#luvver'swrites

"Georgia college." He sighed and passed a file across the table, "Four students from the same philosophy class have been murdered. All of them found dead in their dorm, poisoned."

"Jesus, that's brutal." You sigh, "Can the local police not interview everyone in the class?"

"They have, no one has flagged any concern. So they believe the unsub can either blend in or is another student on campus." He explained, "So they asked us if we had an agent we could send in. Morgan calls you baby bird for a reason." He smiled, a rare Hotch smile.

"So, we're sending you in as a college student. And Reid as a professor."

You choked back a cough. "Reid?"

It wasn't like you didn't like Reid, but he did not like you. He had a reputation, smart, genius that doesn't like newcomers in his unit. He never let you get away with a slip of the tongue, constantly correcting your every word. It was infuriating.

"He's an experienced profiler and he has lecturing experience." Hotch said, "Plus he will have a view of the whole room."

"I don't need hand holding Hotch." You pursed your lips, flipping the file closed and pressing it onto your legs.

"I know you don't. It's for everyone's safety." He sighed and huffed with a tone that told you there was no point in arguing back.

Sinking into the chair, you cross one leg over the other. "Do I need to do the assignments?" You asked.

"We aren’t sure yet. Come on, Garcia is about to debrief the team." He held the door open for you and you ducked under his arm.

The round table chatter stopped as soon as you stepped into the room. All of them trying to look busy as they did whenever they were gossiping.

"Do I really look like I could still be in college?" You sigh and throw yourself into your chair in between Morgan and JJ.

"Yes." "Yes." "A little." "We call you baby bird for a reason."

"I hate you guys." You grump, and shove your elbow into Morgan's ribs. "I do not look twenty two. I'm almost thirty."

"Actually," You roll your eyes as you hear Reid's voice cut across the chuckling. "You're actually three years, seven months and eleven days away from thirty. So not almost. Also due to your slightly larger eyes and your affinity to wear pink makes people believe you are younger than you actually are." He rattled off, fiddling with his fingers.

You opened your mouth to spit something back when Penelope came into the room in a flurry. She had bags of shopping bundled into her grip, dumping them down the floor and swooping in with the remote in hand.

"Morning, my superhuman crime fighters. I'll get right into it! At Georgia college four students have recently been killed in their dorm rooms." She clicked on the button and four pictures popped up. "James Gripe, Lucy Brown, Issac Nike and Cara Smith. At first, they thought James Gripe had died from caffeine overconsumption and stress from finals. But then, Lucy, Issac and Cara were found in the concurrent weeks." She sighed sadly, looking at their faces in sympathy.

"Crossing both race and gender lines is rare." Rossi stated, scribbling down the names in his journal.

"The police already looked into the other students in the class right?" Emily asked and Hotch nodded.

"No one caused them any concern." He confirmed, "And as far as the students know they all have died of an overdose and stress related causes. The local ME is currently checking the bodies for signs of poison."

"The media is going to have a field day if this gets out." JJ sighed, running a hand through her hair.

"Alright. Wheels up in 30, the sooner we get started the better. We'll discuss the undercover operation on the jet." Hotch said, striding out of the round table and back into his office.

Everyone else filed out, Derek pulling Reid to the side and mumbling something about "Getting better at talking to women." and Pen yanked you to the side before you could step out.

"I got you some things!" She rummaged around in the bag and shoved some clothes into your arms.

You held up a dress against your body. "Why the hell did you buy me a club dress?"

"You're going to college! And you're like my little sister and I couldn't send you off without a hot dress" She said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Oh, and a shirt and a mini skirt." She held them up.

"Thanks Pen." You smile and pull her into a tight hug. "I'll send you a picture if i end up wearing it." She gripped back onto you tighter.

"Come back to me safe, Baby Bird." She whispered into your hair.

"I will." You nod and peck her on the cheek, shoving the clothes into your go bag and getting ready to hit the tarmac.

"Wait!" Pen shouts across the bullpen and runs toward you as fast as she could with her too high heels. "I forgot to give you these."

----

Hauling your go bag into the overhead cabin, you sit down opposite Hotch. He slides your new ID across the table and you put it straight into your wallet.

"Everyone in that class is a potential victim." Derek sighed, flipping over the papers in his file.

"What that's like forty more potential victims?" You scoff, shaking your head.

"Forty six. Well, forty seven including you." Reid cut in, not even looking up from the book his face was buried in.

"Close enough." You grit out, teeth clenched.

"Not exact." He spat back.

Rolling your eyes and turning away from him, shoving a middle finger his way and huffing towards Derek. He smiled towards you cheekily, "Did you get Penelope's gifts?"

"Yeah. A tiny shirt, a mini skirt and a barely there dress." Derek let out a low whistle. "Oh, and about five million condoms." You pull the box from your pocket where you'd shoved them in with your cheeks turning red, hoping that no one in the bullpen saw.

"You could go through half of Georgia with those."

Ripping off a strip and threw it, hitting him square in the chest. "And you can go through half the police department with those." You joke and nudge him with the tip of your shoe.

"That was one time man!" He exclaimed.

"Actually, there were the two in Colorado." Emily piped in.

"One in California, and another in Florida." JJ continued.

"Don't forget police chief Jones in Texas." You teased, counting on your fingers.

"And the nurse in Oregon." Rossi finished.

"And that was all in the last six months." Hotch put the nail in the coffin, never usually joining in on the team banter. But he was smirking over his file at Derek's mock glare.

"C'mon we've all gone home with someone once. Well apart from babybird and pretty boy over there." He defended, throwing his hands up.

You scoff, "Hey, I don't want to become a case. Look at half of our cases, they all go home with their killers." You shake your head and climb out of the seat and into the plane aisle.

"At least I'm not thirty year old virgin over there." You snort, pulling open the small blue curtain to the kitchenette with a loud screech.

"Thirty two." He corrects, having now moved on to another book. Flipping a page in between words, the whole page completed.

"I like how that's the part you correct." You purse your lips, snorting and closing the curtain behind you, the kettle beginning to bubble. You knew he was thirty two, you were there at the party Pen made him have at Rossi's. But sometimes, you liked to push. To see how far you could take it before he couldn't resist and correct you. Usually, it just took you rounding up or down to make his patience to tip over.

You sigh quietly as you sit down with a scalding cup of coffee, the bitter taste burning your tongue as you sip it down.

"Looking forward to doing assignments again?" Emily asks, clasping her hands together on the wooden table.

"Definitely not, I'm not that well versed in philosophy so I better get reading." You smile, trying to lighten her worry.

"I suspect Professor Reid will mark you highly." She laughed, her eyes darting over your shoulder to him.

You follow her gaze and quickly glance over, hoping he wouldn't notice. But he was already looking at you. Probably from hearing Emily mention his name. It takes you a second to pull away from his intense stare. Emily cleared her throat, yanking you back to reality.

"I think I'll be his least favourite student." You roll your eyes, still feeling his eyes glaring at the back of your head.

----

You never thought you’d be back at college. But now, you were walking through the hallways of Georgia college with a backpack filled to the brim on your back. Thick textbooks and laptop weighing you down, or was it the nerves of trying to blend in?

It was far too early in the morning for most of the students around you, all dragging their feet and murmured complaints due to the previous late night.

Slowing, in front of the lecture hall. Coming to a stop in front of a group of girls standing and chatting amongst themselves.

“Excuse me,” You start. “Is this Professor Wright’s philosophy?”

They quiet, and turn to you. “Yeah! but he’s on leave so another professor is standing in. Are you new?” The dark haired girl asked, a soft smile on her face.

“Yeah, I just transferred from Arizona. Something to do with the credit amounts for graduation.” You shrugged. “I’m - Ivy." The name stumbles out unnaturally, like it doesn't belong to you. Because it doesn't. The introduction feels foreign in your mouth and heat pooled in your cheeks.

“Marie. And this is Chloe and Sarah.” She points to the girls staring behind her, they both give a wave.

The door to the lecture hall swings open. And everyone starts to file in. The plan was to sit at the back, keeping your head down and being able to view the whole room.

“Come sit with us!” Marie smiled, waving you over to the front row.

Descending down the stairs of the lecture hall, long hair bouncing, you slide into the seat on the end of the aisle. Pulling out your laptop and loading it up.

“I wonder what the new professor will be like,” She whispered into your ear. “Professor Wright was great, but he was basically a dinosaur.” She giggled.

“Hopefully good. I really need this credit.” You sigh, opening your mouth to speak again when the door swings open.

“Sorry, I’m late. I couldn’t find the hall.” Reid came spluttering into the hall and throwing his shoulder bag on the desk and uncapping the whiteboard marker and scribbling his name now. “I’m Professor Gardener, and I’ll be here while Professor Wright is on sick leave. I assure you he is feeling OK and has started his recovery.”

But you knew Professor Wright wasn’t sick, he was sat in his cushy lakeside home. Getting paid time off to lounge around and read through his library.

It had allowed Professor Gardener or as you knew, Doctor Reid pacing around in his element. He had slid into the professor role like a second skin. Hotch had mentioned he had guest lectured before, but the confidence was surprising.

“I’ve been told you were about to start Kantian ethics. So into Kantian ethics 101!” His hands clap and his voice fades into the background as another voice whispered in your ear, pulling you away from the lecture.

“He’s so hot.” Marie said, your head darting toward her.

“What?” You whisper back, slightly alarmed, “Don’t you think he’s like a bit, I don’t know, nerdy?”

“But like a hot nerd.”

Reid’s rambling pulled your attention back to the front of the room. He wasn’t hot, he was all knitted cardigans and wool ties. Stupid facts about Doctor who and how the physics was dodgy. He talked with his hands, waving them around with every unnecessary word. Long fingers that could solve a rubix cube in seconds. His facial hair had started growing in, a shadow coating the bottom half of his face. And standing up there as he lectured, the way the words slipped from him with ease. Maybe, he was hot.

But he was Reid. And Reid was your annoying co worker. The only person on the team who still didn't believe in you as an agent. And there he was standing, as Professor Gardener. And he looked hot.

----

And apparently, half of campus also thought so. Walking into the lecture hall that had been half empty was almost full. The sight makes you trip over your feet and almost tumble down the stairs.

A hand grabbed your bicep and pulled you back and into a chest. You don't need to turn around to know who it was. You knew his cologne, the scent of books and coffee also a hint of mint. You steady yourself and spin around to look at him, he was closer than you thought he would be.

"Professor Gardener. Uh, thank you." You nod and start to head down the stairs where Marie had saved you a seat with her handbag.

"You're also new, Ivy right?" He said, falling in step next to you.

His casual small talk takes you back, you can never recall a time Reid had spoken to you casually. "Yeah, I had to transfer. Graduation credits, you know how it is." You shrugged, stopping at the row. "And thank you again."

Sitting down next to Marie, she immediately grips onto you. "What was that?" She almost gasped.

"I tripped, he caught me." You responded.

"It was straight out of a romcom! I think half of the people in here want to kill you." She giggled.

"He was just being polite." You glaze over the interaction and start to pull out your laptop and textbook.

"People are already calling him Gorgeous Gardener." She continued, and your breath stuttered. This case was going to be a lot more difficult than you thought.

You knew you were staring, ogling even. You were supposed to be looking at him, it was normal to keep your eyes on the professor. But the nickname was true. He was gorgeous. It had wormed it's way into your head, you couldn't escape the thought. Like a bad smell, the thought of Reid being attractive had spent it's time racing around your brain.

He looked like Reid, the same slightly grown out hair do. He moved like Reid, waving his hands around and fiddling with his fingers as he spoke. He dressed like Reid, a dark blue sweater vest and brown blazer. And he even smelled like Reid, the memory of his scent as he pulled you into him. Nevertheless, he wasn't making you feel like Reid.

But a sharp elbow jutted into your ribs.

"Ivy." He was standing at the front of the lecture hall with an expectant raised eyebrow.

"Sorry, what was the question?"

"Could you give us a quick summary of Kantian ethics?" His face hadn't changed.

"Uh, yeah." You tried not to stumble over your words and sent him a glare. "Developed by Immanuel Kant, deciding whether actions are right or wrong depending on duty and moral rules, not the consequences."

"Thank you. Pay attention next time." He span around on his conversed feet and back to the whiteboard. The same condescending tone he used on every case when he felt the need to correct your every word.

At the end of the day. He was still Reid.

The rose coloured glasses that Professor Gardener had grown over your eyes wilted away in an instant. Rose had deepened to red and you were glaring at him the way you had a million times before.

"Kantian ethics teaches that we should always act according to moral duties and universal rules. This creates a fair and consistent moral system." He explained, pacing between his desk and the whiteboard. "Does anyone have an argument against?"

His eyes darted around the room, nodding towards a girl in the middle of the room.

"Uh, I'm just auditing this class." She said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. She flashed a smile at him.

"Oh. Is anyone else auditing this class?" He asked, and a sea of hands raised and your lip curled up in slight disgust. "Hmm, ok."

Your hand shot up into the air. He nodded towards you a sign for you to speak, not before looking desperately for someone else to answer. "But life is more complicated than simple rules. What if it causes harm to follow a rule?"

He looked surprised at your rebuttal. "Kant would argue that the moral rules should be followed regardless of consequences. Otherwise, people would make exceptions when it suited them."

"But take the famous example. Lying to a killer to save someone’s life. Telling the truth would lead to the death of an innocent person."

"Morality becomes subjective if we start making exemptions." He clicked his tongue.

"We can still have moral principles while recognising that consequences matter. A rule that leads to preventable harm does not seem truly moral." He tried to shoot an argument back.

"Morality should also help people and reduce suffering. If a moral theory ignores the real effects of actions, it can produce unfair outcomes." You hide the look of satisfaction on your face.

"That is the most common critique of Kantian ethics." He nodded, turning to the whiteboard and uncapped the pen with a pop. "As it's a Friday, I give you an essay."

Everyone in the room groaned, arms hanging heavy by your sides as your eyes follow his letters. "Is Kantian Ethics correct? You can argue for or against. I expect them to be on my desk by next Friday. Have a good weekend." Just as everyone was about to run out of there at the speed of light. "My office hours are the same as Professor Wright's, so see the paper on the door."

----

The weekend for you didn't mean going out partying and scrambling to plan your essay. Instead, you were sat in the back of a local police precinct. The taste of cardboard and burnt coffee peeked through the burning in your mouth.

You were sat with your head held up by your chin. The door opened and the rest of the team filed in.

"How was class?" JJ asked a joking lilt in her voice, sliding an actual, smooth cup of coffee across the desk.

"Professor Gardener treating you well?" Emily snorted.

Glaring at her but thanking her for the coffee. "I have an essay due next Friday." You fix your glare on Reid, "Oh, and there's about twenty more people auditing the class."

"Nineteen." He corrected.

"And that's nineteen more potential victims." Morgan sighed, "Has anyone in the class come up? Nothing has come up on our end."

"For me, no not yet. Everyone seems like a regular student so far. But I've been keeping my eye out." You explain, notepad and textbook open with the arguments you had chosen highlighted.

"Well if you had spent your time actually looking, rather than gossiping with the girls at the front. You would have seen something." Reid snarked, turning his body away from you and started to address the rest of the team. "There's a guy at the back of the class.-"

You take a deep breath before speaking, "I know that you spent all of your school years sat in the class with no friends. But I didn't, and I'm not going to sulk in the back of the class." You were shoving things back into your bag. "Fuck off, Reid." Your backpack smacked into him as you stormed out of the precinct, the door slammed loudly behind you.

Raging as your feet slammed along the pavement, hands balled into fists, held tightly at your sides. "Ivy, Ivy!" It takes a few seconds for the name to register before you turn around with a smile on your face. "Are you ok? Why were you at the station?" Marie asked, worry painted on her face.

"I just had to change my address to get my mail." Rolling your eyes, you lean all of your weight onto your back foot. "The college said they had handled it, what a way to spend your weekend huh?"

"Oh my God! You should come out with me, Chloe and Sarah!" She grabbed the tops of your arms, shaking you back and forth.

"Um." You pretend to pause in thought. "Not this weekend, we have that essay due in. But next weekend, count me in!"

Marie's face lit up with a large smile. "I'm so excited!" She linked arms with you, leading you away from the station. "There's this bar, they have themed cocktails every single week. They’re a tad expensive but soo strong so it's worth the money!"

She reminded you of Pen in a way, the happy go lucky attitude. The way she took you in like a stray, forcing you to go out for drinks. She brought a slither of normal in your facade, and well there was no stopping Reid from being, well Reid.

----

You had gotten the call that morning. They had found another body. It was a guy, Harry Jones. He sat in the middle of the class, he never spoke. He just sat with his friends and took notes whenever was necessary.

Penelope had managed to work out every victims average grades. They had all been in the top half of the class.

You were slumped in your chair, not listening to a thing Reid was saying. Your ears were tuned into the rows behind you, listening in for any mention of Harry's name. You could tell he was profiling too, eyes constantly scanning the rows, talking on autopilot.

No one was talking about anything of note. Marie, Chloe and Sarah were talking about what they were going to wear to the bar later. The people a few rows behind were talking about what grade they thought they were going to get. Not a mention of Harry. No one realised he was gone.

You could tell Reid was profiling too, eyes constantly scanning the rows, talking on autopilot. Professor Gardener was long gone, you were looking at Reid. But it seemed he was coming up empty too.

"Right." He clapped, casually strolling over to the desk. Resting his hand atop the essays he had collected at the start of class and patted them gently. "Have a good weekend, no homework this week. See you on Wednesday!"

Marie linked arms with you once again, asking you what you were going to wear that night.

"Ivy!" His voice called as you got to the door.

"Hmm? Yes, Professor Gardener." You responded, leaning on the doorway.

"Could you come by my office later? I scanned your essay and there’s a couple points I think we could discuss in depth." He held up the paper, and Marie excuses herself. Lingering right outside.

"Sure, I'll swing by later." You run your finger across the paper on the door. "7pm?"

He nodded. "Sounds good."

Marie pretty much dragged you from the lecture hall. "You should so wear that dress you sent me a picture of." She giggled.

