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#hotchner is so fucking hot
hotchbabygirl · 17 days
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Looking handsome and hot while sitting in the Sex Red Chair. 🔥
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softhairedhotch · 6 months
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not saying that will lamontagne isn't kinda hot or anything but C'MON how is emily gonna be like "at least we have something fun to look at ;)" and talk about how he's fine (although i assume it's to rile jj up a bit) YET NO ONE EVER SAYS ANYTHING ABOUT HOTCH???? LIKE HOW??? HE'S LITERALLY STUNNING AND BEAUTIFUL AND SOO SO HOT WHAT ON EARTH HOW IS EVERYONE ELSE GETTING HIT ON BUT NEVER AARON FUCKIN HOTCHNER???
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birdclowns · 1 year
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head empty. no thoughts. only a friend and i's au hotch 🪓🪓
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supercriminalbean · 1 year
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His grin,his laugh but holy fuck HIS NECK 😍🥵🥵
I wanna suck on his neck so badly
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ssaaaronmontgomery · 11 months
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The things I want to do to Aaron Hotchner are not sane and I never claimed that they were.
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ihavemanyhusbands · 1 year
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Thinking of Hotch saying “Mami” or “Mi amor” 🥴🥴🥴
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birbsbetty · 6 months
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JJ is definitely my favorite character on criminal minds. She is so smart and badass, I’m so glad they made her part of the team. She was totally undervalued as the liaison. Not to mention she’s also so hot?!!!!! She has the best fight scenes, and all of her episodes are the best because she brings in so many things to the team and Aj Cook is such an amazing actor. I feel like JJ is a super underrated character too, like everybody loves hotch and spence but JJ deserves some attention!!!
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polo hotch polo hotch polo hotch polo hotch polo hotch polo hotchpolo hotch polo hotch polo hotchpolo hotch polo hotch polo hotchpolo hotch polo hotch polo hotchpolo hotch polo hotch polo hotchpolo hotch polo hotch polo hotch
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imjust-a-funnysimp · 1 year
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Hotch smirking with a polo shirt in the congressman episode. That's it.
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softhairedhotch · 6 months
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ughhh found this edit i made and never posted (why??) of beard hotch <333
HE'S SO HOT
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wolf-knights · 2 years
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Just going to put it out there but both hotch brothers are fucking hot! Like no joke
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chvoswxtch · 5 months
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A fic where reader likes Aaron but is like 20 years younger than him (I checked the math, even at the start of the show, he was 43 so that wouldn't have been weird. Unless u find that weird? Pretend i said 10 years if that weirds u out) and she thinks she doesn't have a chance with him and that he wouldn't even consider her. And so she just pines over him with the unrequited crush blues. Maybe hotch seems to "baby" her and be extra protective of her so she chalks it up to being the baby of the team. Meanwhile he does not view her as a baby. At all. And maybe he doesn't even realize he treats her any different. Angst welcome! Definitely romance
She/her pronouns for the fic if u want to do it please 🙏 and thank u 😁
– Zee
MY DARLING ZEE
I have been SO excited to post this one, so thank you for requesting it. as usual, I got carried away, but it's daddy hotch so I apologize for nothing
enjoy ;)
warnings: swearing, lots and lots of angst word count: 4.5k
baby.
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Furious didn’t even begin to cover the way you felt currently. The entire cabin of the jet was thick with tension radiating from your barely concealed rage, and for a split second you felt guilty, because the team’s discomfort was more than palpable. But as your gaze wandered to the opposite end of the jet and you caught sight of the culprit of your vexation, brooding heavily in your direction, any sliver of remorse evaporated from your pores and your eyes instantly hardened in response.
Fucking Aaron Hotchner.
Hotch’s thick dark brows were pinched together, creating a crease of annoyance right between them, and his lips were pressed in a line that was harsher than usual, causing his frown lines to settle even deeper into the skin around his mouth. His deep umber eyes were void of any warmth, and there was no evidence of faint mirth creasing around them. Instead his lethal gaze was cold as steel, and as rigorous as stone.
You had seen a more intense version of that look several times before whenever he interviewed unsubs that made monsters look like fairytales, and normally it sent a chill down your spine. Not because you were scared of your boss; quite the opposite actually. Every time you watched him stare down the worst of humanity with an aura of disinterest and a hard glare that showed he was completely unimpressed, you found yourself more and more attracted to him. Especially on the rare occasions when he lost his temper and ended up slamming his hands on the table while yelling in their face. You found that incredibly hot. 
From the day you met Hotch for your interview, you had found him attractive. Intimidating as hell, but attractive. The fact that he was your boss didn’t deter you from developing a little crush on him, or the fact that he was a widower with a six year old son. None of that stopped the butterflies that swarmed in your stomach every time he gave you a tiny bit of praise in the form of a “good job”, or a simple nod of approval. In fact, the more Hotch warmed up to you, the worse your little crush got.
