#arson’s dumpster fire celebration
Note
1) I’m so sorry for your loss.
2) Huge congratulations! 🍾🎉
3) If there is still a spot, and you don’t mind, 🧑🚒 with delay, where the reader is kissing and undressing Hotch while he is getting ready for work.
3 Minutes or Less
pairing: fem!reader x aaron hotchner
prompt: [ DELAY ] one muse is trying to get ready to go somewhere while the other keeps kissing them and unbutton/unzipping their clothes.
content: 18+/nsfw/MINORS DNI, oral sex (fem receiving)
an: hope you enjoy this kristin, thanks for sending this in, it was fun to write! <3
word count: 548
join my celebration here! 🔥
When he bends to kiss you, your eyes open just a fraction, your lips instantly molding to his. His lips are a bit salty indicating that he’s just got in from his run. The sun is just peaking through the blinds; if he’s running this early it means he’s leaving.
“No, don’t,” You groan, trying to reach for him when he breaks the kiss.
“It’s not by choice baby, but I woke up early enough to make you breakfast before I go,” He says before stepping into the bathroom.
You’re groggy, barely able to keep your eyes open and mumble something in protest before falling back asleep. Your alarm rings 15 minutes later, and you manage to drag yourself out of bed to join Aaron in the bathroom.
He’s just begun to button up his shirt, and his pants are buttoned but his belt is undone. He looks irresistible with his hair still damp and the top of his chest still partly visible. You make your way over to him slowly, wrapping your arms around his waist and looking at him with puppy eyes.
“How can I help you?” He plants a quick kiss on your lips.
You balance on your tiptoes, planting kisses at the base of his neck, “By taking your clothes off.”
“Sweetheart,”
“You just got home,” You whine, switching to the other side of his neck. You start to suck a mark into the skin there as you push his hands away from the buttons on his shirt.
“I know and I’m sorry, I am but I have to go to work,” His breathing is getting heavier and though his words protest, he doesn’t move. You get his shirt completely unbuttoned and make quick work of his pants.
“Don’t you want me?” You look up at him innocently, planting one of his hands on your ass, the other on your breast.
When he looks down at you his eyes are cloudy with lust and he gropes you hard, making your mouth drop open as you sigh, “Of course I want you.”
“Then let’s skip breakfast and you can have me.”
He checks his watch, and then it’s happening quickly. He gets you peeled out of your pajamas and hoisted on the counter in less than 30 seconds. He wastes no time, dropping to his knees and licking a flat line up your pussy before his lips suction over your clit.
You throw your head back, bucking your hips against his tongue. He gives you no time to adjust, lapping and sucking at you like his life depends on your orgasm. One of his hands finds yours and plants in his hair, encouraging you to pull at it. You do and both do his hands fall to your thighs, keeping you wide open for him as he brings you to the peak of your orgasm.
When you come down you feel his lips leaving soft kisses on the inside of your thighs, and glance down to find him smirking at you.
“What’re you smirking at Hotchner?”
He checks his watch again as rises to his feet, giving you a wet kiss that tastes of yourself, “I’m just as efficient as I thought I was. Got you to cum in 3 minutes, means we can still have breakfast.”
#and thank u for all the kind wordssss <3#kristin 🌖#arson’s dumpster fire celebration#fem!reader x aaron hotchner#celebration blurbs#not sfw#replies#aaron hotchner x fem! reader
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who’s your celebrity crush?
rant. just do it
how many pairs of shoes do you have?
name a dog
what unusual talent do you have?
what’s the most interesting schools gossip you’ve ever heard?
what’s a question do you constantly get asked?
if you had to get a tattoo right now, what would you get and where?
google the top song from the year you were born
rant about your favorite musician
describe your blog in 3-5 words
what’s a conspiracy you believe in?
if you could break one of your bad habits which would you choose?
what’s something you can’t stop buying?
what celebrity would you rate a PERFECT 10?
if you had to dye your hair an unnatural color right now, what would you choose?
what do you think about a lot
what does home mean to you?
what do you think you’d be arrested for?
post a picture of the outfit you would choose if you could have any outfit you wanted
describe your aesthetic
Hi!!!
you know this already.
hmm, don't really feel it rn. missing past friendships though
4?
grogurt
idk
i don't remember
what's wrong
the lyrics to 505 on my wrists
there's more than 1
They're complete idiots!! i need to see what goes on in alex turner's mind frr
chaotic dumpster fire
the moon landing was fake!! and that the earth is flat, it is
the not doing my work thing
clothes
olivia rodrigaooooo and maya hawke
Purple!!!!!!! or pink
runaways
people i love
murder and arson along with many other things!
i have a list, like a lot of nico's outfits and alex turners 2016 glastonbury fit
um. chaotic
hi
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long way down to the underground | chapter 1
Summary: It’s an old tale, except…Eurydice was already waist-deep in the Underworld when he met Orpheus.
Notes: Hawks x G/N Composer! Reader
Story: previous | next
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This is the thirty-seventh (thirty-eighth? fortieth?) document you had to sign with your already cramping hand and you’re seriously considering tossing them all into a dumpster fire if fire wasn’t the reason you were in this mess to begin with.
The next few weeks after the accident (arson by some gang, apparently) are spent getting everything back on track.
You did not expect this much paperwork to come with it.
Ugh.
You lean back and stretch in your chair, wincing at the audible pops your back made as you did, tearing your eyes away from your desktop screen.
With relocation still underway, you were instructed to work from home until further notice, corresponding through emails until a satellite office could be established.
It wasn’t really a problem; you lived alone and you had your own recording set-up if you wanted to work on a demo. Most of your work files were backed up on a cloud (thank God for modern tech, you probably just overreacted the day of the fire) and you still had basic instruments in case you wanted to arrange something.
You sigh.
Okay, maybe your apartment was still on the small side (struggling musician and all) and what soundproofing you had didn’t block out everything (from construction machines across the street to neighbors fucking), but it was still your apartment.
You had fridge magnets from the places you’ve been all over Japan. Framed and signed posters and album covers lined your walls. A bulletin board dedicated to photos, tickets, backstage passes and other paraphernalia from singers and other musicians you’ve worked with.
Furnished just enough. Music is always playing, whether it was your own or someone else’s. Cluttered, cozy and lived in.
It was home.
.
.
.
At home as you were, though, there were still insurance claims to receive, files to sift through, warranty policies to review and the last few weeks of work to salvage if not work on.
.
.
.
There was a whole orientation on this when you were first hired.
Emergency Response and Recuperation.
You should’ve known better.
.
.
.
You glance at the to-do list you hastily wrote up in your planner, grimacing that the unmarked checkboxes still outnumbered the checked ones.
.
.
.
Ugh.
You really should’ve known better.
The clock on your phone screen told you that it was roughly half past five.
You groan again, getting off your office chair.
A much-needed break was in order.
You save whatever files were open on your laptop before shutting it down.
And dinner too, if you could help it.
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Another one of the perks your apartment had to offer was that the complex was within walking distance of Fukuoka’s shopping district, giving you a variety of places to eat.
You take your time on the streets, earphones in and music up as you make your way and map out your night.
You’ll take your time with dinner, and finish the reimbursement form for your work laptop then call it a night. Tomorrow morning you’d follow up on Ishikawa from accounting and maybe add to the latest song you were writing, if inspiration allowed for it. Maybe get some groceries later this week, too.
Your eyes narrow at the crowd clogging up the sidewalk on the other side of the road.
Rallentando.
Maybe there was a hero?
And it took you tiptoeing to see above someone’s head to catch a glimpse of crimson wings.
Oh.
He was on patrol.
In your area.
Even with your earphones on, you can still hear a few feminine squeals and childish cries, excited voices from people of all ages as they surround the Number Two Hero.
You glance at the scene a beat more before continuing your walking, shrugging off the idea of joining the fray.
A tempo.
You may be grateful to Hawks for saving your life, but you were busy and hungry and not in the mood to wade through all the people for someone who wouldn’t even remember you.
It was all in a day’s work, you recall telling yourself that day.
.
.
.
Did his job also entail calling you Songbird, though?
.
.
.
You stepped into the alley that led to your favorite izakayas in the district. It was thankfully empty, and from the restaurant’s windows, you can tell they weren’t as occupied either.
Your steps go from andante to moderato.
Then there was a gust of wind and a shadow overhead.
Caesura.
And then Hawks was right before you.
You manage to take off one of your earbuds in time to hear him say, “Hey, Songbird.”
You blink at him. “You remember me?”
“Of course, it’s only been a few weeks since you jumped out of a building and into my arms,”
If you were flustered at that, you don’t show it. “Right,” You look around. Maybe he had to check out all the alleys before he could call it a day.
The alley was still empty.
He’ll be off in no time.
You give him a smile. “Thanks again for that, by the way.”
He waves you off. “Don’t mention it,”
For a moment, you just look at him. You’ve only seen his face in short glimpses, in passing billboards and magazine ads, maybe even the occasional skippable YouTube commercial.
(Which you, admittedly, have opted to skip more often than not.)
And on the day of the fire, you maybe saw him up close for one, two minutes before he took you to the ground then sped off into the sky?
Now he seems more relaxed, hands tucked into his pockets. His wings were another story completely, though.
They seem bigger, even if they were folded behind him. His feathers look plush and supple.
If he noticed you staring, he doesn’t mention it. Instead, he gives you a lazy grin. Almost cheeky.
