#aaron Hotchner x afab!reader

[luveline]

Baby blurb with Aaron where he is so protective of reader and their unborn child while out on a case and the team tease him about it

thank you for your request! ♥︎ hotch x pregnant!reader

Aaron doesn't patronise you by insisting you don't work out in the field but you know there's a part of him that must want to deep down.

He constantly has a hand extended toward you. Toward the small of your back when you're climbing out of cars and elevators. Toward your hand when you're close by, his pinky an inch from yours. Toward your stomach, your small bump. He lets himself touch your baby bump on very rare occasions. It's the one thing he can't hold back. 

"You're sure you're feeling alright?" he asks you, face to face in the middle of a police precinct's conference room. 

You're careful not to breathe on him, though hopefully your breath smells of toothpaste and antacid rather than throw up. "Aaron, I'm used to it now, you know that." 

"It's not about getting used to it. If I could take this from you–" 

You pat his pale cheek. "It's just sick. You're stressed and it's making you worry too much, that's all it is. I'm perfectly fine." You lower your voice to a whisper, "We're perfectly fine." 

His knuckles brush your bump. 

"You can ask me how I'm doing if you want, Hotch. I'll answer more honestly," Morgan says. 

You and Aaron ease away from one another. His professionalism falls into place. You love Morgan almost as much as you love Aaron, so you beam at him when you probably shouldn't. 

"How are you, Derek?" you ask. 

"Whole lot better than you, mama bear. Little brat's kicking your ass today, huh?" He leans back in his chair, tossing the pen in his hands into the air and catching it lacksidisaically.

"The baby," Aaron says sternly, clearly not appreciating Morgan's choice of descriptor, "is behaving unfortunately." 

"The baby likely isn't doing anything," Spencer corrects, wearing a smile unlike himself. "Research suggests that morning sickness is caused by a hormone made in the placenta created as a byproduct during pregnancy. So, if anything–" 

"It's Aaron's fault," Rossi concludes. 

You're surprised Aaron doesn't pinch the bridge of his nose.

"It's alright, boss, I forgive you–" you begin.

"We've talked about you calling me 'boss'–" 

"–for getting me pregnant. After all, I asked–" 

"Did you?" Prentiss asks, surprised.

"–and I have a funny feeling I'll be happy with the end product." You rub your stomach affectionately. It's a show, a drama to make your friends laugh in an otherwise dismal situation, but you feel something stirring beneath your skin. You bring your second hand to your bump and close your eyes. "Oh, she's moving." 

"No way!" JJ says happily. 

There's a gap where nobody talks. You try to hide your amazed smile, heat blooming behind your eyes. You've felt her move before, mostly at night when you're lying in bed. Every time is a flashing reminder of what's really happening. 

"Hotch," Morgan says. "We all know you want to." 

"We have things we need to be doing." 

"They can wait another ten seconds," you say softly. "Please." 

It doesn't take anymore convincing. Aaron crosses the room and you take his hand, sliding it against the swollen hill of your stomach until you find the place you'd felt your baby moving. You aren't sure if Aaron will be able to feel it —it isn't a kick, just a stirring of limbs— but she moves, and his lips part with a sigh.

The team pretend they aren't watching, besides Rossi, who laughs. "The miracle of life," he says. 

You snort at his cheesiness if you weren't busy trying to take a snap-shot of Aaron's face where awe, reverence, and love all work to turn his lips up in an earnest grin. 

[spacecowboyhotch]

Kinktober 13: Body Worship

pairing: aaron hotchner x afab! reader

contents: 18+/NSFW/MINORS DNI, teasing

wc: 404

an: a continuation of this series where reader and hotch start their first time, for the sweetestttttt @greg-montgomery

kinktober masterlist | seeing him masterlist

Aaron is taking his time. Maybe one day you’ll want him to— you’ll want to relish the feel of his warmth around you, his mouth on you, his touch so gentle. But you’ve done enough waiting, tortured yourself enough with how long it took you to let yourself love him unapologetically and vice versa.

“Aaron,” You grumble, your hand falling to thread through his dark hair.

His mouth stills where it’s pressed against your thigh, and his eyes widen a little with concern, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong.”

He raises a brow at you, waiting patiently for you to talk to him.

“You're just driving me insane. I want you, Aaron. I have for what feels like a million years and you're teasing me.”

“Is that what you think I’m doing?”

“Yes.”

“I love you,” He says simply, as that explains everything.

Now you're the one to quirk an eyebrow at him. Even as you do, you say, “I love you too.”

“Then let me savor this. Let me savor you,” He murmurs, his eyes soft, brimming with affection.

You’re stubborn— that’s just a fact, a way of life. You know and Aaron’s come to accept it. Come to love it as much as he loves any other part of you. It’s why when you look at him skeptically for several moments, his gaze doesn’t falter and he doesn’t give you an alternative.

“Alright, fine. I’ll be patient.”

He grins against your thigh before he starts again, his hands brushing every inch of your skin, followed by his mouth. For all intents and purposes, he’s worshiping you. His hands are so insistent, full of reverence. His cups your breasts, teasing your nipples into your writhe underneath his touch. His mouth is even better, bringing you to peak after peak as his hands rub gently at your thighs, as he murmurs the softest of praises to you. It all makes you dizzy, like you’re floating in the ocean, fully submerged in pleasure. In Aaron.

After you’ve both lost count of how many times he’s made you cum, he gathers you in his arms, gazing down at you, “Are you okay? Need an intermission?”

“Just…give me a minute,” You huff, pressing your face to his chest, trying to ground yourself. “You’re gonna kill me when we have sex aren’t you?

He grins, treating you to a soft kiss, “I’ll go get you some water and a snack.”

hotch taglist: @honeybrowne, @hotchs-bitch, @pastanoodles11, @stevengrcnt, @greg-montgomery, @lesbianhotch, @rousethemouse, @flightlessangelwings, @hotchsdharma, @maisondenachtai, @silversprings-mp3, @callm3c0nfus3d, @ilikefictionalmen

[cosmicluka]

i know st patrick’s day is long gone but could you do a part 2 for pinch? like after the case where reader shows spencer her bra (maybe more)

Pinch (pt 2)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader (Criminal Minds)

Summary: You finally have the chance to prove your Saint Patrick's Day protection weeks after the holiday. Spencer was only slightly more ready than the first time you brought it up (spoiler alert: that's still not a lot)

Genre: Fluff, friends to lovers

Warnings: Suggestive, AFAB reader, partial nudity, one? bad word, not proofread

Word Count: 1K

A/N: This is so late... Uni has been horrid lately. I wasn't sure how spicy you wanted, but if you want NSFW, I can do a part 3 to this!

Part 1

It was supposed to be a simple case. The bodies of two women had been found in an open lot almost an hour from headquarters and two more women had been reported missing a few days prior to the discovery of the corpses. In theory, it should not have been difficult. Talk to a few people, gather the evidence, arrest whatever twisted individual responsible, rush through some paperwork, and make it home in time to come up with a new Saint Patrick’s Day tradition with your favorite genius. Preferably one that involved a lot more time and a lot less clothes.

But your green bra didn’t carry enough luck in it. Within the hour, there had been reports of a double homicide just a few miles past the border of North Carolina that matched the M.O. your suspect perfectly, meaning the team had to split up in hopes of finding the one crucial piece of missing information that would bring this case to a close. That left you with Prentiss, Hotch, and Morgan on the jet while Reid stayed behind with J.J, Garcia, and Rossi to work the case where it had all originated. 

You had tried to convince Hotch to let you stay behind, but he was adamant that you go with them, which put you in the one situation that you were trying to avoid like your life depended on it. 

“So,” Prentiss slid into the seat next to you with a grin that promised no good. “You and the genius, huh?” 

“Yeah, I, for one, would love to hear more about that new development that you showed earlier today.” Morgan was quick to butt in from his spot on the couch. You couldn’t trust your tongue not to trip over any words that could come out of your mouth, so you just looked to Hotch to silently plea for his help. “It’s not against any guidelines to fraternize with coworkers, but you should still be careful. Don’t let it affect your work.” That was all he said as he looked away from you to thumb through the file he held. A groan escaped you as Morgan and Prentiss turned their attention back on you, impatiently waiting to respond to their interrogation. If you were the one who found the unsub after you landed, they probably would be going to jail with a few extra bruises than necessary as reprimands for putting you in this situation. 

-

It had been a little over two weeks since that particular suspect was apprehended and the case was closed. Since then, you and Spencer’s schedules just hadn’t cleared up. Case after case hit almost all at the same time, leaving you both exhausted even on the days that you didn’t have to take the jet anywhere. But that didn’t mean that you were waiting patiently and neither was he. It was obvious in the ways that you would let your hand linger on his arm when you walked past him or running your fingers through his hair under the guise of getting it out of his face when you were sure no one was around. It was obvious in the way that he would hover closer than necessary when he leaned over your shoulder to peak at the files you had in front of you or the way that he would sit next to you whenever he could and bump your knee with his. 

The others had noticed as well. It was no secret to you or Spencer when they had started placing bets as to when you two would finally get together. He had found it humorous while you were halfway to convincing yourself to place a bet of your own. Best outcome: you get extra money and a fantastic night with a fantastic man. Worst outcome: you lose some money, but you still get Spencer in your bed. Honestly, what could go wrong? 

You were ready to have Morgan deal you in that afternoon, but the case of the day had been resolved and you were free to leave and rest up before the next case inevitably slid across your desk to whisk you away to some other gory reality. By the time that you had packed all of your things up for the day, Morgan was nowhere to be found. A certain doctor was, however. He stood beside his desk as his slender hands shoved papers into the brown satchel that he always carried as his unruly hair flopped over in his face, making him look disheveled and much more casual than when he had come in the office that morning.

You started walking towards him with your own bag clutched in your hands to try and quell the anxiety that was slowly starting to build as you took in his lean frame. You knew your crush on the man was known to everyone, even him at this point, but that did nothing to stop the nervous onset of nausea that took over your stomach every time you stepped out of your comfort zone. “So, genius,” You had started when you got close enough to him. Spencer paused in his process of packing his things to stare at you with those big, brown eyes that drove you incredibly insane. “You have any plans for the day since we were set free early?” 

He shook his head in response. “No, not unless you count flipping through another book of Leo Tolstoy’s again.” He paused as he shoved the last paper in his bag before closing it and putting all of his attention on you. “Did you, I mean… would you…” He stumbled over his words, suddenly not having the courage to meet your eye. His question had come out in a whisper and if you hadn’t been straining not to miss a single word, you wouldn’t have heard it. 

“Want to get dinner?” You should have felt bad, at least a tiny bit. The way his face grew bright red all the way to the tip of his ears and down his neck should have persuaded you against teasing him. But you wanted to see if you could bring out the same Spencer Reid that had so boldly asked to see you naked in front of your coworkers. “Dinner sounds lovely. After that, we can go back to my place. After all, I did promise to show you my Saint Patrick’s Day protection that I just so happen to be wearing again.” You felt your own face heat up a bit with the way his eyes flitted from your face to your chest as if he could confirm the bra you were wearing through the shirt you had on as his own blush seemed to deepen. 

“Yeah-” His voice broke in a high pitched squeak before he cleared his throat, hand coming up to his collar to pull the offensive fabric away from his neck as he looked away. “I mean, yes. If you’re comfortable with it, that is. I would be fine if you just wanted to get dinner, but if you really want to-” 

“Hey, pretty boy?” His wide eyes snapped to you as the words died on his lips, mouth opening and closing much like a fish. You had to stifle a giggle at how the pet name affected the man in front of you. “Just stop talking. How about we skip dinner and go straight to dessert?” Your gaze landed on the bobbing of Spencer’s adam’s apple as he swallowed nervously at your teasing and you shifted your feet as you became increasingly aware of the heat settling in your stomach.

You reached out for his hand but stopped just before you could make contact. “I know, I know. Shaking hands transfers more pathogens than kissing, but-” He interrupted your own ramble with a trembling voice. “It’ll be pointless to worry about that after tonight.” You nearly choked with the way your heart leapt up to your throat as Spencer met you halfway and grabbed your outstretched hand. His skin was warm and a bit clammy from the nerves, but electricity still shot up from where you were touching through your entire body. As he started walking to the exit, pulling you along with him, you couldn’t help but wonder if you’d be able to survive the rest of the night if this was the effect his simple touch had on you. 

-

Despite your teasing, you still ended up at a local diner for quick meal. It had felt like you were a teenager again. You shared nervous glances from over your plates and stole subtle touches as if it was against the rules with giggles each time you made contact. The nerves had visibly melted away from Spencer’s frame as he relaxed in your company again. But not even you could bat away the anxiety coming in waves when Spencer stood in the middle of your living room with his eyes combing every inch of the room except for the space you occupied. You couldn’t believe that you actually had him in your home. After months of pining after the genius and the last few weeks of torture and anticipation, he was so close to your reach. 

“Your walls are blue. Did you know that people with blue rooms are known to be more productive?” 

“I did not know that.” 

“Yeah, color theory actually stems back from the ancient Greeks, Egyptians, and Chinese. All of the colors have an affect that can be used for healing or-”

“What did they say about this color?” You took a deep breath to reassure yourself as you pulled your shirt over your head, leaving yourself bare in front of Spencer who finally turned around to face you right as the clothing hit the ground. You heard his breath hitch in his throat as he struggled and failed to keep his eyes off of your breasts that sat supported in your emerald green bra. You felt lightheaded under his gaze as he wet his lips with his tongue and took a step closer to you. “Well?” You found the courage to quip as you hid your shaking hands behind your back. “I- I don’t…Uh, I don’t know,” Spencer had started with his voice strained, eyes flitting from yours back down to your exposed chest. 

“I honestly don’t give a damn about them right now.” His whispered words were enough to have you abandoning any shame or embarrassment and you grabbed his face between his hands and pulled him closer. You gave him a moment to pull away if he wanted, but he just leaned closer to finally connect you with a passionate kiss. The way one of his hands found its way to your waist while the other tangled itself in your hair surprised you and as he began to guide you back to the open door of your bedroom without ever separating from you, you wondered what other surprises Spencer would show you tonight.

[mggsv]

Interrogated

suspect afab!reader x aaron hotch hotchner

the way this popped into my head should be especially illegal in so many ways. eat up hotchies ily <3

summary: As a suspect taken in for questioning it’ll be reasonable for the interrogator to be inside the room with you..instead hes outside watching you while you touch yourself

warnings: masturbation, unplanned public sex act, slight edging, slight degradation (from reader to self)

not proof read !

When he first walked into the room wearing that suit you couldn’t tear your eyes off of him The way he stared at you so intensely..like he could break you in one touch. It struck a match inside of you- that fire you couldn’t put out. Agent Hotchner, Hotch they called him. It almost wanted you to be guilty-you weren’t-but man if you were would he…

You weren’t sure. “I’m innocent.” you spoke clearly to him. you knew the rest of his team were watching. Your thighs rubbed together as you tried to keep your composure, but man was it hard…Hotch took notice of this of course, it was his job after all. “witnesses put you at the scene.”

“I live there.”

“Then why wouldn’t you be a suspect?”

“You tell me it’s your job.” There was a faint of a smirk on his lips before he stood, walking out of the room. There was a slight wet spot poking at your panties. Your sex thrived, it craved. You look at the glass window, staring at your own reflection before your eyes trained on the silver table and your thighs that tried to stimulate your wet cunt.

you weren’t sure how long you were in that room, agents going in and out asking you the same thing- you figured after the cute one Reid came in they finally realized you were innocent. You thought about Hotch and his gaze. You were practically leaking by the hour..

