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lovingjakeseresin · 5 months

Text

i need him on another level

‘’TENSION’’

Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader

18+

- it’s been a hot hot minute but i’m back (still got exams rip) but i just couldn’t help myself, i’m far too obsessed with Hotch atm. my tortured serious detective heart can’t take it. i deliberately made this so fucking long cause i love the tension before the smutty smut. love u guys i’ll be back more consistently soon xx

The sky turned black and it felt like you lost yourself in the cool damp night, staring at nothing but a blaring white screen sitting at your desk praying for this unnerving blankness to end. Even when flying back and the case is successfully solved and profiled, the paperwork that you promised to Hotch earlier was calling to you and you didn't have the chance to call it a night like your fellow teammates. So you sat hollow-eyed at your desk, writing up the events of today. You did have a choice in the matter though- to smooth over the endless tension with Hotch, your boss. Every time you remember any sort of interaction with him, your eyes crease and your brows furrow involuntarily- it was as if there was a heavy feeling in your chest, not from sadness or insult but a tight frustration you couldn't seem to bury no matter how strong your intentions were.

It was only you here in the bullpen and only Hotch brooding in his office, your glassy eyes flicked every so often to see him through his blinds sitting at his desk. It was so late and your brain was turning to white noise and heavy thumps, your clear thinking was fleeing you every minute you sat at your desk. You pondered walking in and talking to him. Confronting him over the events that sent the frosty tension biting down your spine.

The group sat around, unfocused and loitering from desk to desk discussing anything other than the case at hand which wasn't a prudent choice considering you were the newest addition to the team and you couldn't afford to have a bad rap sheet, especially when your boss was the Aaron Hotchner who has a severe attitude and a nerve made of steel- so if you crossed him, he would make it apparent that your behavior would not be tolerated and if it repeats...the consequences far outweighed the risks. Even though you've been here for a year, the tension between you and Hotch hasn't eased, in fact, they froze over tenfold. But it didn't matter because you were just as bitter. You couldn't help it slip out sometimes, just because you were new it didn't mean that you were a people pleaser that was a doormat to anyone with $800 real Italian leather shoes, namely Hotch’

It was difficult to deny that he was…attractive. He moved in silence and it was deafening, he was cold and distant but your intrigue was impossible to quell- he was hot. And completely unlikeable.

And before you knew it, Hotch was right in front of you, with a discerning and severe look on his face that you couldn't seem to shake. All of a sudden, Prentiss and Reid had wandering eyes that looked around elsewhere as they walked away like children trying to hide. Shit.

‘’Agent, a word please.’’ He instructed in that soft yet firm voice of his, knowing that it wasn't friendly and it wasn't insulting- just so fucking polite. It was in this cool middle ground that was filled with grit and tender resentment- unconventionally paradoxical and entirely inconvenient. You shot Emily and Spencer a worried look and their eyes also mimicked your panic and uncertainty, giving a shrug back at you.

You stood proud, however, squaring your shoulders upright when you followed his lead back up to his office, your only view being the back of his tailored suit. Damn, his shoulders were…broad.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

A million self-referential questions flew through your head like a million comets in the sky.

Did you offend him?

Did you make a comment that messed up his view of you forever?

Does he think you can't do your job anymore?

Is he going to transfer you?

Replace you?

Like the polite asshole he was, Hotch left the door open for you and motioned you to take a seat before he was sitting behind his desk waiting to interrogate you and catch you out. You could handle this though, you weren't afraid of him. You sat cross-legged awaiting his charred words but he took a moment to study you.

Hotch wasn't a man that mixed business and his own personal opinion. Subjectivity was the downfall of many leaders of this team before him and he absolutely didn't want anything to change now. This was the sole reason he had been giving you a hard time through the guise of being mistrusting of the newest addition to his team...though it was easy to admit that he didn't trust you, he barely knew you- he glared at you through lifeless and surveying eyes.

‘’I wanted to inform you that your case reports for the previous case haven't been handed to me, the deadline for it was last night and I don't appreciate tardiness.’’ Hotch scolded you with a flatlined voice that was threatening if you listened to it right- you were a profiler, of course, you picked that up.

‘’I completely understand that sir, but I wanted my account to be more detailed and diligent.’’

‘’Why is that?’’ He was inspecting you further and you felt like you were under a microscope.

‘’Because I was the one that shot the unsub.’’ Your voice was heavy even though you knew this wasn't a good excuse. Reid and Morgan once used this excuse to delay the paperwork but it never worked, it only earned them a verbal tongue-lashing on how paperwork deadlines are important as it allows records and cases to be fully sealed, you couldn't move on without finishing them. You internally winced and your neck burned with regret at saying that. It wasn't like this was the first time you shot someone.

Hotch just stared at you, he should be down your throat about these things but he was finding it difficult to draw the line between being your boss and his own personal feelings he was beginning to harbor for you. This all started when you first started a year ago- when you first walked into his office he was taken aback by your hard-angled features and your tight lip, most people who join the BAU have a tendency to fall into two categories with Hotch: completely persistent and overbearing bootlickers that actually defy his orders or moody lone wolves that don't know how to work in a team. You didn't fit into either of those boxes. He couldn't help but align himself with you- as if you were like him. Although what surprised him was that you smiled and laughed in a way that he never did, when you finally were aware of the dynamics of the team, it teased out lightness and ease within you. He'd grown to be fond of your smile, he liked seeing it. Which was odd because when you were with him, your face went hard. Like you were challenging him and his authority.

‘’You're a very talented agent. And an incredibly smart and diligent profiler. You make a very good addition to this team for someone that I haven't worked with for very long but I can't work with people who don't place the same value on paperwork and fieldwork respectively. I'll give you leeway on this occasion but I need you to be good at paper trails as you are on the field.’’

You felt your mouth drop open slightly, like unloose hinges on a door that just got slammed. All the breath was knocked out of your lungs at his not-so-subtle compliment, your ears pricked with heat at the fact that you never heard anything this heartfelt come out of Hotch's mouth, especially regarding you.

‘’Thank you..I-‘’

‘’Please don't blush, the accolade is very much deserved.’’

Hotch was somehow keeping his cool which was a much-needed miracle from the universe. Even though the flush that stained your face somehow made it even more beautiful, he'd like to see that rose pink everywhere else...all over your body. You weren't challenging him now, you were like putty in his hands and it was incredibly jarring to see, but not unwelcome at all. He liked that the one small compliment affected you so, it didn't need to take a profiler to see it clear as day. It was apparent to see that your thoughts were affecting you physically, your thumb was incessantly rubbing the side of your pointer finger- your tell.

‘’I appreciate that Aaron-‘’

‘’-Sir.’’ He reinforced in a thick and heavy voice, correcting the term. You were always supposed to use 'sir' or 'Hotch', you'd never called him Aaron before and your lips curved slightly into a frown

Every time you were getting close to him, he cut you off and built up those walls again. It soured your mood and your brow furrowed again. You got up and leaned in slightly before standing upright.

‘’Sir.’’ You squared your shoulders and readjusted your posture before leaving.

‘’I'll get it finished by tonight.’’ You said huskily, annoyed and frustrated.

What was even odder is that your feet had a mind of their own, the silence was overwhelming you and it felt like you were about to smack your head against a brick wall when you stood outside of his office and knocked.

The tension was taking over you and you needed some form of clarity.

‘’Come in.’’ Hotch stated politely before looking up from his writing and letting go of his pen. You stood there, incredibly confident in your stance and he had to suppress raising an eyebrow.

‘’Y/N. What can I do for you?’’ His voice was low, heady and so damn sexy…almost suggestive.

Just looking at him made electricity shoot through your shoulder blades, his tie was slightly loosened, and his hair was a little more scuffed than usual. Hotch's gaze was scorching, to say the least, it was a complete 360 from the hard discerning eyes he gave you when you were in his office.

‘’Sir, I feel like my work is being compromised.’’ You said very matter-of-factly, arms crossed as you leaned against his door to prove that you mean business, that you were tired of this tap dance with death. Hotch paused to study your statement.

‘’How so?’’

'I'm having trouble handling this tension between you and me.’’ You breathed, finally finding the words that didn't completely reveal how badly you wanted him.

‘’Which kind of tension?’’

‘’You know which one, you're a profiler. Figure it out.’’ You snapped and Aaron was completely taken aback, this was absolutely the kind of attitude that he wouldn't put up with but on this occasion, you seemed desperate and he's never seen you like this before. It wasn't a wake-up call...it was a calling. Hotch just studied your purpose silently- you stood there so sure yet doe-eyed and needy for an answer you had doubts you were going to get from him. He wanted to be honest, so he was.

‘’The kind of tension that makes me want to bend you over my desk and fuck the attitude out of you?’’ Hotch asked you to clarify it for him, just to make you squirm a little more- and like clockwork, you did. He watched your chest swell as you breathed in and out, your eyes widened a little bit but you suppressed it in a second but they were dilating intensely, your brows raised, and your lips parted to let out a sharp breath. The telltale face for shock and arousal. ‘’I don't think you want me to come up with a suggestion on how to help you at all, you've got it all figured out for yourself.’’ Hotch saw right through you, your mind was buzzing with outlines of unfinished plans and outcomes of this entire situation. Right now you could only see one: him fucking you like an animal.

‘’You gonna profile me?’’ Your face was stern but your voice was sweet. Your eyes were begging for him to surprise you and leave you hanging for more.

‘’You want me to?’’ His tone. His voice. It was like pure sex.

‘’Mhm.’’

‘’Come here then.’’ Hotch bit the bullet, he was drunk on this, and he wasn't thinking clearly- but why did it feel like the solution to his problems was becoming clearer and clearer?

Your legs turned to jelly and your knees started buckling in a fit of electric tingles but by some pure miracle, your feet found their way over to Hotch, ending up in front of him behind his desk, eyes locked in a perpetual battle between the tampered down tension and the heady desire

‘’I figured you've outlined a profile of me in your head already.’’ You breathed in an attempt to open up his head for him but like always, he was never revealing his thoughts- he just stared down at you

‘’You pretend you're not nervous around me.’’ He remarked coolly. ‘’You put on a facade that is actually convincing, it's probably an attempt to remain professional but the tension is getting to you, and you hate not having control. What I find interesting though is that you put on this facade but you so shamelessly give me fuck-me eyes when no one else is looking.’’

You remained tight-lipped at his deduction but internally you were losing your mind. ‘’I think I've been pretty good.’’