“You work for Hayashi Records, right?”
You snap your gaze back to his face and nod. “Yeah,”
Were you caught staring? Most definitely yes.
But he’s probably used to the attention, anyways.
“So what do you do?” he cocks his head to the side.
“I’m a composer,” You were about to add to the answer when you realize that he didn’t leave right away like you thought.
He was still here.
Why? The street looked pretty safe.
“Do you do anything else?”
You don’t understand why he was still talking to you.
Didn’t your acquaintance end as soon as the villain attack was over?
You nod anyways. “I’m a composer, but I’ve done just about everything, really.”
You busy yourself by unplugging your earphones and tucking them into your pocket with your phone.
Is he always like this? Did he always follow up on the people he saved?
When you look back up, you ask him, “Don’t you have other hero things to do?”
He only gives you that grin again. “I do, but I have some time to kill.” he gestures around him. “And besides, this place is the last area on my patrol.”
“I see,” you say slowly.
How the heck were you supposed to respond to that?
You clear your throat. “I’ve been working from home all day. Emergency Response and Recuperation and all that. A lot of paperwork,”
You’re rambling.
“I got hungry and my head was starting to ache so I’m taking a break for dinner.” you nod over to the izakaya. “One of my favorite spots.”
Oh my god, kill me now.
Hawks raises a brow. “You were going to dinner? Well so am I.”
Wait.
Is he..?
“How about it?”
He is.
Holy shit.
You barely manage to follow behind him as he strides over to the izakaya.
He even opens the door for you.
“After you, Songbird.”
You walk in the restaurant in a bit of a daze.
Who were you, that you were about to share a meal with the Number Two Hero?
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It’s after you’ve settled into a private booth and ordered that Hawks spoke again.
“So how long have you worked under Hayashi?”
“About two years,” you take a sip of your water. “That’s including my unpaid internships,”
Then you’re both silent.
You swallow, and the air feels like a chord that was a microtone off.
Not completely off key, but not right either.
Just...off. Strange.
A little jarring.
Hawks must’ve noticed that you were uncomfortable because he shifts in his seat.
“Be honest, did I come on too strong?”
And here you thought you were the one overstepping your boundaries.
You shake your head. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m just surprised that you’d have dinner with a random person you rescued.”
“I uhh,” he rubs the back of his neck. “I’m actually familiar with your work,”
“What?”
“I thought I recognized your name somewhere so I looked it up. You worked with Ayapeta on an album?”
He was a fan.
Again, holy shit.
He looks up at you. It’s then that you realize his usual visor was on the table. “I’m gonna ask you again, am I coming on too strong?”
You shake your head. “I just never really had a fan approach me before,”
You were far too used to the singers getting all the credit for the songs you wrote.
It actually feels nice.
The waiter arrives with your orders and you give a small thanks, getting your bowl and chopsticks.
“Itadakimasu.” The two of you say in unison.
A due.
You smile at him before digging in.
Yes, the ramen you ordered was exactly what you needed.
You look across the table to see the yakitori skewer he was helping himself to. “Isn’t that cannibalism?” you ask after swallowing.
Hawks stops mid-bite. “In case you didn’t notice, I’m a hawk.”
You shrug. “Still a bird.”
He chuckles. “What can I say, chicken’s pretty good.”
You roll your eyes at him, and taking another good slurp from your ramen bowl.
Hawks adds, “I try to avoid chicken wings if I can help it, though. Can’t be too cannibalistic now can we?”
After swallowing, you meet his eyes from across the table.
Amabile.
And this time, you chuckle along with him.
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Hawks was a celebrity. You know this much.
While you weren’t aware of any dating scandals or affairs on his end of the showbiz spectrum, you knew that he was considered an eligible bachelor by the press.
So what was he doing here with you?
The curiosity gnawed at you so insistently that, when the tab’s been paid and you’re out of the restaurant, you ask him, “Why’d you come along with me?”
He stops in his tracks. “Can’t I share a meal with someone who seemed nice?”
You purse your lips. “You barely even know me.”
Granted, even if you were a villain, you were pretty sure he could beat you in a fight anytime.
The silent dissonance is back again.
You watch as he nods his head, just a little bit. “I feel like I’ve always known you.”
You raise a brow. “Do you say that to everyone you hit on?”
“Nah,” He shakes his head. “Only for songbirds that fall into my arms.” He starts walking again. You follow suit as you roll your eyes, retort ready and then he speaks again.
“How about it, we go on one date?”
You furrow your brows. “Wasn’t this a date?”
He grins, shaking his head again. “Close, but no cigar.” he tucks his hands into his jacket pockets. “Sadly my favorite place burned down in the last Nomu incident.”
You nodded, remembering seeing it on the news the day it happened. You watched the carnage unfold from bay windows in your studio building, then you were told to evacuate to the lower floors before the fighting escalated any further.
Maybe I didn’t have it so bad...
“But I know of another place I can take you.”
You smile at him.
Then a phone rings.
But it isn’t yours.
You hear Hawks curse under his breath. “Hey listen Songbird, I’ll be busy the next few days and I bet you will be too with your Emergency Recuperation whatever,” he winces as his phone kept ringing.
“But I’ll come find you when I’m free so we could set a date.”
You barely stutter out an affirmation when Hawks spreads out his wings. “I’ll see you soon, Songbird.”
And then he was off.
Leaving you staring up at the sky yet again.
.
.
.
You walk home in a daze.
Did tonight really just happen?
You shake your head. Maybe this was just a one-time thing.
That seemed about right.
You were just in the area.
He’d probably forget when he rescues someone else.
.
.
.
This doesn’t stop you from blushing all the way home, though.
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All thoughts of Hawks are banished when you get back to work for the next few days.
It was all probably just by chance. One of those once-in-a lifetime things that might as well happen to you because real life was weird that way.
And real life was also taxing because Ishikawa hasn’t looked over your statements yet and you were missing a few more requirements for your insurance claim.
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A few days later, you find yourself trudging home from the grocery store as planned.
You're carrying a whole tray of eggs in one hand while your other groceries sit tight in the reusable bag hanging off your other shoulder.
Even though the night is peaceful, you were still stressed.
You still had some forms to fill up and lost equipment to canvass for and a meeting with one of the bands and-
“Hey there, Songbird,”
-and you yelp at the voice, dropping the carton and spilling eggs all over the pavement.
You look up at the sight of an equally shocked Winged Hero.
Oh.
He didn’t just not forget about you.
He came.
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A/N: in case the whole basis for this fic isn’t enough to go by, i’m also a musical nerd. i’ll try updating this weekly, as well.
thanks for reading!
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the declassified texts of the inquisition’s elite [91]
(919): This may be the most redneck thing I've ever said, but I know all there is to know about farting dogs
-
(469):I have only been here for a week and might contributed to a dumpster fire on accident.
-
“Are you sure?”
“That I know everything about farting dogs? Hell yeah I’m sure,” Sera says, looking strangely offended. “You think I’d lie about that? The only reasons someone says they know everything about farting dogs is because it’s true. That’s a stupid thing to lie about. If I was gonna lie something about my general knowledge I’d lie about — knowing everything about the stock market. Which is like. No one knows everything about the stock market.” Sera points a finger at Dorian. “Before you say anything, no one. Know. Everything. About. The. Stock. Market. Period. And anyone who says they do is lying out of their unwashed asshole.”
“You, as always, paint the most color picture. Have you considered writing copy?”
“I didn’t mean that you didn’t know everything about farting dogs,” Malika says before Sera and Dorian can get into the woes of advertising, “I mean are you sure that’s the most redneck thing you’ve ever said?”
Sera falters. “I mean. I don’t think I’ve ever said anything more redneck than that. It’s not possible.”
“Are you sure?” Malika presses. “Like, really sure?”
“Also, how are you saying you’re redneck? Weren’t you raised in the inner city? You went to private school.”
“I was kicked out of private school, Pavus. Because I wasn’t posh enough. And I was adopted into the inner city but like — it’s different. I wasn’t born to it and I pretty much fucked off back to my roots as soon as I could get away.” Sera rolls her eyes. “Besides, you gonna tell me that the entire country of Ferelden doesn’t count as country?”
Dorian opens his mouth to argue and then closes it. “Alright. You have me there. Even Denerim is more suburb than urban. I still can’t believe that their capital city doesn’t even have a railway. And only four bus lines.”
“It does, but it’s a railway that goes to the other side of the country with like, five stops.”
“A point to Denerim’s favor is that they mostly ride bikes and walk everywhere.”
“Because everything worth doing is in walking distance? Yes. Right. Top marks for having things to do. I can knock out touring Denerim in one day, maybe two if I go very slowly.”
“Guys, we’re not here to rag on Ferelden.”
Sera and Dorian pointedly close their mouths but Malika can see them having some kind of mental exchange.
“Anyway Sera, are you sure that’s the most counter thing you’ve ever said? Because sometimes you and Cullen go off and it’s like…really entertaining. Also kind of eerie because sometimes I forget you both are Ferelden stock.”
“Rutherford is way more country than I am. He’s from a hand to god farm.” Sera hesitates. “Shit. Do you remember me saying something more country than knowing everything about dog farts?”
“Not off the top of my head, but if your ceiling or red neck country is knowing everything about dog farts I’m pretty sure that…like. You’ve passed your own limit.”
