#marchhotchness
Text
i can see you
pairing: aaron hotchner x f!reader
summary: "here i was thinking that i was special because you would only look at me with that desperate look on your face, but i see that you give any old man that look, right?”
content warnings: jealous!hotch, reader is a panther (aren't we all), bathroom sex, mirror sex, p in v, sexual tension, unprotected sex (r mentions being on birth control but wrap it before you tap it!), rough sex, dirty talk, size kink if u squint, spanking, hair pulling, choking, dom!hotch, sub!reader.
word count: 3.9k (y’all this was not supposed to be this long lmao)
notes: day 18 of @hotchfiles marchhotchness 'self-image' but also HEAVILY inspired by this post from @softhairedhotch because it made me go FERAL and i love jealous hotch (but pls lmk if taking inspo was okay!!) this is also my first hotch fic ever so pls lmk ur thoughts or any other feedback <333
aaron hotchner was not a jealous man.
he had no right to be jealous over something that technically did not exist or someone that technically was not his.
and although he only had himself to blame for that, he really did wish that you were his. and as much as he was telling himself not to be, he was jealous.
but it wasn’t the typical jealous where he watched you be approached by someone much younger than him—someone your own age instead of his—and by someone who already had him beat in reciprocating that flirtatious energy you often used on aaron himself.
no, this type of jealousy was one that was boosting his ego and making him feel lightweight, albeit the fact that it still made him see red.
it was a typical night out with the rest of the team, all of you having agreed that the eight of you were in need of a couple of drinks after some long weeks of paperwork and back and forth cases.
you were all engrossed in the conversation, but you had left the table to get yourself another refill on your drink and had taken far too long than it normally would have, the rest of the younger members—all besides reid—having decided on hitting up the dance floor throughout the time you hadn’t returned to your seat.
it was practically natural for aaron to look for you in a crowd, but what he hadn’t expected to find was you, sitting in a bar stool on the right side of the bar, being hit up by a man who had to have been a couple of years older than aaron himself.
the front hairs of the man’s head were peeking of several grey hairs, paired with a matching grey beard and an overall radiance that screamed of that older man type that you were apparently into.
the sudden revelation made aaron feel dizzy, the confirmation of your attraction towards older men making his pants tighten as he watched the way you stared up at the man with that sultry look of yours—the one where you were somehow able to perfectly mix mischief and innocence seamlessly together.
while you had used that look on aaron countless times before, times where it had been only you and him alone in his office, way past working hours, he had never done anything about it. but, god, as he watched you do it to someone else, out on the open, there was nothing he was currently regretting more.
aaron’s train of thought was interrupted as he felt someone kick him from underneath the table he sat at, whipping his head to the person in front of him only to find rossi staring at him with a smug look on his face.
he cleared his throat, “what?”
aaron mentally cringed at the way his voice wavered.
“you gonna be done being jealous anytime soon and make a move or are you just gonna sit there throwing daggers at the guy?” dave asked, brows raised.
he took a long sip from his drink, trying to avoid the question for as long as he could as he tried to compose himself, “i don’t know what you’re talking about,”
rossi rolled his eyes, “oh, please, aaron. you don’t have to be a profiler to notice the way you can cut the tension that’s between the both of you with a butter knife,”
aaron’s brows furrowed.
“you have all the confirmation you need right there,” dave pointed his thumb behind him, signaling at you and the man, “if that’s not enough for you, then i’m declaring you helpless at this point,” he let out a sigh, standing from his seat, “i’m going to get another drink and if i find you still sitting here, wallowing in your thoughts after getting my refill, i’ll go up to them and encourage her to go home with the man.”
aaron’s fists clenched at the thought. at the thought of you sprawled on the bed of another man, wearing that same look you had on just now and staring up at him as you—
his body acted faster than his brain did, and before he even had the chance to process what he was doing, he stood from his own stool, not allowing for another moment to pass by as he stormed over to where you and the man were sitting.
from your side of the room, you can see aaron make his way over to you through the peripheral of your vision, the excitement of finally getting a reaction out of him making your heart skip and your thighs press together as you took into count the way his fists clenched and unclenched at his sides.
the pressure you put on your thighs didn’t do anything to relieve the ache you felt in your core as he reached where you sat, coming to stand behind—was his name michael? although the stranger you had began talking to was definitely older than him, aaron was a good several inches taller, towering over the both of you.
he cleared his throat, cutting michael off from whatever he had been talking to you about as he turned around with a raised brow. aaron’s expression didn’t falter, not sparing a single glance at the man as his eyes landed on you, “y/n, can i speak to you for a moment?”
you mentally rolled your eyes. ever the formal one.
michael scoffed from in front of him, angling his body so that he was able to properly glare daggers at your boss, “we were in the middle of a conversation here, if you don’t mind?”
although your attraction for aaron skyrocketed in comparison to the man you had just met, you were thriving off of the jealousy radiating off of the one you wanted the most, the ache in your stomach only growing.
before aaron had the chance to shoot out a reply, you set your hand on michael’s forearm, giving him a small, but sad smile, “i’m sorry, michael,” you butted in, jumping off of the bar stool, “i’ll be right back, okay?”
another scoff comes from michael’s direction, “whatever,” he grabs his drink and rolls his eyes, “don’t even bother coming back,”
ew.
this time you actually rolled your eyes, grabbing at your drink and drowning the rest of it. you shrug, “older men are always a hit or miss,” you mumble, setting the glass down.
aaron’s hand comes to wrap around your wrist, a firm but gentle grip on it as he pulls you close to him, “let’s go,” he seethes in your ear.
you hide a smirk as you follow behind him, letting your body practically flail as you struggle to keep up with him. when he notices your staggered pace, he matches his footsteps with yours, moving his hand from your wrist to your waist as he guides you through the crowd and towards the hallway that lead towards the bar’s restrooms.
the both of you gave a silent thanks at the fact that there was no line, the hallway scarce and dimly lit with the exception of a few people standing together against the walls, either flirting or talking.
“what are you doing?” you ask, standing behind him as he knocks on one of the doors, his grip on your waist still very much present.
“you’ll see,” he mumbles, yanking the door open by the knob after no one replies and pulling the both of you inside before slamming the door shut behind him.
you try to take a good look at the interior of the bathroom, trying to guess if it was a good enough place to do whatever the two of you were about to do.
a faint gasp escapes your lips as you feel something hard press into your ass, immediately melting as one of aaron’s big hands comes to rub at the side of your leg, right below your hip. his whole body comes up behind yours, his other free hand coming to your stomach to press you into him.
“aaron—” you try to speak but get cut off as you let out another gasp, one almost like a sigh, as the hand that was rubbing at your leg sneaks further up and wraps itself around your hip, aaron’s thick fingers digging into your skin despite the material of your shorts that blocked his hand.
aaron dips his head so that his mouth is right next to your ear, his breath and the faint touch of his lips against the lower part of your jawline sending shivers down your spine.
“is this okay?” he asks softly, a total contrast from the vice grip he had on both your front and hip.
you nod quickly, your hand coming up to your right where he held your hip to wrap around his own.
“use your words, honey,”
the pet name makes you whimper and your thighs clench in spite of the fact that you were standing up. you let out a ragged breath as he awaits for your answer, the hand that was pressed to your stomach furthering down until it was right above your pelvis but below your tummy, pushing you further back until you could feel how hard he actually was.
you whine, your other hand coming to wrap around that one, too, “yes,” you sigh, “it’s okay,”
aaron presses his lips into that same spot below your jaw, gently and lovingly before whipping you around so that you were facing him and pushing you up against the counter.
not even giving you a chance to process what he had just done, his lips crash onto yours roughly, making you moan directly into his mouth. your bring your arms up around his neck, running your fingers through his hair and tugging.
aaron hisses, slapping at your thigh in a firm way that had you let out another moan.
“aaron,” you whine, pushing up into his chest out of desperation.
he hums, “do you want my attention now?” he asks through the kiss, “don’t wanna go back and talk to that guy you were all over just a couple of minutes ago?”
“no,” you mumble, huffing as he breaks away from you to wrap his fingers around your chin.
he chuckles as your lips form into a puffy pout, “here i was thinking that i was special because you would only look at me with that desperate look on your face, but i see that you give any old man that look, right?”
“no!” you whine again, your arms dropping from around his neck to wrap around his bicep, squeezing at the muscle to try and pull him closer to you, “just you!”
his confidence was beyond what it normally was, feeling you squirm from against him yet still wanting his touch, “really? so you weren’t planning on going home with that man? all those times you touched his shoulder or the times he would touch your thigh meant nothing?”
“yes, they didn’t mean anything!” you huff, “you’re the one i want to go home with all the time!”
aaron’s heart clenched at your confession, knowing that deep down you really did mean all the time. he had just never been sure if you truly were interested in living a joint life with him. up until now, that is.
he brings his hands to your back, right by your shoulder blades as he connects your lips once more. your shoulders relax and you lean into him with earnest, squeezing at the muscle from his bicep.
you hum, satisfied as he begins to run his hands up and down, resulting in the fabric of your shirt lifting with every time he went up, eventually ending up in nothing but rolled up fabric under his palm. he breaks the kiss once more to toss your shirt over your head and near the sink’s counter, leaving you in only your shorts.
aaron stared at your bare breasts, not expecting you to have not been wearing a bra despite the tight shirt you just had on.
you shiver under his gaze, opening your mouth to say something before he lowered himself and quickly attached a mouth to one of your breasts, the other one coming up to grab and squeeze at it. you moan, gripping onto the marble counter for support as he presses sloppy and wet kisses to each breast.
his fingers come to undo the button of your shorts, hooking them inside your panties before shoving both articles of clothing down your legs, signaling you to kick them off of you. you toed your shoes off as well, leaving you completely naked and bare for him while he remained fully clothed.
he turns you around gently, bringing you face to face with the sight of you completely stripped in the mirror, the image making you clench your thighs together once more as you stabilized yourself on the sink.
aaron’s hands soothed all around your body, a whimper leaving you at the feeling of his calloused hands groping at your breasts before moving down to your soaking pussy.
as if on instinct, you spread your legs open for him, practically inviting him to dip his fingers into your folds and inside your entrance. the thickness of both his index and middle fingers stretching you out. you knew you had always loved his hands for a reason.
a moan bounced off the walls as he pumped his fingers in and out of you, moving torturously slow before he began to pick up the pace. you could feel your slick drip onto the floor and probably onto the rest of his hand, but all you could focus on was shamelessly bucking your hips into your hand and spreading your legs for even more access.
“you’re soaking, honey,” aaron says, hand coming back around to squeeze at your breast again, leaving you gasping as he pinched your nipples.
you whimpered, “just for you,”
“‘just for me?’” he repeats, “not for anyone else, right?”
you shake your head no, pussy clenching around his fingers, “j-just for you, aaron,”
his hand left your breast to smack at your ass, making you jump, “good girl,”
with that, he takes his fingers out of you, a throaty whine leaving your lips at the empty feeling. you arched your back into him, but immediately stilled at the sound of him removing his belt filled the room. you watched from the mirror in front of you as he undid his pants button, reaching past his boxers to pull out his cock.
oh shit.
your mouth dropped at the sight of his dick spring out from where it had been confined, your slick hole clenching at nothing at how big he was. you knew that aaron hotchner was definition of big dick energy, always wondered what he was secretly packing, but now you wondered if you were going to be able to take it all.
he was thick, veiny all around with girth too thick that it hurt just looking at him. as much as you could tell you wouldn’t be able to walk after this, it excited you far too much.
you gulped, meeting his eyes in the mirror, landing on his hungry gaze, “is it going to fit?” you ask quietly, trying to bring your legs back together.
