. "If it would make you more comfortable, I can take sick leave until I'm over it," You sighed. "I wish it could have been anyone else. If it was Derek, or my barista, or anyone..."

A flicker of something resembling offence slipped across his face, but it was gone just as soon as it appeared.

"I'm going to say something," He said lowly. "And if you say no, we can pretend I never said anything, right?"

You nodded, and watched as he chewed his bottom lip. "Right."

"Would it help to get it out of your system?"

Your breath caught in your throat. It was the only thing you'd been able to think about for days, and here he was, offering it to you on a silver platter, no questions asked.

"Hotch," You breathed, staring at his lips. "God, yes."

"Okay." He nodded. "How do we do this?"

Without even thinking about it, you were walking over to him, and once again, his back was pressed to the bathroom door. He was taller than you, but his breaths were short, his chest heaving, and he was watching you, no idea what your next move would be.

You cupped his jaw and immediately, your brain knew it was wrong. This was Hotch, the person who signed off on everything you did at work. He was your boss, and his skin was warm in your palm. There was the slightest sensation of stubble against your skin. Your whole body felt hazy and warm, like you were swimming in a lava lamp.

You leaned into him, and he leaned into you. Inch by inch, you neared each other until your lips were touching from sheer proximity, rather than pressure. His breath smelled like the black coffee he'd been drinking, and his shirt was soft beneath your fingertips. He rubbed your nose against yours, nuzzling into you.

Then his mouth was on yours, and his thin lips parted easily. All of this tension, all of this agony, and he was kissing you like a whore the second you asked for it. His tongue traced the tip of yours experimentally, then slipped underneath your tongue, testing how easily you'd let him take control. You gasped for breath, inhaling deeply through your nose and curling your tongue against his. He smiled into the kiss and traced the shape of your tensed tongue, then leaned back slightly. You followed him, not wanting the moment to end. He ran his tongue over your lower lip as he slipped away, nipping your lip as he went. You moaned and pressed your lips against his, so hard that you felt like they might bruise.

His hands dropped to your hips, squeezing you tenderly. He manipulated your hips so you were at a slight angle, and he pressed his erection against your body, dragging himself back and forth. He gasped quietly and dropped his head back against the door, finally breaking the kiss.

"Where the hell did you learn to kiss like that?"

"You really think you're the first person I've fucked in a bathroom?" He breathed against your ear.

Your eyes were wide when you looked up at him, and he cupped your cheek, bringing an edge of affection to the whole affair. He held your gaze for a while, and you couldn't read his expression, but you had a strong sense he was trying to tell you something.

With his other hand, he guided your hand towards his cock. "Is this what you've been thinking about?"

There was a sharp knock on the door, and Derek called your name. "You alright?"

You dropped your hand back to your side, taking a step back.

"I'm fine," You called through the door. "Could you bring my go bag and make sure nobody else comes down this corridor?"

"You got it," He replied, and you heard his footsteps receding.

Hotch cleared his throat. Suddenly, you couldn't look him in the eye, so you turned away, washing your hands.

"It's probably for the best," You said quietly. "We can forget about this, right? Like you said?"

You knew you were lying as the words passed your lips. If anything, the beast inside you was snarling in its cage, clawing at the inside of your stomach, more desperate than ever. You'd had a taste, and now you had the hunger.

"Right," Hotch replied quietly.

Turning around to drop the used paper towel in the bin, you saw that he was staring at the floor. In slow motion, his gaze tracked up your body towards your face.

"Fuck it," You breathed, closing the gap between you and kissing him, both of your hands pressed to his cheeks.

His hand came to the back of your neck, his thumb stroking the tender skin there. He murmured your name.

He turned away from the kiss. "You should wait for your hormones to settle. You're not thinking straight."

"It can mean nothing," You said, trying not to let your voice drop into a desperate whine.

Hotch let go of you completely, his hand resting on the door handle.

"It won't mean nothing to me," He breathed, and left before the words had time to sink in.

________

You know that something's really wrong because the team doesn't even tease you about the fact that you and Hotch were in a bathroom together. The car ride to the hotel was completely silent. Hotch was driving one car, and you'd been obvious about making sure you were in the other one.

JJ walked into the bathroom while you were brushing your teeth. Her face was apologetic as she handed you your phone.

"It's him," She said quietly.

You spat out the toothpaste and rinsed it down the drain.

"Am I going to lose my job?" You whispered.

She shook her head.

Taking the phone from her hand, you read the text quickly.

I'm sorry for questioning your judgment.

It's fine, You quickly typed back, hitting send. You were right.

For the second time that day, you watched the three dots bob on your screen, except this time you found yourself actually caring what would eventually pop out of them.

I could have done it if you meant less to me. That kiss was...

Heat rushed to your face, and you locked your phone, slamming it face down onto the bathroom counter.

JJ looked alarmed. "What? Please tell me you're not getting fired."

You shook your head. "Can we talk about it, actually?"

She nodded quickly, and you grabbed your phone, walking over to your bed. You crossed your legs and she sat on her bed, facing you.

She smiled at you encouragingly, but her expression was laced with worry.

"I stopped my birth control because it was starting to have some really bad side effects," You began. "And I'd heard that sometimes your mood changes, your taste in people changes..."

She nodded again.

"And," You breathed deeply. "For some reason, I'm like, super attracted to Hotch now. And it's making it really difficult to concentrate. He asked me about it, so I told him."

"Oh my-" JJ stopped herself. "That was brave."

You shook your head. "That's not it. At that point we were arguing in the bathroom, so there was nobody else around, and... We kissed. And it was... crazy."

JJ shook her head with surprise. "What? You and Hotch?"

You nodded.

"So what did he text you?"

You passed her your phone, and she read the last few messages. "Oh, wow. What does he mean about your judgment?"

"We were going to do more, and then he said that we shouldn't, because my hormones are all over the place, which is true."

"You should reply," She said. "He's probably panicking. It's way out of his comfort zone to be so open."

"I have no idea what to say," You sighed.

"Well, don't you want to... you know?"

Despite everything, you laughed. "Yeah, I mean. I still find him attractive. And he's a nice guy, and god... today..." You fanned your face.

"So what's stopping you?" JJ smiled genuinely.

"He said something."

She frowned.

"Promise this will stay between us?" You said.

"For sure."

"I said that it didn't have to mean anything, and he said that it wouldn't mean nothing to him."

"Oh, wow," JJ said again. "So he likes you?"

You buried your face in your hands. "I don't know. And now I feel like an asshole because it's like... It's like I have this power over him, and now that my hormones have changed, he has a chance. Do you know what I mean? It's like in high school, when the popular girl all of a sudden changes her mind about the nice guy, and it's like, no, you don't deserve him, this whole time he's been pining over you and you never even noticed," You rambled.

"Well," She said slowly. "I'm a big believer in following your heart. And if your heart is saying that the kiss really was something, then... I think it does mean something, even if you don't want it to."

You flopped back onto the bed. "You're right."

JJ moved to sit beside you on your bed.

You picked up your phone, pulling up your messages with Hotch.

I need you. You typed. My body isn't letting me lie to myself anymore. I need you, Aaron. And I need you tonight. I don't mean that I need your body. I mean that I need you in a way that I find fucking terrifying

You showed the draft message to JJ. "It's coming on a little strong, but?"

JJ nodded. "If it's true, then it's perfect. He's been hurt before. He needs the truth. And honestly," She stroked your forehead. "I think he needs you too."

You were silent.

"I think that's why the team has been so careful around you both today. Maybe you never noticed, but it feels like everyone except you and Hotch saw this coming. And all at once, it happened and then immediately unhappened."

"Really?" You hadn't realized you'd been holding your breath.

She nodded. "It's like your perfect person has been there all along, and neither of you noticed."

You pressed send.

If you're mocking me, I want your two weeks notice on my desk by Monday. If you're serious, we should talk, He replied.

Your phone vibrated again.

You know where my room is.

_____

Your fingertips traced the skin of his back gently. The room was dark, curtains closed, lights off, except the light in the bathroom, which provided just enough light that you could make out Aaron's silhouette.

"Did you finish?" He murmured, nuzzling into your chest.

"Three times," You laughed. "You're an excellent lay."

He chuckled quietly, the sound muffled into your skin.

"We didn't get to talking," He said.

"How long have you...?"

He swallowed. "A while."

One of his thick fingers traced the shape of your left nipple. You reacted without meaning to, arching your back into his touch and sighing happily.

He watched your reaction, and the spark of arousal caught fire when you realized what he was doing. He was studying your body, the way it reacted to him. He was memorizing what made you tick.

"Today," You started quietly. "You reached for your gun when I came towards you. Were you really scared of me?"