You found yourself grinning whenever someone made him crack the tiniest of smiles, and nothing fueled your ego more than his quiet snort whenever you said something he seemed to find funny. Hotch surprisingly had a great sense of humor when the stress of being the unit chief of the B.A.U. wasn’t looming over his head. He could be stubborn and closed off sometimes, and he wasn’t always the best with words, but you could tell by his actions that he truly cared about his team. Unfortunately for you, his treatment revealed exactly how he saw you. 
The baby of the team. 
It was no secret that’s how the rest of the team saw you too. Derek had been teasingly, but affectionately, referring to you as “Baby Spice” since your first day because you were by far the youngest member of the team and beyond feisty. Spencer even joined in with the nicknames, jokingly calling you “kid” with a proud grin now that he was no longer the youngest, even though there was less than a five year gap between the two of you, which Rossi constantly reminded him of with a smack to the back of his head. At a certain point you realized that Rossi just enjoyed messing with Spencer, but you still grinned at him in appreciation every time he came to your defense.
Even though you were far from being a child, Hotch still treated you differently than the others, which did not go unnoticed by anyone. He was far more protective of you, not allowing you to go anywhere alone when the team was working a case, and he hardly ever wanted you in the interrogation room with unsubs. Only after Emily backed you up, insisting it was important to your training, did he finally allow you to interrogate. But it was under the strict condition that he was always the one in the room with you. He never allowed you to enter a crime scene or a suspected location of an unsub first, and the first time you got injured while on a case, resulting in the tiniest of a cut above your eyebrow, Hotch forced you to take a leave of absence for two weeks.
You made it three days before you burst into his office and demanded that he end your leave.
He didn’t.
Because of the way Hotch seemed to “baby” you, it resulted in the rest of the team doing it too. Emily and JJ weren’t as bad about it, but they definitely put themselves in front of you anytime a situation got dangerous. Derek and Hotch were by far the worst and the most obvious about being overprotective, but Spencer and Rossi weren’t far behind. The only one that ever treated you as an equal was Garcia, and that’s why she was your favorite.
And the only one you confided in about your little crush on your boss. Although, you were sure Emily and JJ had caught on by now. They always flashed you a teasing smirk and a little wink anytime they caught you silently pining.
But that was what seemed to solidify that you would never have a chance with Hotch. Not that he was your boss, or that he had traumatically lost his wife, or that he had a young son, or even the fact that he was a good twenty years older than you. It was that he seemed to view you more as a helpless child than a capable woman.
As soon as the jet landed, you were the first one off. You could hear Hotch’s shoes stomping along the floor of Headquarters right on your heels. While you stopped at your desk to drop off your go bag, fully prepared to get your shit and leave, his angry march continued up the stairs towards his office, but he never once took his irritated glare away from your figure.
“Y/L/N, my office. Now.”
Gritting your teeth hard, you turned your head to shoot daggers in his direction, but he had already disappeared into his office. Disregarding the sympathetic concern from your coworkers, you furiously made your way up the stairs and made a dramatic show of slamming the door to Hotch’s office forcefully behind yourself, which in turn made his eyes narrow into vehement slits as he looked at you. He straightened his back, squaring his shoulders while he stepped around his desk to stand a few feet away from you. He looked absolutely pissed, but you were too lost in your own rage to care.
“You were completely out of line-”
“Oh, bullshit! I was doing my job-”
“I gave you a direct order and you ignored it, putting yourself and the entire team at risk.”
Hotch’s voice rose in volume when you combated his critique, and even though you had spoken over him first, the fact that he was now doing it to you only fueled your anger further. You took a bold step forward and glared up at Hotch as you grit your rebuttal out through your teeth.
“I saved that kid’s life-”
“By being reckless! You could’ve gotten him killed. You could have gotten killed. Don’t you get that?”
“But I didn’t! No one got hurt, so what the fuck is the issue-”
“The issue is you.”
Hotch’s comment quickly halted the verbal punch you were about to throw, and as you glared up at him, you noticed that his nostrils were flaring with fury and that his darkened eyes were wild and blown open with pure unbridled rage. The sting of his words caused the wildfire flaring inside of you to shrink to the dull roar of a fireplace blaze. Crossing your arms over your chest in a sign of defiance, you lowered the volume of your voice and layered it with acidity. 
“You’re a fucking hypocrite.”
Hotch narrowed his eyes, which seemed to be glowing with resentment, as he took another step towards you, faintly cocking his head to the side.
“Excuse me?”
He was giving you an opportunity to correct yourself. But one thing Hotch hadn’t seemed to learn about you was that you could be just as stubborn as he was, and once you reached a certain stage in your wrath, you didn’t back down. You went straight for the jugular.
“If it had been you, you wouldn’t have called it ‘reckless’. But because it’s me, you flip out and blow the whole fucking thing out of proportion because you treat me like I’m a goddamn child-”
“I wouldn’t treat you like a child if you didn’t fucking act like one.”
At this point, there was barely an inch of space between you and Hotch, and you had to tilt your head back slightly just to return his scowl. He might as well have thrown gasoline on the fire with that comment, and you were suddenly completely fed up with no one in this goddamn building viewing you as a grown fucking woman.
