aaron hotchner whore

After letting out a hiss mixed with a "shit" as he catches his balance, he tosses his keys into a bowl nearby. He doesn't need to call out for you since he can hear you talking in the kitchen and makes his way there, standing in the doorway. Jack's working at the dining room table on what looks like homework. You're standing by the stove as Olivia sits in her high chair, pulled up to be near you.

Olivia may look like Aaron but she is a momma's girl through and through. Probably why she's staring at you like you've hung the moon for her even though you sound a bit exasperated.

"Olivia, sweetheart. You gotta eat your veggies." You walk to bend over gently in front of her, holding a spoon of what looks to be blended peas and carrots. Your voice is soft and kind as it always is, but he can't blame you for the way you sigh when she gives you that stubborn gaze. "They're yummy, I promise."

"Maybe she doesn't like carrots, mama." Jack offers from the dining room table. For a seven year old, he'd always been so mature and quizzical. Aaron knew he'd gotten that from Haley — Aaron hates the fact she can't be here to say that or to point out to Aaron that was another thing he'd inherited from her. "Or peas. I don't like peas either. They're yucky."

"They are kind of yucky," you agree. "But it's still important to eat them." You give Olivia a pointed look when you say that, and all she does is giggle. You sigh affectionally. "Gosh, you're too cute for your own good."

But, he decides he'll grieve that later as he walks fully into the kitchen. "Hi there, my favorite girls." He says. He kisses you first, one on your cheek then a soft peck on your lips (which he can hear Jack fake gag over) before he's walking to look at Olivia himself.

"She still not liking the veggies, huh?" Aaron asks as if he wasn't just watching the exchange from the shadows. He offers the spoon to Olivia silently, and has to bite back a laugh when she gives him that same defiant look. It was always so funny to him, how much personality such a tiny girl could have.

"Nope." You answer as you stir the food on the stove. "Her and Jack seem to share a dislike of carrots and peas."

Aaron hums thoughtfully, as he picks Olivia up out of the high chair to give her a proper kiss on the cheek. She squirms slightly before relaxing in his arms, as he holds her against his side. "I'm sure she'll come around." He says.

You smile as you take Olivia from him once her tiny arms are reaching out for you. "Maybe." You echo. The lack of a baby in his arms gives Aaron the chance to go say hi to Jack, who looks very concentrated on his English homework.

"Hi my favorite guy." He says, placing a kiss against the crown of his son's head. Jack gives a small smile, but it's nothing like Aaron is used to recieving. He takes note of that. He pulls up the dining room chair nearby, setting it beside Jack's own and taking a seat. "How are you?"

"I'm okay."

The dismissive way Jack answers is the first thing Aaron notices. Jack was always full of life and talkative. But, he tried to excuse it. He could just be tired.

"Anything happen at school today?"

"No."

Aaron nods. Anytime he asked Jack anything, it turned into a five minute long conversation — about his day, the cartoon he watched, anything. "What are you working on?" He asks. He takes a glance at the paper as Jack responds. "My english homework."

Aaron takes note of the way his son is avoiding eye contact. And so, he decides to ask straight out. "You feeling okay? You seem kind of.. off." He says. It's not mean or accusatory, rather it's gentle with a mix of concern.

Jack sighs. He leans back in his chair, twirling his pencil in his hand as he answers. "I don't want you and mama to get a divorce."

That has you also paying attention. With Olivia on your hip, you trut over to the table. "Jack, buddy, what are you talking about?" You ask, a furrow of your brow.

"Well,” Jack looks at you, then at Aaron. His gaze retreats back to his lap as he answers. “Carlos’ mom and dad told him they’re getting a divorce. His dad has a new apartment. I don’t want you to move out. Or Olivia, I like her. She smells and cries a lot but she's a good sister.”

You had heard whispers at drop-off that morning about Carlos' mom and dad seperating, but you didn't expect Jack to hear about it and inevitably get concerned.

Aaron swears he can hear his own heart break, and probably yours too. You move to gently place Olivia down on the floor — where she proceeds to crawl around with oblivion to the conversation — before you walk and kneel beside Jack’s chair.

“Jack,” you say gently, prompting him to look at you. You meet his concerned gaze with a soft one. “Your dad and I aren’t getting a divorce. And Olivia isn't going anywhere either, as smelly and as loud as she may be. I want to be here with you and your dad forever, if that's okay with you."

Aaron chimes in with a nod. "Yeah, Jack. I love mama so much, I think I would cry if she wasn't here. Like, full blown crying. It'd be kinda sad to watch honestly." He says gently, and it melts his heart when Jack gives a tiny smile that he tries to fight away at that.

Jack sighs. "But what about Carlos' mom and dad? They were really happy too." He says as he looks at the both of you. "His dad moved out, he has a new apartment that's far from Carlos. He only gets to see his dad on weekends now."

You frown. "Carlos' parents still love each other, Jack. But, sometimes people who really love each other just aren't meant to be together. But they're still going to be a good mom and dad to Carlos. And your dad and I aren't going to get divorced just because they do." You explain.

Jack nods. "I don't want you to move out," he directs that to you like it's been something on his mind for a while. Maybe it has. "Or Olivia. I mean.. she's smelly and she cries a lot but she's my sister and I love her."

"And she loves you," Aaron chimes in. "So much. And mama loves you too."

"I do." You agree. "Like, a lot times infinity. And I love your dad too. Which is why he and I are not getting a divorce or moving away from each other."

"Are you sure?" Jack asks as he looks up with Aaron.

Aaron. cups Jack's face in his hands. "I'm positive." He replies. "Why don't you go wash up before dinner? We can talk more at bedtime if you want."

Jack nods and scurries into the bathroom, mindful of the baby still on the floor. You watch him go, before you look at Aaron. "You think he's gonna be okay?"

Aaron sighs, walking and wrapping his arms around you. He takes a moment to breathe in your scent and the feeling of you being in his arms, before he nods. "Yeah." He places a kiss against your forehead. "I think he'll be okay."

You let your arms wrap around his torso. You glance up at him. "Would you actually be sobbing if I left you?" You ask. "Like, full blown ugly crying?"

Cold water washes over Spencer's tired eyes and rolls slowly down his wrists to the bottoms of his sleeves (that he rolled up to avoid getting them wet, annoyingly) as he frantically tries to wash away a strange sour feeling in his gut.

Upon looking into his mirror he gazes over the 5 o’clock shadow he’s garnered over the few days spent away in a small town in Delaware. He pulls in his lips and rubs over it with his finger tips. He doesn’t have the energy to shave it right now.

Spencer is currently harbouring a bit of a sourpuss persona, he knows this well. The team had wrapped up the case quicker than expected, leading him to message you as soon as he could about heading back to D.C. and seeing you again.

To his dismay, when he got off the plane and checked his crummy silver Nokia, that you’ve giggled at a fair share of times, the response he receives from you is… that you’re… busy?

Something about a group of friends at a late night cafe/bar getting together, he didn’t read all of it, pouting so much that he just closed his phone. Spencer is aware you had these plans before he asked to see you. Spencer is aware that he’s back from Delaware earlier than expected. Yet he’s still over his sink, face wet and cold, grumbling about your social life.

The two of you have been together for a couple months now, it’s extremely new, he knows you wouldn’t drop everything upon his arrival, but the whole plane ride home he imagined your ideas around hanging out once he got back. He got his hopes up too high.

He begins to reflect a bit, maybe a better word would be spiral, as he wanders back into his bedroom and unpacks his go bag. I shouldn’t be feeling lousy right now, he thinks. We’ve been dating for 2 months and 3 days, he had missed your two month anniversary while he was away. He couldn’t even text you that day because he was too busy. Should he even text about anniversaries like that? He’s so new to this he has no clue. 

Considering your dating timeline now he starts to worry. He’s inexperienced, almost completely… no, yeah, actually completely. He sighs.

You have been over twice, by all the beautiful luck he might have fostered in a past life, he has had the spine-tingling honor to have made out with you those two times as well. After a handful of museum and bookstore dates, even visiting your apartment once, the first time you shared a kiss was when he was showing you Jean-Pierre Melville’s Le Cercle Rouge, attesting it was substantial to the gangster film genre. 

When he felt your eyes against the side of his face during the best part of the film, he took a double take at you, seeing an unreadable expression in your eyes. He cringes at the memory of his confusion.

“Th-this part is really good… Pierre’s use of cinematic synecdoche here is perfectly timed compared to–” 

You had leaned in closely and started kissing along his jaw as he fumbled through the rest of his explanation till he tapered off into a whimper that was sealed with a kiss planted on his lips. He even reached to the coffee table in front of him while you were kissing to pause the movie, not wanting you to miss anything.

Spencer groans a bit at the memory, a little embarrassed, he now would recognize the signs you were displaying easier. He’s jealous of his past self, having you to himself so unabashedly. He’s jealous of his past time spent with you and he’s jealous of your friends right now who are hearing your laugh and smelling your perfume all night.

He sighs and flops down on his back to his bed. Spencer does not feel jealous often. He feels completely rotten and out of sorts. He thinks, maybe if he would’ve kissed you more suavely that first time you would’ve dropped your plans now. Maybe if he translated the French into English for you in a more sultry voice you’d skip out on a coffee with your friends. Maybe–

Spencer hears a faint knocking on his front door. He looks over at his alarm clock, 12:12 a.m., hm. He’s hallucinating for sure. Like a lonely old man who hears his late wife’s voice in the dark of his haunted halls–

Another tentative knock. 

He leaps up from his bed and races over to the front door with his legs moving so fast he feels like he’s in Looney Tunes. His heart starts pounding as he looks through his peephole to see a small blurry version of you shifting on your feet. He scrambles to unlock his door and swing it open. 

“Hi!” You smile at him, smelling like strong coffee mixed with whatever lactonic and spicy fragrance you usually wear that curls his toes. You step forward and give him a hug, your arms wrapping around his neck. This springs him into action, wrapping his arms around your waist he mutters out a “wow” against your shoulder. Like he just won a sweepstakes. 

You pull away a bit, but Spencer's arms stay around you. “Is it okay I’m here? You never responded to my texts.” You give him a shy smile and he realizes as he was grovelling he didn’t open his phone again after you said you had plans for the night. 

“Yes! Yes,” he clears his throat… be suave. “Of course. Um. Was just thinking about you, ha. Come over whenever. Yea. Even if I say I’m busy, come over still, haha.” Shit. 

“Ah. Okay, noted. I missed you too, Spencer.” You giggle a little at him and walk into the apartment, leaving him to shut the door behind you. “What were you thinking about?” You muse. 