“Well shit. Alright, fine. I still know everything about dog farts. But maybe it’s not the most red neck country shit I’ve ever said or will say. I guess I’ve got to leave that option open from now on. Fuck. I’m kind of scared to know what my peak is now.” Sera grabs her phone. “I’m gonna ask Rutherford if he thinks he’s peaked. Or what the most country thing he’s ever said is. If I haven’t beat that I’m fine.”
-
“Kaaras. Are you sure Kaaras? Our Kaaras? Six foot four, curly horns, hunched shoulders, soft mid-section, slight stammer, Kaaras?” Evelyn repeats dumbly. “That Kaaras? Started a dumpster fire?”
“Based on the picture I got from Malika, it looks like a pretty tame dumpster fire,” Max says, examining something on his phone. “Yeah. Looks fine. Under control and everything.”
Evelyn looks dumbfounded. “Wait, are you sure it’s our Kaaras though? I can’t — a dumpster fire?”
“A small one.”
“I don’t care how big or small it was. I care that it’s a dumpster fire. I can’t comprehend it.”
“Facts don’t require comprehension from you, Lyn,” Max replies. “I’m so proud of him. All grown up and setting fires. Herah and I have to take him out to celebrate.”
“Arson isn’t something you celebrate.”
“Delinquency is something we do,” Max points out. “Controlled delinquency, of course.”
“You’re just making terms up now,” Evelyn groans. “Why were they starting fires?”
“Presumably to burn stuff,” Max says. “Or stay warm.”
“You don’t even know the context behind it do you? You didn’t even think to ask?”
“Evelyn, why would I ask? You think I ask everyone about the context of everything they tell me? Don’t be ridiculous. It’d be a non-stop series of automated ok but why. I don’t have the time or brain capacity for that. It’s best to just — accept things as is, you know? The why will eventually come to light when necessary on its own terms.”
“Max, that’s a very, very lax way of going about things.”
“And you’ll notice I’m not stressed about anything.”
“Yes you are, you just live your life in constant repression,” Evelyn replies. “It’s not any healthier than having the stress out in the open for everyone to see.”
“Ah, but no one can see it and therefore no one can bother me about it,” Max grins, giving his cousin a cheeky finger gun. “And one day all the stress will give me more internal bleeding than normal and I will die. But that’s a problem for future Maxwell. Current Maxwell is just going to enjoy his friends sending him cool pictures and developing into fire setting adults.”
“Max, you worry me.”
“Chill, cousin. Alright, and look — it was a practice fire! For later.”
“What do you mean for later.”
“I mean for later. I guess they’re burning something bigger tonight.”
Evelyn reaches for her phone even as Max is texting away on his, looking quite cheerful.
“I’m glad they’re taking their jobs seriously,” he says. “Practicing an entire day before hand. That’s dedication to the craft. Wonderful. Absolutely wonderful.”
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Character Sheet: Cav
CW for mentions of violence/death here and there
BASICS
Full name: Cian Amarante Cavanaugh
Nickname(s): Cav
Title(s): n/a, unless ‘old man’ or ‘actual dumpster fire’ count.
Sex: Male
Gender: Male
Height: 6′6″
Age: Chronologically? Heck, bruh. Thousands of years old in any given verse. Physically stuck between late 30′s to mid 40′s which was around the age he was cursed.
Zodiac: shrug emoji
Spoken languages: Most fluent in English, Irish and Scots Gaelic, and French, both modern and some ancient variants. He is approximately conversational in many other languages, though there’s surely languages even he hasn’t encountered yet.
PHYSICAL CHARACTERISTICS
Hair color: Brown
Eye color: Black, or a very very very dark brown
Skin tone: Has a bit of an olive complexion
Body type: These days he’s rocking a bit of a dad bod. The muscle is there somewhere under a bit of pudge.
Voice: Singing Examples: [1] [2] [3] unfortunately I currently haven’t found a fitting example for his everyday speech, but hopefully this at least gets the general feel across!
Dominant hand: Right
Posture: Relaxed, tends to rest his weight on one side, droopy shoulders and casual lackadaisical gait
Scars: A gash over his heart is one scar he has in common between every verse, along with various battle scars. In his general fantasy verse he has a scar all the way around his neck from his first true ‘death’ by beheading.
Tattoos: None
Birthmarks: None
Most noticeable feature(s): Scruffy, appears a bit unkempt just about at all times. Never seen without his scarf or gloves.
CHILDHOOD
Place of birth: Near what’s now known as Postwick, Galar
Hometown: +gestures vaguely at galar+
Birth weight/height: What an oddly specific question. He was probably a bit of a chonker, above average birth weight. may his mother rest in peace
First words: an adorable attempt at saying rookidee, though it probably just came out as ‘wookie’
Siblings: Adoptive half-brother. He doesn’t know much of anything of his birth family. Some verses he has a twin sister, I should really flesh one of those out bc she’s just as much of a gremlin as he is.
Parents: Unknown and/or deceased. Death by backstory, they deserved better
Parental involvement: He doesn’t remember much before he was adopted, but he was raised with a lot of love and care by just about every set of parents he’s ever had in any verse.
Children: Also depends on the verse, tbh. Haven’t quite figured out how to go about it, hence why it may not be applicable to every verse, but... in theory, he has a daughter. She is a gorgeous eldritch abomination shaped like a lady and he couldn’t be more proud of her
Prominently: Cav was honestly pretty dense. He was happy and friendly and got along with everyone, but mostly just because he had no idea how some people around him didn’t like him. Ignorance is truly bliss
ADULT LIFE
Occupation: Oh, a bit of everything. In modern times he tends to taxi folk around.
Current residence: N/A, travels anywhere and everywhere.
Close friends: What’re thooooooooooooooose
Relationship status: Single in his pokeverse. Married or engaged in just about every other.
Financial status: A bit complicated. He probably has a slew of secret offshore accounts he’s built up over the years. Probably well off, just doesn’t really show it.
Criminal record: Well! He tries not to get caught because it’s terribly hard to explain why he has a record dating back centuries. Thankfully most just believe it to be a coincidence. He’s done so much freaking crime though, almost entirely petty stuff... maybe a bit of grand theft auto if he’s particularly bored. He loves cars. Oh, maybe even a touch of arson if he’s absolutely certain the target is abandoned and no one gets hurt.
Vices: Yes. If going by cardinal sins... sloth? Gluttony? A sadomasochistic blend of lust and wrath? Nothing like purposefully picking fights to get the everloving crap beat out of you to feel something while simultaneously draining the life of your attacker with every bit of direct contact. How thrilling!
SEX & ROMANCE
Sexual orientation: Straight? Probably? Mostly.
Preferred emotional role: submissive | dominant | switch
Preferred sexual role: submissive | dominant | switch | Doesn’t care
Libido: Lowkey. It’s definitely there but he typically just ignores it.
Turn ons: Loves elegant women, the more confident and authoritative the better. Though anyone’s welcome to stab him 28 times in the torso, that’ll definitely get him excited.
Turn offs: Ppl who chew with their mouth open. Close ya damn mouth. Not very into wild hairstyles or extreme body mods. In that aspect he’s a bit like a boring old man.
Love language: He can and will devolve into a lovestruck puppy. He can be a bit clingy, but more than anything he is just... completely and utterly devoted. Very touchy feely, lots of traditionally ‘romantic’ gifts like flowers and whatnot. Or even just little reminders that he’s thinking of his SO, like a brief text or a little sticky note where she’ll see it. Just wants to be with them as much as possible, even if they’re just silently existing in the same room doing their own thing.
Relationship tendencies: Will brag about his SO to anyone who will listen (and even to those who won’t, you can’t stop him). Probably carries 50 pictures of his SO in his wallet and gets choked up just thinking about them. Will take her to restaurants and be like ‘we’re celebrating our anniversary’ any part of the year whether its their anniversary or not and when called out on it he’ll just be like ‘i’m always celebrating us’ and sappy nonsense like that. (though he also absolutely says it for the free desserts a lot of places give out to couples on their anniversary, but that’s just a bonus)
MISCELLANEOUS
Character’s theme song(s): Slaps this playlist down. I honestly can’t just pick one, buuut... I’m particularly liking Burning Alive lately, it’s very fitting for him.
Hobbies to pass time: Ogling cars, writing absurd Yelp reviews for anywhere and everywhere he goes, hoarding pigeons in his coat and offering them to unsuspecting strangers, heckling golfers, heckling comedians, engaging in fisticuffs with geese, going to chinese restaurants to crack open the fortune cookies and only eat the paper fortune inside, general people watching. likes watching movies in the theater. if anyone uses their phone while the movie is going he will snap the phone in half and eat as much of it as he can to prove a point
Mental illnesses: Uh. Well. I mean. Honestly? I have no idea. If you asked him he’d say he’s totally fine.
Physical illnesses: None. Often pretends to be injured or disabled one way or another if it’ll get him something he wants.
Left or right brained: He has 0 braincells
Fears: Heights, small dogs. Not afraid of dragonfruit but deeply offended by its existence as it is nothing but a flamboyant kiwi with no integrity to flavor. On a more serious note, intimacy of any sort with anyone or anything. Falling for someone knowing that he’ll outlive them anyway.
Self-confidence level: Oh it’s up there. Probably. He’s super confident, even if he doesn’t think he’ll succeed that doesn’t mean he won’t try. Unstoppable. Trust me, people have tried 2 stop him and nothing works.
