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persephonewritessometimes · 2 years ago

Note

Aaron Hotchner x bau!reader

Where after months ( cuz shes new n young working there)they cant také anymore their attraction to each other.

Key sentences: Hotch: I’m old enough to be your father. R: Should I call you Daddy then?

Smut n fluff

Please

Author's Note: oooo thank you for this request anon!! thinking many thoughts, head very full

Summary: It's no secret that you have a thing for your boss - a man 25 years your senior. What happens when he reveals he has feelings for you too?

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x (AFAB) Reader

Word Count: 5108 (i got carried away hehe)

Warnings: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!! UNDER 18? PLEASE KEEP SCROLLING! SMUT; DADDY KINK; SIR KINK; OVERSTIMULATION; MULTIPLE ORGASMS; UNPROTECTED P IN V (don't be like them y'all, stay safe); DOM!HOTCH, SUB!READER; READER IS HORNY; FINGERING; ORAL (F RECEIVING) reader gets distracted by Hotch's hands, pining, confession of feelings, reader blacks out from cumming really hard; Hotch calls reader "good girl, princess, baby"; Morgan is a cheeky bastard (as per usual)

This work is meant for readers aged 18 and over. You are responsible for your own media consumption.

“Y/N, you're staring, again," Morgan says with a chuckle and I quickly find somewhere else to look that isn't our section chief. Which I was definitely not having rated-R thoughts about.

"Shut up, Morgan," I mutter.

"Why don't you just tell him how you feel?" I turn and stare at him now, eyes wide in disbelief.

"Sure, why don't I just tell a much older man that every time I look at him, I feel weak in the knees and sweaty? That would really go over well." I say, sarcastically.

"We're getting tired of watching you eye-fuck him, Y/N." Emily sighs, jumping into the conversation.

"It's getting kind of pathetic at this point," Morgan adds and I smack him on the shoulder.

"You guys are being mean. Let me pine in peace."

"Y/N, none of us are at peace when you start acting like a dog in heat every time Hotch walks in the room. It's genuinely hard to watch." Morgan shoots back, grinning at me. I feel my cheeks grow hot at his brazen comment. "Just put us out of our misery and get laid for once, damn." I feel my cheeks growing even hotter.

"He - he doesn't like me like that." I'm tripping over my words, embarrassed that everyone can see what's clearly written by my body language when Hotch is around.

"Y/N, sweetie, you're smart, but sometimes you're an idiot," Emily says kindly. "He likes you."

"Trust us, we know," Morgan adds.

"How?" I say and cross my arms over my chest.

"Really? Okay. Whenever he's giving a briefing and you're standing next to him, his body gravitates towards yours, you're the first person he looks for in every room, Y/N, two weeks ago on that case in Charleston he almost throttled the officer that merely tried to flirt with you."

"Wait, that officer was flirting with me?" I've only been here a few months, so I haven't learned how to read people as well as him yet.

"Oh my god, she actually is an idiot." Morgan groans. "Yes! He always got you coffee refills without asking, offered you the first pick of the donuts, and gave you, and only you, a very thorough tour of the precinct. He was trying to impress you." He looks at me closely. "How the fuck did you get this job?" I shrug.

"Impeccable academic record?" I suggest timidly, and he snorts.

"Just pay attention to Hotch. More than you are already. You'll see."

"He's old enough to be my dad," I say.

"Why do I have the feeling that only fuels your fantasies?" Morgan mutters. "I'm done with this conversation. Either you tell him, Y/N, or I will."

"MORGAN!" He just throws his hands up in the air giving me an exasperated look. "Em? A little back up here?"

"As much as I hate to agree with Morgan, he has a point. It’s kind of hard to focus on work when we all know what’s going on except for you two. I mean this in the nicest way possible, but just say something, for the sake of everyone who has to be in a room with you guys. I could cut the tension between you two like a knife.” She gives me a small smile.

“I- I’m just nervous. What if you guys are wrong?” She places her hand over mine.

“We’re not wrong, Y/N. We even asked Reid to weigh in and he agrees with us. Just say something.” I frown and head back to my desk, needing to be alone with my thoughts for a while. I’m deep in a stack of paperwork when Hotch calls the team into a meeting. I sigh, set my pen aside, and make my way into the boardroom. I’m on high alert, due to Morgan’s comment, and as I step into the room, I glance at Hotch to find him already looking at me. He looks away quickly and I watch as the tips of his ears turn pink. Oh my god, they were right.

I’m hyper-aware of him the whole meeting, so much so that I barely heard a word he was saying.

“Y/N? Are you paying attention?” Hotch asks, looking at me.

“Uh, yes, sir.” I blurt out in a panic. I wasn’t expecting him to directly address me.

“YES SIR?” Morgan hollers. “That’s a new one.” Even Em is hiding a smile behind her hand. Hotch glares at him.

“Don’t tease her, Morgan. Y/N, please pay attention.”

“I will, sorry Hotch.” He just nods and goes back to what he was saying. I tried to pay attention I really did but I found myself watching his hands as he talked. He gestures at the screen, then to something in the paper he had given us, then puts his hand on his hip. His fingers are so thick I wonder if two would even fit inside of me. I’m thinking about him fingering me on his desk, pussy splayed and dripping for him, and I shift in my seat, feeling the wetness in my panties. Dammit, Y/N, don’t get carried away.

“Y/N, seriously,” Hotch sighs a few minutes later and I’m dragged from my dirty daydream. “I need you to pay attention or leave. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me today.”

“I’ve got an idea,” Morgan whispers with a grin. I glare at him.

“I’m trying to pay attention, I swear.”

“Are you sick? You look a bit warm, why don’t you step out for a few minutes.” I just nod, too embarrassed to look him in the eyes. “And I want to see you in my office when we’re done with this meeting.” I nod again and feel my stomach drop to my ass in nervousness. I quickly walk out of the room and am pacing when the door opens up and Morgan walks out, a shit-eating grin on his face.

“What the hell were you thinking about in there?” He whispers, then pauses, “Actually, I’m not sure I want to know.”

“Just leave me alone, Morgan. I’m embarrassed enough already.” I say quietly.

“Oh, baby girl, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to tease you too much. You’re just an easy target. If it helps any, Hotch was downright flushed after you left. He stumbled over his words. Twice. I’ve never seen him that flustered. It’s like he knew what you were thinking about.” He nudges me with his shoulder. “Don’t sweat it, okay?”