“If it had been Derek, or Emily, you wouldn’t be giving them shit like this. You would’ve given them a slap on the wrist, but still acknowledged that they got the job done. So why do I get treated differently-”
“Because you’re not as good as you think you are, and you’re certainly not as good as them.”
That simple statement hurt worse than if Hotch had physically struck you across the face with the back of his hand. All the fury within you suddenly fizzled out, and you stood there dumbstruck while Hotch let out an exasperated exhale through his nose and turned away from you to walk around the corner of his desk and plop down angrily in his chair. He opened the file currently sitting in front of him and directed his irritated attention solely to the pages, reaching for a pen from the holder to his right to wrap his fingers around. He didn’t even look up as he barked out his next order.
“You’re suspended for three weeks. When you return, we’ll discuss your behavior and your future here at the B.A.U.”
Everything felt like it had suddenly come crashing down around you, and you found yourself wondering if it was all worth it. The stress of the job, the never ending hours, the horrors you saw day in and day out, but especially the treatment you received from Hotch and the others. You started to wonder if you had tricked yourself into believing it wasn’t harmful and had all come from a good place, but now you weren’t so sure anymore. For the first time since joining the B.A.U., you found yourself wanting out.
Swallowing the pieces of the lump that threatened to form in your throat, you lifted your chin slightly and spoke in a quiet but firm voice.
“No.”
Hotch quickly lifted his gaze to glower up at you, the thickness of his brows making him appear angrier from where you stood above him. However the second he caught the look on your face, his eyes softened considerably and he sat up straight, the semi permanent frown on his lips vanishing into a subtle line. His eyes followed the movement of your hand while you pulled the gun from the holster at your hip and sat it down in front of him on the desk, along with your badge. There was a brief flash of panic in Hotch’s eyes when he looked at you again, and his lips parted slightly, but you didn’t give him a chance to speak.
“I quit.”
Turning around to solemnly leave his office, you ignored the gentle pleas of your name leaving his lips. As you descended the stairs, the team’s heads perked up in curiosity, their gazes darting between your melancholic movements while you gathered your things, and the sight of a frantic Hotch rushing down the stairs like a man on a mission.
“Agent Y/L/N, do not walk away from me when I’m talking to you.”
Realizing that he was getting nowhere by being authoritative, Hotch let out an exasperated deep exhale through his nose and lowered the volume of his voice, speaking in a far gentler tone.
“Y/N we have to talk about this, you can’t just leave.”
You didn’t bother looking at any of them as you began your walk towards the elevators. You could still hear Hotch following closely behind you, and all of a sudden Derek’s large figure appeared in front of you. He dipped his head slightly to capture your eyes, the confusion on his features melting into pure concern as he glanced over your shoulder at Hotch before looking back at you. He held his right hand out towards you as if he were extending an olive branch and tilted his head to the side slightly.
“Whoa, what’s goin’ on Baby Spice? C’mon, talk to me.”
Derek was speaking to you in that gentle manner that he used when he wanted to show a victim that he wasn’t a threat. There was no doubt he could see the sadness and defeat glistening in your eyes, but you didn’t have the energy to rip open the wound any further.
“I’m going home. Please move.”
That was all you could manage to weakly get out as you attempted to step around him. But Derek, being Derek, wasn’t having it. He reached out to gently place his hand on your shoulder.
“I’ll drive you.”
“I can drive myself.”
“Baby-”
“I’m not a child, Derek. I don’t need your help, can you back off?”
Derek’s warm gaze widened considerably, and his neat onyx brows rose up his forehead in complete shock. You had never exploded on him like that, or any of the others for that matter. But right now all you wanted to do was get the hell out of there.
“Let her go.”
Derek glanced over your shoulder to look at JJ in pure confusion, but she gave a slight shake of her head while holding his gaze with a firm look in her ocean blue eyes, giving him a nonverbal cue to sit this one out. After a moment of hesitation, Derek removed his hand from your shoulder and took a step to the left to unblock your path. 
The entire team was silent while watching you disappear behind the elevator doors.
»»———  ———««
A subtle but firm series of knocks at your door roused you from your sleep. Squinting at the clock on your bedside table, the lime green numbers read ten twenty-three pm. You hadn’t even remembered falling asleep. As soon as you had walked through the door of your apartment hours ago, you kicked off your shoes and crawled in bed, your mind spiraling about what you had just done and what it meant for the future.
When the knocks grew more impatient, you threw your comforter off with an irritated huff and got out of bed, exiting your bedroom to make your way to the living room to figure out who the hell was knocking on your door this late. However when you swung the front door open, your unexpected visitor was the last person you expected it to be.
Aaron Hotchner.
The darkness under his eyes was more prominent than usual, and his neatly cropped hair looked messy, as if he had been stressfully running his fingers through it. The permanent scowl he normally wore was missing from his lips, and there was a faint flicker of concern highlighted in his eyes. The first two buttons of his white dress shirt were undone, and his merlot colored tie hung loosely around his neck.
He looked exhausted.