"I cannot wear that to my meeting with Professor Gardener." You deadpanned, hitting her lightly on the arm.

"I meant the bar. Your mind went there." She smiled, "But you should do that too, ugh I want him to go in depth with me." Groaning, she leant her head on your shoulder.

"Marie!" You exclaimed, jaw hanging open in shock. "You need to get laid girl, you should totally look for someone tonight."

"I was already planning on it." She smirked. "You better wear that dress."

----

You did wear the dress. The sparkly red fabric glittering as you snapped a picture for Penelope. It stopped at the top of your thighs, constantly pulling it down as your heels clicked on the pavement. It was too short, and had too much cleavage in your opinion, but it wasn't your opinion. It was Ivy's.

The halls were desolate and slightly chilly as you made your way to Reid's office. Well, Professor Wright's office. The golden plaque shined in the dim lighting. Checking over your shoulder, before you knocked on the door. You could hear shuffling behind the door before it swung open.

"Come in." He said, head sticking out of the door and looking down the hall.

"I wasn't followed." You rolled your eyes, your hand hitting his chest and kicking the door closed. Reaching behind you, clicking the lock shut you look around the office and step further in. "What do you want Reid?"

Standing across from him, hands resting on the back of the armchair opposite his desk. He looked up from the papers on his desk.

"What are you wearing?" It tumbled out of his mouth and his eyebrows scrunched together.

You matched his look of confusion. "A dress?" It wasn't like he hadn't seen you in a mini dress before. You always wore one when you went out with the team. Maybe not one this short or low cut, but a minidress nonetheless.

"Does Hotch know you're going out?" He asked, brows still furrowed.

"Yes, Professor Gardener." You snarked, rolling your eyes and crossing your arms across your chest.

He sucked in a breath, "I wanted to talk to you about your essay."

"Are you serious?" You scoffed, stalking around to the other side of the desk.

You leant across the desk, plucking out a red pen from the pot. Uncapping it and writing on your own paper. A. "There we go, now we don't have to talk about it."

"That's not-"

"Precise, correct, fair?" You laughed, straightening your back and you went to grab your handbag off of the table where you had dumped it.

But he snatched it out of your grasp, unzipping it and digging through it.

"What the fuck Reid?"

He held up the condoms that you had shoved into your bag. "Are you going to sleep with a college student?" His voice was coated with disdain.

"I don't think that's your business is it, Professor?" You lean forward, trying to snatch them out of his grip.

"As your Professor, no. But as your superior agent, it is." He moved backwards, stopping your waving grip. The smirk you had become acquainted with.

"I'm not going to fuck a college student. But I might just, if it pisses you off so much." You pouted in his face, heavy breaths making your chest rise and fall in his face. "I know you're a virgin Reid but Jesus."

That caught him off guard, giving you the opportunity to snatch them back and slide them back into your handbag. "Maybe we won't even use these."

"I'm not a virgin." He gritted through his teeth, glaring at your bare back.

You can't help but laugh out loud at that, "I'll believe it when I see it." Your hair shakes with your head, striding towards the door.

The smell of him hits you before you feel him. Your hand stilled as it reached for the doorknob, the same scent that hit you when he stopped you from falling down the stairs. His grip on your bicep was familiar, the tips of his fingers digging in as his other hand brushed your hair to one side.

"You are insufferable." He whispered, warm breath hitting the shell of your ear.

It was like you had forgotten how to breathe. He was inching closer to you, the warmth of his chest radiating against your back. "Reid." You sighed.

"Professor." He corrected, spinning you around and pushing you against the door roughly. "If anyone gets to cum inside of you tonight, It's going to be me."

Your head thumped backwards, eyebrows pulling together as his eyes met yours. It was like you had lost all sense, you hated Reid. But the mention of him cumming inside you had any rational abandoned.

"Does that sound good?" He hummed.

"Yes, Professor Reid." You sighed.

"Fuck." He growled before pressing his lips into yours. Your hands came forward to grip onto the lapels on his blazer, pulling him closer. His lips were softer than you expected, contrasted with his teeth coming out to yank on your bottom lip.

Your bag dropped to the floor with a thud. As his hands, the hands you had spent countless lectures staring at, started to wander. Long fingers travelled down your back, pulling up goosebumps in their wake. Then, his hands scooped you up, legs wrapping around his hips as he pressed you into the door.

His hardness pushed into you, making you gasp out and slide your hands into his hair and giving it a light tug. He takes the opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth, walking you across the room and sliding the papers and pens off the desk. They hit the floor with a clatter as he lowered you down.

Both of you panted as he separated, a line of spit connecting you between your lips. Neither of you said anything for a beat, just staring at each other with blown pupils.

A second later, he cupped your jaw and pulled your back straight, kissing you again.

Now it was your turn for your hands to wander, slotting your hands under his blazer and pushing it off and it hit the floor gently. Then, your hands came to fiddle with the buckle on his belt. It clinked loudly as you whipped it out of the belt loops. The button popped open not long after.

He made work of your dress, pulling it up and letting it pool around your hips. Not even taking your panties off, just sliding them to the side as the pads of his fingers come into contact with your clit.

"Jesus!" You gasped out, pulling him closer with your ankle. Painted nails sliding down the front of his brown corduroy slacks and cupping his dick.

His eyes rake down you, dress pulled up, panties to the side. Eyes hooded, chest heaving desperately as you throw your head back.

"You look, divine." He whispered into your ear, the intimacy of it took you by surprise. His finger still worked against your clit, leaving you writhing and gasping under his gaze.

You shoved his slacks down, his white boxer shorts followed not long after. His compliment sent a fire through your veins and a desperation to have him inside you take over.

His fingers pulled off of you, your whining halted. "Hurry up and fuck me!" You groaned, wrapping your legs around his hips. Your heel dug into his backside and it fell to the floor.

He took his dick in his hand, looking down at you. The tip hit against your clit and he slid it up and down through your wetness. "Ah, ah, ah." He teased, refusing to push in, just leaving you with the delicious pressure of almost. "Say please."

"Oh, fuck off." You sigh, trying anything to get closer. Just anything to get him inside you.

He pulled his dick away, and it was like your brain had melted any rationality away. "Please, Reid." You pleaded, knuckles turning white at how hard you were gripping the edge of his desk. "Professor, please." You looked up at him through your lashes.

Then, he finally gave you what you wanted. He pressed his forehead to yours just as he sank into you. He was bigger than you thought he'd be. Not that you'd thought about it. The head brushed past your g spot as he bottomed out.

You couldn't help the almost scream that came from you. "Spencer!"

You had never called him Spencer, most of the time you didn't even address him. But any worry left your mind after hearing his groan as he pulled most of the way out, before slamming into you again.

His lips attached to your neck and your toes curled inside your heels. "No marks." You panted out.

Nodding into the crook of your neck, he slid his hands under you. He lifted you slightly, the new angle letting him pound deeper inside you. This lead to a string of moans to explode from your chest and his hand clamped over your mouth to keep you quiet.

He wasn't doing a good job of keeping quiet himself. Panting and groaning into your neck, teeth scratching your earlobe. Your hands screwed into the front of his shirt, whining helplessly at the brutal pace he was fucking you with.

"S-spencer." You both fall backwards, your back flat on the cool wooden desk and him hunched over you never faltering.

"You're much more bearable like this." He smirked down at you, reviling in the state he had you in. A fucked out pink flush painted across your cheeks, tits bouncing with every thrust that coaxed a wet noise from your pussy every time he slapped against it.

You tried to form a rebuttal, but what came out was babbling that vaugly sounded like hsi name. Desperately, pulling him closer with your nails scratching down his back.

"Awh, poor baby." He teased, "Can't you speak?"

The mocking had your head reeling and your walls clenching around him. The teasing, his body pressing you into the desk, the unrelenting pace and the smell of him was all just too much. It had the coil inside you ready to snap.

Your eyes meet his again and you slam your mouth to his. Tongue peeking into your mouth as your thighs started to tremble. You had your toes curled so hard that your heels slid off your feet and falling to the floor. Spencer's hand snaked down and hit your clit again, moving the wetness around with his fingers.

It had lightening bolts shooting through your spine and the coil in your belly to snap. Nails digging into his shoulder blades and a too loud cry of his name. "Spencer!" It almost echoed around the room as he fucked you through your orgasm, leaving you tightening and fluttering around his cock.

Then, he was cumming himself, with a similar groan of your name and a few more deep thrusts that sent your eyes rolling. His release was warm inside of you, he paused for a second. Letting it pool inside of you and leaving you both breathing into each others mouth's. His dick slid out of you, pussy clenching around emptiness. Gently, he moved your underwear back with a tenderness you wouldn't have expected.

Suddenly, the feeling of his cum pooling in your panties, had you hurtling back to reality. It was like a cool bucket of water had been thrown over you.

It was Reid. You and Reid had sex. Not even sex, fucked. He was technically your professor. And you had his cum dripping out of you.

You yanked your dress down, refusing to look him in the eye.

"That can't happen again." He called over his shoulder as you grabbed your bag. Piling the lip gloss that had spilled all over the floor when it had fallen from your fingers.

"I know." You commented, clicking the lock open and the door.

"Be careful, and you can call me if you need me to come and get you." He gave you that tight lipped smile he did when he felt awkward.

"Will do." You mirrored his face, your hair falling in front of your face and closing the door with a soft click.

Your dress was missing sparkles from all over and you had six missed calls from Marie, and you took off into the city.

----

The bar was exactly as Marie had described. It was slightly tacky with bright coloured lights with ocean themed drinks. Everyone was walking around with blue drinks with fish shaped ice cubes, sharks sticking from the top.

"Ivy!" Marie called, waving you over from the booth they had grabbed in the corner.

"Hey." You smiled and sidled into the booth next to Sarah.

"What did Professor Gardener want?" Sarah asked, close to your ear, cutting through the thumping pop music.

"Apparently, I did really well on my essay. There was just a couple mistakes he wanted me to clear up for next time." You smiled, casting a look towards the bar. "I'm going to go and get a drink! I'll be back."

The drink was overly sweet, Penelope would have loved it. The grenadine turned the blue drink a light purple.

"So tell us what mark you got, you can't leave us hanging girl." Marie grasped onto your arm. "Also what happened with Professor Gardenerrr?" She teased lightly and Chloe smacked her on the arm.

"I got a 97." You feigned a blush, hiding you face behind your hair.

Marie and Chloe gasped, excitedly shaking you back and forth. Some of your drink sloshing over the rim and making the bar table more sticky than it already was.

"You're going to get the credits that you need toats, oh my god we need to throw you a graduation party." She praised, her face lit up in the same way you had seen it so many times.

Just as you went to agree, head already nodding.

"Ivy, that guy over there is so looking at you." Sarah cut across, pointing a finger across the bar.

Your eyes followed her finger to find a very smiley Derek Morgan. You smile back at him with a small wave.

"Well go talk to him! He's so hot!" Chloe exclaimed, "Plus you deserve it after such a good essay."

Your eyes darted between them and him, pretending to give a moment of deliberation. Before standing up and glancing over your shoulder. "If he's weird, I'm coming back."

Winding your way through the crowded bar, smoothly directing yourself between sweaty bodies until you got to the booth. You slid up next to Morgan, your side pressing up against his.

"This dress is a gift from Penelope I assume." He whispered into your ear and he wrapped his arm around your shoulders.

"How could you tell?" You said back, looking back to the table of girls looking towards you expectantly. Sticking your thumb up towards them, you turn towards Derek fully.

"Have you been dancing with someone else babybird?" He asked, still leaned in close.

"No, why?" You scrunched your eyebrows.

"You smell like another man."

It felt like your stomach dropped to your feet, and you hoped and prayed that he wouldn't recognise the scent. Suddenly, it was like you could feel the cum that was wetting your panties through. The shame burned bright on your cheeks.

"Yikes, I need to get rid of my perfume." Joking, you elbowed him, "Go for a smoke?" You pulled the packet out of your purse and waved it in his face.

As the two of you stepped out of the bar you sent Marie a message. 'Going home with hot stuff, see you wednesday. ;)'

The cool air hit and was very, very welcome. Bricks pressed into your back and you let out a long, deep sigh. Lighting up the cigarette and holding it towards Derek.

"I don't smoke." He smiled, watching you puff out smoke.

"One of the girls I was with, Sarah. Get Pen to look into her, she was acting weird about my meeting with Reid." You throw a look over your shoulder and see Marie and the girls looking at you expectantly. "I think we're being watched." You murmured, leaning close to Derek's ear.

His muscles flexed under your trailing grip. "Want to get out of here?"

"Yeah." You nod, throwing a sheepish glance over your shoulder and a small wave to the girls who definitely weren't looking through the window.

Turning the corner there was a familiar squad car waiting for you.

----

Again, you spent your weekend hunched over a conference table. Files piled up around your head. The team had gone all in on Sarah, and the deeper you dug, the more she looked like your unsub.

"Her grades have been steadily dropping for the last few semesters." Emily commented, putting another file in the completed bin.

"Ah-Ha!" Penelope exclaimed, her face popping up on the monitor. "Recently, Sarah's adoptive Mom died. It didn't come up in the original searches because she wasn't offically adopted. The papers never went through."

"So we've got our stressor." Hotch nodded, his arms crossed tensely in the corner of the room. "Reid, have you noticed anything during class?"

As he started talking, you realised you hadn't looked over once. It was like he wasn't even there. "She seemed pretty normal until I read through the essay she handed in. Her critique of the ethics I set was neither for or against. But was more arguing that murder isn't entirely immoral." He explained, taking a sip from his coffee before continuing.

"Her argument was that neither lying or committing the murder is immoral. As both have their own moral explanations." He continued.

"Like lying to the murderer, or killing in self defence." You said without thought, his brown eyes meeting yours. Gaze dropped to your swirling cup of coffee, there was no escape from reminders of him.

"Wow babybird, they'll make a philosopher of you yet." Emily smiled, JJ giggled. "But what's the plan to get her to act again."

Rossi started to plan, "Release the grades publicly, put a select few people at the top of the list. We put an agent on everyone on the top of the list."

"She already thinks babybird has done well. So we stick her in a college dorm and wait. Also." He paused, looking between you and Reid. "If we were to drum up some rumours." He clicked his tongue, holding back a smirk.

Penelope squealed through the screen, "Are you telling me the garden is going to grow some ivy?" Her bottom lip pulled in between her teeth.

"What?" Reid asked, confused.

"Only if the two of you are comfortable." Hotch said at the same time and you sank deeper into the chair. Face burning as bright as a christmas light.

"Oh God." You groaned, head in your hands. Peeking through your fingers at Reid's face paling after JJ had kindly explained it into his ear. Finally, you made real eye contact for the first time all morning.

"We'll do it." He confirmed with a nod, and you a slightly less sure one.

"Oh my God!" Penelope cried, "It's like a cringe romcom. You should wear that mini skirt!"

"Garcia." Hotch warned, "Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Yes."

Your eyes still locked together, you had to remind you it was for a case. All of it was for a case. No matter how fast your heart was beating. None of it was real.

----

The mini skirt was worn. Pleats brushing the tops of your thighs, falling right at the curve of your ass. The shirt you were wearing had one too many buttons undone.

Class hadn't started, it was just you and Reid in your meticulously planned play. Standing at his desk with your open, empty notebook. The bend of your back too salacious for just a teacher and student. His warmth radiated on your back as his arm reached around you, finger running down the blank page. You swore you could feel him starting to grow against your ass. Goosebumps pulled up on your skin, it wasn't real. It was a waiting game and you were begging for someone to catch you.

And someone did. Marie, Chloe and Sarah came bustling in. They paused in the doorway as the two of you jumped apart in fake shock.

"Um, thank you." You stuttered shyly, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. Eyes planted firmly at your shoes, toes tapping on the floor and making your way to your front row seat.

Marie scrambled to your side, dragging you down into the seat as everyone else made their way in. "What the hell was that?"

"I don't know what you mean." Your voice ticked up, eyes raking him up and down.

"Mhm." She hummed, eyebrow raised.

You weren't listening to anything he was saying. Shamelessly, eye fucking him as he explained things to the class. Lip bitten in between your teeth and tongue wetting your lips. Out of the corner of your eye, the three of them couldn't help but glance over.

He was just as intense back, every wave of his hands sending you back to having your brain fucked out on his desk. The lines were blurring between Ivy and Gardener and you and Reid. And you weren't sure if you minded.

Then, your pen rolled off the wooden desk, clattering to the ground and silencing his rambling. Halting teaching, striding towards your desk. When he crouched, your legs uncrossed. Revealing the damp spot that was ever present on your panties.

It sent him stuttering, "Y-your pen... Ivy."

"Thank you, Professor." The pen made home in between your lips, looking up at him through your lashes. Ivy had disappeared, it felt like it was just you and Reid in the room. Everyone else melted away.

He spent the rest of the lecture, glancing over to you every few seconds. Wiping sweaty palms down the front of his pants. "Alright!" He concluded, "I think that's enough for today. Oh! But before you go. Your essays, I'll hand them out."

He travelled back to front. Telling polite good jobs, or this needs improvements. Until, he got to the front row. Chloe and Marie got a good job, a kind nod, that left them smiling at their marks.

But then came Sarah, he slid the paper across the desk upside down with a tight smile on his face. And then you, a huge smile on his face, hand reaching out to your shoulder. It wasn't real.

"See me after class." His thumb brushed a strand of hair from your shoulder, before turning to the rest of the class. "Alright! See you next week!"

Hanging around, you waved goodbye to Marie and Chloe. Sarah had disappeared quickly, throwing a look you couldn't quite read over her shoulder before turning the corner.

The door slammed close, but the tight air didn't diffuse. You drifted to the other side, leaning on your desk. You could hear him breathing, hands gripping the desk, back hunched over. The lines had blurred, it wasn't Ivy's underwear that were soaked through. It was yours.

"Reid-" You started, his name coming out more like an awkward squeak.