“we’ll make it fit,” he says, sounding confident of himself, a hand coming to stop you from closing your legs, “will you let me know if it’s too much?”
you take another look at his cock before giving him a determined look, “i will,” you nod.
he nods back, angling your head with his hand so he could press a kiss to your mouth.
you give into him easily, arching into him until you feel the tip of his cock slip through your wet folds and line up with your entrance. you had taken dick before, but never this big, so as he gave you one last look, you took a deep breath before feeling him sink into you.
you gasp, already feeling full by just the tip, though the slickness of your pussy helping you in adjust.
“still good, honey?”
you nod again, too busy focusing on how his length was stretching you out further than his fingers had.
smack!
aaron’s hand landed another spank on your ass, making you snap your heads toward him with a confused, dumbfounded expression. he glared, “use your words.”
you huffed, doing your best to not roll your eyes, “still good,” you replied, going back to focusing on how full your pussy already felt, “is it in yet?”
“almost, baby,” you whined again, pushing your ass back onto him and earning yourself another inch inside.
humming in delight, you felt aaron begin to move, setting a slow pace as he inched himself in and out to get you used to the length that was already inside you.
“aaron,” you sighed, “give it all to me,” you pleaded at him through the mirror, “i can take it,”
he studied your expression, all needy and flushed as you tried to buck your hips further back to fill yourself up more, “let me know if it’s too much,” he warned.
you nodded eagerly but didn’t get a chance to reply as he shoved the rest of his length inside, the tip immediately hitting that one spot. you gasped loudly, the feeling of his whole cock inside you awakening a hunger inside of you, “fuck,” you moaned, dropping your hands so that you were resting with your elbows on the counter, “please, aaron. move,”
he hesitated for another moment, and just as you were about to look behind you, you felt him begin to move, pistoling his hips into your ass roughly.
you let out a shriek, your hands grabbing at anything you could reach in order to stabilize yourself as he began to mercilessly pound into you from behind. he slipped his dick in and out of you each time, your pussy hugging the veiny length each time he did.
the sounds your juices made due to you being soaked vibrated against the room each time his hips hit your ass roughly, and it only edged you on further.
“a-aaron,” you moan, breasts jiggling against the cold sink as the girth of his cock stretched you out, “aaron! oh, fuck!”
you thought you had felt good getting his attention when you were back flirting with the guy, but nothing could have prepared you for the feeling of his dick slamming into you.
from above, aaron grunted and groaned, fingers and nails digging into your hips harshly as he pounded into your perfect pussy. he loved the way you clenched around him, taking it back perfectly each time he slipped back in.
his hand reached for your hair, wrapping his hand around it and pulling you back until you were flush against him with your back still perfectly arched. he dropped his hand from your head to wrap around your neck, fingers digging into the sides.
you gasped, not having a choice as you looked at him through the now foggy mirror, the image of your body rocking with every smack against your body only adding onto the sensation.
“such a perfect pussy,” aaron grumbled into your ear, “this pussy was made for me, wasn’t it sweetheart?”
you did your best to nod regardless of how weak your body felt, of the way you could feel your slick drip down to your thighs or the way you were drooling from your open mouth, “belongs to you, aaron,” you mumble, surprisingly coherently despite the way he was choking you.
“yeah, it does,” he grunts, free hand coming to grab at your stomach again before pushing against the spot where his cock was evidently sliding in and out of you, making you squirm, “this greedy pussy belongs to me. not to that bastard you were flirting with, right, honey?”
you nod again, eyes stuck on the tummy bulge you currently displayed, your hole clenching at aaron’s cock even tighter at the way the indent disappeared when he slipped out versus when it reappeared when slipping back in.
“feels so good, aaron,” you mumble, saliva dropping from your lips and onto your pointy, practically rock hard nipples that jiggled with each thrust.
“yeah?” he asks, breath hot against your ear, “taking it so well for me, such a good girl,” he praises, hand leaving from your stomach to slither down to where your bodies connected.
you let out a squeal as his middle finger slipped through your finger and his index began to rub furiously at your swollen clit, the feeling making the knot in your stomach tighten and tighten.
you babbled aaron’s name like a loose mantra, bodies rocking together as he quickened his pace after realizing that you were close to orgasming, hand tightening around your neck and finger rubbing even faster than before.
“c’mon, honey, come for me,” he encouraged, “come all over my cock, pretty girl,”
it was all the confirmation you need to let yourself go, body shaking and aaron’s name being repeated as you chased the high, glad that he was holding you up with his hands as your whole body stuttered.
the feeling of your pussy clenching and unclenching around him violently made aaron groan, sweat dripping down his body as he began to reach his own high just from the way your body reacted to orgasming from his dick. from the way he was fucking you and from the way he was naming you as his own.
you could feel his pace falter from behind you, lazily meeting his pace as you tried to encourage him to finish, “come in me, aaron, please,” you whined, needing to feel him fill you up to the point where his come would leak out of you, “fill up my pussy, aaron,”
he gave you a look of unsureness through the mirror before you nodded at him, “i’m on the pill. it’s okay. please,”
that had been all the confirmation he need for him to finish inside you, his cock twitching inside you as his seed filled you up, making you moan as you rode out your own orgasm, still clenching tightly around him.
you giggled at the way his body practically toppled onto yours as he tried to catch himself, bodies pressed together as he held onto the counter with his dick still inside you.
he snaked his hand around the side of your face as his breath evened, pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek and shutting up your whines as he pulled out from inside you with a kiss to your mouth.
“jack’s at a sleepover today,” he says after a few moments of silence.
you inch an eyebrow at him, watching as he leaned over to grab some toilet paper, snatching some off the holder before wiping himself clean of you and wincing at the sensitivity as he wiped gently at your own folds and thighs, “is he now?”
he hums, tucking himself back into his boxers and quickly buttoning his pants to help you put your own clothes on, “he is,” he grabbed your discarded shorts and parties from the floor and signaled you to lift your legs, “we can go home and i’ll wake you up with breakfast in bed and ask you to be go on an official date with me in the morning,”
your heart pulls as he buttons up your shorts for you, reaching for your shirt, too, “i’ll only say yes if we keep going when we get home,” you admit, making him freeze in his movements.
he pinched your nipple.
#marchhotchness#aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner x you#aaron hotchner fanfic#criminal minds#criminal minds fanfic#spencer reid#david rossi#derek morgan#penelope garcia#emily prentiss#jennifer jareau#maddie’s stills
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Can I get "stop being so pretty, it hurts" with hotch and a drunk reader ?
Perfect
Day Six of the #MarchHotchness event.
Find the other days HERE
Thank you to @hotchfiles for creating this event 💕
I did a pole and most of you seemed okay with using this request to fill the daily prompt. The ideas were already so similar in my head, that it made sense to do it this way. (I have two more requests in my inbox, I have been working on them. I've been really busy with work lately, so I'm playing a bit of catch-up here! They should be out soon though!)
As always Request here! | Masterlist
The smell of cheap vodka lingers. The taste mixes with the flavour of your cherry chapstick. Around you the room spins; your vision is unfocused, but your laughter bubbles as you move through the kaleidoscope of lights and colours. It's been too long since you've been able to spend a night this carefree.
You hips can't help but sway to the beat as your feet carry you with uncoordinated steps back to the table. Tripping over your own shoes sends you careening towards the floor, but you're spared the fate by a set of familiar hands.
“Careful,” his voice is steady and even as he helps you to stand up straight once more. His palm is warm at the small of your back as he guides you over to where your friends are sitting. The world around you goes quiet. In this moment you think you'd follow him anywhere. Unquestionably safe, and entirely blissful by his side. It's perfection.
“I think it might be time to go home,” compared to his speech, your words are mumbled and slightly slurred. Your mouth struggles to keep up with your mind. Or maybe the other way around?
“Then let's head home,” Aaron agrees easily.
Your eyes stay fixed on him as he collects your purse and your coat for you. He moves with purpose. Calculating with each motion to complete the task as quickly and efficiently as possible. He has no desire to leaving you standing on your own longer than necessary. Ever the gentleman, the perfect man.
“Thank you,” you smile, leaning into him after he's draped your coat over your shoulders. Your bag is still in his hand, the other rests on your hip.
He's perfection; The slope of his nose. It's almost impossible not to want to trace it with your finger. The line of his brow line, and the cut of his jaw leave you nearly always caught in awe of him. With your bottom lip caught between your teeth, you think he's far more handsome now than the day you met him. “Stop being so pretty. It hurts”
“It hurts?” He asks, waving goodbye to the team as he leads you towards the door. He's teasing you, a smile playing at his lips. Beneath the playful tone you hear the trace of his concern. Upset by the very thought of you any less than perfectly content.
“Oof,” you huff with a laugh, “quit blinding me with the smile handsome”
Your giggling only makes him smile more. Perfect.
#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner imagine#hotch x reader#criminal minds fic#answered#ask#requested#marchhotchness
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↪ day twelve. dinner party stories — #marchhotchness
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ❝ [family line] ❞
pairing: hotchner x fem!reader.
summary: he snickers when he secretly whispers you that and you’re sure this is the family you were born to be after all, it just took you a little while to find it. or: aaron shows what the unconditional love of a family should be like.
content warnings: not proofread, a lot of family issues brought up, weight gain mention (negatively once, then positively), reader's parents being annoying and kind of mean.
word count: 2.4K
aaron sees it in your eyes, in your breathing, in the way you move. he sees it in the way you’ve been playing more with your necklace and by how you can’t seem to stop spinning your engagement ring around your finger. he hasn’t seen you this anxious in months, and back then you were working on finishing your dissertation and it collided with the company you worked at losing clients, it was chaos. he knew right now there was no chaos in sight, so it could only mean one thing.
“honey, did you speak to your parents recently?” his voice is always as soft as a feather when talking to you, even in the rare instances you argue.
you turn from the scrabble pieces and set your wine glass down, not minding the interruption to the cozy game when his voice sounded like that and his eyes looked at you like you were something so precious you could break.
“no, babe, why d’you ask?”
“you’re fidgeting like an hyperactive kid who hasn’t been put on ritalin yet lately.” his explanation catches you off guard in a way that you almost reprehend him saying his name in a high pitched voice and slapping his arm in between laughter. his smirk shows you just how accomplished he feels that he made you laugh like that.
aaron takes both of your hands in his, kissing your knuckles and urging you to talk with him just by the way he looked into your eyes, eagerly waiting for you to vent about what was making you so restless.
“i haven’t told them about the engagement yet. i want to have them over for dinner, to share the news but they are so…” you sigh profoundly, looking up to the ceiling trying to finish that though in a way that made sense. “difficult.”
aaron knows what difficult really means. it means patronizing. it means unsupportive. unwilling. unhelpful. it doesn’t mean unloving, but it means old fashioned in a way that it feels unloving. “we could have dinner in a nice restaurant instead, to ease up some of that pressure.” he suggests, always the problem solver.