He shook his head. "It was just muscle memory. I think you could hurt me if you wanted to, but I knew you wouldn't."

"I've never felt anything like that before. Needing something, someone, like that. I can't even describe it," You said, rambling into the dark quietness of the room.

"Trust me, I know the feeling," He breathed, taking your nipple into his mouth.

"Aaron," You moaned. "We should get some sleep."

"We should," He replied, sighing and rolling onto his back. You took advantage of his new position to rest your head on his shoulder, draping your arm over his stomach.

"I think this was meant to happen," You whispered, afraid that saying it out loud might shatter this fragile thing that was starting to form. "I know it's going to be complicated, but I feel like I was made for you."

He wrapped his arm around you. "You're perfect. Anyone would be lucky to have you."

You thumbed his chin. "Don't try and be the hero. I like you, Aaron. I want you to be lucky to have me." You smiled, leaning in for a short kiss. "If you want me, I'm right here."

He smiled, pressing a kiss to your temple. "Oh honey, you already have me."

A happy sigh left your chest, and before long, you were asleep, feeling safe and comfortable for the first time in... forever.

A thousand different thoughts were running through Hotch's head. It only took one look at your body curled against his own for those doubts to cease.

"We'll work it out," He whispered. "I was made to love you."

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ssa-hotchnershoney · 10 months

Note

Hey bestie, if you’re taking request, can you write something with Hotch helping Reader with a bout of depression? Super fluffy and sweet, I think you might’ve written something like this before but I’m in need lol.

ty for ur request!! fem!reader

cw depression

Hotch's office is eerily similar to a Principal's, in that every time he calls you in, you worry you're in trouble far before you think something good might have happened. He sits on the other side of his desk like a monolith, unshakeable, but a softness relaxes his brow that you aren't used to seeing.

"You can have some days off," he says.

You squeeze the armrests of the chair you're sitting in, the old wood creaking. Legs crossed, arms held to your abdomen to protect from a blow that won't come, you're tightly wound with exhaustion, the stick of it twisting and twisting. You're curled nauseously around it. So tired you could cry.

"If I come back to all that leftover work I'll feel worse," you say morosely. "It's better if I keep working."

"It can't get better if you're still working. And don't worry about what gets leftover, that's my job. I'll delegate."

"That's not fair from me, giving other people my work 'cos I'm feeling down."

"You're very far away," he says. You don't understand his meaning until he holds out his hand. "I know this is a work conversation, but these aren't work feelings." His strict adherence to professionalism in the face of your relationship can't withstand this, it never has. Hotch doesn't gesture for you again. His expression says enough.

It's alright.

You're not surprised when he pushes his chair out to make room for you. You perch on the desk, your legs between his, his fingers quick to pull at the end of your rising pencil skirt and neaten you up. You look at his shoulder rather than his serious gaze, arms crossed against your chest defensively.

"As your boyfriend," he begins, flattening the wrinkles of your skirt in an excuse to rub your thigh, "I'd tell you to take as much time off as they can give you, and as your boss, I'm telling you that that's as many days as you need to feel better."

"I just feel so down," you admit, dropping your face, hiding your mouth behind a closed hand.

Hotch's fingertips push against the hem of your skirt. His hand is warm. It slides far post a proper place to spread out over the fat of your thigh, his head bowed toward your stomach. "Tell me what I can do to make it better," he says.

You know you could ask him for anything, in that moment, and he'd try to get it for you.

"Can you hug me?" you ask.

There, his hand sliding to the back of your thigh and pulling you toward him. He hugs your back with his face crushed under your chest, unapologetically steel-armed. It doesn't take long for him to convince you down onto his thigh, even as you murmur about being heavy, shy to lay your weight in his lap.

"Things will get better," he says quietly, a promise, "but only if you slow down, and let people take care of you."

You hold your breath.

Hotch feels bigger than you, not in stature but in warmth, maybe.

"You don't know that," you say.

"Well, how you're feeling now? I think it needs attention. Like a cold. Like a broken bone." He speaks for you alone, his voice warm and quiet. "You can't keep walking on it. When you're here, you feel like you have to pretend to feel better. If we go home you can rest."

We, he said.

He holds you longer than he should, through emails beeping on his cell and the landlines ringing to the left. He only lets you stand when a knock sounds against the heavy door, and even then it's with a comforting kiss pressed to your temple.

"Am I interrupting?" Rossi asks at the door.

"No," you say, rubbing your tired eyes, again perched on the lip of his desk.

"Absolutely," Hotch says. "What do you need?"

"Just wondering how our young L/N was doing," Rossi says. "You okay?"

"I'm fine."

"She'll be okay," Hotch says.

Rossi adds that he actually did need something beyond a wellbeing check on you, and rather than shuttle you out, he and Hotch stand outside of the office, talking in dulcet tones. You sit in Hotch's big leather chair and glance idly at his things, a photo of him and Jack with a fish between them. Wedged into the corner, held between the frame and the outer glass, is a photo of you.

You might not believe you'll ever feel better right now, but you can believe Hotch. If he says you'll feel better, you trust that he's right.

605 notes · View notes

ssa-hotchnershoney · 10 months

Text

Fireworks

MINORS DNI

AO3

Pairing: DBF!Hotch x You (fem!reader)

Summary: It's just some Fourth of July fluff/smut. Happy Fourth, my dear American friends.

Tags: Soft Dom Aaron Hotchner x Light Dom/sub x Dom/sub Undertones x Sweet Degradation x Brat Taming x Praise Kink x Reader Is Kind Of A Brat But I find her absolutely hilarious x Banter x Attempt at Humor x Age Difference x Forbidden Love x Smut, you know me x Sweet x Protected Sex x Impact Play x Spanking, the nice kind x apparently this is better than patriotism x I'm Canadian what do I know x Fireworks x Dom Aaron Hotchner x dbf!hotch x Adult Content

Word count: 5.3k

A/N: Honestly, I wasn't sure whether I'd get to publishing it. But I hope this hits the sweet spot for you.

In the midst of the vibrant bursts of color that decorated the sky and the crackling sounds filling the air around you, you wondered how you got so lucky.

You wondered how you got to sit on the stairs of the Lincoln Memorial, watching the Washington Monument in the distance as it bathed in the soft glow of lights, exuding a sense of reverence and history which seemed particularly fitting today of all days.

The mesmerizing display of lights painting the sky in short succession was nothing compared to the vivid streaks of red, white, and blue dancing across his face and flickering in his dark eyes with patriotic hues.

You could have sworn his eyes did more than mirror the sparkle of the fireworks above, they drowned them out with the lust and possibility glowing in his irises.

You let your eyes wander and trace the contours of his face, wanting nothing more than to taste his strong jawline with delicate lips, to feel the hint of his stubble prick the corners of your mouth.

You wanted to read what was happening behind his piercing eyes as he stared at you. They were filled with his usual intense focus, but now they held a depth that hinted at the multitude of emotions he carried within but barely let out.

You weren’t supposed to be here. There was, after all, a party in full effect at your house. And you weren’t supposed to be here together. You weren’t sure how exactly your father would react to finding his daughter sitting beside his friend, but it didn't take a profiler to guess that it would not be a happy conversation.

Yet here you were. Sitting on the sun-warmed steps with the other spectators watching the explosions in the sky and positive that you were about to make the best decision of your life as a small smile curled his lips into a breathtaking grin that blinded you with hope.

You were walking a fine line. A line you had been tethering on the edge of for months.

In the past year of your acquaintance, you often thought that there was a certain grace in the way he moved—his controlled, deliberate gestures, and the way he carried himself with confidence and poise. Every action seemed purposeful, reflecting the meticulous nature with which he clearly approached life.

So when his pinky grazed the side of your hand before he swallowed his pride and took your hand in his, you smiled through your sigh of relief. His mind had waved the white flag long enough for him to be vulnerable, long enough for him to silently tell you that you weren’t a rash decision, but a carefully considered one.

You knew he wouldn’t come out and say it in so many words. He was not that kind of man. But the gesture itself carried a profound weight– a silent confession of his desire to be closer to you regardless of the consequences.

You squeezed his hand, and he squeezed yours right back.

Whatever happened, you’d face it together.

You were breathless as his eyes glittered with the hope that was reflected in yours. Everyone around you was focused on the spectacle above but he was the only thing you wanted to admire, the only fascinating light in the darkness of the night you needed to see.

Sure, the fireworks were nice enough. But people who loved the scintillating aspect of fireworks had just never gotten a glimpse of a happy Aaron.

You loved how the lights above adorned his face as he cautiously scooted closer.

For a man who could reduce monsters to whimpering messes, as your dad often put it, he was strangely timid when it was just you two.

Although under normal circumstances you could read his nervousness when he tapped his thumb and index together, a coping mechanism to self-soothe he had probably acquired young, you could not read his expression right now.