Vulnerabilities: Genuine compliments from cute girls. Genuine compliments from just about anyone. Children. Baby animals. Cute things in general. Bad jokes. Literally any form of intimacy will make him want to aliven’t because he doesn’t deserve it and he might just up and run away in the middle of a conversation if it starts getting genuinely sappy.
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Seattle Street News 55, Crimes of Passion/Fashion
Runner News:
Our Favorite Runner Team On the Outs
Bad News for fans of one of our favorite runner teams. Sources tell me that MMFEC, who used to be on retainer for a certain charitable organization, is no longer on retainer for that organization. What happened? Some people say that it had to do with too much publicity after the Horizon Technomancer Kidnapping Scandal. Turns out having your faces all over CorpNews when you should be in the shadows is the definition of MM-FEC’ing it up. But look all you Fixers and Johnsons, SSN knows that MMFEC has done more in the shadows for the city than many of our other runner teams out there. And if you know what I’m talking about, then you know how valuable a team MMFEC is. Throw them some work!
City News:
Cybersnatcher Update…Looks like we have a Ripper!
Last issue of the SSN detailed a rash of attacks that indicated the possibility of a cybersnatcher on the loose in the Barrens. However, the SSN has gotten exclusive vid from a loyal tipster that indicates there might be a ripper on the loose. The feed we received was from an ATM camera across the street from the clinic Fragilé! not too far from the Body Mall. The footage [attached below] shows an Ork woman emerge from the alleyway next to the clinic wearing a long coat and rubbing her neck in pain. She enters the clinic and that is the last the ATM camera catches her. Our tipster provided us with video from inside the clinic where the ork woman enters and takes a seat in the waiting room. She kept rubbing her neck and seemed to draw within herself. She had been bouncing her knee like she was bored, but suddenly it seemed like her whole body began trembling. With no warning, the ork put her hand inside her deep coat pocket and froze. In a flash she leapt up and withdrew her hand from her pocket revealing a Butcher's Knife. She lunged to attack people, who were scrambling to leave, and that is where the camera feed cut off with only a warning from Knight Errant's Cyber Security division about tampering with evidence.
We have not been able to get any comments from Knight Errant about the incident other than some threatening questions about how we even know about it. Reporters have gone to the clinic, but it is shut up tight behind KE security. Why so much security for a back alley cyber clinic? Who is the ork woman? Above is a photo taken from the video. If anyone knows her, or knows anyone who was in the clinic at the time of the attack, contact the SSN!
Terminal Light—(by demmalition1)
It’s just past 4:30AM this morning, time to let these demons out to wreck havoc upon the slumbering Emerald City. They’re purring right now, waiting for their masters to slam their foot to the floor and let them roar to life with a furious anger. The nightlife in Seattle will never cease to amaze me. It truly won’t.
The crowds these events attract are some of the most eclectic people I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing. There have to be at least thirty people here gathering under the various banners of their respective corners of the city. There’s a gang of ghouls, orks, humans, a multiracial group, and even a clan of dwarves under the name of the V 0.8’s (a reference to the fact that they’re only 0.8 meters tall between them, which is short even for a dwarf).
Then you’ve got Apollo, he’s been racing for a little over three years as he tells it. His bright green ork skin is about to be caked in an orange powder before he gets into his souped up dragster. A dragster that he claims to have custom built from various parts “scavenged throughout the city,” his deep Tennessee accent reverberating through every last word. His assistants come up to him and take handfuls of powder, throwing them across his body. Wham. Wham. Wham. Each handful thrown harder than the last. His entire body is surrounded by an orange haze that glows slightly under the dim streetlight hanging above him. It crowns him like a god about to mount their chariot, wreathed in warpaint and flames, out to conquer the world. He enters his car and lights it up. Flames spew out the dual side-mounted exhausts, licking the sides of his chrome warbeast. The demon inside the hood roars to life as he does several donuts to warm up the tires and test the engine for faults. Once ready he takes his place alongside his other combatants. The chariot of fire and blood is ready to claim another championship. The countdown begins. Three... two... one...
And they’re off! The sound is deafening as the demonic hellscape begins to roar and reverberate throughout the quiet streets of the Seattle outskirts. They’re all racing towards the center of the metroplex many kilometers away from here, a journey that should take about half an hour to reach. As they fade into the distance and round the first corner marked in AR small vidscreens begin to pop up among the crowd. It’s a livefeed from every possible angle thanks to the nanocam systems hooked into each vehicle. You can hop from the hood of one car to the eyes of the second driver and see the rear bumper of the third car all in a flash. For those special members with a DNI Control Rig or other means of interfacing they can even passively jump into the cars themselves! Hearing the screech of the tires and feeling the weight of your own body shift as you round the next corner leaving your opponents in the dust is truly an exhilarating experience!
About fifteen minutes into the race the ghoul car takes a corner too tight and flips over itself several times. A trail of wreckage lies in its wake as a pile of twisted neon and metal create an amalgam of failure. A few freaks in the crowd even jump into the car as it flips and begin replaying the moment over and over, it’s as if reliving their own death makes them feel alive. The driver of the now desecrated beast of burden is alive, but his shins are broken in three places requiring a hospital visit. Foul play is called by his crew but is dismissed almost immediately by everyone there.
The final stretch is approaching, Apollo is in the lead, but only just as the elf, human, and dwarf drivers are hot on his tail. The sun is starting to creep up now turning the sky from its former pitch black to a soft hue of deep blues and purples. The racers know they don’t have much time left as the finish line draws near. The dwarf of the V 0.8’s pulls ahead, slamming his pedal to the floor in a great and furious anger. His demonic beast, however, is startled by this and over revs, causing a minor stall in the car and even busting a gasket, knocking him out of the race! The human driver’s car cannot keep up either as he is slowly left behind when they enter the cavernous twists and turns of the concrete jungle.
Now it’s just Apollo and the elf. Neck and neck. Racing against themselves and the rising sun which is now a blood red. The sky itself is seemingly burning in conflagration, setting the scene for a showdown of cataclysmic proportions. At the very last second Apollo deploys his nitrous boosters and pulls well ahead of the elf, setting a clear path to salvation!
And then it happens. Apollo crosses the finish line. His chariot of fire pulling the sun behind it like tales of old. The god of the Emerald City can claim his rightful throne. Victory! Victory at last!
Back at the starting line the crowd erupts in a great and uproarious cheer as Apollo exits his car. Libations are had and hands are shook. There is much talk about the race, some of the more chromed individuals among us replay Apollo’s victory to relive secondhand glory. But just as the excitement reaches its peak the jubilant crowd begins to fracture. The sun is almost up now, and each person heads off in their own individual directions to go sleep off the nightlife. The electricity in the air subsumes and the neon lights power down. The streetlights power down and give way to the great inferno in the sky. Some earlybird wageslaves can be seen commuting in their plainly colored rust buckets. Apollo, I’m told, is going to head to some upscale club downtown to celebrate his victory.
The sun is awake and has slain the nightlife of this city with a blinding light. The nightlife that writhed in ecstasy is now departed from this land to slumber. An entire culture rises to the surface and falls to the ground in the span of a few hours as the beat of the nightlife fades away. They’ll be back tonight, and I plan to see them again soon.
The day passes. The sun sets and shadows lengthen. Darkness spreads as pinpoints of light begin to dot the streets and spread down the line like a snake. It is dark now. Time to light up the night.
Aurora U-Storage On Fire…Again
You all know that storage warehouse in Aurora? The one where corp types and shadow denizens like to store things that they don’t want anyone else to know about? You know that warehouse with the utmost discretion? The one that was set on fire a few months ago in some sort of shadowrun related shenanigans? Yeah, well, that warehouse was set on fire again, quite mysteriously. On the plus side, Aurora U-Storage seems to have installed some impressive anti-arson upgrades to the warehouse. On the down side, runners keep targeting that place. I ask you all, is this really where you want to store your secret goods?
Entertainment News
Lightning Doesn’t Strike Twice, But Thunder Does!
In 2071 four orks found they all liked a fusion of garage metal and classical music, and the band Golden Dumpster Fire was born from that interest: Cellists Ford Arkash, and Barash Furysong, vocalist J'mee Thunder, and percussionist Thur Canaan. They spent two years playing small clubs before they got a paying job for a Mr Pendleton, who fronted for their first album, ghost dragon, which placed fifth on billboard for three months. They worked in studio for a year and brought out their second album, permanent vacation, which did better, but the clan wars brought the group to a standstill and “permanent vacation” became prophetic. Fans of the group clamored for more from the group for years, and it seemed that desire would never be fulfilled. Just another band with a lot of promise that fell to obscurity.
However, there is reason for Golden Dumpster Fire fans to rejoice! J'mee Thunder has returned with a self titled album, J’mee Thunder, and he plans to start his world tour in the Seattle Metroplex. And don’t tell anyone I told you, but rumor has it he’ll be doing a secret unplugged show just for fans the day before the big concert. Where will it be? Let me put it this way: it will be in the same club, where Arkash used his bow as a weapon to defend Thunder from an overzealous fan strung out on Bliss. Fans called this the Errol Flynn Incident. If you know where that happened, you know where the concert will be. Look out for it. Brought to you by the Crowne.
BeyonZ, Kappa, and Exploitation: The Case of Lawrence Stock
By now you’ve all seen the footage on Kappa. A small apartment living room. The Space Needle visible through the open window, far away in the background. Gray weather, the smell of rain coming to mind, instinctively, as if transmitted by the trid. The picture moved a meter to the right, focusing on a grave boyish face. The fluorescent blue hair, the outrageous makeup are those of none other than NeoNET’s famous host and entertainer, BeyonZ.