Your hand grazed your thigh- thank the stars you wore a skirt, you spread them slightly, just enough for your hand to rub your swollen clit through the thin wet material. You bite your lip to hold in the moan. Your finger grazes your nub again, pressing down to feel just how much you throbbed..how much you wanted “Hotch..” you moan out silently, pulling your panties to the side. Your finger dipped into your sex, whimpering at how wet your were- how wet Hotch made you.

It was embarrassing to say the least. Getting off in an interrogation room, knowing that someone could be watching you. Would they take you in? Look at you like you’re down right crazy yes- but they can’t arrest you.. you hoped.

“H..Hotch- Fuck.” you hated holding back your moans; you hated limiting how loud you could be. Your head was laying on the table while you fingered your cunt. Three fingers in you were losing your mind. Your eyes were rolling, your other hand thumbing your clit..you imagined his tongue lapping at you like a dog and water. You saw him fucking your throat while you came over your hands like a pathetic slut. You saw him bending you over on this table and devouring you while you cried to him about how innocent you were.

The thought alone made your body twitch and your legs shake as they closed around your hand, your orgasm strong. You whimpered and panted, clenching your toes.

Suddenly the door opens, and he clears his throat. You couldn’t look up, your fingers itching for another orgasm- your sex leaking for his cock.

“You’re free to go.” Hotch says, but the door closes. “But i’d like to do some follow up questions just in case..”

[rreids]

EARLY MORNINGS • A. HOTCHNER X READER

part 2 to late nights; smut (needy hotch, some praise and some degradation, spit, unprotected sex (don't do what they are), hotch really is just there to be fucked he's head empty), afab!reader with no other gender/sex markers (i think); implied oral; tell me if i missed anything please; ~1.3k words. minors interacting w/ this will be blocked. read the fluff instead.

“Morning, baby,” a deep voice grumbles and you raise your hand to block the light filtering through the blinds to look at Aaron’s face.

“Morning,” you sigh happily, brushing a hand up and over his cheek until he smiles and it dimples under your fingers. “Been so long since I get to see you all puffy with sleep,”

Aaron sighs heavily. “Did you miss me just so you could tease me?”

“Something like that,” you purr, rolling him to be under you as you rest a little bit above his hips. “Didn’t you?”

He sucks in a breath quickly, quietly, hands steadying on your hips. “What’s all this?”

“Didn’t I say there’d be plenty of time for kisses in the morning?” You ask, peppering kisses down the column on his throat, leaving small red marks you know everyone will see but never dare to comment upon. “It’s morning.”

“You did.” His voice is already a little strained, and you only feel a slight twinge of guilt for the joy that gives you. He’s always so focused on work when he’s gone, the only time he ever gets off when he’s on a case is with your consent during late night calls, too weary every other night.

So when he’s home, and not busy, he gets worked up so easy. It’s a delight, toying with his sensitivity.

“Aaron,” you hum, dragging your nails across skin just harsh enough he jerks under you, muscles twitching. “Are you okay with just kisses?”

“No. No!” His response is instant, hand falling to grip by your ankles and holding you closer to the mattress, to him, by proxy. “God, I missed you, baby,”

“I missed you too,” you tell him, smiling as you undo one button of his sleep shirt. “Tell me what you want,”

“You.”

“I know you can do better than that,” you chide, stopping on the buttons and moving your hands to smooth over his chest and shoulders soothingly. “What,” you pause and nibble on his Adam’s apple, watching as he shudders, full-bodied, “do you want?”

Aaron whines, uncharacteristically high-pitched this early into you touching him. “Fuck me,”

“There we go.” 

You deftly undo his buttons and trail a fingernail over his v-line, humming as he shudders again.

“You’re sensitive today.”

There’s no malice or anything, just an observation. He gives a strained nod, eyes already hazy as you palm him over his pants.

“Been a while,”

“That it has, Hotchner,” you smile. “Now, tell me. How do you want it today?”

“Just wan’ your pussy, please, need to be in you,”

You giggle, delighting in how needy he is.

Silently, you shuffle backwards, just enough to pull his boxers down. He hisses at the cool air hitting sensitive skin. 

The tip of his cock is already an aggressive red, leaking and you just know it aches for something. For you.

“Pretty baby…” you smile when he whines, again. “Pathetic, too, huh?”

“No,” he denies, but the way he twitches at the word betrays him instantly. “You have to work for that.”

“Oh, yeah? That a challenge?” You scoff. 

Before he can get a word in edgewise, you thumb his slit and press hard against a vein you know is sensitive. He shakes, but he grits his teeth and clenches his jaw to stop the sounds begging to escape.

So it was a challenge. 

A test you’d be passing with flying colors.

You make sure his eyes are on you as you let spit dribble down onto his cock and slicken the slow, torturous glide of your hand. Make sure his eyes follow your other hand, going to rub circles on your clit, back arching far more than the pleasure calls for so his eyes jump to your breasts.

Aaron swallows and you smile at him, letting your eyes flutter extra too. 

“Feels so good, baby, right?”

He shakes his head in defiance.

“No? So I should stop.” You move to pull your hand away but he shoots an arm out to grip your wrist and hold your hand in place, weakly fucking his hips up into your touch. “Stop,” you order and he freezes, groaning when you squeeze tight enough for it to ebb away his pleasure. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Want you to fuck me…”

“I will. If you’re good,”

He nods.

“Words. Will you be good?”

“Mhm. Good,” he lets his hands fall away and lies fully back into the mattress, relaxing and presenting himself to you. His chest is already heaving.

Typically, you’d mess with him longer, but you’re slick between the thighs and it’s been too long. You know he’ll fall apart, how you want, anyways.

“Good. Now,” you move until he’s just below you, tap him against your clit, let his tip catch on your entrance a few times, stopping every time his hips cant instinctually upwards to your heat. “I’m going to fuck you. And all I want is to know how good you feel, how I make you feel. Got it?”

“Yes,” he whispers, voice crackling with need.

It feels wonderful when he fills you, but even better is the way his head presses back into the pillows and a broken moan tears from his throat, already so sensitive and high-strung.

A roll of your hips is enough for him to screw his eyes shut.

Once you get a rhythm and angle that feels good for you, you focus back on Aaron. His skin is sweat-slick, heated and flushed red, seared with his desire.

“How do you feel, love?”

“God, fuck, it’s so—” Aaron whimpers, cry catching in his throat. “So fuckin’ warm ‘nd wet, could live in it, pussy so good,”

You laugh, ignoring the bolt of arousal from his words. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, so good to me. Just so good. Always making me feel good, always want you. Head in your thighs, you using me, anything. Feels so fuckin’ good, sweetheart,”

“Maybe I’ll let you eat me out after…”

His hips buck up at the promise and you know he’ll be messy, eat his own cum out of you.

“Fuck,” you whisper, bringing a hand to your clit. “Gonna fill me up, Aaron?”

“Please?” He begs, eyes snapping open, blown so wide you can’t easily distinguish iris from pupil. “Lemme fill you up, wanna make a mess out of you, you’re— fuck, you’re squeezing me so tight, I can’t…”

You hum, clenching around him and relishing in the whimper.

“Beg.”

“Please! Baby, shit, I can’t last. Feels so good, clenchin’ and wet, can feel your pulse… can’t focus on anything else, just so fuckin’ good and wet…” his eyes fall from your face to where you take him so well and he groans, gripping your hips in his fingers. “So full of me. Such a pretty fuckin’ pussy, cunt just made for me…”

You tilt his chin back up to look at you.

“Cum for me,”

Normally, you like him loud, but it’s only six, so you kiss him as his hips stutter and he falls apart under you, muffled cries and praises smothered against your lips, broken mantras about how good and wet you are for him, how he could die with you on his tongue and be a fulfilled man, how he never wants to part from you, wants to fuck you until you’re both crying.

You cum easily too, less earth-shattering and more a pleasant burn of pleasure that forces you to climb off and catch your breath.

He’s still hard, gasping for air.

“Breakfast?” You question and he nods, holding you down by the waist.

“Me first.”

something about me is that i hold pathetic loserboys so near and dear to my heart and i will often write them like that because i love when a boy is blushy and desperate. amen. (it's why i like spencer & chip taylor so much)

[ipseitydelrey]

hi!!! i love your writing!!!! idk if you’ve done this yet but maybe…. a nsfw alphabet with hotch 🤭🤭

I BEG

omg yesss

nsfw alphabet ☆ aaron hotchner

ship aaron hotchner x afab!reader

warnings smut (duh), mention of sex toys, implied unprotected sex (practice safe sex please!), size difference kink, thigh fucking, mention of degradation and spanking, masturbation, office sex, oral (mostly f receiving), rough sex, quickies, shower sex, phone sex, teasing, mentions of haley (rip queen)

a/n i need him; also sorry this took so long !!

A = aftercare (what are they like after sex?)

it’s like a half-half thing; sometimes he’ll run the shower for you, get you some water, etcetera — or he’ll just lay in bed with you and hold you. either way, you’re not complaining.

B = body part (their favourite body part of theirs and of yours)

aaron hasn’t really thought about a particular body part of his that he likes more than others, but he does sometimes favour his hands. a size difference kink might come into play with this preference, but he just likes stroking your cheek or thigh, or maybe just holding your hand.

as for you, it’s no contest that he loves your thighs the most. it’s obvious to you, but he honestly also hasn’t thought about his preference for your body parts too. but during sex, you notice how his hands tend to trail down to your thighs, or he would pay extra attention to them when he’s eating you out.

C = cum (anything to do with cum)

buried in you; that’s how he likes to finish. he loves cumming in you and filling you up to the brim, it’s a mouth-watering visual for him.

D = dirty secret (a dirty secret of theirs)

with other partners (mostly haley), he’s definitely vanilla; like definitely, no degradation/dirty talk either. however, with you, he’s been thinking about discussing trying more spicy things in the bedroom — namely things like degradation and spanking.

E = experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they're doing?)

ahem, haley. most of his experience with sex is with her, so after she died and he had time to heal and go back into the dating scene, he experimented a little more with different types of partners; he’s probably more experienced than you, at this point.

F = favourite position (this goes without saying)

prefers missionary for more control and intimacy but if you wanted, he would be more than willing to let you ride him.

G = goofy (are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc.)

serious both outside and inside the bedroom; he’d definitely take sex much more seriously at the beginning of your relationship. as you both grow much more comfortable with each other, he’ll make small quips of humour during the act.

H = hair (how well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

just look at his hands — you can tell that he has a lot of body hair without even seeing him naked. definitely has a mouth-watering happy trail.

I = intimacy (how are they during the moment, romantic aspect...)

he absolutely does not do one night stands or hookups, so romance is a necessity for him to even think about having sex with someone. expect a lot of “i love you”s during the act and expect to return them.

J = jack off (masturbation headcanon)

he does it, but not as often as other people might. probably would do it on a case in the hotel/motel if he really misses you :(

K = kink (one or more of their kinks)

before you, aaron didn’t really explore the kinky side of sex, so he always remained pretty vanilla in that department. one kink that you noticed he has but he himself would never admit to is a size difference kink.

L = location (favourite places to have sex)

as much as he would love to fuck on the desk in his office…yeah, he prefers to keep it in the bedroom. he has yet to tell you about his office sex idea but knowing you, you’d be onboard for it.

M = motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

doesn’t have any specific things that turn him on — except whenever you wear his work shirts. they look loose and a tad too big to be form fitting, but he absolutely loves it and can’t wait to rip it off you.

N = nope (something they wouldn't do, turn offs)

as much as he would like to experiment with kinky sex, he really objects to being too dominating; he wants you to still have some level of control so if you want, you can take the helm anytime you so wished. of course, he’d also never want to hurt you, and he might not want to experiment with possible bondage until a while later into your relationship. also, he absolutely does not want to be called any dominating title in bed, like “sir,” “master” and especially “daddy.”

O = oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

aaron’s a giver, through and through. there are times where he does like getting a blowjob, he likes eating you out way more. probably because you tend to bury your hands in his hair and tug a little bit to signal something you like him doing.

P = pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

it does depend on mood and the reason you’re having sex, but typically the pace is slow and deep. this can change since — considering how stressed out he usually is because of his job and workload — some cases would just get to him, or his job gets to be too much. so he would take it out on you by going fast and rough.

Q = quickies (their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

doesn’t particularly favour them, but what can he do when he’s on-call 24/7? the only time he likes quickies are when you’re showering together and he just can’t handle how good you look soaking wet. first round in the shower, then the second, third, or even fourth round(s) in the bedroom.

R = risk (are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

later in your relationship, he does want to experiment with kinkier sex, but risks are a hard no.

S = sexts (yes? no? pictures?)

aaron wouldn’t be into sexts and nudes so much as he would be into phone sex. considering how often you’re away from each other, and you both have the opportunity to be alone with your phones, he would 100% take it.

T = toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

he knows the different types of sex toys, but he doesn’t own any and has never used them. but sex toys are definitely on his list of things he would like to test on you during sex. only if you’re up for it (who are you kidding, of course you are).

U = unfair (how much they like to tease)

again, depends on the mood, but sometimes he does like to tease you. only sometimes though; usually he just wants to get right to the fucking just in case he gets called in.

V = volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make)

unfortunately, aaron’s the type of guy to mostly be quiet and not outright loud. he also doesn’t moan; he sticks to grunts and groans (they’re still hot to listen to).

W = wild card (get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

he really wants to try thigh fucking. seeing his cock push and drag through your closed thighs, getting lubed by a combination of your wetness and his precum is a visual that turns him on so much. he has yet to tell you though, but he’s been hinting at it…

X = x-ray (dick size)

girthy, above average, and not one, but THREE prominent veins (good lord…).

Y = yearning (how high is their sex drive? how many rounds can they go for, how long do they last...)

not that high, unfortunately; you definitely have a higher sex drive than him, that’s for sure. rarely, he’s one and done, he does tend to aim for two or three rounds if possible. if he’s worked up or stressed out, however, he could probably go all night.

Z = zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

he tries to keep himself awake until you fall asleep. he wants to make sure you’re comfortable and content with the outcome of the night’s activities before he can relax; you’re a top priority to him.

[captainamericasmotercycle]

secretary

pairing: aaron hotchner x reader

warnings: smut, MINORS DNI, 18+, kind of dark!hotch, cheating themes, boss/secretary, p in v sex, cursing, office sex, semi-public sex, female reader (afab reader), dark themes

wc: 1.7k

a/n: if you do not like reading a boss/secretary relationship or cheating - DO NOT READ. i put warnings for a reason so please, if you know you’re not going to enjoy it, save yourself the time and skip over it. my writing is not for everyone. also I DO NOT CONDONE CHEATING. just because i write about it does not mean i condone it in real life - all of my works are purely fictional for entertainment.

*smut under the cut

You began working as Aaron Hotchner’s secretary about 8 months ago.

When you first started at the BAU, it was an understatement to say you were intimidated, but as you broke down the emotional walls of your boss, everything became better.

You didn’t travel with the team, but you waited for their return from every case. But mostly Aaron’s return.

Anyone in a 10 mile radius could see the tension between you two, though you denied your crush on him, and him, you.

He would never admit his attraction to you, he was married for God’s sake! But his marriage was failing and everyone knew. While he suppressed his feelings for you, they only grew stronger, with every waking day.