His jaw was clenching and unclenching, the muscles and veins in his neck protruded as he gritted his teeth. He wasn’t angry, the smile that tugged at his lips and the absence of his signature frown indicated that much. But he was not carefree either.

Lust and apprehension, desire and fear, affection and worry, or confidence and restlessness… They were all plausible and contradictory possibilities.

Aaron Hotchner was a paradox. It was one of the first things you had realized about him, and it was what always made you come back to him for more, despite everything that told you not to. His outer and inner beauty had left you smitten, completely head over heels for a man who had never even kissed you.

You still fondly remembered when he had called you a troublemaker only hours after meeting you.

You had yet to shed that title after all these months. He had cursed and called you a brat earlier tonight before he suggested coming here to watch the fireworks with you.

He had scoffed when you had mentioned it felt like date material, then called you incorrigible.

Another justified adjective.

You two couldn’t happen. You had been telling yourself that for over a year.

But here you were, wondering how you got so lucky to get to witness the way his features softened with each explosion, how his smile illuminated his face with a radiance that rivaled the pleasantly bright sky.

You finally looked down, witnessing how perfectly your fingers fit together. His hand was much bigger than yours. It felt like the spaces between his fingers had been made just for you.

You risked a glance at him, finding his face covered in childlike wonder and joy. When he suggested fireworks, you wondered what it was about them that made him want to see them, but it was clear this brought him back to a time when life hadn’t gotten to him yet.

He had a pure and good heart, and as bruised as it had been before, he was finally telling you he was ready to risk it and give it to you with a look that left nothing to doubt.

No one had ever looked at you like this, so freely projecting their affection for you in their glistening eyes.

You leaned in closer, your voice barely above a whisper as you spoke, your breath mingling with his in the night air. “It was about time you made a move,” you teased.

He shrugged, looking back up at the sky. “I’m just holding your hand. It looked lonely sitting there.”

You chuckled, hiding your face in his chest, smelling his expensive cologne all over his shirt. Within weeks of meeting him, you had started to associate his scent with safety and comfort, and today was no exception.

His breath hitched as your laugh was muffled by his chest, as you hooked your arm around his waist.

You loved laughing at his bad jokes, you had since the very beginning because something incredible happened each time you laughed for him.

His eyes shone with pride, elation both elegant and irresistible taking over his features.

“I thought you had finally fallen victim to my charms,” you mused.

He chuckled, his other hand coming to rest on your lower back as your legs intertwined with his.

“Keep on hoping,” he whispered.

He pulled you flush against his chest, with no hesitation in sight, and your body immediately found solace against his solid frame. You could feel the steady rise of his chest with each breath, a gentle rhythm that lulled you into a state of contentment and peacefulness.

For all the chaos in your head, your heart was awfully calm as it beat in sync with his.

“I’m sorry it took me a while,” he said solemnly.

“You don’t have to–” you began, but he cut you off with a small shake of his head.

“I need you to know that it wasn’t you,” he explained. “It was me. Me and my fears. You always bring light in the darkest corners of my world, my sweet girl, and I didn’t want to mess that up,” he muttered against your temple, his lips lingering on your skin.

Aaron had called you many things before now, but this one was the most precious of them all.

You gave a firm squeeze to his love handle before your hand came to rest in the middle of his chest, “You won’t mess it up; I won’t let you,” you promised, no doubt in mind that you’d be like gum under his shoe starting now.

He pinched your hip softly, almost tickling you. You squealed sharply, making passersby and nearby couples look in your direction.

“Shut up with the cuteness. I had a speech prepared,” he asserted with a casual air of authority that made you tremble in your darkest fantasies.

“Sorry, sir,” you quipped with a smirk, emphasizing the last word.

His jaw tightened as his hold on you slackened enough to look into your eyes, his own darting between yours. They were dark and heavy with something more, and something almost dangerous in the shadows, but as he cocked his head to avert his gaze, you felt the tension leave his body.

“I just wanted to say, you made me realize it’s not that scary to be seen.”

You cupped his cheek, offering him a heartwarming smile. “Thank you for letting me see you.”

He closed his eyes as if to savor it, and you let your thumb caress his rough cheek.

You brought his face close to yours, your lips only inches away when he pulled back.

“We shouldn't,” he breathed.

Oh, please.

Yes, we should.

“I don't care,” you assured him.

He shook his head. His expression was still tender and affectionate, but there was something dark swimming beneath the surface of those warm brown eyes. “I mean not here.” He gave you a wolfish grin. “If I get to kiss you, I won’t be able to stop.”

Oh.

He leaned down and pecked the little spot next to your ear. You shivered in delight. He smelled like a mix of mahogany and old money.

“My place is close. We can probably still see the fireworks from there,” he murmured.

You looked nervous as he picked you up to sit you on his kitchen counter, parting your legs with gentle hands so he could come closer.

You allowed him to invade your personal space, your legs going around his waist almost instinctively, but when he had caressed your leg up and down, you tensed up.

You still kissed him back, your lips met his as hungrily as before when you had pulled his shirt out of his pants, but something had shifted when you had glanced around his apartment. Aaron followed your gaze when your eyes had stopped wandering.

You had found a picture of Haley and Jack.

Jack loved you, it had never been an issue and he didn’t think it would ever be, but Haley loomed over you with her sacredness, and he was helpless to do anything but wait you out as you processed it.

The love he held for Haley was the only one you knew could never be dismissed. But what you didn’t know was that he already loved you so much that it should have terrified him to think of how that love would only grow. It should have, but it didn't.

Aaron didn’t know how to love anyone halfway. When he let himself love, it was fiercely and without reservation. His love for you would consume him eventually, and he was happy to let the undercurrent take him if it meant your arms ended up around his neck and your lips ended up on his.

Still, Aaron would never push you if you were unsure, and if nothing happened tonight, he was fine with that. Whether he got to see you naked or not tonight, whether he would have to relieve the pressure in his pants alone at some point or glare at his erection to make it go away, he never wanted you to question your place in his life.

You weren’t a fling or a hot piece of ass. He didn’t even know how to care less.

He would not discard you when the excitement of this forbidden adventure faded or the consequences came. He would face your dad with you once you were ready for that. He would ask your dad for your hand in marriage if you wanted him half as much as he wanted you.

The burning intensity of the kiss lowered to a simmering heat, and it occurred to him that he could provide you some comfort.

He cradled your face into his big hands, watching you smile at him with so much love in your eyes, with a sparkling gaze more alluring than any fireworks could ever be. He had never felt more positive that this was right. That you were right for him.

“You know, I've liked you ever since I saw you laugh at your mom's poor attempt to bake you a birthday cake.”

You giggled at the memory, that travesty of a baked good evaporating the discomfort. Tension left your shoulders, your jaw slackened, and you were bubbly and warm again.

“You have me, Aaron.”

Nothing quite took his breath away like you saying his name.

“Do I?” he asked, surveying your features for any sign of uncertainty.

“Anything you want,” you promised. “I'm yours tonight.”

He didn’t stop to wonder whether you’d be his after tonight, too drunk on you effectively mewling his name as he rocked his hips into you.

Aaron had never known he could be too hard to care about semantics.

He drove his hips into you a few times, making you purr his name like a melody right before you buried your hand in his hair, making him hum and drool in the crook of your neck.

He gathered his spit with his tongue, licking your skin and finding out how delicious you were. He’d drag his tongue all over you if you let him.

His cock twitched, and if you continued to moan as he suckled on your pulse point, he’d come in his pants like a teenager.

He grabbed both of your wrists, hanging on tight and looking at you with appetite.

“Sweet girl, be quiet for me or I won’t be able to focus on you,” he warned.

“Aaron–” you whined, grinding against his throbbing erection.

“Hmm… As much as I’ve dreamt of having you shove that pussy against me, I think I’d rather take my time with you.” He bit your neck, making your loud whimpers his new favorite sound. “You get me so hard I can’t even think straight. I can barely feel my legs.” He thrusted against your clothed core again, and a violent shudder made you squirm on the counter. He braced his hand on each side of your hips, looking deeply into your eyes, finding you smirking despite your flushed skin and damp legging.

“That’s because you’re an old man. You know, arthritis is the real silent killer,” you joked.

Of all the times to remind him of your very twisted sense of humor-

A cackle erupted from your throat and he chuckled dryly. “Such a brat,” he chided, the darkness of his eyes broken by his glimmer of amusement at your determination to bait him now of all times.

“Do you need me to massage your wrinkled extremities?” Your eyes had a mischievous air to them. You then palmed his erection. “Or just this very tense one?”

He groaned as his knees buckled under him, making him surge closer to you, restraining your movements with his large hands pressed over yours. “Oh, god.”