He turned to the middle-aged lady on his left and said with a look of concern, “Lily I mean Mrs. Stock... I may call you Lily, right?”
She answered the question thrown at her with a nod.
BeyonZ: “Lily, by now our viewers are probably familiar with your emotional plea on Kappa. Your husband Lawrence has been missing for a month, now. The last time you saw him, he was going on a tour…”
It is true, we have all seen the footage…the emotional plea. Lily Stock was clearly upset and Kappa new that was ratings gold.
The woman raised her head, slowly, a faint smile on her lips. The camera focused on her face, making sure all of her emotions were on display. The perfect makeup she wore contrasted with her tattered clothes, making her look like an extra on Horizon’s Les Miz ‘77.
Lily: “Yes, sir. He’s lead singer for Larry and the Red Gods. They’re a small indie band. All locals. Larry was so excited, that day. All smiles. Humming ‘Roses are red…’ He got a call. His friends were there. He gave me a peck on the cheek and the next instant I heard him running down the stairs. The elevator was broken. I went to the window, watched him greet his band mates. They were all set, with their cello and guitar cases strapped to their shoulders. They looked happy. Their driver must have shouted something, because at some point the five of them all turned their head toward a black van and climbed onto it.”
The video went back to BeyonZ who asked, “So, the black van left and you’ve not had any news since?”
Lily: “Well, he called me later in the afternoon. They were at the warehouse where their gig was taking place… Larry, if you hear me, call me, call us.”
The picture moved to the right, toward another room after hearing some dog barks in the background. The dog must have been there in the back, invisible.
Then Lily cried, “See, Larry? Skippy has been so sad since you left. And the children too. Oh, Larry, please, come back soon,” before breaking into uncontrollable sobbing. The lady buried her face in her hands.
When the picture moved back to BeyonZ, all of us who weren’t fooled by the corporate glitz, could see that he was trying to hide his glee. This is a story about a man who went missing, a man whose family wonders where he is. And how does Kappa’s BeyonZ respond to this tragedy? He turns and her and says, in front of all the world, “Lily, are you ready to face the truth? We have exclusive pictures of your husband with a young lady. We’ll be back after these commercials.” Of course, the dramatic music swelled as the camera zoomed in on a last glimpse of Mrs. Stock, looking at the camera, clearly taken aback.
Is this what viewers of corp media want? Exploitation of people’s pain? Larry and the Red Gods were a decent indie band (though my sources say that they ran in the shadows more than they played on stage, if you know what I mean), and his family seems to be in pain and need help rather than be put on display. This is a situation that should be taken care of by us. You denizens of the shadows, have you heard what happened to Larry and the Red Gods? Good or ill, Lilly Stock deserves to know. Send in your tips.
Features:
Once More 15--(by Breach)
If you’re reading this, you’re probably already familiar with the Corporate Court’s relaunch of the Wireless Matrix, an initiative headed by Danielle de la Mar. You may not know all the details, or the history, however - we’re not all Matrix-wired desk jockeys, after all - so I’ve decided to devote a bit of time to education in the regard.
On December 1, 2074, de la Mar announced the new Matrix protocols that would be rolled out over the next month, with a launch date of January 2075. On January 1, the new protocols came online, along with the new grids and a new Matrix. Three years in and it’s starting to feel normal, but our new Grid Overwatch Division overlords didn’t always have such a tight hand on the reins.
In the wake of Crash 2.0, distribution was the watchword - a travesty like the Crash should never be allowed again, and making sure there was no centralised network was the way to get there. The Wireless Matrix was born of desperation and need, built roughly and slapshot in an effort to get the world running again. While the Grid Overwatch Division existed, its authority was limited and the scope under which it could operate was small; there existed no overarching grids to monitor and every host and commlink was left on its own to negotiate the new Matrix.
It was a golden age for those that run the shadows.
Of course, de la Mar and GOD were able to spin this into a need for more control and more constraint; information was free, and the Corporations hate that. So new protocols were rolled out and all the old tricks and devices were cut off from the whole. Hackers had to find new tools to access the new systems (though GOD did make the mistake of asking some prominent hackers to test the new systems, so they didn’t fall too far behind), and hacking became far more serious a crime than it had before - punishable by death in many cases.
Instead of one big open playground, the new Matrix has been divided into grids - ten global grids operated by the ten Court Megacorporations, individual regional and national grids operated by various governments across the globe (like Seattle’s very own Emerald City grid, which many of you access this paper from), and even an eleventh official global grid, operated by charity and legacy and, much like the pre-de la Mar Matrix, open to everyone, though somewhat removed from the new protocols and systems. Operating on the public grid is a bit like decking through molasses - possible, but slow and unpleasant. I don’t recommend it for any serious Matrix work.
The new Matrix holds secrets that even GOD doesn’t fully understand, though. The Foundation - the ultraviolet, hyper-real underlayer that rests beneath every host and device in the new Matrix - is poorly understood, even by the architects that craft hosts from its essence. And then we have Technomancers that speak of Resonance Realms, similar in some ways to the Metaplanes Magicians speak of. Our new Matrix has brought us new frontiers to explore.
Frontiers that may be connected to next week’s topic, the new plague on everyone’s lips: CFD.
Questions about history? Ask Breach! [email protected]
Fashion News?
Crimes of Fashion or Good Samaritan?
Reports on the street are that people are getting spontaneous, and probably magical, fashion makeovers as they are walking down the street minding their own business. So it seems there is a good Samaritan turning people’s dreary togs to something more interesting. The only thing is…that the new togs seem to be very fashionable in cut and design, but somewhat...unconventional in color choice. Are these new clashing colors a sign of fashion to come or are they crimes of fashion? Or is this some sort of reality show that has yet to be announced? Have you been given a make-over? Contact the SSN and give us the info!
Seattle Street News is an independent activist news source released weekly on Tuesdays or Wednesdays
[Watch CorporateSINs on every Wednesday, 6pm PST or on Youtube at, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h11c7BLFQtc&list=PLHKocVDXoWBtzze1SGGUnU6KB5UFrDLFo]
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👩🏻🚒 Congrats on your masters!!
I’d like to request a soft blurb for “dropping hints that they’re in love, but the other doesn’t catch on until they’re pulled in for a kiss”
And I wanna give you a hug for Nala ♥️
The Thickest Skull
pairing: gn!reader x aaron hotchner
prompt: “dropping hints that they’re in love, but the other doesn’t catch on until they’re pulled in for a kiss”
contents: a singular idiot love gets kissed by the knowing idiot in love, one suggestive comment
an: hi katie, you’re so sweet, thank you sm! i’ll take all the hugs i can get. hope this request has come out to your liking, i made it gender neutral hope that’s okay <33
word count: 484
join my celebration here! 🔥
You aren’t really sure what else to do to get Aaron to realize that you have feelings for him. You feel like you’ve used every trick in the book besides jumping his bones. You and Aaron are neighbors, and had become friends when you bumped into each other one too many times while checking mailboxes. It’s impossible not to fall for him, not when his eyes hold so much sweetness and warmth.
When you say you’ve done it all, you’ve really done it all. You’ve baked him his favorite sweets, made him dinner, watched Jack a few times, you even made all the treats for Jack’s recent birthday party. You’ve flirted with him until you’re blue in the face and somehow it’s still not getting through what must be the thickest skull on the planet. He’s absolutely clueless.
When you wake up on a Saturday morning you know he’s home, you feel determined to get him to understand how you feel about him. You walk over to his apartment with cinnamon muffins, smiling widely when he opens up almost immediately.
“Want some company?” You hold up the container, shaking it.
His smile is just as wide as yours, “I’d love some.”
You make a beeline to his couch, turning on some random wildlife show as he makes the two of you coffee. You both talk about your week, make some comments on the animals passing on the screen, and munch on the muffins. It’s soft, domestic, feels completely and totally right. His company is so calm, there’s not a place you feel safer than on his couch, except maybe his arms.
“Jack away for the weekend?” You ask, taking a sip of your coffee.
“Just a Cub Scout day trip and spending the night at Haley’s. He’ll be back tomorrow morning.”
“Well I won’t stay too long so you can have some peace and quiet for once.”
“You can stay as long as you like, you know I enjoy your company.”
“So all weekend then?” You tease and his next smile is bashful, his cheeks the slightest shade of pink.
“You’ll get sick of me if you stay that long.”
Your plan wasn’t to be this straightforward but you’re leaning in to kiss him before you can stop yourself, your hand rising to run through his hair and cup his cheek. You can tell that he’s surprised by the way he jumps back just an inch before letting go and sinking into you.
“I could never get sick of you, Aaron,” You whisper as you pull away.
“I didn’t…I didn’t realize,” He pauses, searching for the right words.
“That I have a thing for you? Do you realize now?”
He answers by closing the space between you quickly, his lips crashing to yours. It causes you to fall back into the couch and you giggle into his mouth before kissing him back firmly. You’re taking that as a yes.
#katie 🦥#aaron hotchner x gn!reader#aaron hotchner x reader#arson’s dumpster fire celebration#celebration blurbs#replies
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👨🚒 with the prompt "resisting the urge to kiss forever, then muttering 'fuck it' before kissing each other" from this list
Congrats on the milestone and graduating!