But in your case, who wouldn’t fall for the strong, head-strong, tall, damaged, father?

Both of you kept your relationship professional, albeit, tonight in particular seemed different. Aaron was locked in his office as normal, and you worked at your desk in the bullpen, silently.

Except, you were the only two left on your floor. The clock on your computer shifted to 11:26 as you yawned. Scanning the room, you looked up to Aaron’s office, still seeing him hunched over his work.

Stalking up the stairs to the higher level of offices, you knocked softly on the door. A low, come in, followed.

You entered the room, he didn’t look up at you, but God, did he look hot.

“You need to go home, Agent Hotchner. It’s almost 11:30, I’m sure your wife and son are waiting for you,” he finally looked up from his papers.

“Jack’s at a friend’s tonight and Haley is out of town. I’m fine, go ahead and head out.”

You knew it was wrong but you felt bolder tonight, something took over you. You walked behind his desk, looming behind his chair, you set your hands on his shoulders, moving them slowly in a massaging manner, “You’re too tense, Agent Hotchner. You need to go home, too.”

He froze in his chair, is this some fantasy he’s hallucinating? Are you really here or is he just exhausted?

You lowered you hands to his pecs, leaning over his shoulder, “Come on, Agent, it’s late.”

This feels real, but is it?

He says your name firmly, but you don’t stop. You lightly kiss his cheek, feeling his stubble on your lips.

He knows it’s wrong, but he deserves this. He leans back into your touch as you kiss down his neck.

He pulls away from you and stands up. Grabbing your waist, he pulls your lips to his, harshly. Your hands rest on his torso as one of his rests behinds your head and the other on your ass.

As he deepens the kiss, he moves both hands to your ass, squeezing tightly, under your short skirt.

Picking you up with his brute strength, he sets you on his clean, organized desk. He pulls from your lips and gets down on his knees at the edge of the desk.

Yanking down your skirt and underwear, he shoves his head between your thighs, licking a rough stripe from your asshole to your clit.

He maneuvers his tongue between your folds at a rapid pace, provoking a roaring moan. Your clit throbs as he circles it with his tongue and sucks at it. You keep a firm grip on his hair, driving his face deeper into you.

He pushes you to an orgasm quicker than you’d like, you don’t want this to end. As you cum, your legs shake over his shoulders with pleasure.

He rises from your sex and presses a hard kiss to your lips. He forces off your blouse and bra, taking a breast into his mouth. He moans at the feeling, you feel the vibrations in your chest. Pulling away, he lightly grazes your nipple with his teeth.

Fiddling with his belt, he finally gets it off and nearly jumps out of his pants. He pumps his erection a couple of times before pushing it into you.

He grabs you hips, pulling you closer to him. Your hips slam into his. As he begins to thrust into you, he presses both his large hands to your tits, using them as a grip to move quicker.

Neither of you can barely contain your moans, screaming out into the empty office.

Your back arches off the desk, “Oh my fuck,” you shiver with arousal.

The quiet office, now becoming loud, would most have definitely caused an uproar if the office had been full.

He thrusts hard, hitting his pelvis to yours, which is most definitely going to bruise. As you approach another orgasm, he pulls out of you, making you gasp at the sudden loss of contact.

He flips you over and has you bent at the waist over his desk. He pulls his hand back and lands a firm, rough slap to your ass, leaving a red handprint. He smacks you another time and you moan out.

Aaron bends down to whisper in your ear, “Do you know how long I’ve waited for something like this.”

He shoves his cock into your cunt, creating a fast, but steady pace. He holds down your hips on the desk.

He lands another slap on your ass, “This is what you deserve, after walking around in your short skirts, teasing me during meetings, and getting me hard during work.”

Tears rolls down your cheeks, “I don’t regret any of it, Aaron,”

“We’re on first name basis, now, are we?”

You shivered at his gravelly voice, “No, sir,” stuttering out, he spanked you again.

“Good girl.”

As he continued to move, you felt his pace falter, he pulled out of you and finished himself over your red, handprint stained ass.

“Fuck,” he breathed out heavily, leaving back in his chair.

You stood from your position and rubbed your sore ass.

You stalked over to him, straddling yourself over his bare lap, you grab his tie, pulling yourself to his face. You kiss him gently on the mouth.

He wants to pull away but he just can’t. As you move in for another kiss he turns his head, “This is wrong, Y/N.”

“I know,”

“We shouldn’t be doing this, I’m married,”

“I know,”

“I need to stop,”

“Mhm,” you hummed as you placed soft kisses along his jawline.

You shifted your body over him, making him hard once again.

“Fuck it,” he lifted you from his lap onto his cock.

Holding your hips, he bounced you up and down his shaft. You kept your arms over his shoulders as you breathlessly rode him.

You rolled your hips over his and he whimpered. Fucking whimpered.

You kept going as he let out obscene sounds. As he was about to cum again, he pushed you off and stood up.

You stood vulnerably in front of him, fully nude, watching as he finished himself off over some blank paper. You watched his seed drench something that wasn’t you.

Why wouldn’t he just cum in you?

“Aaron, you don’t have to do that,” he came closer to you, his eyes dark.

“I do. I’m not trying to get my fucking secretary fucking pregnant,” you rolled your eyes at him and went for another kiss, he hesitantly reciprocated.

God, this is so wrong.

He picked you up, shoving your back against the wall. He had you pinned between him and the wall, your legs around his waist. Nipping at your neck, you arched your back. He teased your entrance with his tip, just grazing over the sensitive areas.

He did this until you begged him to get inside of you, “Please, Aar-, Sir, I need you,”

“Again?” Letting out a strangled moan, his voice got heavy, “Use your words,”

“Yes, fuck, I need you,”

He slowly let you drift onto his cock. Keeping you up against the wall, he was practically fucking you into the wall, his hips moved at a rapid pace.

Your tits sprung up and down, forcing a tugging feeling on your torso, only adding to you pleasure.

You watched Aaron’s face as he fucked you. You watched the sweat bead on his forehead and the rough ridges between his furrowed brows. You watched as his focus on your tits only grew.

It was like a scene right out of a porno.

Your walls clenched around his hard cock, and he pulled out once again. He dropped you down from the wall and pushed you down to your knees.

You stared as his impressive endowment before taking it into your mouth quickly. He watched from above as you looked up at him.

He watched your eyes flutter and your pretty little mouth around him. He watched as you worked up and down his shaft, only growing closer to an orgasm.

He felt a knot in his stomach, knowing he was about to cum again. With your mouth still on him, he let go, his cum shooting into you, hitting the back of your throat. He watched as you pulled back at the contact and swallowed.

You pulled away from him and quietly gathered your things and got dressed. Before walking out of his office he landed another slap on your ass.

You stopped at the door and turned to him, “Call me, if you ever get bored of your wife.”

Walking down from his office and across the bullpen, Aaron watched you sway to the elevators from his window.

As you stepped out of the elevators, you said goodbye to the night time security guards on the way to the parking garage. They did not miss your completely disheveled look and slight limp in your walk.

“Are you okay, ma’am?”

“I’m perfect,” you smiled at them as you left.

The next morning, you walked into work, with a smile on your face and the tightest skirt you could manage.

Aaron peered through his office window, watching you flirt with Spencer. As Spencer looked away from you with a blush, you looked up to Aaron’s office.

He wanted to take you right there. He craved you. And he was so fucked.

[ithebookhoarder]

Do you have any criminal minds fics in progress? I’d love to see more of your work for them :)

A Sweet Surprise (Aaron Hotchner x AFAB!Reader)

A/N: Oh do I? Haha. Well, whilst my inbox of requests is bursting this randomly fell out of my brain, so great timing with this I guess? I promise I will get to the other stories soon people - in the meantime, enjoy xxx

Also, if any of you guys enjoy my work, or just feel like it, then visit my Ko-fi here: https://ko-fi.com/ithebookhoarder ☕️

Warnings: Alcohol, mentions of pregnancy, Aaron being a protective partner

Masterlist

“Aaron, honey, stop," you giggled, trying and failing to wriggle free from your husband’s wandering hands. "I swear, I am fine. Don’t make me banish you back into the living room. You know Garcia has been dying to get you to play Monopoly and, so help me God, I will tell her you’re dying to be the shoe.“

Aaron’s laugh was infectious and if you weren’t so stressed you’d have melted into him. Instead, your eyes narrowed into a warning glare as he reached for you again. 

“I just think you should let me help you, honey-” he pleaded, falling silent as soon as you heard footsteps approaching the kitchen doorway. You glanced up, watching as your host for the evening, Rossi, appeared, an empty glass of wine in hand. He had clearly come in need of a refill of whatever expensive vintage he had cracked open for your monthly team dinner. 

“Help with what?” he teased, watching as Aaron sheepishly stepped back, as if he was a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “Aaron, you may be the boss in the office but in the kitchen? We both know Y/N is the only one I trust to help me cook, so leave her be and come relax in the other room, ok? She clearly has dessert handled.” 

“Thank you, Rossi.” You smirked, pushing Aaron back with a floured covered hand. “I told him I could handle a pie, but you know what he’s like.”

“I’m just offering to help.”

“Which I thank you for, but I got this,” you assured, even if he clearly disagreed. 

“I know, but it’s been a long day, why don’t you let me finish this-”

“Aaron Hotchner, go and sit down. Now.”

Rossi’s eyes widened as he let the bickering continue, waiting until he had finished filling his glass before he decided to weigh in again. He knew the pair of you better than you knew yourselves sometimes and it didn’t take a rocket scientist to work out what was going on here. 

Aaron was protective of those he loved at the best of times, but something was different - and considering you hadn’t touched any of the drinks that had been put in front of you tonight, he had a pretty good idea what.  

“Aaron,” he sighed, placing a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Come on, come have a drink with me and the team. We both know Y/N is going to be ok. She’ll join us in a minute, or she’ll ask if she needs help.” 

"But-"

"Leave the poor girl alone," Rossi teased, shooting you both a knowing look. “Otherwise, you'll give yourselves away before we even get to dinner.”

Aaron coughed but failed to hide the shock on his face. It was no use either of you trying to deny it, not when your closest friends were also profilers. If anything, you were surprised you two had been able to hide it this long - and it had only been a mere week since you’d first told him the good news. 

“Ah,” he choked, turning slightly red. However, he relaxed as soon as you turned and pressed a kiss against his cheek. He could see you were relieved by the discovery, rather than upset, and that was enough to make him remember who it was he was sharing the news with. 

"Ha! I told youuuuu,” you sang smugly. “And now you owe me $50. I knew you’d be the one to give it away.” 

“Yeah, yeah. Laugh it up, sweetheart.”

“Oh, I will.” 

“Well, congratulations to you both,” Rossi said simply, lifting his glass in a silent toast. He then shook Aaron’s hand and reached to pull you into a hug of his own. However, it was he went to let you go that he paused. “And Y/N? If you do need a break, or want me to finish dessert, I can-“

"Oh my god, Rossi! Not you too,” you laughed, rolling your eyes. “Are you going to tell anyone?”  

“Oh, hell no,” he chuckled. “Given your performance tonight, I want to see if you can manage to keep it a secret from the team until dinner, let alone until work on Monday."

"So much for the being the best profilers in the US," you snorted, remembering how it had been Jack who had first worked it out rather than his usually observant father. He'd been the one to spot the pregnancy pamphlets hidden in your purse, after digging to find the candy he knew you always kept in there.

Of course, he'd only reacted with excitement upon learning he was going to be a big brother - leading to him bursting into the house, asking when he'd get to play with his new sibling... yeah, you'd thought Aaron was about to pass out he went so white.

��Hey, now. In my defence,” Aaron protested, “you're not showing yet."

"So my weird ass craving requests didn't tip you off?"

"Honey, you eat so much weird shit normally... Like, so much. Even Jack wouldn't eat half the stuff you do."

Well, he had you there. "... You still owe me $50."

[persephonewritessometimes]

Aaron Hotchner x bau!reader

Where after months ( cuz shes new n young working there)they cant také anymore their attraction to each other.

Key sentences: Hotch: I’m old enough to be your father. R: Should I call you Daddy then?

Smut n fluff

Please

Author's Note: oooo thank you for this request anon!! thinking many thoughts, head very full

Summary: It's no secret that you have a thing for your boss - a man 25 years your senior. What happens when he reveals he has feelings for you too?

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x (AFAB) Reader

Word Count: 5108 (i got carried away hehe)

Warnings: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!! UNDER 18? PLEASE KEEP SCROLLING! SMUT; DADDY KINK; SIR KINK; OVERSTIMULATION; MULTIPLE ORGASMS; UNPROTECTED P IN V (don't be like them y'all, stay safe); DOM!HOTCH, SUB!READER; READER IS HORNY; FINGERING; ORAL (F RECEIVING) reader gets distracted by Hotch's hands, pining, confession of feelings, reader blacks out from cumming really hard; Hotch calls reader "good girl, princess, baby"; Morgan is a cheeky bastard (as per usual)

This work is meant for readers aged 18 and over. You are responsible for your own media consumption.

“Y/N, you're staring, again," Morgan says with a chuckle and I quickly find somewhere else to look that isn't our section chief. Which I was definitely not having rated-R thoughts about.

"Shut up, Morgan," I mutter.

"Why don't you just tell him how you feel?" I turn and stare at him now, eyes wide in disbelief.

"Sure, why don't I just tell a much older man that every time I look at him, I feel weak in the knees and sweaty? That would really go over well." I say, sarcastically.

"We're getting tired of watching you eye-fuck him, Y/N." Emily sighs, jumping into the conversation.

"It's getting kind of pathetic at this point," Morgan adds and I smack him on the shoulder.

"You guys are being mean. Let me pine in peace."

"Y/N, none of us are at peace when you start acting like a dog in heat every time Hotch walks in the room. It's genuinely hard to watch." Morgan shoots back, grinning at me. I feel my cheeks grow hot at his brazen comment. "Just put us out of our misery and get laid for once, damn." I feel my cheeks growing even hotter.

"He - he doesn't like me like that." I'm tripping over my words, embarrassed that everyone can see what's clearly written by my body language when Hotch is around.

"Y/N, sweetie, you're smart, but sometimes you're an idiot," Emily says kindly. "He likes you."

"Trust us, we know," Morgan adds.

"How?" I say and cross my arms over my chest.

"Really? Okay. Whenever he's giving a briefing and you're standing next to him, his body gravitates towards yours, you're the first person he looks for in every room, Y/N, two weeks ago on that case in Charleston he almost throttled the officer that merely tried to flirt with you."

"Wait, that officer was flirting with me?" I've only been here a few months, so I haven't learned how to read people as well as him yet.

"Oh my god, she actually is an idiot." Morgan groans. "Yes! He always got you coffee refills without asking, offered you the first pick of the donuts, and gave you, and only you, a very thorough tour of the precinct. He was trying to impress you." He looks at me closely. "How the fuck did you get this job?" I shrug.

"Impeccable academic record?" I suggest timidly, and he snorts.

"Just pay attention to Hotch. More than you are already. You'll see."

"He's old enough to be my dad," I say.

"Why do I have the feeling that only fuels your fantasies?" Morgan mutters. "I'm done with this conversation. Either you tell him, Y/N, or I will."

"MORGAN!" He just throws his hands up in the air giving me an exasperated look. "Em? A little back up here?"

"As much as I hate to agree with Morgan, he has a point. It’s kind of hard to focus on work when we all know what’s going on except for you two. I mean this in the nicest way possible, but just say something, for the sake of everyone who has to be in a room with you guys. I could cut the tension between you two like a knife.” She gives me a small smile.

