important news, i finally got a shiny lopunny for his team. i gave a detailed explanation ages ago but i'll do it again bc it's been a bit
lopunny: rabbit pet, but shiny bc pink and on brand
slakoth: well... that's simon. originally was also shiny bc pink but then i caught this one with perfect stats, so it was destiny
cherrim: its pokedex was so funny i had to JHDFJH. something something sun related. i love imagining it running around in circles but the second a cloud comes by it just collapses. that's a good pokemon to have with you i think
nidoking: there is no reason for his inclusion except for the fact that i caught this one with perfect stats immediately after the resistance fight in 2021... and then i caught another one with perfect stats on the anniversary in 2022 JHDJFH. affectionately named revolution 2 btw <3
swinub: hehe pig thing. ignore the name, that's just me naming it (it was one of mine before being thrown onto his team bc it's the only non-shiny one i have. also has perfect stats :P)
sunflora: that's just the staff of the rising sun
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AFTER HOURS
or, Hotch being frustrated with the local police department is hot. mdni
"I'm busy," the sheriff snaps, burying his nose in another case file to avoid looking at Hotch. You purse your lips quietly, trying to decipher your almost illegible handwriting on the report.
"I can come back with a warrant."
Your head snaps up, report forgotten. Hotch's scowl is even more severe than normal, his arms crossed over his chest. The sheriff pushes his chair back, standing face to face with Hotch.
"Excuse me?" the sheriff snaps. The conversation is turning heads all over the precinct, a quiet hush seeping over the desks, but your eyes are glued on Hotch. He braces his hands on the sheriff's desk, and you almost swoon.
"You have deliberately concealed evidence to protect multiple unsubs throughout this entire investigation. All those people had to die for what reason, sheriff? So you could keep your drinking buddies? So you could keep living your twisted lies-"
"You son of bitch," the sheriff spits at Hotch. The entire precinct is silent now, all eyes on the argument. Hotch waits for a beat, two, before abruptly turning away.
"We're leaving," he orders shortly. It takes a second for the words to reach you in your daze, but you scrabble to pack up your papers.
"Hotch, what-" Derek starts, but stops when Hotch fixes him with a dark scowl.
"That's an order." Hotch snaps. Chills, actual chills run down your spine as you follow him out of the precinct, anger rolling off him in waves. You bite your lip, teeth digging into the delicate skin. Bitterly, you wish they were his.
◇─◇──◇─◇
The ride back to the hotel is silent. The team splits up almost as soon as you get back, Hotch storming off to his room as soon as the car stops. You change into conformable clothes and wait for the inevitable knock on your door.
It comes just an hour later. You open the door to see Hotch, his tie loose and his hair mussed, coat jacket gone.
"Can I come in?" he asks quietly, just like he does every time. You smile and nod, and he walks in, closing the door behind him. He waits until the lock clicks.
Just as you pull him in by his button down, he's reaching for you. Your lips collide in clash of teeth, tongues dancing. It's the same battle for dominance like it is every time.
"You loved it," Hotch gasps between kisses, hands sliding up your sides, dragging the material of your (his) shirt with it. You drag your fingers through his hair, nails scraping his scalp, and he groans, low and throaty.
"Yeah? You couldn't even wait an hour before coming here," you spit back, furiously working on the buttons of his shirt. You try to ignore the tremors in your hands as Hotch cups your breast in his hand, massaging slow circles on your nipple.
"Do you want be to boss you around, angel? Want me to tell you what to do?" he asks, and oh god, you didn't even realize your shirt was off. The wall is cool against your back when you collide with it, and you realize he's doing it again.
"I think I'd rather die," you snap, but it comes out breathy as one of Hotch's hands trails down your stomach, disappearing underneath the hem of your sweats.
"Yeah?" he asks in his stupid smug voice, his paw-like hands cupping your pussy. You grind down against him, almost unconsciously. His thumb starts to work lazy circles on your clit, and your eyes flutter shut. You bite back your moans, opening your eyes to glare at him hazily.
He only chuckles, slipping two of his fingers inside you. His thumb works at a cruel pace, and your fingernails dig into his arm, trying to keep yourself upright. Hotch's fingers arch once, twice, before rubbing against the sweet spot inside of you.
You can't help it: you moan, high and breathy in his ear and Hotch's head falls back, a groan escaping his throat.
"There we go, angel, there we go," he coos, and the world spins and you realize he's picked you up. He sets you down on the bed, his hands shaking as he pulls off sweats and underwear. Your legs are still shaking as he settles you in his lap, and your head spins when you realize he's still in his (open) button down and slacks.
"Aaron," you whine as he slides his fingers back into you, and he runs a soothing hand down your back as you grind down on them. As his fingers rub against your walls, you can only bury your head in his shoulder.
You gasp as his fingers rub against both your clit and g-spot, crying out. You writhe in his arms, hazy with pleasure, dragging your nails his back. Hotch is moaning freely, rutting up against you.
"It's so-" you gasp, clinging onto his shoulders, nails leaving marks, "Aaron, ugh, it's so good-"
"I know," he groans in response, "I know, sweetheart. Just let me take care of you, yeah?"
◇─◇──◇─◇
"casual sex implies the existence of ranked competitive sex" this is the ranked competitive sex
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