Instead of speaking, you arched one of your dark brows, silently asking for the reason for his impromptu visit. As he shifted awkwardly to his other foot and cleared his throat, you realized you had never seen him look so unsure of himself.
“May I come in?”
Part of you wanted to slam the door in his face, but a bigger part of you was curious to know why your former boss had shown up at your door unannounced at ten thirty at night. Letting out a deep exhale through your nose, you stepped aside to allow Hotch to pass by you. The second the door shut with a soft click and you turned around to face him, there was already a blanket of irritation tugging his features down. He didn’t even give you a chance to question his presence before speaking.
“You’re a pain in my ass.”
A dry laugh instantly escaped your lips, and a soft furrow settled between your brows while you crossed your arms over your chest.
“Wow, you’re really good at this whole apology thing, huh?”
“I’m not here to apologize. I’m here to be honest with you, and the honest truth is you’re a huge pain in my ass. You’re stubborn, emotionally reactive, not to mention combative-”
“Then why the hell did you hire me-”
“I’m not finished.”
Hotch was speaking in that firm authoritative voice he used whenever he wanted to make it crystal clear he wasn’t in the mood for bullshit or push back. Despite your burning desire to lash out again, you bit your tongue and settled for glaring at him instead.
“You are constantly acting like you have something to prove-”
“Because you make me feel like I have to, Aaron. You, and the rest of the team, make me feel like I have to prove my worth every fucking day. Do you have any idea how exhausting that is? Or how much that makes me doubt myself?”
“Do you ever stop talking long enough to listen to someone else speak?”
Tension hung in the small space of your living room like a heavy and dense fog. Hotch observed you silently for a moment as your frustrations lingered in the air while you refused to meet his eyes. There was an unreadable expression on his face, and he seemed to wait until he could tell your emotions had leveled out slightly before speaking again.
“I admired your compassion.”
Perplexity twisted up your features as you stared across your living room at Hotch.
“What?”
“You asked why I hired you. That’s why.”
He made it sound like it was the most simple statement in the world, but it only added another layer to the cryptic labyrinth you were trying to navigate.
“I don’t understand-”
“When I reviewed your case work with you in your interview, I was impressed by your attention to detail. But I was even more impressed that when I asked you questions about the victims you had worked with, you gave me personal details about them, not just black and white facts that were in their file. You remembered things about them. You humanized them instead of speaking about them like a statistic.”
All you could do was blink at him in surprise. That was the last thing you expected to come out of his mouth. Sensing that a calmness had settled over you, Hotch took a cautious step forward and continued.
“You know just as much about the victims of notorious serial killers as you do about the serial killers themselves. Every solution you have to a problem is led with people in mind, trying to minimize casualties. You speak about victims like people, not numbers or objects. You put everyone’s feelings, and safety, before your own, and that is both the best thing about you and the worst.”
The sincerity in Hotch’s voice caught you off guard, and for a moment you weren’t sure what to say. He spoke to you in the soft voice you had once overheard him speaking to Jack in on the phone, and that caused a fluttering feeling inside your stomach. But it also added to your confusion. If he thought so highly of you, then why did he treat you the way he did?
“Why are you so different with me?”
Hotch let out a deep exhale through his nose, dragging his palm down his face slowly before loosely gesturing to you with his hand.
“Because it’s my job to protect you.”
“No it isn’t.”
It was Hotch’s turn to stare at you in puzzlement, his thick brows knit together in the center of his forehead. Running a hand through your hair in slight irritation, you shook your head slowly.
“I knew exactly what I was signing up for when I applied for this job. I knew it was dangerous-”
“My job as the unit chief is to keep my team safe-”
“No, Aaron. It’s to lead us. We all knew the risks when we joined. There is only so much you can control, you of all people should know that. I know you try to look out for us, but you don’t treat the rest of the team like you treat me. And I get it, okay? I am the youngest on the team, but I’m not a child-”
“I don’t think you’re a child.”
Hotch looked even more perplexed by your words, his head tilted to the side slightly while looking over at you.
“Y/N, your age has nothing to do with the way I treat you-”
“Then what is it?”
That uncertainty was once again shining in his eyes. It looked like Hotch was struggling internally with which version of his truth he wanted to give you. The revelation about your age not being a factor in his treatment filled you with a sense of relief, but also left you with more questions than answers. After what felt like an eternity of silence, Hotch’s face softened considerably as he took a few steps closer towards you.
“I…I care about all of you, and I don’t want to see anything happen to any of you.”
The intensity of his eye contact caused a slight shiver to nip at your spine, and it seemed like there was a hidden meaning to his sentence; something deeper. 
“You…care about me?”
The tiniest of smirks tugged at the edge of Hotch’s lips, and his eyes had lightened in color with pure amusement.
“You know, for one of my most brilliant profilers, you’re pretty bad at this. Should I be concerned?”
Warmth bloomed in your cheeks hearing the faint tease lingering at the edge of his question. Hotch had never been this laid back and playful with you before. It almost sounded like he was…flirting?
Your eyes widened slightly while staring up at him, an overly dramatic gasp leaving your lips.
“Was that…a joke? Did you just make a joke? Are you feeling alright? Should I call a doctor?”