"Spencer." He cut you off, voice gruff and he finally straightened up. His brown leather shoes, clicked on the tiled floor. A slow, echoing rhythm that made you look up from your swinging feet.

"Look, I'm sorry." You sighed, looking everywhere but his face. "I took it too far." Mouth claggy, hands sweaty.

"Hmm," He hummed, hand darting out and gripped your jaw, forcing you to look up at him. "Are you sorry? The state of your panties says otherwise."

His fingers lingered at the crook of your knee. Softly, dragging up your thigh but stopping right before they could hit exactly where you wanted.

You whined, a high pitched, pathetic noise. "Spencer."

The look in his eyes lit you on fire. Tilting your head up, short breaths puffing from your lips. "Please."

His lips pressed against yours, tilting your neck up to meet his mouth. You groaned into his mouth, the noise silenced by his tongue dipping into your mouth. One hand brushed over your underwear, pressing into your clit lightly, the other gripped into your waist. Bringing you to the edge of the desk, keeping you exactly where he wanted you. At his mercy.

It was torture, the feather light touches giving you only a second of relief. He was smirking, the slight stubble that had grown in scratching at your chin.

At your wits end, you bite into his bottom lip. Teeth sinking into the skin and pulling back lightly. The two of you breathing in the others mouth, minty remnants coat your tongue.

"I swear to God Reid." You panted, hips bucking upwards into his fingers, "You are driving me crazy."

"I'm driving you crazy?" He scoffed, "You came in, wearing that tiny skirt. Basically bent over in front of me, then flashed me your wet panties, all while I was teaching." His tongue darted out, licking a long stripe up the column of your throat.

"Hotch's orders." You gasp, hand digging into his ragged curls and tugged him backwards.

He laughed, a mocking ring. "Oh I'm sure, I bet he told you to spread your legs for me. I wonder what he would say if I reported back? Huh babybird?"

The nickname out of his mouth had your head reeling, a complete opposite to the usual softness that came from Derek or Emily.

"I wonder what he would say, if I told him one of his best agents crumbled at the sight of me in a mini dress?" You shot back, hand cupping his now fully hard dick.

Finally, he pulled your panties down your legs. And slid them into his back pocket, his fingers slipping inside of you.

"Fuck Spencer!" You cried out, now fumbling at his belt. Clammy hands struggling with the buckle, arms falling weak as Spencer's fingers started to thrust in and out of you. A punishing pace, eyes rolling into the back of your head.

Every press of his fingers had a loud squelch bouncing around the lecture hall. Twitching his fingers upwards, brushing your g spot and laughing at your body falling limp. You used him as a support beam, slumped over in pleasure. He pressed a soft kiss to the top of your hair.

"Feel good baby?" He asked, voice turning soft.

"Mhm." You hummed, his fingers turning your brain to mush. "Close." You sighed into his chest.

"Good girl." He smiled, soft kisses peppered along the crook of your neck and collarbone.

The kind praise coming from Spencer of all people, had you hurling over the edge. Toes curling and hands desperately digging into his shoulder blades. Your thighs shook, clamping around his wrist tightly.

"Fucking hell." You sighed, breath warm on his ear as you pulled him into a soft kiss. It left your heart racing, almost exploding out of your chest.

You were holding on to him like a lifeline, he was holding onto you in a similar vein. His belt buckle clinked, pants pooling at his knees, before sliding into your warmth.

Still sensitive from a moment ago, your lips dug into your lip as he began to gently thrust. It was tender, a gentle rocking in and out. Soft strokes pulling through your hair. Smooth hands trailing up your spine.

It was almost too much. Too different. He wasn't being condescending, there was no mocking. Just sweet cooing in your ear that made you clench around him. Incoherent babbling of his name fell from your lips.

Then, he whispered your name. A gentle, soft noise that had you cumming around him. Stars bloomed behind your eye as you came, a whimpering moan falling from your lips.

He followed not long after you, pressing his forehead to yours. Chanting your name over and over, he released inside of you. A curl fell, sticking to him. He looked charming, you thought. Leaning down, he kissed you again, slow and languid.

It all felt too real.

"Um." You started, looking up at him. Pink cheeks and a shy smile, "Thank you."

"And thank you." He said, as he moved a fallen strand of hair away from your eyes.

"Can I have my panties back?" You bit your lip.

For a second, you just stared at him. Playing with your fingers, you started to giggle, and so did he. The laughter was infectious, everything was light. It was foreign, you weren't going at each others throats. There was no snarky comments, no corrections.

"Sure." He was smiling, not the smile he did when he was being polite. But the one when Penelope let him ramble about doctor who, or when JJ surprised him with a chocolate covered sprinkled doughnut.

He handed them to you, cool to the touch where they were still damp. There was a pool where his cum had dripped out of you. The desk under you, covered in him.

Shimmying them up your legs, more of him dripped out of you. You grimaced and he smirked.

"Shut up." You grumped, pouting slightly.

Suddenly, there was a rush of people outside of the hall. Another class period had ended. Had you really been in there that long?

"Right."

"Right." He echoed.

"I better head off, time to lure a murderer to my fake apartment." You joked, he didn't laugh. "Kidding."

Turning, you packed your bag and jogged up the stairs, hoping that he couldn't see the huge wet spot on your underwear. You'd never hear the end of it.

"Be careful." He called when you reached the last step with his hands in his pockets rocking back on his heels.

"I will."

----

Sometimes, you wished unsubs were less predictable. You had spotted Sarah two blocks away, she lurked around corners, hid behind signs and she thought the hat she had on was hiding her face.

As soon as you'd seen her, you messaged Hotch. By the time you reached the apartment block you'd seen three squad cars. The front entrance was propped open so she could follow you right on in.

And she did. Apartment 6B was on the third floor. When you got to the second the front entrance slammed closed. She was not far behind you now.

Anyone with eyes could tell no one lived in apartment 6B, it was bland as anything. The walls were stark white, all the furniture was drab grey. There was nothing personal at all. No photos on the walls, no trinkets sprawled on every surface.

You had left the door unlocked behind you, and dumped your bag on the boring, rough couch. Walking to the kitchen, you slid open the door by the sink. Your gun sat inside, exactly where Derek had left it. Him and JJ were in your 'bedroom', waiting for the signal.

A few seconds later, there was a knock on the door.

"Coming!" You called, sliding your gun into the waistband of your skirt and made your way to the door. "Sarah!" You gasped, then tilted your head, taking a pause. "How... do you know where I live?" You asked, furrowing your brows.

"You bitch!" She growled, immediately jumping at you. A knife that she had hidden behind her back at the ready. Now, that was an escalation.

Your hand gripped her forearm, trying to wrangle the knife from her grasp. The two of you crashed into the wall, the tip of the knife scratched against your shoulder. Dark blood stained your shirt.

"Sarah put the knife down." You pleaded, the air puffing out of your lungs as you fell to the floor. The coffee table's legs crashing under your back.

"You're a no good slut." Sarah lifted the knife, ready to strike down upon you. Derek and JJ came running out of the bedroom, guns drawn and shouting.

"FBI! Put the knife down!" Derek barked, moving in on her.

The crazed look in her eyes told you she wasn't going to relent. Scrambling back, you swept her legs out from under her. Her ribs crashed into your legs and the knife fell from her grip. It sliced your calf, the blood running down and turning your white sock red.

They moved in, yanking her off of your legs and pulling her arms behind her. Cuffs clinked as he read her, her rights. JJ rushed to your side, kneeling beside you.

"Are you ok?" She flustered, hand grasping onto your uninjured shoulder.

"I'm fine." You nodded, smoothing down your skirt. You hissed when her finger prodded at your leg. "Ow!"

She laughed lightly, "Cmon, there's an ambulance outside." She helped you up, supporting you as you hobbled down the staircase and out onto the street.

You get forced into the back of an ambulance, Hotch stood guard at the door. The paramedics started to pepper you with questions.

"Did you hit your head?" She shined a torch in your eyes, checking for signs of a concussion.

"No," You shake your head. "Just the slashes." You confirmed and slid your shirt off of your shoulder.

"Alright, you'll need a couple stitches in each one. We can do it here." She explained, starting to stitch you up. "You'll need to take it easy for a couple of weeks." She said, with a pointed glance towards Hotch.

You sat in the back of the ambulance, legs swinging as they processed Sarah.

"Hey." Spencer said, sitting down next to you. "I heard you got quite roughed up."

"I'm ok." You smiled, head resting on the side of the ambulance.

"Uh, I got you something." He coughed, rummaging around in his pocket and pulled out a red lollipop. "The sugar will be good for keeping your energy up after losing blood. It tricks your brain into thinking you're fine. Endorphins and stuff."

"It tricks your brain into thinking you're fine. Endorphins and stuff." You said at the same time, holding back a laugh at his face. "You said the same to Em when she got grazed two months ago."

"Do you memorise everything I say?" He smirked.

"Well if I didn't how could I be precise? Professor Reid." You batted your eyelashes at him.

"Don't." He warned with a finger waved in your face, clambering up from the back of the ambulance when he saw Emily walking your way. He gave a wave before heading over to the rest of the team.

Unwrapping the treat with a loud crinkle, you called out. "Spencer!"

He turned and raised his brows.

"Thank you!" Popping it into your mouth, as Emily sat down next to you.

"Since when do you call him Spencer?" She asked, eyes darting between you.

"Recent development." You shrugged, trying not to stare.

"We told you, you just needed to fuck it out." She smiled, bumping your good shoulder with hers. "Was it the dress? Cuz I'd so do you in that."

"Shut up." You grumbled, cheeks heating up. Going even more red as you locked eyes with Spencer.

"Babybird and pretty boy sittin in a tree." She whispered in your ear, then doubled over laughing after you jabbed your elbow into her ribs.

----

“You should pick those up.” He states, his face stony. “And file these.” The thump of the files hit the top of the cabinet and the door slams again but this time with his departure.

You sigh, roughly picking up each piece of paper and shoving it back into the manilla folder and each of Hotch’s slot into their spots. “Oh I’m Agent Hotchner and I can tell you to do whatever I want because we fucked before we knew you’d be my subordinate.” You mutter under your breath as you put each folder away. Shutting the file cabinet with a thud.

—

Another day, another case. A call had taken you to bum fuck no where in Kansas. The flight had taken three hours, then a three hour drive after that. The town, Green Village, had a population of only 1000 people. The police had your office in one of two interrogation rooms they had, not an office to spare.

“Well someone has to know the Unsub.” JJ sighs, “You can’t hide in a town like this. Anyone new would stir things up and would immediately be suspicious, but I haven’t heard any whispers.” She crosses her arms and taps her foot, frustrated.

“We have to consider they might protect each other.” Emily says, looking over her shoulder and pushing the door closed, “And that includes the PD.”

“We’ve got no connection between the victims - yet.” Derek runs a hand over his face. “No gender or sexuality correlation. So maybe it’s just pure rage.”

“But with a community this small, everyone is connected. There’s just got to be something we haven’t found yet.” You say, tipping back in the metal interrogation chair.

“Garcia’s looking for it.” Hotch snaps, turning his back to you sharply and leans against the evidence board.

You roll your eyes at his back, flipping open a file and scanning the words on the page. The silence hangs in air and Emily awkwardly clears her throat.

“Right.” Hotch says, “Prentiss and L/N go and interview the locals, see if they’re suspicious of anyone. Morgan and Reid go to the coroners and see if you can find anything on the bodies. JJ you’re with me.”

You couldn’t get out of there faster, snatching the car keys off of the desk and nodding to Emily striding out of the room.

“He hates me. It’s been three months and he still hates me.” Gripping the wheel you grind your teeth together.

“He wasn’t sweet on me when I joined.” Emily sighs.

“It has been three months.” You scoff. “You know the other day he almost scared me to death in the file room, made me drop mine all over the floor and then made me file HIS work. The cheek of it.”

“Hmm.” She hums. “Left here.”

“What do you mean? Hmm?” You ask, turning left. The streets were quiet, no kids playing on the streets and the Christmas lights on each house flickering in windows. A blown up Santa waving, plastic cheeks rosy red.

"Nothing." She shrugs. "Another left."

"I know what you're implying and I don't like it." You follow her instructions, another empty street and ominous Christmas decorations. "It's supposed to be a happy time, but now there's someone killing their neighbours." Sighing you pull up to the curb.

"Let's go." She clicks the car door shut and the SUV beeps as you lock it.

The house you walk up to is filled to the brim with decorations. Inflatables stick down to the lawn with tent pegs, fairy lights in every window with coordinated flashing patterns.

"Someone loves the season." Emily snorts as she rattles her knuckles on the door.

You hear shuffling behind the door and a woman wearing a Santa outfit pulls open the door.

"Hi Ma'am we're from the FBI." Both of you flash your credentials in her direction. "We just have some questions about your neighbour, Ava Right."

"Oh." Her shoulders slump and she removes the red and white hat from her head, smoothing down her hair. "Come in."

She sits on the opposite couch to you, the bobble on her hat dragging along the floor.

“What can you tell us about Ava, what she did every day, how well people knew her.” Emily asks, clasping her hands together.

“She was lovely. She worked at the local grocery store, always helped the elderly take their groceries to their car.” She wipes a tear away from the corner of her eye.

“Do you know if there was anyone in the community, that maybe didn’t like Ava. A grievance of sorts. Absolutely anything minor could be of use to us.” You ask, leaning towards her.

“No!” She exclaims. “Everyone loved her.” More tears leak from her, a steady stream down her cheeks.

“Alright. Thank you for your help, if you think of anything, anything at all. Give me a call.” You hand her your card, pressing your hands on hers.

On the way back to your car, you pause. Eyes gazing over the yellow police tape across the street. It feels different, just not something you can put your finger on.

Emily drives to the next street, only a stone throw away.

“This place really is small. We didn’t even need the car.” You joke. “I wonder if we’ll get back for Christmas.” You say absentmindedly, admiring all of the glowing lights.

“There’s like five suspects, we will.” Emily pulls up, roughly pressing the brake. “Sorry! I thought it was further along.”

"I'm not letting you drive again." Hand shooting up to your neck, "You almost gave me whiplash." The seatbelt zips up to the side of you, the metal buckle flailing.

The heels of your boots clack on the pavement and the both of you rattle on the door again, the circular wreath shaking as you do. A man opens the door this time, donning a Christmas sweater with an obnoxiously large reindeer on it, the pompom nose shaking as he let you in.

"What can you tell us about your neighbour, John Clemmons. What he did day to day, how the community felt about him." You start, hands clasped on your knees.

"He was a dick." The man scoffs. "I mean RIP and everything but all he did was sit on his porch, drink beer and hurl abuse at everyone who drove past." He squeezes the red bobble for comfort.

"Did anyone have any grievances with him, someone who he would target more than others?" Emily asks, leaning in.

"Uh, no. He was quite fair with his insults, everyone got it." He explains.

You hand him your card. "Give me a call if you think of anything. Anything at all, can be helpful so please don't hesitate to call."

Before you get back into the SUV again, keys firmly in your hand. You lean on the door, gazing over the hood.

"Did they take his decorations down." You point to the bare house, a stark contrast to the rest of the street, the rest of the town even. "Did Ava Right's house have decorations up?"

"I don't think so." Emily shrugs and pops open the door.

"This is going to sound Christmas romcom meets slasher." You swallow. "But what if, they're being killed because they don't like Christmas. Look at this town, they're obsessed." You drag your hands down your face.

You see the thought cross her mind. "Get in."

You drive to the next street, another house covered in yellow tape. Plain white paint, empty windows and an empty plant pot. Surrounded by houses covered in festive decorations.

"You're calling Hotch." You put your foot on the pedal, cruising back to the station. "Imagine if I told he we think they're being killed because they didn't like Christmas. I'd be out of a job!" You snort.

--

The metal interrogation door creaks loudly, the rusty hinges grinding against each other.

"Are you guys insane?" Derek throws his hands up as you and Emily close the door behind you. "What is this a Hallmark movie?"

"You should have seen it. Every single house is covered. Inflatables, animatronics, lights everywhere. It's cultish!" You exclaim. "The only houses' with nothing on and you said there was nothing in evidence. Ava Right, was loved by everyone. John Clemmons was definitely not. The only thing we have been able to find in common between the three is they didn't decorate."

They look at you as if you've grown a second head, files hanging at their sides. Then they spring into action, combing through files with the new information. JJ dials on her phone and puts it in speaker in the middle of the small silver table.

“Is there anyone in the town who really, really loves Christmas?” JJ asks, eyebrows creasing slightly.

“Uhh.” Penelope pauses. “I’ll look through some social media and blogs and I will get back to you.” You hear her furiously type on the other end of the phone before ending it with a click.

“That’s not even the weirdest thing we’ve asked her to look up.” Rossi jokes, licking his finger and turning a page.

You can feel his eyes on your back as you grab a file, anyone with a past was in this pile. You pretend to not notice, feeling the paper between your hands, scanning over the file and discarding it when the prior was stealing a bag of chips. You can’t help it, you look over your shoulder.

Stifling a gasp, hiding it behind a cough you whip your head back around. He was closer than you thought, if you took a step back you’d smack into his chest. Now you swear you can feel the heat radiating off of him, or maybe it was the bright red flush covering your cheeks. Grabbing another file and casually walking to the other side of the room, you look over the edge of the file. He’s already looking at you.

JJ’s phone rattles on the table as it vibrates, snatching you out of the moment. Everyone listening in as Penelope starts.

“I have something. It’s a lot of angry facebook rants from a James Harris.” She says, “I’ve sent some of them to your phones and he has a prior of breaking and entering from a year ago where he broke into someone’s house and assaulted them. He was fined and picked up trash for 6 weeks.”

“This guy, is really serious about Christmas.” Reid states. “Saying things like bad things will happen if you don’t take part in the town tradition and not being in the spirit is cursed.”

“Oh!” Penelope squeaks. “And a year ago, his mom died, right before Christmas.”

“We’ve got a stressor, a motive and a plethora of people that could be at risk. We gotta find him now Hotch.” Derek says, already stood up.