‘’You are good. But you can't take it anymore.’’ Hotch reaffirmed but then spun it back around on its head.

‘’I can't?’’

‘’You can't. You want me but you don't want to compromise anything, but now the idea of me fucking you is becoming less and less insane.’’ His face was completely serious and your heart was beginning to hammer.

‘’You seem sure of yourself.’’ Who were you kidding? Hotch could see right through you, your confidence was wearing away. He just gave you a small knowing smirk, you liked it when he was flirty (which was the rarest thing on Earth) but then, suddenly, he flipped back to being professional.

‘’So Agent, is there anything else you came to me for?’’. He tilted his head to the side.

He was acting fucking professional- as if you weren't just a few feet away from each other and like the palpable attraction wasn't swinging through the air. You scoffed at his face.

It was late, your inhibitions were fleeing you with every scattered moment. There were so many blips of weakness you were attempting to reign in but you took a deep breath so you didn't crumble under his hard gaze.

‘'I'd like to request a transfer.’’ You blurted without thinking it through. Hotch thought that your face looked defeated.

‘’Transfer? Why?’’ Hotch's brows furrowed and creased at your ask, his lips thinned. He hated the idea of it, but his personal feelings aside, you were an incredible addition to the team- you were bright, insightful, and a necessity. He feels that it would be a big mistake on your part.

But, isn't this right in the long run? This...tension...between you may affect your work in the field. The more you think about it, the less avoidable it becomes.

‘’Or would you prefer a resignation?’’ You joked, your pearly whites peeking through in the light of his office and he thought you looked beautiful under it- though he was slightly irked by your callousness

"Don't give me that.’’ He said curtly and it made your eyes narrow into his; his gaze darkened intensely, and those heady pools of brown were something you could drown in endlessly. You wouldn't mind at all.

‘’Well, I think I've already covered why I want to.’’

Hotch stood silent for a moment.

‘’Come home with me.’’

You hid your shocked face well but your pulse was thundering underneath your increasingly heated skin, you swallowed sharply and your eyes widened a little but still enough for Hotch to catch onto it. Those simple words he uttered made slick form between your thighs already, you couldn't even begin to imagine the physical things he could do to your body to make you feel good.

"Hotch...I-‘’ You breathed, you bit your lip to conceal your bashful expression but the blush and the light dancing in your eyes gave you away. You let out a sharp exhale in a fruitless attempt to attain some sense of dignity but when your gaze met his, you knew he was being perfectly serious and it made you gulp again.

His eyes were eager and you couldn't deny him any longer, even though the idea of him fucking you on his own desk in his own office was something out of a wet dream- you'd settle for some wine at his place. Maybe he could take it as a body shot, the idea made your legs tremble.

The next thing you knew is that his thumb and index finger were hooked under your chin so you could meet the intense stare that you would simply crack under.

‘’Please, baby.’’ Hotch whispered the pet name.

Fuck. That was enough to do you in, enough to make you give into any demand he asked of you. You were actually considering getting on your knees, right here, right now

‘’Okay.’’ Since you agreed, your nervousness seemed to dissipate.

Excited didn't even begin to cover it.

During the car ride back to his place, Hotch had to suppress the urge to let his hands glide over your thighs and clamp onto them. You were wearing a skirt. He could've just easily touched your skin, and let his fingers dance around your panties before slipping them in to see just how wet you really were. But he tampered down the pulsating urge, he kept stealing glances at you. You looked confident now, the woman he's grown to know and work with was here to stay- he'd get that changing in no time. He'd make this whole facade of being a tease shatter beneath your feet, the idea made him smirk and it temporarily occupied his mind while driving. Your air was simply intoxicating to Aaron and it was making him lose his focus on the road.

Neither of you spoke on the way there, and when you both arrived he offered you his hand. Your jaw wanted to fall straight to your feet, fucking Aaron Hothchner, your boss, was offering you his hand for you to hold.

Your tongue glazed over your lips as he lead you to his apartment, mouth salivating with every step. Hotch hadn't felt this strongly about anyone in so long, the tension between you two was just brewing and bubbling and now neither of you had the means to stop it- it was all just waiting to burst into an eruption of passion.

You were both experts in behavior. You both wanted each other, it was clear as fucking day. But you were both stubborn and unmoving. Unrelenting. Perfect.

Hotch opened his door and the ambient lights encompassed the entirety of the apartment, it was nicely furnished and it was apparent that he was a clean freak. It translated from work to home. Hm. Note taken. He closed the door and you both flung your bags into a dark corner, you didn't know what to say or do so you just flirted with him tirelessly.

‘’Wine?’’ Hotch offered, his face brightening just a little. He watched intently as you breathed and leaned in on his kitchen counter, discarding your jacket

"Hm. I drink red.’’ You lied.

‘’No, you don't.’’ His voice was low and gritty but it was evened out with a knowing smirk.

‘’Perceptive.’’ You stated impassively, not trying to indicate that you were affected by the fact he noticed your habits as if it wasn't his job to do so. Hotch poured out white wine for you and fixed himself a bourbon.

You watched and surveyed him with a certain and unmissable fixation. He shrugged off his blazer and started loosening up his tie and undid the first button but he didn't fully take it off. Lord. He was fit as fuck, his broad shoulders...his arms...his fucking hands. You felt so safe with him, it's not like you needed his protection but while you were in his presence, you felt secure and looked out for. The thought made you bite your lip.

Hotch sauntered back over to you with an aura of confidence, a ghost of a smile playing at his lips. He stood leaning opposite you after he handed you your glass. The ambient light made his hard features even more chiseled, it was almost romantic.

‘’So, did you want me here to ply me with alcohol just to make me change my mind?’’ You flirted as you took a scarce sip.

‘’No, just wanted you to be mine for a night.’’ He said honestly and it made your thighs clamp together but your expression was still that of smugness

‘’Hm. Since we're being honest now…’’ You started brusquely. ‘’I think I've wanted you to fuck me since I first walked into your office.’’

Hotch raised a discerning brow at you due to such a brash statement, it was unexpected by not surprising. ‘’Well, each of my thoughts about you…have been improper.’’ He said truthfully, his lips curling slightly.

You always seemed to have a knack for disarming him and he'd be a bold-faced liar if he said he didn't enjoy it. But his mind was wandering.

He was distracted with the last case the team took, he was concerned with the idea of you at the center of it- obviously. You partook in the role of pretending to act like the unsub's preferred victim, using the good old tactic of flirtation during the interrogation in which Hotch stood outside looking in through the glass. You hated appealing to this sadistic prick's preferences but you really didn't have a choice, you could practically feel Hotch's glare intensify even when you couldn't see him. He stood outside with Rossi watching in on the interrogation you were conducting.

‘’I don't like her being in the same room as him.’’ Hotch stated tight-lipped and impassive as always.

Rossi just turned his head and regarded him with a knowing look on his face, he scoffed at Aaron.

‘’What?’’ Hotch questioned, his brows furrowing as always

‘'You've been distracted recently, now I know why.’’

Hotch contemplated you in your presence, you were feeling playful and flirty whereas he was focused and hypervigilant. He couldn't help but be...worried about you. Even though the unsub fit the profile indefinitely, the team had no physical proof that warranted his arrest so you had to let him go. You had to stay later than everyone else to fill out the interrogation report at the P.D. After you were finished, you took your SUV and went back to the hotel you were staying at and parked your car. Although you were aware and diligent, you didn't expect to be blitzed from behind as you got out of the car. It was the same guy you took into custody- but thank God you got out of his aggressive hold and shot him in the kneecaps. You were bound to be shaken up and Hotch just wanted to make sure that you were doing okay. He was yanked out of his thoughts and tethered back to reality as your hand shot up to loosen up his tie, just to be closer to him, to feel his air.

‘'Hm- I always liked these-.’m You mumbled playfully, your face inching closer to his. But suddenly, he grabbed your wrist and pulled you even closer to him, his callous apathetic hand gripping your skin. You couldn't help but let out a sigh, your breath sweet like honey on the vine.

You felt exposed when he stared deeply into your alluring eyes, they provoked such a visceral reaction from him, it was making him feel helpless but he was a master of not showing it.

‘’What is it, Hotch?’’ Your free hand went to his should to assert a hold on him, like he you.

‘'The suspect that tried to attack you...I should've stayed and left with you.’’ His voice was confined with regret and a fit of bubbling anger, and his eyes darted away as if he was too ashamed to look at you considering what he could've prevented. His grip on your wrist loosened as you softly grabbed his face to look at you again. ‘’I don't know why I-‘’

‘’Hey, hey. Look at me...’’You breathed. ‘’I appreciate the chivalry of you being worried about me...but I feel safe with you. And I've spent a lot of time wanting you from a distance and I can deal with that during the day...but at night- I can't help but need you.’’

Although you didn't want to admit it, he was right to be worried. With this job danger was a welcome guest, lives are lost and wills are constantly battled and challenged but within that, the danger makes you realize how precious life is, how waiting does more harm than good, and how trusting your gut is key. The danger makes everyone on the team aggressive, especially you and Hotch. You've lost count of how many rows you've gotten into between each other because of this, within that there have been far too many moments where you've been this close to kissing the lips off of him in an argument. He's hot either way but that attitude is something else- and you reveled in it. Hotch examined your tantalizing face that was etched with a certain sincerity he hadn't seen in a long time, he hadn't felt this sort of desire in lightyears. It was a spark he was sure he was missing before you came into his life.

‘’Aaron. Call me Aaron.’’

It's like his eyes were talking, but you didn't know what they were saying.

‘’I'm special now?’’ You mumbled with a determined passivity. His glower was hard and you could practically hear his brain buzzing.

‘’I'm not a toy.’’ He enunciated in that enticing low and heavy tone of his, you were afraid you were going to lose your inhibitions already, he let go of your wrist and gripped your cheeks, jutting your face upwards. ‘’Stop playing with me as if I am.’’

You didn't let him finish his delicious threat, you captured your lips with his in a searing kiss, one that didn't even make you feel guilty for breaking procedure. You were playing God with Hotch and he knew it perfectly well but he had no objections, he'll be so careless to say he'll deal with the repercussions in the morning. He knew after this one taste of you, he had to have you for the night, even if it was just for one singular, holy night. His massive hands flew into your hair, raking through thick strands as your mouth seeks to find his - you tasted like a fiery embrace in the dead of night. Sweet like sandy beaches with that strong sting of a lemon being dripped onto a blood wound. Hotch, in all his serious purpose, reminded you of a stiff drink in general. He tasted like heady bourbon too.