“My old man, do we need to sit you down?”

With the last of his strength, he picked you up and went towards his armchair, the one facing the balcony where the fireworks were still in full effect.

He sat down, shifting you to put you over his knee. “Sweetheart, I’m going to teach you some manners.”

You wiggled into a more stable position before turning and saying with the utmost innocence, “I’ve always been told to respect the elderly.”

You could barely finish your sentence, let alone laugh at your quip when his hand came up and slapped you fully on the ass.

He watched your laughter die in your throat, replaced by a delicious whimper. He caressed the place he had hit, softly brushing his palm against the soft material of your leggings before his other hand settled around your throat. You moaned as he gave it a gentle squeeze, and he felt pre-cum drip from his slit.

“What happened to your tongue?” he mocked. You said nothing, opting to nod eagerly as he lifted his hand.

He smacked you again, watching you roll your head back as pleasure and pain melted on your skin.

You proffered him your throat so sweetly, and he squeezed it gently, the contrast between his soft hold on your neck and his firm grip on your ass flooding your cotton leggings.

Fucking leggings. They did nothing to hide how beautiful you were.

Your cheeks warm from the flush of blood to your skin, and your moans filled the room around him. The fireworks were sounding off triumphantly, coating the room in flashes of color, yet his eyes never wavered from you.

You were exquisite.

“Did you learn your lesson, kitten?” He let his hand wander to your lower back before he took a handful of ass and squeezed.

“Aaron- Aaron-” You chanted his name, begging for more.

You were so pliant. So perfect. Just for him.

“Or do you need more?”

“Aaron–”

“How badly do you want me?” he whispered, his voice rough with arousal.

“Please don’t make me beg,” you gasped.

“Sweetheart, I’ll do as I damn please.”

He saw an opening, quite literally, as your legs parted to try and grind on his knee, searching for release, for friction, for anything he wouldn’t provide. He repositioned you, but he slipped a hand between your warm folds, feeling how damp the leggings were where you tried to swallow his hand between your thighs.

“Soaking your leggings already,” he said, his voice a strange mix of stifled pride and feigned disapproval.

His own arousal started to ache, but he was focused on you. He would make sure you’d remember this, that you’d craved this, that you’d ask for more, and that you’d be his more than just tonight.

“I think you need more,” he decided aloud for you.

“Please– please–” you pleaded, pride vanishing as he continued to drag the pads of his fingers over your soaked leggings.

It took all of his considerable resolve to resist you, but he was determined to have you reduced to a mess of incoherent sounds harmoniously coating his ears.

“I asked you to be quiet, sweetheart.”

You moaned loudly at the gravel of his scolding voice.

It seemed he would have to keep you quiet himself.

He smacked your ass once more, and this time, instead of squeezing your throat, he brought his fingers towards your mouth, tapping on your lips and hoping you’d get the message.

You opened your mouth so obediently, and he sank his fingers inside, stuffing you with his hand as best as he could, keeping you quiet at last.

“See, that wasn’t so hard,” he teased as he pushed them in a little deeper.

You sucked on his fingers in agreement, and he hissed loudly, smacking your ass which had to be sore by now. He longed to be buried inside you and feel how wet you were for him.

As much as he enjoyed taming the brat out of you, he knew there was no ill intent behind your jokes. You teased the ones you loved, and he was honored to be included in that group. Besides, he found you so funny that he had a hard time wanting to punish you for it. He compromised with himself by keeping you quiet as his fingers toyed with the damp fabric.

“Are you going to be a good girl now or do I need to shut you up with something else?”

You moaned loudly in response.

His dick throbbed and twitched, and he would have to think about his mother’s oatmeal not to come if he felt your lips around his length.

He removed his fingers from your mouth, propping you up on his lap as his hands roamed over your back soothingly.

“I’m going to be good, I swear,” you said with the same coy smile that had just gotten you put over his knee.

You let your body crash against his, and he hugged you close as he stroked your back.

He smiled, knowing your silence was a testament to your desire for him to touch you.

“Prove it, sweet girl. Prove me how good you can be.”

You really should not have been surprised that his cock was this big; that he would fill your mouth without even having to try.

His hips moved of their own accord the more you sucked, and the more saltiness coated your tongue, the more his thighs quivered, the more his groans made your chest swell with pride.

“Such a good girl,” he cooed.

His praise only spurred you on, lapping at his tanginess before you sucked harder on the head, flattening your tongue on the underside of his cock to make his hips buck.

“See, the thing is, men like blowjobs for the peace and quiet–” he tried to say before a bob of your head halted his words.

You were terribly good at this game, and you had no intention of losing. You fondled his balls to keep him quiet, deep-throating him in one go. You choked on him, swallowing around him as you tried to breathe through your nose and tears welled in your eyes.

When you looked up at him, he collected the spit on your chin with his thumb and he practically purred. “Ahh, fuck–”

His eyes were set on you, and as much as his tender gaze made your skin prickle in delight, he had been so intent on seeing the fireworks earlier that you stopped sucking him off, looking up at him from under your eyelashes.

You pointed behind you at the sky still lighting up in various colors, wondering how long you had until D.C. grew quiet. “Wouldn’t want you to miss the show,” you remarked, still pumping his wet length with your hand, tracing the vein on his shaft with your tongue.

He cursed your name, but he was already slack-jawed and shaking, his dark eyes hooded with lust.

He grabbed your arms to bring you up and he lunged forward, his mouth landing on your wet lips, searing you in a fiery kiss as his tongue swirled with yours.

You sat on his lap, kissing him back with the raw desire that overwhelmed you as his fingers touched your spine, grazing it with featherlight touches amidst the scorching passion that was setting you on fire from head to toe.

He grinned from ear to ear with a glint in his eyes. “We’re not going to miss a minute of that show, sweetheart.”

He disappeared down the hallway, leaving you panting and painfully aroused. Moments later, he came back with his cock wrapped in a condom, and before you could joke about his eagerness to fuck you before his bedtime, he brought you out on the balcony, making you brace your hands on the railing as he entered you swiftly from behind.

He was so incredibly stiff and large that the breach caught you off-guard, making you whimper as he stretched you out without preparation.

“You were about to say something, my dear brat. I had to shut you up,” he scolded, a soft hand patting your back.

You were wet enough for him to be able to slide right in, but the pain of the intrusion blinded you like a firework had gone off inches from your nose. It felt absolutely addicting how he had carefully mixed pleasure and pain.

“You’re clenching so hard right now–” he added, his hand finding your pussy and resting there. “You’re drenching me and I’m all wrapped up. You’re making a mess, dirty girl.”

He gently flicked your clit, making you shudder until all you could feel was the tingle in your extremities.

You saw people under you, walking in and out of the building.

“Aaron–” you tried to warn.

He didn’t relent, his finger faster on your clit. “Shh, my sweet girl. We wouldn’t want people to look up, now, would we?”

Holy shit.

“Tell me when I can move,” he croaked, his tone betraying how close he already was.

He continued to make you feel good with a finger on your clit, making you incredibly aware that you had to hold yourself up on the railing.

“Go slow,” you panted.

Fortunately, Aaron was done with the taming, and he thrusted so gently, you wondered if he was pacing himself or actually making love to you.

Those words had never made sense before now. You had fucked plenty, but this was different. He was sweet, caring, and thoughtful in the way he was taking you, and while he had entered you impatiently, he was taking his time to savor this, to make you feel good.

He hit your g-spot each time he fully sheathed his length inside you, and with his finger on your clit, with the depth of your feelings for him, it didn’t take long for you to tremble and bite your upper arm to refrain from screaming his name into the air.

“Mine. You are mine,” he grunted.

You nodded, doing your best to keep your face from hitting the railing as he plunged into you once more. “I am yours.”

“You. Are. Mine. Not just tonight,” he drawled.

Apparently, when you had said you were his tonight, he had taken it as a personal offense.

“Aaron, I am yours for as long as you’ll have me,” you whispered.

You usually made jokes to make light of serious situations, but not now. He deserved your most sincere self.

He rubbed at your clit with renewed vigor, making the coil in your stomach tighten and rip before you could warn him. His hips stilled almost at the same time, and he hissed curses and praises of your name as you felt him fill the condom with his hot seed. Your clenching walls choked around him, milking his own orgasm out of his balls until every last drop had been emptied into the rubber.

Aaron grabbed you and moved you inside, slipping out of you and making you miss the full feeling already. He kissed you tenderly, keeping you close to him.

He was about to kneel when you stopped him, cupping his face with adoration. “I am way too tired for this,” you admitted with a laugh. Admitting your feelings for someone was draining enough without the mindblowing orgasm.

“And here I thought I’d have to stay up past my bedtime with you,” he teased.