“it would be perfect, handsome, but we did that last time…” your voice trails off, laying your head on his lap, urging him to gently pass his fingers through your hair by that act alone, cozying up to him in an attempt to ignore the problem at hand.
hotch follows your lead, not forgetting to place a kiss on your forehead, but also, not letting the problem go. “and my dear future mother in law will start dropping hints again that we don’t want them here.” you nod quietly. “alright. don’t call. text her inviting them over with the details. less talking.”
you groan, “she will complain about that too…”
“once they’re here.” he kisses your forehead, “so it’s only one,” and your nose, “night,” your right cheek, “of,” your left cheek, and you’re already grinning like an idiot, holding in your laughter at his boyishness, “complaining.” aaron finishes, brushing his lips against yours. you nod and pull your head up slightly, finally connecting you two in a sweet slow kiss.
you get your big girl pants on after a delicious making out session with your fiance, the scrabble pieces long forgotten as you gulp down your whole glass of wine and pick up your phone. his hair is messy, his cheeks are flushed and he grins at you with reassurance pouring from his sweet eyes as you send your mother the text, throwing your phone back to the table before seeing a response and going back straight to his arms.
he made it easier, always. helped you sort your feelings out, helped you find out the less stressing way to solve your problems. it was a joy to have him, to watch how he talked to jack and see how it should be.
more often than you would like to admit, you caught yourself thinking wow my parents would not let that slide, and then you would be faced with the reality that they were in the wrong, not aaron.
you talked to him about it once, asked how could he be so sweet and so effortlessly so to jack, his answer came quickly, no hesitation: jack had lost enough, losing his trust on his dad was not something aaron would let happen, he didn’t want jack to go through what he had as a child.
then it clicked to you once more, how you would never want to treat your hypothetical children like you had been treated too.
you try not to think too much about these things too often nowadays, but even as you laid on aaron’s chest and felt his fingers lightly, softly, trace designs on your skin, now all you could think about was the damned dinner.
your mom wasn’t too judgy when it came to what you cooked, your dad was and annoyingly so, always had some remark about what would have made the food better, just like he did to your mother back home.
so first thing you did the next morning was think through all dinners and remarks and find something you could do following his tips to lessen the complaining, aaron’s idea, of course.
“he always says my lasagna is delicious but too dry,” you mumble to yourself, but not really, you have your earphones on and aaron on call, in the office doing reports he was able to entertain you as you picked up ingredients for extra sauce.
you can hear him smiling, the sound of his aggressive pen on paper stopping for a second, “even rossi loves your lasagna, it is delicious. just give your father a bowl full of sauce, he will be happier.” you snort and he goes back to his papers, satisfied to have made you laugh through the stress.
gathering the rest of the ingredients is easy enough, you’re already used to the grocery store’s layout and setup, you keep him on the line either way, a tradition you both kept whenever you were doing monotonous tasks, even when he didn’t speak, listening to his breathing, the shuffling of papers and his pen quickly making work through all his reports made you smile, calmed you down.
hotch thought it was silly at first, but quickly warmed up to it when he heard you softly, secretive so, humming songs to yourself as you worked on your own reports, or went shopping, not to mention how adorable he found you to be when you forgot he was on the line and jumped scared as he spoke something.
most of all, he loved being immersed in a paper trail and being surprised by a hey i love you right in his ear as if you were there.
it pained him to know how much of yourself you tried to mute down to please your parents when he loved every single tiny piece of what made you… you.
hotch excused himself from the call to talk to rossi just as you were about to go back home, satisfied you convinced him to get rossi’s sauce recipe.
“hers is great, why does she need mine?” rossi sound almost exasperated, as if hotch himself had said something about your cooking. he is quick to reassure that’s not the case and explain how you’re trying to please your father, dave doesn’t seem that much happier about it, always pleased with the dishes you made for dinner parties at his mansion, but he still takes his phone and sends you a voice note explaining each step of his homemade tomato sauce. “anything else?”
“i need a favor as well. i’m gonna need the next weekend off for this.” hotch begins, he knows rossi would never mind that, no one would, in fact most people from the bureau agreed he needed time off. “i know myself enough, i need to be completely off, no calls, no briefings.” he’s learnt his lesson from too many past mistakes, if he knows the case, if he knows the team needs him, he will be putting his job above anything else, aaron can’t afford to do that anymore, so he prevents it.
his left thumb rubs the side of his index finger, his way to calm his racing thoughts, just the possibility of ruining this dinner has him anxious, this little habit of his was something he hadn’t even noticed he did before he met you. it was one of his tells and he never realized before you took his hand in yours and looked sweetly into his eyes saying you’re stimming, what’s wrong? in the softest tone he had ever heard anyone speak to him.
you were always quick to notice if anyone around you didn’t feel well, always a caretaker, it was a sight to take in and a pain to prove you so, being seen as selfish your whole life at home.
that day he got home late, jack was doing his homework with your help while you worked on a few things on your laptop—a presentation you needed to finish soon as possible to get the next friday off.
his office had become a shared office with your help, a u shaped desk where both of you could work being one of the first changes you made to it as soon as you moved in, it was perfect and it gave jack space to sit close to either of you when he needed help.
the sides faced the walls while and front faced the window where you and jack sat, focused, it gave hotch time to lean in the door frame and watch you both.
“i’m not sure about that one, jack-jack…” you stop typing to read the question in his book again, impressed with how little you remember of school math. “if i google this up, promise not to tell your teacher?” aaron clears his throat at the question, catching your attention and making you laugh: caught in the act.
“no google, buddy, sorry.” jack scrunches his nose at his father’s ruling out, a loud groan coming from his pre teen little voice.
“told ya we should have started this earlierrrr—“ you tease the boy, insinuating you two would have been able to find the answer online without his dad knowing then, you ruffle his short hair softly, loving the endearing smile he always gives you when you do that.
his smile quickly turns into a yawn, the weight of the time stamped on aaron’s watch getting to jack’s eyes, “i’m sleepy.”
“‘you can finish tomorrow, let’s get you two to bed, buddy.”
hotch picks jack up and the young hotchner is nothing but a ball of giggles, always saying he’s too big for that now, but obviously still loving the attention.
“enjoy while you can, jack-jack, your old man is not getting any younger.”
“yeah? i’m carrying your ass to bed soon too, my back can handle you both for years still.” you and jack both laugh at him. it’s always almost as if a harsh mask melted when he got home, in its place would remain his soft features and the bickering you loved so dearly.
it was warm. and kind. even when he came back home stressed, you never had to worry about accidentally setting him off or saying the wrong thing. it was a completely different dynamic than what you were used to.
it takes a few minutes for hotch to come back, but he comes ready to make true of his promise, hands straight to your waist to carry you, tickling his way into your defenses, he laughs at your laughter and at how easy you melt to his touch. “i’m just finishing this up, babyy—“ your voice is purposefully whiny, pouting at him and getting a kiss in return, “go eat your dinner while i do it, i heated it up when i got your text!”
he stops trying to pull you up his shoulder or around his waist then, the look he gives you then reminds you of why you fell for him: sweet like caramel, always betraying his known frown.
aaron looks at you like every act of kindness you do makes him fall in love again, and it does. he traces your features with his thumb in silence, the mix of his calloused fingers and the softness of his actions makes you sigh, leaning into it.
“i love you. i love our little family.” he kisses your forehead and leaves you to your presentation before you can even reply, before you can’t even tell him the two hotchner boys are the first healthy family you’ve ever been in.
you don’t even mind your dad complaining about your lasagna having way too much sauce the week after. aaron eats for the both of them, compliments every single decision you made while cooking.
the second your mother tells you you’ve been gaining weight, aaron replies with a simple “if anything, we’re both getting bigger and happier.” a squeeze tight to your knee, stopping you from tearing up at how that was the only thing your mother did notice.
they seemed happy about the engagement, but not too sure you’ll be able to care for him and his child as they needed to be cared for. you’re forgetful. you’re not maternal. you worry about work too much.
you’re not even sure how good news could lead to such rambling about your flaws but again, before you can either cry or lose control and yell—aaron comes in, his soft smile being completely betrayed by his furrowed brows and stern tone. he’s trying to be polite. “we take care of each other well, and together we care for jack. it works. we work.”
it’s simple but effective, what he wants is to shield you, to tell them how lucky they are you grew up as kind and hardworking when all they did was bring you down and doubt your feelings and your dreams.
he wants to show them drawings jack made of you and essays he wrote about his family.
but for now he settles on being polite. there’s still the whole wedding preparation and the actual wedding to go through. he has time to do all that. right now he just makes sure to show you and them how much he supports you and how nothing they can ever say will change how he sees you.
at least he’s glad his mother is dead, one less problematic in law to deal with.
he snickers when he secretly whispers you that and you’re sure this is the family you were born to be after all, it just took you a little while to find it.
#lari writes sometimes#lari march hotchness#marchhotchness#just about a month late#i was going to write the whole dinner then i was like you know what#no need#aaron hotch x reader#aaron hotch x you#aaron hotch imagine#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner x you#aaron hotchner imagine#criminal minds x reader#hotch x reader#hotch x you#hotch imagine#hotch scenario
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“After Hours”
Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x F!Reader
Summary: After ignoring orders on a case, Hotch calls you into his office to teach you an important lesson: there's no 'I' in team. (Highly Explicit)
Warnings: smut, p in v, blindfolds, bindings, delayed orgasm, vibrators, light choking, nipple clamps, dom!aaron hotchner
Words: 5.4k
Read on AO3:
Your spine stiffens as he calls your name. His voice is flat, but you know that tone. Just your name on his lips is an order all its own.
Derek’s eyes meet yours as you rise from your desk. “Good luck,” he whispers, though you’re the only two in the bullpen. You’d stayed late to finish paperwork after the closing of your most recent case before the weekend.“Nothing good ever comes from that tone.”
You smooth the front of your skirt and adjust the front of the button-up blouse that’s tucked into it. You thank Morgan as you pass his desk and he nods before hunching back over the file he’d been working on. Swallowing your nerves, you ascend the stairs toward his office. The blinds are shut, but the yellow light of the lamps peeks out from around the edges.
Hesitantly, you rap your knuckles against the door.
“Come in,” Hotch answers.
You do as he says and he doesn’t look up from the file on his desk. “Shut the door.”
Again, you do as you’re told and stand awkwardly by it, awaiting further instruction.
“Sit.”
He doesn’t indicate where you should sit; the couch or one of the two leather backed chairs in front of his desk. You choose the chair closest to the door and cross your legs, and hope he can’t hear how hard your heart is hammering against your ribcage.
“You went into that warehouse, alone, before we could confirm whether the unsub was there.”
“Sir—”
“Don’t interrupt,” he orders and you clamp your lips shut. “I understand that your actions resulted in saving that girl’s life. You were able to control the bleeding until medics could arrive. Your actions, brave as they were, were reckless and stupid.”
His words sting and you have to fight to school your facial expression, but you can feel the crimson rush of embarrassment flood your cheeks.