Hotch started getting impatient now, he intertwined his fingers with your as and dragged you to his room. It was like a hot flash and then you were suddenly there, too possessed by your need for him to profile his fucking room. You were too flustered by a dire lust. He unexpectedly, stilled you both by his bed and grabbed you by the jaw, and jutted it upwards, his grip was ironlike.

‘’Take off your clothes.’’Hotch's tone was much different than his actions, it was polite yet dark, calm yet brutal. He was a walking paradox, and you wouldn't mind spending the rest of your days trying to figure him out. His eyes were scorching and burning into yours

‘'I was hoping you would do it.'’ You whispered against his lips, his nails biting into your skin a little more.

He took your tease as a challenge. Aaron's hands meandered slowly to your tight button-down, slowly undoing each button and staring you in the eyes exactly until you peeled it off.

His callous hands reached behind you to tug down the zipper of your skirt and you had to tamper down the urge to just blitz him right but no, you knew he wanted to take his time with this. Drag it out. Make you needy. Make you weak. You just watched him.

‘’You're all I can think about.’’ He whispered against your lips, the admission of honesty was making your heart pound in your chest.

Your hands were definitely not idle in the slightest, they were itching to get his clothes off- you made quick work of shrugging off his blazer and quickly loosened up his tie and got it off of him, but he caught onto the fabric.

‘’No, no. I wanna keep it for later.’’ Hotch mumbled playfully and it was the kind of sound that made your ears prick up.

You didn't speak, you just smirked as you pressed your lips to his again and sunk your teeth into his bottom lip. Hotch didn't let a single moment pass before he gripped you by the waist and flung you onto the bed.

Your mind was racing and dulling to a blur, you were left in only your underwear and bra- thank God you wore a pretty set today, you had no idea what a day this would pan out to be. You. In your boss's bed. Waiting desperately to be fucked by him, you didn't know how it got to this but it did. You weren't complaining but you did have to wonder how any of this came to be, it was straight out of a dream. Too absolved in your own thoughts, you were yanked out of your thoughts when you felt his hands on your skin. He was shirtless And damn him, he had been hiding such a figure for the entirety of this...thing...you had with him. Hotch's palms outlined the frame of your body and your breath was immediately knocked out of you when he nestled between your thighs. Your hands flew to tug on his hair.

‘’You're not playing fair.’’ You moaned drunkenly, his mouth planting chaste kisses on your collarbone- you just wanted him to get you naked underneath him but he was too busy making you squirm.

‘’I never have.’’ he replied cooly. ‘’Shh. Stay still.’’ He taunted huskily, you could practically hear him smile into your skin.

‘’No.’’ You shot back almost immediately, your legs had a mind of their own.

You mustered up the strength, rolled over, and now you were on top instead. Your mouth latched onto his neck and you began suckling and kissing down, you melted at the sound of him breathless. Fuck, that sound was like heaven. Who knew Hotch had the ability to get like this? His eyes flitted shut as he savored your touch, your feel. His hands went to grip your sides and his palms felt at the skin of your hips.

‘’I like you better beneath me, Hotch.’’ You said all honeyed as you bit his earlobe. He really couldn't take your teasing anymore.

His temper began to bubble and he quickly got out of your hold and flipped you so he was on top of you again, his preferred place to stay.

‘’I said call me Aaron, sweetheart. Don't get dumb on me now, we both know you're not.’’

‘’Now you're the one that's acting as if I'm a toy, Aaron.’’ You bit back. ‘’Can't you feel how much I need you?’’ lYou were practicallywhining at him but you knew he didn't care. Hotch pulled his face back from your neck to stare into those lust-clouded eyes.

‘’Then beg for me.’’ He demanded

‘’Get me naked first.’’ You flirted. His face turned hard and his brows furrowed again and he gripped your wrists again and pinned them down on the bed. Your body was heating up and begging to be touched by him again, you felt far too clothed.

Hotch let go and ducked down between the sweet valley of your thighs to shimmy off your underwear, your scent was divine, and he couldn't wait until he had the chance to taste you but right now you were agonizing over him barely touching you- you were possessed with the need of feeling him inside you. Your underwear and bra were now just a mere pile of scraps on his bedroom floor. You reached for his belt and unbuckled it but before you could go any further he grabbed your arm again

‘’No, no. None of that.’’ He reassured with a soft voice.

‘’Beg for me.’’

Hotch trailed his lips down your jaw to stun you into obliging his commands. To his pleasure. it was working like a dream. His kisses were brutal and vour desperation was radiating off of you, the battle of wills was palpable.

"Aaron...’’

‘’I said beg.’’ He warned, the eye contact between you manifesting into a wild and untameable tension that neither of you was willing to bridle.

‘’I want you to take me, don't be gentle...please...just tell me how you want me and make me yours. I've been begging for you all this time, don't make me repeat and parrot back the thoughts I've had for you.’’ You whimpered, goosebumps trailing your skin as his fingertips traced down your stomach and to the place where you needed his attention.

It felt as though Hotch's world had just stopped spinning like it had been tipped off its axis. Your breath was sweet and your eyes were wide and guileless, sparkling with need and lust that only he could satiate. He watched you stiff-eyed and earnestly as his fingers slipped into your heat, teasingly at first but then curling upwards, your moan was unconcealable and broken up.

‘’You'll be my undoing, you know that?’’ He groaned before biting your lip, you whimpered into his mouth. His fingers were feeling at you with an expertise you had never experienced before, they were literally working magic. It was rough and soft at the same time-just like him. They were moving rhythmically, tenderly and then his thumb began sending sparks through your body when he toyed with your clit

‘’Oh God...’’ You couldn't bite back your moans.

‘'Don't scream his name, scream mine. It sounds better, don't you think?’’ He knew you couldn't answer him coherently but you proved him wrong when you grabbed at his belt buckle.

‘’In me...please.’’ It was like you were drunk on him.

Hotch could withstand anything you had on a normal day during work I hours but when he got you begging like this, he just loved your whines but he felt bad for dragging it out- it looked like you were on the verge of crying, tears of pleasure were pricking in your eyes. He had to give into such a polite demand. You didn't even have the time to look down but you felt him, pulsating and huge. He pushed inside of you with no prior warning.

‘’Aaron...I can't take it.’’ You grunted, eyes unable to stray away from his as your nails dug into his broad shoulders.

"Yes, you can. You'll take it.’’

You quite literally had to accommodate to his massive size, he was fucking massive- not that you had any doubts, but the thought has crossed your mind on many occasions and you hated it. Now you were taking it from him.

‘’How do you feel now?’’ He questioned, the back of your head was dug into the pillow, your chin jutted up.

‘’What?’’ You sounded frazzled and it made him want to laugh.

‘’The tension...between us...’’ He panted, his thrusts pumping into you, your bodies colliding violently.

‘’We're not on your desk, are we?’’

Hotch didn't respond, he just sunk his teeth into your jaw and it made you cry out. Your nails were digging into his skin and he was completely absorbed into this outlet, he definitely didn't mind this happening over and over again. Your moans became louder and louder, you couldn't help yourself, he was eliciting all of these reactions out of you. He never pulled his punches and this isn't an exception- he was just so damn skilled, it was all so intricate, like he knew exactly what buttons to push to make you go fucking insane. He was quite the profiler indeed, the thought made you smirk.

‘’I don't know if I can keep going.’’ You whined, brows tenseing enough to make your head pulsate. ‘’Fuck….’’

‘’It's okay...just stay with me. You can do that for me, can't you?’’ He cooed at you and it sent shockwaves down your body, you nodded and poulled him into a searing kiss.

You couldn't say no to him, no matter how hard you tried. The collision was forceful, passionate, completely and utterly tangible through every cell in your body. Hotch could feel you tightening up around him, suffocating his cock perfectly and setting a high dose of adrenaline in his aching veins. You couldn't hold out anymore, it was becoming infuriating. A scream ripped from your throat, broken plea, a frazzled response that you could no longer contain. You reached your high far quicker than you had hoped for but, how could you hold out? It was Aaron fucking Hotchner. Your release felt incredible to the point where your eyes screwed shut, Hotch was entirely pleased to have you in such a state. He wished he could frame that expression and put it on his desk. While he finished, he kissed your lips and then kissed the bridge of your nose up to your forehead. Fuck, this switch up from roughness to tenderness was...nice. For the first time in a long time, you felt wanted. Hotch rolled over and you held onto him, your head perched on his chest.

You both stayed silent for a while. Breathing in and out. Watching the rise and fall of his chest. His arm enveloped you and his fingers began desperately tracing unintelligable patterns on your bare skin.

Breathing in and out.

Eyes fanning shut.

‘’Hm. I like fraternzing.’’ You said softly and you could hear Hotch's subtle chuckle, he was so clearly amused by your blatant rule breaking. Only you would be so callous.

‘’Funny.’’ He replied with a raise eyebrow.

‘’Tension leading to this is so fucking cliche.’’ You groaned, rolling your eyes at the idea but what could you say...you secretly found yourself enjoying it.

‘'How many times have you thought about rugby tackling me during an argument?’’ He smiled, gazing wantonly into the dark catalysts of your eyes when you hung your head up.

‘’Many ...but I wouldn't say rugby tackle. I'd say directly punch in the face.’’

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotch hotchner #adelia recommends❤️‍🩹

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lovingjakeseresin · 6 months

Text

OH THIS IS MY SHIT

Hey, Neighbour! | DBF!Jake Seresin x Reader (18+)

Synopsis: Jake’s been having a problem recently, and when the power goes out next door, everything quickly comes to a head.

Warnings: dad’s best friend trope. Age gap. Reader is in her mid-20s, Jake’s around 40. Obviously unbalanced power dynamic. No use of Y/N. Reader’s dad has a name. Mention of reader having a piercing. Smut. Pure filth and pining. Smut. Oral (f receiving). Unprotected pinv. Creampie. Jake has no respect for his best friend’s furniture. Choking briefly. Please comment / Reblog, it’s greatly appreciated. Wc: 8.5k. Minors dni, you will be blocked.

…

Jake clicks the television off and pushes himself up from the couch, joined by his shadow of a German shepherd called Ace. They walk together to the sound of the meek little knock at his front door, Jake’s gym socks padding along his dark wood floors along the way.

