Rom-com Gone Wrong (Hotch x Reader)// ✔

17. Gasoline

Summary:

Few days have passed since that night, but you're still replaying what happened with Hotch, even as you try and fail to continue life like normal

Notes:

y'all this chapter has it all, i promise, and it's all over the place too! ((multitasking baby!))
in italics flashbacks from that marathon night they had last chapter!
and if u see errors, no you don't <33 u'r not allowed to be mean today bcs it's my bd :/ (i joke u'r always SO incredibly nice to me and i love u all!!)

TW: smut (dirty talking and whatever's in between)
title from that song by Haim, ofc

Do not interact if you're a minor or i swear to god 🔫 🔫

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You press the button to the 11th floor, and the doors of the elevators close slowly with a thud. Your reflection on the mirror on the left catches your eye and the first thing you notice is the slow smile spreading unconsciously. Memories of the night with Aaron still linger, even if it's been some time. Despite it all – the lack of sleep, the sore muscles and even the flush on your face that didn't want to leave even with another cold shower – you felt energetic, full of adrenaline, and so fucking fresh like you've dozed off in a bed of flowers after that night with him. Or like you got laid and flooded with endorphins from it. Well, what you message Aaron, at least, it's the first.

Then a few days later, today, you text him the same thing as that day.

You [8.30 am]: feeling great today, btw, like I slept outside over a lush meadow. It's the weirdest thing.

You don't expect a reply, not when he's back to work, and so busy all the time.

Aaron (because you changed the name on his contact right as he left your house, because you wanted to celebrate in one way) [8:30]: I feel great too – strangest thing.

Aaron [8.31]: but we could make the meadow real as well. Maybe we'll include sleeping.

You blink at your phone, and your face heats up at once. God, scratch the sleep. The second thing you notice in your reflection is the way your shirt has ridden up, showing a sliver of your waist, a small hickey left as a remainder of that night – or sometime between the night time and the morning. You remember the way Aaron stared at you too before he made the imprint.

It feels like the longest seconds but it is the shortest span of time when he looks into your eyes, his chest rising up and down with his breathing. A moment ago his gaze traced the movement of your hand pushing back your hair over your shoulder. His eyes rest solely on you, and how you're like gravity to his body – at first, a chair away from you, helping you set the table with the meal he made for both. Without warning, his hands grip your hips and trap you against the dining table. A gasp escapes from your throat, your breath coming out in a shudder. Aaron kisses you quickly, hungrily. He parts away, leaving your pliant mouth wanting. And just like it is the most normal, casual thing ever, he says:

"Bend over and let me taste you again"

Your whole body seems to remember it even now, a shiver cascading down your spine, and making your breath short. You'd felt weak then too, almost reduced to a puddle just from his words and already throbbing like you hadn't had him in your bed just a while back.

You drop the cutlery from your grasp, letting it fall with clatter on the tiles of your kitchen. You don't dare move to pick them, but you follow your instinct – hands yanking Aaron's collar and you crash his mouth to yours.