“Let me nap and we’ll see.”

“Okay, sweetheart,” he agreed, taking your hand and leading you towards his room. “After all, you were such a good girl. You deserve a reward.”

You looked over your shoulder once again, seeing what appeared to be the grand finale of the fireworks for tonight.

People often say they see stars when the sex is really good, but as far as you were concerned, fireworks were way better.

Nothing was sweeter than your essence, nothing was more delightful than the sounds you were making in his bedroom as if his name was the best chorus you had ever sung.

He purred the second you pulled his hair as you came, thrashing against his face as you drenched him with your nectar. He didn’t stop until the only thing you could do was mewl his name over and over again, your thighs squeezing his head in and keeping him firmly in place.

He was proud to see that you had made a mess of his sheets. He would have to change them sometime before he would wash you along with himself, but that was an issue for another time after he had shown you just how beautiful you were to him.

He lapped at your juices, nestling his face between your thighs before slowly trailing his lips up to seal your lips into a hungry kiss, making you taste what he had gathered on his tongue. He hummed as you entangled yourself with him even more, his hips still searching for friction even though he was empty.

He lay on his side, loving how you instantly cuddled into his arms. He kissed the top of your head as you still rode waves of pleasure, stroking your back with his fingertips.

Your hands were holding onto his waist, and he had to hide his face in the crook of your neck when he felt you grab a handful of him there. You buried a hand into his hair, making him groan against your skin in the process.

“Why are you touching my love handles?” he breathed.

“They’re incredibly attractive. Just more of you to love.”

Love?

Aaron was taken aback enough to frown and look into your eyes, finding no mischievous glint or hint of teasing anywhere.

“You heard me correctly,” you added, cradling his face as if he was precious.

He kissed your lips in place of a reply, pouring what he could into a gesture rather than words, and he held you firmly in place, pinning you under his weight.

He pulled back just enough to grin at you, his eyes no doubt sparkling with adoration.

“Should we get in the shower?” he suggested.

You followed him back into his bedroom, and he offered you a tee shirt with a heartwarming smile right before he put on his pajamas. You pulled it on quickly, the cold air of the room replaced by his warm scent. He sat on the edge of his bed, watching you tug at the hem of his shirt with one of his strange half-smiles.

“Will you stay?” he asked, his eyes begging you not to leave.

“Do you want me to?”

He nodded, his brows furrowed but his eyes never straying from yours.

“Then I’m staying. But you'd better treat me to some waffles in the morning.”

There was no doubt in your mind that you would have stayed whether he had offered or not. His actions spoke louder than whatever he could say, and it was obvious he wanted you here.

“Oh, sweet girl, I promise there will be waffles.”

He offered you his hand, and you accepted it, allowing him to tug you into bed with him.

You snuggled into his side the second you were under the fresh covers, finding his warmth and cuddly body to be everything you had ever wanted.

You woke up entangled in his limbs a few hours later. It was still dark outside. The city had finally come to a halt, and silence hung in the air.

You glanced at the alarm clock, careful to not disturb him.

3 am. You were familiar with the peacefulness night provided.

His face was plastered in the crook of your neck and blowing hot air onto it. You gently caressed his hair, making him groan sleepily and his eyelashes tickled your skin. He planted a gentle kiss on your neck before he traced your jaw with soft sleepy kisses.

“What time is it?” he muttered.

“Still night. Sleep,” you replied, patting his head and massaging his scalp.

“Don’t leave,” he pleaded, clutching you so tightly you weren’t sure where his body ended and yours started.

“I won’t.”

He groaned and his soft snores filled the room again within seconds.

You held him in your arms, vowing you’d never let go before he did because tonight he had called you his, and that was by far your favorite thing to be called.

-------

taglist: @ssamorganhotchner @mrs-ssa-hotch @ssa-tahlia-obsessions @rousethemouse @criminalskies @persephonewritessometimes @hotchsdoormat @sweetnightowl @morgthemagpie @a-cloud-for-dreams @hausoflove @simp4f1 @alexxavicry @angelmather1 @hotchsdharma

236 notes · View notes

ssa-hotchnershoney · 10 months

Note

I have the filthiest request for dbf!aaron having his kitchen renovated; it’s taken weeks and months and he never told you why but once it’s all done he asks you over to try his new kitchen out so you pack some ingredients for homemade pizzas and go over to his place where he basically tells you he’s starving but throws your ingredients aside, and when he throws you around his waist and up onto the counter that you realise why he got the height of all the counters changed in the first place

It is now the PERFECT height for him to fuck you on it. And fuck you he does. Also, he wasn’t starving for pizza 😉

(I hope this makes sense I fr woke up from my sleep thinking about this and I’ll pass out again in a minute now 😵‍💫🥱)

Rome, you never cease to amaze me. Thank you for requesting this 💙

Great Investments

AO3

MINORS DNI

Pairing: Dbf!Hotch x Fem!Reader

Tags: Smut, Fluff, Praise Kink, Attempt at Humor, Age Difference, Oral Sex, Creampie, Unprotected Penis In Vagina Sex, Kitchen Sex, Sex, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Romantic Fluff, Short & Sweet, I'm Bad At Tagging, Not Beta Read

Word count: 1.7k

Aaron had hired a contractor to oversee the renovations in his kitchen, but it was fairly difficult to believe he didn’t possess carpentry skills and abilities as he drilled himself into you, effectively hammering his hips against you until the only sounds in the room were the fruits of his labor.

You couldn’t say it was a combined effort. He was erecting this invisible structure inside you all by himself, building you up with firm concrete thrusts, and while your foundations were a bit shaky, you had never felt more grounded than when his lips found yours.

Your moans and his grunts melted into a fiery kiss, and Aaron started to make you gasp each time he hit this particular nail right on the head, grazing the sweetest spot inside you no one had ever succeeded to reach quite like him.

It then hit you all at once.

He had tried to fuck you on this counter before, but he had nearly busted his hip before he had just taken you from behind, making you brace on the counter.

“My old man, did you have your kitchen altered so we could do this?” you asked, your voice trembling the more he pounded into you.

You couldn’t even tease him correctly, pleasure coursing through your veins.

He just beamed at you, his heartwarming smile rocking you to your core.

“No more jokes about my fragile hips,” he groaned.

You tightened your hold on him with your legs, his waist trapped by your quivering limbs. He stroked one of your legs gently, stopping his thrusts long enough to look into your eyes with so much love you almost came on the spot.

You cradled his face tenderly, rubbing your thumb on his cheek. “You asked for my input throughout, and I love your new kitchen, I truly do. But I’m happy to fuck on every other surface. You didn’t have to do all this,” you explained, gesturing at the perfect modern kitchen all around you.

This was a kitchen he had made his contractor build with your suggestions in mind, clearly.

From the marble countertops to the new kitchen appliances he had bought, this whole kitchen reeked of you, of your recommendations.

Ever since you had stumbled into his place earlier, you had started picturing living here, and you had imagined a whole life with him and Jack around this kitchen, from cooking and baking, to just sharing a glass of wine with the love of your life. You wanted all of it, and all of this was surely his way of telling you he wanted it, too. At least, you thought so.

He leaned and kissed you softly before he started tracing your jaw with his lips, rendering your thoughts pointless and silent, making you desperate for him to move again, for him to shatter you into nothingness.

You shivered as he pulled out partially, admiring the space where your bodies were joined right before he bottomed out inside you again. He pumped his length in and out of you until the only thing you could do was hold on and pray for a total collapse.

He had one hand next to your hip, and the warmth radiating from his paw was intoxicating as his other hand gripped your thigh so firmly, you were sure there would be evidence of his digits on your skin.

“Sweetheart, help me out here,” he pleaded as sweat gathered on his brow, his rhythm faltering a little.

He was trying not to lose it before you; a tell-tale sign was the melody of small treacherous whines that escaped his beautiful lips.

You put your hand between you, rubbing at your clit adeptly, pinching the little nub just like he often did for you.

“Aar–”

A huge smirk appeared on his face, his cocky attitude always on display when you were about to come. “You always turn into a pirate right before you–” he grunted.

His fucking sex voice. It never failed to make your toes tingle.

You interrupted his train of thought as you shook violently, as the coil ruptured and you came tumbling down, your head dissolving into an empty mold of what used to be a home for a functioning brain.

He nuzzled his face in the crook of your neck as he came shortly after you, a violent explosion taking place within your walls that left you clenching around his dick. You buried your fingers in his hair out of habit, and he shuddered instantly, his cock twitching aggressively inside you, carefully filling the hole with his width and the last of his cum.

You held him through it because his wobbly knees always threatened to give up on him when he fucked you standing up.