It’s late. Too late for whoever is at his front door to be bearing good news. He twists the door handle and pulls it open, rolling back his aching shoulders. This late at night, he has a good idea of who’s going to be standing on his porch.

As expected, standing there and shivering in your dad’s coat and a pair of slippers, is exactly the last person that Jake was hoping to see.

You see, Jake has had a bit of a problem since he moved in to this neighbourhood.

Quite a substantial one, in the grand scheme of things, and one that seems to just be getting worse by the minute.

Suburbia was meant to be Jake’s reprieve from his bachelor lifestyle. His escapades have been worrying his mother to death for going on two decades now, and it came time that even Jake agreed that it was time to wisen up about his love life. With all of the deployments, and all of the time away from home, it had been beyond easy to never fall into anything serious. By the time he was twenty-nine, Jake’s longest ever relationship was two and a half months, which was alarming given the number of women he had encountered by then.

Two things happened that sent Jake here, to this cute little cul-de-sac in suburban San Diego, one — Jake’s job became more secure, and guaranteed that he would spend at least ninety percent of his remaining career here on the west coast. Second, he proposed to a woman. A beautiful woman, that he was so sure he was going to spend the rest of his life with.

She liked his house, it looked like the one her parents had raised her in. So, he bought the house and he bought a dog, and swore that he was going to try to settle down. Six months later, it was just him and the dog. Payton apologised profusely, and she’d apologise even more if he ever ran into her again, he just wasn’t right for her.

Things weren’t so bad though. Jake and Ace liked the peace and quiet, and the guy next door was actually pretty cool. Jack, the airline pilot with a mean golf swing and a great nose for the best sports bars in town. He’s a little older than Jake, with a hell of a lot more to show for it, including three grown up kids.

It’s been a couple of years now, and Jake’s practically part of the family. He knows everything there is to know. He’s there on birthdays, holidays, emergencies — he loves this family. But he has a problem.

His problem was manageable at first. So, Jack’s youngest daughter might have caught Jake’s attention at first. You were visiting home from college and you had stepped out of the car in a tight little pair of shorts and a tank top, and Jake just happened to be standing in Jack’s garage, helping him with a little project, when he first saw you.

And you were funny. Right away cracking some joke about Jake’s less than adept approach to projects around the house. Jake had laughed out loud without even meaning to, and then you’d turned your head and hit him with that mega-watt smile. Bringing new meaning to the term beaming.

God, that pretty fucking smile.

Your humour dances lightly on the nerves of others, like Jake’s, but sweeter. You’re well behaved and back then you had had a dreamy boyfriend who was in pre-med. Perfect in every way.

Even more reason for Jake to keep his hands to himself.

You were Jack’s kid. Jake wouldn’t ever cross that line. It’s just that sometimes… he had to remind himself of this boundary.

He hadn’t ever been close friends with someone where that was even a concern, and truthfully, he had been unprepared for meeting you. In all of the stories Jack told him, you were this cute little kid. Standing before him, you didn’t quite match the image he had of you in his head. This was truly uncharted territory.

Truth be told, there were times when Jake wasn’t so sure you wanted him to hang back. Even when you were still bringing that boyfriend of yours around, Jake caught the way you looked at him.

The way you tug those glossed lips between your teeth and grin around the straw of your drink.

If he was a better friend, or a stronger man, he might have been able to nip his little problem in the bud right away. He had tried, and you were living away from home then, so it was easier. But last month, you had moved back in with your parents and Jake’s life has been nothing but stress ever since.

On occasion, Jake thinks of how he would have to plead his case if someone discovered how he felt. You just don’t know what it’s like when she’s looking at me, man. I swear, I tried to stay away from her, I did.

It’s not his fault that Jack asked him to watch you while your folks were away on that cruise.

Jake’s gaze finally flickers back up to your wounded, hurt baby bunny, expression.

“What’s the matter, cutie? — You alright?” He reaches for you with one hand, gently grabbing at the crook of your elbow and guiding you towards him. That sad little look on your face tugs at his heart strings every time.

“Yeah, I just — I plugged in my phone charger and all the lights went out. I think I tripped a fuse,” All exasperated and frustrated at once, you push your hair back off of your face and frown at him. “Could you come take a look at it for me?”

Jake’s throat grows thick. Under your dad’s heavy work coat, Jake can see the thin white tank top you’re wearing and the blue checkered, boxer style pyjama shorts. But Jack asked him to take care of you.

“Yeah. Of course I can,” Jake nods his head and reaches down to tug at Ace’s black woven collar. “Come in a sec. I just need some shoes.”

There haven’t been too many occasions where you have been inside Jake’s place. Your dad comes here a lot and you’ve been sent over to collect him before dinner on occasion, or to deliver Jake some leftovers.

It’s warm inside, and it smells like woodsmoke and leather. He’s been burning the candle that you got him for his last birthday. You inhale softly, shrugging the coat closer to your body.

In the times that you have been over here, you’re always surprised by how tidy he keeps the place. It’s not what you would have expected of a single guy living all alone.

Jake pulls some sneakers from a tidy shoe organizer disguised to look like an end table and crouches down to put them on his feet. Leaning over, something catches his eye between the heavy fleece of your dad’s unzipped work jacket.

“Did you get your bellybutton pierced?”

The question startles you, drawing attention to the fact that you had been craning your neck and trying to get a look into Jake’s living room. You turn your head, blinking as Jake straightens up and takes a step towards you.

He reaches out and before you know it, his warm fingers are stretching out across your chilled, just exposed navel. His thumb brushes over your soft skin, brows drawing together as he examines the dainty jewelry pushed through your skin.

Swiftly, you take a step back and his hand drops away from your body. “I’ve had it for years.”

There’s a silence between the two of you. Jake’s going to be kicking himself for that for weeks to come. He shouldn’t have reached out and touched you like that. He shouldn’t be commenting on things your father wouldn’t approve of. You’re too grown up for that.

“Huh,” He clicks his tongue, reaching just past your side to grab his house keys from the dish by the door. “C’mon, kid. Let’s go take a look at those lights.”

The shuffle of your slippers cuts through the awkward silence as you cross Jake’s front yard and into yours. It’s late November, and a cold night in particular too. Standing in just a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt, the evening chill makes Jake’s arm hair stand on end. As you walk ahead, your back to him, Jake wonders if it has the same effect on you.

Thinking about his best friend’s daughter’s tits. He wishes the shame alone was enough to knock the thought out of his head. He wishes you hadn’t moved home. He wishes you weren’t leading him into your dark, empty house right now.

The entire house is pitch black, but Jake tests the hallway lightswitch in passing anyway. He notes the dubious look you shoot him back over your shoulder. Then, he passes by you as you stop to take off that big coat. It’s not something he wants to hang by and watch.

It’s cold as his shoulder brushes yours, and not just because it’s November. You swallow thickly, staring after him until he disappears into the dark. Your feelings towards Jake are complicated.

Well, they’re not. Your crush on him isn’t the innocent middle school crush that you used to have on an older figure, like a teacher. No, this is far from doodling his name in your journal. This man, and his thick, ridged abs and golden chest hair, is working his way into your dreams.

After the break-up, you had sworn off men for a while — and that was the right decision for you. But, it left certain parts of you yearning. And Jake’s right next door. From your bedroom window, you’ve got the perfect view into his backyard. The same backyard where he’ll work out in the blazing heat, sweat glistening along his tanned skin, along the ridges and valleys of his muscles.

No, this crush is far from innocent. It crossed the border into indecent weeks ago, the first time that you touched yourself thinking about him. It wasn’t your fault; he was tempting you.

You had returned home from work to find Jake hanging out in the living room with your father, not unusual, and you had joined the two of them. Your dad had started with a playful comment about Jake. Jake had returned the favour with a witty remark about your dad. You were just joining in on the fun, poking playfully at Jake’s age.

All too suddenly, he had turned sharply to you and pinched the soft skin between your ribs and hip, leaning dangerously close with a smirk on his face that made your head spin. In fact, you still remember the way your mouth had hung open as Jake had breathed out a chuckle and shot you that playfully warning look.

“You think you’re funny, huh?” He’d challenged, that eager look in those wild green eyes, his cheeks dimpling just slightly, fingers pressing into your side.

Since then, you can’t help but think of him closer, and closer.

“Jake, wait!” You call, dropping the coat onto a hook and kicking off your slippers, starting to rush after him. Jake cranes his neck to look back at you over his shoulder. “You should probably show me what you’re doing. Y’know, in case it happens again.”

“Sure. Come here,” Jake jerks his head for you to join him, extending his hand for you in the dark of the utility room. You swat around until your fingers graze his, falling silent at the brash way he grabs hold of your hand and drags you closer. Your ass briefly brushes his thigh as he guides you in front of him. Jake steps back, clearing his throat. The little red dot on the fuse box illuminates his fingertips as he reaches past you. “This is the switch you want, don’t mess with anything else or your dad’ll kill you.”

The corners of your lips twitch. There are plenty of things your dad would be furious with, if he knew you had done them.

Jake’s fingers curl around the switch. His cologne fills your nose. His massive bicep is inches from your cheek, and everything feels like electric as his other hand comes to rest on the bare space between your shirt and your shorts. You’re trapped between him and the wall in front. If you would push your hips back just an inch or two…

“So, you flip the switch off to reset it,” Jake’s voice is all gravel from yelling at the young pilots he instructs, and shouting over the top of loud music in bars. It drifts past your ears and makes you want to shiver as his fingers curl around the plush of your hip. “And then you flip it back on for the power.”

Suddenly, the lights come back on in the hall outside of the utility room. Jake’s got you cornered against the fuse box really, and with the washer and dryer to your side, the only escape would be to rush out into the hall. You’re not quite ready to make that move. You can hear the amusement in his voice. He can feel the way you’re burning with awkward embarrassment in front of him.

“Oh.” You say quietly. Jake chuckles from behind you, his hand trailing about an inch higher, taking some of the fabric from your tank top with it, pinching playfully at your newly exposed waist.

“Happy to help, kid.” He’s already drawing back, his hand pulling away from your electrified skin, the sound of his shoe hitting the floor and alerting you to the fact that he’ll be leaving before you even know it.

“Could I ask you for one more favour?” You turn to face him, biting sheepishly on your bottom lip.

“Sure. What is it?” He’d retile your entire bathroom for you if you asked him to. That’s what makes him wish he was a better friend.