“I- I’m just nervous. What if you guys are wrong?” She places her hand over mine.

“We’re not wrong, Y/N. We even asked Reid to weigh in and he agrees with us. Just say something.” I frown and head back to my desk, needing to be alone with my thoughts for a while. I’m deep in a stack of paperwork when Hotch calls the team into a meeting. I sigh, set my pen aside, and make my way into the boardroom. I’m on high alert, due to Morgan’s comment, and as I step into the room, I glance at Hotch to find him already looking at me. He looks away quickly and I watch as the tips of his ears turn pink. Oh my god, they were right.

I’m hyper-aware of him the whole meeting, so much so that I barely heard a word he was saying.

“Y/N? Are you paying attention?” Hotch asks, looking at me.

“Uh, yes, sir.” I blurt out in a panic. I wasn’t expecting him to directly address me.

“YES SIR?” Morgan hollers. “That’s a new one.” Even Em is hiding a smile behind her hand. Hotch glares at him.

“Don’t tease her, Morgan. Y/N, please pay attention.”

“I will, sorry Hotch.” He just nods and goes back to what he was saying. I tried to pay attention I really did but I found myself watching his hands as he talked. He gestures at the screen, then to something in the paper he had given us, then puts his hand on his hip. His fingers are so thick I wonder if two would even fit inside of me. I’m thinking about him fingering me on his desk, pussy splayed and dripping for him, and I shift in my seat, feeling the wetness in my panties. Dammit, Y/N, don’t get carried away.

“Y/N, seriously,” Hotch sighs a few minutes later and I’m dragged from my dirty daydream. “I need you to pay attention or leave. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me today.”

“I’ve got an idea,” Morgan whispers with a grin. I glare at him.

“I’m trying to pay attention, I swear.”

“Are you sick? You look a bit warm, why don’t you step out for a few minutes.” I just nod, too embarrassed to look him in the eyes. “And I want to see you in my office when we’re done with this meeting.” I nod again and feel my stomach drop to my ass in nervousness. I quickly walk out of the room and am pacing when the door opens up and Morgan walks out, a shit-eating grin on his face.

“What the hell were you thinking about in there?” He whispers, then pauses, “Actually, I’m not sure I want to know.”

“Just leave me alone, Morgan. I’m embarrassed enough already.” I say quietly.

“Oh, baby girl, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to tease you too much. You’re just an easy target. If it helps any, Hotch was downright flushed after you left. He stumbled over his words. Twice. I’ve never seen him that flustered. It’s like he knew what you were thinking about.” He nudges me with his shoulder. “Don’t sweat it, okay?”

“You’re not the one who has to face him in his office,” I grumble.

“Well, just make sure you guys close the blinds.”

“MORGAN! Shut up!” He’s laughing as he walks away. JJ and Em shoot me sympathetic smiles as they walk by and Reid pats me on the shoulder. Hotch doesn’t say a word as he walks out of the boardroom, and I diligently follow him to his office.

“Take a seat.” He says, gesturing at the chair and my eyes follow his hand again. Y/N! Stop! That’s what got you in trouble in the first place! I quickly take a seat, clasping my hands in my lap. “Now do you want to tell me why you were so distracted today?” He asks, looking at me. I feel the heat creep up my chest and onto my cheeks.

“I-um-no. No, I don’t.” He raises an eyebrow at that.

“Really? Because Morgan seems to have an idea. Maybe I should go ask him what he thinks.”

“No!” I blurt out. “Sorry. It’s just…embarrassing.” He just looks at me and I sigh before whispering, “Your hands. I was distracted by your hands.”

“My…hands?” He says slowly.

“Yes, sir, I mean Hotch, sorry. I know it’s not appropriate and I apologize.”

“What is it about my hands?” He asks, his voice low and in a tone that makes my heartbeat travel down to my pussy. I shift in my seat, a movement that most likely does not go unnoticed by him. “Y/N. Look at me.” I take a shaky breath and look up at him, all rational thoughts leaving my head when I see that his cheeks are pink, and his pupils are so blown I can barely see the brown. “What is it. About my hands.” He enunciates every word.

“They’re big,” I whisper.

“And what does that make you think about?”

“Please don’t make me say it.”

“No, no I want to hear you say it.”

In the smallest voice possible I say, “I was wondering if your fingers would even fit in me.” I hear him take in a sharp breath. “What it would feel like to be spread out on your desk with - with your fingers inside of me.”

“Careful, Y/N, you’re walking a thin line.” He murmurs.

“Haven’t I crossed it already, sir?”

“I’m old enough to be your father.” He says, words clipped. I get a sudden burst of confidence and stare him down.

“Should I call you Daddy, then?” I ask sweetly. I watch as he tightens his jaw.

“Watch your mouth, little girl. You don’t want to see how mean Daddy can get.”

“And what if I want to find out, Daddy?” I watch as his nostrils flare and he takes a deep breath.

“That’s enough, Y/N.” He spits out and I still, and fear that I’m about to lose my job to ill-timed arousal. My breath hitches as he leans back in his chair, eyes carefully watching me. “What am I gonna do with you?”

“Whatever you’d like to, sir,” I say simply and I watch his jaw tick again.

“Listen to me very carefully. We are going to go downstairs, you are going to gather your things, and you are not going to say a single word. I’m going to tell everyone that you’re not feeling well enough to drive, so I’m taking you home.” I swallow hard, not believing that this is actually happening right now. “Do you understand?” I nod quickly. “I need to hear you say you understand. Or else this stops now, and we don’t speak of it again.”

“I understand completely, sir.”

“Good girl.” He says in a low voice and a whimper escapes me before I can shove it down. He stiffens. “Do you like that? Hearing that you’re a good girl?” My pussy clenches around nothing, begging to be filled.

“Yes, Daddy.” He hums, getting up quickly and my mouth goes dry when I see the tented fabric of his pants. He shrugs off his suit jacket and slings it over his forearm and in front of his body, effectively hiding his raging boner. He walks over to me, and I hastily get up from the chair, and he grabs my arm, gripping it just hard enough to keep me grounded and lucid despite the lust-filled thoughts in my head. He yanks open his office door and we make our way down the stairs. I keep my head down as we approach my desk, the bullpen so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

“Y/N isn’t feeling well. I’m driving her home.” Hotch says, letting go of my arm so I can grab my jacket and purse. I glance at him, nodding that I have everything, and he grabs my arm again, and we hastily walk towards the elevator.

“GO EASY ON HER, HOTCH!” Morgan shouts, and I hear Em laugh.

“Shut up, Morgan.” Hotch growls over his shoulder, and I glance back at Morgan, who mouths ‘Good luck’ at me. “Don’t look at him. The only person you should be looking at is me, princess.” We get in the elevator, and he pushes the button so hard I think that he’s going to break the damn thing.

“Jesus, what’s got you so riled up?” I say sweetly, not caring that I’d probably pay for that question later. I just want to see him snap, lose that carefully cultivated control and unleash himself on me. He turns on me in a second, caging my body between the wall of the elevator and the hard planes of his body. He grabs my chin, tilting my face up to look at him.

“Watch yourself. I’d hate for you to get into something you can’t handle.”

“I can take whatever you throw at me, sir.” He laughs.

“Yeah, right, princess. Keep talking a big game – we’ll see how far that gets you.”

“Well, it got me here, didn’t it?”

“Right where you wanted, I presume?” He asks, tilting his head and there’s nothing friendly in his eyes. I just nod, sucking in a breath when he pushes his body closer to mine and his hard-on is pressing into my thigh. “Before this goes further: green for go, yellow for slow down, red for hard stop, no questions asked. Do you understand?” I nod, and he raises his eyebrows.

“I understand!” I blurt out.

“Good.” He suddenly dips his head down, nose bumping into mine as we share the same breaths for a few seconds. “I’m going to ruin you.” He whispers onto my lips, not quite kissing me.

“Please. Ruin me, Daddy,” I whisper and he’s kissing me as soon as the last word is out of my mouth. It’s overwhelming, the way he kisses, stealing all the air from my lungs in a millisecond. I gasp when the hand from my chin drops to my chest, reaching into my dress shirt and under my tank top to tweak my right nipple. He takes that opportunity to slip his tongue into my mouth, tasting me. The elevator dings and his hand disappears from my shirt and his lips retreat. I whine at the sudden loss of contact, as we had just gone from 100 miles an hour to 0 miles an hour.

“I know, princess, I’m sorry. You don’t want Daddy to get caught, do you?” I shake my head vigorously and he chuckles, escorting me to his car, and opens the passenger door for me, ever the gentleman. He gets in and starts the car as I buckle my seatbelt. He backs out of the parking spot, placing one hand on the back of my headrest and I suck in a sharp breath. He glances at me. “Really? You’re turned on by my driving?”

“I can’t help it. I’m sorry.” I breathe out, not daring to look at him. My cheeks are warm, and I feel frazzled. I jump when his hand comes to rest on my thigh, dangerously close to where I want him. I shift my hips, trying to get him closer to where I need him. He smacks my thigh abruptly.

“Don’t do that. You can wait.” He says gruffly.

“I can’t. I can’t wait.” I gasp out. “Please. Please touch me. I need you. Please, sir, I’ll do anything.”

“I’ll oblige you, but only because you begged so prettily. I like it when you sound desperate. One rule though: no cumming without my permission.” His hand slips under my skirt and I thank god that this was one of the rare days I decided to wear one. His fingers ghost over my cunt, the lightest touch and my breathing is already starting to labor. When his fingers press my clit from outside my panties my hips buck into the air. “Someone’s responsive.” He says, more to himself than me. His fingers trail lower, and he groans when he feels the wet spot. “Already this wet for me, princess?”

“Only for you, Daddy.” I whimper when he pushes my panties to the side, hand now free to touch as he pleases. His fingers come up to tease my clit again before one deftly slips inside of me. I let out a choked sound, tight around him. Just one finger feels thick, and when he slips in another finger I keen, tightening again.

“Jesus, you’re tight.” He curls his fingers and hits that spot inside of me that I struggle to hit by myself. I gasp, hand closing around his wrist, and I don’t know if I’m trying to stop him or egg him on. He continues to work his fingers in me as he drives and I’m not sure how he’s managing to stay on the road. I know I should reciprocate but the feeling of his fingers plunging in and out of me has made every thought I’ve ever had flee my brain. After a few minutes, my thighs start to shake and I’m panting, so close to a mind-blowing orgasm that I forget he told me I can’t cum without his permission. His fingers slip out of me seconds before I hit my peak.

“NO!” I shout, shaking in the passenger seat, sitting in a small puddle of my own arousal. I hope it stains his impeccable leather seats.

“Only good girls get to cum, and you haven’t been a good girl today, baby,” He says, “Open.” I open my mouth and he slips the fingers he just had inside of me into my awaiting mouth. I suck his fingers off earnestly, just like I would to his cock if he gave me the chance. He pulls his fingers out with a pop and I realize he’s parked the car in his garage. Is this really happening? I think to myself. “Color?” He asks me, turning my face so I can look into his eyes. I could get lost in his eyes.

“Green,” I say quickly.

“Good girl,” He whispers and meets my mouth in a messy kiss full of tongue, need, and teeth.

I don’t know how we made it inside, but as soon as I cross through the doorway, Hotch throws me over his shoulder, and I shriek. He carries me to the bedroom, dropping me on the bed. I’m paralyzed as I watch him rip his tie off, dress shirt following soon after. He’s beautiful, and I want to run my hands all over him and feel every scar. My eyes are tracing his chest and ever the profiler, he notices.

“You can touch. It’s okay.” He walks over to me, planting himself between my legs. I timidly touch his stomach, trailing my hands up his abdomen, running my fingers along his scars in quiet admiration. He suddenly takes my hand, kissing it, a break in the dominant façade. I give him a soft smile, one that has always been reserved for him, and his breath hitches in his chest. His hands cup my face, looking into my eyes, and I’ve never felt safer than I have at this moment. I close my eyes, leaning into his touch, my hands resting on his wrists. It feels like we’re the only people in the world, two souls destined to collide. His next kiss is gentle as if he doesn’t want to ruin the moment, but he tosses his resolve out the window when I bite his bottom lip. He growls, pushing me onto my back and stepping out of his pants and boxers. I push myself up on my elbows to watch him and gasp when he’s revealed to me completely. He’s big. Bigger than I’ve had before. I knew it would be big because of his damn hands. “You’re far too dressed for my liking.” He mutters, and the next moment he actually rips my shirt off of me, buttons flying everywhere.

“HOTCH!” He stops, looking at me.

“Try again, sweetheart.”

“Sorry. Daddy.”

“Much better. And Daddy will buy you a new one, okay?” I nod, suddenly unable to think as he slides off my tank top and unclasps my bra. My nipples are aching to be touched and as if he can read my mind, his head dips down to take my left nipple in his mouth. I suck in a breath, my hand coming to rest on the back of his head. His tongue laves over my nipple, and I swear I see God for a moment. He moves to the other side and my cunt is begging for attention. He slides my skirt and panties off without once leaving my chest. And when I’m naked before him, he kisses his way up my throat, leaving hickeys that will definitely be hard to hide.

“Daddy, people will see.”

“And? They should know whom you belong to.” He says plainly, he leans back, admiring my form and my hips jump up on their own accord, grazing his weeping tip in the process.

“Fuck, princess, don’t do that.”

“Please, please, please, Daddy, I need you so bad.”

“Daddy has to make sure you’re ready for him. I don’t know if my fat cock will fit in your tight little pussy.” I whimper at his words, more turned on than I’ve ever been in my entire life. He slides down my body, pressing kisses into my skin as he goes until he gets on his knees, dragging me towards the edge of the bed. He slings both of my legs over his shoulder, pressing a chaste kiss into my thigh. “Your pussy is dripping for me, princess. Can I taste it?”

“Please,” I manage to whisper, and I watch as his head dips down and he licks up my pussy. He groans against my clit when he tastes me, and I shout in surprise at the added stimulation. He chuckles against me and goes to work, tongue thrusting shallowly in me before coming up to tease my clit. He’s getting me closer to the edge and when I feel two of his fingers slide into me easily, I sigh contentedly. He finds the spongy spot inside of me with ease, hitting it every time he thrusts his fingers into me. I’m hurtling towards my peak when I gasp out, “Daddy, please, I’m close, can I cum? Please? I’ll be a good girl, I promise. Your good girl.” His eyes flick up and he watches me, never stopping, and watches as my abdomen tenses and I start to clench around his fingers, panting. He pulls his mouth away from me just long enough to whisper,

“You can let go, princess.” And resumes his torturous pace on me. My hand shoots down to grip his hair and a few seconds later my orgasm rips through me. I shout loudly, hips moving with abandon against his face, and he doesn’t let up, continuing to lick and finger me through it until I’m twitching with overstimulation.

“Daddy, please, too much.”

“You wanted to cum, princess, so you’re going to cum until I’m done.” He growls and goes back to eating me out. I had no time to come down from my first orgasm and my body is already sprinting full speed ahead toward my second. My thighs clench around his face but it doesn’t stop him. He stills his fingers inside me and simply presses them into my G-spot, never letting up, just putting constant pressure on it.

I’m babbling at this point, nothing coherent coming from my lips except for ‘daddy’ and ‘please’. My orgasm blindsides me and I clench hard around his fingers and scream, not caring if anyone can hear me. My vision goes spotty as I continue to cum until he finally slips his fingers out and I feel like I can breathe again. I’m gasping for air as his touch trails along my hips.