“You got lucky,” he continues, his voice hard. “We were able to apprehend the unsub as he was returning, but you had no idea if he was there or not. You didn’t wait for backup. We work as a team, you know this. The minute we start acting on impulse is the minute one of us gets hurt, or worse.” His eyes are steeled when they meet yours. “Do you understand?”
You nod your head, “Yessir.”
“Good,” he responds curtly.
“This can’t happen again,” he says, rising from his chair. Your eyes follow his movements as he shrugs out of his blazer and tosses it over his desk onto the vacant chair beside you. He steps from behind his desk and slowly approaches you, rolling the cuffs of his sleeves as he does so. He moves behind you and the click of him removing the paddle holster from his belt causes you to jump and you curse yourself for flinching.
“Something on your mind, agent?” he asks as he tosses his weapon onto the chair beside you.
You straighten your posture and answer him with as much nonchalance as you can muster. “No, sir. I’m just wondering if this will result in a write up or other form of disciplinary action.”
“As far as the Bureau is concerned, you saved that girl’s life. A meeting with me is all that’s needed to review your actions.” The soles of his dress shoes click against the tile and you feel his presence behind you.
“Whether you feel like another disciplinary action is necessary is entirely up to you.”
He always leaves the decision-making to you, but if this happens, it’ll be the first time it’s ever happened in his office, at your place of work. The thought terrifies you, but thrills you all the same.
So you dip your chin in the slightest of nods and the click of the lock on his door solidifies what’s about to happen.
“Good girl.”
Your nipples harden at the sound of his praise and you splay your fingers against your thighs, pressing the tips of your fingers into the muscle to keep yourself under control. Your body betrays you though as you feel your underwear dampen, your arousal building already. God, fuck him and his ability to do this to you with words alone.
His shoes click against the floor as he nears you and the hairs on your neck stand on end. You watch, eyes hungry, as he removes his necktie. He steps behind you once more and the familiar feel of silk over your eyes is almost a comfort as he secures it at the back of your head. With one sense cut off, you immediately feel your arousal’s intensity increase tenfold and you nearly want to cry out and come right then and there. Only he had this effect on you. Only he could do this to you.
Your chest is already heaving as you feel his hands slide over your shoulders and his mouth finds your ear. He inhales deeply and exhales slowly, his breath hot on your skin. “What’s your safe word?”
“Sage,” you breathe quietly.
“Good girl,” he murmurs and his hands slide over your breasts. You try to moan, but his hand quickly clamps over your mouth, firmly, but not enough to hurt you. His lips find your ear again, “Derek’s gone home for the night but Rossi is working late right behind that wall.” You can’t see it, but you know exactly how close his office is in proximity to Rossi’s. “So, keep quiet.” His hands slide over the fabric of your bra and you squirm against them. “Or I’ll have to gag that pretty little mouth.”
You swallow and nod to affirm your understanding. Your hands have moved to the arms of the leather chair, your fingers pressing into the material as you await his next move. Slowly, he unbuttons the first few buttons of your blouse and you shiver as the backs of his knuckles brush against your skin as he does so.
He slips his hands inside your bra and just holds both of your breasts for a moment, his thumbs skirting over the peaks of your sensitive nipples. You whimper and hear the soft laugh rumble from his lips. “Like diamonds,” he muses regarding the hardened tips and lifts both of your breasts, using the backs of his hands to push down the fabric of the cups so they sit prominently atop the underwire.
He hums low in his throat and your throat bobs. You feel his presence shift away from you. A drawer opens and items shuffle around. Something is turning and a soft click echoes in the room. “I figured it was only a matter of time before this happened in the office, so I tucked away a few…” he pauses as he draws nearer, “provisions.”
His cologne invades your senses, the cedar-based scent is intoxicating. He draws something small and metallic across your chest and a soft whimper escapes your lips. “Do you know what this is?” he asks, and you can hear the smile on his lips.
You lick your lips and whisper, “Yes.”
His fingers brush along one of your breasts and you inhale sharply as he rolls your sensitive nipple between his fingers. Your back arches slightly against the chair and you feel the dampness between your thighs begin to spread. You squeeze your legs together to try and assuage the ache to no avail.
“I’ve hardly touched you and you’re already falling to pieces,” he murmurs as he nips at the skin of your breast. You hiss and barely stifle a yelp as the nipple clamp pinches into place. Instinctively, your body jerks forward and Hotch chuckles as he catches you. He flicks the now-swollen nipple and you bury your face into the fabric of his dress shirt to keep from shouting. The sharp sting of the clamp compounds your pleasure and you know what comes next, but nothing ever prepares you for the pinch of the second clamp. You bite down into the muscle of his pectoral through his shirt to stifle the yelp that escapes your lips, hissing and moaning as the feeling overwhelms your senses. The growl that Hotch emits in response is primal. Your fingernails dig into his shoulders and you don’t even remember when you had thrown your arms around him.
His hands slide up and over your arms. He curves his hands to cuff around your wrists. “As much as I love your mouth on me,” he says darkly, his hold tightening. His nose pushes into your hair as he brings his lips to your ears. “I didn’t give you permission to touch me.”
There’s no time to gasp as he pulls you to your feet and whirls you around so that your back presses into him, and you feel him pressing against you. The quick jostling causes the clamps to tighten and your nipples protest the pulling sensation. Hotch threads his arms through yours and palms your breasts, the warmth of his hands momentarily soothing the sting of the clamps. His fingers slide down your stomach to unbutton the remainder of your shirt, which he then pulls down and discards absentmindedly; leaving you in your knee-length pencil skirt and black stilettos. Your exposed skin bristles in the cool air conditioning.
“Hands behind your back,” he instructs and you do as you’re told.
“Good girl,” he praises. Your ears prick as he unbuckles his belt, and you feel the throbbing at your core increase. He loops the belt around your wrists and pulls the leather taught, binding them together.
He tugs the belt, indicating you to follow his movements and you do so. He guides you, one hand on the belt, and one on your back. Slowly, he pushes his hand forward along your spine, urging you to bend forward. Your breasts press into the wood of his desk and he pushes his pelvis against your ass, a soft moan escaping his lips as he presses his dick into the curve of your hip.
“I wonder,” he purrs as he releases his grip on the belt. You pull at the leather wrapped around your wrists, hoping to brush your fingers against his hands and miss them. He chuckles as his hand curves around your hip. His fingers drop below the waistband of your skirt and you squeeze your thighs together as they continue to dip between your legs. “Just as I thought,” he says. His fingers pass over your clit and even through your panties, the brief brush sends thousands of tiny bursts of energy pulsing through your nerve endings. You jerk forward against his hand and he chuckles. “So wet,” he hums. “I bet you’d love for me to take you right here, right now over my desk, and fuck you from behind until you remember there’s no ‘I’ in team.” His hand gently curves around the column of your throat, his fingers pressing gently into the sides of your neck as he draws you up to your full height. The movement causes the clamps to tighten around your nipples and you bite down on your lip to keep from crying out. “Would you like that?”
You nod against his grip on your throat and feel your knees begin to shake, almost buckling. “Come on, baby,” he sings into your ear. “You know it’s not that easy.”
A pitiful whimper leaves your lips and you feel the laugh rumbling from deep within him. Hotch’s fingers drop from your hip and you miss the feeling already, even though you know it’ll only be moments before it’s back.
Suddenly, a buzz fills the air and you nearly fall to your knees when Hotch touches the vibrator to the swell of your breast. His reflexes are quicker than lightning as his hand drops from your throat so he can loop his arm around your waist to keep you from falling.
“If you’re that sensitive up here,” Hotch murmurs as he touches the vibrator once more to your breast. You gasp in response and he chuckles low in his throat. “I can only wonder,” he touches the vibrator to your navel and begins to drag it down the length of your abdomen, “what happens when I touch you down here.”
The vibrator grazes the fabric of your panties just north of your clit and you gasp aloud, an inhuman sound erupting from your lips. Hotch quickly lifts the vibrator and pulls you taut against his body as he falls into the chair behind his desk. Securely rooted on his lap, the hand around your waist snakes around your chest and covers your mouth. He kisses the hollow of your throat before his lips find your ear. “What did I say about keeping quiet?”
You swallow and mumble an apology followed by ‘sir,” and you feel his erection twitch against your thigh. A devious smile plays upon your lips and he can feel against his hand. He knows that you’re aware of how much power you have over him, but he’s about to do the same.
The vibrator dances along your thigh and your legs quake against his as you tuck your feet around his calves to hold yourself as steady as you’re able to.
“That’s right baby, anchor yourself against me.”
Your skirt rolls up your legs as you squirm against him and that only makes it easier for him to access the part of you he so desperately craves and you so desperately need him to touch.
He touches the vibrator to the southernmost part of you and you gasp against his hand as your body bucks against the sensation. Slowly, he drags the vibrator up your center and you feel the buzz like electricity in your veins. When it touches your clit, you moan. Hotch responds by lowering the speed of the vibrator to draw out the pleasure.
“Your moaning is music to me,” he murmurs as he kisses the column of your throat. Your chest heaves against his arm as he circles that tight bundle of nerves in small circles. “It tells me how much you’re enjoying this. Tell me,” he says, and his voice is low in his throat. “Are you enjoying this?”
You nod quickly against his hand and cry out against the palm of his hand as you feel the pressure in your abdomen begin to blossom.
“Do you want to come?” he asks. The hand over your mouth is still there, and he strokes your cheek with his thumb.
Again, you nod vigorously.
The pressure is building, that familiar warmth spreading through you. Your chest heaves. Your breaths become shallower as you cope with the budding orgasm. Just as the wave is about to crest, Hotch switches the vibrator off and pulls it away, halting the wave in its tracks.
You buck forward as the denial immediately sets in, leaving you wanting, needing more. Your clit throbs, pulsating against the damp fabric of your panties and you can only picture the smug look on Hotch’s face. He thinks he’s got you right where he wants you, but you know how to play this game too.
His erection sits right against your ass. Ensuring your feet are tucked tightly around his calves, you tighten your abdomen and roll your body, allowing your ass to grind against the entire length of him. His grip on you loosens as pleasure courses through him. He’d not been expecting that. You continue to grind against him and you feel each twitch of his dick beneath you. A tight moan escapes his lips, and you moan in response knowing it’ll get him all the more excited.
You feel him tilt his pelvis, leaning into the movement. He lowers his hand as he groans into your ear and a grin splits your lips. You turn your head and press a kiss at the corner of his lips.
“It’s not my turn,” Hotch murmurs, though it turns into more of a grunt as you continue working him through his pants
“I thought this was to remind me there’s no ‘I’ in team,” you say coyly. If you weren’t blindfolded, you’d be batting your lashes at him because you know it makes him weak.
“You’re right,” Hotch answers. “We are a team.” The vibrator switches back and the sound stops you in your tracks, which simultaneously earns a frustrated sound from him. “And because I’m such a good team player,” he touches it to the spot just above your clit, which elicits a sharp whimper from you. His hand covers your mouth and he pulls you against him. In your ear he growls, “I’m going to skip my turn and let you have fun for a little while longer.”
You grind against the toy, passing it again and again over your clit. He’s allowing you to set the pace and you want to touch him, god you want to touch him. You pull against his belt around your wrists and whimper. “Let me out of these,” you pant against his hand. You want to run your fingers through his hair, and scratch your nails along his back. Hotch chuckles and you feel his cock jerk against you. “Not quite yet,” he murmurs, and it’s strained. He’s close too. If he didn’t let you out soon, he’d be cleaning up a mess inside his pants.