Urge
pairing: gn!reader x aaron hotchner
prompt: resisting the urge to kiss forever, then muttering “fuck it” before kissing each other.
content: yearning idiots who try to resist each other, kissing
an: emmy, thank you!!! i hope this fulfills the request and that you enjoy it <3
word count: 384
join my celebration here! 🔥
You’ve lost track of how many times you’ve been here. Too many times your back has been flush against Hotch’s office door as he looms over you, the two of you resisting exactly what you want.
It’s wrong. It’s dangerous. Allowing yourself to come in here. Allowing him to press against you like this. Looking up into his eyes and letting them drift over his features. His lips. It’s not a good idea, but it’s what’s allowed. It keeps you two from actually doing anything about the invisible string that keeps bringing you together.
We won’t.
Those are the words that are always murmured in these moments. There’s a knock at his door and his eyes close, in disappointment or gratitude you’re not sure, and he isn’t either. Nonetheless, he moves to his desk, allowing you to compose yourself, say a rehearsed line like thank you or that clears it up, and open the door with a fake smile.
You resist time and time again after that until he almost dies right in front of you. It’s later that night, almost midnight and you’re standing on his doorstep after tossing and turning, waiting for him to answer.
He opens the door with a frown on his face. One of his hands finds your waist, the other comes up to cup your cheek, “What’s wrong, are you alright?”
“I just needed to see you, to make sure you were okay again after what happened today,” You murmur, fingers fisting in his worn t-shirt.
He just stares, intensely, like something new will materialize on your face. As if your eyes have the answer. He realizes they already do, they’re full of worry and a warm love he hasn’t known for years and his cares melt away. The fuck it tumbles from his lips softly and before you can process what’s happening he’s kissing you, mouth firm and wet. His kiss drains you of the adrenaline that’s been keeping you up, replacing it with a sense of peace.
“That was long overdue,” You breathe once the kiss breaks, though you keep your body against his.
“I don’t want to resist anymore.”
“Me either,” You agree, treating him to a quick kiss that he chases after.
“Come inside?” He asks, his voice hopeful.
“I thought you’d never ask.”
#emmy 🐘#aaron hotchner x gn!reader#aaron hotchner x reader#arson’s dumpster fire celebration#celebration blurbs#replies
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hello!!! me again!!!! can i get a hotch blurb (i dont remember the emoji oops absnnfndnmfmn) for either (whichever one you want, idk if you already gotten these sent in :3)
"[ DISCUSSION ] for our muses to talk about kinks and figure out their boundaries together." or "[ WATCH ] for muses to cuddle on a couch while watching tv and one of them begins to finger the other but stops every time they make too much noise." or "[ SIT ] for one muse to finger the other who sits in their lap fully clothed, keeping an arm around their waist to make them stay still."
thanksss!!!
Tease
pairing: fem!reader x aaron hotchner
prompt: [ DISCUSSION ] for our muses to talk about kinks and figure out their boundaries together." and "[ WATCH ] for muses to cuddle on a couch while watching tv and one of them begins to finger the other but stops every time they make too much noise."
content: 18+/nsfw/MINORS DNI, teasing, fingering
an: jesssss my absolute love, thanks for sending in a bunch of stuff. i tried, i hope you enjoy this blurb <333
word count: 582
join my celebration here! 🔥
“Something on your mind, sweetheart?” Aaron asks as the two of you get ready for the day, you brushing your teeth, him washing his face.
“Hmm?” You hum, break out of your anxious thoughts, and finish brushing your teeth.
“You’re distracted. Are you okay?” He moves towards you, pulling you flush to him by your hips.
“I was just thinking.”
“I gathered that. What about?” He looks down at you, and you shift nervously under the intensity of his gaze. “Its alright, you know you can talk to me about anything?”
“I know I just…you know how we were talking about things that we wanted to do together?” He nods. “Well, I was thinking that I want you to tease me, like we talked about? If you’re still okay with it?” You ask softly, burying your face into his chest. You aren’t sure why you’re so embarrassed, your face warm and pulse racing.
You hear and feel the chuckle that rumbles in his chest before he cups your face, forcing you to look at him again, “Yes, I’m still okay with trying it.”
“Today?”
He bends down to kiss you, stopping just before his lips brush yours as he maintains eye contact. His voice is a whisper that tickles down your spine and makes your insides clench, “I can do that for you.”
The two of you go about your day, Aaron has the day off for once and Jack is at Hershey’s park with Haley and Jessica. After spending the day organizing and cleaning the apartment, the two of you end up on the couch watching a documentary on the Smithsonian while you wait for your takeout.
You hardly pay attention at first, thinking he’s just feeling cuddly. His hand runs up and down you arm before he gropes at your breast not once but twice. You push back into him as an invitation and his hand trails down your thigh, squeezing and kneading. After a few moments, his fingers are under your waist band teasing at your clit. He toys with you, just like you asked until you reach back and squeeze his thigh. He gets the message and sinks two of his fingers into you, pulling a moan from your throat.
“I can’t hear, sweetheart,” He slows his tempo, his voice cool and calm as if he’s not fingering you on the sofa.
You glance back at him, eyes wide as he continues to fuck you with his fingers. You nod in understanding and bite your lip trying to keep yourself quiet but just a few minutes later you let out an even louder moan.
“Hush, baby, I’m listening to the documentary.”
“Aaron,”
“I’ll stop if you keep it up,” His voice is soft but still laced with admonishment.
“No, no, I’ll be quiet,” You whine and you can feel his smile as he leans forward to kiss the back of your neck.
And you try your hardest to be, locking your fingers into the arm of the soft as he continues to thrust his fingers into you over and over. Your orgasm builds steadily and your breath catches in your throat as it washes over you, hips bucking against his hand as you clench around his fingers.
“Good girl, cumming so quietly for me,” He praises as he removes his fingers from you, placing them on your lips. You suck dutifully, tasting yourself before kissing the tip of his fingers.
“Do I get to tease you now?”
“Be my guest.”
#my jess 🪅#fem!reader x aaron hotchner#female reader x aaron hotchner#reader x aaron hotchner#arson’s dumpster fire celebration#not sfw#celebration blurbs#replies
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Okay here we go babes round 2, let’s see if this works? Loving u always and congratulations on ur big juicy Master’s degree I can’t think of anyone who deserves all the good things more!!
🧑🚒 tracing their finger over their lover’s tattoos/scars,
Trust
pairing: gn!reader x aaron hotchner
prompt: tracing their finger over their lover’s tattoos/scars
contents: making out, mention of canon-compliant assault, body insecurity, scars
an: hi my darling wife, i hope you enjoy this and i love you so so much <3
word count: 606
join my celebration here! 🔥
This is the first time it’s ever gotten this steamy. It’s your first time in his bed, the first time he’s let you kiss him this long. The first time he’s ever let your hands roam like this. You’re sitting in his lap and he’s propped against the headboard. One of your hands must travel out of acceptable territory when it begins to slide under his shirt because his hand comes to hold it in place. It’s a gentle redirect, he doesn’t want to hurt your feelings. He laces his fingers through yours as he smiles into your mouth before pulling away.
“Sorry, got a little carried away there,” You apologize, ducking your head.
“Don’t apologize, it’s alright. I want to go there with you, I do,” He reassures you, both hands cupping your face.
“Do you want to…talk about why you’re hesitant to?” His eyes fall to the space in between you and your hands come to rest over his, “You can tell me anything. You can trust me, I care about you so deeply, Aaron.”
“I care about you, too,” He hesitates for a moment and you lean in to rest your head on his chest, squeezing him in encouragement. He pulls in a deep breath and lets it out, “A few years ago I was assaulted in my apartment by an unsub. As a result, there’s some scarring, the one on my arm is just the beginning.”
“Aaron, I’m so sorry.”
“I’ve worked through a lot of it, I wouldn’t have started this with you if I hadn’t.”
“Maybe we could work through this together,” You offer, hovering your hand over the hem of his shirt.
His eyebrows knit together as he gives it some thought, wondering if he’s ready for this step. Finally, he gives a short nod, “I’m open to that.”
“We can leave your shirt on, I’ll just feel?” You look down at your hand and then back up at him for confirmation. His eyes are cautious but he nods once more, and then your fingers are underneath his shirt.
His scars are more raised than you anticipated and smoother than the rest of his skin. You use your other hand to keep his shirt down, your eyes watching your exploring hand under the fabric. His eyes are hooded as he watches your expression, how it’s soft, almost full of wonder, and something else he quite can’t place. His breathing hitches when you move further up his torso.
“Relax baby,” You murmur as you continue to trace his scars. Once your fingers climb his chest and make their way back down you withdraw your hand and lean in to give a kiss on the top of his nose. “How was that?”
“It was okay. I think we should keep doing it in the future.”
You take his ‘in the future’ as an indicator that today has been enough, “As long as you’re comfortable and feel safe.”
“I trust you,” He says firmly.
The smile that breaks across your face is worth all of the anxiety this conversation has given him, though he feels like he managed it well.
You move forward to treat him to a soft kiss, “Did you still want dessert? We kind of got sidetracked.”
“I’d love dessert.”
“Think you have everything for brownies?” The way his mouth twists in doubt is your answer. “Grocery store time!” You hop out of the bed, running out of his bedroom turning right towards the foyer.
Aaron lays in bed just a moment, thinking about how lucky he is to have bumped into you at the park all those months ago.