Hotch nods, clearing his throat. “I’ll prep the PD, vest up and meet at the SUV’s.” He barks, the back of his blazer flaying out as he stalks away into the main office.

—

“James Harris!” Derek calls as he knocks on the door roughly. Peering through the window until his living room. “He’s running!” He shouts, booting down the door, cracking the lock. JJ, Rossi and Spencer run down the back lane, gaining entry to the back of the house.

You filter in after Derek, pushing open the kitchen door and scanning. “Clear!” You shout.

Emily clears the living room where he ran from, and Derek the downstairs bathroom. You make your way up the stairs and you clear the upstairs bathroom.

“He’s here!” Hotch calls from the room next to you and you come in, gun drawn.

Harris has a knife in his hand, it glints in the light as he jabs it towards the two of you. He only has one sock on, it hangs off the edge of his foot, the brown t shirt he dons is full of holes and random stains.

“Put the knife down.” Hotch commands taking a small step towards him, barely shuffling. You can hear the rest of the team filing up the stairs. Harris lunges forward, stabbing the knife towards Hotch. You jump foreword, grabbing his forearm, jutting it upwards and the knife clatters to the floor and leaning over to kick it away, it dings against the base board. You slide your gun back in your holster. You kick the back of his leg and it buckles and he falls to his knees and handcuffs are swiftly clinks around his wrists.

Hotch takes over and stands over Harris. He seems to move in slow motion as he yanks Harris up from the floor, reading him his rights and flicking his hair from his forehead, a single curled strand stays stuck down.

He hauls Harris into the back of a cruiser, slamming the door behind him, the glass in the window wobbling.

“Are you ok?” Hotch asks, the velcro on his vest ripping apart.

You try to not look taken aback. Failing miserably, you stumble back. “Uhh, yeah.” You pause, swallowing thickly. “Are you?”

“Yes, Agent.” He’s curt and short. Nodding at you, he turns away from you and starts to debrief with the local police.

Just then, snow begins to fall around you in sheets. A snowflake lands on the tip of your nose, melting and running down your lip.

“Do you think we’ll be able to fly back?” Emily asks, coming to a halt next to you and looking up at the sky.

“Depending on the next hour, if it keeps falling at this rate and if it covers the runway, which it will. So most likely not.” Spencer says, looking up himself. “Did you know that every single snowflake is different, not a single one with the same formation.”

“I don’t even want to think of the hotel in this place.” Rossi sighs.

--

"I'm so sorry but as we weren't expecting guests and it being the holidays and everything we only have four rooms left." The clerk says, pulling the keys off of the board and sliding them over. "It's three singles and one double room."

Before you could even debate Rossi snatches the key for the double room, the metal jingling as he stalks away. "Goodnight suckers!"

"He's lucky he's old." Derek scoffs.

"I heard that!"

"I call JJ!" Emily links arms with JJ, grabbing a set of keys,.

"I guess it's you and me pretty boy." Derek laughs, "I will kick you out if you snore."

"I don't snore!" Spencer exclaims, head whipping over to Derek.

Staring at the singular key left on the desk you feel your stomach drop to your feet. "No no no no." You point at them, "This is not happening absolutely not." You glance over your shoulder to make sure he's not behind you, after making that mistake one to many times. "I'll watch a Russian film with you, in the original" You move your way to Derek, "I'll set you up with one of my girlfriends."

"No woman is making me spend a night rooming with Hotch." Derek laughs, already taking steps towards the lift.

"Emily, JJ please!" You plead, pulling your eyebrows together.

"Too late, we're already leaving." They follow Spencer and Derek to the lift and you watch the door close and seal your fate.

You and your go bag thump down on the small couch in the foyer, staring at the door just waiting for Hotch to walk through the door. The toe of your leather black boot digs into the carpet, and you hear the sliding door creak open.

"C'mon roomie." Your smile is tight and not really a smile, you shake the keys in his face and walk towards the lift, hearing him trail behind you. The button to the third floor lights up as the elevator lurches to a stop. “It’s a double room.” You huff, following the signs to the room and sliding the key into the door.

“Fuck.”

You drop your bag. The room is covered in Christmas decorations, a small tree in the corner lights and all. Small confetti is trailed all around the room and a bucket with a bottle of champagne in a bucket of ice. Not to mention, the large double bed in the centre of the room. Not two singles.

Striding across the room you pick up the card next to the chilled champagne. “Congratulations Mr and Mrs Reiner.” You read out loud, huffing and dialling the front desk. Hotch had only just crossed the threshold, holding the door open.

“Hi.” You hum, “Me and my colleague from the FBI are here, I think you’ve given us the wrong room.” You pause for her answer. “Oh. Can we drink the wine? Thank you, Merry Christmas!”

He furrows his eyebrows at you.

“She said no.” You cringe, clicking the phone back into place. “And they have no spare rooms.”

“Ahh, I’ll sleep on the couch.” He says, putting his go bag down and kicking his shoes off.

“No!” You exclaim, probably too loudly. “It’s not like it would be the first time we shared a bed - sorry.” You look down at your feet and he clears his throat. It’s awkward.

“I’m going to shower.”

You can hear the water running through the thin wall. You perch on the edge of the double bed, running your hands down your face and pulling your pyjamas out of the go bag and quickly changing. Just a pair of cotton shorts and a vest top, wishing you'd picked something less leggy. The shower squeaks as the water stops.

He steps out of the bathroom. He's wet, water droplets running down his bare chest, some getting caught in his chest hair. The white towel hangs around his hips, stopping just below his knees. His hair is stuck every which way, obviously just towelled. A single curled strand falling down again. hanging on his forehead.

You clear your throat and advert your eyes, staring at the carpet. The Christmas confetti sprinkled all over it. Your Christmas socks digging into said carpet, Santa's face staring back at you.

"Sorry, I forgot my-." He digs around in his go bag.

"Oh no, it's fine." You cant help but gaze back to him. Muscle's tensing as he contorts, still glistening in the light. The gasp you swallow feels like cement and he disappears back into the bathroom to change.

He steps back out. "Agent." He starts, tone back to full professionalism. "What you did today was reckless and outrageously stupid. I have no choice but to suspend you for a week."

"What!" You exclaim, jumping up from the edge of the bed. Running a frustrated hand through your hair.

"There was no need to physically apprehend him. You have a perfectly good gun that you had pointed at him." He's cold again, eyebrows furrowed heavily as he looks down at you.

You cock your head sideways and take a step towards him, a long exhale escaping from your nose. Rolling your eyes and crossing your arms over your chest.

You scoff. "As if you and the rest of the team have never done similar. All of this is just because I came from Strauss' recommendation. And you're so insecure about the status of your job that you refuse to see me for what I am: a good agent."

He takes a stride towards you. "You are a rebellious, crude and idiotic agent, someone who takes absolutely no thought before acting and frankly you shouldn't even be allowed in the field. And that comment makes your suspension two weeks."

"Oh gag me!" You glare at him, the tips of your feet touching. Jaw firm as you both breathe heavily.

"Fuck you." He says, stepping back.

You don't even realise he'd surged foreword until his hands are wrapped around the sides of your face and pulling your lips to his, big hands sliding to the back of your head and holding you there as he pulls your bottom lip between his.

Your nails dig into his shoulders as he backs you to the nearest wall pushing you against it roughly, you hear some of the bulbuls on the tree rattle and fall off, hitting the floor.

His hand draws down your ribs, the gentle contrast sending a chill down your spine. Trailing down your hip and scooping under your ass and pulling your leg over his hip.

You gasp as his growing bulge pushes into you, throwing your head back. He grinds into you and you drag your nails down his back and he groans into your mouth.

“What the fuck are you doing?” You pant, chest heaving up and down, looking up at him in shock.

“I do remember you saying gag me.” He’s also breathing heavily, head dipping down to your neck. His teeth scraping your neck before coming to suck into the crook of your neck.

And it does when you take a sharp inhale and grinding back into you again and yanking you closer by the inside of your leg.

You’re sure you’ve soaked through the flimsy shorts of your pyjamas. You snake a hand down, fingers trailing down his chest, walking downwards. Stroking the patch of hair peeking out through the bottom of his shirt and the waistband of his cotton pyjama bottoms. You travel further down south and cup his now fully hard dick in your hand.

“No underwear?” You ask, wide toothy smile on your face.

“Shut up.” He’s kissing you again, fully scooping you up and throwing you to the bed. You bounce as you hit it, looking up at him from your elbows.

He pulls your shorts off, leaving you bare to his eyes. The way he crawls up the bed with an undeniable hunger in his eyes makes you shiver. His hands slide up the back of your thighs and yank them apart, the cool air hitting your centre.

He licks a long, thick stripe up yo, entrance to clit. Your arms dart out, hands pulling up the crisp white sheets in your fists. The tip of his tongue circles your clit and you gasp out, thighs trying to clasp around his head but you’re thwarted by his strong hold holding them open.

“Fuck!” You cry out, toes curled into the mattress.

His assault to your clit makes you take a deep breath, your eyebrows pulling to and a particularly rough suck lifts your back off of the bed as you moan out.

His mouth moves downwards and his tongue stiffly enters you. Fucking in and out of you with it, your soaked pussy making an echoing squelch. His nose nudges at your clit, and your hand darts to his still damp dark hair. Holding it like reigns as your eyes roll back.

“Aaron!” You whimper, without even thinking about it. “Fuck!” Your hips jump upwards, trying to get as close to his mouth as possible.

He wraps his arms around your legs like a snake does before swallowing its prey, holding you still as your thighs tremble for mercy.

Your breathing quickens, chest rising and falling as the tight string in your pelvis gets close to snapping. He takes another long lick up you before sucking harshly on your clit again and this sends you tumbling over the edge as that tight string snaps.

“Aaron!” You cry again, your abs tensing as you cum on his face, head flying back and your hand still grasped in his hair.

He pulls back, bottom half of his face glistening and he pulls off his shirt, bottoms following quickly after.

It was just as big as you remembered.

You pull off your shirt, both of you bare and just taking a moment to appreciate the sight in front of you.

“Jesus.” He sighs, wiping your wetness from his face with the back of his neck and crawling towards you. “Turn over.”

You snort as you do, rolling over under him and popping up on all fours. “So you don’t want to look at my face?” You joke, pushing back on him.

“Oh I can see your face just fine.” His hand pulls your hair into a ponytail and wrapping it around his wrist and pulling your head backwards and facing the ceiling.

He cages you in, as he finally slides inside of you with a stretch that makes your jaw drop and him smile above you. His thighs hit the back of yours and you cry out again.

Pulling all the way out and slams back in, jerking you forward and knocking the air out of your lungs.

He groans into your ear, teeth grazing the shell of your ear and licking up your neck. “Fuck you’re warm.” He hums as he starts to set a steady pace of fucking into you roughly.

The head of his cock brushes that spot inside of you that makes you cry out so loud you’re sure it echoes off the wall and fills you with deep pity for whoever was in the room next to you.

He bucks into you particularly roughly, pulling you backwards with your hair and pushing you forward with his thrusts. He’s also struggling to keep quiet, moaning himself and a hand coming down to palm your ass.

You can feel every inch of him as he pumps in and out, squeezing tight around him. He drops your hair and it fans out, tickling your back and he lowers his grip to underneath you. He’s heavy on top of you as he fucks you, and you fist the sheets in your hand. No longer pristine and now all creased and roughed up.

You’re close again, and you can tell he his too. His erratic breathing and uneven rhythm, the rasp in each one of his groans.

He pulls your head to the side and capturing you in a searing kiss, his tongue invading your mouth and this sends you hurling over the edge.

“Aaron, fuck fuck fuck!” You cry as your legs shake under you. Pussy clenched around him, squeezing his cock tight and drawing in shaky breaths.

He quickly pulls out, pumping himself in his fist as you collapse flat on the bed. Limbs giving out on you in a post cum bliss.

He whispers your name as he cums over your ass, long, sticky ropes coating you.

“I could look at that all day.” His hands travel up your back and you look over your shoulder rolling your eyes.

“Shut up.” You can’t help the smile on your face.

“Fine fine, I’ll go and get a towel.” He can’t help but slap your ass lightly before disappearing to the bathroom.

The rag is warm as it slides over you, some of the water dripping down the sides.

“I didn’t mean anything I said. You’re a great agent.” His tone is gentle now, so is his wiping. “I should have appreciated you for apprehending him.” He smiles.

“I didn’t mean it either, I don’t think you’re insecure and I always give Strauss good reviews for you.” You smile, as he climbs over into the bed and slides under the covers. However, you get out of the bed and pull the bottle of champagne and pop the cork. “Thank you Mr and not Mrs Reiner.” You take a swig and climb into bed with him, handing him the bottle.

“I just feel sorry for whoever is in the room next to us. You weren’t exactly quiet.” He nudges you.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. That was Mrs Reiner.” You smirk.

--

a/n: This was great fun to write and I'm sorry it didn't come before christmas, but i hope youre all still in the festive spirit!!! Thanks for the request anon!!

join my taglist here!!!

Your hand wraps near the top of the pole and your feet leave the ground, spinning around the pole and swaying your feet.

He’d already started to throw some dollars onto the stage, and you see Hotch at the bar, drink in hand heading over to the stage.

You slam down onto the floor, legs splayed in the splits. He throws more dollars, landing near your legs and you start a floor routine. On all fours you rock to the beat and crawl to the side of the stage the unsub was sat at. You end up shaking your ass in his direction with a quick glance over to Hotch, he was doing everything but looking at you on the stage.

Moving back to the pole, you twist yourself around it, spinning around and catching the light. Your legs push you up the pole, doing the walk around the pole again, swinging yourself up and holding yourself upside down.

You’re on the floor again, in the splits and shaking you ass again, flipping your hair you look to him again, still not watching. However the unsub was showering you in dollars.

Leaning back on your forearms, bringing your heels together with a loud bang. It catches his attention and he finally looks at you, and you widen your eyes.

Luckily, he gets the hint and starts to also throw money in your direction and now it’s his turn to have your ass in his direct eye line.

Refusing to meet his eyes you keep them firmly planted on the unsub who was ticking, hating that you were showing attention to other men.

He coaxes you forward with a wagging finger and you crawl across the stage towards him.

“Can I pay for a private room?” His smile is wide, flashing his wallet and you nod.

“Of course.” You point towards the bouncer, “He will set it up for you, I have to finish my dance.”

And you do. A mix of pole and floor routine and you try to ignore Hotch but you can’t help it. The red light made his jawline look sharper, and his eyebrows look darker. It was clenched and his eyebrows were furrowed, hands gripping the edge of the leather chair. His slacks were pulled tight across his lap as he plants his feet firmly on the floor.

You feel like you’re on fire every time he looks at you, it’s just him watching you closely so you have no excuse for what you do next.

Sliding off the stage you end up stood in between his spread legs, bending over you shake your ass, bringing it down, hovering directly above him.

You feel the strap of your thong lift off, then flicked back down with some rolled up money underneath. It has a tangy sting as it hits your skin.

“Be careful.” He whispers, hand swiping your hair to the side. “I’ll be watching on the cameras, and I definitely pissed him off.”

With that you nod, the music stops and you climb back on the stage as the DJ sends you off, “That was Kitty, she’s new and will be back on the stage later tonight.” You blow a kiss to the club, bending down to scrape all of the money off of the stage, someone in the back whistles.

Rushing off the stage, you dump the money in the dressing room, the other girls getting ready to go on.

“I’d put that in your bucket or someone will pick at it like a crow.” One of the girls calls over her shoulder, mascara wand in hand.

“Keep it, share it between yourselves.” You shrug, almost running through the corridors, slowing when the black suit catches your eye, hunched over the monitors with some of the security guys.

“What’s the signal?” He jumps slightly at your intrusion, turning on his heels and a light cough escapes his throat.

“Three fingers, scouts honour.” He holds them up, his eyes firmly planted on your face, but he can’t help but let his eyes rake down your body. He didn’t even know they made bikinis that small.

“Alright.” You take a long breath in and out, wringing your hands out, “I’ll get him to confess.” You nod, determined and you set off to the private room.

“Man, I couldn’t work with that.” The security guy snorts, a long whistle accompanies it. A cold glare from Hotch silences him, “Right.”

A bouncer leads you to the room, and opens the door for you, shutting it behind you and you give a sheepish wave to the unsub.

“Hey handsome, so before we start i’ve got to go over the rules, just policy.” You start, sitting down on the plush couch next to him. “So you get thirty minutes which you’ve already paid for and once that time is up, Tony will come in and let you know we’re done. At that point you can pay for an additional thirty minutes if you’re not done. No touching, only looking.” You smile sweetly at him, “Apart from the contact I make with you obviously.”

You hide behind your hair slightly, an airy giggle fills the room and you click play on the stereo. It’s a slow melody, quieter than normal so the bug hidden behind the couch could pick up the audio.

“So what do you do for work?” You ask, straddling his lap, flicking your hair off of your shoulders.

“I work in an office, I’m a lawyer.” It was a lie, you held back the deep eye roll that you wanted to unleash. Instead, you nod and gasp.

“No way! That’s so cool.” Your fingers play with the hair on the back of his neck, “You must make so much money.”

“I mean, I was throwing it at ya.” He winks, the bravado making your stomach churn.

“Thank you, you made the night for sure.” Turning around you sit on his lap, “Works boring,” You shrug. “What do you do for fun?” Biting your lip and glancing over your shoulder.

“Come to places like these.” His hands come to the back of his head, leaning back, spreading his legs more.

“I better be your favourite huh, Josephine’s is the best!” You drop to the splits and move to the pole, doing simple tricks and spins. Enough to keep his attention on you.

“It’s my favourite right now.” You’re back on his lap, grinding lightly.

You let out a mock gasp, “Have you heard about all those girls going missing? I’m so scared to come to work.” You hope and pray he takes the bait, so you can put some full clothes on. “What if it’s me next, yaknow.”

“You’re safe with me, sweetheart.”

“I bet the guy is such a loser, gets no girls or anything. Thinks the stripper is in love with him.” You snort, still on his lap. The muscles in his jaw twitch, and his fingers crick against the leather as he grips the edge of the seat.