Deciding to test the waters, you brought your hand up to place the back of it against his forehead before moving it downwards to place against his cheek, as if you were checking his temperature. All of a sudden, a huge tooth bearing grin stretched across his lips, and your breath caught in your throat.
He was smiling.
Aaron Hotchner was smiling. 
He gently grasped your wrist in his large hand, his grin fading to a miniscule smirk while his gaze became a little more intense.
“Actually, smartass, I’m having a bit of a rough night. One of my best profilers quit on me earlier. Although in her defense, I was kind of being a dick.”
“Kind of?”
“Don’t push it. I’m already doing something I normally don’t.”
“Which is?”
“Begging for forgiveness.”
Hotch hadn’t let go of your wrist, and either your mind was playing tricks on you, or he had somehow gotten closer. There was barely a centimeter separating your chests. Him telling you not to push it only made you want to do it that much more, and since you had already technically quit, you decided to throw caution to the wind.
“I don’t hear any begging.”
The mirth in Hotch’s eyes darkened into something you hadn’t seen before, and for a moment you were nervous that you had crossed a line. It felt like he was staring directly into your soul, searching for some answer that would determine his next move. 
“You are by far the most frustrating woman I have ever met.”
Woman.
Hotch thought of you as a woman, and that caused a bright grin to stretch across your lips.
“Well, you’re no ray of sunshine either, but I still like you.”
Hotch’s grasp on your wrist tightened slightly at the end of your sentence, and a look of surprise flashed across his face before his eyes returned to that darkened look you couldn’t decipher. 
“Is that so?”
His voice was low, but firm, and the sultriness of it nestled comfortably between your inner thighs. All you could do was subtly nod while staring up at him, watching as he leaned in meticulously and painfully slow.
“If I’m reading this wrong-”
“If you’re reading this wrong, you’re a terrible profiler.”
You weren’t one to wait for action, so before he could respond, you reached up to grab onto the back of Hotch’s neck and pulled him down to press your lips against his in a tentative kiss. At first he tensed up, but then you felt his body physically relax, and a soft hum sounded in your throat when he snaked his arm around your waist. Reluctantly pulling away, he gently brushed his nose against yours and whispered.
“So, I’ll see you in the office Monday?”
“Mm, no.”
Hotch pulled back so he could stare down at you in pure perplexity, and you grinned at his facial expression.
“No?”
“I’m suspended, remember? Three weeks, I think it was?”
Hotch’s lips formed into a thin line as he stared down at you, the amusement previously lingering in his eyes completely gone. You couldn’t help but laugh, lightly shoving him away from you with your palms against his chest.
“Hey, you decided my sentence.”
“You were being a brat-”
“And now this brat has a three week vacation. I’ve been meaning to take a trip anyway-”
“Actually, I haven’t filed any paperwork, so you’re not officially suspended, and you’re still a current employee. I’ll see you on Monday, Agent Y/L/N.”
The demanding tone of his voice made you bite down on your bottom lip, and you leaned back against your kitchen island while arching one of your brows in challenge and crossing your arms across your chest with a playful smirk on your lips.
“You don’t wanna see me before that, sir?”
The way you used his title clearly had an affect on him, and you suddenly realized that the emotion eclipsing his eyes was pure lust. He slowly reached his hand up to tug at the loose knot on his tie until it came undone around his neck completely, and he slowly approached you with a wolfish grin.
“Why do you think I’m here?”
tags: @mars-rants-a-lot @ninejlovebot @oscarisaacsleftknee
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supercriminalbean · 1 year
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Watching season 1 episode 6 L.D.S.K. and realizing I really need therapy so badly.
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ddejavvu · 8 months
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pairing: aaron hotchner x reader
summary: your BeReal for the day is, perhaps, a little too real
contents/warnings: smut (18+, minors dni)
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There's no mistaking the notification that chimes on your nightstand. It's BeReal, the unique sound lets you know, and you're not in the best position right now to answer it.
You're in the best position, period. You're sprawled out against Aaron's silky bedsheets, the fabric soothing and cool against your flushed skin. You're sweaty, hot, and bothered, your cunt begging for more as Aaron drives his cock repeatedly through your sopping folds.
"Fuck," You hiss, partially at the feeling of Aaron's teeth scraping at your collarbone, and partially because you panic at the sound, "Aaron, my- gimme my phone."
"Don't you think this is a little more important?" He grunts, nearly knocking his skull into your jaw as he lunges for a kiss. He takes you by surprise, and you're nearly pulled away from your urgency to post when his tongue practically slips down your throat.
You nearly gag on it, and your nails take a break from scratching up his back to weave through the short strands of hair at the back of his neck. It's not long enough to tug, but he huffs at the feeling of your nails scraping across his scalp, and rocks his hips into yours slightly faster.
"Oh, fuck, Aaron," You pant when he finally lets you breathe, burying his head in your shoulder to bite at the skin there instead, "Aaron this is so hot, I wanna- please, I wanna post it."
"No face," He instructs, and you're more than happy to choose a different area of his body to focus on, "Don't need Garcia figuring us out."