“You’re not the one who has to face him in his office,” I grumble.

“Well, just make sure you guys close the blinds.”

“MORGAN! Shut up!” He’s laughing as he walks away. JJ and Em shoot me sympathetic smiles as they walk by and Reid pats me on the shoulder. Hotch doesn’t say a word as he walks out of the boardroom, and I diligently follow him to his office.

“Take a seat.” He says, gesturing at the chair and my eyes follow his hand again. Y/N! Stop! That’s what got you in trouble in the first place! I quickly take a seat, clasping my hands in my lap. “Now do you want to tell me why you were so distracted today?” He asks, looking at me. I feel the heat creep up my chest and onto my cheeks.

“I-um-no. No, I don’t.” He raises an eyebrow at that.

“Really? Because Morgan seems to have an idea. Maybe I should go ask him what he thinks.”

“No!” I blurt out. “Sorry. It’s just…embarrassing.” He just looks at me and I sigh before whispering, “Your hands. I was distracted by your hands.”

“My…hands?” He says slowly.

“Yes, sir, I mean Hotch, sorry. I know it’s not appropriate and I apologize.”

“What is it about my hands?” He asks, his voice low and in a tone that makes my heartbeat travel down to my pussy. I shift in my seat, a movement that most likely does not go unnoticed by him. “Y/N. Look at me.” I take a shaky breath and look up at him, all rational thoughts leaving my head when I see that his cheeks are pink, and his pupils are so blown I can barely see the brown. “What is it. About my hands.” He enunciates every word.

“They’re big,” I whisper.

“And what does that make you think about?”

“Please don’t make me say it.”

“No, no I want to hear you say it.”

In the smallest voice possible I say, “I was wondering if your fingers would even fit in me.” I hear him take in a sharp breath. “What it would feel like to be spread out on your desk with - with your fingers inside of me.”

“Careful, Y/N, you’re walking a thin line.” He murmurs.

“Haven’t I crossed it already, sir?”

“I’m old enough to be your father.” He says, words clipped. I get a sudden burst of confidence and stare him down.

“Should I call you Daddy, then?” I ask sweetly. I watch as he tightens his jaw.

“Watch your mouth, little girl. You don’t want to see how mean Daddy can get.”

“And what if I want to find out, Daddy?” I watch as his nostrils flare and he takes a deep breath.

“That’s enough, Y/N.” He spits out and I still, and fear that I’m about to lose my job to ill-timed arousal. My breath hitches as he leans back in his chair, eyes carefully watching me. “What am I gonna do with you?”

“Whatever you’d like to, sir,” I say simply and I watch his jaw tick again.

“Listen to me very carefully. We are going to go downstairs, you are going to gather your things, and you are not going to say a single word. I’m going to tell everyone that you’re not feeling well enough to drive, so I’m taking you home.” I swallow hard, not believing that this is actually happening right now. “Do you understand?” I nod quickly. “I need to hear you say you understand. Or else this stops now, and we don’t speak of it again.”

“I understand completely, sir.”

“Good girl.” He says in a low voice and a whimper escapes me before I can shove it down. He stiffens. “Do you like that? Hearing that you’re a good girl?” My pussy clenches around nothing, begging to be filled.

“Yes, Daddy.” He hums, getting up quickly and my mouth goes dry when I see the tented fabric of his pants. He shrugs off his suit jacket and slings it over his forearm and in front of his body, effectively hiding his raging boner. He walks over to me, and I hastily get up from the chair, and he grabs my arm, gripping it just hard enough to keep me grounded and lucid despite the lust-filled thoughts in my head. He yanks open his office door and we make our way down the stairs. I keep my head down as we approach my desk, the bullpen so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

“Y/N isn’t feeling well. I’m driving her home.” Hotch says, letting go of my arm so I can grab my jacket and purse. I glance at him, nodding that I have everything, and he grabs my arm again, and we hastily walk towards the elevator.

“GO EASY ON HER, HOTCH!” Morgan shouts, and I hear Em laugh.

“Shut up, Morgan.” Hotch growls over his shoulder, and I glance back at Morgan, who mouths ‘Good luck’ at me. “Don’t look at him. The only person you should be looking at is me, princess.” We get in the elevator, and he pushes the button so hard I think that he’s going to break the damn thing.

“Jesus, what’s got you so riled up?” I say sweetly, not caring that I’d probably pay for that question later. I just want to see him snap, lose that carefully cultivated control and unleash himself on me. He turns on me in a second, caging my body between the wall of the elevator and the hard planes of his body. He grabs my chin, tilting my face up to look at him.

“Watch yourself. I’d hate for you to get into something you can’t handle.”

“I can take whatever you throw at me, sir.” He laughs.

“Yeah, right, princess. Keep talking a big game – we’ll see how far that gets you.”

“Well, it got me here, didn’t it?”

“Right where you wanted, I presume?” He asks, tilting his head and there’s nothing friendly in his eyes. I just nod, sucking in a breath when he pushes his body closer to mine and his hard-on is pressing into my thigh. “Before this goes further: green for go, yellow for slow down, red for hard stop, no questions asked. Do you understand?” I nod, and he raises his eyebrows.

“I understand!” I blurt out.

“Good.” He suddenly dips his head down, nose bumping into mine as we share the same breaths for a few seconds. “I’m going to ruin you.” He whispers onto my lips, not quite kissing me.

“Please. Ruin me, Daddy,” I whisper and he’s kissing me as soon as the last word is out of my mouth. It’s overwhelming, the way he kisses, stealing all the air from my lungs in a millisecond. I gasp when the hand from my chin drops to my chest, reaching into my dress shirt and under my tank top to tweak my right nipple. He takes that opportunity to slip his tongue into my mouth, tasting me. The elevator dings and his hand disappears from my shirt and his lips retreat. I whine at the sudden loss of contact, as we had just gone from 100 miles an hour to 0 miles an hour.

“I know, princess, I’m sorry. You don’t want Daddy to get caught, do you?” I shake my head vigorously and he chuckles, escorting me to his car, and opens the passenger door for me, ever the gentleman. He gets in and starts the car as I buckle my seatbelt. He backs out of the parking spot, placing one hand on the back of my headrest and I suck in a sharp breath. He glances at me. “Really? You’re turned on by my driving?”