“Probably never had a girl even look his way,” You roll your eyes, “Too ugly, bet his face is all crooked.” His leg bounces beneath you.

“Small dick too.” That you were right about, feeling a rather disappointing bulge in your lap, more like a cocktail sausage.

You don’t even see him move, but she’s squeezing the tops of your arms hard, fingers bruising your skin.

“Fuck you bitch!” You knew they had to wait, for him to either admit to the murders or to try and murder you.

It looked like the latter. He’d shoved you against the wall, the tips of your shoes skirting against the wooden floors. His forearm pressed on your throat and your eyes dip down, the tattoo that a witness had described front and centre. The vines climbing up towards your chin.

You’d had enough, knee coming up between his, planting into his balls hard and he stumbles back from you, hand coming back to steady himself as he scrunches to the floor. Finally, the door swings open. Hotch storms in first, gun drawn and handcuffs ready to go. He throws the unsub to the ground, the metal clinking around his wrists and being hauled out by the security guard.

“Are you ok?” His hand hits your bare shoulder and your head snaps up to him, still bent over and catching your breath.

“I’m fine.” Your voice is hoarse, and you nod.

“I’m sorry, we had to wait.” His thumb smooths over your skin and a trail of goosebumps appears in its wake. Your words are caught in your throat, unable to form a coherent sentence without an embarrassing squeak. “You must be cold.”

Shrugging off his blazer, he drapes it over your shoulders and you finally stand upright. It hurts a bit to swallow, and your back presses against the padded wall. "Thank you." You smile at him, the ever present furrow in his brow still there.

"You have to get checked out by the paramedics." He's back to business, back to the hard ass boss, as if you weren't basically grinding on him not even an hour earlier.

His cool stare shocks you back into reality. He was you boss, he didn't want you on his team, and you were basically naked. Quickly, you wrap his jacket around you, covering you down to mid thigh. "I'll get changed and meet you out front."

The girls in the back stare at you like you're an alien.

"You're like a spy?" One of them questions, mouth hanging open.

"No, I work for the FBI. I'm a profiler." You smile, digging around in your duffle bag for your clothes, sweatpants and a baggy t-shirt. Pulling it over your head you lean back in the chair and another one of the girls appear behind you.

"So did you like save our lives."

"Not exactly." You smile, the sweatpants now covering your legs.

"But he would have tried to kill us?" She questions, hands panted on your shoulders, and handing you a makeup wipe.

"Maybe." You shrug.

Its an ambush of hugs then, all of them descend on you covering you in hugs and thanks. They each thank you intensely, one of them even crying lightly.

"So who was the guy that was with you, is he FBI too?" The girl, Diamond, had pulled up a chair as you wipe the glitter from your face.

"Yeah, he's my boss." You glance to his blazer that you had folded and put on the vanity.

The look they all exchange makes your cheeks burn red. "You gave your boss, a lap dance" She giggles, hand flipping through the money you had given to them.

"It wasn't a-" You try to reason, a puff leaving your nose and your head shaking violently.

"It so was." She exclaims, a loud laugh coming from her. "But don't worry it looked like he was having a good time, the veins in his neck looked like they were about to explode. So I'd say he wants to be a lot more than your boss."

You gaze at her in the mirror, long slow blinks as you puff out a long breath. "Have you ever considered becoming a profiler?"

"Have you ever considered becoming a stripper?" She fires back, "You pulled more money than most of us do."

"Been there done that." You laugh, standing up and flinging your duffle over your shoulder. "However, your profile is wrong. The tight neck muscles indicate that he was uncomfortable with me being sat on his lap."

With that, you hold up a hand in a wave and leave out of the back entrance. Heels in hand and you see the SUV waiting directly at the end of the alley.

"You need to get checked out." Hotch says as you as you climb into the car, the door slamming behind you.

"I'll go before we get on the jet tomorrow."

The drive to the hotel was deadly silent, each second ticking by one by one. You could hear the crackle of the gravel under the wheels as the town flew by, unable to look at him directly. Diamonds words echoing in you mind.

The hotel was seedy and cheap, slightly yellow walls and a funky smell that hung around. He hands you your key card without a word, nodding you wander away, waving behind you. Your limbs are heavy as you buzz the door open, flopping face down on the bed. Feet flying up and then tucking them under yourself.

Finding the remote on the side table and you actually take a look around the room. The fading wallpaper is floral and has some weird stains that had no explanation, the bedding at least looked clean and the small desk in the corner looked rickety as if it would fall if you placed anything on it.

The shitty tv show you had picked filled the silence as you lie back on the bed, staring at the.. peeling ceiling. Then a knock rings out, and you groan silently but trudging over to the door anyway. You'd assumed it was Derek or Emily coming to see how you got on.

"Oh." The surprised sound comes from you. It's Hotch, no longer in the suit you had become so familiar with. He's in a plain white t-shirt, and some blue checked bottoms.

"Can I come in?" He asks and you nod, stepping to the side so he can move in. The door clicks closed. He doesn't say anything, just looks.

You shake your head. "Oh sorry, did you want your jacket?" You scurry to your duffle, pulling it out of the bag and outstretching your hand.

He takes it but shakes his head. "I came to check on you." He motions for you to sit on the edge of the bed and you do, feel kicking slightly. The bed dips he joins you on the edge, your hands hanging in your lap. "I'm going to check on your neck." It's not a request, and you don't want to make him hate you more so you tip your head back giving him access to your throat.

His fingers press lightly on your neck, first closer to the edge. No pain comes from that. Then closer and closer to the middle and then onto your windpipe. His breath fans across your face, and you make eye contact for the first time since you planted yourself in his lap ass first.

You take a sharp inhale and it hisses through your teeth and he keeps prodding. "Ow." You say flatly, yanking away from his fingers.

"It'll bruise."

"Well done Sherlock, I wouldn't have guessed that." You roll your eyes and that cold, unmoving expression is back. "Look I'm sorry, I get it It's awkward." You sigh, "You don't want me on the team, Strauss forced you to take me on, I'm a relatively bad profiler, inexperienced. The last thing you want is a lap dance from me."

You stand, walking slowly to the window. Tucking your hands behind you, staring at the rather unimpressive sight of the carpark and a singular dying tree.

The warmth from him hits you first as he appeared behind you, you didn't hear him make his way across the room, surprisingly light on his feet.

“I’m sorry if I haven’t been, welcoming.” His voice is deep and you’re sure your knees almost buckle under you. “I apologise, Strauss has been known to come for my team, our team.”

“I know, she thought I’d give her ammo if she promoted me higher than I ever should have gotten.” You focus on your feet, too scared to turn around, he takes a step back.

“You’re a good agent, tonight you proved that.” His tone is softer than what you’re used to ordering you around in the field, so you turn around.

“Thank you.” Your cheeks burn at the compliment, and your teeth clench to your lip, tasting your cherry lip balm.

You guys stand there for a beat, neither making an effort to leave the others presence.

“And you know, as far lap dances go, it was great.” With that the both of you burst out into laughter doubling over and grabbing your stomach.

“I couldn’t tell by the money you shoved in my underwear.” You giggled, shaking your head, “And that’s me rusty, imagine with some practice.” You joke, but then you hear the words outside of yourself and advert your eyes away from him.

“I think that would end up being a problem for HR.”

You stare at him in disbelief, mouth open and eyes wide, a thick swallow that slightly hurts your throat makes you grimace.

“Do you know how unfair it is,” He steps foreward, “For me to have to focus on anything but you.” Another step, “And then to have to watch you climb all over him in that bikini, that you’re still wearing now.” Another step and he’s directly in front of you. His finger finds his way under the shoulder of your shirt and pings the strap again.

“Jesus.” You whisper, sighing. “I’m glad you liked it.” Your eyes search his and the corner of your mouth ticks up. “If it’s any comfort, it was all for you.”

His lips are on yours as he grips the sides of your face, pulling you up to his lips. They’re softer than you’d imagined, not that you’d been imagining it. Arms snaking around his neck, pressing yourself against him. His fiddle with the hem of your top, pulling it up over your head. Pausing the kissing to drag his eyes down your torso.

“How much did this cost?” His hands circle your waist and lead you backwards to the squeaky bed in the middle of the room.

“I think if you bring it up to Rossi, he might try and strangle me.” You giggle, and the backside of your knees hit the sheets.

He doesn’t find it amusing. “I think we’ve had enough strangling for the night.”

“Right, right.” The smile on your face is unmissable. “Maybe another night.” You wink.

The growl that pools in the bottom of his throat hits your ears and a hand hooks under one of your knees, the other at your waist and throwing you back onto the bed. You bounce and hold yourself up on your elbows.

You bring your feet together again, no heels this time and he yanks off his own shirt. Throwing it to the growing pile of clothes. Your eyes rake over his bare chest and your lip finds home in between my teeth. The way he crawls over you is predatory, eyes dark like you were about to be his last meal.

“You drive me crazy.” He kisses the side of your neck, fingers stroking the rhinestones on the bra.

“I thought you hated me.” Your fingers dig into his shoulder muscles, they’re bigger than they look under the suit.

“Does it feel like I hate you?” He grabs your wrist, guiding it to his cock. The bulge very present in his pyjama bottoms.

“No.”

He chuckles at that, diving back into your neck, kissing down to your boobs. Sucking on the swell of one, leaving a red mark in his wake. The cups of the bra get yanked down and your tits spill out, nipples peaked up to attention.

One gets surrounded by the warmth of his mouth, the other pinched gently in between the pads of his fingers. His tongue circles it, making your back leave the springy mattress in an arch.

He pulls off with a pop, now moving his attention to sliding your sweatpants down your legs. He yanks you forwards by your ankles, face to face with the wet spot on the matching thong.

“I’m tasting this next time.” The buckle of his belt clinks as it hits the floor and his slacks go with them in a crumple. Your face flushes at the thought of a next time.

Grabbing your hips he flips you onto all fours, leaning down and pressing a kiss to one of your asscheeks.

Ruffling through your go bag, you hand him a roll of condoms.

“That’s a lot of condoms.” He snorts.

“Hey! You never know, and see they’re useful.” You bite back, looking over your shoulder.

“Oh, so you’ve thought of it.” He smirks, a light smack hitting your ass where he’d kissed previously.

“I didn’t say tha-.” You’re cut off by him pulling your thong to the side, and his tip nudging inside of you, then the rest of the thickness long after.

Your forehead hits the sheets, and he drags out of you to the tip then all shoving back in at once. The strangled noise that squeaks from you is muffled by the sheets. The head of his cock hits your g-spot every deep, hard thrust that he pumps into you.

“What was that?” He questions as he bottoms out again, hands gripping your hips and bringing you back against him.

“Ah fuck.” Your hands grip the sheets, pulling them up slightly.

He chuckles again, setting into a pace that knocks the breath out of your lungs every single thrust as your hands struggle to keep you up. Fucking into you at a rough pace, ragged gasps leave him as he sneaks his hand under you, grabbing one of your tits as he leans over you, caging you in.

His breath his warm on the shell of your ear, the shift of position making him deeper inside you than before, and your eyes roll back.

You bounce back, meeting each of his thrusts with a press of your ass and the deep groan that erupts from him, eggs you on, matching his rhythm.

Your breathing gets laboured and your knuckles turn white, the pressure building up in your middle at each scrape of him hitting that spongy place inside you.

His fingers slide down your middle, two of them hitting your clit and dragging light circles over it.

“Aaron!” You cry out, never having called him by his full name, his fingers circling faster makes that band inside of you snap. A long winded whine disappearing into the mattress.

He becomes erratic as you cum, the vice like grip throbbing around him. With one last deep thrust, he stills and spills into the condom, panting into your ear.

It’s still for a moment as you both catch your breath, then pulling out, tying the condom off and it thumps into the bin.

He moves around the room quickly, passing your clothes over, turning around as you pull off the rhinestone bikini.

“You just fucked me, you don’t have to turn around when I get changed.” You laugh and pat the bed next to you.

“Strauss is going to have my head.” He states, leaning against the headboard, still shirtless.

“Your head! I’m supposed to be the plant, I think she’d kill me personally.” You laugh.

“I won’t let her do that you know.” He’s serious again, all semblance of a joke gone. “You have a permanent spot on this team.”

“Thank you, Aaron.” You tuck a strand of rouge hair behind your ear, and your head hits his shoulder.

-

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taglist: @jakiki94 @Michasia24

“Yeah, you know him?” The bouncer scrunches his brow.

“Mhm.” You hum. “He told us to come along tonight, could you grab him?” You bite your lip, and he nods, spinning on his foot and disappearing into the bar.

The bouncer yanks the door back open, James lingering behind him. “Hi.” Lifting your hand to waist height you give him a small wave.

“They’re all good, I know her.” He nods, and opens the door wider, letting you in under his arm. Coming up behind you he wraps an arm around your shoulder, leaning into your ear. “You’re going to get me in trouble.” He whispers and you can’t help the light giggle that escapes your lips.

“I won’t tell if you don’t.” You bite your lip and hop up into the bar stool. “First round on you?”

He closes the hatch on the other side of the bar, and sighs. “First round on me. What can I get you?” He grabs two glasses and places them down.

“Double vodka coke.” Your friend chimes in, flashing him a smile.

“Double vodka orange, please.” Pouring the shots and the mixers into the glasses, he slides them over the bar and you pull the straw into your mouth.

“I’ll find you on my break.” He winks, stepping away to go and serve another customer on the other side of the bar.

Pulling your friend away from the bar and over to the booths, each of you slide into opposite sides and you see her shake her head at you.

“What?” You question, sipping on your drink.

“He’s like… thirty.” She raised her eyebrows at you expectantly.

“Thirty five.” You mutter into your straw, glancing over to the bar where James is there shaking a cocktail.

“Thirty five!” She exclaims, bringing a hand up to cover her mouth. “Are you serious?”

“Deadly.”

“Girl, you have a problem.” She laughs and slaps your arm across the table.

“A problem that got us free drinks.” You smile widely, leaning back into the booth. “It’s started to get busy now.”

The dance floor had started to fill up, the music thumping and vibrating in your ears and chest. A couple more doubles later, you were feeling the buzz in the tips of your fingers and toes.

“Do you want to go dance!” She shouts from across the table, shuffling out of the booth and holding out of her hand.

“Yeah, let me chug my drink.” You shout back, gulping down the rest of your drink and placing your hand in hers.

Dancing in the bar was one of your favourite pastimes, coupled with the buzz of a hefty amount of alcohol, a great song and good company, it was unbeatable.

The unmissable thump of the beat, the press of strangers all around you as you raise your hands above your head and your friend wraps hers around your neck.

“Can you get us another drink?” She shouts closer into your ear, nodding you snake your way out of the crowd of tightly packed bodies.

Waiting in the line for the bar you tap your foot on the wooden floor impatiently. You scan the rest of the people cramming the bar. The back of a sleek, black suit catches your eye and the broad shoulders that stretches the material. Long legs, expensive shoes, cropped dark hair. Exactly what you liked.

Ordering your drinks, you keep glancing over, his back still turned. “Thank you!” You mouth to the bartender and glance over your shoulder one more time, hoping to catch a glimpse of his face, and extra hoping it lived up to his ass.

Your heart dropped to the bottom of your stomach. Fortunately, the face very much did live up to the ass. Unfortunately, it just happened to be your dad’s newest golf buddy, one you were told to not mess around with and, one that was a fed who happened to definitely know you weren’t twenty one.

His eyebrows furrow as the two of you make eye contact, you can almost see the cogs turning behind his eyes. Giving him a tight lipped smile and a nod, you duck away into the crowd, disappearing from his eyeline.

“We’re fucked.” You shout into your friends ear, her having found a guy from your criminology class.

“What? Why?” She shouts back, her hand gripping onto his bicep.

“My dad’s friend is here, he’s a fed.” You wrap your lips around your straw and chug half of your drink.

“Ok correction. You’re fucked, i’m of age.” She smiles at you and you roll your eyes.

Then, your phone buzzes in your small bag, pulling it out you see a message from James lighting up the screen.

‘I’m in the smoking area.’

“Are you going to go?” She asks, widening her eyes at you and flicking them down to the phone screen.

“Do you want me to go?” You smirk at her and look at the guy from your criminology class, now moving to put an arm around her.

She nods, and you step away. Before your back even turned the pair started to make out, pushing through the packed crowd.

You’re not as cold outside this time, the vodka you had warming you from inside. It was much quieter out there, however you could still hear the music clearly, fading in and out when the doors opened and closed.

“Hey!” James calls from a bench, cigarette in his hands, he waves you over and pats the seat next to him.

Sitting on the top of the table, feet on the seat you smile down at him. “Hey.” You hold out a hand for the cigarette.

“No.” He laughs, shaking his head back and forth, taking a drag for himself and a swig out of a beer bottle. “I’m not giving you another bad habit.”

“Aww, that’s cute.” You patronise, bending down to his eye level, “So you’ll let me into a bar, serve me drinks underage, and fuck me. But you won’t give me a puff of a cig?” You whisper in his ear, and you’re sure you’ve shocked him into silence. Taking it from his fingers, you bring it to your lips and take a drag.

“That’s what I thought.” You flash your teeth at him, leaning back and you feel his hand snake around your ankle.

“You’re going to get me into trouble.” He says with a snort.

“Yes, she is.” You didn’t know where he had come from, but now he was stood over the two of you at the bench. “Especially because she’s underage.”

“Hello Aaron.” You roll your eyes at him, and you feel James’ hand slip off of your ankle and back to his side.

“What are you doing at a bar.” He states, face stone cold, keeping a close eye on the man next to you.

“I’m not in a bar, I’m sat outside of one. That’s not illegal.” You smirk at him and blow some cigarette smoke in his general direction.

“I saw you inside.” He glares at you. Your eyes scan his body, his suit is expertly pressed, you wonder if he put it on especially for the bar. His black shoes have no scuffs, tie in a tight and precise windsor knot.