“Ummmm. Le Cercle Rouge.” Spencer clears his throat again. IQ slashed to 60. 

“The Le Cercle Rouge incident, right.” You laugh again and look over at where he’s standing with a blank face. “Oh. Are you sure it’s okay that I'm here? I know I said I was busy, so I’m sure you’re ready for bed now, especially after the case. Did that go well?” His blank expression has made you nervous, he notices, though he was just considering again the feeling of his neck being kissed for the first time in 24 years. 

“Please stay. A while, too. I’m not tired.” A pause with long eye contact. “The case went surprisingly well, hence the early arrival.” 

The curve of your lip pulls up in a smirk and he sees he’s convinced you fully now. You bend down and unzip the sides of your brown high rise boots, leaving you in your black tank top, skirt, and now kneehigh socks that create a monochromatic wet dream for Spencer. Though this isn’t a dream, he shakes his head from side to side to get rid of the distracting thoughts.

“Good.” You sit down fully on his red carpet now, trying to pull your last boot off. “You know, you were a really short walk from the coffee shop, I’m surprised you’ve never been. As soon as you texted you were back I kept trying to slip away as politely as possible.” You talk while struggling with the shoe.

Spencer takes a deep breath in and meets you on his carpet, sitting on his knees to pull the boot off of you, which was incredibly easy. You were pretending to struggle with it on purpose. Once removed, he sits back against his heels and pushes your knees together by your ankles.

“You walked?” He mumbled back. He would’ve picked you up. He should’ve just checked his phone, told you to have a good night like a proper boyfriend. 

“Mm, like five minutes. No worries.”

“Its midnight- I. I can always pick you up.”

You whined your response, “But you weren’t answering your phoneeee.”

Spencer rubs his face with his hands, covering his smile a bit and feeling his skin heating up. “I’m very glad you showed up anyway. Even if it scares me you walked alone this late,” he glances at you leaning back against your hands, knees still pulled together. “You look very pretty.”

“Really? Thanks. I thought so too. About you, I mean. You’ve got a little 5 o’clock shadow right now, you look really handsome.” You smile and let out an airy laugh. Spencer subconsciously rubs his face again. He’s not sure when these jittery feelings will go away, if they ever will. One compliment from you and he’s feeling a blush coming from inside of him stretch over to his skin. 

He remembers his petulance earlier, his flair for the dramatics. Whining over people other than him seeing you, cursing his past self for awkward conversations, so he leans over onto his hands and knees and kisses your lips. 

You hum against his lips, knees together against one of his sides, happy at Spencer's first time initiating a kiss between you. You sit up off of your hands now  so they can cup his face and pull him firmer against you. Taking one of his wrists from where he’s planted on the floor to the other side of you, you guide him to slowly hover over you. 

Spencer can’t help but let out a tiny noise, a moan, against you as his palms dig uncomfortably into his carpet. He feels you lean back against your elbows and swing one of your legs to the other side of him. Now, you are pressed flat against the carpet, legs on either side of his waist. Spencer slowly moves so he’s on top of your frame, elbows crowning your head.

Both times Spencer has had the pleasure of tasting you like this you have been straddling him on his couch. This is the first time that he’s been able to lay on top of you and feel his hip bones dig into you and your legs around him.

Woah. Your legs are wrapped around him, just like how he’s dreamed of having you in his bed. Legs squeezing helplessly around him as he buries himself in you. Feeling your chest against his as you arch up into him. He lowers one hand to trail it up from your shins covered in your knee highs that make him faint to your hip.

He pushes his crotch down a bit from where it was against yours, making it so the hard-on he’s now sporting is against the floor now. He remembers the visceral feeling of you kissing his neck. Immediately he’s moving down to return the favor. What starts in soft kisses escalates quickly to sucking and laving against your skin, face buried into the source of his wildest dreams, your perfume. 

Your hands are carding through his hair right now, nails scratching at him softly and he has to position himself a bit closer to the ground now to rub off some built up tension his cock is begging for. This is usually where you part.

Face buried in your neck he’s smelling your intoxicating scent and moaning against the skin. He feels like a wild animal smelling a pheromone filled scent gland. Spencer realizes briefly where he is and pulls up from your neck to stare down at your face.

Hair haloing around you, you’re feverish and pressed against the Persian rug he spent his first big paycheck on. You have a bit of mascara smudged under your eyes and the lamps scattered around his living room are highlighting you in a way so beautiful he moans out again softly. No friction, no kissing, just by looking at you.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” he traces the line of your neck up and down softly with the tips of his fingers. “I almost drowned in my sorrows before you knocked on my door.” He leans back down and chuckles against the skin of your neck.

You don’t have exactly the same romantic thoughts in mind as you gasp out for the first time since he’s laid on you, “You feel so good against me, Spence. Wanted this so bad,” he stops kissing, breathing lightly against your neck as you continue. “Can’t believe I haven’t pulled you on me sooner.” He’s blinking silently hidden in the corner of your neck. He acts on a whim and bites down lightly against where your neck and shoulder meet and you squeal. 

Spencer was not prepared for the blazing eye contact he’d be met with once pulling away to look at you. Your tank top has ridden down, the top of your pink bra showing a bit and your hair is drastically more disheveled than when you arrived. He can feel his heart in his throat. He has to keep making you let out that sound.

You seem to notice his brazen eyeline and you take one hand to pull the neckline of your top down a bit, exposing most of the bra covering your breasts that are only slightly spilling out from all your wiggling. Spencer shuts his eyes like he’s in pain, but he’s actually moving his hips up and away from the floor so he doesn’t come in his pants right then and there.

A completely new and formidable heat spreads over him and into his loins. Never in his life has Spencer trembled with anticipation in this way. His skin is on fire and he’s struck with the overwhelming need to make you the happiest person in this world. He wants to have you shiver and shudder completely against his apartment floor, he wants to hear every moan and grunt until your voice gives out. He wants to fuck you with his mouth.

“Gah-God, baby,” Spencer moves himself away from you so that he’s kneeling between your open thighs, rubbing the outsides of your legs as he looks into your eyes. “My mouth. Um, can I use my mouth?” He lets out a shaky breath at the image.

You bite your lip softly at him, he feels like he just licked the screen on one of those old staticy TVs he used to have. “Use your mouth for what?” You half play coy and half ask in earnest, not wanting to jump to conclusions since you and Spencer have never taken off many layers together.

“I want to use my mouth to make you cum.” His face flushes immediately, your eyes widen in shock. He drags his sight down to where you lay in front of him. Legs spread open and skirt ridden up giving him an obscene upskirt of your underwear for him. Also black. He keeps his eyes there as you reply.

“Yeah. Please, please-” he whips his head up to look at your face again to engrain the image of you unkempt and nodding a desperate yes into his memory. He lightly reaches out between your thighs to briefly feel the bottom of your panties. He’s barely thinking, his first instinct was to gauge how wet you are, to compare it to how you’re going to feel later. You gasp sweetly and he moans in response, untouched, again.  

With this searing hot permission Spencer gets hit with a strong pietistic devotion towards you. There is literally nothing in his life that has mattered more to him right now than how the gusset of your panties stick onto you and that his tongue can finally be given the task he has thought about constantly since knowing you. 

The anxiety Spencer was expecting as a result of his inexperience is completely overthrown by a perfectly instinctual autopilot setting he falls into. The excitement of making you feel good, you letting him touch you in such a profound way completely overshadows the doubt of his expertise. 

Not that he’s completely clueless. Erotica classics hide in his bookshelves, copies of Anaïs Nin’s short stories, the detailed counts of female pleasure derived from biology books, decent sex education stemming from the countless hours he’s poured into literature. He’s fairly in tuned to what generally makes people crumble, he just has to try it out himself. 

Spencer starts at the top again. The push and pull between him and eating you out the way he’s craving will have to drone on a little longer as he starts kissing along the exposed skin of your breasts, not wanting to leave anything unkissed. How rude. 

You outstretch your neck to him and slide the tank top off yourself, leaving just your pink lace bra that's covering little of your nipples. Spencer fingers the straps briefly while taking in the sight of you. He cannot believe the cosmic circumstances that have led him to this moment.

“D’you like?” you mumble while watching him eye-fuck you. He almost feels sorry for how he’s watching your chest rise and fall but the way his dick is pulsing under the confines of his underwear allows for little words.

In fact, his hips kick a twitch forward at the sound of your voice. A siren song as old as time. 

“MmmIwanna,” Okay. Form words. “I wanna-” he pities himself enough to give up on that one and kisses along your chest again.

“Do what you want to. I want to feel you everywhere… I want you to touch me.” You seem to understand his dilemma. A once articulate tongue falls flat in such a frenzied situation. 

Spencer palms your tits through your bra properly now while kissing you sloppily. He feels the friction of the lace against his palm and your hardened nipple receiving the rough friction from it as well. He picks up on your whine against his lips and pulls your bra down by the middle of it, exposing your chest fully. 

You gasp against his lips and move your tongue against his as a thanks. Spencer lets out a tiny “ah” from the back of his throat when your tongues meet. To regain composure he takes the nipple he was palming through lace earlier and rolls it between his middle finger and thumb, it’s your turn to kick your hips up for friction now. 

He decides to lower his hips against yours fully for the first time, desperately searching for that debauching pleasure that he was avoiding earlier. His dick rests nicely under your belly button and you bite his bottom lip when he’s fully settled against you, he feels sort of proud. 

Feeling your body completely pressed against him in this way makes him mourn every second he’s been with you and not made you moan in happiness like he is now. Wishing that the pesky virginity he’s carried with him this long will be taken by this angel underneath him right now. His cock twitches against you at the thought of it.

He stops fiddling with the nipple and instead moves to hold one of your hands with his as his other hand moves to rub your neglected nipple. He subtly grinds a long and slow rhythm against where you two are pressed together and you make a curious noise, a full moan caught before getting let out. Nudged in your throat as you hold it in.

Spencer thinks for a moment and smiles at the realization that it sounds almost exactly like how you hold back a laugh in your throat. A small and choked out “hngh” high pitched before its snuffed out. He thinks of any future endeavors where he gets to hear you hold back a laugh in a quiet museum or library from one of his stupid jokes. With this comparison he’s going to be pathetically hard in so many more inappropriate situations now.

“Please, can you please take my panties off.” You mewl gently, almost as if you’re worried he will refuse, and break him out of his thoughts. Spencer nearly forgot how lost in his head he was while methodically rubbing your sensitive breasts and grinding against you. 

“Pretty girl, I’m sorry.” He really is, he never wants you to feel so desperate you have to beg for him to touch you, but without interference he could probably sit for eight hours straight playing with your tits to see if you could come from it. He whines out loud at the thought. “I will, of course, I will.”