The moans that escape your mouth, albeit muffled by Aaron's own, are so pornographic that you're paranoid they'll somehow be captured in the photo you snap. When you finally get your hands on your phone you aim it at Aaron's back, as well as the red stripes left by your newly manicured nails, and snap a photo. Then, with the front camera, your jaw that's been sucked sore by Aaron, and in the corner of the shot, his short black hair and strong jawline nestled against your skin. You keep it just as he's instructed, vague enough of a profile so that your coworkers shouldn't be able to figure out that it's him, and his post without a second thought. You feel the buzzings of replies soon after, but you're no longer capable of caring about them while they vibrate against your nightstand, much happier to focus on Aaron's relentless jackhammering into your pulsating cunt.
--
Gathering in the conference room the next day means that you get a lot of shit-eating grins. You'd expected it, what with the soft porn you'd posted, and you're surprised when even Rossi offers you his congratulations.
"Nice going, kiddo," He knocks elbows with you, and you laugh sheepishly.
"You saw?"
"Morgan filled me in," He nods, "Garcia was the first one to know, of course, but it spread very quickly."
You don't have it in you to be embarrassed in front of your team too badly. You're all adults, and they're more proud of you than anything, even if Reid's smile is extra awkward today.
"Just be glad Hotch doesn't have the app," Emily laughs, and for a moment you forget that they don't know you're together. But you play it off with a wry smile towards her as your Unit Chief walks through the door, and you're happy to let your attention drift to him as he speaks.
His tone is authoritative, like always, and you fight to stop something from stirring between your legs. You tune into what he's saying instead, something about a double homicide in Kansas, and that helps dissuade any distracting thoughts you might have had.
"-and those pictures are... not on the monitor." Aaron narrows his eyes at the black screen, and Garcia nearly breaks the remote trying to get it to respond.
"Sir, I'm trying! I'm sorry," She frets, mashing all of the buttons at once in her panic, "It's not working, I- I think the batteries might be dead?"
"I changed them two weeks ago," Hotch shakes his head while taking the remote from her, stepping up towards the monitor to fiddle with the buttons beneath it, "It's alright, Garcia, it's not your fault."
He cranes his head down to peer at remote in his hand, intent on making sure no acid has leaked from the batteries, but when he does so, the back of his neck is no longer covered by his shirt collar, and it's bright red.
There's clear marks from your nails, red streaks that haven't faded in the mere hours they've been left alone and probably won't for another day. It barely takes any time for a room of profilers to connect two and two, and Penelope's position as technical analyst doesn't hinder her realization.
Your hand shoots over your mouth as the rest of your team exchanges incredulous gasps and jeers, all looking rapidly between you and Hotch. He turns to raise an eyebrow at them all and his eyes land on your bashful grin.
"Remind me to rub some aloe on the back of your neck when we get home," You mumble sheepishly, and there's only more scandalized comments made about how you two go home together.
Aaron's jaw clenches and he sighs defeatedly at the realization that you've both been caught, a hand flying up to cup the back of his neck.
Everyone waits with bated breath to hear what he has to say for himself but he can't manage to muster up anything to save the awkward situation.
"We'll look at the details on the jet," He grumbles, setting the faulty remote on the counter and snatching his bag off of the ground beside his chair, "Wheels up in thirty, and we never speak of this again."
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avis-writeshq · 2 months
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pairing: aaron hotchner x fem!reader genre: established relationship, SMUT warnings: 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT + BLOCK ‘#nightingale ..’ !! face fucking, drool/saliva, mean-ish dom!aaron, sub!reader, degradation, praise, ‘good girl’, dacryphilia anon: okay okay hear me out. aaron hotchner being stressed out from a case and you giving him the sloppiest head ever. completely unable to think or speak he just groans and fucks ur face :3 i need him so bad bye -🗽 a/n: now i don’t usually write smut but i couldn’t resist i’m afraid :( mdni banner + template by @/cafekitsune wc: 560
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Aaron isn’t usually like this. He has always been respectful towards you, especially in bed, and he abhors the sheer idea of hurting you in any way. But today is different. He can’t help himself; Strauss has been on his back about paperwork and politics, the case that they were on ended with a suicide by cop and their usually smooth flight was interrupted by an unexpected bout of turbulence. His head spins as he enters his apartment, rubbing tiredly at his eyes as an aura of frustration follows him in waves.
He insists that it isn’t his fault. It’s not his fault that you sauntered up to him whilst wearing only his shirt– only his shirt– and asked him so sweetly if you could do anything to help him. It’s not his fault that you’re in this position with your head between his thighs as he grips your hair to guide you up and down his shaft. 
You’re gagging and whimpering as saliva pools around your lips and the base of his cock, drooling all over his thighs and getting the waistband of his pants wet. The grip he has on your hair tightens as he pushes you down further.
“Look at you, drooling all over me,” he sneers, watching with satisfaction as your nose brushes against his pubic hair. “Are you that fucking needy?”