“I was never inside of the bar, I have no idea what you’re talking about.” You shrug, leaving an elbow on your knees and then your face in the same hand.

His questioning turns to James, pulling out his badge and flashing it. You groan at his dramatics. “How do you know her?”

“We’re friends.”

“Didn’t look very friendly from where I was standing.” His eyes narrow and you glare with the same intensity back.

“So when a man and a woman love each other very much.” You send a fake pout his way and you can tell you’re starting to push his buttons.

“Does your dad know you’re here?” He asks you, his jaw clenched tight, a hand now coming to rest on his hip.

“What do you think?” The sarcasm drips from your lips and you blow more smoke in his direction, hoping he would clear off.

“Don’t.” His tone is a warning, a warning you were going to ignore.

“My breaks over.” James mutters, clambering out from the bench and giving a nod in your direction before he disappears through the bar door.

“You’re a prick.” You’re sure you growl at him, and blow more smoke in his face, he brings a hand up to waft it away. The grey smoke twists and turns in the air and disperses as his hand cuts through it.

“I said, don’t.” He repeats, his frustration growing, eyebrows pulling together even more.

“Or what?” You do it again. He moves quickly. His hand comes up to your lips and snatches it from your mouth, putting it out under his perfectly shiny shoes. “Hey!”

He takes a swig from the beer bottle in his hand and runs a frustrated hand through his hair. “You shouldn’t be here, it’s illegal.”

“What are you going to do Agent? Arrest me?” You can’t help the giggle that escapes you, he rolls his eyes.

You lean back on your hands, giving you a great angle to look up to him. You feel the bottom of your dress climb up your bare thighs with you leaning back. You make no effort to pull it down.

“He’s too old for you, he’s what 35?” He scoffs, shaking his head, “Go out with a nice boy your own age.”

“What if I don’t want a nice boy my age? What if I want a man?” You were shamelessly flirting now, your father’s words damned. Aaron Hotchner was a tall glass of cool water that you desperately wanted a sip of.

“That’s enough i’m taking you home.” He grabs the top of your forearm, yanking you upwards. “And before you say anything, i’ve had half a beer.”

His hand grips tightly onto your wrist, pulling you away from the bar and down the street to where his very sleek sports car was parked. “Get in.”

His thick arm holds open the door and you climb into the seat and buckle your seatbelt. You cross your arms across your chest with a huff.

“Take me to my apartment, not my dad’s house.” You instruct him.

“I have every right to take you to your dad and tell you you’re underage drinking and sleeping with men almost twice your age.” He glances over at you and you scoff.

“So what do you think he will think when I turn up to the house with another man double my age?” You smirk, and lean back in the seats, the expensive leather touching your skin.

“I’m his friend, he knows I wouldn’t.” He clenches his jaw so hard you think his teeth might crack.

“So why did he tell me to stay away from you?”

This takes him off guard and he looks at you in light shock, spit catching in the back of his mouth, causing him to clear his throat.

“My apartment it is then.” You smile, happy to have got your way. Crossing one leg over the other, your dress rides up again, exposing the soft skin on the tops of your thighs.

He sits in a glowering silence, glaring at the slate grey road in front of him. Knuckles turning white from his hard grip on the steering wheel. His foot pressing down on the pedal hard, halting the car to a full stop.

“Get out.” He orders, tone rough.

You comply, walking around the front of the car, giving him a full view of you, adjusting the deep v neck of your dress. Waggling your fingers at him, an attempt at a wave, you make your way to the front door to the foyer of your apartment.

A hand pushes the door open from above your head and he lets you walk in before him.

“What are you doing?” You ask, flicking your hair over your shoulder.

“Making sure you get to your apartment ok.” He stands next to you as the elevator doors drag open, the silver box is empty.

“I’m not even drunk anymore, you’re so overprotective.” You scoff, striding into the elevator and pressing the button for floor 5.

Leaning against the wall of the elevator, you absentmindedly look at your nails, scraping at the cuticle and pretending to not feel the firey hot glare that was burning a hole through your head. You swore that the elevator was purposely going at the slowest it could, making the ride as gruelling as possible. There was only so long you could stare at your nails.

Finally, the doors separated and you strode to your apartment door, hearing the shoes thumping along behind you. His silence was deafening. Your keys jangle and it slides into the lock. You could feel the breath on the back of your neck.

Stepping in through your apartment door, you spin on your foot and lean the door against your hip, leaving him with not even a glance into your apartment.

“Thanks for the ride.” Smiling at him, you pull your bottom lip into your mouth, yanking at it with your teeth.

“Go to bed.” He grunts, walking away down the corridor and back to the elevator.

“You know it’s a shame.” You start and you watch his step falter but he keeps walking away. “I was looking forward to being fucked by you.”

Not looking for his reaction you close the front door, and pull your dress over your head. You hoped he liked black lace. Glancing down at your watch, the seconds tick by.

A loud knock echoes through your apartment, you decide to make him wait. Sitting on the arm of your couch, still observing your watch face. Another knock comes, this one faster. Deciding to stop the torture, you pull the door open.

Before you can get another snarky comment from between your lips, large hands wrap around your waist and pull you up around his body. Pushing you against the door, his lips meet yours.

You grasp onto his shoulders and kiss him back with a hot intensity that makes him groan into your mouth, and his teeth to pull on your bottom lip. This pulls a moan from your throat and your head to thump back against the door. This leaves the column of your neck exposed, and his lips attach to them, kissing at the base of your jaw. Then to the middle of your throat, sucking shallowly and nipping at the skin leaving a trail of red marks.

“You’re-Lucky-Your-Dad-Is-A-Dick.” He says in between kisses, making his way back up to your lips and planting a rough kiss to punctuate his last word. “Bedroom?” He asks and you point to the door just past the kitchen.

He doesn’t put you down, and carries you across the apartment and opening your bedroom door and laying you gently on your bed.

“You usually wear things like that underneath your dresses?” He asks, eyes dragging down your body, and shrugging off his blazer and laying it in the chair in your room. A hand pulls up and undoes the knot and throws it with his blazer.

“Yeah, jealous?” You smirk, leaning back on your elbows just as you did at the bench earlier, parting your legs slightly.

The first couple buttons on his shirt are pulled open now, and he crawls up the length of your bed. You can see his chest hair, his fingers drag up the length of your leg, hand coming to rest on your hip. “I could still arrest you for underage drinking you know, don’t get snarky.” His deep voice reverberates in your ear, sending a shiver down your spine and a whine crawl from your chest when he bit down on your earlobe.

“Going to handcuff me, Agent.” You bite your lip and pull the insides of your eyebrows together.

He groans and slides his hands up to your lace bra, the texture soft as anything under his fingers. “Another time.” He mumbles, and kisses down your stomach. Coming to a stop at your hips, he bites into your flesh and slides the matching panties down your legs and throws them with his blazer and tie.

He presses kisses to the inside of your thighs, hands snaking under them and gripping them apart. Again, he bites into your skin, leaving a row of pink teeth marks. “Can I?”

“God, yes.” You nod feverishly, looking down at his floppy deep black hair falling over his forehead as his lips attach to your clit and pulling it into his mouth. “Oh fuck!” You cry out and your back arches off the mattress and your hands dart down to the said floppy hair and gripping on to it to ground yourself.

He licks a stripe from your entrance to your clit, flicking his tongue lightly making your toes to curl downwards and the octave of your voice to peak upwards.

“Aaron!” He’s gripping you to his face as he devours you like he might die if he doesn’t get a taste.

Your hands come to grip your floral sheets between your fingers, pulling it up and your thighs clenching around his head. A finger slides up and in between your folds and nudges into your entrance as his mouth still works furiously on your clit and pumps his finger in and out.

“Ah!” A string of moans fly from you, and you’re sure you’re suffocating him in between your legs. You glance down and you see his deep brown eyes looking up at your undoing. And that is enough to push you over the edge and your thighs tremble and you call out his name and your eyes roll back into your head and your head falls back into the pillow.

Opening your eyes, he’s hovering above your head and pops his finger into his mouth, sucking off your juices.

“Take your pants off.” You pant, reaching down and try to fumble with the button, but your arms are still weak from the orgasm that was still clouding your vision.

He pulls them off himself, then his shirt and they join the ever growing pile of clothes on your chair. As he does that, you reach into your bedside table and pull out a condom and pass it over to him.

You almost drool as you see him pull it over his cock, it was big. It looked heavy and like a great time.

“Hurry up and fuck me.” You say in a desperate whisper, pulling him on top of you, tilting your hips upwards.

“Why should I? All you’ve done is be a brat.” He slides the head of his cock along you, resting it at your entrance and leaving it there.

“Please,” You whine, your hands snaking up to his shoulders and digging your nails in gently, “I need it.”

After what feels like an eternity of teasing, the head brushing against your clit making you jolt, his cock slides in and fills you to the brim. “Mmm” You hum as he starts to thrust in and out of you.

“God, you’re tight.” He groans, and you roll him onto his back, attaching your lips to his as you bounce up and down on his length and groaning onto each other’s mouths.

The tip of his cock bucks the spongy part inside of you that makes you cry out so loud you knew your neighbour’s would leave a note on the door in the morning. “Oh, Aaron!”

His hands wrap around your ass for leverage as he plants his feet flat onto the mattress and starts to pound up into you. You swear you can feel your brain melt out of your skull.

You could feel every inch of him as he pumps in and out, driving you crazy and your nails drag down his chest and stroking the soft hair on his chest.

He was letting out moans himself, whispering your name into your ear and groaning deeply into the back of his throat. His thrusts get more frantic as you get closer to the edge again, clamping around him like a vice and kissing him again, slipping your tongue into his mouth.

Your thighs start to shake again, and the short punctual thrusts brush your g-spot just enough to shove you over that delicious edge. Tightening around him you rest your forehead against his as he continues to fuck you through your orgasm small whines pushed out at every thrust, as he releases into the condom himself.

You flop down next to him on the opposite side of your bed. “Jesus.” You sigh, stretching your legs out and arms above your head.

He pulls the condom off, tying it off at the top and placing it in the bin in the corner of the room and he joins you under the sheets, still bare.

“We’re so dead.” You giggle and your head rests on his shoulder, fiddling with his chest hair.

“Worth it.” He smiles at you for the first time, it’s a rare sight that you know you’ll cherish. “Good thing I don’t like your Dad that much.” Now his smile is cheeky and you laugh again.

“Me neither.” You sigh. “So can I say we will be doing this again?” Looking up at him expectantly, you can’t help the nervous feeling in your stomach.

“Oh, I don’t think I can live without this now.”

-

part two is here!!

“And I only ran three red lights.” You joke and turn around and you’re met with the stoic face of Aaron Hotchner.

“I would hope not.” He deadpans and a bit of you dies inside. The embarrassment creeping up your gut and ripping it downwards. “I don’t know how long I’ll be gone for hopefully I’ll be back tonight.”

“Ok.” You answer simply. “What homework does he have due today?”

“Some SPAG stuff, I’ve got to go. I’ll see you tonight.” With that he rushes out of the door, closing it quietly. You can hear his footsteps echo through the hallway and you finally let the tension out of your shoulders.

It was an awkward time of the morning. Too close to morning to sleep yourself, but too early to wake up Jack for the day. So you perch yourself on the couch and get some work done. It was a happy accident that you ended up babysitting for Aaron Hotchner, Unit chief of the BAU. While you were in college for Psychology of criminals.

Currently, you were working on an essay and getting sucked into the research. Case upon case, some solved by the man himself.

Then, the sun finally came up and shone into the apartment and small steps tapped down the hallway. The small blond mop curled up next to you on the sofa, and you slam your laptop shut.

“Good Morning!” You wrap an arm around around him, “How did you sleep?”

“It was ok. When is my Daddy back?” Popping his thumb out of his mouth, he looks up at you. He was very obviously still very tired, his eyes blinking shut.

“He said tonight.” You answer and you see his mood improve. Seeing him happy was the best part of your job. “You know what? If you can do all of your lessons today at school, I’ll get you a game on the way home.”

He couldn’t contain his smile then, he jumped up and hugged your bottom half, before running off to get ready for the day.

While he got himself dressed you made his favourite breakfast, chocolate cereal in the starwars bowl with the straw for the milk at the end. He races back to the table, most of his clothes on right, minus the t-shirt he had put on backwards.

“Your shirt is on backwards Jack.” You inform him and mumbles out a noise between shovels of cereal. He finally swallows.

“I want the picture on the front.” He explains and he goes back to piling the food into his mouth. He then slurps up all the chocolate milk up through the straw.

“Ahh.” You make a noise in understanding while packing his backpack. Specifically making sure the homework Aaron mentioned was in his folder. “Brush your teeth and then we can get ready to go!” He runs off and does exactly that.

“I’m ready to go!” He excitedly kicks his legs while you tie his shoes, your hands slipping away from the knots and bows a couple times.

In the car, the closer you got to the school, the more nervous Jack gets. He can’t sit still, shuffling back and fourth and you can hear his breathing getting shorter. When you pull up, you lean over the cup holder. “Hey, remember today is going to be a great day. You get to see all your friends and you’re only in for a half day today.”

He nods along apprehensively. “But remember, I’m buying you a game later so that’s something for you to look forward to.” You gently stroke his arm to calm him down. “That sound good?”

“Yeah.” He mumbles quietly, trying not to sulk and you walk him to the classroom door. However, he sees his friends and runs off happily to them, showing off his t-shirt.

“He’s a bit nervous this morning, but I think once he settles in he’ll be fine. But if not I can come and get him.” You explain to his teacher and she nods along.

“I’ll call you if he seems rough.” She confirms, relief washes over you, knowing that he would be mostly fine.

The afternoon comes around and you’re back at the school gates to collect Jack. His teacher’s face looks mostly positive when you come to the door. Jack comes bounding towards you, hugging your legs and looking excited to leave.

“He was good, we had a bit of a wobble during math but he got through it.” She explains and looks down at him with sympathy.

“Thanks, I’ll let Mr Hotchner know.” You smile at her as Jack pulls at your hand, pretty much dragging you out of the classroom. “I think he wants to go, I’ll see you soon.”

“Cmon! I want my game!” He says excitedly and is bouncing up and down in the seat as you get close to the toy store. The boy was vibrating with excitement as the two of you walked in between the aisles. He picked up a game, then decided he wanted another, then another, then another.

But then he let out a gasp and shoved the monopoly he was holding back on the shelf and ran over to a game. The game was twister.

“I want this one!” He nods firmly. “Me and my Mommy played this one!” The two of you head over to the counter to pay. The cashier hands you the receipt and he looks up with those big brown eyes that just made you melt. “Will you play it with me?”

“Of course I will.” You confirm. “But you need to do your homework first.” He was not happy about that but as soon as you got back to the apartment, he raced to the table and began to scribble on his homework sheets.

“Why do I have to do math homework.” Jack groans and rests his head on the table.

“So you can do whatever you want when you grow up.” You reply, running a hand through his hair.

“Even ruler of the world?” He asks.

“Even ruler of the world.” You confirm with a small laugh. “I’ll help you with the last couple questions.” Pulling out the paper from under him, you encourage him to finish the questions.

“Cmon! I want to play!” He runs over to the box on the sofa and almost rips the cardboard apart with excitement. “I want to go first!” He flaps the plastic sheet out on the rug in the living room, the crinkling noise fills the room and there are fold lines on the sheet, making it stick up slightly in the middle.

"Let me just set up the spinner on the tv." You click through the videos, a great one with a randomised spinner. "Ok, right hand on red and left foot on yellow."

You touch a finger to his left hand. “This hand on any of the red dots. And this one.” You touch his left foot. “On the yellow.”

He wobbles slightly but manages to hold his balance. You play the spinner again and land right foot on red and right foot on green.

Both taking turns, Jack lands a right hand on blue and left foot on green. He clambers over your back to reach the blue dot but falls, flattening you to the mat too. He starts that usual high pitched cute giggle his face scrunched up, flailing around on your stomach.

“Ohhh! I won!” You pick him up and throw him onto the sofa, still giggling. “Alright! time for dinner then we can have a rematch!”

As Jack inhales his spaghetti bolognaise, you go into the guest bedroom, scanning your drawers, no sign of Hotch yet. It was getting chilly in DC, when the wind blew it was biting on the skin. You had closed all the windows, and pulled out your winter pyjamas. Red pants and a matching button up, and fluffy socks with blue dots all over them.

The rematch has Jack win as you tumble to your side trying to reach for a red dot. You hear the front door click open and Jack bounces up and sprints towards the door.

“Daddy! Daddy!” He springs up and jumps up into Aaron’s arms. “Come play the game with us.”

“What game?” He comes through the archway to the living room, his briefcase still in hand. “When did you get that?”

“I got it for him today.” You pipe up, looking bashfully at your feet. “Oh and there’s extra dinner wrapped up in the microwave.”

“Thanks.” He says sharply, then bends down to Jack, giving him a kiss on the head. “I’ll eat my dinner and then we can play, do a couple more rounds of with y/n.” Jack nods enthusiastically and runs back over to you. Getting ready to play again.

After another game, this time you losing. Hotch appears around the corner and you stand up and plant yourself on the sofa.

“Do you want me to spin the spinner for you guys?” You ask, plucking it from the box.

“No!” Jack exclaims, “I want you to play with us, Daddy can she?” He grabs his dad’s and pulls him to the rug.

“Uhh.” He pauses. “Yes of course she can.”

Jack goes first, his right hand on green and his right foot on red. He does that easily, his balance improving from your first game. Then you, have a left hand on blue and a right hand on green. Coming face to face with Jack he starts giggling again. Hotch gets a right foot on yellow and a left hand on green. You had underestimated how much of the board Hotch’s large figure would take up. His broad shoulders knocking against Jack’s hip.

The next round had Jack got a left hand on blue, and was able to add a left foot on red. You get a left foot on green and bring your foot next to your hand a right hand on blue, putting it behind you. Hotch moves his right foot to blue, next to your hand and he added a right hand on red. It was comical seeing your boss crouched like a crab, his stomach facing the ceiling.