“I love you, handsome,” you whispered, your lips lingering on his temple. You grabbed his head to look at him, finding his beautiful sparkling eyes dazed with love.

You planted a small kiss on his forehead, his arms coming around you to pull you closer. “I love you so much, sweetheart.”

He practically draped himself over you then, making you lie back to indulge him and the cold marble bit your back as his weight came to rest on top of you.

How you loved post-coital Aaron. He was always overwhelmingly clingy, unable to let you go, and it wasn’t rare that he kipped on top of you for a few minutes once he was spent.

Each time, you stroked his back gently with your nails, watching as goosebumps erupted and painted his skin.

Aaron lazily kissed your neck before he moved away, slipping out of you delicately. He brought you up with him, his hands parting your thighs before a mischievous glint flashed across his eyes.

He sank to his knees, and before you could protest, his tongue was driving in and out of you. He replaced his tongue with his fingers in no time, his lips then finding your clit as his tongue flicked over it, his teeth nibbling on it before he sucked on it so harshly that you saw stars.

You thrummed with pleasure, your legs strangling his face so he’d stay there. You were close, you would reach your peak within seconds and–

He stopped and kissed your thighs gently. He often made you wonder how he could pound you and leave you with delightful bruises, yet at the same time, cover you in tender kisses.

“Hmm… Just the right height for this, too. This might be the best investment I’ve ever made,” he said, his voice hoarse and rumbling.

You whined, the sound desperate and needy, and he cocked his head before he dove back in with renewed vigor.

The bastard. He knew how much you loved his voice, and how much it affected you.

You mewled his name, thrashing against his face, pulling his hair so his face would be closer, so his nose would finally graze your skin. He whimpered, and you opted to smooth your hand over his roots to apologize, but he shook his head, letting you know it was alright.

You couldn’t talk or think, rendered a moaning mess as he continued his assault.

His fingers arched into you, finding that sweet spot that made you incoherent and mumbling syllables that you weren’t sure existed.

“Are you going to soak my face, sweetheart? Coat my fingers? Fuck– Please make a mess on my new counters.”

You were close, you could feel your pussy trying to swallow his fingers whole, and he sucked on your clit once more, darting his tongue over it as your juices started to slip out on his chin.

Your body tensed and the coil ripped, leaving you panting, trying to articulate his name and tell him how good he was to you, but you could only gasp as you came, and Aaron didn’t relent.

Instead, he apparently decided to coax another orgasm out of you quickly after this one, and his fingers and mouth didn’t fail to bring you over the edge again, blinding you as your vision blacked out, as you almost drowned him in a sea of your pleasure, a spurt of wetness flooding his face and easing the dull throbbing in your lower stomach to nothing.

He lapped at your fluttering cunt like a parched man, swirling his tongue over your clit a few times before he shoved his tongue you, humming as he tasted you like he always did.

He brought you closer to the edge of the counter, your pussy and ass completely bare for him, easy to reach.

Your breath hitched when he nestled his nose between your ass cheeks, and you purred when he dragged his tongue from your asshole to your clit, surging forward but Aaron held you firmly in place, preventing your fall.

You started squirming as oversensitivity made your nerves sting, and Aaron breathed you in before he stopped his movements.

You registered delicate kisses on your warm thighs as he made his way up, hiding a smile as you saw him wince when his knees protested and cracked. His wet fingers finally settled on your waist and squeezed as you slowly came back to the here and now, to him.

“Good girl,” he cooed. “Always so good for me.”

You shivered at the praise, finding him smiling at you. He leaned down and captured your lips in a tender kiss, making you taste him and you on his tongue as his damp chin coated yours with your mixed juices.

“This kitchen might just become my favorite place,” you said, cupping his face into your hands and caressing his cheeks with your thumbs. “And don’t you dare make a misogynistic joke about how women belong in the kitchen because I’m not going to be your little housewife, Hotchner,” you added, smirking at him.

He chuckled, opting to plant a kiss on your nose. “Maybe not. But I’m hoping this will become your house, and that you will–”

You jabbed your finger into his chest in warning, finding his heartbeat steady and strong. “You stop that thought right now.”

“Why?” he mused, tilting his head and waiting for an answer.

The beautiful bastard.

“I love you too much to joke around about this kind of stuff.”

“Sweetheart, I would never joke about this. This kitchen is the best investment I made… That is… Until I buy you a pretty ring you can wear.” He paused, but the only thing you could do was blink silently, trying to comprehend that he was as serious about you as you were about him. “Anyway, shall we order in? I am starving.”

--------

taglist: @ssa-tahlia-obsessions @ssamorganhotchner @mrs-ssa-hotch @rousethemouse @criminalskies @persephonewritessometimes @hotchsdoormat @sweetnightowl @morgthemagpie @a-cloud-for-dreams @hausoflove @simp4f1 @alexxavicry @angelmather1 @hotchsdharma @hausofwhores @show-your-fangs

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ssa-hotchnershoney · 10 months

Text

Ten Minutes

Fem!Reader x Hotch | When Aaron gets home from a case late at night, you join him for a shower before getting cozy in bed together.

Warnings: 🤭+😜 Nudity, and mention of steaminess (you shower together but nothing *happens*), just lots of fluff!

Word Count: 1758

Masterlist

I wrote this a while ago but as luck would have it I’ve found myself posting it on Thomas’ birthday, so I’m going to consider this a little Happy Birthday to the man who brought Aaron Hotchner to life ♥️

**********

You and Aaron had made an agreement early on in your relationship that no matter what time he got home from a case, he would always make sure you knew. If it was during the day when you were still at work, he’d call you. If it was late at night, and you were already fast asleep, he’d always wake you up with a gentle kiss against the side of your head.

Tonight was no different, as he gently closed the front door and flipped the lock, setting all of his things down on the couch as he passed it. Silently making his way across the bedroom, he reached the side of the bed and couldn’t help but smile at the sight of you, all cozy and warm, the covers pulled right up under your chin.

He almost didn’t want to wake you. The truth was, most times he didn’t want to; you always looked so peaceful. But one thing he loved even more than seeing you this restful, was the gentle, “hmmm? Aaron?” you always cooed as you woke from your slumber.

Reaching his hand out, he gently caressed your hair, revelling in the familiar feeling; he’d missed you so much. Leaning down, he carefully placed that same tender kiss against your temple like always. With his hand on the back of your head, and his lips connected to your skin, you stirred slightly.

With your eyes still closed, he continued running his fingers through your hair gently, as you finally broke from the dreamworld and cooed that same, “hmmm? Aaron?” your voice all sleepy and warm.

He couldn’t help but smile, his heart melting at the sound of your voice. “It’s me,” his voice was low and soft, “I’m home.”

“Mmmm,” you hummed, your words slurring together, “wha-time’s it?”

Pulling his hand away from your hair, he checked his watch, “2:30.”

You groaned, nuzzling your exhausted body further under the covers, “come to bed.” Your words were a little more articulate this time, your mind finally awake enough to be so.

Laughing softly, he admitted, “I will, I’m just going to shower first.” You groaned again; you didn’t care if it had been a few days since he’d last showered, you just wanted to hold him close. Reluctantly pulling one of your arms out from under the covers, you reached for him, and that’s when he noticed you were wearing one of his sweaters. His heart swelled in his chest, knowing that he was still able to comfort you, even when he was hundreds of miles away. He took your hand in his, leaning down and kissing your knuckles gently. “I’ll be quick.”

Sighing heavily, finally opening your eyes, you glanced up at him, a pout on your face.

“Ohhh what’s that look for?” he teased.

“I just want you to come hereeee..” you whined playfully, eliciting yet another laugh from him.

“You’re so cute when you’re like this,” he leaned down once more and kissed the pout on your lips, “I promise I won’t be long.”

You huffed in defeat, “okay fine, you’ve got 10 minutes, Mister.”

“Yes ma’am,” he responded playfully, placing one more kiss against your knuckles before letting go of your hand.

It wasn’t long before you heard the water running. You’d tried, you truly had, to just stay put and let him have his shower, and wait for him to come to you. It was silly, that now, with him home and simply on the other side of the door, somehow you felt even farther away from him than you did when he was gone. The longer you laid there, alone in bed, the harder it became to resist.

Flipping the covers off, you slid your legs over the side of the bed and quietly padded your way across the floor. Pushing the bathroom door open, you saw the silhouette of your husband through the steamy glass of the shower door, his back turned to you. You took a second to admire his broad frame, his biceps and shoulders flexing breathtakingly as he scrubbed the shampoo into his hair.