The feeling of him peeling himself off you feels tortuous. However, it is very much a high risk, high reward scenario when he looks down between your thighs again to see a wetter fabric clad to your hips. Spencer leans towards you, pushes your socks down slightly to kiss the tops of each of your knees. You giggle and he nips the inside of your leg slightly. 

It’s dizzying, the experience of pulling your panties down for the first time. Every night where he has sloppily fucked his fist thinking of your smile lines and pretty hands, every evening after you’ve left his apartment well kissed has finally led to this life altering moment.

Your panties have been slid off and he’s got an iron grip on them as he’s staring at you fully exposed, the translucent liquid smudged around your cunt. He’s trying incredibly hard to not push them up to his nose and inhale, he thinks he’s done enough animalistic sniffing and grunting at you tonight. He places them neatly on the couch instead. 

“Baby, Spence, you’re a voyeur.” You laugh at his staring gently, he assumes 25% of this experience for you has been watching him stare bug eyed at every inch of skin you’ve surrendered. He lays down flat on his tummy, sucking in air through his teeth as his dick presses against his carpet through his slacks again. “Feel sensitive, that feels like a lot?” You ask softly down at him. He flushes, embarrassed a little that you notice him the exact same way he notices you. Spencer pinches his eyebrows together and nods.

“Feels.. real good though.” He laughs gently at himself as you groan and rest your head back down on the carpet at how sweet he is.

He wraps his arms tightly underneath your thighs to pull your pussy closer to him, your skirt riding up to your belly in the process. He feels you squirm a little under his arms and kisses the skin above your hip flexors softly.

His heart skips a beat when he’s up close to you, a sliver of doubt creeping up along with the immeasurable need to make you feel good. Spencer takes his tongue out and licks a broad stripe up from right below your opening to above your clit. This is more for himself, actually. He wants to taste every single drop you expelled from him kissing and touching you, it’s what he deserves.

Spencer's arms immediately have to resist against your thighs moving shut, using a bit of his strength to keep you open as he does it again. This time he moves his head slightly side to side. The whine he hears coming from your lips makes him take one arm away without thinking to hold your lips open and wraps his lips around your clit.

The open window you get without one arm suspending your leg allows you to close one thigh to the side of his face while the other is still pried open by him. He continues to suck gently, pulls away and lifts up the skin covering your clit, kisses it softly, you let out a pitiful sobbing noise and Spencer sucks your clit again, rolls it between his lips.

You help him out by taking your other thigh away from his face and holding it up yourself. “Wh-who taught you to do this?” You squeak out giving him a sense of confidence he’s been desperately striving for. Spencer cannot bear to part from your cunt to reply so he just hums lowly against you, hoping that you get his message of I daydream about doing this to you every waking moment through the vibrations he’s emitting.

He feels you rock your hips against his face greedily and he smiles a toothy grin against you. His perfect pliant girl, he couldn’t be happier to have your wetness rubbed against his nose as he dives into you. 

Wanting to escalate the scenario a bit, he’s internally pleading to feel you cum against his face, Spencer begins to suck harshly and suction onto your clit intermittently. The loud “fuck” you whimper out and how your torso isolates to twist to the side as you keep your hips in place is a good indicator that he’s making you feel good. This is a dream.

“Hh- mmmm” you cry out and Spencer flickers his gaze up to your face. You’re scrunching your face like a sweet bunny and have one hand up and posed above his head, waiting to push him away, the pleasure so strong you have to implicitly prepare yourself to shove him away when it gets to be too much. He moans highly against you.

The hand you had defensively propped up begins to lightly push at his face, he smiles at this, suctions your clit through his lips and runs circles over it with his tongue, your hand falls limply to your side.

“Fingers- ah, fingers!” You manage to gasp out one more plea before sucking your lips in and moaning deeply against them.

You seriously do not have to ask him twice. Being able to feel you twitch and grip around his fingers while he sucks on your clit has him pushing himself against the floor. The bordering on painful stimulation he’s getting from using all his body weight to hump his carpet sends tingles up and down his spine. As you said, sensitive. 

Spencer starts by tracing your entrance with his middle finger, he slips in easily just by doing that, your slick and his spit making the intrusion incredibly easy. He wastes no time pulling his finger up against your g-spot and slips in his ring finger alongside it, rubbing slick circles inside of you.

The noises your cunt is making from his incessant sucking and rubbing could probably be heard from any of his neighbors walking by his front door. He gasps hotly at this thought, what are you doing to him? Has he no shame?

You’re riding his face and fingers again, mumbling intelligible sentences. God, his cock hurts. 

“Baby, close, don’t stop-” The angelic words fall from your mouth and his ears perk up like an owner saying her dog's favorite words to it. Spencer continues exactly what he’s doing against you and looks up at you again through your back arching.

He can feel you twitching and senses you’re done for. If only he could talk and eat you out at the same time, he wants to call you pretty until tears come from your eyes. You gasp wetly and come all over his fingers.

Your thighs clamp against his head and he lets you do whatever you need to do to his face to get off. He’s rubbing soft and soothing circles against your hips as you hiccup through your orgasm.

You open your mouth as if you have something to say, and close it again, shuddering out a breath of air. Spencer pulls away, he can talk again.

“My good girl, thank you. I mean, you tasted so good… you’re so pretty, my pretty, oh my god-” He’s got a lot on his mind right now.

Spencer watches and follows your movements as you sluggishly sit up to kiss him, moving your tongue against his in an eager display to taste yourself against his lips, he whines again, feeling your warmth against him. When you palm him through his pants Spencer stutters out a pornographic “hnnn”, the friction from his rubbing against the floor has left him painfully needy.

“Can I take your cock out baby?” You ask against his neck. Spencer is aware of the embarrassing uhhuh uhhuh he releases as he scoots back against his couch. You don’t bother teasing him, taking out his red dripping dick from his pants and underwear and you don’t even giggle when it makes a whip sound as it taps against his skin.

He actually has to close his eyes after watching you whine in overstimulation as you collect your come from yourself to use it as lubrication to jerk him off with it. He’s genuinely going to pass out.

With a mouth open to the shape of an “o”, Spencer has an onslaught of tiny gentle noises that fill up the room alongside the skin slapping sound of you jerking him off. You touch the crown of his dick and one of his arms shoots out to brace himself against the couch. 

He accidentally grabs your panties he placed on the couch earlier.

Not thinking, he grips onto them and you kiss his cheek. “Want em’?” You tease. “My panties are in my top drawer next time you come over and want to snoop around.” You joke further, a red flush of humiliation covers Spencer's neck and chest. He slowly moves his grip on them over to his nose. Too far gone to have the same self-control he had earlier to set them aside, he finally indulges in taking in your scent.

He’s somewhat expecting more prodding and teasing, but you just continue to kiss over his face softly. He’s so thankful.

There’s no surprise to the fact you have him coming especially fast. Spencer feels his legs twitch and he sets down your panties to kiss you properly as he finishes all over your fist. 

As he comes down from this unexplainable high he is struck with such a tender feeling of affection towards you his eyes water. You notice and scoot onto his legs and lap and wrap your arms around him in a hug.

Not letting go until you feel him chuckling against you, you ask him how he feels and he sighs out dramatically. He’s so exhausted now.

You shyly offer to wet-vac his carpet once you guys move to clean yourselves up and he breaks out into a laughter that makes his stomach hurt. You eventually join his contagious laughter at the situation.

Spencer’s suggestion for you to stay a while is accepted with open arms. You spend your first night together wrapped up in each other's embrace. Being back in his own bed with you here settles his mind so gently that within three minutes of his head hitting the pillow he’s out like a light. 

In the morning when he wakes up for work he rubs his nose softly all over your face to wake you up. Spencer offers that you stay in his bed and sleep more or he can drive you back to yours before he heads over to work. He ends up driving you home so you can get ready for work yourself. Once you’re back home he finally opens up his phone again from last night to see a picture of yourself you sent on the walk to his apartment last night with the text under it “Had to come see you anyway, hope the doors unlocked mwahaha”.

He finds himself smiling at his missed message all day at work and once he’s seated back in his car to go home later that day he finally finds the “forgotten” panties you left on his passenger car seat when you left this morning.  

Your blouse is buttoned asymmetrically, your hair resembling a bird's nest, and you left your ID at home, making your arrival more delayed as you had to employ Garcia’s help in presenting a copy of your ID to let you through. 

That too was not without stress given that your phone was on the verge of dying as you were in the call, but thankfully you could finally breathe in the elevator. Or so you thought. 

There were two things that immediately caught you off guard as you walked into the bullpen: one, almost all the desks were deserted and two, Reid and Morgan were watching you- as if waiting for your reaction, which led you to look around in anticipation. Is there a surprise? A prank? Did I miss a patch? I’m…wearing pants, right? 

Not wanting to prolong your search, you look at the two for any indication or clue. Tilting your head to the side as if to ask what? But to your surprise, they both nod their heads in one direction. Oh.

Strauss was in Hotch’s office, along with Rossi and a woman you don’t recognize. Hotch looked a bit tense, Strauss firm, Rossi is as relaxed as ever, and the woman… is looking directly at Hotch. Just Hotch. Huh. 

You were stood just shy of your desk when you shook thoughts out of your head, slowly approaching your desk to settle your things. Dozens of scenarios were running through your head, trying to make sense of new additions to an otherwise normal day. 

But the way she was studying him made your chest tight like someone was stepping on it.. and you couldn’t figure out why. 

You approach the two rascals only to lean on Derek’s desk as you whisper under your breath, “What’s happening there?” 

Morgan shrugs but his focused face remains, “I don’t know, kid. I tried Garcia but she doesn’t have a clue either.” Eyes studying the people in the room, noting anything that could tell them something. 

Mulling over more possibilities, you hum in response. Turning to Reid, you ask him- hoping that his eidetic memory can tell you anything about the woman even if they’d only met in passing. 

“Do you know anything, Spence?” But Reid only pouts at you, a sign that he’s thought about it hard but is coming up empty. 

Shaking his head, he soberly replies, “No..I don’t think so. I– I’ve never seen her before. Sorry.” 

Before any more thoughts could be voiced between the three of you, the door to Hotch’s office opens and all four of them file out- the woman walking a little too close to Hotch. 

-

You’re approaching your usual seat on the jet beside Morgan and across from Hotch when suddenly Agent Seaver overtakes you and sits on your seat. Caught by surprise, your eyes instinctively go to Hotch who’s already looking at you. 