You groan as heat pools in your belly. Your aching clit throbs and you increase your pace; grinding against it and Hotch.
“Go ahead, baby,” he entices. “Come for me.”
Your chest heaves, your nipples straining against the clamps which only causes that wave to build even faster. The pressure builds quicker than you can keep up with. You lose the rhythm, but you don’t stop chasing that high. When the wave peaks, Hotch doesn’t pull the vibrator away. Instead, the pressure builds and builds until it has no choice but to release. You ride the vibrator through your orgasm until you collapse completely into his hold around you, your body jerking uncontrollably as the aftershocks pass through your body. The vibrator clicks off and you hear him set it down on the desk with a dull thud.
He drops his hand from your mouth and says nothing for a moment as you take deep breaths.
“Lean forward,” he orders quietly, and you do. His fingers make quick work of the belt around your wrists. Once loose, he drops it on the floor beside you and you bring your arms in front of you. The thick corded muscles that make up his arms thread through yours and he gently palms your breasts. You exhale sharply as he undoes the clamps around your nipples. With the tips of his fingers, he delivers a short series of massaging movements against the tender flesh. Finally, his fingers trail the sides of your face. They hook beneath the lip of the blindfold and gently pull it up and over your eyes.
You blink a few times to allow your eyes to adjust to the dim lamp-lighting and your eyes quickly land on his deep brown gaze. His lids are hooded as he looks at you, no that’s not the word, as he admires you. Your cheeks flush and you lean forward to kiss his lips. They part instantly for you and you slide your tongue into his mouth. You slip your arms around his neck and deepen the kiss. He groans into your mouth in response.
“I love the way you taste,” you mumble against his mouth.
You feel his lips smile against yours. “Nowhere near as good as you.”
You drop your hands to his shoulders and let your fingers find their way to the buttons of his dress shirt. You nip at his chest, leaving a purplish-red mark just beside his nipple. Your fingers brush the scars long since healed over from his run-in with Foyet as you explore his chest and abdomen with your hands. You need to feel all of him, to make him feel as good as he makes you feel.
Hotch slips his hands under your ass as you undo the buttons of his tailored slacks. His erection forces the zipper open before you get the chance to unzip it, tenting his boxer briefs.
Eagerly, you hook your fingers into the hem of his Calvin Kleins and pull down. He lifts his hips, with you on top of him, so you can jerk them down. His cock bounces up against his abdomen, pearls of pre-cum beading at the tip of his length. You eye it hungrily, but before you go any further you unhook your legs from around his and shimmy out of your skirt and panties. You unclasp your bra and let it fall to the floor, not minding where it lands. When you return to sit on his lap, you slide your legs through each of the arms of his office chair and press your slick cunt against the length of his erection.
His head tips back as a low groan escapes his lips. You press your lips to the hollow of his throat before moving to suckle gently at his collarbone. The benefit of wearing a suit and tie day in and day out means you can mark him as much as you want and no one is the wiser. No one besides him and you that is.
You curve your hand around his cock. Slowly, you begin to pump him in your hand. As you gingerly massage his length, you press your breasts against his chest as you lie flat against him to whisper in his ear, “I think you’re ready to take me now.”
You smile as his eyes screw shut as you have him literally in the palm of your hand. You always love watching the tables turn when you play this game. Hotch nods and grunts out an enthusiastic, “Yes!”
“Very well,” you purr into his ear.
Standing on the tips of your toes, you keep your hand wrapped around his cock and guide him to your entrance. As the blunt tip of his cock slides easily inside of you, you begin to sink down onto the length of him.
You both moan as he fills you, the width of his cock stretching your tight walls.
“God,” you gasp as you dig your nails into the skin of his shoulder blades.
“No baby,” Hotch breathes. “He’s not in this room tonight. It’s just you,” he kisses you once, “and me.”
You roll onto the balls of your feet and push yourself up before sinking back onto your heels. This helps you get used to the feeling of his cock filling and stretching you.
“Find what feels good,” Hotch says. “You set the pace.”
You repeat the motion again, except this time leaning forward just so that his dick strokes against your g-spot with each thrust. From there you begin a steady rhythm, riding him at a pace where you can still manage to kiss one another without breaking your teeth as you get lost in the throes of endorphins and hormones.
Eventually, you feel that familiar pressure begin to build and his fingers squeeze into your hips. He’s nearing his own climax.
“I want you to come with me,” he whispers against your mouth. “I’m close.”
“Help me get there, then,” you tease.
Hotch releases one of your hips and snakes his arm around your waist. His fingers find your clit without guidance and he begins teasing the tight bundle of nerves. For a split second, you lose the rhythm, but he helps you get it back by pumping his hips up to stroke that spot inside. The dual sensation is almost too much to bear, but as he begins to slam his cock up and into you, you know it won’t be very long now. You clutch at his shoulder blades, and he hisses as you dig your nails in deeper.
“Come for me, Hotch,” you plead. As your orgasm builds, you feel his breathing become erratic. “Aaron, I know you want to come in me.” You know using his first name drives him wild.
He grunts and drops his hand back to your hip, his grip bruising as he slams you down onto his cock. Each thrust strikes your g-spot and as his entire being locks up and his orgasm rattles through his body and pulses into you, your release follows almost immediately after.
You stay like that for a minute or two, a tangle of limbs. His arms wrap around your back, his palms flat against your slightly damp skin. He kisses your cheek once and helps lift you off his cock. You groan as he leaves you, and slickness from your combined arousal drips down your thighs.
Completely spent, he carefully stands, ensuring your legs don’t get stuck beneath the arms of his desk chair. Your legs feel like jelly, shaking and trembling as he lets go of you. He fastens the buttons on his slacks and tugs his dress shirt on, buttoning it haphazardly. A tired laugh escapes you as he scoops you into his arms and carries you to the leather sofa against the far wall of his office. He gently places you down and tucks his suit jacket over your shoulders. He presses a soft kiss to your temple. “I’ll be right back.”
He ducks out of the room, careful to use his key and lock the door from the outside as he does so.
Your eyelids are heavy, and it takes everything in you not to tuck into the corner of the sofa and fall asleep right then and there. However, you don’t think the weekend cleaning crew would ever recover if they opened his office in the morning and saw you in this state.
The sound of his key in the lock brings you back to reality. You tug Hotch’s jacket tighter around you as the AC chills your sweat-dampened skin. He smiles at you as he enters the office. Hands full, he quietly shuts the door with his foot before approaching you.
He drops your go-bag by your feet and places two bottles of water on the table in front of you. He retrieves his own bag from beside his desk.
“I figured you’d want a change of clothes,” he says as he sits next to you on the couch.
“Astute observation,” you reply cheekily, though there’s a tiredness to your voice now.
He smirks in turn, “Come here.” He slips an arm around the small of your back, places his palm flat against your hip, and easily scoops you into his lap. He pulls his go bag onto the couch and unzips it. After rummaging for a few moments, he pulls out a small container of wipes, a washcloth, and a small container of something you can’t quite make out.
The lid on the container of wipes clicks open. He brushes your hair over your shoulder and begins to wipe down the back of your neck, your shoulders, and back; clearing the sweat away. He does the same to your chest, your breasts, and thighs. The wipe is cool against your skin and a chill runs down your spine.
He slides out from behind you, getting on his knees before you. He presses soft kisses to your inner thigh before using a fresh wipe to clean you up. “I’m sorry I don’t have something more formal,” he says with a soft smile. “You can take a proper shower at my apartment.”
You arch an eyebrow at that. “I’m coming home with you, now?”
He tilts his head. “Only if you want to.” He unzips your bag and pulls out a pair of gray sweatpants, the ones you take on every trip. He guides your feet through each leg and you reach to pull them up the rest of the way. He kisses the corner of your mouth as you bend down and his suit jacket falls aside revealing the marks he’d left on your breasts.
He sits and pulls you between his legs once more. This time he screws open the container he’d left sitting on the sofa. He scoops a small amount of the gel onto his fingers and rubs them together. “Lie back against me,” he says gently and he doesn’t have to say it twice. You roll back into the wide plane of his chest and let your head loll to the side. Your eyelids feel so heavy and you’d love to just curl up in his lap and fall asleep just like that. When the gel hits the sensitive skin of your nipples, you gasp.
“Shh,” he soothes as he rubs the gel onto your sore nipples. The movement is not sexual, but methodical, therapeutic even. There’s a cooling component to the gel and relief courses through the sensitive skin there.
He caps the jar, wipes his fingers on the washcloth, and pulls his hoodie out of your go bag. The letters ‘FBI’ were barely legible after how many dozens of washes it’d been through. The front pocket was barely hanging on and there was a hole in one armpit, but somehow the old thing held together. Hotch had considered his hoodie from the academy a good luck charm of sorts. He’d kept it with him his entire career with the Bureau, but when you first started seeing one another and you’d borrowed it after a night at his house, there was never any doubt that you should have it. He didn’t need it anymore, not with you around. He’d have all the luck he ever needed so long as you were there with him.
“What are you smiling at?” you ask as you let him help you out of his suit jacket and tug on the faded hoodie.
He passes you a bottle of water before he wraps his arms around you and buries his face in the crook of your neck. You place the bottle on the couch beside him and lay your head against his and squeeze his forearm with your hands. “Just how lucky I am,” he answers.
You close your eyes and lean into his hold, letting the warmth of his body seep into yours.
He sits up suddenly, jostling you. “I meant to ask, did you want an ice pack? I think I might’ve held onto your hips a bit too hard there at the end.”
You arch an eyebrow and turn in his lap to loop your arms around his neck. You smile before kissing the downward slope of his nose. “My hips are fine, especially when they’re in your hands.
His thumb strokes your hip in response as he looks down at you from beneath his dark lashes. “Are you ready to get out of here?”
You nod. “Do you think if we order a pizza from the car, it’ll get there before us?”
Hotch smiles and helps you to your feet. He quickly gathers the things from your ‘lesson’ into the lockbox and tucks them into his go bag. He gathers your discarded clothes from around his office and tucks them into your bag. After he passes you the water bottle you’d discarded, he shoulders yours and his go bags. You’ll do laundry at his place over the weekend and repack it for the upcoming week.
He stretches an empty hand towards you, “Ready to go?”
You intertwine your fingers with his and squeeze. With the hand holding yours, he pulls you against his tall frame, the movement quick and unexpected. He captures your lips in a deep, final kiss. His arm is secure around the small of your back and you lean against it, gaze locked on his as you do so.
“Hey,” you breathe as you catch your breath. “Hotch?”
“Aaron,” he corrects with an arc of his dark brow.
“Aaron,” you repeat, drawing out his name, smiling as you see his own smile widen after using his first name.
His eyes search yours, and you let yours drop to his lips. “I’m still not sure I’ve learned my lesson.” You look up at him from beneath your lashes and bat them two, three times.
He kisses you again, both sets of your lips smiling as you fail to make it to the door. He pulls away with a breathless laugh, steps towards, and unlocks the door. As he opens it with his free hand he smiles at you, “Good thing your boss gave the team the weekend off.”