It was always so effortless, how easily he could get you going. When he was trying, all it took was one look, a slight smirk on his face, the lust undeniable in his eyes, and you were done for. When he wasn’t trying, it was everything from the way he ran his thumb across his knuckles when he was thinking, or the way he ran his fingers through his hair to push it out of his face, to the way he came home after a tough case with his tie loosened and his sleeves rolled up. Or times like this, while sure, he may be completely undressed, his ass looking mighty fine every time he shifted his weight, but he clearly wasn’t trying to seduce you.

You took a deep breath and pushed all those feelings aside, knowing neither of you had the energy for that right now. Genuinely all you wanted was to hold him close again. “Aaron..” you spoke softly, not wanting to startle him.

Turning around, he was just about to rinse the shampoo out of his hair, when he took in your blurry figure through the steamy glass. “Sweetheart..” he trailed off through a soft laugh, “go back to bed. I’ll be there soon.”

You shook your head, gripping the hem of the sweater and pulling it over your head. “I want to join you..” The tone in your voice was a little more suggestive than you’d intended; all the thoughts you’d just had running though your mind, mixed with your still groggy state, made it difficult to hide.

Another soft laugh escaped his lips, “I’m so sorry my girl, I don’t know if I’m really up for, that, right now..” He spoke gently, the regret in his voice evident.

Shaking your head once again, you admitted honestly, “oh, no no, me either,” letting out a small laugh of your own. “I just want.. you..” you confessed. “I tried to be patient, I really did, but I just couldn’t wait until you were done..”

He smiled wide, deciding to poke fun at how easily you’d caved and decided to join him, “ahh yes, your willpower is a force to be reckoned with, honey.”

You stopped in your tracks, the sweater only halfway off and still hanging over one of your arms, as you did your best impression of the scowl he always wore on his face. “I haven’t seen you in 8 days and 13 hours, okay? You have to give me a bit of a break here.”

That got another laugh out of him as he finally tipped his head back and rinsed the suds from his hair, “Reid, is that you?”

Dropping the sweater to the floor and now working on your underwear, you teased right back, “don’t even try to convince me you weren’t keeping track either.”

Tying your hair up in a messy bun, you slid the shower door open to find him staring at you, a grin spread wide across his face as he admitted, “you’re right. I was.” He reached his hand out to you, and after you’d stepped in he slid the door shut, pulling you into his chest. “And it was actually 14 hours.”

With your palms flat against his sturdy chest, your eyes lit up as you gazed at him, “well there you go! It was that extra hour of waiting that made it impossible for me to go another minute longer.”

His smile was one of those smiles that consumes your entire body. The way his eyebrows rose slightly, the way he eyes glittered, and the way his nose crinkled as his cheeks lifted. The way his shoulders relaxed, the way his chest rose as he breathed deep, and the way his hands grabbed at the bare skin of your back, pulling you even closer.

Standing on your tiptoes, he leaned down to meet you halfway, the way you’d done so many times before it was now second nature. As your lips met, starved for what you’d both been craving for too long, you felt your body sigh. The feeling of his warmth this close to you again, finally, lit every nerve ending in your body on fire; but still, it wasn’t sexual. It was familiar, and comforting, and freeing.

Pressing one final kiss to his lips, you finally pulled back and held out your hand, asking playfully, “pass me the conditioner, please.” He raised an eyebrow at you, and that only egged you on, “we’ve got to get you cleaned up so we can get to bed. I said you had 10 minutes, remember?”

He laughed at that, leaning down and pressing a kiss to your forehead. “And here I thought you only wanted to see me naked,” he added with a wink.

You blushed slightly, but teased still, “hey, you’re getting a free show too, Hotchner.”

He couldn’t argue with you there, as he finally handed the bottle of conditioner over. Lathering your hands, you reached up and began massaging it through his hair, giving him the perfect opportunity to place more gentle kisses against your forehead, his hands grasping your hips gently.

It wasn’t long before his hair was rinsed out, and you may have insisted that he allow you to help with the body wash as well, to which he happily obliged. In no time you were both out of the shower, dried off, and making your way back into your shared bedroom.As you slipped into a new pair of underwear before pulling that same sweater back over your head, Aaron eased into a fresh pair of boxers.

Another thing you’d done countless times that was now second nature to you, was the way you gravitated towards each other as you climbed into bed. Once you were both under the covers, it was mere seconds before you were in each other’s embrace. With your arms curled into your chest, he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you tight to his chest.

Nuzzling your head into his neck, he always placed a gentle kiss against your hair before saying goodnight. Only this time, he added playfully, “is this better?”

Nodding your head, you confessed, “much better.”

A small chuckle rumbled in his chest before sticking to his routine; placing a kiss on top of your head, he whispered softly, “goodnight sweetheart, I love you.”

You hummed contentedly, “I love you, too, Aaron. Goodnight.”

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

Tag List: @ssamorganhotchner ; @ccristata ; @anlin2058 ; @sannunah28 ; @hotchgirlsummer ; @red-red-rogue ; @chibsytelford ; @hannahufflepuff ; @mrs-ssa-hotch ; @ivyflowers13 ; @rousethemouse ; @emobabeyy ; @yourdryadwife ; @boredelle ; @simp4f1 ; @hmett20 ; @soryuwifeyxx

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ssa-hotchnershoney · 10 months

Note

you hav an attitude on a case and afterward hotch takes you to his office and ~punishes~ you? thank youuu

Against Orders

‘Close the door.’

You couldn’t lie, the detachment in Aaron’s voice scared you just a little bit; you know that you’d screwed up during the case and you should have listened to Hotch’s orders but you also knew that if you had, another victim would have been added to the unsub’s already too-long list. The closed the door but hovered by the door still until Hotch looked up, raising an unimpressed brow at you. He didn’t need to speak for you to know what he meant and you moved into the room until you were standing in front of his desk.

‘What you did today was reckless, you put yourself and the rest of the team in danger when I’d already told you what the plan was but you decided to ignore me.’

‘Hotch, if I hadn’t have gone in there when I did, that woman would be dead right now, I’m sorry if you’re not happy that I went against orders but your orders were crap this time!’ Once you realised what you had said, you quickly stopped talking, not wanting to get yourself in more trouble.

‘Come round here,’ he said, nodding to his side to gesture where he meant.

‘Aaron,’

‘Here, (Y/N),’ his tone of voice left no room for protest so you quickly moved around the desk to stand at his side. He gently took your hand in his and it was as if a switch had flipped and he was no longer SSA Aaron Hotchner, Unit Chief of the BAU and your boss, but Aaron, your lovely boyfriend. ‘You really scared me tonight,’ he said quietly, running his thumb across the back of your hand. ‘Watching you run into that building on your own, I was terrified that he was going to kill you. That can’t happen, okay?’

‘I’m sorry,’ you said, moving to straddle his lap, his hands immediately wrapping around your waist, holding you tightly against him almost as if he was afraid that you’d slip through his fingers if he let go. ‘I just thought - ’

‘I know, baby,’ he cooed, running one of his hands up your back until his fingers tangled in the hair at the back of your head and roughly yanked your head back, pulling a sharp cry from your lips. ‘But you still went against my order which means I still need to punish you, how will you learn otherwise, hmm?’ The arm that was still wrapped around your waist pulled you even closer until your skirt had ridden up to your hips and your panty-covered pussy was resting on top of his cock which you could feel growing harder in his trousers. Pulling your arms up until they wrapped around his neck, he leaned forward and brushed his nose against your jawline. ‘Make yourself cum, right here, on my lap,’ he murmured into your ear and you felt dread pool in your stomach, knowing exactly how this was going to end.

‘Aaron, please,’ you tried to protest, only to be stopped by Aaron’s lips crashing against yours, your protests turning into quiet whimpers as you absentmindedly started to roll your hips against his.

‘It’s a punishment, baby,’ he said lowly against your lips, ‘you’re not supposed to get anything out of it.’ He moved his hands back down until they both had a vice like grip on your hips, pressing you harder against his lap as his hips started to work with you, groans and whimpers escaping the both of you until you felt yourself nearing the edge and you tried to quieten your moans and speed your hips up; hoping that Aaron wouldn’t realise.

Of course he would realise.

His hands lifted your body off of him, a frustrated cry escaping your lips as your orgasm was cut short. ‘You really think I wasn’t going to notice?’ he asked through a chuckle and you let out a whine, causing Aaron to chuckle again. ‘Now, we’re going to go home, and we’re going to repeat that as many times as I want until I feel that you’ve learnt your lesson.’

You were in for a long night.

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ssa-hotchnershoney · 10 months

Text

Thank You, Sir

Credits: Gif credits to @hqtchner, inspo credit to this request!