He nods to himself, moving from the aisle seat to the one by the window. But it appears Agent Seaver misunderstood his gesture and moved beside him, “Oh! Thank you, sir.” Even going as far as touching his arm and leaning closely. 

Now, you’ve never been a violent person. Rage has just never overcome your senses like that but today.. of all days– you couldn’t help the image of spilling your hot chocolate all over her cream blouse. 

You don’t even notice that you’re frowning as you sit beside Morgan, somehow still unaware of how much their closeness really upsets you. You honestly thought you’ve maintained an expressionless face until Morgan looks up from his file and leans close to whisper in your ear, “You’ll need claws not paws, baby girl.” Winking at you as you separate. 

You steal a glance at Hotch only to see him watching you and Morgan with furrowed brows. He almost looks normal if it weren’t for the clenching of his jaw that’s his tell of irritation. Moving your gaze to Seaver, in case you missed something that’s causing his new mood, you find her reading the case file. 

As you return your gaze on Hotch, you watch as Seaver touches his arm again and engages him in conversation about the case. It’s through the whole jet ride that you had to stomach the constant Agent Hotchner, Agent Hotchner! paired with a giggle or a slight touch. UGH!

If it weren’t for Strauss personally recommending Agent Seaver as a consultant for this case, you would have done– …still absolutely nothing. You had no claim whatsoever over Hotch. Morgan and Rossi may tease the two of you occasionally, forcing that he treats you specially or whatever but his behavior could simply be chalked off as him being a good and attentive boss. 

And yes, okay fine. You may have some moments here and there… but! they could honestly just be built up in your head because of the feelings you have for him. Like when he said he likes it when you stare? Come on, being stared at can be flattering and that’s just a universal truth. 

- 

After a whole day of coming up with theories, visiting crime scenes and M.E.’s, you’re all completely spent. Lounging in the makeshift discussion room, all of you are still working tirelessly on the case given that the unsub’s on a spree and his timeline is alarmingly short. 

Reid’s been silently staring at the board for 20 minutes while Morgan’s pretending to read files of potential suspects with his legs stretched out and feet on the table, “This is impossible. We just don’t have enough.” He exclaims as he tosses the file on the table with a thud. 

To the left of Morgan, you’re also silently mulling over files of potential suspects. Not wanting to admit that he’s right, you guys don’t have enough…bodies. You barely have anything on the guy, barely any clues- for a working profile. 

You sigh heavily, peeling your eyes off the paper and looking at the board. “Reid?” The boy genius shakes his head softly, confirming that the known dump sites don’t say much about the unsub’s comfort zones or hunting ground. 

You suddenly wonder where Seaver, Hotch and Rossi are. You and Morgan got back to the precinct at around 11PM, and you realize you haven’t seen any of them, “Where are the others?” 

Morgan, in an effort to lighten the mood, jumps at the chance to tease you, “Hmm. I think what you’re really asking is: Where’s Hotch and is he with Seaver?” He punches your arm lightly, making it obvious he’s only teasing. 

The smug, playful smile on his face makes you fight one of your own, desperately trying to not give yourself away, “Shut up,” hitting him in the head softly with the file in your hand. 

While you two were exchanging playful glares, Reid interjects, “Seaver wanted to turn in early since she’s also the one meeting with the families tomorrow so Hotch brought her to the hotel.” 

You instantly lift your gaze to him and watch as he removes the marker’s cap and scribbles rapidly on the board, quickly adding “And I’m pretty sure Rossi’s getting us coffee from the diner around the block.” 

You want to blame it on your exhaustion– your inability and ineffectiveness at hiding how you truly feel about what Reid just revealed to you, groaning loudly in pain and frustration. You put your head in your hands, muffling the sounds you’re making that are somehow a combination of a laugh and a sob. 

Morgan understands your reaction immediately and laughs out loud. 

“It’s not funny!” There was honestly no point in hiding it. As much as Morgan teased you, you knew he wouldn’t tell anyway, and Reid.. well, he was honestly an even better keeper of secrets than Morgan, Rossi and Garcia. 

He puts a hand on your shoulder to comfort you, “Baby girl, worry not. You know you hold a special place in boss man’s heart.” Then gripping both your wrists to pry your hands off your face. 

Pressing your face even further into your hands, you let out a muffled version of “That’s not true!” that came out more as “Daffs noft thwu!” 

When Morgan successfully pries your hands off your face, you’re surprised to see Reid’s moved from the board to behind Morgan, half leaning half sitting on the table, curiously watching you. 

Morgan turns around to look at the door behind you, making sure the coast is clear before he says, “Kid. Be real with me for a sec… are you blind?” That was not the question you were expecting. 

You must have looked so lost because he continues, “Hotch cares for you. Deeply. And not in the same way he does for us. You’ve gotta have felt that, kid.” Funny, you are starting to feel like a kid– the only thing missing are his hands on your shoulders to complete that huddle pep talk experience. 

“That’s just not–” you try to start. But Reid swiftly raises his hand, signing you to stop–

“Did you know that every morning Hotch makes sure all the pens and mug handles on your desk are pointing to the right– the way you need it to be– in case the night janitors move any out of place?”

“Or that he never really ate lunch in the office before but started bringing sandwiches and other food he could microwave, while timing his lunches with yours presumably so he could strike up a conversation with you during break?” 

“Or do you remember that one time the AC in the bullpen broke and we were all sweating badly, and I said the heat was making me too thirsty then he disappeared into his office and came back with a bottle of water and an orange juice box only to give it to you?” 

Morgan lets out a loud laugh at that one while Reid pouts playfully, “I mean I was genuinely dying then.” 

Not without his own input, Morgan smiles softly at you with a raised brow “Did you know he personally restocks your favorite hot chocolate in the pantry and on the jet? Including the marshmallows.” 

You breathe in deeply, the revelations sounding too good to be true but winding nonetheless. You crack a small joke, trying to play it off “And I thought the bureau was just feeling really generous.” 

The two, who have grown to be such brothers, give you the exact same look of Really? 

As Reid rounds the table to go back and stand by the board, Morgan catches your attention and holds your eye, “Look, there’s so much more, kid. But they all point to the same thing.” He says this as softly as possible, as if to not scare you away. 

You let out a soft, breathy laugh. Shaking your head, “That just can’t be true.” 

With all three of your backs to the door, you don’t notice Rossi nearing. You just suddenly hear his voice from behind, rounding the table and settling the coffee cups in front of all of you, “Coffee, anyone?” 

As if trapped in the null of the previous conversation, you’re still looking at Morgan as you lean back in your chair, slumping further to seek non-existent cover. Reid, who is now back in his own world with the board, is handed a cup by Rossi, who didn’t even turn to look- only stretching out an arm to receive it and mumbling a distracted “Thanks.”  

Rossi, who is simply too smart for his own good, impressively senses something hanging in the air, nonchalantly asking about the tailend of a conversation he was not supposed to hear, “So… what can’t be true?” 

Back to lounging excessively on a chair that is a tad too tiny for him, with legs outstretched and feet on the corner on the table– Morgan spouts, “That she’s Hotch’s girl, and has no reason to be jealous of Seaver– who by the way needs the HR orientation more than Penelope and I.” 

-

Now– all of your backs are to the door except Rossi’s. Not one of you tried to move due to fatigue, let alone look.

Unbeknownst to you, Morgan, and Reid, on the way back to the precinct from the hotel, Hotch had the genius thought of picking up Rossi so the latter wouldn’t have to walk a block with trays of coffee on hand.

Hotch and Rossi arrived together. And as Rossi went around the table to give you your cups of coffee, Hotch stayed behind– leaning on the doorframe with arms crossed, watching you and the team.

Imagine his surprise, hearing what Morgan just said. His heart skipped a beat, his stomach dropped. His entire being froze entirely.. What? Jealous? 

In his mind, he had two choices: Act like he didn’t hear it and save you from embarrassment or use it to his advantage and make his intentions clear..ish. 

-

You gasp loudly at his bluntness– and in front of Rossi! Straightening in your chair and pointing an accusatory finger at Morgan, “You little– I am NOT jealous! and I am NOT Hotch’s–” 

Cut off by someone loudly clearing their throat from behind all of you, you all freeze, including Reid who hasn’t been actively paying attention until now. 

The hair on your neck stands up as you hear the nearing footsteps, already envisioning digging your own grave in your head when finally, Hotch is standing right beside you. 

You’re all still pretty frozen, save from the slow movement which is your eyes slowly lifting its gaze to the man in question until they meet his hazel orbs. He holds your stare as he leans on the desk, arms straining in his shirt– 

Out of the corner of your eye you can see Rossi fighting a smile, and just as you’re about to mentally curse him in your head, you’re broken out of your thoughts by a deep voice, 

"You didn't have to." He takes a step towards you and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear.

"I disagree." You retort, though you know he doesn't mind you buying thing for Jack. He's not your own, but he's your boy nevertheless. "Is he asleep?"

"Yeah, just put him to bed." Aaron moves to hold your face, leaving kisses all over you forehead. Barely getting to see you on his weekend off feels like some kind of torture and he has plans to not leave your side until Monday.

"Hm, can i go give him a goodnight kiss? Wanna leave his new shirt there so he wakes up to a surprise." You smile eagerly, chuckling at his false annoyed groan.

"Sure, hun. I'll finish the dishes and meet you upstairs." He answers, giving your back a soft tap as you rush to pick up the bag and run upstairs.

You pad into Jack's bedroom, kneeling besides his bed to kiss his forehead gently. Setting the bag at the end of his bed, you leave the room as silently as you came in.

You head to the bedroom that by now is just as yours as it's Hotch's. Gathering one of his shirts before entering the bathroom to get ready for bed.

When you come out, you're met with the sight of Aaron in only a shirt and boxers. Sitting against the headboard of the bed as he waits for you.

"How was your day?" You move under the covers to get comfortable while he starts listing all the activities him and Jack did today.

His hands move to massage your sore legs and you can't help but smile at his thoughtfulness. But they come to a stop once his gaze falls on the gold necklace peaking out from your shirt. He hooks a finger around it, pulling it out from it's hiding place.

Aaron eyes you curiously as it is now completely visible, a small 'A' adorning the middle of the necklace.

"What's this?" He asks, the answer quite evident but he can't get himself to believe it. He looks at you lovingly, brown eyes contrasting with yellow light and making your heart race.

"Oh, i saw it at store and it was too pretty not to get. Besides, you're a part of me and i wanted people to know it." You answer almost sheepishly, fingers playing with the fabric of his shirt. "It's also waterproof so i never have to take it off."