Again, you start with Jack. He spins a right hand on red, the only spot left right next to his foot, he tries reach but tumbles down onto his side.

“Oh no!” You exclaim, but Jack hops up right away, bounding to the physical spinner. He picks it up and spins it about twenty times.

“Right foot on yellow!” He points towards the line of dots excitedly.

You clamber over his torso, trying to toe to the yellow line but your fluffy socks you had donned earlier don’t grip the cheap plastic sheet and you slip.

The sudden weight causing you to fall on top of Hotch, and his arms buckle under himself. Chest to chest, you clamber up, now straddling him.

“S-sorry!” You choke out, frozen in shock.

“Haha! You both lose which makes me the winner!” Jack exclaims and jumps onto your back excitedly. Pushing you downwards you get out a gasp, your thin pyjama bottoms not providing much protection from you grinding against his crotch.

You bite your lip and try to stand up, your legs weak, you slip again, this time you make an audible squeak and lock eyes with Hotch, a new shade of bright red flushed across your face. You mutter out another shy “Sorry.”

His stern voice called out, “Jack off now.” His deep voice didn’t help the situation that was currently going on in between your thighs.

Jack clambers off and before you can stand up yourself, there are big hands on your hips pulling you off him and standing up. He places you down on the floor and you sweat he doesn’t let go for a good few seconds.

Shaking your head, you plop down on the couch, curling your feet up underneath yourself.

“Jack time for bed!” Hotch calls, picking him up and resting him on his hip and whizzing him up the stairs before he could even complain about sleeping.

It was almost silent downstairs, the awkwardness lighting you up like a christmas tree. You send an emergency text to your friend, updating her that you had just landed square on your boss’ dick. Your boss that you were sure only kept you around as you were the only nanny that Jack hadn’t hated with every fibre of his being.

You get to folding up the dotted sheet, it crinkles loudly. Shoving it roughly into the box, along with the spinner. Wandering to the kitchen, you get our tip toes, trying to put the box on the top of the cabinets, you sigh. Clambering up onto the counter, you reach up.

“What are you doing?” His deep voice echos from behind you.

Your shoulders jump up, and take a step back but that step is air and you tumble back falling from the counter, bracing your body, you get ready to hit the cold, hard tile.

But you don’t hit the floor, you hit a very strong muscular pair of arms that holds you bridal style. You look up at him, you don’t think you’ve ever seen him this close up. He has a few small freckles flicked across his cheeks.

“Ask me next time.”

“Sorry.” You squeak as he places you on the floor again, he could hold you like it was nothing. Turning away, you put the kettle onto the burner. “Coffee?”

“Stop saying sorry.” He huffs, grasping the marble counter. “Please.” He nods towards the kettle.

“Sorry.” You say without thinking. “Ah- Sorry!” Scrunching your face up and dragging your hands down it, hoping to conceal the bright red on your cheeks.

The kettle offers you respite as it starts to screech, telling you it was ready to be poured. You make your own tea, and pour Hotch’s coffee. Black, one sugar.

“Here.” You slide him the mug and scurry back to the living room. “I’ll stay tonight, I don’t like driving in the rain.” You glance to the window. It was beating down, thumping off the the glass.

“That’s fine.” He hums into his plain white mug.

You scurry away to your room, not wanting to co exist with him in any way other than with Jack. You kept your room, well it wasn’t your room. Only moving in some casual clothes and small travel bottles of shampoo and conditioner. The sheets were plain white, the nightstand had your current read and a lamp on. You didn’t want him to profile your living space, it felt intrusive. He knew so much about you, but you, almost nothing about him.

The later it got, the less you could sleep. Tossing and turning in your bed, never getting comfortable enough to fall away into the land of dreams. However, you thought it wouldn’t be the best idea to dream tonight after the twister incident.

A tea would make you sleepy, you conclude, wandering to the kitchen you boil the kettle again.

Quietly, you creep into the living room, and turn on the tv. It’s dark and still hammering down with rain. The room is lit up by the screen, as you scroll through things to watch on the variety of streaming services that Hotch had let you add an account on. You settle for a shitty romcom, enough to keep your eyes on the screen but not enough to make you think for more than a moment.

“What are you still doing up?”

You hadn’t heard him come down the stairs. He leans on the door frame. You jump again, gasping.

“Stop creeping up on me!” You whisper shout, for a second you think you see him smile.

“What are you watching?” He asks and perches down on the couch.

“A bad romcom, I think they had a one night stand and she ran away and now he’s mad and then they met again and now they’re arguing.” You point to the screen.

“Ah.” He nods as you ramble on.

“It’s really bad and cliche, incredibly boring, and by the end it will all have been a mistake and they’ll declare their love.” You roll your eyes. “Oh and now they’re fucking, how typical.”

It hits you like a truck, you’re watching a sex scene with your boss. Unsure where to look, you stare at the screen and try to not even glance his way, but out of the corner of your eye, you see him, he is looking at you.

“Why is that typical? I don’t watch these things.”

“Well you know, they’ve been arguing the whole time and then it’s like the sexual tension or whatever.” You say, eyes darting from him to the screen.

You sip your tea.

“Ah, so would landing on my dick count as sexual tension?”

You spit your tea back into the mug and start to cough manically. Your head whips around to him and see a truly rare sight, him smiling and laughing.

“I’m joking.” He clarifies and pats your back.

“I’m so sorry! Jack and my socks are slippery.” You spit out as fast as you can.

He found himself very amusing, smirking and crossing his arms across his chest. Highlighting his arms again, you swallow loudly.

“How about a rematch?”

You can’t believe what you’re hearing and stare at him in shock. “Are you crazy, that game has almost killed me twice.” Shaking your head, “When did you get jokes.”

“I’m not kidding.” He deadpans, going back to his regular serious face. The one that you couldn’t read anything from, the strong brow and straight mouth.

“Shut up.” You scoff with another eye roll, drinking your tea again.

“Well one of us has to win.” He raises a brow. “And I don’t lose.”

“I didn’t know twister meant this much to you.” You joke, shaking your head. But he had already gotten up and grabbed the box, coming back into the room with it. “Oh god you weren’t kidding.”

Before you knew it, the cheap plastic mat was sprawled across the rug. This time, you pulled your socks off, not wanting a repeat of earlier. “I deserve a raise.”

“Left hand red, right foot blue.” He spins and looks at you expectantly.

Groaning, you move to the mat, and place your hand on the dots. “You’re not going to win, you’re like geriatric.”

“Geriatric!” He scoffs and gets up the automatic spinner on the tv, and puts his left hand on green and left foot on blue. “You know I run a FBI team.”

“Surely your back will give out at some point.” You laugh. This was uncharted territory, he’d never been this relaxed, or fun.

You glance to the tv, Left hand stays on red and your right foot has to go across the board on yellow. Holding your breath you put a leg over him again, this time it stays planted on the mat. You nod in satisfaction and exhale a long held breath.

His turn now and he twists over and ends up as before, reaching out to put his right hand on yellow, he slips, crashing down on his back, and reaching out in reflex taking you with him.

This time it isn’t awkward, you don’t scurry to climb off. You stare at him for a couple beats, chest heaving up and down. “Well, I guess your back did give out.”

“Shut up.” He rolls his eyes and huffs.

“I guess you do lose.” You smirk, happy with yourself, finally having something over him. Ready to gloat for the rest of your days caring for Jack.

“I don’t think I’d call this losing.”

His hands creep up the back of your pyjama shirt, the cold chill of his fingers making you arch and gasp. Now he’s the one smirking. They trail up and down your spine and you almost can’t believe this is real.

You can’t form a sentence, just starts and spurts of stutter come from your mouth, your mouth hangs open.

“Speechless huh? Poor thing.” One of his hands moves to your thigh, also stroking up and down. You almost melt.

You’d had enough of him talking, the smugness. Leaving down you press your lips to his and he groans at the contact. Your own hands travel into his hair and on the edge of his neck. Pulling away, you gasp.

“You’re my boss, I can’t, so sorry.” You ramble and jump off his lap but he’s quick to follow you and grasps your wrist tightly spinning you around.

He leans down to your ear and you feel his breath, it’s hot and fans over your ear. “I profiled you, don’t pretend.”

“I-i don’t know what you mean.” Trying to save face, you look at your feet.

“Flushed face,” He tips your head up by the chin, and you lock eyes, his pupils are huge. “Large pupils, raised pulse, heavy breathing.”

You stare at him and swallow thickly. “But you don’t like me.”

He scoffs at that, like it’s the worst thing he’d ever been accused of. “I don’t like you? You wander around my house in these cute little pyjama sets, look after my son at a single phone call, buy him games, cook him and me dinner, clean my house, tell these stupid jokes. How could I not want to bend you over?” He growls the next part, sending a deep chill down your spine. “And God those little fluttering eyelashes and that shade of red you go whenever I talk, you’re irresistible.”

He lifts you off the ground again, this time you wrap yourself around him, locking lips again as he moves the two of you to your bedroom.

Shoving you against the inside of the door, you groan into the heated kiss. He smiles and you feel it against your lips, you pull away and start to trail light kissed down his neck. His stubble starting to grow in rough against your mouth.

“Bed.” You whisper while making quick work on a hickey on his neck, right under his ridged jawline.

He laughs, a deep baritone sound and carries you to the bed and places you down, pulling his own sleep shirt over his head. He was as bulky as you’d imagined in your late night fantasies, thick biceps that you wanted to sink your teeth into, a thick forest of chest hair that you just wanted to run your nails through.

“Jesus.” You lie on your back, mouth agape. Moving to your own hands to your the buttons on the front of your own shirt, pulling it off.

Hotch didn’t hesitate to jump at you, kissing from your neck down, worshiping every part of your upper body with his mouth. Pulling a nipple into his mouth you arch up to him. “Hotch.”

“Aaron.” He corrects, and you nod as he goes right back to kissing you, making a trail down your stomach and ending at the waistband of red pyjama pants. “Can I take these off?” He asks.

“Yes, Aaron,” You add on the end with a smirk.

“You have no idea how much you’re going to say that tonight.” He bites, yanking them down your legs and pulling them off your ankles.

“Oh yeah.” You tease with a light laugh.

“Oh baby, it’s going to be the only thing you can say.” Before you can even think, his head is buried in between your legs, eating like a man on death row.

Your head flies back into the pillow and you gasp, one hand reaching for his head and the other grasping onto the white bed sheets for dear life. He licks and sucks on your clit, sending you to the moon and back. “Oh Aaron,” You moan and realise you have just proved him right but are having far too much fun to care.

He groans into you and he somehow makes you feel even more euphoric than you were before. Your grasp in his hair tightens as you get closer to the finish line, high gasps and groans echo around the room.

“I’m close!” You squeal, your hips flicking up. “Just like that.” And he does that, not like the other fumbling men you’d been with thinking just like that meant harder or faster. Legs trembling slightly, and teeth gashing into your lip, you cum. Crushing his head in between your thighs. He licks you through your orgasm and pulls up, wiping his mouth.

There was a large tent in his own pyjama pants and he pulls them down, throwing them on the floor with the other discarded clothes. Taking his dick in one hand he crawls up to you placing a light kiss on your lips, you could taste yourself and he lines up, pushing in.

“Aaron!” You cry and he moans, resting his head on your shoulder and you grasp onto his large one.

He waits there for a moment, leaving you with the fullness, and you squeeze down. “You’re so tight.”

Pushing his hips back he starts to thrust, and your eyes immediately roll into the back of your head, still sensitive from your previous orgasm. “H-harder.” You pant, clawing on him.

It was like a switch flicked, he started to pound into you, and you feel your brain turn to mush. Citing his name over and over like a mantra, chest heaving and toes curling. You’d never felt this full, convinced that if you looked down you’d see it bulging out of your pelvis.

“Awh, someone is a little cock drunk.” He says in false sympathy, kissing your forehead and pouting.

“I’m- i’m.” You try to make out, but the head of his cock hits that sweet spot inside of you making you scream out his name again and your head pushes into the pillow. “Close.” You manage to pant out, your weak legs wrap around his back and his own thrusts start to get less rhythmic and more sporadic and harder.

Legs trembling fully this time, you cum, moaning his name and grasping onto his back. He groans, pumping into you pushing you back to the headboard, then releasing deep inside of you.

Pulling out, he rolls over, flopping next to you. “That was.” He starts.

“Fucking amazing.” You stare at the ceiling, coming back to the real world and he turns your head and placing a soft kiss on your lips this time.

“Hang on, i’ll clean you up.”

Disappearing he comes back with a warm cloth, he wipes the cum off of you, holding one of your hands in his. He pulls your own pyjamas back on, doing the buttons back up.

You were sad to see his chest get covered back up and he sits in the bed next to you.

You guys sit in silence with each other, your head rested on his shoulder. “I was wondering.” He starts and your ears perk up. “If you wanted to be Jack’s full time live in nanny. Oh and I’d like to take you on a proper date.”

“Well I think I’d have to consort HR, I don’t want to get this promotion because I slept with the boss.” You joke.

He stares at you seriously.

“But yes, I’d love to be Jack’s full time nanny, and yes, I’ll go on that date with you.” You smile.

“I’ll take Jack to work with me tomorrow, so you can move your stuff in without him getting all in your way.” He states, kissing you again.

“Thank you, I think he misses his auntie Penelope.”

He laughs. “Only because she gives him treats.”

-

Jack wrecked havoc around the office, not leaving a single agent alone, peppering all of them with questions. Dragging Rossi by the hand into his dad’s office.

“Daddy daddy!” He calls. “Uncle Dave said he’d come round and play games with us!”

“Especially all this night time adult twister I’ve been hearing about.” He winks.

“Adult twister?” Derek asks from the door with a bunch of papers in his hand. “Now that sounds like a party.”

Aaron wanted the floor to swallow him whole.

“Uncle Derek!” Jack runs into his arms. “Daddy and y/n played without me! They left the game out and thought I wouldn’t notice.”

“My man!” Derek laughs, before placing those papers on Aaron’s desk and leaving the office with Jack with promises of Penelope’s fun office.

“Adult twister?” Dave laughs, holding at his sides.

Your hands wander down his chest, fingering each button of his dress shirt as you go but only undoing the top few. His chest hair peeking out. They go further, coming to cup his bulge and squeezing. His teeth stab into your neck and he lets out a groan, it vibrates your chest pressed to his.

His hands snake down slightly, fingers catching on your tights, ripping them open and leaving the black fabric in tatters.

You gasp. Hands grasping his shirt. He yanks your skirt up and it clings around your wait. “Careful.” You whisper in his ear, nipping on his earlobe. “Don’t bite off more than you can chew.”

The car only gets hotter, cotton sticking to skin with the humidity from your breath circling the small space.

His slacks are tight over his bulge, he sighs in relief at you popping open the button, each tooth of the zip clicking.

“Hurry up.” He grits his teeth, thumping against the headrest, one hand pushing your underwear to the side.

You grab his cock, hovering right above him. The tip slides against your wetness and you feel your jaw clench, losing patience.

“Please.” He whimpers. His fingers dig into the flesh of your hips, anchoring you. Black strands of hair stuck to his forehead as a bead of sweat trickles down to his strong brow.

You give in to his delicious sigh, lowering yourself down on him slowly. His breath stutters and his grip on his hips with it. Letting out a slight laugh you slam back down on him.

“Mmm.” You hum as you set a steady rhythm bouncing on him, each come down making a wet, raunchy slap.

He cries out your name, it makes you clench around him. The head of his cock brushes over that spot inside you that makes your head spin, now it’s your turn to whimper and you curl over slightly, damp forehead coming to lean on his shoulder. Pace unrelenting.

“Jesus.” You pant, pulling yourself back up and steadying yourself with a hand on the car window. It’s cold with condensation, leaving your hand chilled and you creeping closer and closer to the edge with every bounce.

His desperate fingers creep under your shirt, fanning over your back. Tips of his thick fingers aiding you with each slam downwards, the back of the car filling with sweat, moans and overwhelming pleasure.

Then you feel it, another cool thing. It’s not the condensation dripping down your wrist. It’s his wedding band. The gold pressing into your spine, the metal a cold, shameful juxtaposition from the hot sweat box you’re both hiding in.

Your mind ticks with guilt for a second, a fleeting thought of his wife at home. It falls from your consciousness the moment his tongue licks up your neck, from the crook of your shoulder to your jawline.

“Fuck!” You cry, gripping into his shoulders as he starts to thrust up into you, matching your own pace.

It’s brutal, his feet planted firmly on the floor, toes surely curling in his shoes. Arms enveloping your waist, keeping you in place as he fucks you hard, your eyes rolling back.

He’s grunting into your ear, strong nose nudging into the side of your face. “God you’re addicting.”

Your thighs start to shake, eyebrows scrunched and lip clasped between your teeth so hard you think you draw blood.

“Shit shit shit.” You gasp as you cum on his cock, muscles tense and soaking with sweat. The secret makes it more thrilling, pulsing around him as he grunts.

“Shit.” He echos your words, but pulls you off of his cock, and you grasp onto the front seats. He spills on to the side of his slacks. It drips down to the leather seats.

The both of you stare at eachother for a beat, it’s thick. Like you can swallow it and it would choke you a bit on the way down. You reach over and roll down a window, the cold air rushing in and sticking to your skin.

“We are so in trouble.” You sigh, climbing back into the front seat, nodding at him to hurry up.

He does, zipping himself up and gracefully going out of the backseat and in through the doors.

“We are.” He coughs, turning the key in the ignition and the car roars to life. It’s quiet again, just the two of you and the hum of the engine. A bird tweets outside and you smooth down your hair, trying to look like you hadn’t just been fucked.

He starts to drive then, speeding through the DC suburbs in the night, it was quiet. You stare out of the window, elbow resting on the window ledge. Your tattered tights get put into the glovebox and your heels slip back on with. squeak. Pulling up outside of your house, the car slows.

“I want you.” He says. It’s simple, a statement as he looks over at you.

“You have a wife.” You respond, the moonlight making the diamond on your ring twinkle in the night.

