context: fem!reader x hotch
"Mmm, Aaron." You mumble into the pillow, freezing up as soon as the words are fully out of your mouth. Johnny, your boyfriend, has you face down in your shared bed, hammering away. It feels good enough but boring and empty; just sex and no passion. The only true pleasure coming from your fingers rubbing your clit and the idea of your boss, Aaron Hotchner being the one ramming you.
"What?" He freezes as well, taking his hands off of your waist.
"Nothing." You sit up in your elbows, and look back at him, a small smile on your face as you try to reassure him.
"You're sure?"
"Yeah I'm fine. It's good, we're good." You hope that you sound more convincing to him than you do to yourself.
You must because he murmurs, "Alright, babe," before kissing your back, resuming his thrusts into you. You can't help but feel guilty that your thoughts are still of Hotch as the two of you reach your climaxes.
_____
"Morning Y/n." Hotch says with a wide smile, one reserved just for you and no one else, not that you knew that. You never stopped for a moment to think that Hotch would feel the same way as you, not only because of Johnny but because you thought he looked at you as just a friend.
"Oh, h-hey Hotch." You stumble over your words as you look up into his melting brown eyes. They never failed to send butterflies through your stomach. You look back down at your mug, pouring a packet of sugar into it.
He frowns, his eyebrows furrowing. "Are you alright?"
"Yes, I'm fine." You nod a few times, continuing to fix your coffee.
No I'm not alright, I said your name while having sex with my boyfriend, you think to yourself.
"Okay." He says slowly, unconvinced. "You up for a late night of paperwork? It's my turn to buy dinner."
"I don't know if that's a good idea, sir."
That's the dead giveaway. You hadn't called him sir since your friendship had blossomed; the two of you had agreed it felt weird.
"Alright, my office. Now."
"It's really not necessary."
"That's an order, agent." He's trying to be firm but all you can hear in his voice is concern. You blow out a frustrated breath and walk behind him up to his office. He doesn't close the door, hoping that this will be quickly resolved. Usually he could let you vent or tell you a joke and you'd lighten up. "Tell me what's going on."
"Nothing's going on, I just think I should get home. Johnny says I'm not home enough so I'll try to finish up before 5:30 if that's alright, sir."
He frowns again, the expression settled deeper into his face this time. "Why are you calling me, sir?"
"Is that alright, Hotch?" You correct yourself and he kisses his teeth in annoyance, not understanding why you won't just talk to him. You always talked to him, you always saw him as more than just your boss; you saw him as a friend. Though he wanted more, seeing the way your eyes light is enough to keep him alive for years and years.
"Y/n. Please just tell me what's wrong. When did we start keeping things from each other?"
"It's nothing, please, let's just drop it." You plead with him, tears starting to pool in your eyes.
"You're visibly upset, you won't look at me, your jaw is tight, and you're doing that thing with your belt loop."
You look down, noticing that your fingers are pulling at your belt loop. You cross your arms defensively. "I don't know what you're talking about."