Aaron swears his heart might jump out of his chest. He knows you love him, he just didn't know it was this loudly. He hopes you never stop doing it.

He wonders what the best reaction to this would be, but he can't get himself to think about it too much before he's tugging you closer. Lips pressing against yours in a gentle kiss.

"I'll get one with yours." He mumbles a bit too seriously and you can't help but laugh.

"You don't wear necklaces, Aaron." You hold his face gently, making sure he knows you appreciate the suggestion anyway. You don't need him to get one too, you're content like this.

Aaron hums with a thoughtful expression, "I'll get it engraved on my watch then." He insists and you have to hold back another laugh at the way he raises his eyebrows trying to persuade you.

"Aaron." You try to sound stern but it's prove quite impossible when he kisses your cheek over and over again.

"How about on my handkerchief?"

"Please don't. We'll be looking like an old married couple." You tease with an affectionate smile.

"We could be." His answer is way more sweet than you expected it to be, heat rushing to your cheeks. He smiles at that and pulls you impossibly closer.

"Are you proposing, Hotchner?" You tease further, though your heart is beating wildly in your chest. He's way too nice.

"You think lowly of me." He plays along, his own smile never leaving his face.

Silence falls over you two for a moment and you take advantage of it to lay your head against his chest, relaxing at the sound of his heart beating against your ear.

"Thank you, seriously." Aaron mutters with a gentle squeeze on your shoulder and kiss against your hair.

"Don't bother." Your words come out a bit slurred, sleep starting to evade you. "Love you."

"I love you." He pulls the covers up to your shoulders. He makes note to start looking for rings before his own eyes fall shut.

`✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹

love you,

the waffle mix box still rests, unopened, on the kitchen counter, an adjacent bowl too close to the edge. aaron sludges into the living room, footsteps heavy and dark fringe awry from its typical professional position. "g'morning, sweetheart," his voice is still sodden with fatigue, vocal cords grating against one another in that deep baritone when he deeps in to smooth his lips over your cheekbone. "i know i've got the day off, but i still have to train for this triathlon thing," he preens when he runs his hands over his face. "fuck."

your toes curl in their warm socks underneath your bum, and you run a tongue over your lips. "just a quick workout couldn't hurt," you offer, motioning mindlessly to the coffee table. "could move this thing out of the way and bring up your weights. wouldn't mind breakfast 'n a show."

hotch's eyes, still foggy with sleep, narrow in exaggerated accusation, hands settling sassily on his hips. "you'd like that, wouldn't you? and you'd have to get started on breakfast first, honey, don't think you can call coffee a meal."

his jab at your frequent java substitution for a proper breakfast earns a kick at his shin when you untangle your leg out from under you. "okay, then get going then, mr. muscle man. let's see if you can own up to your end of the deal."

he retaliates with an eye roll, feigned perturbance rolling off his shoulders in heaping waves when he drops, albeit slowly, to the ground. "alright, alright."

"say my name when you do them." your words are nearly muffled by the next mouthful of hot coffee, but aaron catches them.

"yeah?" he grunts when he sinks into a pushup, elbows cracking with the sudden strain at this hour. "why's that?"

you shift again. "just do it."

aaron obliges, and you make no effort to hold up your end of the agreement, licking over your lips as your name slips from his own. the wimpery wisp of each grunt, each huff from tired lungs, and arousal is amalgamating in your navel, oozing and churning in its fiery path. "oh jesus," he realizes, head falling as soreness bleeds into his biceps. "i can't believe i fell for that."

"keep going," you breathe, unable to cloak the frog in your throat. your muscles seize up when he does it one last time, chest tightening when you go to place your mug back on the nearby table.

You had been tossing and turning for more than an hour, unable to calm your heart down. It wasn’t just the thunders that scared you; the rain was pouring like crazy and the wind was almost whistling. Suddenly you felt like a little kid again, afraid that the walls weren’t thick enough to protect you from the strength of that storm.

Taking a deep breath you closed your eyes and gave trying to fall asleep one last shot. But at the sound of another thunder, the face of a certain man appeared on your mind.

Hotch.

The truth was when you thought of “safe”, you thought of him: your boss who always had all the answers. Maybe it was his older age or his intimidating appearance but he made you feel like no matter what the problem was, he would fix it. Hotch always made it better.

Without thinking about it twice, you got out of bed and ran to his room. Well, you didn’t have to run much anyway, since his room was right across from yours. He’s definitely awake, you thought; always staying up most of the night to work on the case while everyone else rested.

That was why you were surprised to see Hotch wearing a t-shirt and sweatpants answering his knocking door. But the thing that made you the biggest impression was his disheveled appearance. Sleepy Hotch was the cutest thing you had ever laid eyes on.

“Y/N? Is everything alright?”

“Hotch,” you whispered, “I’m so sorry, I didn’t think you’d be asleep. I’m gonna go back to my room.”

You made a move to turn around but Aaron was faster and grabbed your elbow, gently pulling you into his room.

“Tell me what’s wrong,” he said closing the door once you were both inside.

“I was scared,” you admitted. Seeing him raising his eyebrow in question you continued. “Of the storm...”

You were relieved to see a little smirk on his face. You guessed he was relieved too after finding out that the thing that scared you wasn’t something actually dangerous.

“I’m sorry I woke you up. I don’t know why I’m here.”

“It’s okay.” As tough as Hotch looked, he was the most gentle man you had ever got to know. “You can always come to me about anything.”

And you had the audacity to wonder why he was your safe place?

“I know.”

He sat on the edge of his bed and patted at the spot right next to him, signaling you to take a seat; so you did. You were close enough that you could smell his after shave. It made you dizzy.

“Have you slept at all?” he asked.

 “No. And I’m tired.” You let out a heavy sigh. “Maybe I should just pull an all nighter.”

“Nonsense.”

“But-”

“What if you sleep in my room? Will you still be scared if I’m right here?”

Your stomach was suddenly filled with butterflies.

“Wouldn’t that be inappropriate?” you asked.

“I won’t tell if you don’t” he said, and offered you his pinky finger to cross yours with.

You did it with a huge grin. "Deal."

“Come on now,” he said playfully while getting under the covers. Without any hesitation, you did the same, finding your place at the other side of his bed.

It was almost perfect; almost, because his arms weren’t around you, but instead were resting on his stomach.

“Hotch?”

“Hm?”

“Does the offer come with cuddles too?”

“You wanna cuddle with your boss, honey?” he smirked, and reached out his arm so you could curl up in his embrace.

“Yes, please,” you said, and the two of you ended up in each other’s arms. Being around Aaron had always felt safe, but being in his arms? That was a whole new level of safety and comfort.

“Good night, Hotch.”

And just like that the sound of his beating heart made it hard to focus on the rain hitting on his window.

You and Emily, however, were more than well prepared to have a girl’s week together off in the mountains, escaping into the small town to see what kind of fun you could find. You’d even splurged, using a bit of your own money to get a larger suite, one with a hot tub on the private balcony overlooking the mountains. One that you planned on drinking bottles of wine together in while gossiping and trash talking.

Which is why you were so surprised when you rounded the corner to your gate.

“Hotch?” You froze on the spot, confusion taking over your face at the sight of your Unit Chief standing in front of you. “Where’s Em? God, does Strauss think we need a babysitter or something?”

“No.” He chuckled at your instant annoyance, “Prentiss got specially requested for a case in New York.”

“Who has the power to pull that?”

“Her mother.”

“Ugh.” You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest. The surprise was wearing off and you suddenly shifted uncomfortably, pulling your blazer tighter around you, feeling Hotch’s eyes on you.

It wasn’t that the man made you feel uncomfortable, no it certainly wasn’t that. It was that he made you feel absolutely flustered. Nights when you laid alone in your empty bed unable to sleep and your hands danced their way down your body, it was him that you were thinking of, pretending they were his fingers touching you, stretching you out. That it wasn’t a silicone toy but his cock filling you so perfectly while he husked dirty words into your ear. As a result, you generally kept your head down around him, did your work and went about your life. He wasn’t totally sure that if it was that you just didn’t like him, if there was some underlying issue you had with men in power, or if it was simply that you were attempting to respect his authority.

“Sorry,” he suddenly spoke, “for ruining whatever plans you and Prentiss had. I know the two of you are close.”

“Mmhmm.” You nodded, staring out the airport window “s’okay.”

“When we get there I’ll see about upgrading, try and get adjoining rooms or something.”

“Already did that.” Your eyes flicked back to him briefly, “got one of the larger two bedroom suites that close off with like, French doors or whatever. We were planning on,” your cheeks flushed suddenly, realizing you were about to admit to your boss that you were going to play hooky, “taking…advantage of as many amenities as we could.”

“Hmm.” He chuckled, watching the way you quickly looked away so you could watch the planes drive around on the tarmac, basically refusing to look at him, “I’m sure that was all Prentiss’ plan.” That earned a huff of a laugh from you but you still didn’t dare look him in the eye, “do you have any idea how many of these things I’ve been to over the years? Guess how many times I’ve ditched out on them.” He smiled softly when your eyes flicked back to him, “places like this always have the best scotch, and the bonus is that it’s free.”

You swore he winked at you, a grin on his face that sent tingles shooting through your body and you were incredibly thankful when they suddenly announced boarding. At the very least, you and Emily had also upgraded to business class, you wouldn’t have to worry about minimal personal space for the flight, there’d be a barrier between you and Hotch. While you were distracted with your phone, he’d managed to disappear and you weren’t entirely sure where to, but you took the opportunity to open your text messages.

‘I cannot believe you.’

‘Oh come on, like I’m happy about this either. A week with my mother?! Who’d they end up sending?’

‘Hotch…’

You didn’t have to imagine Emily’s laughter, you could practically feel it through the phone as the three little dots popped up, disappeared and then popped up again. She, of course, was the only one who knew about your crush on Hotchner, she’d been planning on teasing you about it all week, hoping that maybe you’d find some other brooding FBI agent to get under while out of town.

‘Maybe that’ll work out for you. You can enjoy the view and the hot tub with him, have a nice romantic weekend.’

‘I fucking hate you.’

*

The first two days of the conference were fine, you stayed out of Aaron’s way, went to the presentations you were speaking at and did the required amount of socializing. You found that he was usually gone before you in the mornings, but there was always fresh coffee in the pot waiting for you. He made sure to respect your space as much as he could, if he swung by the suite to change in the afternoon and you were there he wouldn’t linger, and he’d make sure to change in the bathroom.