“And you have a finance. So I guess we’re both bad people.” He sighs. “Consider it?”

You snort. “You couldn’t handle me at all boy, you don’t even know the half of it.”

The door clicks closed behind you and you make it halfway up the pathway to your door before you run back to the window, still wound down.

“Next Tuesday?”

He nods. You retreat with a smile on your face and locking your front door. His car is silent as it drives off.

a/n: thanks for the request anon!! i enjoyed writing this!! please send some more <3 PLEASE REBLOG!!!

taglist:  taglist: @beesin03 @Michasia24 @jakiki94 @A4Brianna @violettablackwood @hotchsgirll

You flush at that, heat climbing to your cheeks and mind racing of everything you had in your wardrobe. Five hours, five hours too little to get ready.

You'd turned your entire wardrobe inside out, trying on the insane amount of LBD's you had. How short was too short? Mid thigh, you weren't a nun.

You'd decided on the one that settled right under your ass, and would definitely ride up throughout the night.

Perched on the edge of your couch, nibbing on the ends of your nails. Eyes darting to every notification that lit up the screen of your phone. Finally, it came.

I'm outside.

Trying to not be too eager, you take your sweet time grabbing your bag and putting your ID, card and way too many lip glosses in to the pocket. He was waiting where he always did, right near the door to the parking lot, stood at the passenger door, one of his feet crossed over the other.

"Good Evening." He pops open the car door, motioning for you to get in.

"Hello," You lean into his side, before climbing in and him clicking the door shut behind you, "So what's the occasion?" You ask as he twists the key and the engine roars to life.

"You actually being able to use your real ID." You don't miss the smirk on his face and snicker slightly.

"Ah, a belated birthday outing." Your head hits the rest behind you, watching the city whiz by. "Feeling sorry for missing my actual birthday?"

"I was called away on a case." He states, hands clasping the wheel. "But yes I am sorry, I missed your birthday."

Your hand strokes up his thigh and he clears his throat, eyes darting down to to it. "I don't care that you missed my birthday, you're a very important man. Now spill, where are you taking me."

Your hand was unabashedly stroking his bulge, fingers trailing the seam of his trousers. A deep groan erupting from his chest, shoulders tensing making the veins on his forearms appear.

"You'll find out when we get there." He rolls his eyes at your impatience, head turning to peer out of the window and you swiftly remove your hand from him, leaving it to rest on your own thigh. "You're cruel."

"And you won't tell me where we're going." Your voice ticks up, teasing him and keeping your hands far far away from his dick.

"Stop your whining, we're here."

Unbuckling and stepping out, heels clicking on to the concrete. Arm wrapping around yours and leading you not too far down the street to a bar. The sign on front was lit up neon blue, casting a sheen over the two of you.

"Oh so you're getting me drunk?" You giggle. "I hope you're not planning to take advantage of me."

"I would never do such a thing." His arm wraps around your neck pulling you into the crook of his arm. The both of you flash your ID's to the bouncer, him not even glancing at Aarons but taking a second longer to glance at yours.

"Have a good evening guys." The bouncer is flippant as he waves you in, the heat from the bar hitting immediately same with the wave of loud music enveloping you.

You scan the room, it's very busy. It's packed like sardines, Aaron makes a path up to the bar. "What do you want to drink?" He leans down, hands winding down to your hips, the ghost of his breath fanning over your ear.

"Just a beer." You lean back into him, back pressed into his front, you could feel the hardness of his muscles under his shirt.

He motions to the bartender and two cold, crisp pints slide across the bar and into your hand. The two of you make your way to a corner, its less rammed there, you can hear him speak. Your back hits the wall and its cool on your exposed skin, sticking to the sweat and sending a shiver down your back.

"When I said short." A finger drags up from the crook of your knee to the swell of your ass, meeting the fabric that clung there tightly. "I didn't mean show the whole world your ass." He pinches the fabric in between his fingers and pulling it down slightly.

"I was just following your instructions, maybe you should have been more clear." A mischievous smile creeps up your cheeks. "God knows how you run a team of FBI agents." You take a long, cool sip from your drink.

"Careful."

He pinches your ass this time, it stings and you yelp quietly. The smile never leaving your face.

You finish the rest of your drink, handing him the empty glass. "I'm going for a cigarette. You're welcome to come." You push off of the wall, and snake through the small gap that he'd left between the two of you. You don't miss his disapproving stare.

"I'll get us another drink." He sighs, dropping your hand as you make your way to the side entrance, out to the benches where the smoking area resided.

You'd just lit the thing and put it in your mouth, barely even taking a drag before you heard it, someone calling your name and walking towards you, shrouded in the darkness,

"John." You smile up at him, blowing the smoke away from him. "How are you?"

"I'm doing good, what are you doing in a place like this?" He looks around, sitting down next to you.

"Ah. I'm with someone." You bite your lip.

"So you finally settled down?" He laughs. "Never thought you would, you were very wild."

"Eh, not exactly."

Always with the perfect timing, Aaron steps out with another two pints in hand, almost slipping put of his grip at the sight of you with someone else.

"Aaron!" You call, beckoning him over with a wave of your hand.

You take the drink and motion for him to sit down next to you. He doesn't.

"Who's this?" He asks, glaring daggers at John, eyes darting between the pair of you.

"John. He is- was my friend." You give him a thin lipped smile, sipping from your drink just wanting the ground to swallow you up whole.

"Wild one isn't she?" John snorts, "Can't tie her down, don't let her out of your sight or she might jump ship."

“Shut up.” You roll your eyes so hard you’re sure you see the front of your brain and your shoulder jabs into his ribs.

“What?” He scoffs, “You were having great fun to me, and then someone else caught your fancy.”

You start to chug your pint, the cool liquid sitting heavy in your stomach. Aaron just simply raises an eyebrow, the muscles in his jaw jumping.

“What was his name? Rob, that was it. The accountant.” He wags his finger and your cheeks burn hot. With that his friends call him over and he disappears back into the darkness.

You’d finished your drink quickly, the glass clinking on the bench. He stares at you in silence and you take a long drag of your cigarette, blowing it away from him this time.

“How many… friends, do you have?” His hand his on his hip, his pinky and ring finger dipping into his pocket.

“It sounds worse than it is.” You bite your lip. “I left because he had whiskey dick.”

He doesn’t find that funny, still staring down at you.

“Put that out, we’re leaving.” His statement is one and done, pouring the rest of his pint down the drain, barely sipped the foam from being poured still sitting on the top.

“What! We just got here.” You pout, grasping your knees, the ash falling to the toe of your boot.

“It seems like everyone here knows you.”

“It’s one guy!” You exclaim, throwing your hands up dramatically. Then someone else calls your name from behind again, and you hide behind your hair.

“We are leaving.” He repeats.

You put out your cigarette, stamping it out under your boot and leaving your half drank pint on the bench.

His hand grasps yours, leading you away from the bar and down the street. Heels clicking on the pavement, echoing around the empty streets.

His silence makes you nervous, you squeeze his hand, feeling his knuckles on your fingers. The glint of his car in the night finally appears, he still opens the door. Your brain tries to reason with you, that means he can’t be THAT mad.

“Buckle yourself in.”

The tone, that cool, unbending tone told you that you were dealing with Unit chief Hotchner, not Aaron.

You do as your told and the seatbelt clicks into place. The ride back is so quiet that you can hear the tires rolling across the gravel. You don’t even think about reaching across the console and stroking his cock, well it does cross your mind but you shake it out. Refusing to sit still, squirming in the leather seat and flipping down the small mirror. Reapplying your lipgloss.

The buildings that pass aren’t familiar, this wasn’t the way to your apartment. It was more suburb than city, the tall apartment buildings and the hustle and bustle turned into a quieter, sleepier town houses.

You were going to his place.

He pulled into the driveway, the car screeching to a halt. He throws out the door, not opening yours this time. Marching straight to the front door and you trail behind him, following hot on his heels.

You get in, he kicks off his shoes and so do you.

"Look." You sigh.

You barely get a word out, the rest of the upcoming sentence knocked out of you. Your back hits the door. He cages you in, thick forearms on either side of your head and his lips suck on your neck. Teeth scraping over the sensitive skin making your toes curl into the hardwood floor.

“Aaron!” You cry, your hands grasping the front of his shirt desperately. The fabric wrinkles in between your fingers, ruining the ironing he’d definitely ran over it earlier.

“Shh.” He whispers, his hands fingering the straps of your dress and letting them fall to the sides. “I don’t want to hear it.” The bottom of it gets hiked up, making your ass shake as it clings above your hips.

“But-.” You try, he silences you with a searing kiss, rolling down the top part of the dress and exposing your tits to the cool air of his house.

His foot nudges between yours, spreading your legs and pinning you to the door with the sheer size of him.

Hand shaking down, between the valley of your tits, lightly stroking your stomach and coming to rest on your pelvis. His fingers peek inside the waistband of your thong, sliding in and hovering right above where you so desperately wanted him to stroke.

“Mmph.” You groan into his mouth. Your hips buck upwards to his hand. He smiles into your kiss, teeth reaching out and nipping at your bottom lip.

Then he does it, hands curve all the way down. Two thick fingers press into you, filling you. Simultaneously, his thumb hits your clit with soft, smooth circles as his fingers pump mercilessly.

He pulls away from your mouth with a wet pop, just in time to hear the loud, borderline pornographic moan that pulls from your throat. It echoes in the small space of the entry way as your head leans against his front door. “Aaron fuck!”

The laugh that hits your ears is teasing, your eyes half lidded as you gaze up at him. His fingers make an erotic squelch come from you every time he fucks them deep inside you. You’re pretty sure the only way you’re still upright on your feet is his fingers keeping you in place.

His thumb speeds presses harder into your clit. “Oh my God!” You almost scream, his thumbs precision on your clit and the pads of his fingers has you running to the edge at lightening speed.

“Are you close baby?” He whispers into your ear.

That’s all you needed, his voice vibrating in your ear and sending an ice cold chill down your spine. The muscles in your thighs tremble, toes curled and back so slick with sweat that you’re suctioned to the door. Your pussy clenches around him, squeezing his fingers tightly as he keeps fucking you through your orgasm.

You’re still panting when he’s leading you somewhere else, you don’t catch much of the living room before you’re pushed over the back of the couch. It was blue, and soft, the fabric under your hands.

“You’re so wet.” The head of his cock hits your clit as he shuffles forward and the clink of his belt buckle on the hardwood floor has your stomach turn in anticipation.

It hits the outside of your entrance, barely pushing in. You try to push back, he grabs your hips and pushes you flush with the couch. He clicks his tongue and his fingers tap against your skin.

“Should I fuck you? Hmm?” He presses forward slightly, then stops, then presses forward again just barely sinking into you.

You feel your hair slip to the side as you look back over your shoulder. “Please!” You whine, hips stuttering and pulling your lip into your mouth.

“I’m not sure.”

He slips his cock down and slaps it against your clit, your arms give out slightly. They buckle at the elbows.

“Please fuck me! Aaron.” Your dress is still clinging to your midriff, wet with sweat.

He doesn’t give you an answer with words, he just sinks right in and bottoming out. This time your elbows do buckle and your cheek comes to rest on the blue fabric. Feet tipping off the floor.

Again, he has no mercy. Using you roughly, each pump lurching you - and probably the couch, forward.

Your moans are muffled by the cushion pressing into your cheek, the drool pooling at the corner of your mouth leaving a dark spot on the fabric.

His strong arm wraps around your middle, pulling you back up to your hands and caging you in again. He’s heavy on top of you as he fucks you, his back, still in his shirt, pressing into you.

Puffs of air escape from your lips at each thrust, still so sensitive from your last orgasm, walls fluttering around him.

“Who do you belong to?” His voice is deep and guttural almost a growl.

“You.” Your voice comes out in a whisper, and another loud, high pitched moan comes when his middle finger reaches for your clit again.

“That’s right. This pussy is mine.”

“Fuck! Aaron, Aaron, Aaron!” You say his name like a prayer as you cum again, squeezing his thick cock in a vice like grip.

He whispers your name as his own hips stutter and with one deep thrust he releases inside of you. The two of you stay like that for a moment, his hands holding you to his chest and panting like you’d just ran a marathon.

Pulling you up, cock still inside, he presses a soft kiss to the crown of your head.

“I couldn’t stand him talking to you like that.” Aaron was back, his fingers now brushing your hair from your shoulder. “Sorry if I was too rough.”

“No no, I loved it.” You smile, “I think that was the hardest I came, like ever.”

“I’ll run you a bath.” His fingers stroke your spine and he finally pulls out, his cum running down your legs.

“Be quick, wouldn’t want to stain your newly waxed hardwood floor.” You give him a knowing look.

“Oh shut up.” He rolls his eyes and disappears up the stairs. A couple of seconds later you hear the water run.

--

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a/n: Thanks for this request i had such a good time writing it!!!! also sorry i disappeared. I was supposed to post this but i got spiked and then had like a 4 day hangover.. whoops.

"This one." He laughs, pulling open the door for you and you step in. He takes to the host stand, "Booking for Hotchner at 8, sorry to be a hassle, but could we move to the outside seating?"

"Of course, sir." The host clicks on the computer in front of her, "I'll take you there now." She leads you to the outside seating, handing you the drinks menus. "In a short while, someone will be over."

You glance around, you're the only two on the outside seating. There was a very light breeze, chilling the sweat on your skin and making s shiver travel down your back.

"So why did you ask for us to move outside?" You ask, taking it in.

"Its quieter out here, inside is pretty rammed." He smiles. "I wanted to be able to hear you talk."

You glow red, his kindness catching you off guard. Your mouth curls into a smile, shaking your head. "Stop it." You giggle slightly, the toe of your shoes nudging his. "I know what you're trying to do."

"And what am I trying to do?"

"You think that if you compliment me, take me to a fancy bar I'll just climb into bed with you later." You bite your lip, blatantly staring at him. The dim lights casting a gentle glow on his face, the muscles in his forearms flexed as he reads over the menu.

"I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about." His eyes scanning across the menu. "I think I'll go for the espresso martini."

You take a look yourself, out of the corner of your eye there is a black apron and a white shirt. "Hi guys, how can we get you started today?"

"Can I have an espresso martini?" The waiter nods, scribbling it down.

He turns to you. "Could I get a Gibson?"

He pauses a second, looking at his pad and then you. "Could I just see some ID?"

"Of course!" You dig around your purse and hand it over, he stares at it then you then the card again. He hands it back, now writing your order down.

"You know, It's just because sometimes we get dads trying to get their kids a drink." With a nod, he departs. The thick glass doors shutting behind him.

You can't help it, but you burst into laughter. Spurred on by the ever unimpressed look on your boyfriend's face. Arms crossed across his chest highlighting his pecks, the crease of his shirt settling between them, surrounded by his thick forearms that were covered in dark hair. You're almost doubled over, hand clutching at your stomach with tears spurting at the corners of your eyes.

"I don't understand what's funny." He deadpans, his eyebrows scrunched into that flat line you loved.

"Nothing's funny." You're shaking your head, still snickering. "Dad."

Another wave of laughter comes over you at the way his face contorts in absolute, unmistakable disgust. This time a tear does actually run down your cheek, quickly wiping it up so your makeup doesn't run.

The door swings open, the waiter on his way over with three drinks on a tray. He hands Aaron his espresso martini, then you you're Gibson. "This one's on the house."

It's a pornstar martini, he places it in front of you, the liquid sloshing slightly from his shaky placement. The bottom of the glass scraping across the table with an awful squeak.

"Thank you." You smile up at him. He nods again, scurrying away back to the bar.

Aaron scoffs quietly, bringing his drink up to his lip, and rolling his eyes at the back of the server. Glaring at his back. "Come sit on this side with me." His hand pats the chair next to him. It's not a request.

You comply, standing up and moving your drinks across and your bag. "Is someone jealous?" You smile, still moving anyway, the teasing tone of your voice ticking up.

"I just don't like his audacity." He responds, his arm wrapping around your shoulders and pulling you into him. Your side pressed into his, the heat radiating into you.

The two of you sip on your drinks, you comment on his choice, ever the caffeine addict.

"You know at your age, you shouldn't drink so much caffeine." You poke at his ribs, finger running up them like a xylophone. "Your heart might give out." You snort, now feeling the buzz from your drink.

"Says the woman drinking a cocktail with a pickled onion in it." His nose brushes up your neck, a trail of soft kisses coming after. It makes you giggle like a fool, scratching the back of his head with your fingers.

Plucking the pick out of the glass, you scrape the pickled onion into your mouth and chewing on it dramatically. "And you're the one who has to kiss this mouth."

"Gladly."

His fingers grip your chin, turning your face to him and planting a firm kiss on you, his teeth scraping your bottom lip slightly.

"That." He pauses, "Is a terrible combination." His nose scrunches.

"Good thing we have a pornstar martini to wash it all down." You're about an inch apart, whispering into each others mouths . Now endlessly gals that you were alone outside and that the chill breeze was cooling the flush that had erupted all over your body.

"Or, we could go home. Brush our teeth and have kisses be mint flavour." His hand is firmly panted on your thigh, thumb rubbing the hem of your dress slightly.

Standing up, he holds out his arm for you. Nodding towards the car.

"Are you sure you're ok to drive?" You question, standing up anyway flinging your bag over your shoulder.

"I've had one." He rolls his eyes, linking your arm in his leading you to the car, popping the door open for you and walking to the other side of the car.

"I think you just don't want me to drink the free drink." You giggle. "Someone's jealous." Teasing, poking at his ribs again.

"Jealous? Me?" He questions, "Of that kid?" Shaking his head he finishes the rest of his drink, folding his jacket over his forearm. "He'd never be able to handle you anyway."

"Glad you've got your head screwed on, old man." You lean over the roof, voice lowering to a whisper. "Because, I'm wearing nothing under this dress." You bite your lip.

His voice is deep and rumbly, eyes darkening. "Get in the car."

You do. Not without a loud, hearty laugh.

--

a/n: Hey thank you sm for the request!!!! Request again and ill write the smutty part two!! i hope you liked it.

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