#luvver'syaps

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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