#aaron hotchner#aaron hotch x reader#aaron hotch fanfiction#aaron hotch x you#aaron hotch smut#aaron hotch fic#x reader#female reader#smut#fanfic#criminal minds#criminal minds fanfiction#drabble#bau team#bau reader#marchhotchness#f!reader
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For the Marchhotchness writing challenge by @hotchfiles
—
14. [PROMPT] Eye of the Beholder
Hotch had a reputation within the bureau that he was harsh and unflinching, certain events in his life and plenty of water cooler gossip only sought to highlight that, spinning rumours around until he came out an emotionless robot.
The team sometimes saw a softer, more relaxed version during meals at Dave’s or when he was interacting with Jack, but you were the only one fortunate enough to see Aaron with all his walls down. That trust was something you would cherish forever.
—
As the steam cleared off the bathroom mirror Aaron noticed you leaning against the door frame, hair ruffled from sleep, shorts hanging low on your waist, you looked wonderfully cosy.
‘Sorry love I didn’t mean to wake you’ he spoke softly trying to not disrupt the sleepy atmosphere, hoping he would be able to convince you back into bed.
‘You’re back early’ shuffling forwards you wrapped your arms around his waist resting your forehead between his shoulders, putting his hands on top of yours he felt the last bits of tension leave his body
‘Mhhm, everyone just wanted to get home.’
‘Bedtime Aaron’
‘Lead the way sweetheart’
#marchhotchness#my writing#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner fanfic#aaron hotch hotchner#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds#criminal minds fanfic#aaron hotchner x male reader
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what makes hotch so appealing to you?
this is for day 15 of the marchhotchness event by @hotchfiles bc i always want an excuse to rant about why i love aaron hotchner 🫶🏻
to me, aaron = safety & comfort.
he looks like someone who no matter what the problem is he’s gonna deal with it. he’s a “we’ll figure it out together” man. you can count on him!! it just feels like he has all the answers! i’d never be scared if i had him by my side. imagine being loved by this man. it’s just !!!!
i love the “dad of the group” vibe he has. bc once again it’s that protective energy that drives me crazy. and makes me wanna be special to him.
he’s been through so so much. he’s so strong. the woman he loved was murdered and he’ll always feel responsible for that even if it wasn’t his fault. he saw her dead and had to be calm enough to comfort his son - NOT EVEN KNOWING IF HE’D FIND HIM ALIVE!
everything is always falling on him and yet he never complains? he feels like he’s not enough, he has so much on his shoulders but he only talks about it to haley in that dream he had :( “it gets hard. and i’m alone.” and yet he keeps doing his best for jack and for his team.
he’s a sweet and patient dad to jack. carrying a picture of him and haley to his trips, watching videos of him and smiling, kissing him goodnight, making cookies with him, hugging him, helping him with his halloween costumes, visiting his teacher to keep up with how he’s doing at school 🥹
he has the reputation that he’s tough and serious and all that, which like…yeah he is. he’s scary. but to the people he loves? pls let’s see how he is with penelope who is his soft spot. every time he comforted her 🥹 when he stayed with her bc she was sad and they cooked together!! when he told her she’s special and wouldn’t want her to change! when he didn’t get mad at reid for calling him a narcissist and choosing him bc he didn’t look at things selfishly. he could have been offended but his only concern was getting spencer back safe so he knew he was lying. when he was so protective of emily and said “if anything happens to her i will destroy you”. when jj was pregnant and he was so hurt she didn’t tell him :( he’s doing his best to be supportive and protective of them and he still feels like an outsider probably :( when he went to elle’s house to clean the blood off her wall. the tough love he gave to morgan bc he wanted to protect the team and make him leader of the group. he felt responsible for everyone.
and i mentioned this again but he’s lonely :( and lonely characters have my heart. you can have family and friends and still feel lonely sometimes and i think that’s aaron. and i wish i could take that away and never let him feel lonely ever again.
and ofc another thing that makes him appealing to me is that he is the most beautiful man i’ve ever seen in my entire life 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰
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For the Rest of My Life
Words: 1.5k
Reader has an anxiety attack at work, and Hotch helps her through it. Very soft Hotch.
You knew today was going to be a hard day. You woke up, hair caked to your forehead and your legs felt like jelly, like you were not meant to be walking on them. As you sat up, your entire room spun around and it took more than a couple minutes to ground yourself. You knew what to do in times like this, you had your useful skills learned over the years tucked away in the folder in your brain, but today it felt like the cabinet holding them was locked.
You walked into the bullpen, eyes foggy and head down. Usually, you greeted everyone with a happy and hopeful smile, but today that felt too hard. The muscles in your face felt like they would snap if you tried even to talk. Derek looked up at you, and over at Emily trying to gauge the problem, but Emily just shook her head no and let you sit at your desk, forget about all that was going on in your brain, and throw yourself into the reports that were due. You sat there for a few hours, with no one bothering you and your focused workspace. It was very easy when everything felt like this to throw yourself into work or a project because it makes the mind stay busy. It’s when you have nothing to do that everything feels like it's going to come crashing down around you. It’s when you have nothing to do that it creeps up to the surface and begins to slip out, mostly without your control.
You were so focused you didn't hear the familiar sound of steps creep up behind you until an arm was placed gently on your shoulder.
“Hey, I know what you’re doing, and I would like to see you in my office ASAP,” Hotch said to you, he leaned down to say it in your ear so no one else could hear. He knew that allowing everyone to hear what he said would make this all worse on your end.
You didn’t think twice, you got up from your workspace, pushed the chair in behind you, and followed closely behind him. You realized as you walked behind him how tall he was, and how well fitted his suits always are. You start to wonder where he buys them before you realize how far your mind has wandered in the minute it takes to get to his office.
“Have a seat, and tell me what's on your mind.” He sits in his chair and motions for you to sit down in the chair across from him. You feel the tears slip out before you even hit the chair. You knew this would happen at some point today, but Hotch actually taking the time to pay attention to you, to realize something was wrong enough to come out of his office and grab you, made the tears sting just a little bit more.
“Oh no, sweetheart what is going on?” He immediately jumped up and rushed around his desk to you the minute he saw the tears falling from your eyes.
“It's just… it's just a hard day for me is all.” You sniffled and tried to wipe your tears but he brushed your hand aside and wiped them for you. He placed his hand on your knee as he bent down beside you, looking up into your eyes.
“Is it your anxiety?” He asked, you could tell his voice was laced with concern. He would do anything to protect you, but it is hard to protect a person from their own mind. No matter how much he had tried to.
Your palms had started to become clammy, and you were shaking. The entire time you were trying to throw yourself into your work you had ignored what was going on inside your brain. In hindsight, that was a bad idea because now every little thing that happened alongside your anxiety was fighting its way out. You started to cry a little harder, your shoulder bobbing up and down as the sobs tormented you.
“What can I do honey? I’ll do whatever you need me to do.” Hotch was speaking in a soft, gentle tone. This was not the first time he had helped you through an anxiety attack. The second night you spent with him you realized you had forgotten to submit a report on the case you all had handled that week and started to panic. He calmed you down then by reassuring you that he was in charge of when they were due, and he absolutely believed you that it had been done you had just forgotten to submit it. You have never been one to turn something in late, even at work. The only thing about now, this was the first time you had an anxiety attack at work, and you have no idea why it was happening.
“Just stay with me, hold me.” Hotch grabs you, lifts you up, and takes you over to the couch in his office. He sits you down and runs over to his desk where he grabs tissues. He sits down in front of you on his knees, takes the tissue, wipes your eyes, under your eyes, and gives you a new one to blow your nose with. After you do this, he takes them all to the trashcan, returns to you sits down, and guides you where your head is on his lap and he is stroking your hair. He knows that laying down and having your hair stroked is one way to easily ground you, so you can return back to your normal state and are able to function again.
You clear your throat and ask, “How did you know something was up?”
He lets out a small laugh, “When you walked in. You didn’t look at anyone, you didn’t wave, and you didn’t even lift your head up to check if I was in my office like you always do. I let you have a little while, hoping you’d be able to pull yourself out of the trance you were in, but once I realized you couldn’t, I intervened.”
You shift, rolling yourself over, so you can get a solid look at the man. His forehead is creased, meaning he’s worried about you, and his hand hasn’t moved from your hair. He uses his other hand to rub your cheeks with his thumb and he hums your favorite song.
“Do you know what caused this anxiety attack?” He looks down at you with a half smile as you smile back at him, letting him know everything is getting easier. The pounding in your chest has started to ease up, but you can still feel your heart rate is pretty fast. If you got up now, you’d probably either pass out or your eyes would go blurry for a minute, preventing you from moving.
“Honestly, no. I woke up and felt very groggy and focusing to even get myself out of bed was tough. I haven’t had one of these episodes in a while, so I thought if I just worked through it, I could ignore it enough that it’d go away.” You now, roll your eyes at the thought. You had been dealing with anxiety since you were eleven years old. You had dealt with these types of episodes before, you had to face it head-on or it would just get worse. You learned your lesson this time.
“You could’ve just come to my office. You know I am always here for you. Always. I would have helped you get through this. You didn’t have to let it build up this badly.” He jokingly waved a finger in your face to symbolize you had been bad. This brought a hearty chuckle out of you, which in turn made him smile. Seeing Hotch smile could cure most things for you. He was a great man, a great dad, and a great boyfriend. He would do anything if it meant that you would be okay. You had just thought this one wouldn’t be as bad.
“I know, it’s just embarrassing to have to deal with this. I wish, I just wish I could be normal.” You let out a heavy sigh, as he looks at you.
“Hey, if having anxiety makes you not normal, what does having nightmares related to the things I’ve been through make me? We all have our demons, and we all have things that make us different from the people around us. There is absolutely no such thing as normal. Who you are, and I mean this, and everything about you makes you perfect to me. Anxiety included.” He says, completely serious.
You look up at him, sit yourself up, and place a soft kiss on his lips. He returns it, grabbing the back of your head to emphasize how much he means it.
“I wouldn’t have made it through this without you, Aaron Hotchner.” You smile, your mouth inches from his. He kisses you again, and bites your lower lip. You laugh.
“I wouldn’t have made it through a lot without you, if this is the way I can repay all you’ve done for me, I’ll do it for the rest of my life.”
#aaron hotchner#hotch#hotch x reader#hotch x you#soft hotch#anxiety#anxiety attack#hotch fic#aaron hotchner fic#aaron hotch x reader#aaron hotch fanfiction#aaron hotch x you#aaron hotch fic#x reader#female reader#fanfic#criminal minds#criminal minds fanfiction#drabble#bau team#bau reader#marchhotchness#f!reader#aaron hotchner x you#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner headcanons#tooth rotting fluff
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Very late to starting so imma just have to skip to day three of marchhotchness by @hotchfiles which is a question!
What's your favourite Hotch outfit? Any reason for it?