Day three was a little more on the tedious side, sitting through a lecture you would have rather slept through, one that was meant more for younger agents but they’d asked someone from the BAU to sit in and help with the question period. You ran into Hotch at lunch and he inquired about your plans for the rest of the day now that the mandatory attendance parts were done, asking if maybe you wanted to explore the mountain town, maybe grab some dinner outside of the resort. You laughed awkwardly, praying your cheeks weren’t as hot as they felt and politely declined, he shrugged, teasing that you would be missing out, but to enjoy your night in. You were incredibly glad he wandered off after that, the butterflies in your stomach nearly too much to handle as you got accustomed to the more casual version of your boss.

Dinner was spent with an old friend from the academy, laughing as you caught up over multiple courses and a bottle of wine. You said an early goodnight to them, making your way back to your suite, happy to find it empty and your eyes drifted through the balcony window, lingering on the hot tub. Figuring there was no better time but the present you quickly stripped, changing into your bikini before swiping a bottle of wine from the fridge and a spare wine glass.

*

Aaron also ended up running into a couple of old friends while out in the town, friends who had worked this conference in the past and knew exactly where to go for the best meals and fanciest scotch. Free from the responsibility of running a team he had stated to loosen up on this work vacation, a little rougher around the edges, inhibitions lowered and that all remained when he returned to the hotel room. Toeing out of his shoes he hung up his coat before starting to unbutton his shirt as he moved through the room, wondering what was stashed in the bar that he could indulge into now, potentially coerce you into a drink with him at the very least.

He could hear music echoing from the balcony and his gaze got pulled out there where he caught sight of the steam rising from the hot tub into the cool night air. His eyes lingered on you, nestled in the corner of the tub you were fully settled into the padded seat, arms extended across the backs of it, your head titled back with your eyes closed as you relaxed, hair pulled up to the top of your head to keep it dry. He could see the shimmer of water and sweat on your skin and he instantly wanted to lick up the exposed column of your neck. His tongue darted out to wet his lips as his eyes sunk lower, not missing the curve of your chest just visible above the water, hot pink fabric clinging to your skin. You were at a complete level of peace that he’d never seen before and he couldn’t help but want to see more of it, want to explore how far he could push your boundaries and began to wonder just how professional he had to remain on this retreat.

Though of course, that had technically been his idea from the start.

As soon as Ambassador Prentiss called, Emily was groaning about how much of a waste it was that she was missing the conference. It only took a raised brow from him to get her to admit the plan was to ditch as much as the two of you could, that you’d splurged for the all inclusive package and a very private balcony and jacuzzi. He wasn’t assigned to take her place, and he didn’t jump at the offer to make it not so obvious, but no one else knew about the extra perks so he simply looked like he was taking one for the team.

Figuring it was now or never he retreated to his side of the suite, changing into his trunks before swiping a bottle of scotch and a glass.

You were more relaxed than you had been in ages, warm water bubbling around your body as the wine sunk into your system. The music soothed through you, pulling you further from reality and honestly, it was pretty nice to not be chasing after some psychopath right now, even if you were still kinda surrounded by talks of crime. You were almost considering calling Emily, checking in on how things were going with the team, updating her on how things were going here, no doubt she’d have mountains of questions and teasing about you sharing a suite with Hotch.

And that was exactly how and why you didn’t hear him come out onto the terrace.

“Think you can warm me up?”

His deep voice shook through the night air and you jumped, water splashing around you as your heart nearly burst through your chest while your eyes flew open.

“Jesus fucking Christ!” You swore, chest heaving as you finally took him in, trying not to gulp at his bare chest, “I didn’t hear you come in.”

“Sorry.” He chuckled, ducking his gaze for a moment, watching the way you sunk further under the water to avoid his lingering eyes, “you mind if I join? Or I can come back later.” He lifted the bottle of liquor in his hand, “just thought maybe we could have a drink.”

“Oh, uh, yeah.” You shook your head, “that’s fine, come on in.” You shifted further into the corner of the tub, turning your back while Hotch got into the water, wiping your hands on the towel to check your phone, unsurprised to have a couple of messages from Em. Once the water settled, you refilled your wine glass, turning back to face him as you sunk into the seat again.

“This is nice.” He murmured softly, letting out a relaxed sigh before pouring out a drink, “you and Prentiss really have a hack for these conferences.”

“Mmmhmm.” You replied over the brim of your glass, taking a hefty swig.

“You get up to anything fun tonight?”

“Ran into a friend. Had dinner at the steakhouse downstairs.”

Hotch frowned lightly, he didn’t miss the way you’d tensed up a little bit once you’d realized he was there, once he was in such close proximity and under the water with you. “Are you sure you don’t want me to come back later? I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“No!” You practically yelped, grimacing at how quick you were to keep him there, “I’m fine. Totally fine, promise. I just… you’re… my boss.” Your gaze was redirected into your wine glass, “never really seen you in anything other than a suit and now…” You blindly gestured in his direction and then to yourself with a little laugh, “and I don’t think a pink bikini is exactly business casual and it’s not exactly my classiest one… thought Em would be the only one seeing it.” You muttered and then let out a little gasp, suddenly glancing up, “not that I brought it so she could see it! We’re not… that’s… no… we’re friends, I don’t swing that way.”

This time Aaron laughed, taking a sip of his drink, “it’s fine. You need to relax, alright?” He raised his drink out to you and you timidly clinked your glass with his. “Enjoy this while you can.” He gestured to the view, the night sky painting the mountains in gorgeous colours, “besides,” he smirked across at you, “I’ve seen you undercover and a few of those outfits leave very little to the imagination.”

You glanced up to him, noticing the flush in his cheeks, the smirk on his lips before he took another swig of his drink. There was a gleam in his eye that you hadn’t seen before that you didn’t exactly recognize and if you’d known any better, you would’ve said he was flirting with you.

“Are… are you drunk?” You suddenly asked, nearly regretting it the moment you’d said it and he laughed again, a sight and sound that made your insides weak.

“I think I legally shouldn’t drive anywhere, but I’m still completely in control of myself.” He nodded toward the half empty bottle on your side of the jacuzzi, “are you alright?”

“I’m so sorry sir.” You blushed, ducking your eyes again, “that was inappropriate. And yeah, I’m totally fine, big lunch, big dinner, high tolerance.”

“Don’t worry about it.” His smile softened, “and you can drop the sir, we don’t need to keep up that professionalism right now.”

“Oh..” You sank deeper under the water, taking another sip of your drink. Part of you wanted to disappear while the other part of you wanted to complain you were overheating, pull yourself up onto the ledge of the tub and flaunt your half naked body. The desire to throw yourself at him was only a few glasses of wine away and you knew it. Instead, the two of you sunk into a semi comfortable silence as you continued to drink, watching the night sky.

“You know, your talk the other day was fantastic.” He spoke softly, his voice floating across the water to you, “better than any other profilers have done on the topic.”

“Thank you.” You mumbled quietly, risking a very quick glance up at him before you were staring at the horizon again. Hotch let another few moments of silence pass before he spoke up again, the corner of his mouth curving up when he asked you,

“Why so shy?”

That caught your attention, your eyes flying up to his as you clutched at your wine glass, “what?” He laughed, shaking his head at you.

“I’m just saying, you’ve been so reserved, aware, quiet on this trip. You almost seem to make yourself smaller whenever I’m around and I’m not sure if it’s because you only think of me as your boss or if I’ve done something to make you at unease.”

“Christ.” You muttered, “I thought we weren’t profiling this week.”

“Have… I done something?” He asked, near worry taking over his face and you were quick to drain your drink before jumping to action.

“No, absolutely not! Hotch, please, you’re like, the most respectful guy I know. You make me feel… well, a lot of things, but uncomfortable is not one of them.” The words slipped from your lips before you could even think about them and you glanced up, your cheeks burning to catch his eyes widening slightly before he grinned, his hand catching yours, grounding you from whatever spiral you were about to drown in.

“So tell me.” He murmured, his voice silky soft as it hit your ears, his thumb brushing over your knuckles and he gently tugged at your hand after your glass found home on the edge of the tub, “come here gorgeous.”

The pet name nearly made you melt the instant it had left his lips and you felt the fluttering between your legs as you willingly moved through the water when he softly pulled you to him once more. Your breath caught in your throat when he guided you to straddle his lap, one of his hands hesitantly resting on your hip under the water while the other continued to play with your fingers gently.

“Well?” He asked, glancing up at you with a devilish look in his eyes and you let out a low breath, “what do I make you feel?”

“Flustered.” You managed out, your heart ready to beat itself out of your chest, feeling his thumb rub against your bare skin under the water, encouraging more responses from you, “unfocused, distracted…”

“Hmm…” he leant in, pressing a tender kiss to the underside of your jaw, “is that all?”

“Christ, Hotch.” You muttered, your eyes nearly fluttering shut as his hand let go of yours, moving so his thumb and forefinger could pinch your chin softly.

“Aaron…” He insisted, his eyes boring into yours as you opened them and you nodded softly, nearly whimpering at the way his thumb shifted to trace your lower lip. “What else?”

“Absolutely and incredibly fucking turned on.”

“Is that so?” He murmured, tilting your head to the side so he could kiss your neck, his lips brushing across your skin as he spoke, “is that last part just right now?”

“All week.” You replied, your pulse racing as he continued to litter your skin with tender kisses “all the goddamn time…”

“You think about me a lot hmm?” He nipped at your neck and you gasped, your body jolting towards him under the water, “what do you think about me doing?” He nuzzled into the crook of your neck, pressing a kiss just below your ear, “hmm?”

“Aaron…” you breathed out, your head tilted back with your eyes shut as his lips continued to dance across your skin. His hand gently pinched at your hip under the water.

“Don’t go shy on me now, tell me.. what do you think about me doing?”

“K- kissing me.” You managed out, unsure whether the heat in your cheeks was from the water, the way you were already putty in his hands or embarrassment of admitting it to his face. A gasp broke free of your lips at the sensation of his hand tracing up and down your spine and you automatically arched toward him, “touching me…” The hand he had under the water toyed with the knot of your bikini on your back, his dry one moving back to your chin, tilting your face back to his.

“I want you to look at me when you say the next one.” His thumb traced your lips, “come on gorgeous girl, I know there’s more you like to think of me doing, what is it?”

“Fucking me…” Somehow you were able to hold his gaze while the words floated out of your mouth, it was likely because your brain was already in a haze, first the wine, then the heat and now utterly intoxicated by Hotch’s touch.

“Bet you think about that one the most, don’t you?” He asked with a grin and you couldn’t help but nod, “when you’re alone at night, touching yourself, pretending it’s me. Picturing me naked, my cock stretching you out until your legs are shaking and you’re seeing stars.”

“Jesus Christ.”