“I can’t help it. I’m sorry.” I breathe out, not daring to look at him. My cheeks are warm, and I feel frazzled. I jump when his hand comes to rest on my thigh, dangerously close to where I want him. I shift my hips, trying to get him closer to where I need him. He smacks my thigh abruptly.

“Don’t do that. You can wait.” He says gruffly.

“I can’t. I can’t wait.” I gasp out. “Please. Please touch me. I need you. Please, sir, I’ll do anything.”

“I’ll oblige you, but only because you begged so prettily. I like it when you sound desperate. One rule though: no cumming without my permission.” His hand slips under my skirt and I thank god that this was one of the rare days I decided to wear one. His fingers ghost over my cunt, the lightest touch and my breathing is already starting to labor. When his fingers press my clit from outside my panties my hips buck into the air. “Someone’s responsive.” He says, more to himself than me. His fingers trail lower, and he groans when he feels the wet spot. “Already this wet for me, princess?”

“Only for you, Daddy.” I whimper when he pushes my panties to the side, hand now free to touch as he pleases. His fingers come up to tease my clit again before one deftly slips inside of me. I let out a choked sound, tight around him. Just one finger feels thick, and when he slips in another finger I keen, tightening again.

“Jesus, you’re tight.” He curls his fingers and hits that spot inside of me that I struggle to hit by myself. I gasp, hand closing around his wrist, and I don’t know if I’m trying to stop him or egg him on. He continues to work his fingers in me as he drives and I’m not sure how he’s managing to stay on the road. I know I should reciprocate but the feeling of his fingers plunging in and out of me has made every thought I’ve ever had flee my brain. After a few minutes, my thighs start to shake and I’m panting, so close to a mind-blowing orgasm that I forget he told me I can’t cum without his permission. His fingers slip out of me seconds before I hit my peak.

“NO!” I shout, shaking in the passenger seat, sitting in a small puddle of my own arousal. I hope it stains his impeccable leather seats.

“Only good girls get to cum, and you haven’t been a good girl today, baby,” He says, “Open.” I open my mouth and he slips the fingers he just had inside of me into my awaiting mouth. I suck his fingers off earnestly, just like I would to his cock if he gave me the chance. He pulls his fingers out with a pop and I realize he’s parked the car in his garage. Is this really happening? I think to myself. “Color?” He asks me, turning my face so I can look into his eyes. I could get lost in his eyes.

“Green,” I say quickly.

“Good girl,” He whispers and meets my mouth in a messy kiss full of tongue, need, and teeth.

I don’t know how we made it inside, but as soon as I cross through the doorway, Hotch throws me over his shoulder, and I shriek. He carries me to the bedroom, dropping me on the bed. I’m paralyzed as I watch him rip his tie off, dress shirt following soon after. He’s beautiful, and I want to run my hands all over him and feel every scar. My eyes are tracing his chest and ever the profiler, he notices.

“You can touch. It’s okay.” He walks over to me, planting himself between my legs. I timidly touch his stomach, trailing my hands up his abdomen, running my fingers along his scars in quiet admiration. He suddenly takes my hand, kissing it, a break in the dominant façade. I give him a soft smile, one that has always been reserved for him, and his breath hitches in his chest. His hands cup my face, looking into my eyes, and I’ve never felt safer than I have at this moment. I close my eyes, leaning into his touch, my hands resting on his wrists. It feels like we’re the only people in the world, two souls destined to collide. His next kiss is gentle as if he doesn’t want to ruin the moment, but he tosses his resolve out the window when I bite his bottom lip. He growls, pushing me onto my back and stepping out of his pants and boxers. I push myself up on my elbows to watch him and gasp when he’s revealed to me completely. He’s big. Bigger than I’ve had before. I knew it would be big because of his damn hands. “You’re far too dressed for my liking.” He mutters, and the next moment he actually rips my shirt off of me, buttons flying everywhere.

“HOTCH!” He stops, looking at me.

“Try again, sweetheart.”

“Sorry. Daddy.”

“Much better. And Daddy will buy you a new one, okay?” I nod, suddenly unable to think as he slides off my tank top and unclasps my bra. My nipples are aching to be touched and as if he can read my mind, his head dips down to take my left nipple in his mouth. I suck in a breath, my hand coming to rest on the back of his head. His tongue laves over my nipple, and I swear I see God for a moment. He moves to the other side and my cunt is begging for attention. He slides my skirt and panties off without once leaving my chest. And when I’m naked before him, he kisses his way up my throat, leaving hickeys that will definitely be hard to hide.

“Daddy, people will see.”

“And? They should know whom you belong to.” He says plainly, he leans back, admiring my form and my hips jump up on their own accord, grazing his weeping tip in the process.

“Fuck, princess, don’t do that.”

“Please, please, please, Daddy, I need you so bad.”

“Daddy has to make sure you’re ready for him. I don’t know if my fat cock will fit in your tight little pussy.” I whimper at his words, more turned on than I’ve ever been in my entire life. He slides down my body, pressing kisses into my skin as he goes until he gets on his knees, dragging me towards the edge of the bed. He slings both of my legs over his shoulder, pressing a chaste kiss into my thigh. “Your pussy is dripping for me, princess. Can I taste it?”

“Please,” I manage to whisper, and I watch as his head dips down and he licks up my pussy. He groans against my clit when he tastes me, and I shout in surprise at the added stimulation. He chuckles against me and goes to work, tongue thrusting shallowly in me before coming up to tease my clit. He’s getting me closer to the edge and when I feel two of his fingers slide into me easily, I sigh contentedly. He finds the spongy spot inside of me with ease, hitting it every time he thrusts his fingers into me. I’m hurtling towards my peak when I gasp out, “Daddy, please, I’m close, can I cum? Please? I’ll be a good girl, I promise. Your good girl.” His eyes flick up and he watches me, never stopping, and watches as my abdomen tenses and I start to clench around his fingers, panting. He pulls his mouth away from me just long enough to whisper,

“You can let go, princess.” And resumes his torturous pace on me. My hand shoots down to grip his hair and a few seconds later my orgasm rips through me. I shout loudly, hips moving with abandon against his face, and he doesn’t let up, continuing to lick and finger me through it until I’m twitching with overstimulation.

“Daddy, please, too much.”