There’s an art to the way you bat your lashes at him, knowing better than to get too close or put your hands on him. Just that deep, pleading look in your eyes is more than enough. “Will you finish watching my scary movie with me? — Kinda… freaked me out a little bit when the lights went out, is all.”

“… Yeah. Yeah, I guess I can hang out for a little.” You’re a good kid, and it’s just a movie. He can’t leave you over here all by yourself, scared out of your mind, now, can he?

Jake wonders if this is what your father had in mind when he had asked his most trusted friend to just be there for his daughter while they were away.

That same, trusted best friend, sitting on the couch with his chin propped up against his palm, and that daughter’s head resting against his shoulder. You could have sat over on the other end of the couch, or even in your dad’s armchair, but that defeats the purpose of asking Jake to stay.

“Fill me in. What am I missing here?” Jake asks, mostly to fill the silence. His arm stretches along the back of your couch, his knees parted obnoxiously and his neck awkwardly straight to minimise risk of him laying his head against yours.

Your hand comes to rest against his middle, eyes focused calmly on the screen. “So there are two timelines. The present, and flashbacks to like… maybe ten years ago. Ten years ago, the family bought this mirror, and…”

Jake’s fingers inch their way into your hair, trailing softly over your scalp. Your fingers brush over his middle as he massages your scalp. He listens to you explain the plot of the movie like he isn’t thinking about the way your nipples are pressing through the white fabric of your tank top.

“Freaky mirror…” Jake muses over the concept of the plot, squinting his eyes at the screen, his fingers slowing to a halt in your hair as he turns his head to look at you. “You gonna be able to sleep okay tonight if we watch this?”

You meet him back with a sheepish grin and an innocent shrug of your shoulders. “Well, I already started, so I need to see that it ends okay, or I’ll be freaked out.”

“Alright. Just making sure you’re not gonna try crawling into my bed tonight after you have a nightmare.” Jake teases, pushing his knees further apart and sinking down into the comfort of the grey fabric couch he helped the movers bring in here last August.

He didn’t push you away when you sat right next to him and curled against his side. He reached out himself and stroked his fingers along your stomach.

Confidence surges through you like a wave, swelling big enough for you to giggle and press closer to him. “Come on, would that be such a bad thing?”

“What did you say?”

The swell has passed and the wave crashes just like all the others do, breaking over an otherwise calm sea. You swallow softly, growing exceptionally still.

“I was just kidding—“

Jake’s fingers leave your hair and curl instead around the nape of your neck. He turns his head, attempting to get a look at your face. “No, no. Say it again. What did you say?”

You shake your head, pressing it closer against his toned stomach. “I was just joking. You wouldn’t mind it that much if I had a bad dream and had to come sleep in your bed.”

He’s quiet for a moment and the movie draws tense. The main character is creeping around in the dark, the music is building, and Jake’s far too quiet for your liking.

“Don’t joke about that.” Jake says quietly.

“Okay. I’m sorry.” You answer him, hugging your cheek into the dark fabric of his t-shirt. That way, there’s no chance of him seeing the shame on your face. Going after your dad’s best friend— you should be ashamed of yourself.

Jake rubs a palm over the stubble on his jaw, trying to focus on the screen in front of him. This movie can’t possibly take much longer.

He knows he has upset you. You’re uncharacteristically quiet, and he can feel you trying to sit still. He shifts his hips a little, reaching out and resting his palm against your waist.

Your brows draw together as the main character bites into the apple she was eating and glass shards drop to the floor in front of her. Jake feels your fingers curl into the fabric of his shirt. Sweat beads on the nape of his neck.

His thumb swipes back and forth over the inch of bare skin on your hip.

Jake glances down at you. Laying against his middle like this. It feels all too natural. He isn’t even paying attention to the movie. Truthfully, the only thing on Jake’s mind is how soft your skin feels against the pad of his thumb.

Imagining how soft your body would feel in his palms, every inch of your skin in his capable hands.

You gasp as the camera pans to the main character’s bleeding mouth, and the shattered lightbulb in your hands, twisting your head and burying your face in Jake’s shirt.

Jake flinches, his attention drawn back to the screen as his fingers curl into your skin. His face twists in distaste, groaning at the gore on the screen.

“Shit, you weren’t kidding about this being freaky.” Jake mutters with a soft shake of his head, shifting uncomfortably as his fingers massage at the pillowy skin of your waist. He swallows thickly, eyes dropping down to the way you’re nestled just above his waistband. He tries a weak chuckle, mind racing for something to lighten the mood. “What am I meant to do if I’m up all night after this, huh?”

You laugh softly against his stomach, pressing closer to the warmth of his rigid torso. Jake stares at the screen as he feels your open palm brush over his abdomen, fingertips grazing the waistband of his sweats by mere millimeters. He strokes your skin, setting his knees further apart by an inch.

Even with the score of the movie in front of you, everything feels so quiet. Even with the floor lamp to your right and the table lamp to your left, it all feels so dark. It all feels so slow. Truthfully, you imagine this is as close as you’ll get to understanding what it feels like to tightrope across Niagara Falls.

One misstep, a strong gust, the loss of balance in any capacity and its all over. The best friendship that your father has ever had, thrown away because you made a pass at a man far too old for you to begin with.

Then, Jake’s fingers break their almost surgically precise pattern. The tips stretch just slightly under the fabric of your tank top, reaching for the silken skin of your stomach. It’s brief, before they retreat to the safety of circling the skin that you’ve chosen to expose. You drop your gaze, watching all five of his digits follow their intricate pattern, and stretch under the cotton white of your top once again.

Maybe Jake notices that you’re watching him, or maybe he finally notices it himself, but he stops all at once. Fingers pulling back to rest platonically against your hip, green eyes trained seriously on the television, his lips stretched into a flat line.

“It’s okay,” You whisper without turning your gaze away from the screen. Jake doesn’t look at you. He feels your fingers brush across the top of his, curling through the digits, linking them together. “It’s okay, Jake. You can. I won’t say anything.”

Your parents aren’t going to be home for another eleven days. What’s Jake supposed to do until then, ignore your existence? — Avoid you entirely?

He wants this, and you’re on to him, giving him permission.

“Honey,” It’s caught somewhere between a sigh and a groan, an exhale of restraint and desperation all at once. He wishes he could at least pretend he’s half interested in this movie. “Don’t talk like that.”

Your brows draw together, eyes going wide as a child in the movie creeps through the house, headed for the master bedroom. Bloody sheets on the bed. A smashed plate on the floor. Jake’s hand gripping your hip. The child inches forwards, the music swells, a chill rushes down your back. In frame, the little girl rounds the edge of the bed and someone leaps out, bloodied and frenzied. Jake hasn’t been paying enough attention to gather who.

Neither one of you will care in a few moments.

The surprise makes you jolt, leaping up from your spot against Jake’s stomach, sitting upright all of a sudden, grabbing onto his forearm for support.

“It’s alright, cutie,” Jake breathes out in soft amusement, rubbing a heavy circle on your back. That’s the first thing he called you. When he’d seen you struggling to lift the icebox in the garage. Let me get that for you, cutie. And now, he has the nerve to pretend like it’s just you that has led the two of you here. “Maybe we should turn it off now, huh?”

Your heartbeat is already thudding in your ears and there’s no way you’ll be able to sleep after any of this. Fuck it. You turn, brace your palm against his shoulder, and take the dive.

Jake has thought about what those pretty lips feel like. Every time they stretch upwards into those pretty smiles, each time you sink your teeth into the bottom one. He should be prepared, in theory. Is there any way to prepare for something like this?

“Sweetheart…” Jake mutters against your lips, eyes screwed shut, hands reaching out for your hips. Pained, he gives a slow shake of his head. “Come on, we can’t do this.”

“But do you want to?” Your lips graze his. He feels the way you arch your back, knocking your chest into his, angling yourself in a way that just begs him to grab hold of your waist and drag you into his lap. You close your mouth, pecking softly at his still lips once more. “If you didn’t know my dad… you would. Right?”

Yes. Of course he would. He would be insane not to. He’s driving himself insane trying not to.

“But I do, and… and he trusts me.” Jake turns his head just slightly, but his hands reach for you. His big hands find your hips and grab onto them tight, hard. He just holds you right there. There’s got to be some kind of way he can regain some of the power here.

“I trust you.” You tell him, kissing his jaw tentatively. Delicate fingertips skim along the throbbing vein on the left side of Jake’s throat, reaching for the nape of his neck. Soft, slow kisses lead a trail to his earlobe, passing plains of stubble and angled bone. “I know you won’t hurt me, and I know you want me. It’s okay, Jake, I want you too.

“Fuck.” Jake swears, dropping his head forwards to rest against the curve of your shoulder. His fingers dig into your hips harder and harder. By the time Jake drags you forwards, his grip is so tight that you would have no choice but to follow. You fall into his lap, lips parted and eyes wide as Jake’s deep pine coloured eyes study your face.

You wait for him to speak again, but he doesn’t. Not for a long time. His fingers stretch up from your hips, reaching under the fabric of your tank top, extending across your bare abdomen. He stretches the brushed cotton further, taking it up with a gentle touch.

“Your father would kill me.” Jake muses as his fingertips graze the underside of your breasts, his eyes solely on your face. You smile back at him, only partly because your father is an airline pilot who couldn’t bench half of what Jake does on a good day.

“I won’t tell him if you don’t.”

Jake grits his teeth. It has started to rain outside now. That storm that channel four had promised is starting to roll in. The movie will be over soon. The rain will be the only sound on this entire street. This house is completely empty, beside the two of you. He exhales through his nose and pushes his hips up. He’s half-hard under you, and giving you another disapproving shake of his head.

“Little fuckin’ minx…” Jake curses you, his words fanning out across the span of your exposed neck, hot and cold all at once. “You get off on teasing me like this, or something?”

A smile works its way across those pretty lips. Jake could see more of that smile than he sees sunsets and he would still be pretty damn content. Your nails rake softly through the almost buzzed fade at the back of his head as you give a shake of your head.

“Well, it’s not teasing if we take care of it,” Your shoulders rise and fall in a soft shrug as Jake’s fingers trail further upwards, taking your tank top with them and exposing your breasts to the cool autumn air. The rattle of the air conditioning unit that your dad tells you not to mess with reminds you of the real culprit as your nipples harden and perk with the exposure. You lean back, bracing each of your hands on Jake’s knees, arching your chest out, letting Jake see the newly exposed skin. “If you’ll let me.”