“Still with me, pretty girl?” I nod still gasping. “Color?”

“Green, green, green.” I pant out quickly and he chuckles. He gives me a few more seconds to come down, tracing gentle patterns into my sides and he kisses me once my breathing slows. I pull away to bite my way down his neck, leaving my own marks on him. “Daddy, need you inside me, please.”

“Are you sure you’re ready for me, princess?”

“Yes! Yes! So ready! Please just fuck me!”

“Okay, let me grab a condom.”

“No!” I shout, grabbing his shoulders. “I’m clean. Please, I want to feel you. Just you.”

“You’re going to be the death of me, you know that?” He says, kissing the tip of my nose. I watch as he pumps himself a few times and lines up with my entrance. He pushes in, just barely, and stays there until I’m begging him to push the rest of the way in.

“Please, Daddy, I want to feel full. I feel so empty.” He sheathes himself in me in one quick motion and I gasp. “Thank you, Daddy,” I whisper onto his lips.

“Fucking hell, Y/N, you’re so goddamn tight.” He’s still above me, and I can see his shoulders shaking in restraint. “You feel like heaven.”

“Please move, please. Let go, I can take it.” I whisper, peering into his eyes and he pulls out a little bit to thrust shallowly. He swallows my moan with his lips, kissing me with the fervor of a man starved. He starts off at a slow pace and despite being sensitive from my previous two orgasms, I need more. I dig my nails into his shoulder. “Please, for the love of God, fuck me. Hard. Please. I can take it. All of it.” He looks at me hard, searching for any hesitation, but his dick is literally inside of me, so there’s no hesitation on my part. I nod up at him and he leans down to kiss me as he starts to set a brutal pace. His hips are slamming against mine and when I shift my hips up to meet his thrusts he hits my G-spot with every thrust. “SHIT!” I shout, the words quickly turning into a loud moan as his thumb comes down to flick at my clit. I’m shaking with arousal, and I can feel his balls slap against my ass with how hard he’s fucking me.

“Come on, pretty girl, I know you’ve got one more in you. Give it to Daddy. I want to feel you cum around my cock.” There are no thoughts in my head anymore, everything in me has zeroed in on the feeling of him literally fucking me into the mattress. “You look so pretty fucked out like this, bet you can’t think of anything but my cock inside of you, huh?” I nod and he laughs, kissing me hard. He leans back just enough to change the angle by shifting my calf onto his shoulder. He thrusts, hard, and I whimper. “You make such pretty sounds when I’m fucking you.” He picks up the pace again, moving his thumb on my clit in tight circles. I let out a broken moan as he hits just the right spot inside of me, and he takes note of it, hitting the same spot repeatedly, thumb keeping its pace on my clit. It’s overwhelming and I know that this orgasm is going to ruin other men for me. No one can do it like him. “Y/N,” his voice is low, “Look at me, baby, I want to watch you fall apart.” I drag my eyes open and look at him with dazed eyes. One particularly hard thrust and a drag of his thumb over my clit and I’m cumming violently, thrashing against him and gripping the bed sheets, my body spasming and I feel him fuck me through it and spill inside of me with a shouted curse before I black out.

I come to and can feel a warm washcloth being dragged between my legs gingerly. I hiss at the contact.

“Oh, thank god, are you okay?” I nod, throat raspy from screaming. “Can I get you anything?” I shake my head no, and the warm washcloth returns, I jump at the sensation. “I know, I have to clean you up though, okay?” He finishes in the next couple of moments and throws the washcloth into the hamper.

“How long was I out?” I say softly.

“Five minutes? Maybe six.” I nod.

“Sorry.”

“Sorry? Y/N, that was the biggest ego boost I’ve had in years.” He chuckles and I let out a weak laugh.

“Help me up?” I whisper, holding my hands out toward him. He obliges, gently grabbing my hands and pulling me into a sitting position. My vision starts to go spotty again. “Oh, Jesus,” I say, starting to slump forwards. His arms wrap around me quickly, holding me against his chest until my vision starts to return to normal. His thumbs are rubbing my back and I wish I could stay in this moment forever. “I’m okay, I think,” I whisper after a minute and try to pull away but he only lets me get a few inches away, eyes worriedly searching my face. “Hotch, I’m fine. I swear. Now let me go so I can go pee.” He lets go of me slowly and when I stand up to walk toward the bathroom, my legs buckle underneath me. “Oh, come on!” I exclaim, but Hotch is right there to catch me. He scoops me up despite my protests and carries me bridal style to the bathroom, setting me down on the toilet. “Thank you,” I whisper, suddenly embarrassed.

“No, don’t do that. I can see you trying to hide, getting embarrassed.”

“Am I that obvious?”

“Yeah, when your guard is down, you’re easy to read.”

“So, uh, do we just pretend this never happened? Go back to the way things were. I assume that’s what you want?” I bury my face in my hands, unable to look at him.

“Go back to the way things were? Y/N, baby, no. I can’t go back. This was not a one-time thing. I’m yours if you’ll have me.” I peek at him from between my fingers.

“Wait, you’re being serious right now?”

“Dead serious.” He gets on his knees in front of me. “I’ve wanted you from the first moment you walked into my office. I just didn’t think you’d reciprocate, until Morgan made a comment two months ago about your body language, and that’s when I had the hunch you felt the same way.”

“So, you’ve known I’ve been pining over you for months and didn’t think to say anything?” My pitch gets higher as the sentence goes on.

“I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“Yes, I’m clearly uncomfortable with you as I’m sitting in front of you, naked,” I say drily and he laughs again.

“Yeah, I know, I’m an idiot.”

“Yes, you are,” I say, smiling, before adding, “But you’re my idiot.” His eyes brighten at that.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. As you said, I’m yours if you’ll have me.”

“Good. Because I’m never letting go of you.” I feel my cheeks grow warm.

“Good, because I don’t want you to.”

[pink3princess]

aaron hotchner x reader hc

tw/cw: sfw AND nsfw, aaron x fem!reader, aaron x afab!reader, reader in their 20's, age gap

an: HES MORE THAN DADDY TO ME…HES LIKE…HES LIKE GRANDPA‼️‼️‼️☝🏼😨😨😭

masterlist

sfw

a hopeless romantic at heart

he knows it's unrealistic to fall for someone so fast, i mean he's a grown man and he has a kid!

but when he meets you, it's just so different

it's like he has a high school crush all over again

i feel like he would generally try to fight his feelings for you, like he's gone through so much, he doesn't know how to start again, especially with someone younger than him

sugar daddy vibes

he loves to spoil you- hands down has the biggest heart and the biggest wallet

ugh he takes you out to fancy dinners and LOVES taking you on vacation all over the place, he spares no expense with you :(((

maybe he regrets not spending enough time with haley and so now he spends as much time with you as he can

pays for your nails; while you are getting them done, he takes himself and Jack out to eat and gets you something to eat for after your appointment :,(

i think he's insecure about your age difference

he worries about how you should be with someone your own age and he’s just keeping you back (jokes on him I luv him and i love old man di-)

he likes to call you in the middle of the night

it's quiet, no one is out, no case to follow up on, no responsibility on his shoulders; it really seems like it's you and him without a care in the world

when you two are laying in bed together, he will be finishing up a report for work while you read

sometimes he asks you to read to him and within like 5 minutes of you reading he's out like a light :(((( he feels so comfortable around you IM-

also vice versa; when he reads to you his voice just soothes you to sleep and he finds it so cute >:(

nsfw

DADDY KINK HELLLOOO‼️‼️‼️ it's literally written on his forehead

size kink

power play/dynamics (idk he likes to be in charge)

dom/sub (we been knew)

[bvckleyydiaz]

have a seat - aaron hotchner

title: have a seat

summary: you convince aaron not to shave his beard just yet.

pairing: aaron hotchner x afab!reader

word count: 901

warning(s): smut (mdni), oral (f receiving), reader praising aaron, and a bit of hairpulling

a/n: you can all blame @montyfandomlove for this. it's their fault.

a/n 2: also, i am extremely out of practice when it comes to writing smut. so please forgive me.

“Honey, I’m thinking about shaving my beard,” Aaron says as he stands in front of the bathroom mirror.

You lean your body forward to look at him through the open bathroom door. “Aaron, I swear to God, you’ll be sleeping on the couch if you shave.”

He pads out of the bathroom with a smile. “Oh, you’re a fan of the beard?”

You nod. “Absolutely. Very much a fan of the beard.” You climb out of bed and wrap your arms around his neck, and his hands find purchase on your hips. “In fact, it makes you look like a sexy lumberjack.”

He chuckles and moves to go back to the bathroom. “Definitely shaving, then. Got it.”

You pull him back to you and plant a soft kiss on his lips. “I’m serious, Aaron. I think you look unbelievably sexy with your beard. Please don’t shave.”

Smirking down at you, he pulls your chest flush with his. “Yeah? What my baby wants, my baby gets.”

“All I thought about while we were away on this case was how much I wanted to take you somewhere private and fuck your brains out,” you whisper, stroking his jaw with you your finger. “I couldn’t stop thinking about how this beard would feel on my skin, between my legs.”

You let out a loud, shrieking laugh when you are suddenly lifted into the air only to be dropped down onto the mattress. “Aaron!” He shifts his body to lie down, his head supported by the pillows. “What are you doing?”

“Sit on my face,” he tells you.

You blink, thinking that you misheard him. “What?”

“I said,” he emphasizes as he pulls you close enough to him that you’re practically sitting on his lap, “sit on my face.”

“Now?” You bite your lip in a mixture of apprehension and anticipation. “We’ve never tried that before.”

“No time like the present.” He grins and smacks your ass lightly. “Get up here, baby.”

You rid yourself of your sleep shorts and your underwear, and you crawl up Aaron’s body to straddle his shoulders. “Hi,” you giggle.

He wraps his arms around your thighs and places a kiss on each of them. “Hi,” he smiles at you. “You ready?”

You nod. He lets you lean forward enough to where your bare pussy is hovering over his face. “Fuck, baby, you’re so pretty. And so wet for me, too.”

“Please, Aaron,” you whimper. “Don’t tease.”

You feel him chuckle against your lips. "Okay, sweetheart. I'll play nice."

Aaron being so close to the most sensitive part of your body is dizzying. His hot breath brushed against the outsides of your wet lips, and you couldn’t help but let out a moan. He hadn’t even done anything to you, and you were already falling apart. You cry out when Aaron tightens his grip around your thighs and pulls you onto his mouth.

“Fuck!” One of your hands reaches out to grab onto the headboard to steady yourself while the other one buries itself into Aaron’s hair. “Fuck, Aaron, you make me feel so good…” 

The praise seems to spur him on as he flicks his tongue against your clit and tracing the tip of his tongue against it. There is nothing timid about what this man was doing; he knows what he’s doing. He knows exactly what to do to make a wet, whimpering mess.

“Aaron, please… Fuck me so good…” The only answer he gives is a firm suck to your clit, so you assume he heard your breathy pleas loud and clear. He pulls you impossibly closer to his mouth. “Baby, you’re going to suffocate if you pull me any closer.”

He leans away from your cunt enough to respond with, “Then, I’ll die a happy man.”

He grips your thighs hard, his fingertips pressing into the meat of them. The thought of Aaron gripping you tight enough to leave marks sends a jolt of pleasure straight to your pussy, and you feel some of your slick drip into Aaron’s mouth. He groans and sucks your clit harshly as a thank you.

“Fuck, Aaron! Shit,” the hand in his hair tightens around the strands, and you buck your hips against his mouth. 

“If you keep this up, I’ll cum,” you laugh, breathy and light. Aaron does not stop at your warning or even slow down at your warning. In fact, he speeds up the flicking of your clit against his tongue, and he even reaches up to tweak your nipples. “Mm! Christ, Aaron… Yeah, do that again.” He does as you ask, this time pulling and twisting them between his fingers. It makes you see stars. “Oh, fuck yes! Aaron, I’m close, I’m close. I’m going to cum, Aaron, fuck…”

With one last firm suck to your clit and twist of your nipples, you came. You came so hard that you thought you were going to pass out. “Fuck…” He gives your clit little kisses and caresses your thighs as you come down from the height of your orgasm. Once you were sure you weren’t going to black out, you climb off of him. Your wetness shines against his lips and chin, soaking his beard.

“We’re definitely doing that again,” you pant.

He presses a wet kiss to your lips, the tang of your cum seeping into your lips. “Oh, absolutely,” he says when he pulls away.

[supercriminalbean]

Just relax.

Aaron Hotchner X GN!Reader (AFAB)

Gender netural reader (They/them pronouns, no gendered petnames, mainly just AFAB due to he enter them, that's all)

Warnings: Minors fuck off DNI. 18 plus. Sex. Cute sex. Fluff. Swearing. Begging. This was just cute and I wanna suck his neck. I will never apologise.

Summary: Kissing and sucking Aaron's beautiful neck while riding him in his office.

Words: 1.4k

A/N: first smut and I went with cute and not much smut so my bad but other piece are not innocent so opps. Um enjoy.

You're not entirely sure how a horrible day has ended up like this. Currently you’re in your boss's office, the man you're in a secret relationship with. But his blinds and door are wide open and anyone could see you sucking on his neck as you grind against his lap. Luckily it's after hours and you're pretty sure you two are the only ones left on the floor. Normally you two would wait until you’re at least inside his car before touching each other, but not today. This week’s case, having been based in DC, meant you didn’t have to travel but you still didn’t have the chance to see Aaron at all. You two created this relationship at first, just for sex to be a causal stress relief but after spending a little too much time together. Feeling enveloped and maybe that's how you two became so good at reading each other.

~~~

You know it had hit him hard, the elements of the case bringing back bad memories for him, let alone just the normal stress of being the team leader of the BAU. You could tell he was becoming stressed and pent up during the end of the case, the way he was carrying his shoulder. The tension in his jaw you couldn't keep your eyes off the way he would clench it, mainly because it would make the muscle in his neck pop and, god do you love that neck muscle of his. Your favourite part of his neck, is the fact of how sensitive it is to touch and how whimpery he gets when you touch it. You know its wrong but that's all you could think about when he was interrogating the unsub. When he was leaning over the unsub, bent down beside him, his face filled with anger and hatred while speaking made his neck pop, and it was making you weak at the knees. When you could finally drag your eyes off his neck, and slowly down his back you couldn’t help but be concerned about all the stress he is holding. Promising yourself that once this case is over, you’re going to take care of him, let him know that it's time to relax, and somehow, that brings you to now.

~~~

It's almost two in the morning, the last team member left just under an hour ago. You have been waiting for a while before you make your way up to Aarons office. Knocking lightly before walking straight in, his door already open. He doesn’t even bother looking up when you enter, already knowing who and why you are there.

“I’m almost done and then we can go” He sighs, his eyes staying fixate on the paper he is writing. 

“You better be finishing soon Aaron” You smile softly, taking in his tired form as you walk over to him. You place a hand gently on his shoulders turning him around just enough for you to climb on to his lap. Resulting in a small huff followed by a soft smile, his arm wrapping your waist helping pull you on him properly so you won't fall off.

“I need to concentrate hunny” He whispers softly, as you rest your head on his chest.

“No, we need to rest” You argue, moving your head to the crook of his neck.

“I know we need to relax but I still have work” Aaron smiles sadly looking down at you in his lap, wishing he could just forget about work tonight.