“You wanted to cum, princess, so you’re going to cum until I’m done.” He growls and goes back to eating me out. I had no time to come down from my first orgasm and my body is already sprinting full speed ahead toward my second. My thighs clench around his face but it doesn’t stop him. He stills his fingers inside me and simply presses them into my G-spot, never letting up, just putting constant pressure on it.

I’m babbling at this point, nothing coherent coming from my lips except for ‘daddy’ and ‘please’. My orgasm blindsides me and I clench hard around his fingers and scream, not caring if anyone can hear me. My vision goes spotty as I continue to cum until he finally slips his fingers out and I feel like I can breathe again. I’m gasping for air as his touch trails along my hips.

“Still with me, pretty girl?” I nod still gasping. “Color?”

“Green, green, green.” I pant out quickly and he chuckles. He gives me a few more seconds to come down, tracing gentle patterns into my sides and he kisses me once my breathing slows. I pull away to bite my way down his neck, leaving my own marks on him. “Daddy, need you inside me, please.”

“Are you sure you’re ready for me, princess?”

“Yes! Yes! So ready! Please just fuck me!”

“Okay, let me grab a condom.”

“No!” I shout, grabbing his shoulders. “I’m clean. Please, I want to feel you. Just you.”

“You’re going to be the death of me, you know that?” He says, kissing the tip of my nose. I watch as he pumps himself a few times and lines up with my entrance. He pushes in, just barely, and stays there until I’m begging him to push the rest of the way in.

“Please, Daddy, I want to feel full. I feel so empty.” He sheathes himself in me in one quick motion and I gasp. “Thank you, Daddy,” I whisper onto his lips.

“Fucking hell, Y/N, you’re so goddamn tight.” He’s still above me, and I can see his shoulders shaking in restraint. “You feel like heaven.”

“Please move, please. Let go, I can take it.” I whisper, peering into his eyes and he pulls out a little bit to thrust shallowly. He swallows my moan with his lips, kissing me with the fervor of a man starved. He starts off at a slow pace and despite being sensitive from my previous two orgasms, I need more. I dig my nails into his shoulder. “Please, for the love of God, fuck me. Hard. Please. I can take it. All of it.” He looks at me hard, searching for any hesitation, but his dick is literally inside of me, so there’s no hesitation on my part. I nod up at him and he leans down to kiss me as he starts to set a brutal pace. His hips are slamming against mine and when I shift my hips up to meet his thrusts he hits my G-spot with every thrust. “SHIT!” I shout, the words quickly turning into a loud moan as his thumb comes down to flick at my clit. I’m shaking with arousal, and I can feel his balls slap against my ass with how hard he’s fucking me.

“Come on, pretty girl, I know you’ve got one more in you. Give it to Daddy. I want to feel you cum around my cock.” There are no thoughts in my head anymore, everything in me has zeroed in on the feeling of him literally fucking me into the mattress. “You look so pretty fucked out like this, bet you can’t think of anything but my cock inside of you, huh?” I nod and he laughs, kissing me hard. He leans back just enough to change the angle by shifting my calf onto his shoulder. He thrusts, hard, and I whimper. “You make such pretty sounds when I’m fucking you.” He picks up the pace again, moving his thumb on my clit in tight circles. I let out a broken moan as he hits just the right spot inside of me, and he takes note of it, hitting the same spot repeatedly, thumb keeping its pace on my clit. It’s overwhelming and I know that this orgasm is going to ruin other men for me. No one can do it like him. “Y/N,” his voice is low, “Look at me, baby, I want to watch you fall apart.” I drag my eyes open and look at him with dazed eyes. One particularly hard thrust and a drag of his thumb over my clit and I’m cumming violently, thrashing against him and gripping the bed sheets, my body spasming and I feel him fuck me through it and spill inside of me with a shouted curse before I black out.

I come to and can feel a warm washcloth being dragged between my legs gingerly. I hiss at the contact.

“Oh, thank god, are you okay?” I nod, throat raspy from screaming. “Can I get you anything?” I shake my head no, and the warm washcloth returns, I jump at the sensation. “I know, I have to clean you up though, okay?” He finishes in the next couple of moments and throws the washcloth into the hamper.

“How long was I out?” I say softly.

“Five minutes? Maybe six.” I nod.

“Sorry.”

“Sorry? Y/N, that was the biggest ego boost I’ve had in years.” He chuckles and I let out a weak laugh.

“Help me up?” I whisper, holding my hands out toward him. He obliges, gently grabbing my hands and pulling me into a sitting position. My vision starts to go spotty again. “Oh, Jesus,” I say, starting to slump forwards. His arms wrap around me quickly, holding me against his chest until my vision starts to return to normal. His thumbs are rubbing my back and I wish I could stay in this moment forever. “I’m okay, I think,” I whisper after a minute and try to pull away but he only lets me get a few inches away, eyes worriedly searching my face. “Hotch, I’m fine. I swear. Now let me go so I can go pee.” He lets go of me slowly and when I stand up to walk toward the bathroom, my legs buckle underneath me. “Oh, come on!” I exclaim, but Hotch is right there to catch me. He scoops me up despite my protests and carries me bridal style to the bathroom, setting me down on the toilet. “Thank you,” I whisper, suddenly embarrassed.

“No, don’t do that. I can see you trying to hide, getting embarrassed.”

“Am I that obvious?”

“Yeah, when your guard is down, you’re easy to read.”

“So, uh, do we just pretend this never happened? Go back to the way things were. I assume that’s what you want?” I bury my face in my hands, unable to look at him.

“Go back to the way things were? Y/N, baby, no. I can’t go back. This was not a one-time thing. I’m yours if you’ll have me.” I peek at him from between my fingers.

“Wait, you’re being serious right now?”

“Dead serious.” He gets on his knees in front of me. “I’ve wanted you from the first moment you walked into my office. I just didn’t think you’d reciprocate, until Morgan made a comment two months ago about your body language, and that’s when I had the hunch you felt the same way.”

“So, you’ve known I’ve been pining over you for months and didn’t think to say anything?” My pitch gets higher as the sentence goes on.

“I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“Yes, I’m clearly uncomfortable with you as I’m sitting in front of you, naked,” I say drily and he laughs again.

“Yeah, I know, I’m an idiot.”

“Yes, you are,” I say, smiling, before adding, “But you’re my idiot.” His eyes brighten at that.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. As you said, I’m yours if you’ll have me.”