Oh god okay I struggled deciding on just 6 looks. I also have no perception of what ep they come from so sorry abt that 💔 but anyway here we go LMAO
First look we have this really nice blueish/grey button down. It's smart casual, his pants are low on his hips and honestly he fills out the shirt real good 🤤 like goddAMN
Second, we have the classic brown quarter zip. I absolutely fucking LOVE this look. I have my own brown quarter zip that I pretend is his lmaooooo. It's just a cosy look and I love it 💖
Next we got the full on suit and tie :3 my favourite is when he wears a dark tie cuz he really suits dark colours imo!! Delicious, neat, I'm at his command 🫣
Him with the suit but no jacket is so hot like are you KIDDING ME. And in later seasons?? He has such a sexy dadbod which is a bit more obvious in these shirts so it's an instant favourite for me.
And now we have the orange sweater!!! It's such an adorable look, and one of my favourite scenes from the whole show too!! He's a littol pumpkin man 🥰🥰
And finally, we have another shirt without a tie and jacket. Hoo...... Legit one of the sexiest looks for me, smart casual, dark colour scheme, fits him in the right places UGH
In conclusion: idc what he wears cuz he's gonna look fucking good in it no matter what 🤤🤤🤤 I'm shamelessly a slvt for this man
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The one that got away - Hotch x Male!reader [March Hotchness day 2]
[note: OKAY THIS IS ALMOST AN HOUR PAST DAY 2 FOR ME BUT I DONT CARE. This is part of the march hotchness event by @hotchfiles]
cw: angst, male!reader
word count: 1.4k
It was odd, in a way, to reminisce on someone so often and yet know nothing of their current life. Like watching the same home movie over and over, the person never loses the sparkle in their eyes or smile on their lips. They’re frozen in time. Young and perfect.
Aaron Hotchner was the kindest person you’d ever met. Full stop, end of statement. There was truly no one else that had even come close to the way he’d treat the people around him when the two of you were at boarding school together, and you knew there likely never would be. You had to make peace with that a long time ago. The two of you first met at the beginning of the very first semester of school, seated together at the back of English class where someone had asked him to borrow a pen- he’d had plenty of spares of course, and you’d noted to yourself that despite his rather stoic and quiet appearance, he didn’t actually hate everyone. He was neat and well prepared, took notes with handwriting that made you envy his control, your own sparse scribbles looking elementary in comparison.
By lunch the two of you were joined at the hip, having started a conversation about the books you’d be studying that year, then somehow getting onto talking about more personal interests. He divulged his hobby of coin collecting and love of the beatles, and you stood there astounded that someone so seemingly unremarkable was such a huge nerd. You felt unremarkable, even with interests just as nerdy, you felt like a dull shining star watching a supernova. Beautiful and bright and impacting everyone effortlessly. He was somehow introverted but friends with everyone, popular but liked, It never felt like you were in danger of him suddenly turning on you and making fun of you like the others did- in fact, he was the one there to comfort you about it, the one to send them an actual glare as opposed to his usual apathetic expression and make their jeers peter out into mumbles of almost apologies. Never real ones, to be clear, but grunts that sounded close enough that he’d stop his disapproving stare. You loved that stare, probably because it was only ever sent to you in a lighthearted manner, part of the jokes you’d share to make the boredom filled days at the boarding school less unbearable.
It went on like that for years, the two of you only growing closer with time, eventually you knew everything about each other. Divulged hopes and dreams, supported each other through every obstacle, celebrated good grades and attended every extracurricular club event the other was part of. One of those clubs was drama, you were the one to join it and Aaron was more than happy to be sat in the front row of every play and showcase you acted in, being your anchor when you got stage fright. He was your favourite part of those evenings, seeing him beaming up at you at curtain call, clapping and whistling while you took your final bow.
That was his place in this, where he was always expected to be…so when he asked you to help him get an audition for Pirates of Penzance after a rehearsal he visited, you were honestly baffled. Aaron had never shown an interest in becoming an actor, and if you were honest you knew he wasn’t brilliant just from him helping you run lines. Regardless, he was your best friend, so of course you were going to help him out- it would be fun if nothing else, plus you’d get to spend more time with him. In the time the two of you had grown closer, you’d also grown up, maturing and making discoveries about yourselves and the world around you. It was unspoken that you told each other everything…but you were lying to him, you had been for about a year by the time the play rolled around. Why? Because you were falling in love with him.
It wasn’t even an option to tell him. He could never know. Maybe one day once the two of you were in college and far from the judgement of these particular peers, you’d open up and tell him you were gay- or bi- you still weren’t sure. But for now it was taking a back seat as you furiously studied the script. It was originally an opera, but obviously that wasn’t going to happen with high school aged students, so the theatre teacher had turned it into a play. Eventually, in what was most likely a pity move, that same teacher awarded Aaron the role of Fourth Pirate. He was ecstatic, as were you, knowing you’d get to have scenes together since you had been given the role of Fredric. But after a few minutes, you saw him scouring the script and eventually tapping the page…a name. Ruth. And just like that your heart dropped to your stomach, past things you’d noticed but brushed off coming back to haunt you and weigh heavily on your chest.
The first time you noticed it was the second ever showcase. A dual monologue you had spent hours timing, blocking and perfecting with your scene partner. Most of it was spent facing her, but you couldn’t help noticing his attention pulled from you even when you were the one speaking. That was how it went on for a while, until your first lead role. Your first bow. He wasn’t even looking at you, his focus was over to stage right, a grin on his face and sparkle in his eyes you thought was reserved only for you.
The walk back to the dressing rooms (which were just the gym locker rooms) felt like your legs were jelly, your heart in your throat while you wiped off the makeup they made you wear. That night you went home alone, didn’t even speak to him, blaming it on tiredness the following Monday. The lie was accepted, and you both moved on just fine, you managed to force yourself to not think about it and he hadn’t even realised you noticed.
So when it got to Pirates of Penzance and he tapped that name, the utter heartbreak crashed over you all over again. Of course. Of course he’d only joined to speak to her- to speak to Haley. This was never about you, why would it be? You were just ‘Aaron’s friend’, a set piece on the stage of their meet cute, the wingman who would obviously support him. Right? There was no way your feelings for him were anything but platonic. So why did seeing the two of them laugh together feel like a knife to the gut? Why, when the play was over and he brought her flowers, did you want to throw them to the ground and destroy them? Haley was perfect. A beautiful, talented and sweet girl who had been nothing but nice to you- she wanted to be friends, you’d noticed her efforts. But the moment you realised what Aaron was doing she became your enemy. If she was his Juliet, then you were the moon, pale and sick with grief. Envy.
After the play was over, you isolated yourself. You stopped passing notes and whispering in class, stopped hanging out at his locker and dorm, stopped calling late at night to giggle about some stupid thing that happened that day. Eventually you went from inseparable best friends to a nod and smile in the hallway, with Haley on his arm, of course. And you felt sick.
The final semester came and went and before you knew it you’d attended and graduated college. You hadn’t seen him since high school graduation, but from what you’d seen he and Haley were still going strong- engaged, even. Over time it hurt less, but the ache you got seeing those brown eyes never left. You knew he likely didn’t even think about being attracted to men, everything about him screamed that he’d never think twice about how he’d seen you back then, and you accepted it. Boyfriends came and went, some looking remarkably like him, but it was never the same, you couldn’t pretend it was the one you truly wanted. So you gave up. Focused on work and built friendships, built a career. It made you happy most of the time, and that’s all you wanted really, just a little happiness to make the loneliness easier to swallow.
It went down a treat after a while, until one afternoon there was a knock on your apartment door, and you opened it to see a dark haired man and woman holding up badges. Suddenly you couldn’t swallow it. Suddenly, you felt it lodge in your throat as those brown eyes widened, realising exactly who he was looking at.
#aaron hotchner#criminal minds#marchhotchness#aaron hotchner angst#aaron hotchner x male reader#aaron hotchner x reader#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds x male reader#leowrites
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Favourite Hotch Centered episode
Day 11 of the #MarchHotchness event.
Find the other days HERE
Thank you to @hotchfiles for creating this event 💕
As always Request here! | Masterlist
I am incredibly behind. I'm sorry.
For me, a centred episode is an episode where you see character development, so my top three Hotch episodes are as follows:
4. The Tribe. It’s the first time we see Hotch butting heads with someone else. It shows us his ability to respect a person he’s in apparent competition with. We watch his attitude change and his perspective shift as he’s given new information to consider and insight into life experiences beyond his own. By the end, they’ve formed a solid bond. The episode is also just structured like a classic buddy cop comedy, and it’s endlessly amusing to me. I truly love the line where Spencer begins answering a question in the classroom and without missing a beat, Hotch calls him out like a parent/teacher. I think the episode also shows Hotch’s dedication to doing the right thing, and seeking the truth despite there being easier paths, involving money, etc. The BAU can’t be bought or manipulated. And this theme comes up a lot around Hotch.
3. L.D.S.K. I think this episode is an amazing showcase of how clever Hotch really is, and how well he can read a situation and adapt. His ability to gain favour, and create a rapport between himself and the UNSUB is impressive. He utilizes the profile and thinks quickly. He creates a game plan. We also get bits and pieces of information about the teams he was on before he joined the BAU. Also, his apologising to Spencer afterwards is precious. I love their relationship so much.
2. Pleasure Is My Business is one of my favourites because I think it showcases a lot of Hotch’s moral compass. He’s interested in justice regardless of what that means. He also has a great deal of compassion where others might not. I think a lot of his true character is on display here. Also, plot-wise I think this episode is unique compared to a lot of the others, and the whole “how am I a whore?” dialogue is brilliant. I love that whole conversation. I just like this episode point blank.
1. Omnivore has always been one of my favourite episodes, period. When I think of criminal minds I think of Omnivore. To me, it is the pinnacle of what criminal minds is. But for Hotch specifically, we see how dedicated he is, and how driven he is as well. This is the case that has haunted him for years, and little does he know at this point will continue to alter his life in ways he never could have anticipated. We see Hotch get vulnerable in conversation with Rossi, we see him for the first time unsure, and blaming himself. But, we also see his determination, and we return to his moral code. He doesn’t make deals with guys like the Reaper, even when it would make the problem “go away”.
#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner imagine#criminal minds fic#hotch x reader#marchhotchness
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↪ day eight. choices — #marchhotchness
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ❝ [tell me to regret it] ❞
pairing: aaron hotchner x bau!reader.
summary: aaron prides himself of making good choices. until he makes one he regrets.
content warnings: not proofread, pretty sure only one gender mark (miss) by the very very end, a bit of angst, a bit of fluff, happy ending. light mention of sex.
word count: 1.1k
at first, aaron prided himself on making good choices, at least after graduating high school. all his choices were thought out to the best outcome. his major, law school, his job, haley.
he then prided himself on standing by his choices. even if the outcome wasn’t the best. even if it wasn’t the easiest choice to make, he stood by them. he took the bullet, he accepted the consequences.
when haley filed for a divorce he wanted to fight it, he did, but aaron knew she had spent too much of her life dealing with his choices. he knew it wasn’t fair for her to fight for a broken marriage because his career was too important to him.
every single day he chose to pick up the phone, he chose to leave, he chose to work after hours. so he signed the divorce papers, letting her free to make her own life decisions.
whenever the bau faced repercussions for their actions on the field on any cases, he took the heat at all times, the eyes of the higher ups were always on him and he took advantage of that to let the team work more freely. if needed, he would take the fall and it would’ve been his choice. and he would be happy with it.
there was one decision though, one choice that he made that kept heaving on his mind. he made it, he thought it was the right one at the time and he was living through the consequences.
still every time he saw your eager eyes or heard you laughing at something emily said, that sharp pang in his heart would take his mind to the last time you truly talked.
so much so he ended up calling you to his office, not thinking clearly, not planning it out. he just heard your voice at the end of the day, happy, laughing, apparently not suffering from the distance he had chosen to put between you two and for once he was selfish with every intention to be so.