“Oh no,” he chuckled darkly, “I’ll have you screaming my name by the end of the night sweetheart, just wait.”

You let out a whimper, it was all you had time to do before Aaron sat forward, capturing your lips in a heated kiss that swallowed down any further noise coming from you. The kiss was full of fire, Aaron quickly dominating it and you were completely happy to let it happen, sinking deeper into his arms as yours looped around his shoulders. His dry hand slid up the back of your neck, fingers sinking into your hair while the other hand ventured further south, groping at the globe of your ass. You let out a small moan into the kiss, giving his tongue access to your mouth and he eagerly dove in. You could taste the scotch on him as your tongue danced with his, the smallest hint of a cigar from earlier and you couldn’t help but groan, your hands starting to play with his hair.

He pulled back ever so softly, nipping at your lip quickly before his mouth trailed across the side of your jaw, he left a feather light kiss behind your ear that caused you to let out an airy breath, your head lolling back and he felt himself twitch, hardening in his trunks. His mouth pressed lazy kisses down your neck before he made home in the crook of your neck, alternating between kissing, sucking and biting.

“Oh Aaron…” You shifted in his lap, lightly grinding against his cock and he let out a low groan onto your skin, his hands clutching you impossibly close to him. He raised his face, eyes dark with arousal as he gazed across at you before his lips found yours again and you were moaning into the kiss, grinding harder down onto his lap, a small gasp leaving your lips when you felt him getting harder underneath you.

Aaron couldn’t get enough of you, he wanted more, he wanted all of you, he wanted his hands and mouth everywhere all at once, he was drunk on your kisses alone and craved every inch of you. The lingering of your perfume was wafting through his senses, the way your lips moved against his made his cock utterly ache as you brushed against it. As much as he wanted to bend you over right then and there he would be completely satisfied just kissing you all night, the internal battle doing its best to figure out what he wanted to act on while your fingertips scratched as his head. You only broke the kiss when you felt like you couldn’t breath anymore, gasping for air, your eyes half shut, forehead resting against his while his hands soothed up and down your sides.

“God…”

“Still not the right name.” He teased, pulling a small laugh from you, one that you opened your eyes at, sitting back every so slightly before pressing a quick kiss to his lips. His hands trailed up your arms, coming to rest at the base of your neck, gently tugging at your bikini strings. “May I?”

“Mmhm.” You nodded with a wicked grin while your own hands splashed behind you to undo that knot and Hotch let the fabric fall from your skin, not even noticing it float away in the water as you sat up. His eyes raking down your body and over your chest, letting out a groan at the slight bounce as you settled, the way the water dripped down your tits, nipples hard in the cool air.

“Gorgeous girl.” He murmured, his hands gently groping your chest, squeezing your tits, thumbs flicking over your nipples and you moaned softly. “Such pretty sounds too.” You giggled softly, feeling the heat creeping back into your cheeks as his full attention was on your half naked body. His hands continued to play with your chest, rolling your nipples between his thumb and forefinger while yours came up to cup his face, ducking to kiss him again, unable to get enough.

Moaning softly into the kiss, his hands squeezing at your chest, you ground down onto his lap harder, feeling the bulge building between his legs. Your tongue dove into his mouth, doing what you could to keep control of yourself as he increased the pressure on your chest, pinching your nipples. After a few moments he broke the kiss, eager to duck down and suck a nipple in between his lips, teeth scraping against the pert bud. Your hands wrapped around his head, threading into his hair as you held him tighter to you,

“Fuck Aaron…” You groaned and you felt his lips curve up into a grin against your skin.

“That’s it sweetheart.” He murmured, blowing cold air onto your nipple before swapping to the other side, “say my name.”

“God Aaron,” your fingers tightened in his hair, nails scratching at his head, “that feels so good.”

He groaned in response, teeth scraping against your tender skin before he pulled off your chest, burying his face between them to leave a trail of kisses all the way up your neck before kissing you deeply again. When he finally pulled away this time his hands wrapped around your waist, lifting you while he stood,

“Up.” He instructed, “out.”

“Why?” You half laughed, finding your balance on your feet in the water as his arm wrapped around your waist.

“Well I can’t fuck you in the hot tub gorgeous.” He husked against your lips before picking you up in his arms, guiding you to wrap your legs around his waist and he was finally able to get you out of the tub.

Lips pressed against yours, tongue sliding back into your mouth he carried you back into the suite, managing to snag a towel from the back of the chair to toss down onto the bed before he let go of your legs. You let out a whine at the loss of contact, staying up on your toes to not break the kiss and he chuckled into your lips, hands groping at your ass. His hand cradled your face, pulling an inch away from you,

“Lie back gorgeous.” He muttered, stealing another kiss before nudging you back towards the bed, “I want to know how pretty you sound when you come.”

You collapsed down onto the bed and Hotch was quick to gently drop over you, catching himself with his hands as he caged you into the bed, his lips kissing at your skin again. Your arms wound around him, pulling him closer to you as your lips found his, tongue easily sliding into your mouth when he deepened the kiss. You moaned softly against his lips, back arching off the bed as your hips rocked up, eager for more friction. He let out a low groan at the feeling of you brushing against his cock through thin fabric, feeling himself throb inside his shorts. His free hand slid down your body, swiftly untying one knot of your bikini bottoms and then the other, pulling them away from your body while you lifted your hips to help before he was tossing them behind him.

Aaron cupped between your legs, palm rubbing on your clit while his fingers massaged your wetness, pressing against you, teasing you slightly as you whined into the kiss. A finger slid through your folds, spreading your juices around your cunt, dampening his fingers before he brought them up to your clit, rubbing slow circles on it.

“Aaron… please..” You whined, hips rocking up to his touch as you clutched him tighter to you.

He chuckled softly, finger dipping back down before it sunk into your pussy, pumping a few times before he added a second one. “Already so wet for me.” He husked into your ear, crooking his fingers in search of the sensitive spot inside you as he continued to pump his hand between your legs.

“Fuck…” you moaned, your body sinking into the lush bed as sparks began to fly under your skin, pleasure fluttering through you while his lips returned to yours, swallowing down your noises. His fingers twisted and scissored inside you, stretching out your warm walls while they skillfully fucked you. He curled them again and you broke the kiss with a gasp, body shivering against the bed as your eyes scrunched shut. You could feel your pussy pulsing around his fingers and you were sure your juices were dripping down his wrist already at this point. His nose nudged at your chin, giving him access to your neck again, nipping and sucking the sensitive skin while his fingers continued to toy with you. “Please…” you panted, “please fuck me already.”

Aaron’s breath was hot on your neck as he huffed out a laugh, pressing a kiss to your lips before he pulled away, sitting up on his knees between your legs, watching his fingers disappear into you for a few more thrusts before pulling them out of your cunt and sucking them into his mouth. He let out a groan at the taste of your juices, his cock aching at the thought of truly tasting you, wishing that he had more time but you were already whining again and he didn’t want to tease you anymore than he already had. Shifting, he quickly tugged his shorts off and his cock sprung free, hard and throbbing, he wrapped a hand around it, smearing the pre cum as he pumped himself a few times, his eyes falling shut while he let out a heavy sigh before a realization washed over him.

“Fuck.”

“What?” You asked, your eyes flying open, widening slightly at the sight in front of you now that he was completely naked.

“I don’t have any condoms.”

“I’m clean.” Was your immediate response, not wanting to delay things any longer, “and I’ve got an implant.”

“Are you sure?” He asked softly and you nodded eagerly.

“Please Aaron..” you whimpered, “I need you…”

He leant forward, hand guiding his cock, rubbing it through your lower lips, smearing your juices around it as you let out a small gasp before he sunk fully into you and you both let out a satisfied moan.

“God you’re tight.” He muttered, dropping over you again, burying his face into the crook of your neck as your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him impossibly deep inside you. “Fuck…” He stayed still for a moment, feeling you fluttering around him, he knew if he tried to move he risked coming incredibly early, he was already throbbing.

“Fuck you feel so good.” You murmured, arms squeezing at him gently, moaning when he nipped at your skin and that was enough to get him going.

He set a steady pace, plunging into you with a roll of the hips, cock dragging over every inch of your walls, hitting the right spots with each thrust. You clung onto him, your hips rocking up off the bed to meet his with every push, your moans getting louder as he fucked you, pleasure soaring through your body.

“Fuck…” you whined, “harder Aaron, please.”

He pushed himself up, sitting back on his haunches while he grabbed one of your legs, resting it on his shoulder groaning when he slipped even deeper into your pussy. You gasped softly, your hands clutching at the bedspread while his hips came crashing into yours, the noises leaving your lips more frequent, your eyes scrunching shut.

“Christ,” he swore at the way you pulsed around him, squeezing him tight, the coil building deep inside his gut as he watched himself disappear into your cunt. His hands grabbed your hips, lifting them off the bed as he continued to snap his hips into you and you cried out at the new angle, your pussy clenching down around him. “Gon’ need you to come sweetheart.” He grunted, “m’not gonna last.”

“Don’t stop.” You groaned, fire prickling under your skin as your body shivered, “oh fuck!”

Aaron reached down with one hand, pads of his fingers rubbing furiously at your clit and your body shook, hips jolting as he continued to pound into you. You felt the pleasure burst, pussy clenching around his thick cock, juices dribbling across your skin as you cried out.

“Oh god Aaron!” Your hips jumped in his hands, body shaking, thighs clenching around him as your peak hit, a chorus of his name and breathy swears escaping your lips, floating around the room just enough to drive him absolutely wild. “Fuck… yes! Oh fuck Aaron.”

He didn’t let up, thrusting faster, the pressure on your clit harder as he leant forward, driving into you harder as he started to chase his own peak. He grunted, hips nearly faltering as your pussy continued to flutter around him, his arm winding tightly around your waist, holding you to him.

“C’mon gorgeous. You’ve got one more in you. Come again for me.”

You let out a whine, your hands gripping at his body, nails digging into his skin and you swore you practically blacked out when your second orgasm hit, letting out a cry as you tensed in his arms, twitching as you whimpered. Aaron groaned, fucking into you a few more times as his hips faltered and he sunk into your cunt with one last heavy thrust, hissing as he came, spilling into your pussy.

Panting, he gently collapsed over you, arms winding tighter around you in an effort to solidify this moment into his memory, not wanting to forget the way you looked, the way you felt wrapped around his cock, the noises you made when you came, how your lips felt on his skin, the sweetness of your taste. Under him you were slowly catching your breath, a happy hum leaving your lips when he placed a kiss onto your shoulder. One of your hands gently ran up and down his back and you felt him relax deeper into you, letting out a soft moan. Finally he pulled his head up enough to kiss you, lips moving lazily together until he gently rolled off you onto his side, letting out a quiet hiss as his cock slipped out of your warmth. You rolled toward him, happily accepting the arm he swung over waist as he pulled you toward him again, ducking down to nip at the tender spot forming on your neck before kissing you softly.