“Good. Because I’m never letting go of you.” I feel my cheeks grow warm.

“Good, because I don’t want you to.”

#hotch x y/n #hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #hotch #hotch x reader #criminal minds #aaron hotchner #hotch smut

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medusapelagia · 11 months ago

Text

We are not making sense at all

written for the Spicy Six Winter Fanworks Challenge by @thefreakandthehair

Rating: General Relationship: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson Prompt: Warm Soup WT: Pre-relationship, sickfic, sick character(s), Christmas 1985 WC: 5108

Christmas was never Eddie's favorite holiday, it always reminded him how lonely he was: no family to spend the holiday with, only Wayne who usually worked at Christmas for the double pay. A few times Gareth parents have tried to invite him but he always declined the invitation and buried himself in his trailer, watching silly Christmas movies, eating chips, and drinking beer on the couch like his old man. What a legacy, right?

But this time is even worse: not only he is home alone, but he is also sick. The metalhead has done his best to hide it from Wayne but now that he is finally alone he can’t stop coughing and sneezing and the floor of the trailer is covered in crumpled tissues that he is too tired to throw in the bin, while his neighbors are celebrating playing some Christmas music so loud that the trailer is almost vibrating. He can’t really complain, after all, he is used to playing metal music so he assumes he can endure hearing Jingle Bells for the umpteenth time: what he really can’t stand is the phone that keeps ringing. It seems that every person who knows him has decided to call him to wish him a Merry Christmas, which is probably fair, it’s Christmas after all, but all Eddie would like to do is nap on the lumpy couch while watching some stupid movies about Santa Claus or any other Christmas Miracle. His favorite movie is Little Lord Fauntleroy: even if he is too old to still indulge in such fantasies, he still dreams that one day a rich parent will reach out to him, telling him that he searched for him for years and that he is actually super rich and he can leave Hawkins whenever he wants.

He will take Wayne with him, of course, and he will miss the Corroded Coffin and the Party, but the Corroded Coffin are destined to split up as soon as Gareth and Jeff go to college so he doesn’t feel too bad at the idea of abandoning them.

But that’s just a fantasy.

Eddie coughs again, while the stupid phone keeps ringing; when he finally gathers the strength to stand up and get to the phone, Dustin’s happy voice wishes him Merry Christmas, asking him how is he going to spend it and telling him that if he wants he can still join him and his family.

Eddie sighs, Dustin doesn’t have a huge family either, it’s just him, his mum, and probably Steve Harrington, and not only he doesn’t want Dustin’s pity, but he is pretty sure he doesn’t want to spend Christmas with Harrington either. And he is sick, which is the perfect excuse to finally shut up the little shrimp.

“Thank you Dustin, but I’m feeling a little bit under the weather, I don't want you to catch any of my germs.” He says, coughing for good measure.

“Oh no! Being sick at Christmas is the worst! One year I got sick and I had to spend Christmas in bed, it was awful! Thankfully Santa still brought me some toys and I could play a little in the afternoon when I felt a little bit better, but waking up with a fever on Christmas day is no fun!” he tells him “Do you need anything? I could ask Steve to drive me to the trailer! I have a few comics that you haven’t read yet.”

“Don’t worry, I’m good, I just need to sleep a little and I’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure? I’m sure Steve will not mind.”

In which world Harrington will not mind getting to the Freak’s trailer on Christmas to bring him some comics?

Eddie chuckles, pretty sure that not only he would mind but he would be really pissed, even if probably he’ll do it if Dustin asks him to. It’s incredible how that little shrimp has both of them wrapped around his finger like two stupid puppets, but no, thanks, Eddie still has enough self-respect “I’m good, I swear. Thank you for offering.”

“If you are sure…” Dustin finally agrees, even if he doesn’t sound one hundred percent sure about it.

After the call Eddie decides to unplug the phone and gets back to his couch, ready to spend the rest of the day napping and watching television.

***

He must have dozed off for longer than he thought because when he opens his eyes he doesn’t even know what he is watching on the television and the room is way darker than it was. For a moment he wonders if he woke up on his own, but then he hears the insistent knocking on the trailer door and finally gets up to open the door.

“Did you forget the keys, old man?” Eddie asks, convinced that Wayne is the one knocking, but he freezes when he sees that the person on the other side of the door is nothing less than Steve Harrington, fallen school king, ex-jock and richest boy in town.

“Hi.” He says, smiling, holding a Tupperware in his hands “Henderson said you are not feeling well.” But when Eddie doesn’t move he chuckles “Will you let me in or what?”.

Eddie moves from the door and lets the Harrington’s boy enter his trailer. As soon as he turns toward the living room he understands that there is no way he can hide how messy he is: there is a pile of tissues all over the floor, and the remains from his breakfast are still on the kitchen table.

“I… I…” he tries to come up with an excuse but Steve simply smiles.

“It’s ok. You are not feeling well.” He replies, getting closer to the kitchen “Can I have a pot, please?”

Eddie nods and gives him the only clean one that he finds and, even if it’s way bigger than needed, Steve takes it and pours the content of his Tupperware into the pot.

“Claudia made it?” Eddie asks, smelling the tasty soup that Steve is heating.

“Nope. It’s my nonna recipe. It’s a foolproof method against the cold.” He tells him.

“Your nonna made it?”

“Well, the recipe is her, but she died almost ten years ago so I’m the one who actually cooked it. I’m sorry it took a bit, but you can’t rush perfection, right?” Steve smirks and Eddie stares at him, astonished.

“That’s really kind but… why are you doing this?”

Steve shrugs “You know Dustin, right? He was worried about you and made me promise that I would check on you and I agreed.”

“And the soup?”

“It does wonder, you’ll see.” He promises, stirring the soup while Eddie sits on the chair, watching Steve move around with ease: the trailer’s kitchen is really small but Steve seems to find everything he needs even if he has never been there before.

“How can I help you?” Eddie finally asks, feeling like a guest in his own room.

“Can you give me a couple of bowls?” Steve asks, then turns, bushing “Sorry, I just assumed it was ok with you if I eat here but I just realized that I should have asked.”

“No… it’s fine. You cooked, so the least I can do is offer you a bowl and a spoon.”

If the smell isn’t enough, the taste is absolutely delicious, and Eddie is very vocal about how much he likes it, singing Steve’s praises.