#amber my wife my life 👺#aaron hotchner x gn!reader#gn!reader x aaron hotchner#arson’s dumpster fire celebration#celebration blurbs#replies
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I will physically not go on until I receive a blurb of Hotch coming to help when a tree falls on ur car, bonus points if he’s panicked even though ur fine
Worry
pairing: gn!reader x aaron hotchner
request/prompt: I will physically not go on until I receive a blurb of Hotch coming to help when a tree falls on ur car, bonus points if he’s panicked even though ur fine
contents: panic/worry, fallen tree, car damage, fluff, kissing
an: you are now able to physically go on, love u wife
word count: 499
join my celebration here! 🔥
You’re inside, working from home when you hear what sounds like a large crack and then a crash. You aren’t able to tell if it’s close or not, but then you get the notification on your phone: motion at your front door.
You don’t look at your phone but immediately rush to the front window, completely shocked at what’s outside. The large tree in your front yard has fallen over, taking it’s resting place on top of your car. For a moment, all you can do is stare your body going into freeze as your thoughts fly a mile a minute.
Aaron. You need to call him.
He picks up immediately, “Hi, sweetheart, everything okay?”
“Tell me you're still in the office.”
“I’m…still in the office. What's wrong?”
“A tree fell on my car?” You're still in shock, so it comes out of your mouth like a question.
“Stay inside, I’m on my way home.”
It's not hard to follow his request because once you hang up you sink into the sofa which has a clear view of the driveway. A clear view of the tree that's just destroyed your car. If it was going to happen to anyone of course it would happen to you. You're so lost in your thoughts that you don't notice when Aaron flies up to the house, tires screeching as he puts it in park. He’s in the house and by your side in seconds.
His panic is what ends up snapping you out of your own.
“Are you okay? Were you in the car?” His hands are all over you to feel for any injury as his eyes sweep over you once, twice, thrice.
“I’m fine, I’m okay.”
“Are you sure? Come here,” He says it like he isn’t already giving you his 5th look over.
“I’m fine, Aaron. I am,” You reassure, melding the palm of his hand to your cheek as you look at him.
His eyes meet yours and his anxiety melts. He lets out a deep breath and pulls you into a hug, pressing a kiss to your forehead.
“You’re fine,” He repeats to himself and you smile, rubbing your hands up and down his back.
“I called you mostly to handle the insurance stuff, it sounds daunting.”
“Of course I can handle that for you. Don’t worry about it, I’ll get everything squared away.”
“Thank you baby,” You squeeze him tight, glancing up at him.
“A thank you isn’t necessary but you’re welcome,” He closes the gap between you, capturing your lips with his. There aren’t many things that compare to a kiss from Aaron, but any lingering traces of worry dissipate as he kisses you long and deep.
He releases you and heads into his office where he spends the rest of the day arguing with your insurance company. Somehow he gets you a luxury rental until your car is fixed though it’s not covered in your plan. It doesn’t surprise you that he exceeds expectations.
#loml allison✨#aaron hotchner x gn!reader#gn!reader x aaron hotchner#arson’s dumpster fire celebration#celebration blurbs#replies
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hi my love, here again for 🧑🚒 : helping their lover out of their clothes and into their pajamas/washing off makeup and taking their hair down after a night of drinking. gn/fem either works :)
<333 thank you bestie love you 😚
Content
pairing: gn!reader (but reader wears a ponytail) x law school!aaron hotchner
prompt: helping their lover out of their clothes and into their pajamas/washing off makeup and taking their hair down after a night of drinking
contents: just a shit ton of fluff, love confessions, alcohol mention
an: megggggg, i can’t say how much i love you bc the words don’t exist, thank you for supporting me in everything <33
word count: 600ish
join my celebration here! 🔥
Aaron’s staying late at the library, pouring over a case study when he gets a call from you. He knows that you were going out tonight, he’d been checking in on you periodically.
“Hi angel, you alright?”
“Yes, I just, um, can you come get me?” Your words are slurred but you sound happy, excited even.
“Of course,” He immediately starts to back up his things. You’d already sent him the address of the bar as a safety precaution. “Are you safe?”
“Yes, baby, I’m just tired and drunk and miss you.”
“I miss you, too. I’ll be there soon.”
Aaron parks on the street across from the bar, spotting you as he gets out of his jeep. Your friend, Ollie has his arm around your waist and the two of you lean against the brick wall of the building. Your eyes are closed but your lips are upturned in a smile. Ollie sees him first, nudges you and whispers something into your ear. Your eyes immediately open, and you plant a kiss on his cheek before running to Aaron.
You’re not very coordinated given your intoxication and he starts to jog himself, catching you when you stumble, “Not a good idea to run while drunk, yeah?”
You grin up at him before giving him a peck on the lips, “Yeah, not a good idea but I told you, I missed you.”
“Well let’s get home and you won’t have to miss me anymore.” He wraps his arm around you, waving to Ollie before guiding you to the car.
The drive to his apartment is short, and he keeps the windows down on this warm summer night. He glances over at you, his chest swelling with adoration as he watches you lift your face to the wind. Once at his apartment, you’re quiet, feeling content as he helps you up the stairs.
“Shower?” He asks once inside.
“No, bed, please,” You reply as he leads you into the kitchen. You lean up against the counter as he fills a glass with water.
“Alright, drink up for me first, please.”
You follow his instructions and once done you let him lead you into his bathroom. He sits you down on the toilet, and finds the toiletries bag you leave at his apartment. Delicately he gets your hair out of the ponytail that you’d put it in, taking out the bobby-pins as well. He moves on to washing your face, his moments slow, unhurried as he gets your face nice and soapy before wiping it clean with a fresh towel. When you’re nice and dry he applies your moisturizer then leans in, treating you to a sweet kiss that you readily return. He couldn’t help himself, you look so soft as he takes care of you, and soon he’s taking you into his bedroom.
“I love you,” You sigh as you fall back into the bed when he sits you down.
Aaron, who’s turned to open your designated drawer to find your pajamas freezes in his tracks. It’s the first time you’ve ever said that to him and when turns around to say it back to you, you’re already sleeping. He smiles to himself as he gets you dressed in your pajamas, and afterwards he gets dressed in his own. Returning to the kitchen, he fills up another glass of water and stops by the medicine cabinet for some ibuprofen and sets them on the bedside table.
“I love you, too,” He murmurs into your hair once he gets settled in bed with you. He’ll make sure to tell you again in the morning.
#light of my life meg 🌻#aaron hotchner x gn!reader#aaron hotchner x reader#arson’s dumpster fire celebration#celebration blurbs#replies
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Omg Alex!! I am so proud of you for accomplishing so much and getting through so much, I know it hasn't been easy but you're working towards your dream and I couldn't be prouder 💙
👨🚒 I wasn't going to request a blurb but then I was grabbed by the [ TENSION ] nsfw prompt so here we are 😘
A Fuss
pairing: yearning!fem!reader x yearning!aaron hotchner
prompt: [ TENSION ] one muse is patching up the other’s injuries which leads to intense eye contact, lingering touches and them finally crashing their lips against each other’s.
content: 18+/nsfw/minors DNI, fingering
an: bj my dear, thanks for sending this in! i hope it lives up to what you were imagining when the prompt drew you in. it’s a little out of character but they’ve been yearning for each other for a while in my head.
word count: 579
join my celebration here! 🔥
It was embarrassing to say the least, you falling while the team was on a hike together on a coveted weekend in the woods. Everyone makes a fuss, agreeing to head back to the cabin. Morgan even carries you all the way back. Secretly you’re grateful he does, your knee is throbbing and bleeding quite a bit, staining your grey leggings.
When you all get back, you immediately swipe the first aid kit and hobble to your room to patch yourself up in peace. Garcia tries to follow but you shoo away, insisting that you’re fine. You’ve just worked yourself out of your leggings when there’s a knock at your door.
You reach for your blanket, draping it over your thighs, “I’m fine, really Garcia.”
“It’s…not Garcia. Do you mind if I come in?”
Your fingers tighten around the blanket at the sound of Hotch’s voice, “Sure.”
If you want anyone to worry about you, it’s him. Being madly in love with your boss isn’t ideal, unless he’s coming to your room while you’re half naked to make sure you’re okay.
He comes in gracefully, shutting the door behind him. He kneels in front of you, eyes meeting yours, “Can I help you patch up?”
All you can do is nod, and both of you reach for the first aid kit, fingers brushing. He gently takes your hand and rests on your knee before he takes out some antiseptic and bandaid. He’s incredibly careful as he patches you up, his hands lingering much longer than needed over your skin. He looks up at you again to check on you and you feel it building, the innate need to his mouth on yours. To cut through the tension that’s so thick you feel as though your lungs are empty.
“Thank you,” You run your hand over his, and his fingers start to interlace with yours as he surges up to press his lips to yours. His mouth is hungry and frantic against yours and you fall back into the bed with him on top of you.
“Let me take your mind off the pain.”
“Yes,” Your hands fall between the two of you to push the blanket out of the way, baring your panties to him.
“God, you’re so soft,” He murmurs against the skin of neck, nipping and sucking. His hands are simultaneously soft and heavy, caressing every inch of you before they slip into your panties to rub your clit.
“Hotch,” You gasp, hands flying up to grab at his shoulders.
“Aaron,” He corrects before his mouth finds yours again. He’s amazing with his hands, the pleasure in you increasing exponentially as he continues to rub your clit. You mewl and buck against him, your head falling back against the pillow when he sinks not one but two fingers inside of you.