“Well that’s one way to enjoy a conference.” You murmured, your lips curving up into a grin and he huffed out a laugh, eyes sparkling down at yours.

“Fuck the conference. Let me give you a reason to stay in bed.”

“Is that an order Agent Hotchner?” You asked with raised brow and he smirked.

“A direct one.” He kissed you again, lips brushing yours as he spoke, “no way either of us is leaving this suite ‘til Friday. That’s why room service was invented.”

“I don’t think that’s right, but I’m not going to argue.”

“Oh but you love to prove you’re right.” He teased, smiling as you rolled him onto his back.

“Yeah, but I can think of a few better uses for my mouth right now.”

*

Aaron’s suggestion was exactly the way you spent the next two days, tangled in each other’s limbs, sheets barely covering bodies while you discovered every inch of the other persons skin. By Friday afternoon you knew just exactly how to touch each other so that you would see stars every single time. Aaron was about to suggest staying the weekend for a few more days of bliss when his phone went off and you were both called back to work. The team was already on the jet, meaning you were flying commercia to California to meet them there.

You were immediately roped into a coffee run with Emily, even if it was only to the breakroom and back, she had to get her complaints out about the days with her mother and honestly, wanted to know how things went being trapped in a hotel with Hotch all week. Scooping up your coffee you snagged a granola bar from the shelf, wandering back down the hall to the team as you caught up, you shoved the bar into your pocket so you could pull open the door and your hand hit something metal, your brow furrowing as you stalled in your tracks. In turn, Emily pulled open the door, propping it so Hotch could step through, no doubt on his way to secure his own caffeine, nodding to the both of you as he said a quick thanks.

“Aaron!” You called after him, having now pulled the item out of your pocket, realizing it was his watch and he turned back to you just in time to catch it as you tossed it to him. His head titled in confusion, glancing up at you as he slid it back onto his wrist, “you left it in the bin when we went through security, I forgot I grabbed it.”

“Thanks.” A flash of a smile crept onto his lips before he turned away, making his way down the hall.

“Oh… my god.” Emily quietly gasped, smacking your arm, “you hooked up and you weren’t planning on fucking telling me?!”

“What?” Your eyes shot to her, quickly stepping through the door to make sure Hotch wouldn’t hear you, “no. Em, don’t be ridiculous.”

“Please. When have you ever called him Aaron before? And I did not miss that hickey on his neck.”

Your eyes widened quickly, remembering how you’d made home in the crook of his neck while riding him, his arms wound around you, squeezing you softly as his cock plunged into your cunt. It was the same round he’d lavished your chest, his mouth barely leaving them, under your shirt you had your own set of hickeys and bite marks littered across your body. The memories were enough to bring a tingling down south, desire beginning to flood through you as heat crept into your cheeks. That of course was enough for Emily to confirm that her suspicions were right, trying not to gape as she attempted to form a coherent response. Before she could though, Hotch came back through the door, already hanging up a call from Garcia.

“Prentiss, take JJ and head down to talk to the family, Agent,” he turned to you, “grab your coat we’re going to the crime scene.”

“Yes sir.” You nodded, your cheeks flushing at the use of the title already and a possessive look shot through his eyes lightning fast, the corner of his mouth twitching up into a very brief smirk that Emily caught and did her best to hold back a laugh. He was back across the room in an instant, handing out tasks to the rest of the team and Emily pinched at your arm.

“Well, get ready for round two in the car.” She teased and you turned to her with a smug grin.

“More like round eleven.”

_____________________________

Aaron has started keeping lollipops on his desk.

Cherry lollipops, specifically. He knows that when you drop off reports on his desk, you'll grab one and start sucking on it. He knows he's straddling a slightly unethical line, not when you swirl your tongue around hard spun sugar and suck on it.

His soul almost left his body when you told him you had an oral fixation. That you needed to have something in your mouth all the time, to focus and pay attention. He doesn't think he's been harder in his life-

"Hotch?" The voice interrupts him from his train of thought, and he whips his head around, taking in the sight of you in loose pajama pants and a tank top, your hair damp from your shower.

"I told you, it's Aaron with me," he reminds you, voice low as you perch on the end of the bed, eyes lowered as you fiddle with your hands.

"What's wrong?" he asks, and you sigh, looking around the room, not meeting his eyes. He fights the urge to cup your face in his hand.

"I forgot my lollipops," you blurt out, "I can't focus, I can't sleep, I just need something." Aaron's head spins, hands twitching as he fights the urge to reach out and touch you.

"You can use my fingers." He didn't mean to say it, the words are driven purely by his subconscious. He watches your eyes widen as you look up at him.

"Are you sure?" You ask quietly, and he nods, blood rushing to his ears, heartbeat ringing. He can't believe this is happening. He nods.

You open your mouth, and his vision swims. He beckons you closer, pulling onto his thighs until you're perched in his lap, chest flush with his.

"Open up, okay?" He murmurs, and you nod, lips parting. Two of his fingers brush against your lips before slipping into your mouth, a soft sigh leaving his mouth as you suck on them, eyes fleuttering shut.

He's never been this hard in his life. His body is practically shaking as you rest your chin on his chest, tongue wrapped around his fingers. His hands rub up and down your spine, trying to soothe both you and himself.

"Feels good," you whine, and he's so close to snapping, hands bracketing your waist as you shift on his lap, the friction almost making him groan.

"Yeah? Feels good, sweetheart?" He asks, watching as your glazed eyes look up at him with a content expression. His thumb works circles on your hip, and you lean into the touch.

"Yeah, Aaron. Feel floaty," you mumble, and he could almost explode, his whole body is burning up, he needs it, he needs it-

A knock echoes at the door.

Aaron is going to kill whoever's there, but first he eases you off his lap, rubbing your back soothingly as he props you up against the pillows.

"Try to sleep, okay?" He says, fondness creeping into his voice. You nod, slipping under the covers with a smile. He think his heart might burst.

There's only one thought echoing in his mind as he walks to the door:

This isn't over.

You're curled up on the couch, a movie humming along in the background when your phone lights up, aarbear 💕 flashing across the screen. I miss you, it reads, and you sigh, cradling your phone close to your chest before typing out a response.

I miss you too, baby. How's the case going? He responds almost instantly, so quickly it almost makes you chuckle.

Not well. Need a distraction. You know he means your nightly phone call, but you can't resist, biting down on your bottom lip as a smile plays across your face.

What kind of distraction ;)

Behave.

You snort to yourself, his reprimand only compelling you to do the opposite. You pad into your bedroom, pulling your shirt over your head, laying across the bed and aiming the camera at your reflection in the full length mirror. The image you send Aaron is just provocative enough- most of your bare chest is hidden with a clever angle. Most of it.

This enough of a distraction?

You hit send without second thought, smirking to yourself as you throw your phone down onto the bed and head for the shower.

When you're done, you notice Aaron still hasn't responded to you. You shrug, figuring he'd caught a break in the case, and slip under the covers, opening your latest novel.

aarbear 💕- attachment: 1 video

Frowning, you open your phone, the thumbnail loading as you tap your fingers on the sides of your phone. Impatiently, you load the video, relived when the spinning icon finally disappears.

You almost drop your phone.

Because Aaron is sitting on a hotel bed, dressed in only an old Yale t-shirt, fucking his fist. Fingers shaking, you press play.

His bottom lip is twisted between his teeth, brows furrowed as his hips buck up impatiently into his hand. His jaw falls slack, breathing sharply as he continues his rhythmic pace.

"Fuck," he mutters, mostly to himself, "look what you to do me, pretty girl. I'm so- fuck, I'm so fucking hard-" It's almost a whine, he's as desperate for it as you are, no matter what he might pretend otherwise. He brushes the underside of the head with his thumb and lets out a choked sound.

"You look so pretty," he pants, breath coming heavy, cheeks stained red, "my beautiful girl, just waiting for me to come home and fuck her. Bet you need it, angel? Bet you need it bad."

He's merciless, thighs shaking as he teases his tip over and over again. His head lulls back, lips parting as he starts to cum, spilling over his fist. "Shit," he groans, hips not stilling, "shit, shit-"

His free hand braces on the bed behind him as he comes down, chest heaving, thighs and the hem of his t-shirt splattered with his cum.

The video ends there.

You hardly have time to process your shock- and arousal- before your phone buzzes with another notification.

aarbear 💕- call me

“Aaron,” You whine breathlessly, your grip on his shoulders tightening as you try to rut up against him.

He has you perched on the edge of the sink counter in the jet’s tiny bathroom. Your legs are spread to accommodate the width of his hips. It’s a snug fit, but neither of you really mind. It takes no effort at all for him to press his lips to your temple, to snake his hand between your bodies to rub soft circles into your clit. His head swims with the scent of your soft perfume which permeates the entire space. By his standards, he’s in heaven.

“We don’t— we don’t do this,” You murmur into the crook of his neck. The way your voice cracks tells him that he’s doing plenty right.

“I know, sweetheart, but I needed you. Needed to feel you cum for me honey,” Those words in the deep timbre of his voice are sinful.

Your pussy is squeezing him so tight, threatening to send him over the edge of his own orgasm. But he would rather pull out now and finish you with his mouth and fingers before beating you there. He rolls his hips a little harder, rubs his two fingers against your clit a little firmer. In the small space he’s hitting deep, the tip of his cock pressing insistently against that sweet spot inside of you. Your breath picks up, and he knows that all you need is a little nudge. He’s always happy to give it to you.

“C’mon sweetheart, let me see you fall apart,” He breathes quietly.

It’s all you needed to hear him say. You bury your face further into his neck, biting your lip to keep the groan that threatens to leave you in as you cum around his cock. Your release drags him down, and you feel the way he fills you with warmth. One of his hands leaves your leg and presses over his mouth, holding in a groan of his own.

After several moments of mingled breaths, you lean back, resting your head back against the mirror with a satisfied smile.

“We’re never doing that again,” He says firmly, but even as he does you can see the warmth in eyes, can see the way his shoulders have relaxed for the first time in 10 days. It was a rough case, a long case and though he thinks it’s inappropriate, it’s exactly what he needed.

“Never say never,” You tease, leaning in to capture his mouth with your own.

And though he’s just scolded your desecration of the jet’s bathroom, he kisses you with enough fervor to get you thinking about round two.