Even if you tried to respond there is no way for him to get a proper answer; not with the way he drags you up and down his thick shaft. Your tongue flattens against the underside of his dick while your fingers dig into the flesh of his thighs. He thinks you’re so pretty like this as you press sloppy kisses to his tip before taking it into your mouth again. 
A heavy groan leaves his lips as your tongue swirls around the head of his cock and he forces you down once more, his hot seed spilling down your throat and out of the sides of your lips. He’s merciless as he fucks it further into your throat while you gag and tears run down your cheeks and off your chin. 
“So good for me,” he praises as he thrusts against the back of your mouth through his orgasm. “Just like that, there you go, sweetheart, you’re my good girl.”
You manage to pull away after a while, leaning your head against his thigh while he runs his fingers through your hair. He hums softly, his eyes fixed on the way yours are glazed over while beads of white are splattered around the corners of your pretty lips. His dick is still half-hard and he brings one of your hands to wrap around it, fisting up and down slowly until it’s stiff all over again. 
He’s holding you by the hair again, bringing your face down and having his tip prod against your cum-stained lips. 
“You can keep going, can’t you, baby?” Aaron asks, letting his grip on your hair go to stroke your cheek with his thumb, just below your ear.
You manage a nod, nuzzling into his palm as the rest of his fingers hold you by the chin. 
“Good girl,” he coos as you open your mouth to suckle on his tip one more. His head leans back against the couch as he groans at the sensation. “Just one more.”
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reblogs are always appreciated !!
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honeypiehotchner · 15 days
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kiss her, you fool (Hotch x fem!Reader) -- one shot
Anyway I'm back in the fucking building again!!!! Listened to "Kiss Her You Fool" by Kids That Fly and had this one shot written in like an hour. The love for Aaron Hotchner never dies apparently
Summary: You're in the middle of spring cleaning when Aaron calls and says he forgot something at your place (he didn't).
Warnings: tooth-rotting fluff! I just wanted to write some romance
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It’s the middle of the day and you’re in the middle of a cleaning frenzy when your phone rings for what looks like the third time. It’s Aaron.
“Hey! Sorry,” you laugh, grabbing the TV remote to pause your music, phone pressed to your ear with your shoulder. “I’m spring cleaning and clearly way too far in the zone. What’s up?”
“That’s okay,” you can hear him smiling as you readjust your phone in your hand. “Would it be alright if I stopped by? I think I left something there last night.”
You furrowed your brows, spinning around the living room. You definitely would’ve noticed if he left something here last night. You’ve practically turned your entire apartment upside down to clean it.
“Are you sure?” you ask, moving to lift the couch cushions for a third time. “What was it?”
“I’m not sure,” he says, which totally isn’t suspicious at all. “Can I just come look?”
“I mean,” you let out an awkward laugh. “I guess you can. I’ve been cleaning since this morning, though, so I think I would’ve spotted it, but—”
“I’ll be there in fifteen,” he says. “If that’s okay?”
You sigh, selfishly glad you’re getting to see him again, two days in a row. It feels like you’ve hit the jackpot. “Yeah, of course it’s okay.”
“Great, see you in a few.”
“See you,” you bite back your grin, ending the call. You turn the music back on, a little lower so you’ll hear him when he knocks.
You have no earthly idea what he could’ve forgotten. He had his phone and jacket in hand when he left. He never took his wallet or keys out of his jacket pockets, so they must’ve stayed there. Unless either of them fell out, but again, you feel like you would’ve noticed.
Whatever it is, he’ll either find it or realize it isn’t here. Regardless, you’re getting to see him again, so you’ll take it.
With his job, the days that you do see Aaron are typically one long day spent together here and there. Yesterday was an exception, a rare dinner mid-work week because he happened to be done at the office early and you were free, so obviously the opportunity was taken advantage of. It’s only been a few weeks of seeing one another, so you both take any chance you can get. 
Despite this, though, things have moved…slow. Slower than you expected because, to be frank, every guy you’ve been with has been quick and to the point. Not that you always minded that. Sometimes you wanted the same thing — quick, hot, heavy. But those days have since left you, and you went through a period of seeing no one, aside from one guy who left as soon as you said you were interested in moving slowly. 
It’s nothing against Aaron, but when he first introduced himself at your local coffee shop, you kind of assumed he’d be the same. It’s hard not to assume when everyone acted that way, and when the men who frequent said coffee shop don’t exactly have the best track record for being polite and respectful.
Aaron, though, took weeks to ask for your number, let alone to join your table one morning to sip his coffee — and even then, you offered him the seat; he didn’t invite himself. That alone was enough for you to agree to give him your number, and then to an official first date.
He kissed your cheek after the first date, your forehead after the second, and kept to those areas alone. You found yourself wondering if something was wrong with you somehow, but he wasn’t disinterested. Quite the opposite, actually, from how he held your hand and kept his arms around you, how he made sure you were safely inside your apartment before heading off, how he still texted when he arrived home to ask you if you were still safely inside.
Or when he had to cancel a date last minute, and sent flowers to your apartment in lieu of his presence. He apologized over the phone, but the flowers had an apology note attached too. And another apology when he arrived at your door four days later, fresh off the plane, with a real explanation of his job and why he didn’t have time to explain it all to you before he left.