“Fuck, Aaron, please.”
“You’re close aren’t you? I can feel it, I can feel you.”
You nod feverishly, looking up at him with your mouth agape. There's a soft smile on his face, it's almost smug as he increases the pressure on your clit and the speed of his thrusts. It takes no time at all for you to tumble into your orgasm and he showers your face with kisses as you come down.
Once your breathing is back to normal he runs his nose against yours, “How’s your knee?”
“I’m so not worried about my knee,” You grin, leaning in to kiss him once more.
#thank u for sending this in i love uuuu#bj 🖖🏻#fem!reader x aaron hotchner#arson’s dumpster fire celebration#celebration blurbs#not sfw#replies
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Congratulations on your masters and 1.5!!! 🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉
And r.i.p. to your sweet pup, sending lots of love and hugs to you 💖💖
I'd like request a blurb with this >> kissing each other to prove there’s nothing there, accidentally proving that there was, in fact, something there.
I think it's such a funny concept especially with a hard-on-the-outside kind of man like Aaron, like hkm having that oh shit moment. And the team would not let them leave it down EVER hehehe
Also, if you do write this, do it however you feel like it, whether you do the moment of the kiss or the aftermath or anyway you want to write it is cool by me. 💖
Just a Second
pairing: gn!reader x aaron hotchner
prompt: kissing each other to prove there’s nothing there, accidentally proving that there was, in fact, something there.
contents: idiots in love, kissing
an: wasn’t sure of your pronouns anon so i kept it gender neutral! this is a little ooc for hotch but i like to think it’s his brain subconsciously doing anything for reader bc he’s an unknowing simp <3
word count: 478
join my celebration here! 🔥
“You know I think it’s ridiculous that they all think we have a…thing,” It’s your sad attempt at conversation and you immediately feel awkward, though he can’t tell from how you look him directly in the eye.
You and Hotch are standing on the sidelines of the dance floor of Will and JJ’s reception. Everyone looks happy, twirling and laughing under the twinkling lights and pale moon.
“We don’t have to talk about it,” He insists, pushing his hands into his pockets.
“But we should, right? We should prove them wrong.”
“We don’t have anything to prove to them.”
“So you’re just okay with them teasing us for…the rest of our careers?”
“I wouldn’t say that I’m okay with it, but working with them…teasing’s a hazard of the job,” He shrugs, truly looking like he’s fine with it.
You roll your eyes at him before grabbing his hand and leading him back into Rossi’s kitchen.
“What has gotten into you?” He looks at you as if you’ve grown two heads.
“I think we should kiss.”
Now he’s glaring at you, “We’re not going to kiss.”
“We could tell them that we kissed and that we felt nothing.”
“That sounds ridiculous.”
“It sounds like a plan that would work. We present them with evidence from an in vivo experience and they won’t be able to deny it,” He continues to glare at you but you can almost hear the gears turning in his head. “Come on, please? I’m tired of hearing about it.”
“Once. For just a second.”
“It has to be more than a second, I’m not kissing you like I used to kiss my grandma.”
“Alright.”
You’re a little awkward moving closer to him, all of sudden feeling shy. You are about to kiss your boss, but he seems even keel, taking you by the waist and pulling you close. He’s the one to initiate, his lips meeting yours in a soft, gentle kiss. It only lasts a few moments but it makes your heart skip a beat, and when he breaks away his eyes are just as wide as yours.
“Oh,” Is all you’re allowed to say before he’s pulling you in for more, his grip on your hips tightening. You kiss him back feverishly, hands moving up his body and into his hair which causes him to groan. You grin against his lips, pulling away to look at him.
“So they were right,” He murmurs, his hand rubbing up and down your back.
“As usual,” Emily’s voice startled both of you as you fly apart.
“I- we-“ You sputter.
“Did exactly what we said you would do, yeah,” Penelope grins, but she looks more happy than smug.
“You’re never living this down,” JJ chimes in.
“I think I’m okay with that,” Hotch spins you around, bringing you close as he plants a kiss on your cheek.
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I love you bestie!! Congrats on 1.5k, I was wondering for the blurbs could you do the Close prompt? I love the idea of lotus position with Hotch
A Rando’s Bedroom
pairing: fem!reader x college!aaron hotchner
prompt: [ CLOSE ] our muses have sex in lotus position, clinging to each other desperately.
content: 18+/nsfw/minors DNI, unprotected sex, love confessions
an: hi emily, thank you!!!! giving you some college hotch bc i absolutely adore him and you <3
word count: 308
join my celebration here! 🔥
“Aaron, I can’t believe we’re doing this in some rando’s bedroom,” You’re spread open with him deep inside you, the music from the party downstairs thrumming through the entire house.
“Apparently I’m not doing it very well if you still have the mind to care. Come here,” He effectively sits down and pulls you into his lap, all while staying inside of you. You gasp sharply at the feeling of him reaching deeper into you, filling you to the brim. “Better?”
You circle your arms around his neck, bucking your hips against him, “Mmm, yeah, better.”
One of his hands gathers your hair into a makeshift ponytail, pulling you in for deep, messy kisses. His other hand is on the curve of your ass, encouraging you to move your hips and bounce on his cock. It’s hard for him to thrust into you from the positions but when you come down you feel him rock his hips forward.
“You’re so good,” He murmurs before kissing you again, licking into your mouth with fervor.
You match him, trying to consume him as you move closer and closer to your release. Breaking the kiss to breathe, your hands find his hair, anchoring yourself to him as he stares up at mouth agape. You get lost in each other, the music and other noise from the party fading into the background. Your attention is only for him and vice versa. There’s nothing but him: the smell of him, the taste, the sight, the feel.
The words feel like they’re about to burst out of him as he continues to look into your eyes but you beat him to it, “I love you, Aaron.”
“I love you too,” His voice is firm, as unwavering as the pace you two have set.
And you no longer care about where you are, because you’re with him.
#wuv uuuuu#emily 🌒#aaron hotchner x fem! reader#arson’s dumpster fire celebration#not sfw#celebration blurbs#replies
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first time request was me hehe🦦
Unprecedented
pairing: virgin!reader x virgin!college!aaron hotchner
request/prompt: reader having her first time with him
content: 18+/nsfw/MINORS DNI, two adorable lovers having their first time, fingering, protected sex, fluff
an: hiiii, hope this lives up to your expectations! i did a little twist on it bc i wanted to write virgin hotch too.
word count: 637
join my celebration here! 🔥
Aaron’s done a lot of research for this moment. He wanted to make sure that he’s prepared to give you the best experience of your life, even if it’s his first time too. He’s been gentle and unhurried as he kisses you and opens you up with his fingers. It was recommended in the research and with how fast you spiral into your first orgasm, he knows that it’s something he wants to keep doing.
You do too.
He bends to kiss you once you come down from that orgasm, “We can stop here, try again later if you want. I don’t want to overstimulate you.”
“That’s a thing?”
“It is. Some people like it.”
“Why don’t we find out if I like it?” You ask cheekily and it makes him laugh before he looks down at you with caring eyes.
“Are you sure?”
“I’m ready if you are. I want this with you, Aaron,” You prop up on one elbow to run your nose against his.
“I want this with you too,” He breathes, crushing his lips to yours again.
You’re all over each other, groping and caressing the other until one of his finds its way between your legs again. You jump at the touch, understanding immediately what he meant by overstimulation. Your reaction makes you giggle, which in turn has him giggling as well.
“Maybe we should wait,” He presses his lips to yours through his chuckles but you shake your head, wrapping your arms around his torso.
“I’m ready, I want you. I need you,” The desperation in your voice gets him, and he reaches over you to his bedside table to get a condom.
Nestling in between your legs, his eyes search yours for any hesitance, “I brought lube, sometimes it’s helpful to-“
You grab his hand, bringing it to glide through your folds once more, “I think I’m wet enough, don’t you?” When he doesn’t answer, his eyes focused on your wet pussy you bring his fingers up to your mouth, sucking on them gently.
The action snaps him out of his trance because then he’s kissing your hard and pressing every inch of his skin against yours. You kiss him back greedily, your hand shaking between your bodies to line the head of his cock up with your entrance. He groans into your mouth as he presses into you, and you gasp at the strange feeling of being stretched so deeply. He breaks the kiss, resting his forehead against yours as he pulls out fully before thrusting back into you. He tries to stay focused not only on how tight and warm you are around him, but on how hard he thrusts into you. He doesn’t want to hurt you.
“Aaron,” You pant, tilting your hips up to meet his.
“Are you okay?” He looks down at you, eyebrows bunched with concern.
“I’m perfect, you feel so good.”
“You do too, baby.”
The two of you chase your highs together, your hands roaming all over his body. His mouth is back on yours, kissing hungry and deep as he slams into you over and over. He settles on his knees, keeping his weight on you; the shift on his position causes his pelvic bones to brush against your clit with each thrust. It takes no time for you to fall apart and when you squeeze him tight, he joins you, spilling into the condom.
“That was…”
He finishes your sentence with, “Incredible.”
“Mmm,” You hum in agreement, running your hand through his hair affectionately. “Shower?”
“As long as you don’t jump my bones,” He teases.
“I don’t think we’re experienced enough to not fall on our asses in the shower.”
“But we’ll get there,” He says with a smirk before hopping out of the bed and heading into the bathroom.
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