“No, you need to relax” You mumble against his neck. The vibrations against his neck makes him swallow lightly, taking a breath as he rubs your back.

“Soon” Is all he gets to whisper back before you start kissing his neck. A whimper leaves his lips as you kiss down his neck. Trying to find that spot that you know will make him a mess. You know you have found it when he closes his eyes, groaning softly allowing his shoulder to roll back, leaning into the chair. One of his arms stays wrapped around your waist, his other hand finally drops his pen and makes its way up to your hair. His fungers running through your hair softly as he tilts his head giving you more access. Hearing his soft whimpers while you feel him grow underneath you, has never sounded so hot before. You slowly start moving your hips over him, grinding your core against his growing member. 

~~~

You leave hickeys all over his neck, enjoying the soft whimpers and groans this man is making. Moving your hips over him slowly, enjoying the slow, closeness of tonight's pace, enjoying the way he’s becoming a whimpering mess underneath you. Your hands run over his shoulder, liking the way they have relaxed, still feeling the tension in them knowing you can deal better with that at home, you don't think too much about it.

“You're so good for me baby, relaxing so well aren’t you” You whisper softly, coming to nibble on his ear. Your hand coming up to play with his hair.

“I need you, please” He whimpers, his hand sliding down to play with the hem of your shirt.

“Aw my poor baby, need me so badly don’t you” Smirking softly, pulling away to face him properly.

“I want you to ride me, just like this” Aaron huffs out, breathless, biting his lip looking at you with puppy dog eyes.

“Right here in your office, so bad sir” You giggle softly, placing your lips on his.

“Only for you” He mumbles into the kiss, pulling your top off and throwing it across the room. Shaking your head, laughing softly as you pull yourself off his lap earning a whine in response, his hands trying to keep you there.

“If you want me to ride you, my love, then I need to undress plus someone needs to close the door” Laughing softly as you see his smile return, riddening his own shirt. Quickly you close his office door, before pulling the rest of your clothes off. 

~~~

As soon as you both are naked you make your way back over to him, climbing back on to his lap, taking his cock in your hand lining yourself up with him. Slowly you lower yourself down on him, bothing groaning quietly in pleasure, his arm wraps around you again. Leaning into him again, you hide your face in the crook of his neck, staying still for a minute enjoying the closeness, the way he strokes your hair. In time you start to ride him, moaning faintly kissing Aaron neck as you ride him, listening closely as he groans the sounds just dripping from his lips encouraging you to go faster. It doesn’t take you both long to reach your high, he could feel you clench around him, feeling you slow down as you grow tired. He leans forward, pressing his lips against your neck again.

“It's okay hunny I got it” He whispers sweetly as he sucks on your neck before thrusting up into you, hitting your spot.