“It’s just a warm soup.” He tells him, avoiding Eddie’s stare and preparing a bowl for Wayne to reheat in the microwave.

“It’s absolutely delicious!” Eddie insists. Wayne is a kind man but he is no cook and all they are used to eating are pre-made dinners that he heats in the microwave, so eating a magical soup that will nurse him back to health is something really special to Eddie.

“I’m glad you liked it.” Steve says, cleaning the bowls and what was left from breakfast before Eddie can stop him.

“Would you like to watch a movie with me?” Eddie proposes, then he suddenly feels ashamed “Sorry, I’m sure you have better things to do than staying here with me. You already brought me the soup… and I don’t want you to catch whatever my illness so please ignore me… I don’t know why I asked you…”

“It’s fine. I have a very strong immune system and I don’t have anywhere to be, to be honest: Robin is at his Uncle’s home and I told Dustin that I was coming here so my choices are watching a movie with you or at my place.”

“No date for King Steve?”

Steve chuckles “No, no date Eddie.”

It’s the first time Steve calls him Eddie and it sounds nice.

They sit together on Eddie’s little couch, their knees bump when they sit and Eddie laughs awkwardly, embarrassed to be so close to King Steve “All the movies I have are either western or horror movies, I fear.” He says, kneeling on the floor to look at the pile of VHS.

“It’s fine, I work in a video store, and I’m used to watching every kind of movie.” Stevee replies, making himself comfortable.

They are halfway through an old western when Eddie turns toward Steve, his profile is lit up by the black-and-white movie on the screen.

“Hey, Steve.”

“Mmh?”

“Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.”

***

Somewhere between the second half of the movie, Eddie must have fallen asleep, because when he opens his eyes he is lying on the couch and there is no trace of Harrington anywhere.

For a moment he wonders if he might have dreamed of him, but his Tupperware is still on the kitchen counter and Wayne is eating the soup.

“Nice boy.”

“Uh?”

“Steve, I think? Chestnut hair and kind smile?”

“Oh, yeah. He came because he knew I was sick.”

Wayne nods “As I said. Nice guy. And good cook.” He concludes, eating his soup.

Eddie nods, getting up and going to sit next to Wayne.

“Are you feeling any better?”

“Much better, actually. Steve said it’s the soup. It has some magical properties.”

“Bet it does.” The old man replies, ruffling Eddie’s hair “You know you can tell me anything, right boy?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

Wayne nods and turns to clean his bowl.

“What? What are you implying?” Eddie asks, confused.

“Nothing. I’m going to bed, do you want to keep watching the television?”

Eddie shakes his head and goes to bed, still wondering how was it possible that King Steve came to his rescue.

***

Two days later Dustin is at Eddie’s door.

“What?” Eddie asks annoyed, he is not used to waking up so early when he doesn’t have to go to school, that’s what holidays are for: sleep.

The boy gives him a very serious look before saying “It’s Steve.”

“What about him?”

“I called him and he didn’t answer.”

Eddie sighs “Dustin, he is a young boy, he is probably dating someone and he slept at their place, that’s what older boys do. Now go home and don’t bother me again.”

“No. Not Steve.”

Eddie snorts “If there is someone who is going on dates is definitely your friend Harrington.”

“You don’t get it, Steve always answers. Always. Especially if I call him on the walkie! But he didn’t! Neither yesterday nor today.”

Eddie sighs, pinching his nose “And what do you want me to do?”

“I want you to go to Steve’s house: you can pick a lock, right?”

“What?! I’m not going to risk two years for break and enter because Harrington fell asleep after fucking someone!” Eddie protests, crossing his arms and glaring at the kid.

“It’s not like that! We just have to be sure he is fine! Robin is not here or I would have asked her! Steve doesn’t have anyone else: just the two of us.” He says seriously and Eddie can’t suppress a smile.

“You are serious, aren’t you?”

“I definitely am.”

Eddie sighs “Ok, I’ll go check on your babysitter, but I want you to go back home, ok?”

“What if he needs help? He had two concussions in the past, I know how to help him and…”

“If he needs that kind of help I’ll drag him to the hospital, but I’m sure he’ll be out with some pretty girl and if you really want me to pick the lock of the richest house in town I don’t want any kid around, is that clear?”

“But…”

“Is that clear?”

Dustin nods, unconvinced, and then glares at Eddie “You call me the moment you find him, ok?”

“I’m telling you he won’t be there.”

“I’m telling you he will be, I checked and his car was parked in front of his house!”

Eddie raises his arms with a sigh “Ok, fine, I’ll call you, ok? Now go, and don’t bike here again! It’s dangerous.”

Dustin nods and gets back to his bike yelling “Call me, Eddie!” one more time before biking back toward his home.

Eddie sighs, gets back inside, puts on his leather jacket, and takes the van keys before driving toward Harrington’s house.

When he gets to Loch Nora he sees Steve’s BWM parked right in front of the house, as Dustin said.

Eddie rings the bell and knocks on the door until his knuckles hurt but none comes open.

“Harrington?” he calls, moving around the house to find an easy way to get in without breaking a window or picking a lock in the middle of the day. He tries every window until he sees that one window on the second floor is ajar. Cursing himself for his poor gymnastic skill, somehow he manages to climb toward the window and get inside, landing on the floor with a loud thump.

The room he is in is definitely Steve’s, even if the boy is nowhere to be seen and the bed is still perfectly made. Eddie moves around the other rooms but Steve is nowhere to be seen, so he gets to the living room to call Dustin to tell him that Steve is probably outside, having the time of his life, when he sees a figure wrapped in so many blankets that looks like a cocoon.

“Harrington?” he calls, and a pitiful voice answers him back.

Eddie runs down the stairs and gets closer to the boy “Hey, Harrington, are you ok?” he asks, but he can feel how hot Steve is even under all the blankets.

“Fuck. I think you got my virus.” Eddie curses, and Steve sneezes as a confirmation “Ok, don’t worry, I’m going to take care of you, ok big boy? Do you have some fever medicine somewhere?”

“Bathroom…” Steve murmurs in a small voice, and Eddie runs upstairs to the bathroom and comes back with a few medicines and a thermometer.

He takes Steve’s temperature, which is way too high, and tries to suggest calling a doctor, but Steve is adamant he doesn’t want to, so all that Eddie can do is help him sip some water and take a few pills.