Your friends think it’s a little crazy, that it’s been almost a month of dating and there hasn’t been a single kiss — “On the cheek doesn’t count!” they argue. You think it does. If anything, you’re just happy there’s no pressure.
The underlying anxiety is there, sure, of what if it never happens? But you can’t bring yourself to entertain the thought. Mainly because you want to kiss him so bad, you’re practically going to leap onto him one of these days.
You’re mid-dance when a knock sounds on your door and you jump, having forgotten Aaron said he would be here soon. You turn the music down as you head for the door, unlocking it to let him in.
He stands there in his usual dark suit, sans tie this time so the top buttons are undone, bouquet of flowers in hand and dumb smile on his face.
“What are these for?” you ask when he hands them to you. 
He steps inside and shuts the door, pausing to press a kiss to your forehead. “Because I wanted to.”
You give him a look, cheeks feeling warm. “If you keep doing this ‘because you want to,’ I’m gonna need to open a flower truck,” you joke, gesturing to the other vase of flowers sitting in your window. And there’s another in the bathroom. And one in your bedroom. 
“Just let me know what kind of truck you want,” he teases.
You press the flowers to your nose to hide your smile. “Oh, what did you forget? You’re welcome to look for it, but—”
He lets out a laugh, scratching the back of his neck. “Well, I might have lied.”
“I knew you were, you idiot,” you swat playfully at his arm. You turn to head into the kitchen in search of another vase. “I got off the phone and paced around like what did he possibly leave here? I figured maybe your wallet or something, but I definitely would’ve found it earlier. You should’ve seen the living room this morning — I had the couch on its side and the coffee table in the middle of the hallway—”
You’re in the middle of rambling, digging around under the sink for a vase, when Aaron pulls you up by your hand, spinning you to face him.
“—it was a disaster trying to vacuum. Remind me never to do that unless you’re over here to lift all of it. I think I nearly—”
He’s smiling at you, and you don’t have a single moment to spare to register that he’s leaning in before his lips are on yours. 
You sigh into the kiss, pleasantly surprised to be interrupted in this way, and glad your hands are free so you can hold onto him. Maybe this is why it’s good he hadn’t kissed you yet — one second of it and you’re ready to collapse under the sweet weight of it all. His arms circle your waist to lift you up, and your arms circle his neck, keeping him close. As close as you’ve really wanted him.
When you finally break for air, it’s only to press your foreheads against one another’s, not wanting to move too far.
“Well,” you laugh.
“Technically,” he says, pausing to peck your nose, “that’s what I forgot last night.”
You roll your eyes. “You are so stupid.”
“Mm, just because it makes you smile,” he says, kissing your lips again, and again. “What are you doing tonight?”
“Ideally,” you pause, letting him kiss you again, “ordering dinner in and making out with my boyfriend until the sun rises. You?”
“You know, I was thinking about taking someone special out to dinner,” he pauses, pulling you closer again, “and then kissing her until she tells me to stop.”
“That could be forever, for all you know.”
“That’s fine with me.”
You grin and he kisses you again, pausing to say, “Sorry, I can’t help myself—”
“Trust me,” you move even closer, your eyelashes practically touching his cheeks when you blink, “you don’t need to apologize.”
He responds by kissing you some more, and more, until he’s lifting you into his arms and placing you on the kitchen counter. 
“Aaron!” you squeal, nearly crushing the bouquet. “Let me move the flowers at least!”
“I’ll buy you another,” he says, just a whisper away from kissing you again. 
“You know—” You have to pause in between words as he presses his lips to yours. “—I still have—cleaning—Aaron,” you giggle. “I need to put my apartment back together.”
“Do you?” he asks, relenting only slightly, his fingertips pressing into your lower back, keeping you against him. “Do you need help?”
“I do actually,” you chuckle, running your fingers through his hair. “The couch isn’t back where it was.”
He smirked. “I noticed.”
You tug on his hair slightly to tease him for that jab, only it lights a new spark behind his eyes. Your cheeks grow even warmer. “No, seriously,” you say. “It’ll stress me out if it’s not back in its spot, but then…”
He nods, kissing your lips. “Then we’ll get ready for dinner.”
“And then come back here for a movie?”
“We’ll see how much of the movie we actually pay attention to,” he smirks, eyes traveling all over your face. 
The urge to let him ravish you right now against the kitchen counter is so strong it nearly makes you lightheaded. But soon Aaron is helping you down, pressing another kiss to your forehead. 
“Did you get to vacuum under the couch all the way?”
“…kind of.”
“Come on,” he chuckles, pulling on your hand, leading you back into the living room. “Call me next time?”
“If I get kissed like that during spring cleaning then I’m doing it every day,” you reply, mostly joking. Kind of. “Fuck I forgot the vase for the flowers—”
Aaron kisses you to interrupt you once again. “One thing at a time,” he says.
The kissing doesn’t stop, and you never do get to vacuum under the couch. It can wait.
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