His eyes are pretty when he smiles. When he’s staring at your tits, they’re hooded and hungry, a shade of green that threatens to draw you in and hold you captive. What a happy captive you would be. His hands grab at both of them at once, squeezing roughly at the supple flesh.

All at once, his mouth is on yours too. He’s sucking at your bottom lip, growling into your mouth. He smells of smoked wood and he tastes of scotch. It paints half of a picture. A lonely man sitting in his home alone on a Saturday night, burning a candle given to him by a girl half his age and drinking liquor older than he is himself.

You’re straddling his hips now, your bare thighs squeezing into the fabric of his grey sweatpants, pulling yourself closer with each hungry kiss. Jake’s touch is experienced, expert; he pinches softly at your nipple, anticipates the way your mouth will draw open in a soft gasp, and licks into your mouth the second that it does. He sucks softly at the tip of your tongue, revelling in the feeling of your soft breasts in his hands.

“Arms up.”

You’re such a good girl. The way that you comply with a wordless grin and bite at your lip once the tank top hits the floor has Jake in even more trouble than he was before. He kisses softly at the space between your tits, pushing them together in his hands, opening his mouth and pressing his tongue into your skin.

Men like boobs. Big boobs, small boobs — your shared gossip sessions with friends in college always led to the same conclusion, men don’t care. They bite, suck, grab regardless of size. It shouldn’t be anything new. But then Jake reaches your left nipple. His right hand palms at the underside as his tongue swipes in a circular motion, just before his lips clasp around the sensitive bud.

You know he’s watching you through those esurient green eyes, but you find yourself playing right into his capable hands anyway. Any leverage you may have had in seeming like his charms don’t work on you are washed away with the dulcet tone of your first moan. It spills from your lips, your nails pressing into the nape of his neck as Jake sucks expertly at the sensitive skin.

He pulls away with another ravenous exhale, something between a sigh and a groan. His hands feel heavy on your body as they paw at your chest with a capability you’ve never encountered before. His cologne is expensive and mature, a smokey blend that has you intoxicated and enthralled. His mouth is wet and eager, but oh, so slow as it explores the areas of you he has dreamt about.

The rain outside is growing heavier, like it’s learning to mimic the deepness of each of your breaths. The movie must have finished by now. Neither one of you is going to check.

His stubble prickles, rough and masculine, abrasive compared to the adept caress of his tongue. His right hand grabs forcibly at the nape of your neck, drawing the sweetest little squeak from your already open lips. You knew he would be better than the guys you’ve been with before, but not like this. He hasn’t even touched you yet.

Jake’s lips seem to pinpoint each and every nerve ending in your chest, sucking and licking at your skin through feverish kisses. The tenderness seeping away each time a breathy moan falls from your mouth, fanning out against his clothed shoulder. He pulls away from the top of your breast with his teeth, already knowing, in his years of experience, that that’s going to bruise.

Jake lifts his head, letting his eyes drift shut as you lean forwards and press your mouth to his neck. He can feel your nerves in your trembling fingertips, in the way your chest shivers when it brushes his, in the way your lips suck at his pulse point. But you’re doing so well. Dragging your lips along the length of his neck, biting softly at the skin just above his collarbone, feeling him shiver at the sensation.

“Off.” You demand, grabbing at the bottom of his t-shirt, feeling him grin against your jaw. He complies wordlessly, grabbing at the back of his shirt and yanking it over his head.

You’ve seen Jake shirtless plenty of times, wandering around his property or opening the front door without shame. You’ve always wondered what those muscles, that dusting of golden chest hair, would feel like up close. Forgetting that you’re being watched, your hands explore his toned torso. The line down the middle of his stomach, the sharp divide of his collarbones, the swell of his pecs.

“What’re you thinking?” Jake asks, brushing your hair back from your face tenderly, concern coating his features.

A bashful smile spreads across your cheeks as you watch your fingers ghost along the thick muscle of his shoulder. “That you’re really hot.”

Jake breathes out a chuckle, reaching up and grabbing at the back of your neck to cradle you against him as he pushes up from the couch and turns quickly, planting you on your back and covering your body with his.

“That smile is gonna get me in big trouble, sweetheart,” Jake wastes no time in pressing his mouth to your stomach, holding you by your waist as he sucks filthy kisses into your skin to mark his path downward. “You know that?”

“I know.” You answer back, just to tease him this time. Jake stops at your waistband as you giggle, looking up at you through hooded eyes with a devilish grin on his face. He drags his teeth across your hip, hooking his fingers into the sides of your shorts and tugging them down your legs.

“God, honey, you weren’t wearing panties this entire time?” Jake exhales, eye-level with the most intimate part of you and completely unashamed. Your mind fumbles for an answer, lips getting into position to finally respond when he leans forwards and licks a stripe through your soaked core. Then, he moans. His hands grab fistfuls of your soft waist and he goes in again, lapping hungrily at your excitement, groaning against your sensitive skin.

“O-Oh… Jake.” Your voice trembles, knees trying to press shut around Jake’s broad shoulders. He grabs firmly at your thigh, closing his lips loosely around your clit, flicking his tongue over the sensitive bud and making you jolt against him.

“Yeah, honey?”

“That feels really fucking good.” You tell him, closing your eyes finally.

“Attagirl. Just hold on, girlie, I’m gonna get you there.” He promises without once diverting from his apparent mission. If he’s as devoted to the Navy as he is to making you cum at this exact moment in time, the military is lucky to have him. You’re soaked, excitement pooling between your legs. Jake already knows he’s going to spend tomorrow cleaning this couch, and he wishes he cared enough to make better decisions.

“Look at this,” Jake breathes out as his gaze falls back down to rest between your legs. He couldn’t care less about the fucking couch. You swallow hard, practically aching for his touch. You’ve waited so long already. His index finger dips between your folds, his brows raise as he gathers your excitement on the tip of it. “Making such a fuckin’ mess for your old man’s best friend. Dirty fucking girl.”

He can’t see the way his words make you grin, but he can feel the way you reach for his hair and tug softly at those blonde roots, begging for more. He’s more than happy to give it to you. Jake groans against you, working his tongue in soft circles around the throbbing bundle of nerves. His eyes are still on you. Your eyes are closed — if you look him in the eyes then you’re going to get all embarrassed, and you’ll be damned before you let someone ruin how good this feels. Especially not yourself.

Jake’s hand trails up your naked torso, pawing at your rising and falling tits as you pant into the chilled air, sweat beading on your skin.

He’s gentle between your legs. More gentle than he could be. Pressing his stubbled mouth firmly against your core and working his tongue against you, each languid movement making you keen into him. The tip of his nose bumps your clit periodically. It feels like your head is spinning.

Dragging his mouth back up to your sensitive, throbbing clit, his free hand slides between your legs, he dips the tip of his index finger into you, then slides it in up to the knuckle and curls. Just testing the waters. It’s enough to earn him a moan, enough to have you grab a fistful of his short blonde hair, ensuring that he doesn’t get ahead of himself and lose pace with his mouth.

He slips his ring finger into you alongside his middle whilst his tongue works confidently along your core and back up to your clit. He lets go of your thigh and rests his forearm across your stomach, keeping you nice and still for him. Maybe he should feel ashamed of himself for how much he’s enjoying this.

All of those times he enjoyed the sound of your laugh, and sat with the afterthought of how much he’d enjoy the sound of your moans. It’s hard to be ashamed when it turns out he was right.

He scissors his fingers inside of you, making you gasp louder this time, pulling against him. You tug at his roots, he moans against your clit. You both shiver, and not because of that now thundering storm. Jake’s tongue flattens as he drags it along your core. He pulls his fingers from you and puts them immediately to work, taking over the pace on your clit, burying his face between your legs, curling his tongue into you.

Jake growls against you, his cock growing now uncomfortably hard in the confines of his sweats and his fingers and mouth switch places once again. After all the time he has waited, he doesn’t deny himself the pleasure of looking up at you, writhing at the feeling of him between your legs. All that does is make his sweats feel even tighter again. His fingers fuck into you mercilessly, curling and twisting, making you keen into his touch and arch your back and gasp all at once.

You cum with his name on your tongue and your fingers in his hair. The comedown feels like weightlessness. Jake doesn’t bother to ask if that’s the first time a man has made you feel like that, the adoration in your eyes as he comes in to kiss your mouth tells him everything he needs to know.

His mouth tastes like you, his chin is wet with your slick and his cock is straining against the grey cotton of his sweats, pressing in to your stomach. Jake’s fingers brush your hair back softly from your forehead, a sudden calmness in the green of his eyes as he studies the peaceful euphoric smile on your face.

“We don’t have to go any further—“

“Stop trying to be a gentleman.” You huff, lifting your head and kissing him hard, hooking your legs around his waist. Drawing him closer, you’re both painfully aware that the only thing stopping him from touching you is his sweats. “I want you.”

Jake pauses for a moment. Rain slams against the windows, and the television goes dark as it passes into standby mode. His hands squeeze softly at your waist, eyes darting downward at your naked body under his. He would be a damn idiot to say no to everything he has been fantasising about.

“You keep condoms here?” He breathes out.

Your eyes light up before him, gleaming with mischief. You give a confident nod of your head as a cunning little smirk spreads across your lips.

“There are some in my parents’ bathroom,” You can tell right away that he doesn’t like that idea, but that’s okay, option two was by far your favourite anyway. “Or, you could just cum in me. I won’t tell.”

“Jesus Christ.” Jake drops his head forwards to rest against your naked chest, panting out a dry laugh. His fingers bruise into your middle as he starts to consider the choices that have led him here. Once he feels composed enough to look you in the eye again, he lifts his head and squints seriously. “You did not just say that.”

“I want you to. I’m on birth control anyway.” Long gone is the nervous girl standing on his porch and asking him to fix her lights. There’s a devious, lustful look in your eye and Jake’s pretty damn sure there’s magic in that look. All he knows is that it could make him do just about anything you asked of him. “Please?”

Jake swipes his thumb along the curve of your jaw, studying the depths of your irises for just a moment. He leans forwards and kisses your bottom lip, sucking at the plush skin, pulling away with his teeth. You swallow as he sits back, pushes his sweats down his legs and frees his swollen cock. From under him, you’ve got the perfect view.