“need help with anything, boss?” the title tastes bitter in your tongue and it hits aaron just the same. he was hotch. and then aaron. old man. babe and love. never boss.
boss came after he told you your relationship couldn’t go on. it would hurt your career and his. boss was now the only way you referred to him, as that was what he chose to be.
his attempts to lock eyes with you don’t go unnoticed, but they remain unfruitful as you focus on his desk and your fingers fidget with your necklace.
“not exactly… i–i just wanted to talk to you. we haven’t spoken privately in a while.” your eyes immediately find his, the hurt and the anger filling them in a way he never saw before, he felt it piercing through his soul and he almost regrets not thinking it through before calling you in. almost.
“there’s a reason for that. we don’t have anything to discuss privately.”
“does it have to be like this?”
“i don’t understand, what do you want me to say, hotchner? that we can be friends? pretend nothing ever happened between us?” you’re both glad the door behind you is closed, even if it’s late and everyone has left by now. your voice is slightly raising more and more with each response you give him.
that’s not what he wants, he selfishly wants to hear your voice crack while speaking to him, he wants you to tell him you miss him, to force out of his tongue what he desperately needs to tell you: that he regrets the choice he made that night.
he regrets being afraid when you never were. that he’s sorry he pushed you away when you were always an open book. that seeing you seemingly happy and moving right on with your life was killing him because he couldn’t even begin to think of doing the same.
aaron glances quickly at his window to make sure once more that the bullpen is empty and gets up, getting just close enough that you won’t leave. “don’t you miss me? u–us?” funnily enough, his voice is the one cracking up as he speaks.
“aaron, don’t be cruel.” your voice is barely a whisper, not similar to the one you showed him minutes before, your eyes divert from him again, knowing that if you look at him too much you might tear up and that’s not you.
“i’m not doing that.”
“you are. you sleep with me, tell me you love me. you push me away, break up with me. and now this? just… don’t.” it hits him sharper than a knife how hard he hurt you then. he’s a profiler, he should’ve noticed it, instead he chose to notice only the happy smiley façade you put up to work every day so you could face him.
he usually wouldn’t do this in the middle of an argument but maybe he needs to start reevaluating how he makes his choices and this is one of those, so he pulls your hand and although you flinch at his touch you don’t pull away, so he hugs you tight, your arms are dead limbs by your side but his are strong around you, as is his cologne filling your senses, both bring you that familiar feel of safety.
“i’ve been foolish, and afraid and selfish. and possibly a handful of other adjectives. but i would never purposefully be cruel to you.” aaron pulls away from the embrace only slightly, taking your face with both his hands so you can see how true his words are by the look on his eyes. you begin to feel your arms again, sliding them up to his chest where you feel the rapidness of his heartbeat. “i miss you, give me a chance to try this again?”
you’re not certain it will work, but you know that he means his words. and you know your heart is beating just as fast as his because just being embraced by him meant everything. so you nod once slowly, seeing his lips turn into a grin as he pulls you into a gentle kiss.
his lips taste like hope, hope he won’t make any decision he will regret again. but mostly, it tastes like cheap coffee, which causes you to laugh into the kiss.
“is this all because i stopped bringing you coffee from the coffee shop?” aaron laughs out loud, a laughter unlikely to be heard by most people, but then again, you are not most people. he shakes his head in disbelief at what you’re saying and licks his lips.
“you’re getting way too good at noticing details, miss liaison.”
“just when it comes to you.”
#lari writes sometimes#lari march hotchness#marchhotchness#aaron hotch x reader#aaron hotch x you#aaron hotch imagine#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner x you#aaron hotchner imagine#criminal minds x reader#hotch x reader#hotch x you#hotch imagine#hotch scenario
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For the Marchhotchness writing challenge by @hotchfiles
Word Count- 1k
This hasn’t been proof read and I’m not really sure it fits the prompt tbh
Gender neutral reader
—
12. [PROMPT] Dinner Party Stories
After moving out of state Aaron thought he would be able to avoid the yearly family reunions, and he had always worked or was able to justify the excess travel time to his mother, until this year. It had been ten years since he had attended one when his mother called with the invitation, fully prepared to give another excuse,his mother carried on talking as if she had already received an answer.
‘Aaron, don’t you think it is time you propose to Haley, the reunion would be the perfect time to rebuild those bridges. You’re fathers partners are willing to offer you his previous position at the firm—’
Aaron hadn’t been with Haley since he joined the FBI 4 years ago, unable to come to an agreement on the future of his career and he hadn’t seen her in 2 years. His mother knew this and had known this since a month after it happened. Haleys parents had made sure everyone knew that Aaron was to blame, unable to compromise and become a politician, not wanting to keep providing for the life their daughter needed. Aaron had never said a bad word against Haley simply wished her well and moved on with his life, there were a few people who called to berate him, telling him he was throwing away a respectable future, but Aaron politely explained it was never his goal to go into politics and that he wanted Haley to be happy in life.
He needed to shut this down before his mother took his silence as an acceptance
‘Mother, Haley and I have not had a relationship for four years. I know you were upset when things ended but I will not be marrying her. As I said when you asked me last year, I am not going to leave the FBI to move back and work for fathers company. I understand this is hard for you to accept however it is my life I have moved on and I am very happy with what I am doing’
His mother was not a person used to being told no.
‘Aaron stop being ridiculous, I have spent a lot of time sorting out this nonsense with the Brooks’, you will come home and do what is right.’ With that she hung up the phone, leaving Aaron to drop his head and groan.
—
Unlocking the door, you walked into a quiet home, not unusual but Aaron’s briefcase was on the bench by the door and you assumed if you looked in the cupboard his coat would be hung up too. Taking off your shoes, you wandered through the rooms before coming to a stop outside Aaron’s office.
‘Hey love, is everything okay?’ Not having heard you come home Aaron stiffens when you speak, slowly letting out a breath as he turns in his chair to face you.
‘Hey, yeah sorry my mother called again and I must have lost track of time’ he stretched a hand out towards you before pulling you onto his lap.
‘Has something happened?’ You see his face fall and his brow start to furrow, unconsciously your thumb moves to soothe his frown before both hands cup his face. He looks so defeated when he looks up at you, you press a kiss to his nose knowing it will make him smile. It does
‘Love you—’ he closes his eyes an huffs a deep sigh ‘she phoned again about the reunion’ he paused and you nodded, wanting him to continue
‘She told me to come home and do what is right. She has apparently decided that at this dinner party I will be proposing to Haley, quitting my job and working for my fathers company. It’s all been arranged.’ Dejected he drops his head into your shoulder and you run your hands through his hair at the base of his neck.
You don’t really know what to say to that, you’ve never met the Hotchner matriarch but you had spoken to her on the few occasions you had been around when she called. She knew who you were, knew that you had been with Aaron for nearly three years.
‘I never thought she would do something like this, she has always been callous and controlling, but I never thought she would go this far. When we spoke last month she never mentioned any of this.’
‘How do you want to handle this?’ You question once it’s clear he isn’t going to say more, he uncharacteristically shrugs, face lifting from your shoulder
‘Everything she wants me to do is out of the question, I love you and I’m not giving up the career I have worked so hard for. There's a part of me that just wants to show up, with you on my arm to show them how happy I am, how proud I am to be your boyfriend. But I don’t want to put you through what is bound to be an awkward dinner. I know if I don’t go this will just get worse.’
‘Alright, here’s what we’re going to do, tomorrow we will let your mother know we are coming, we have a long weekend off so we will head to the fancy dinner on the Friday, be so smiley and happily in love that there is no chance your mother will bring up the engagement, she wouldn’t want to cause herself the embarrassment of having to explain. I will be sweet as pie to Haley, sing your praise about your job. We'll eat the super fancy food and then we will find somewhere to hide out for the rest of the weekend.’
Aaron chuckled, ‘Are you sure honey?’
‘Of course’ you press a soft kiss to his forehead before climbing off his lap, holding out your hand
‘Come on let’s put this to rest for the night, I’ll call for some pizza, you get the blankets and we’ll meet on the sofa in five’ smiling he kissed you
‘Love you, sweetheart’
‘Love you too Aaron’
#marchhotchness#my writing#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotch hotchner#aaron hotchner fanfic#criminal minds fanfic#criminal minds#criminal minds fanfiction#aaron hotchner imagine#aaron hotchner x you#gender neutral reader
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↪ day ten. good day's work — #marchhotchness
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ❝ [how dark the night] ❞
pairing: hotchner x reader.
summary: sometimes being home safe is the only good outcome of a case.
content warnings: not proofread, no gender marks i'm pretty sure. that's about it.
word count: 500
accepting the fact he can’t save everyone is the hardest part of the job to aaron. sometimes, most times, he can’t save everyone.
sometimes the bad guy gets away. sometimes not even the bau can catch them. getting hung up on it affects the job. affects life.
still, for someone who left the prosecution so he could save people before they became just part of a file, so he could catch criminals before they made more victims… getting on a plane knowing he wasn’t able to do that was frustrating.
he made his best to try and keep team morale up, telling them what they all knew: it happens. it comes with the job. we do better next time. we keep working to catch them.
his heart tugged with every line, each step he made the decision the team would take heaving on his head as he closed his eyes trying to quiet his mind with some sleep.
it’s late when he gets home and aaron is quiet as always, not wanting to disturb your sleep and especially not wanting to wake jack up. the scent of the candle you chose to burn that night still lingered and it made his shoulders finally drop in a bit of relaxation.
there’s books scattered on the table and aaron smiles with the image of you keeping up with everything new that came in your field of work, but what makes him smile more is the sea of colored markers accompanied by drawings jack had made while working with you.
aaron hears your steps heaving on the wood floor, those fluffy slippers jack got you last christmas always glued to your feet as soon as you got home and then sun set. he takes a deep breath, smelling your shampoo and all other concoctions you wore before going to bed and before he can move, your arms are around his waist, your head laid on his back.
aaron throws his head back, touching the top of yours lightly, he rubs your arms with the utmost care and for a few minutes none of you speak.
“how was the case?” your question fills the air and by now you know the results of a case by his mannerisms when he gets home, even if you’re not a profiler yourself.
“not that great.” the dry chuckle he lets out is only to show he knows what you’re up to, he knows he got caught.
your arms tighten even more around him, your way to ground him with you, to keep his mind there, “you’re here and you’re safe. to me that still counts as a good work’s day.” that's what you would always tell him. in good days he would tease you about how selfish that was. today he just takes your fingers in his, kissing your hand.
he can’t save everyone, but at least his family is safe. at least he’s home, feeling the warmth and safety of your embrace.
most days, that’s even more than he could ever ask.
#marchhotchness#lari march hotchness#lari writes sometimes#aaron hotch x reader#aaron hotch x you#aaron hotch imagine#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner x you#aaron hotchner imagine#criminal minds x reader#hotch x reader#hotch x you#hotch imagine#hotch scenario
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