Wildcard (A.H. x Reader x S.R.)

Chapter 3 - Control

"Now you're free and wild,

Just give it a while,

Time will tell,

You're under my spell,

There ain't no runnin' from me..."

-No Running From Me – Toulouse

Your head fell back, resting against Hotchner's very muscular shoulder, your eyes closing as you tried to catch your breath. "Jesus..." was all that fell out of your mouth. You were about to prepare to get shoved out the door and kicked out at who knows what time it is.

"Yeah," Hotchner breathed, agreeing with the unspoken commandment to the intensity of the two of you having incredibly angry sex with each other. He slid out of you but kept his arm around your abdomen, his heaving chest vibrating against your back. "You did so well, sweetheart. Good job. Lay down and I'll rub some lotion on those welts," he praised, jumping headfirst into aftercare. Your eyes widen in slight surprise, but you just rolled with it, collapsing onto the bed with a groan, your face buried in the comforter. Hotchner chuckled lightheartedly, moving around the room and opening a door. You paid that no mind, however, your body thoroughly exhausted from having part of your brain fucked out.

You closed your eyes, the feeling of stickiness from the sweat drying made you want to get this over with so you could take a shower, but you were too tired to move and start getting dressed. There were footsteps behind you and then the bed partially dipped, Hotchner's calf bumped into your leg but you ignored it. There was a sudden coldness on your ass, the roughness of his calloused hand from working rubbing it in gently. You let out a small sigh, relief flooding you as the heat and sting from the welts slowly began to dissipate. You thought you might actually fall asleep if he kept massaging you like that. You were already tired from being up for 72 hours working, the intensity and energy exerted from having mind blowing sex wasn't helping, either.

"Are you tired, y/n?" Hotchner asked, amused as you fought to keep your eyelids open.

"No," you mumbled back.

"Don't lie to me. You can sleep here. I'll sleep on the couch," Hotchner murmured, warmth seeping into his soft voice.

You looked back at him, quirking a brow. "You're letting me sleep here?" you asked.

He raised a brow himself. "Yes. Did you think I was just going to fuck you and kick you out?" he asked, his own confusion lacing his voice.

"Kind of," you muttered.

"Why?"

"Well we aren't the necessarily the best of friends or anything, so I kind of assumed you were going to be an angry asshole, realize what the fuck we just did, and then kick me out before I could get a word out," you explain, slightly amused as distaste passed over Hotchner's features at your statement.

"Not going to happen. You can stay here for the night because it's late and you're about to fall asleep anyways. I also don't want to be the reason you go into a drop. That's just cruel considering the fact I wrecked you. You almost cried, for Christ's sake," Hotchner stated. The last part made you blush a bit so you turned your face away in hopes he wouldn't notice or comment on it. He had the grace not to, thank god.

"Then I will sleep on the couch, Hotchner. This is your bed. I'm just the one-night stand. It's cool," you mutter, trying to get up only to be forced back down.