“Oh fuck, Aaron” You moan out, leaning into his the arm wrapped around you as you cum hard around him, squeezing him tightly. He can’t help but move faster now, cumming inside you, filling you up nicely. 

~~~

You both sit there for a moment, breathing heavily as you calm down from the highs. Your face is still hiding inside the crook of his neck, breathing in his scent as you play with his hair. He slides out of you slowly, earning a small whimper from you. Both his arms come to wrap around your waist, he rocks you gently as you both calm down.

“Thank you” He mumbles against your forehead, pressing his lips to leave a kiss.

“Don’t thank me, my love, you need to relax” You whisper sleepy. “When we get back to yours, I can give you a massage because you need to de-stress your muscles” 

“Tomorrow, we can do that tomorrow, tonight let's just sleep” Aaron chuckles softly, watching as you struggle to stay awake.

“Fine, but we still need to shower and cuddle first” You argue before you slowly slide off his lap.

“Of course darling” He smiles watching you closely, wondering how he got so lucky with you.

[hornyhornyhimbos]

SMUTMAS LOOKS SO GOOD may we please please have an aaron hotchner fic where the reader is at a BAU christmas party and aaron is eye fucking her all evening and he finally gets her alone in his office and she rides his thighs/they fuck/overall HORNY PLEASE

so so sorry this is just now getting posted, nonnie. i hope you know i didn't forget about you, i have just had an awful december lol. i hope this was worth the wait though!

"Party For Two" ~ A. Hotchner

Summary: When Reader wears quite the scandalous outfit to the BAU's annual Christmas party, Aaron has to put her back in her place.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x AFAB!BAU!Reader

Word Count: 1,752

Content Warning: MINORS DNI (18+ content) unprotected piv sex, creampie, thigh riding, spanking, slight cockwarming at the end, slight nipple play, Aaron sorta degrades Reader but not really, slight d/s dynamics, nicknames (dollface; sir), explicit language, lmk if i missed anything!

Extra Notes: very sorry i didn't post this earlier, i was ✨️insecure✨️ about my writing skills

Originally Written: 12/02/2023 through 12/18/2023

criminal minds masterlist can be found here!

smutmas info can be found here!

To say Aaron's gaze hadn't made the space between your legs tingle all night… well, that would be the biggest lie you ever told.

In Aaron's defense, how was he supposed to act when you showed up to the BAU Christmas party in a skimpy nightgown that barely covered your ass? Hindsight was always twenty-twenty, and he decided after you showed up looking like an absolute goddess in your tiny silk gown that Penelope was never allowed to pick the theme ever again.

On the same note, you couldn't say you weren't utterly obsessed with the way he looked in his own pajamas. Plaid pants hanging low at his waist, gray shirt hugging his muscled arms and abdomen in ways that should definitely have been illegal.

Butterflies floated around in your tummy as he approached, his normally brown eyes nearly black as he continued to hold your gaze. Still, he acted as nonchalantly as possible, setting his cup of punch down on the table and meeting you with a soft tone. "Can I speak to you in my office, Agent Y/L/N?"

You swallowed the hard lump in your throat, giving him a subtle nod. Your thighs involuntarily clenched together as you started to head into his office, though you met him with innocent eyes as he shut the door behind you.

Hands were on skin immediately as your mouths connected, Aaron kissing you like his life depended on it. He'd wanted to get you alone all night long, and as soon as he realized most of the people at the party were too tipsy to notice if the two of you snuck away, he took his chance.

His lips pulled away first, his eyes dark as your gazes met once again. "What were you thinking, dressing like this?" The words were light, like he was genuinely asking and not reprimanding.

Your eyes remained doe-like as you answered, "Just wanted to look all pretty for you."

Aaron had the audacity to scoff, the low noise sending heat straight to your lower stomach. "Lying and disobeying in the same night? Sounds like you're looking for a punishment, dollface."

In one swift motion, he had you leaning over his paper-covered desk, one hand pushing your tiny dress up to reveal your butt. You'd purposely worn the skimpiest panties you owned, the tiny thong covering absolutely nothing.

His hand came down on you, smacking hard and surely leaving the skin a nice, bright pink. Your teeth bit down on your bottom lip, holding in the moan you were already so desperate to release.

"Care to explain what this," he paused, grabbing the thin string of material between your asscheeks, "is all about?" Aaron gave you no time to respond, instead releasing the material and savoring the whine you let out as it popped against your sensitive core.

Another hard slap sounded throughout the tiny room, your skin stinging and your cunt aching. In juxtaposition, his palm soothed over the burning skin, his lips leaving a soft kiss to the dip of your back as he awaited your answer.

"Just wanted to look all pretty for you, sir," you repeated. Your hips shifted involuntarily, searching for some kind of reprieve as well as displaying yourself for Aaron. Your cunt practically dripped around the sorry excuse for underwear you were currently wearing, and you simply couldn't wait for him to take notice.

As if on cue, he was pulling you back up, his mouth smashing into yours for another long, hard kiss. His tongue dipped between your lips while his hand met your ass again, squeezing the skin hard enough to leave bruises under his fingertips.

"Do you think you deserve to cum tonight after what you did?" Aaron asked, his lips barely parting from yours while he spoke.

Eagerly, you nodded. Arousal and want stung between your thighs at his offer, wanting nothing more than to cum all over his cock before the night was through. "Please, sir. Need you to make me cum."

His hands moved to the front of your body, sliding beneath your bra and pinching lightly at your nipples. A soft moan exited your mouth and entered his before he pulled away, a smirk tugging at his lips as you started to turn desperate for him. "Such a pretty little thing when you beg for me." A finger reached up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. "Tell you what, dollface. Beg for me just a little longer and maybe I'll give you my cock. If you do a real good job, I might even let you decide how you get it. Okay?"

You gave him another nod before he was pulling you back in for another hard kiss and dragging your body over to the couch. Your tongues collided as he pressed a thigh between your legs, a desperate whine falling out of you at even the slightest friction.

"You like that?" he teased, flexing his thigh. Another needy whimper slipped between your lips, effectively answering his question. Large hands met your hips and began to help you find friction on his thigh, his clothed leg feeling absolutely heavenly under your barely-clothed core.

Your brows furrowed as he started to work you harder, Aaron clearly reveling at the impatient expression across your face. His smirk grew wider as you humped at him like a lost puppy, Aaron your savior.

"Hey," he cooed, fingers wrapping around your chin and leaving crescent moons there as he pulled your face to look at him. "I'm not hearing any begging."

His words caught you off guard, your body unsuspecting as his hand came down on your asscheek once again. "Aaron, please," you whined, your puffy clit desperate for reprieve.

"Gonna have to try a little harder than that, dollface."

"Please," you begged and brought his hand to your front, your silent way of asking him to rub you, touch you, anything really.

A chuckle tumbled between his pretty pink lips, a sound that made your insides melt. A thumb pressed ever so slightly on your sensitive bud, the touch making you clench around nothing. "Is this what you want? Want me to help you finish?"

Your mouth parted into an open 'o' as he circled your clit once, just enough of a touch to have you keening. Your hips slowed as you settled into his touch, desperate for his fingers to bring you to your climax.

In swift motions, he was lifting your legs and pushing a finger under your sad excuse for underwear, a fingertip prodding at your entrance. "I can't hear you, dollface. Where'd my desperate girl go off to?"

The tip of his digit barely breached your entrance before his name started to tumble from your lips like a prayer. "Aaron, please," you repeated, surely sounding like a broken record while all he did was barely touch you.

Aaron's slick-covered finger came up to your parted lips. He met you with a leveled expression, like he didn't have you acting like a needy slut right inside his work office. "Dollface, can you suck for me? Want you to taste and see how desperate I make you."

His index finger entered your mouth, the taste of your essence making you moan around his thick digit. "Tastes just as pretty as you, huh?" You nodded in response, not yet releasing the digit from your mouth.

Aaron must've decided to take pity on you, helping you guide yourself along his thighs just a few more times as he pulled himself out of his pajama pants. Without giving you any time to adjust, he was pulling your thong to the side and sliding into you, your walls immediately adjusting to his familiar length.

"Shit," you whined as Aaron started to pound up into you, the head of his cock brushing your sweet spot easily. Every ridge and vein of him filled you up like nothing else, no one else ever could.

"Feel good, dollface?" He was teasing you now, asking rhetorical questions he obviously knew the answer to. "You like the way I fill you up?"

A small noise of approval came out of you as his hips slammed upward into yours, the heavy smack of his balls creating the perfect friction against your ass. You were close, oh so close.

When Aaron pulled your gown off and your bra down, meeting one nipple with his thumb and index fingers and meeting the other with his tongue, you were a goner. Your orgasm washed over you as his hands and mouth and dick made you feel absolutely euphoric.

His hands moved back to your hips while his mouth switched breasts. Tight fingers grabbed your love handles for purchase as he fought for his own orgasm, his palms bouncing you up and down on his length.

"Oh, my god," he groaned, pre-cum coating your walls as you rode his cock for all it was worth. His parted lips, his desperate fingertips on your skin, the thatch of hair on his stomach rubbing deliciously against your clit. It was all too much and not enough and it was oh so hot.

Aaron's thrusts became hopeless and hard as his release washed over him, thick spurts of his seed painting your walls. Both your thrusts slowed as you continued to ride out your highs, hands and mouths desperate to touch any part of the other person you could.

You crashed on top of him, trying and failing miserably to catch your breath. Delicate fingers brushed over your hair, Aaron's chest rising and falling beneath you.

"Did I do a good enough job?" you kidded, eyes already half-lidded. A silent prayer went up that no one would walk in and find you like this if you did fall asleep.

A soft chuckle escaped his lips, a small peck meeting your uncovered shoulder. "You really wanna go for round two after we both just nearly passed out?"

Teeth met his neck, leaving a gentle nip. "Can't help it. You make me insatiable."

Another string of deep laughs fell from him, his eyes meeting yours through dark lashes. "I suppose I did make a promise. How do you want me then?"

"Just want to lay here with you inside me. Is that okay?" you answered, clearly content.

In one swift motion, he was flipping you over onto your side, sliding into you from behind and cupping a large arm around your much smaller frame. "For you? Anything works for me, dollface."

-> taglist: @reidsbookclub @broken-stardust @dungeons-are-too-cold @theghouligan @sadgirlml

[tlou-reid]

masterlist

❧ criminal minds

spencer reid

fics

visitors list: when spencer goes to prison, his visitor's list seems to be missing a name

nightmares: spencer has a nightmare, but his biggest fear is hurting you

you found me: spencer is the one to reach you after being shot by an unsub

cardigan: spencer is finally home and all fem!reader wants is to be close with him (smut)

all of you: There is not a single part of you Spencer doesn't want to worship. Fat!reader x Spencer

blurbs/requests/thoughts

cockwarming with soft!clingy!Spencer (smut)

spencer info-dumping when nonbinary!reader comes out to him

aftercare with spencer (smut)

pretty new bau agent makes spencer cum in his pants (smut)

spencer doesn't know what do after your first fight

spencer can't stand his son calling him his first name

luke alvez

aaron hotchner

fics

baked goodies: aaron is smitten for his new graduate student neighbor as soon as he meets her (smut) part 2 part 3

finishing gifts: after a few days of ignoring him, aaron makes an effort to get your behavior to return to normal (smut)

blurbs/requests/thoughts

aaron hotchner is a giver. i do not take criticism. (smut)

going undercover with hotch

aaron taking care of sick!bau!reader

emily prentiss

fics

blurbs/requests/thoughts

nonbinary AFAB, the reader’s first time with anyone due to body/gender insecurities (not full on smut, but heated)

jennifer jareau

❧ the last of us

joel miller

ellie williams

fics

the show must go on (series): fem!musican!reader x ellie, based on stick season by noah kahan

prologue: the view between villages

abby anderson

fics

get her back!: abby was so in love with her roommate Nora's girlfriend, she can only control herself so much when you come to get your things after a fight

blurbs/requests/thoughts

❧ stranger things

i am no longer writing for stranger things

steve harrington

fics

white lace: as you expected (and prepared for), date night with steve turns into your first time with him (smut)

❧ outer banks

jj maybank

fics

scaredy cat: jj has a lot of fears, kooks make a lot of them come to surface

obx grass: jj surprises you with more than just weed

rafe cameron

fics

blurbs/requests/thoughts

being rafe's arm candy (smut)

❧ event masterlists

swiftmas 2023

[sundrop-writes]

Opening up requests for Criminal Minds for MLTs, Reactions, and Headcanons.

Requests are CLOSED as of March 17th, 2024. I am simply keeping this post up in case I have use for it in the future.

I will mainly be writing for Spencer Reid, Derek Morgan, Elle Greenaway, Jennifer Jareau, and Emily Prentiss. And I may include Will Lamontagne, depending on the context. And for group prompts, I may add Aaron Hotchner, Penelope Garcia, and maybe (platonically) Jason Gideon.

Please read everything on this post before sending in a request.

To clarify:

MLTS - 'Most Likely To's aka a short description explaining which character of the group (or two, or three characters) would be 'most likely' to do something or enjoy something. This could be exploring their potential enjoyment of a kink or how they would behave on a date, how they would be as a romantic partner. It can be anything you want, get creative. (Ex: mostly likely to seek revenge if you were harmed by an UnSub, mostly likely to have a breeding kink, most likely to enjoy PDA, most likely to want kids, etc.)

Reactions - 'how would they react to...' aka a short description explaining how the characters (two or three, you can choose) would react to a certain situation. (If you want this format done with the whole group at once, it will likely be much shorter.) (Ex: how would they react to seeing you in lingerie for the first time, how would they react to seeing you punch someone, how would they react if someone insulted you, etc.)

Headcanons - a collection of bullet points that creates a shorter, quicker, more efficient style of fic by taking the reader through a tour of ideas, the character's reactions and thoughts in a shorter format. (These are like full fics, but can usually be done faster.) (Ex: headcanons for friends to lovers with Emily, headcanons for JJ being possessive of the reader, headcanons for the group finding out that the reader has been hurt, etc.)

General Rules and Guidelines for Requesting:

Requests should be sent to the ask box on this blog. I don't accept requests in DMs because it is too disorganized and difficult to keep track of them. Finished fics may be posted as separate posts, or they may be posted as a response to the ask.

Every single one of my fics includes a reader character. I don't do character x character fics. If you are making a request, I will assume that you want to read character x reader fics, and if you don't specify the gender of the reader character, I am most likely to write the reader character as a cis female. Also, I am very likely to include the term Y/N in my fics. (If you think that's too cringe, run along. I grew up in a time where Y/N was sacred and cringe didn't exist.)

Speaking of which - in your request, please specify if the reader character is female, male, or gender neutral. When I write gender neutral fics, I do not describe the reader’s genitals or gender presentation in any way, so I don’t write ‘GN AFAB reader’ fics. If you want the reader to be described as having a vagina, that would be a fem reader in my fics.

Also typically, I don’t describe the reader character as having specific physical traits. I like my reader character to be as broad as possible to appeal to as many people as possible. I don’t write a character that has a specific race, height, hair color, etc. but one exception I have to this rule is that I love writing fat/plus sized readers in my fics. I love spreading love for fat bodies, especially through fics - I love making people feel good about their fatness through the gaze of a fictional character. So definitely feel free to send in requests for a plus sized reader character, as it’s one of my favorite things to write. 

For reference, I will also write about a reader character with autism or chronic illness (someone with chronic pain or a fainting disorder, or someone who uses a cane or a wheelchair), because these are groups that I am a part of and I know that they are not portrayed in fiction often enough. If you have any questions about these aspects, please let me know. 

Also, if you do want to include in the request that the reader has certain non-physical traits, that's okay. Like describing the reader being nerdy, outgoing, artsy, being a single mother or a parent, etc. in your request - then I am likely to include those in the fic. Those kind of traits help to aid in the plot and differentiate the reader from my other fics.

I will accept requests for poly ships. (Character x Reader x Character.) I am a huge fan of requests like this, and for Criminal Minds specicially, I am very open to writing many different poly ships - like Elle x Reader x Spencer, JJ x Reader x Emily, Will x Reader x JJ. Maybe other combinations, I’m not sure. I will field them as they are suggested. I won't do more than three characters in a poly ship for this fandom, including the reader character. (But I might do some kind of headcanons or something for the entire group being a polycule just because it's fun.)

I will write smut, angst, or fluff, but I mostly prefer writing smut or angst. When requesting smut (or smutty themed things), please specify if you want the characters to be dominant or submissive. In your request, write ‘sub!reader’ or ‘dom!reader’, something to denote the dynamics to let me know what you want it to be. I am a big fan of writing submissive men, so I won’t shy away from things like that - but I will write any dynamic as long as it’s properly communicated to me. 

I will write for a lot of dark topics and different kinks. In general, the list of things that I won’t write is a lot shorter than the list of things that I will. So if you’re wondering if I’m okay with a request or not, just ask. 

For reference, my big ‘nos’ are: virgin!reader fics, or fics where the reader is sexually inexperienced or portrayed as innocent. I am okay with doing a ‘faux’ innocent reader (someone who is only pretending to be innocent), and I am also okay with writing about a canon character being a virgin and having their first sexual experience with the reader. (That’s something I love writing about, actually.) I am okay with writing about sexual coercion, sexual blackmail, or dubcon. (Or even noncon or cnc, under certain circumstances.) 

Also, I don’t write fics about miscarriages, safeword use, or extreme choking kink. And while I don’t write about miscarriage, I am okay with writing about pregnancy - it’s something I enjoy writing about, actually. I also enjoy writing parenting fics and family fics with children.

[criminalskies]

Rome I love your work and I’m super sorry people are being rude to you, I was wondering if you would do an Aaron hotch X reader where reader comes out as nonbinary and Aaron maybe comforting them while on their period and having dysphoria (if your comfortable with that) thanks! ❤️❤️❤️ -anon

I am so so so so so so so honoured to have written this for you anon. I am so sorry for the wait, I can only hope after all this time I’ve done your request some justice.

Pairing: Aaron hotchner x afab!nonbinary!reader. 

Word count: 7.7k

Warnings & A/N: Mentions of gross bathroom stalls. Mentions of menstrual blood. People address reader with she/her pronouns before they come out. Mentions of injected drugs and other canon-typical grossness. Mentions of assault/violence/murder and druggings at nightclubs. Inadequately proofread. That should be all! Please enjoy <;3 

No one on the team could have expected this, for a simple opportunistic killer in the nightclub scene of New Orleans could have stretched on for five days and left the BAU without a lead to follow. Everyone was already irritable enough just given the sweaty, humid air that had blanketed around you all the moment you stepped off the jet. Every team member is now on edge, some five days later, having canvassed every club, hostel and backpacking destination in the city on foot. 

For Prentiss, Morgan, Reid and Hotch, this has sent them into profiling overdrive. They’re throwing out complicated theory after complicated theory trying to think so far outside the box they’re almost losing sight of the facts. Annoyingly, it seems like you just need to wait for more bodies to drop, hoping the killer will slip up, that they’ll do something of any meaning. 

JJ, Rossi and yourself appear to be the only ones willing to accept the fact that this unsub is actually managing to evade all your efforts, with probably no knowledge you’re even looking for them. 

It’s 1:15 in the morning now, if the unsub is at the clubs again, you’ll have a body showing up by 7am. You’ve already tried bargaining with Hotch for the team to just get some rest and hope some evidence arises, but he won’t quit. You’re exhausted. Your back aches, there’s a dull pain behind your temples, pulling at your last resolve as you bury your head in your hands, unable to listen to Reid presenting yet another theory that this unsub is using drugs that are completely undetectable to take down their victims. 

“Spencer! Stop it. There’s no sign of needle pricks, tox screens showed NO sign of any drugs remaining in the victim’s systems despite their time of death being as little as four hours prior to the bodies being found. The only thing in their systems was alcohol! That’s it.” You snap, tired of hearing him circle around the same idea for over an hour now, knowing his specialties are in physics and engineering. Not human physiology and pharmacokinetics. Because those are your background. 

“Actually, the bodies have all been found at least four hours and thirty minutes later, so-” The boy genius leans forward, gesticulating with his hands, clearly preparing to lecture you in your own area of expertise and that does it. Without a word you push yourself up out of your seat, leaning over the desk to make sure he can see how little patience you have left for him constantly trying to correct you. 

“Reid. Correct me based off of something you read in the textbook I wrote one more goddamn time and I will see how far that giant brain of yours really is from your skull.” You point an accusatory finger at him as in the corner of your eye, Hotch and Morgan each rise from their seats, moving towards you, clearly both at least a little intimidated by the set of your brows. You mean business. 

“Woah, woah, woah. Mama. Let’s just calm dow-” Morgan grabs your wrist pointing at Reid and brings it down to your side where you tear it from his grasp. 

“Would you stop calling me mama?! And do not tell me to calm down.” You try to level Derek with another glare that could burn holes in his head if you tried any harder. A hand lands on your shoulder, gentle, from behind you. Pulling you back ever so softly away from the table. You follow the direction of the hand you recognise as Hotch’s, letting him direct you out of the room, where you’re met with the alarmed faces of the local police department’s entire night crew. They all return to their work, and you’re reminded of how sternly your face is still set. You make an effort to relax your jaw as Hotch leads you into an empty office without a word, closing the door. You stand still, eyes on the ground, expecting to be yelled at as you realize how exhausted you are, every muscle in your body providing almost no resistance to the force that wants you to lay down on the linoleum floor and cry yourself to sleep. 

“Are you okay?” is all Hotch can string together to ask you right now, you’re clearly very volatile and on edge. He just can’t figure out why. His mind is reeling with a thousand scenarios of you having been drugged or assaulted in some way in a nightclub just like these, and the thought makes his heart sink. 