Summary: You don't know how to take a compliment, but Aaron is determined to teach you. Or, dom/sub punishment comfort fluff. Take that as you will

Pairing: Hotch x blank slate Fem!Reader (no use of y/n)

Word count: ~1.6k

Warnings: Kind of non-sexual (still 18+ due to their relationship. Kinky does not always equate to sexual, folks), housewife kink-ish, spanking, d/s dynamic, punishment, nondescript insecurities (aka I don't actually specify why reader can't take a compliment)

This is a little more lovey than I meant for it to get. Sorry about that :/

A/N: This fic is a bonus blurb of the Well Respected series! A part 2 of this is under consideration, so please let me know if you'd be interested in seeing what happens after the cameras quit rolling on this one :)

Find it on ao3 here, or under the cut. Happy reading <3

“Beautiful.” Aaron’s hand cracks down on your ass again, and you bite back a yelp.

“Three!”

His hand smooths over the sensitive skin, aching from just a few hits. “Are you sorry?”

Your whimpers aren’t falling on deaf ears; he just wants to hear you say it. “I’m sorry, sir!”

Aaron has you pulled over his lap, the skirt of your dress rucked up to reveal your ass. The underwear you’ve chosen is a cheeky thong style; emphasis on cheeky, because it’s covering almost nothing and Aaron is using that fact to his full advantage as he brings his hand down again.

“Gorgeous. I don’t think you’re too sorry yet, darling, but you will be. I promise.”

“Four!” You gasp out the word, reeling from the sting to your skin. This isn’t a sexual punishment; it isn’t serving to arouse you, it’s serving to teach you a lesson, and Aaron isn’t holding back.

“I don’t like this any more than you do,” he says, and you both know he’s lying. “Maybe next time, you’ll just say ‘thank you, sir’. That’s what a good girl would say, don’t you think?”

It feels like hours ago that Aaron got home from work to find you vacuuming the living room. All dolled up in a blue summer swing dress, with a square neckline that emphasized your chest slightly as you moved the vacuum back and forth.

Hours ago, that you had turned off the vacuum to greet him with a smile, and he had greeted you with, “You look irresistible.”

You had rolled your eyes and giggled a bit, and you didn’t see his smile drop into something a little more menacing when you said, “Oh, shut up.” It was an offhand comment, a slip of the tongue… the wrong thing to say.

It didn’t matter that your tone was playful. It didn’t matter that you shook your head as you said it, adjusting the neckline of your dress to sit a little higher as Aaron’s gaze dropped to your chest. What did matter was that your inability to take a compliment had turned into disrespect, and Aaron wouldn’t be tolerating any of that.

He hadn’t said another word as he moved to sit on the couch, pulling you along by the waist with a firm grip. You were positioned over his lap like a ragdoll, unsure of what was going on until he flipped your skirt up. “You aren’t a stupid girl, darling. You aren’t a rude girl,” he had murmured, somewhere between a fact and reassurance as he grabbed a handful of your ass and squeezed, “but you don’t know how to take a compliment. I’m going to teach you how. You’re going to learn your lesson.”

You’ve got a long history of brushing off compliments with an eye roll or a comment about how Aaron looks even better; it’s always been easier than acknowledging his praises, his remarks about how perfect he thinks you are. It’s a can of worms best left sealed, in your opinion, but Aaron is apparently through playing nice about it.

“Well?” Aaron’s voice is low, warningly low. “Don’t you think a good girl would say, ‘thank you, sir’ when she gets a compliment?”

His hand pauses on your skin, like he’s contemplating another strike before you speak in a hurry.

“Yes, sir! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean… I didn’t, I- thank you, sir!”

At least for now, it appears you’ve said the right thing; Aaron’s hand doesn’t move, and his thumb rubs little circles that soothe and deepen the pain, all at once. When he speaks, you’re surprised by his words. “Do you think I’m smart?”

The question throws you off guard, and you blink a couple of times out of sheer confusion. Is he feeling insecure? Does he really want to know? Are you walking into a trap? “Of course… of course you’re smart, you know that. I know you’re smart.”

“Well, that just doesn’t make sense, then,” he continues. His tone is faux-confused; yes, you’ve definitely walked into a trap. “Because when I think someone is smart, I listen to them. I respect their opinions, and I certainly don’t tell them to ‘shut up’ when they’re right. So tell me, darling… if I’m not very smart, that means you’re not irresistible, because I must be wrong. Do you still think that I’m smart?”

Oh, he’s smart. He’s a damn genius, actually, because he’s efficiently made you paint yourself into a corner. You could say that he’s wrong, that he’s an idiot, and you would be rewarded with so many bruises that it would be impossible to sit down for a month. You could say that he’s smart, and you would be agreeing with the compliments he adorns you with every time he spanks you.

“I…” His hand tenses, making the decision for you. “You’re smart, sir!”

Aaron’s hum sounds pleased; maybe he’s smiling now, at your admittance. “So what you’re saying is that I’m a smart man, and I’ve got a very gorgeous woman, don’t I?”

Does he expect you to just agree to that, point-blank? To nod and smile and call yourself gorgeous and irresistible and every other self-indulgent thing under the sun, just because he’s usually right about things? Is he serious?

The position of your body over Aaron’s lap means that he can’t see your face. But the hesitation written on it must be visible somehow, because his hand cracks down again and makes you cry out. “Hm? You’re sexy, sweetheart. Always, you’re always so sexy. And when you dress up like this… god, you don’t know what that does to me.”

“F-five, sir, I’m sorry…”

“Oh, it’s okay,” he soothes with a hand settling on your back. “I know it’s not easy, I know. Maybe you just don’t want to say it, hm? Maybe you don’t want me to think you’re conceited. Or maybe you really don’t believe it, and you don’t know how desirable you are. What is it?”

Aaron is a profiler. He figures things out in his own head for a living, and there’s no reason on earth for him to be saying all of this out loud. No reason for making you look this beast of insecurity in the eye. Except, of course, letting you know that he understands.

“I… sir, I…” Can’t say it, don’t want to, don’t make me.

Aaron hears what you don’t say, smoothing a hand over your ass again. “I know,” he repeats, and he lifts his hand up. “That’s why I’m going to drill it into your head. You’re ravishing.”

The hand comes down again, and it feels impossible to hurt more, but you do. “Six!”

“You’re perfect. You’re smart, funny, charming, sexy… you’re everything I want, sweet girl. Everything I could ever ask for, do you understand that?”

Each compliment brings another strike of skin with it, until you’re practically reduced to a puddle of whines and gasps. “S-seven, eight, nine!”

“Maybe you don’t believe it,” he says, with a little edge to his voice that tells you how much he hates the mere concept, even if he can’t do anything about it, “And if that’s the case, I can’t force you to believe me. But you do need to remember that I don’t lie, darling. When I tell you that you’re beautiful, that your clothes fit perfectly, that I love how your chest looks in your pretty dress… you need to believe that I’m telling you the truth.”

“Yes, sir, I’ll believe you, I promise, ten!” The next hit makes you wince, the bite of a calloused hand on raw skin. “I will, I will, I promise!”

“You don’t need to say it yourself, if you don’t want to,” Aaron promises, running his hand over your ass now in soothing circles. Contrary to the softening touch, his voice hardens a little. “But if I want to tell you that I love your tits, or your legs, or anything else, you’re going to accept the compliment. You are not going to tell me to ‘shut up’ again, and you will regret it if you try. Am I being clear?”

He’s crystal clear, and you can only nod in agreement until Aaron withdraws his hand and helps you sit up on his lap. When you wince in pain, he tsks with sympathy and brushes a kiss to your cheek as you speak. “Clear, sir. I’m sorry.”

“I know you are, and it’s okay. You’re just learning your lesson, darling. What are you going to say, the next time I compliment you?” He encourages you to speak with the rise of an eyebrow.

“I’m… I’m going to say, ‘thank you, sir’,” you tell him, and you would go through this whole thing all over again just to see the smile he grants at your words.

“Good girl,” Aaron whispers. “That’s exactly right. Okay, sweetheart, I think you’ve done enough learning for that part of that lesson. Are you ready for the next part?”

Next part? After the spanking? A hint of fear must be visible in your eyes, because Aaron only gives you a loving smile and leans in for a slow kiss. His voice is gentle as he speaks, and one hand rubs your side soothingly.

“For this next part, we’re going to go to the bedroom. I’m going to put some lotion on you so it won’t hurt tomorrow, and then I’m going to kiss every part of you that I find unbelievably alluring. I’m going to cover you with kisses, sweet girl, and you’re going to let me, because there isn’t a single part of you–not a single inch–that doesn’t turn me on.”

Aaron doesn’t wait for you to agree before he’s helping you to your feet and steering you toward the bedroom. One of his hands opens the bedroom door and the other squeezes your waist as he gives you another sweet kiss.

You’re going to enjoy this part of the lesson much more than the last; you’re sure about that. But maybe, next time… you’ll just say ‘thank you’.

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