When Steve falls asleep the older boy calls Dustin, informing him that Steve is sick but that he doesn’t have to worry because he will take care of him and he does, the metalhead helps him drink some hot tea, go to the bathroom and finally convince him to go to sleep in his bed and not on the couch.

“Can I call your parents?” Eddie asks, changing the wet towel on Steve’s forehead.

“They are in Paris. Or Rome. Don’t remember.”

“I can’t leave you alone like that.”

“I’m fine.”

“No, you are not. Tell me who I can call to keep an eye on you or I’ll drive you to the hospital.”

Steve murmurs something that sounds like “Hopper” but Eddie knows that the chief died in the fire at the mall a few months before “I’m serious, Steve. You can’t be left alone like this.”

But the boy is already asleep, so he sighs and goes back to the living room to call Wayne.

“Hey, Wayne.”

“Kid? You ok?”

“Yeah. I’m at Harrington. I think he got my virus but much worse. Do you mind if I keep an eye on him? He is home alone.”

“Not at all, just pay attention.”

“I got sick before, I’m not going to get sick again.”

“That’s not what I’m talking about.” Wayne whispers and Eddie frowns, confused, but doesn’t comment.

When he gets in the kitchen to make himself a sandwich he sees Steve’s nonna recipe on the kitchen table and decides to try to make it.

Eddie has never cooked before in his life, but the instructions are pretty easy: he follows them step by step, and an hour later the same smell of warm soup fills the air. He takes a couple of bowls and gets back to Steve’s room.

“Steve? Wake up. Stevie, come on. You have to eat something.” He tells him while he gently shakes Steve to wake him.

“Mum?” the boy asks with feverish eyes.

“Just me, Eddie.”

“Oh. Eddie. Sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry about, you were probably dreaming, am I right?”

The younger boy nods, then looks at the bowl that the metal head is offering him “Is it…?”

“It is. Or at least I think it is. I followed the instructions step by step.” He replies, helping Steve sit up and giving him the spoon, but the boy is shaking so much that Eddie quickly resolves to spoon-feed him, slowly.

“So much for your strong immune system, uh?” the metalhead mocks him, cleaning Steve’s lips with a napkin.

“I’m sorry…”

“Stop saying you are sorry. You are sick and you need a little bit of help, it’s ok to need help sometimes, you know that, right?”

“Shouldn’t. I’m a Harrington.” He replies, covering his eyes with an arm.

“What the hell does that mean? Sorry to break it to you, but you are human, like everyone else.” Eddie tells him, tucking his blankets.

“It’s just a cold.”

“Yeah, I don’t think so, but even if it was you have the right to feel like shit and have someone take care of you.” Eddie insists, giving him some water and a couple of pills to lower his fever “And if by tomorrow you are not feeling any better I’m going to call a doctor, even if you don’t like it.”

“I had the soup. I’ll be alright.” Steve replies convinced, his eyes half closed, and Eddie lets him fall asleep, he is not sure Steve will feel better in the morning, but even if he doesn’t he is not going to let him be alone in that big house, he will probably call Dustin’s mum, or Wayne, or some other adult that really knows how to take care of a sick person, for the moment he sits on the floor of Steve’s bedroom, watching his chest rise and fall like and hawk.

***

Maybe it was the soup, as Steve insists, or maybe Steve’s fever just broke on his own with the help of a few pills, but the next day the rich boy looks way better than the night before.

“Told you. That soup is magic. Thank you for cooking it for me.”

“I guessed your mum cooked it for you every time you got sick, uh?” Eddie asks, giving him the cup of tea he already prepared for him. No coffee or milk after you have been unwell, it’s a core part of Munson’s doctrine.

“Nah. Just my nonna. But she was Italian, so she wasn’t around often.” Steve replies, thanking him for the tea, and sipping it slowly.

“Well, my mum wasn’t around either, but Wayne did his best to make up for it.” Eddie replies, eating some eggs.

“He seems like a good man. We had a little chat when you were feeling under the weather.”

“I’m surprised he didn’t try to scare you away with his rifle.” Eddie snorts.

“He actually did. Or at least he threatened me that he would have taken the rifle if I didn’t leave, but after I clarified that I wasn’t a thief and that there was some soup for him he became really nice.” Steve sips some more tea and then he asks “How did you know I was feeling unwell?”

“Henderson. He can be really annoying, or persuasive, it depends, in any case he insisted that someone had to check on you. He actually asked me to break into your house! Luckily for me, there was a window ajar in your bedroom and I got in from there.”

Steve smiles “Yeah, Dustin can be annoying but I love him, and don’t laugh at me, I know he is just a kid, but he is like a little brother to me.”

“Yeah. I get it, I think I feel the same, even if I must confess that I was fucking jealous of Steve Harrington. You have no idea how many times he mentions you every day! Steve did that, Steve said this, Steve is going to drive me here and there… Every day he talks about you! You are his fucking hero!”

Steve scoffs, blushing so softly and Eddie can’t avoid wondering if he would blush so sweetly even under the sheets “Dustin and I have some history. I helped him with some… projects. That’s all. I’m not the super cool Dungeon Master that plays his stupid game.”

“Hey! That’s not a stupid game! It’s really hard to be a good DM!” Eddie complains, crunching another cookie and letting the crumbles fall everywhere.

Steve’s hands twitch, getting a towel to clean the table, but in the end, he desists and keeps drinking his tea.

“I don’t doubt it. Dustin tried to explain it to me but I’m too stupid to understand it.” Steve says, avoiding Eddie’s stare, but the metalhead reaches for his hand.

“Hey, you are not stupid. The game it’s complicated, but if you want I can teach you.”

Steve chuckles “Thanks but if I couldn’t understand it on a good day I doubt I’ll understand it today.”

“Still feeling shitty?”

“Not too bad but, yeah, I think I have been better.”

Eddie clicks his tongue “Do you think you’ll be alright if I get back to the trailer? I can be back in the evening but I don’t want Wayne to worry.”

“There is no need for you to come back tonight, I’m feeling so much better.”

“And renounce the opportunity to see cable television on such a huge screen?” Eddie smirks and Steve nods.

“Ok, you can hang out at my place for the holidays if that’s what you were thinking, but I’ll have to go back to work tomorrow or Keith will definitely fire me.”

Eddie agrees, but before leaving he reminds Steve that he is going to get back in the evening “Do you think you’ll feel good enough to have some pizza tonight? There is a new pizza place, Garreth says is sick but I have never been.”