Every ridge and valley in those impossible abs, each follicle of hair that lines his tanned chest, trailing down below his navel and sitting neatly around his pubic bone, trimmed just as neatly as his navy-standard hair cut. His cock is a good size, considerable even when he’s got one of his large hands wrapped around its base. Wide too, throbbing red at the tip, bending just slightly to the left.

Just looking has your mouth running dry.

Fisting his cock, Jake sits back on his heels and lets his gaze fall down to your glistening core once again. He looks down at your pretty face, then lowers himself between your legs, pressing his chest into yours, kissing you dizzyingly hard.

“You want it?” Jake asks one last time.

“I want it.” You answer him, smiling softly back at him, squeezing your thighs around his hips.

You’re looking up at him with such trust in your eyes that Jake can barely stand it. His heart thuds in his chest as he guides the tip of his cock between your folds, hesitating just briefly. There’s already no coming back from this. There’s no way to make up for the things he has already done. You’re so special, and he wants this so bad.

Your mouth sucks softly at his throat, quiet, pleased sounds spilling from your lips as he grinds the tip of his cock against your sensitive clit. Jake kisses your shoulder softly, then lowers his head to rest there as he drags his cock down to your warm entrance. You gasp softly as he presses into you, pushing forwards until he’s buried and stretching you open completely.

“Oh,” You whimper against his earlobe, pressing your nails into the swell of his shoulder blade. “You feel really fucking big.”

“So fuckin tight.” Jake grunts, his throat thick with desire as he stills inside of you, thumbs bruising into your hips. “Sweet fucking girl. Feel like you’re made just for me.”

This makes you smile into the curve of his jaw, humming in soft agreement as he starts to slowly rock his hips. Lightning flashes outside of the window, and it doesn’t matter one bit. The rest of the world is a million miles away. In here, it’s just the two of you.

“Oh fuck,” Jake shivers, eclipsing your throat with his hand, pulling you in for a heavy kiss, licking into your mouth as he drags his hips back until it’s just the tip. You gasp sharply against him as he snaps his hips forwards until he’s buried into you completely once. “Fuck. You like that?”

“Yeah. I want it like that.” You whimper into his skin, hugging your legs tight around his hips. You moan eagerly against his lips, the sound catching in your throat as he squeezes at the sides of your neck and drives his hips forwards sharply, drawing an excited squeak from your parted lips.

Jake grunts, rocking himself into you hard and fast. He’s waited so long for this, and so have you. The way you’re clawing at his back makes him want to give it all to you. Leaving feverish kisses along your collarbones, he fills you over and over. You curl both legs tighter around his waist, leaning your head back as far as you can against the couch cushion to give his lips better access to your throat.

The living room is filled with the sounds of your sex. Your desperate moans, panting and hard. Jake’s pleasured grunts, muffled softly by the curve of your shoulder. His skin slapping yours. It smells like him, smoky and mature. Sweat beads along his back and his forehead as he keeps up that merciless pace, fucking you so hard that you couldn’t tell him your own name anymore.

Jake pulls back just enough to grab the backs of your thighs and pin them to your chest, hooking your knees over his shoulders, filling you even deeper than before, making you cry out.

“Jake!” You beg, babbling incoherently into the curve of his shoulder as he goes right back to the pace he set before. Fucking you hard and fast, scrambling your brain to the point that the only thing on your mind is the ravenous way he’s staring down at you.

Your walls are squeezing around him perfectly and the sounds you’re making are just driving him insane. It’s been a long time since Jake felt as crazy about someone as he feels about you. He pants into the crook of your neck as his fingers tug at your hair, making you moan out even louder.

“I’m gonna cum — fuck, honey,” Jake grunts out like he’s been punched, his eyes screwing shut as he reaches between your bodies and rubs uniformed circles around your clit. “Are you close? — Can you cum one more time for me?”

“Yeah,” You breathe out, already trembling as you squeeze your thighs tighter around him. “Just—“ You don’t have the words, so you just reach out and grab his hand. Jake swallows hard as you wrap his open hand around the column of your throat and look up at him with that big, trusting look in your eyes again.

He grits his teeth as he squeezes at the sides of your throat, watching your sweet face contort in pleasure. Your hand dips between your legs and replaces where Jake’s had been, rubbing feverish patterns on your clit. Your stomach tightens in knots, your breathing grows heavy and Jake’s cock drives into you at just about the perfect angle each time. You open his mouth to warn him, but it’s already too late. You couldn’t find the words if you tried.

All you can do is grab onto those thick shoulders and cry out his name against the salty skin of his neck. Jake slows just slightly, offering you some reprieve through your sensitivity. Trying to be a gentleman once again. The brain fog starts to clear, you lift your head and press your lips to your earlobe.

“Cum in me,” You pant out, grabbing his shoulder to steady yourself. Jake groans against your chest, nodding his head feverishly. “Just like that, Jake, please.”

He’s relentless, fucking your through the sensitivity of your post-orgasm haze hard enough that grabbing onto those broad shoulders is the only thing that keeps you down to earth with him. Jake groans desperately. He wraps an arm under your back and pulls you as tight against him as physics will allow. You gasp softly, taking your lip between your teeth as he fills you, his cock throbbing against your walls. He seeks out your lips and kisses you hard, somehow more desperate now.

“Fuck, honey…” Jake breathes out, pressing a lazy kiss to the curve of your jaw. He makes no effort to move at first. “You alright?”

“Better than alright.” You answer contentedly, a soft smile toying at your lips as lightning flashes outside once again. Jake chuckles tiredly, lifting his head and kissing your lips.

He sighs, moving slow as he slips out of you and looks down at his cum dripping from between your legs.

“Oh, shit!” You realize, sitting up quickly and trying to reach around Jake for something to clean it with. He hooks an arm around your waist and pulls you tight against him. Truthfully, from the moment that you had laid your head on Jake’s abs, you hadn’t thought once about the consequences of fucking him right here in this spot.

“Forget it, I’ll — I’ll fix this,” He tells you calmly, already regretting that he’s going to have to live with what he has done on this couch. “Come on, cutie. Let’s go take a shower.”

It’s clear that this is foreign territory for you. Not the sex, but what comes after. He didn’t get up and leave. He didn’t run away with regret for what he did. He ran soap across your body and found your pyjamas for you.

You swallow softly, walking to sit on the edge of your bed. Jake runs a hand along his stubbled jaw as he lingers in the doorway to you room. You can’t help but notice that he got dressed again. Including his shoes. He looks you over, sitting there in fresh pyjamas, staring at him with that worried little look on your face.

He hasn’t ever seen your room here. It’s probably the one room in the house he has never been in. He’s been wondering what it’s like.

But that isn’t why he’s standing there. He sighs softly and crosses his arms over his chest.

“I should go — I mean, Ace is over there by himself.” Jake says quietly. You nod at him. You should probably say something too, but truthfully, not all of your words seem to have come back into your mind yet. “Are you coming with me?”

“Huh?”

“Well, I don’t wanna leave you over here by yourself after that weird ass movie.” Jake answers you with a shrug of his shoulders. “I figured you could just spend the night. If you want.”

Your mouth twitches at the corners as you push yourself up from the edge of your bed, nodding eagerly at him. You’ve got eleven days until your parents get back in town, and Jake permitting, you’re planning on making the most of that.

…

#jake hangman seresin #adelia recommends❤️‍🩹

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lovingjakeseresin · 7 months

Text

ITS ABOUT TIME

Brother's Best Friend - Part 9

Jake Seresin x F!Reader

A/N: I just wanted to let y'all know how much your enthusiasm and encouragement means to me. Your support, whether it's in the form of comments, reblogs, or asks, literally inspires me to keep writing and I just wanted to say thank you for your kind words! You guys seriously rock!

Summary: The trials and tribulations of falling for your brother's best friend.

CW: Uhh.. you're gonna love it

WC: ~2500

Part 1 | Masterlist

“What’re you up to tonight?” Jake asks casually, about five minutes after you’ve entered the kitchen.

You glance up from your still steeping tea hesitantly; you haven’t spoken to Jake since the pervious night at the club and you’ve all but resolved never to make eye contact with him again. “Uh,” you begin shakily, the stress of the situation resulting in a minor mental shutdown.

You watch as your brother tries on a third Hawaiian shirt and walks over to the mirror in the front hall to check himself out.

You gulp uneasily, your eyes meeting Jake’s as Bradley leaves the kitchen. “Just studying,” you finish, finally remembering your plans for the evening.

“Studying, huh?” Bradley calls from the foyer. A second later, he reemerges with a smirk on his face. “I know what that means.” He wiggles his eyebrows at you and then shoots Jake a knowing grin.

Jake appears, at the very least, unimpressed with Bradley’s insinuation and, quite possibly, even critical of it. He gives him an irked look and proceeds to flip more aggressively through an old National Geographic magazine, one from the stack currently sitting on the living room coffee table. “You look like a douche in that shirt,” Jake grumbles.

Bradley’s eyebrows converge as he stares at his friend with a mixture of shock and disappointment. “Is that true?” he asks, turning to you for support as if you’re there to mediate.

You shrug. “I don’t think the shirt has anything to do with it,” you say.

Jake snorts out a laugh while Bradley’s mouth falls open in outrage. He looks between you and Jake and shakes his head. “That’s how it’s gonna be?”

“Maybe wear a t-shirt,” you suggest. “Borrow one of Jake’s.”

Jake gives you an amused look. “You think I’m just handing out band tees?”

Bradley narrows his eyes. “I feel like I’m missing something.”

“I just finished a load of laundry and I’ve got a Pantera shirt you can wear,” you continue, already smiling in anticipation of Jake’s reaction.

Jake lifts his eyebrows with a grin. “I thought that wasn’t appropriate dating attire. Too many skulls or some shit?”

Bradley places his hands on his hips and tilts his head suspiciously. “I…” he begins. “I have questions,” he concludes, still glancing between you and Jake. His knotted eyebrows indeed confirm just how perplexed he is. “But I’m already late. So, I guess douche shirt’s gonna have to do.” He grabs his jacket off the back of a kitchen chair and heads back out into the hall.

“Have fun!” Jake calls, leaning into the table so that his voice carries through to the front door.

“You sure you don’t want to come?” Bradley calls back. “We’ll be meeting up with her friends later tonight. They’re female.”

You roll your eyes, removing the tea bag from your mug. You look up to see that Jake’s gaze is trained on you.