Steve smiles and Eddie can’t help but smile back at him “Pizza sounds good, but no beer for me.”

“Got it!” Eddie replies, getting in the van and driving home.

***

In the evening Eddie goes back to Steve’s house with a couple of pizzas and a six-pack.

“Thank you Eddie but I told you that I wasn’t going to drink beer.”

“Oh, that’s for me.”

“All of them?”

“Yeah, are you judging me, Harrington?”

Steve shakes his head while they sit at the table.

“How was your day?” Eddie asks, taking a slice of pizza from the box with his hands and starting to eat it straight away.

“I dozed off on the couch and watched some old movies.” Steve replies, taking a plate to eat his pizza and Eddie feels immediately ashamed for his manners.

“Sorry…” he mumbles with his mouth still full but Steve just smiles.

“You are just like Dustin. I like that.”

“You like my lack of manners?”

“I like your freedom.” He replies, cutting the pizza with fork and knife, before eating a little piece “My mum was really fond of etiquette, I learned what was the right fork for each food before I was tall enough to get to the table on my own. I would have loved to eat some pizza with my hands, getting my face dirty with tomato sauce or whatever.”

“Oh… we can fix that.” Eddie replies, taking another piece and offering it to Steve “Come on, take it. Take and eat it: with your hands, as a huge fuck you to your family. How does it sound?”

Steve stares at the piece of pizza for a long time and finally takes it from Eddie’s hand, giving a tentative bite, and immediately covering his mouth with the other hand “It tastes better if you don’t cover your mouth.” Eddie winks and Steve lowers his hand, showing a little smudge of tomato sauce on the side of his lips that Eddie cleans with his thumb, before licking it without even thinking about it.

It’s only when he feels Steve freeze that he realizes what he has done and whitens “Fuck. I’m sorry. Wayne used to do it with me and…”

“It’s… it’s ok.” Steve replies, blushing, then he changes the argument “The pizza it’s tastier like this.” He confirms and Eddie beams.

“Told you. That’s part of the sacred Munson’s doctrine.”

“Tell me more about this doctrine.” Steve asks, while he takes another piece of pizza with his hands and Eddie talks about everything: about the game he loves so much, about the Theatre Room where they play, about his opinion on jocks and laundry baskets players “Present company excluded, obviously.”

“Obviously.”

The more Eddie talks with Steve, the more he finds out that the other boy is not half bad. They spend the day chatting and when it’s time for Eddie to get back to the trailer Steve offers him one of the guest rooms “It’s not safe letting you drive after all the beers you drunk.”

“That’s nothing, weren’t you the Keg King?”

“Once, now I’m a big brother and I worry. It’s part of the job description.”

“I’m older than you.” Eddie points out but Steve shrugs and guides him toward the guest room.

“Choose whatever you want.”

Eddie nods and chooses the first room he sees, but when Steve comes into the room to give him towels and toiletries, Eddie grins “Hey, Steve?”

“Uh?”

“What do you think Dustin would say if we became friends?”

“He will be happy, I think?”

“Maybe at the beginning… but I’m sure you know a lot of embarrassing stories about him, and I know a few too, so… what do you say if we exchange intel and we gang upon him?”

Steve smirks “Are you suggesting we torture the little shrimp? Together?”

“He deserves it!”

“He definitely does. He keeps mocking me for my beauty routine.”

Eddie snorts “Do you have a beauty routine?”

“Fuck you, Munson. I don’t want to exchange anything with you.”

“Sorry. Sorry. My fault. I will not mock you, pinkie promise.”

They share a look and then they shake hands.

“Come, sit here. I have so many stories to tell you.” Eddie says, scooting over to make space for Steve on the bed and the chestnut boys lies with him, exchanging stories about how Dustin lost his cat and somehow convinced him to search for it in the woods, while Eddie recalls the first time he saw him in the cafeteria with his signature thinking cap.

“That boy is something, isn’t he?” Eddie asks, and when he doesn’t hear a reply he turns toward Steve, only to find him asleep and gently snoring. He brushes some hair away from his face, covers them both with the blanket and falls asleep in Steve’s comfy bed.

***

One week later none expect it when, on the first day of school after the holidays, Steve goes to pick up Robin and Dustin, and the the jock and the metalhead hug in the parking lot as if they were best friends who haven’t seen each other in years.

“What the hell is happening?” Dustin asks, darting his eyes between the two of them.

Eddie puts an arm around Steve’s shoulder with ease “You wanted us to get closer, didn’t you, Dustin?”

“Yeah but…”

“Well, we did.” Steve concludes “Now get in the car before Robin and I lose another job!”

They are halfway toward Dustin’s house when Steve asks “So: is it true that you farted during the last campaign and you tried to pretend it was the chair?”

Robin snorts and Dustin freezes “It was the chair! And how do you know… oh no… oh no!” Dustin exclaims, his eyes wide with terror “Please, tell me that’s not true! Why did you have to talk about me!”

“You are the only thing Eddie and I have in common, we bonded thanks to you. Aren’t you happy?” Steve winks and Dustin is still grumbling something when Steve leaves him at his house, before driving Robin toward Family Video.

“So. You and Munson, uh?” the girl asks in a cautious way.

“Yeah. It’s nice to have a friend my age, you know?”

She punches Steve’s shoulder “I’m your age, dingus!”

“But you are a girl! He is a boy! It’s different.”

Robin glowers at him “Steven Joseph Harrington, did you replace me with Eddie the Freak Munson?”

“Never! You are my best friend. Eddie is just… different. It’s easy to talk with him, you know? And he is very funny, he makes me laugh a lot and we have a great time together.”

“Talking, uh? And what about Heidi?”

“Oh, we were supposed to go out on a date but Eddie wanted to hang out and… what? Don’t look at me like that!” Steve complains, turning into the Family Video parking lot.

Robin sighs, gets their uniforms from the back and sighs“I’m glad you finally found a special friend.”

“Come on. I just made him my nonna’s soup when he was sick. It’s not like it means something.”

Robin takes her uniform, but before closing herself in the bathroom to change she turns to say to him “If you are going to be kissed by a boy before I get kissed by a girl I’m going to be super pissed!”

And Steve stares at the bathroom door, confused, that’s not what it is! It’s just a friendship! Right?

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