��I’m good,” Jake calls back, finally breaking eye contact with you. He reverts his attention to the article before him detailing the mating rituals of various species of primates.

“See you tomorrow, then!” Bradley calls, and then the door shuts behind him.

A predictable, but still awkward, silence follows Bradley's departure. You finish preparing your tea while your heart batters relentlessly against your ribcage, daring you to say something – anything – about the previous night’s affairs. Naturally, you ignore this sensible impulse, starting for the staircase mutely after shooting Jake a quick, rigid smile.

Jake’s eyes follow you as you cross the room. “You got a date with ‘study group’ guy?” he asks pointedly, using air quotes to emphasize study group as though your evening is sure to consist of anything but that.

You pause, holding your mug close to your chest. “It’s not a date,” you say, although, at this point, you kind of wish that it were.

Jake raises his eyebrows like your response has only served to reinforce his skepticism. “Why do you even need to study?” he says with a cringe. “You’re already smart.”

You purse your lips to suppress a grin. “Funny,” you comment, continuing toward the stairs.

“I could help,” Jake offers.

You glance at him over your shoulder in surprise. “What?”

Jake closes the magazine and straightens his back. “I could help you study.”

You stare at him, trying to imagine how that might go down. “What do you know about psychology?” you ask, having already decided that, despite his noblest intentions, Jake’s assistance would be absolutely useless.

Jake scoffs. “I don’t need to know anything about it to help you cram for a test. You got flash cards?”

You give him a flat look. “It’s an oral exam.”

The corner of his mouth twitches. “Say what, now?”

You close your eyes and massage your temple irritably. “It’s worth fifty percent of my grade.”

Jake grimaces. “How good are you at oral?”

You let out an indignant cry, wishing you had something in your hands to throw at him other than a ceramic mug full of scalding liquid. “And this is why I’m studying with ‘study group’ guy,” you retort, stomping up the stairs.

“I’m joking!” Jake laughs, getting to his feet. “Come back!”

But you’re already on the second floor and you shut your bedroom door before he can say anything else.

…

Twenty minutes later, you return with your book bag, your empty mug, and a disparaging look on your face as Jake approaches the bottom of the stairs to greet you with a sheepish grin.

“Come on, Baby B,” he says as you set your bag down and glide by him with an eyeroll, heading for the sink. “It was a joke.” He follows you through the kitchen and leans into the counter as you start to wash your mug.

You bite into the inside of your cheek to keep a straight face. It’s not every day that Jake takes responsibility for his actions, and you’re sort of enjoying the groveling. “I’m not mad, I just think you’re an idiot.”

“See? I told you you’re smart,” Jake says.

You sigh, glancing up at him wearily. “Unfortunately, my extensive knowledge of Jake Seresin isn’t going to help me pass my midterm.”

“Shame,” he responds with a slight grin. “’Cause you’d ace that.”

You chuckle. “You think?”

Jake’s smile falters and he leans his back into the refrigerator. His eyes scan your face like he’s searching for something. You wonder if he’s finally going to address the elephant in the room, but he just exhales moodily and drops his gaze. “Well, have fun,” he mumbles to the floor.

You narrow your eyes and let out a somewhat resentful scoff. It’s just like Jake to lead a girl on, and you should have known that – after all, you’re apparently the leading expert on Jake Seresin. “Oh yes,” you say. “Studying’s a blast.”

Jake lifts his eyes solemnly. “Come on, you’re not that naïve.”

“What are you talking about?” you ask, picking your book bag back up.

Jake’s gaze slips briefly to your bare abdomen, framed by the hem of your crop top and the band of your baggy joggers. “This dude only wants one thing,” he says. “And it’s not to help you prepare for midterms.”

You let out a cackle and head out of the kitchen. “Seresin, please!” you exclaim. “Not every guy in the world is a total pig.”

“How many people are you meeting tonight?” he asks, trailing behind you.

You pause at the door before putting on your shoes. “He couldn’t get a hold of anyone else,” you respond innocently, trying not to cringe at the – now that you think about it – ridiculous excuse ‘study group’ guy has given you.

“Right,” Jake mutters, taking the bag off your shoulder when you bend down to put on your sneakers.

You stand back up and your eyes meet his for a moment. He looks like he’s got more to say but you have a feeling he isn’t going to say it. “I can handle myself,” you reassure him.

Jake watches you with a dubious expression. “As long as you know what you’re walking into,” he says.

You laugh, taking a step back to ease some of the tension that’s got your back muscles seizing up. “And even if he does have an ulterior motive – which I seriously doubt – would it really be so terrible?”

Jake doesn’t seem as amused at this prospect as you. “It would be manipulative,” he responds levelly.

You shrug nonchalantly. “I don’t think it’s a big deal.”

He squints slightly and you feel like he’s judging your answer. “I thought you needed to study.”

“I do!” you respond defensively. “And I’m not going with the intention of engaging in any…” you pause, thinking of a way to put what you’re about to say more delicately. “… other activities,” you finish with a minor wince. “But, if an opportunity happens to present itself –”

Jake raises his eyebrows. “An opportunity,” he echoes in the same disapproving tone.

“What, like you’ve never taken advantage of an opportunity.”

Jake juts out his jaw in a sulking manner, pondering over your allegation without disputing it. He looks a fair bit guilty but that may very well be your personal interpretation. Finally, he reaches for the door and opens it resignedly. “Call me if you need me,” he says.

You sigh, standing in front of the open door. “You don’t have any plans?” you ask, almost cautiously because you probably don’t want to know the answer.

Jake purses his lips and shakes his head.

This gives you pause, but you try not to let the defeated look on his face sway you. You aren’t sure what he stands to gain from this particular transaction, but you doubt his motive for offering to help is entirely altruistic.

Perhaps he’s gunning for a clean slate. Trying to be a friend. Trying to eclipse recent, reprehensible behavior with an act of goodwill. Maybe he’s worried that you’re mad, or that he might lose you.

The fact of the matter is, you could speculate till the cows come home, but you won’t know unless you ask. So, in a move not even you could have predicted, you do just that. “Why would you even want to waste your evening studying?” you probe.

Jake tilts his head to the side and squints his eyes at you in confusion. “Just tryin’ to help,” he responds.

You look down at your feet uncomfortably and shrug, but continue prodding, nonetheless. “I mean, you could be out with my brother.” What you really want to say is that he could be hooking up with a new chick within the hour if he feels like it; it wouldn’t even be a challenge.

“Didn’t wanna crash his date.”

You glance up at him sharply, wondering if that is, indeed, the only reason he chose to stay behind. His eyes slide slowly over your face as though he’s trying to guess what you’re going to say next. You gulp uneasily; being scrutinized by the guy of your dreams is hardly an enjoyable pastime. At the same time, it’s wildly thrilling to have his undivided attention. “No other reason?” you ask with a slight break in your voice, your throat decidedly too dry to pose any further questions.

Jake glances pointedly at the open door he's still holding and then back at you. He doesn’t respond, nor does he inquire why you’ve still not left. Instead, he starts to slowly close the door, his eyes boring into yours so intently you think the weight of his gaze might vaporize you.

You feel a warmth wash over you – no; a heat. It’s a distressingly abrupt sensation, like you’ve been shoved into an oven set to broil. But it’s nothing new. You’ve experienced this kind of nauseating high before and you’re just as unamused with this bodily reaction now as you’ve been in the past.

Jake stands very still, his back to the door he’s just shut, stalling. And despite the very persistent voice in the back of your head telling you he can’t possibly be interested in pursuing anything remotely romantic with his best friend’s little sister, the hesitation on his face is telling quite a different tale. Jake is torn.

You can relate. You’ve been simultaneously longing for and avoiding direct contact with him for ages. “You, uh” – you take a shallow breath and nervously lick your lips. “You think I’ll get more studying done if I stay?” you ask faintly.

Jake watches you carefully, as though he’s giving himself a minute to consider your question. He takes a step toward you, lowering his face to maintain eye contact. And, while his expression remains mostly impassive, you swear that you notice a brief flicker of exhilaration pass over his features right before he says, “I can’t promise that.”

You stare at him, frozen in place as he takes your chin in his hand and lifts it ever so slightly, as if he knows that you’re in no condition to elevate it on your own. Then, just as you’re about to say something completely irrelevant to fill the silence, Jake’s lips pass softly over yours.

And that’s when you come entirely apart. Your book bag crashes to the floor as your arm drops limply at your side. Your legs vibrate feebly, fighting to keep you standing. But you ignore the – indeed concerning – widespread weakness sweeping through your body. Because the only matter worth attending to is Jake’s hand as it slides purposely down to your throat, his thumb curling around as though he means to choke you.

Admittedly, you’d let him.

But his fingers don’t commit to a firm grasp by any means, instead, they glide up and down, intermittently applying a gentle pressure to your neck as his tongue curves boldly into your open mouth.

Jake Seresin is kissing you.

In a way that no one’s ever kissed you before. In a way that rattles you. Because it’s hungry and unreserved. Because it’s dangerously intimate. Because it’s Jake Seresin.

He’s kissing you like he already knows just how you like to be kissed. Or… the way you like to be kissed just happens to be the way he kisses. He’s had plenty of practice, after all.

Whatever the case may be, there’s a fire at the tip of every one of his fingers, and it follows the length of your collarbone in their wake. There’s a spark in the friction of every touch, at every point of contact.

It’s in the sweet burn of your bottom lip when he catches it between his teeth. It’s in the way he nudges your face with the tip of his nose in between kisses. It’s in his eyes when he finally releases your lips and meets your gaze; it’s in the silence.

You swallow, looking up at him anxiously, unsure how it’s even possible that you’re still standing. Jake is watching you with an unsettling blend of affection and alarm. He sighs finally and tugs on your elbow, pulling you in to rest his forehead over yours. “Fuck,” he mutters, closing his eyes and releasing a heavy – and noticeably unsteady – breath. “Your brother’s gonna kill me.”

Hangman Tag List:

A/N: I've condensed my Hangman list to make room for new people by removing accounts that have been on the list the longest and haven't interacted in a while. If I've removed you but you still want to be on the list, please let me know!

The rest of the list will be in the comments. Let me know if you don't want to be tagged anymore.

@atarmychick007

@callsign-sunshine

@shanimallina87

@wkndwlff

@thefandomimagines

@lunamoonbby

@xoxabs88xox

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#jake seresin #jake hangman seresin #adelia recommends❤️‍🩹

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