You finally look at him, noting the genuine concern and a hint of confusion behind his dark eyes. His thumb skating across his knuckles at his side seems to confirm your theory that he’s worried about you, not upset. The tenderness of his voice asking you the question is enough to make your chin wobble, your eyes welling up seemingly out of nowhere as you note that you definitely are not okay. You just don’t know why.

“I’m, I don’t know, Hotch, I’m so tired, I feel like gravity is working against me, my back hurts, my head is throbbing and my-” That’s when it hits you, your stomach has been churning for hours, a thrilling mix of starvation and nausea despite you eating the same order of food that’s sustained you a thousand times before. Oh. Oh. Your period. God. This is so embarrassing, you’ve just threatened two of your coworkers for being even more dedicated than yourself at solving this case, and you’ve completely made a fool of yourself now, crying in front of your boss like a victim of some terrible thing. 

“Your..?” Hotch offers, trying to get you to finish your statement. 

“I, um. I think I know what’s wrong. I just, I just need like fifteen minutes to go… wash my face and get some air. I’ll be okay. Don’t worry, Hotch.” You wipe your tears with your sleeve and try to offer him a reassuring smile, but his face is nothing short of perplexed. You’ve gone from screaming to crying to comforting him in under four minutes without any prompting at all. He decides that he’s just going to have to keep you by his side for the rest of this case, to make sure you really are just overworked, and that this isn’t something more personal. 

“Alright, Y/N. I’ll head back to the briefing room, please, take your time. I think Reid’s going to want to apologize in no fewer than a thousand words. Morgan will be okay, but. Just, don’t come back until you’re ready… If you need the night off-” 

“No, Hotch, really, I don’t. I just need a moment. It’s okay.” You don’t want to be that weak, someone who gets their period and is suddenly unable to help do your job, when there are people being killed, slaughtered, and you can’t find their killer because you’ve got some cramping? No. 

You can see Hotch doesn’t really seem one hundred percent convinced you’re fine after your sudden outburst, but it’s late and he probably doesn’t have the energy to fight you on this. At this point, he just hopes you haven’t been freaky fridayed with some much less tolerant individual, you really weren’t acting yourself tonight.

“I’ll be right outside if you need… anything.” He gives a wave of his hand on ‘anything’, trying to really drive home the notion he’s here for you in whatever circumstances you’ve found yourself in. 

“Actually, do you think you could send Emily in here for a second?” You realized your go-bag is at the hotel and you have exactly nothing to help you with the imminent bleeding. You subconsciously give Hotch the biggest, most watery puppy dog eyes he’s ever seen, and his heart melts. Of course, of course he’ll get her for you.

“Emily? No problem. I’ll grab her now.” He offers you a small smile, only sparing a moment’s thought as he walks out the door as to why you need her help, not his. He decides once again that you’re more than capable of knowing what you need. He’s offered his help, that’s all he can do. 

When the door clicks shut behind him, leaving you alone for the first time all day, your shoulders fall. You shift from one foot to the other feeling your back yelling at you to just lay down. You hate this part. It’s the worst part of all. The anticipation, your monthly reminder of who you are forced to be, looming right in front of you. When you can feel your grasp on your emotions slip away just a little bit and those little voices in your head gain a little too much power. The thoughts of how your body doesn’t look anything close to who you feel you are. Your chest is even more prominent in your life, aching each time you move too quickly, or worse, when you put on the kevlar vest, and your already tender chest becomes a constant reminder of how people see you. As a woman. Your stomach bloats no matter what you eat, and you feel even curvier than normal, wanting nothing more than to put on your baggiest clothes and crawl into a dark bed and just sleep. 

You can deal with the usual levels of dysphoria well enough, you’re known as just not being particularly effeminate. You wear looser clothes and the tiniest bit of makeup, and you feel like yourself. Each time Derek treats you like you’re not made of glass, smacking a hand into your arm like he would with a guy friend. Each time rossi invites you to taste his new whiskey with himself and Hotch, knowing you’re not as much of a wine person like Penelope and Emily. Whenever Spencer is confident and open enough to freely be himself with you, knowing how nervous and closed off he tends to get with women. In those moments, you don’t need any labels, you don’t need to feel like you’re some kind of imposter, or in the wrong body, it doesn’t matter. You’re just, you. 

But every month or so, nature sends you the most blinding reminder of who you are, of what you were made for. 

A knock on the door brings your head back out of the clouds, as Emily gently pushes the door open. 

“Hi, Em. How’s spencer? And Derek?” you ask, cringing at how you sound like the one who just got yelled at for trying to do your job. Like you’re owed an apology. 

“They’ll live. They really do need to learn to give you a bit more space. I think everyone’s tired, I can’t blame you for snapping.” You love Emily’s honesty. Knowing she’d only ever sugarcoat it for you if you really needed it. “Hotch said you needed me?”

“Yeah, god. I just had to ask if you have any tampons, a pad or anything?” You try not to sound so embarrassed. You know this is a perfectly normal biological function. It just feels like a cruel touch of fate to always drag you back to an identity that never fit you. 

“Sure do. Here, I’ll get it from my bag, it’s on the way to the bathrooms.” Emily opens the door for you to walk with her back through the room the team’s set up in. You feel too many eyes following you as you enter the room. You keep your head down, trying not to have to look at any of the prying eyes or leveling stares you’d find looking back at you. Emily passes you the plastic package from her bag without a word, and you pocket it, padding down the hall to the bathrooms where you start taking deep breaths.

 Looking at your face in the mirror, you can’t stand the sight. You put makeup on this morning, in some attempt to keep up a facade with the team, you were overcompensating for a tackle you’d made yesterday, you’d seen the look on Rossi’s and Morgan’s faces when you took down a runner during canvassing. Their eyebrows were raised as Morgan put his hands in the air, signaling his surrender. Rossi made some halfhearted comment in the SUV about your true calling being in the NFL.So here you are, playing a part. It’s really just some mascara and blush, but it feels like a thick mask over your face as your breathing comes more and more ragged. It’s 2am and your makeup is smudged anyway, the stray mascara making your eyes look darker and even more exhausted than you really are. 

You groan, turning the water on in the sink as you start scrubbing the masquerade off of your face. If you’re already going to be hot and temperamental, you should at least be able to freely rub your eyes without worrying about your precious mascara smudging. 

You finally manage to clean the black stains from your face when the cramping starts. You feel a hundred twisting knots inside of your uterus begin pulling you to curl into a ball. You put the toilet lid down, sitting down on it with a groan as you let the tears slip, bringing your shoes onto the rim so you can bury your face in your knees. The waves of pain start to come closer and closer together, each spike in your abdomen joining together until it feels like a mass of barbed wire has lodged itself inside of you. 

You’re sure you’re reaching the worst of it when you start hearing whimpers escape your mouth at the stabbing sensations. You’re freely crying now, partly due to the pain and partly due to the embarrassment of this whole situation. How desperately you don’t want this to be happening, this isn’t you. This isn’t your body. This isn’t right. Your shoulders are shaking now with the momentum of your crying. 

You barely have time to lift your head up when a hand against the door cautiously opens it, large strides through the small staff bathroom before a tall figure crosses the open doorway of your stall. You almost miss them, your tears clouding your vision as the figure pivots, taking a step back into the doorway. 

“Y/N?” You’ve never heard Hotch’s voice so delicate, so laced with concern as the figure shrinks in front of you. You rub at your eyes, trying to clear the pooling tears so you can see him better. He’s crouched down to your eye level, his thumbs moving over his knuckles as his jaw clenches and unclenches, his eyes scanning your entire body for any signs of injury. “What’s the matter?” His hands fall around your shins where your feet rest on the lid. His thumbs begin rubbing over your legs so carefully you feel like you could just melt into his touch. Warm hands reminding you of where you are, of who you are. 

“It’s s-stupid, Hotch.” You sputter out, a cry tearing through you as your eyes squeeze shut, another wave of pain in your stomach clawing at your insides. 

“I don’t care if this is because a tellytubby died, it isn’t stupid to me if it upsets you.” The genuine care in his voice, the pools of concern in his eyes drawing you in, you don’t know what did it, but the next thing you know you’re pulling him up by his shoulders towards you. 

Your boss finds himself kneeling either side of a toilet, in a unisex police station bathroom. A puddle of unknown origin soaking into the knees off his $300 slacks, his arms wrapping around you while your hands find purchase on his dress shirt and you bury your forehead in the crook of his neck. He’s shocked to find that he couldn’t care less about the surroundings, his hand finding the back of your head to hold you close to his aching heart. He’s desperate to know what’s happened to you, but he will kneel here until his knees lock if it means you’ll tell him when you’re comfortable. If it means you’ll stop crying. He feels a part of him physically ache every time a cry escapes your lips.

“It’s gonna be okay, Y/N. You have my help, through whatever this is.” You tug at his shirt harder, a shaky breath escaping you as his hand rubbing up and down your back soothes your mind. You don’t know why Hotch has such a comforting effect on you, but his presence has always been so calming to you. Even now, you’re hysterically crying in a bathroom and he’s the only thing able to draw you out of your own mind, making you able to see past the pain. 

Your breaths start to come easier with each swipe of his hand up and down your spine. You let go of his shirt, smoothing it with your palms and he pulls back to look at you, finally seeing the pink paper package rustling in your hand. Oh. The penny finally drops, and he can understand why you were so volatile earlier. What he doesn’t yet understand is what’s changed, why are you so upset now? He resigns to the fact that he really can’t judge how you’re feeling, having never felt it himself. He refuses to draw a line in the sand as to what kind of response is appropriate for the level of pain you’re in. His hand keeps rubbing at your back, even as you sniffle and he pats at his breast pocket, finding there’s no handkerchief there because he discarded his jacket hours ago. He instead uses his free hand to tear off some toilet paper from the dispenser, offering it to you as a tissue. 

You take it rather bashfully, wiping at your eyes and nose as you look down at the floor. This situation is so embarrassing, and the waves of pain are still making you well up. 

“Hotch?” You keep your eyes glued to your shoes, almost digging into the flesh of his stomach where he still leans in close to you, right where you had held him. 

“Yes.” He doesn’t skip a beat before responding. 

“D-do you think you could take me back to the hotel?” Your chin wobbles as you feel just ridiculous asking, but another bolt of pain through your insides reminds you why you had to. 

“Of course. I’ll just go pack up my things, did you just have your coat and your satchel with you today?” You nod, unable to respond. “Okay, I’ll be back in five minutes, just, hang tight.” He untangles himself from you, letting out a tiny groan as he stands up, straightening his soaked knees under him and closing the stall door for you this time, striding out of the bathroom. 

You make quick work of putting the pad in your underwear, wincing through the pain of standing up and maneuvering your pants off and back on, but once you’re seated back on the closed lid of the toilet, you can breathe easier, still teary eyed from the pain but hopeful that you’ll soon be able to get some rest. Hopefully the exhaustion you can feel sinking into your bones will outweigh the pain and allow you some rest. You’ll have to buy more pads, though, the one won’t last you long. You know how heavy the flow is on the first few days, you’ll need more supplies to even make it through the night. 

God, and now your male boss is driving you home. You’re going to have to ask him to let you out at a convenience store so you can grab some. Hopefully he doesn’t ask too many unnecessary questions, you guess that’s one reason Hotch will be the perfect companion for this. He won’t try to talk just to fill the stretches of silence, badgering you with questions about work or about the nitty gritty details of your apparent breakdown. You cannot even imagine having to have this conversation with Spencer or Derek, even Penelope tonight. As much as you love them all, they would either ask a hundred senseless questions, or try to make some jokes about periods to lift your mood. This isn’t really something you want to be reminded of. 

Not that that’s their fault, it’s really yours for not telling them the truth about what you’ve been feeling for a long time. You’ve been sure of who you are for a while now, and you just haven’t been able to find the words to spit it out. You’re sure it’s been less than a perfect secret, after all, a team of highly skilled behavioral analysts from a range of backgrounds and training styles ought to be able to piece it together, even a little, right?

You’re pulled out of your thoughts when the external door opens with a creak, a light knock on the bathroom stall as you see a familiar pair of oxfords plant themselves on the opposite side of the stall. You pull the door open, standing with a wince, trying to stand as humanly as possible, but you can’t quite straighten your back without tearing up again. You actually see the moment Hotch’s expression falls, any morsel of hope he had that you’d no longer be in pain melting away before his eyes as he places an arm across your shoulders, helping you walk beside him slowly back into the precinct. You once again expect to face your entire team but your brows draw together seeing that they’ve vanished already. 

“They were pretty excited to get a few hours sleep when I said we’re calling it a night. I  think they’ll be very grateful to you for changing my mind.” You turn to look at him as he speaks, only now taking notice of how close your face is to his own. From this distance, your tearful eyes are able to see the hint of hazel in his as they search your face. 

“I’m glad this is helping someone, I guess.” You say, still regretting the fact that you’re slowing down the investigation of a serial killer over a little cramping. But as you two start slowly walking out of the precinct, ignoring the sideways glances from all the deputies on the night shift, you’re hit with more waves of sharp, twisting pain and you let it go. 

Hotch’s hands keep reaching out to catch you as you insist on heaving yourself into the SUV alone. You try to ignore the hot feeling that spreads over your skin each time his hands move to guide you. He closes the door, careful to make sure your legs are safely tucked inside the car before rounding the hood to the driver’s seat. 

Aaron wastes no time getting the car in motion towards the hotel, eyes on the road only flicking to you each time you shift in your seat or let out a quief huff of air as the pain simmers in your stomach. 

“Hotch?” You hate how small your voice sounds tonight. Hotch feels it slicing right through his sternum each time your voice cracks with the pain. 

“Yes?” 

“Do you think we could just make a stop at a gas station or convenience store? Just anything that’s on the way.” Hotch throws the blinker on immediately, preparing to turn left. With your head down you hadn’t seen the glowing sign of the 24 hour service station you were about to pass right by. 

“Of course.” The car is in park in no time, Hotch leaving the keys in the ignition as he undoes his seatbelt. “What can I get for you?” He asks, grabbing his phone and his wallet. 

“No. Oh, no, I can go in. It’s fine.” “Y/N, I found you sobbing in a filthy police station bathroom less than an hour ago. I don’t really fancy sending you into a seven eleven at 2:30 in the morning alone just to see what’ll happen. So either we both go, or you can sit here in the nice cool air conditioning and relax, and I’ll get you what you need.” You sigh, realizing you do feel much less like crying now you’re cooled down, out of the sticky, humid air. 

“I need some tampons and ibuprofen, please.” You avert your eyes, trying to ignore the creeping feeling that you’d very much like to crawl into a hole and wither away rather than to ask your very kindhearted boss to go buy your period supplies. 

“Perfect. I won’t be a moment. Lock the doors if anyone comes within thirty feet of you.” He slides out of his seat and strides into the service station. 

His senses are greeted with the ice cold, dry air, and the faint smell of hotdogs as he grabs a basket, making his way to the back corner of the store where the freezers are. He grabs a pint of cookie dough ice cream, and some mint choc chip. He’s seen you accept the offering of both of those at Derek’s game nights before. He grabs a bottle of blue electrolyte water, having quite honestly no clue how that’ll help your period symptoms, but at least you’ll stay well hydrated. Especially if you keep crying, god, he can’t stand the dragging feeling of his chest thinking about how much pain you’re in to cry that much. 

He throws in a bag of chips here and some m&ms there as he makes his way to the health products. He finds some fast-acting ibuprofen and chooses that without a moment’s thought for the price. He’d give anything to make you feel better faster right about now. He stops in front of the sanitary products, and he looks for the tampons.

 His eyes are reading a million miles a minute as he mutters to himself “Light, ultra light, regular, overnight, sport, active, everyday, heavy, ultra max… shit.” Why would there be different tampons for night time?? Is field work considered ‘sport’? It’s definitely active, but how different can that be to everyday? His mind casts back to Haley asking him to pick up the orange pearl ones. Okay, orange is regular. But what if your periods aren’t regular? Is it regular to be so bad you’re crying in a police station bathroom? You can’t even stand up straight, that definitely doesn’t seem regular. But there’s still ‘everyday’ and ‘overnight’? Don’t the two of those alone cover all times of day? Why are there times, weights and activities? This can’t be a build-your-own type situation… right?

 His hand drops to the outside of his pants pocket, feeling the weight of his phone there as he looks out the window to the SUV. You look like you might be asleep. Oh god. He can’t wake you if you’re finally feeling calm enough to sleep. Or, no. Maybe you’re crying. It’s hard to see, but either way he doesn’t want to disturb you further by prodding you with questions. The overnight employee is stocking the shelves with baby powder behind him, but he doubts the surly man with a braided beard is going to be of much help here. Crap. He’s taking too long. All you want is to go to sleep and he’s agonizing over sticks of cotton that frankly all look the same to him, but he’s sure it’d be a world of hurt if he handed you some ultralight tampons and you’re more of an ultramax type girl. Aaron. Just choose. Just make a choice. Come on. 

He stares at the boxes before him a moment longer before reaching out a hand to drag it across the shelf, dropping an ultralight, regular, heavy, ultramax, sport and overnight into the basket. He sends his curses to the all-boys boarding school he was in throughout most of puberty, having missed many a talk on the monthly goings-on of someone with a uterus. He feels stupid, really, at how quickly his IQ was slashed to a single digit when he was given such a simple task. He’s a father, after all. He’s witnessed every stage of the human life cycle. He knows how reproduction works, he just didn’t anticipate that there are more categories of menstrual bleeding than there are of hurricanes. 

He drops a few extra chocolate bars into the bag at the register, ignoring the strange look from the cashier as they scan his six boxes of tampons with a laugh, noticing he has just about every period supply under the sun. 

“Y’know, you’re a stronger man than me, I always just avoid my lady that time of the month. They call it shark week for a reason, champ.” He mutters, manually entering the code on one of the ice cream tubs that wouldn’t scan. Hotch feels his face shift into what you call his ‘cyclops glare’, telling him he reminds you of the x-men character that can turn men to sludge with just one withering look. He makes no attempt to hide his sour face when the cashier looks up at him, giving him his total. Aaron pays and collects his bags in his hands before turning to leave with one last look in the man’s direction. 

“Funny. Sharks rather like eating invertebrates.” He barks over his shoulder towards the counter. 

“Invertey-what?” Hotch smiles as he walks towards the door. 

“Invertebrates. Spineless creatures.” He says, watching the glass doors part as he strides towards the car. 

Your head lifts from the cool glass window at the sound of the car door closing, Hotch rifling through three grocery bags in his lap. He finds the gatorade, ibuprofen and a kitkat bar, handing you the items before dropping the rest onto the floor behind his seat. 

You try to bite down another bout of tears at the sweetness of the action, gulping down some ibuprofen with the cool liquid soothing your throat, chilling you from the inside out. You wear a shy smile as you unwrap the chocolate bar, offering Hotch a row for his troubles. 

“No, thank you.” He waves a hand for his troubles but you refuse to take the piece back, holding it out to him until he relents, taking it from your hand gently. You smile wide as you both share the chocolate bar on the short ride back to the hotel. 

Once you two arrive, he insists on carrying all the bags for you, and now that you’re feeling even the tiniest bit more human and less like a pincushion, you feel the exhaustion radiating through you. The magnetic pull of the concrete ground on all your bones is almost irresistible at this point, but you know if you walk just a little further to your room, you can collapse in a soft, cushioned, non-concrete bed. With your head lulling towards the ground, Hotch walking just a step in front of you, your eyes land on the bags in his hands. You notice one bag is about to tear a hole, overstuffed with the four, five, SIX boxes inside all trying to poke through. Another bag looks rather colorful, chips, chocolates and your favorite drink inside. The third bag is covered in condensation. It’s clear Hotch has gone very far overboard on your supply requests, or, he’s a diabetic at risk of a blood sugar crash. 

“Hotch, did you need some groceries back there?” You ask innocently, hoping he hasn’t blown $70 of his hard earned money on trying to get you to stop crying. 

“Um, no. I. Well, I uh, didn’t really know what you might need at the hotel so I just got some of everything. I’m sure Prentiss and Morgan would help you finish off anything you don’t eat.” He’s stopped dead in his tracks, looking rather embarrassed as you rush to assure him he did nothing wrong.

“Thank you, Hotchner. I’m actually kind of dying to pig out and have a picnic on my hotel bed tonight. But, you’ll have to let me repay you for it all. Please.” You try this time to muster up all of the tears you have left, pouting to make your eyes look all puppy-like, hoping he’ll cave and let you get away with anything.

“I can allow no such thing. I feel bad. As your boss I should’ve known that working a nineteen hour day is just unreasonable. I feel kind of like it might be a human rights violation to deny a menstruating woman her sleep.” He tries for a self-deprecating joke, but the last four words hit you like a punch in the gut. He must see your mouth fall into a hard line because he steps closer to you. “Hey, are you okay?” His hand reaches out towards your arm, holding both of your briefcases in mid air, just hovering there in case you need him. Instinct. 

“Yeah, I’m fine, just. Well if you aren’t going to let me pay you back, would you at least join me for the picnic in bed?” A breath of relief leaves him as he starts to smile at you.

“Sure. I’d Love to.” Damnit. He instantly regrets throwing the L word at you, you’re his employee, he is being nothing short of unprofessional right now. But he just can’t help but want to reassure you when you’re like this. He’s never seen you cry until today, and he has seen you take a four inch blade to the shoulder before in the field. You’re one seriously tough cookie, which is why he’s so worried having seen you break down earlier. 

You both start walking again, you take your room key from your satchel as Hotch holds it out for you. Entering the room, you’re suddenly ashamed to see you left yesterday’s clothes scattered at the foot of the bed. You shuffle in to scoop them up, shoving them into your go-bag as Hotch unloads the ice cream into the minibar. The pain in your abdomen making itself very known as you stand back up and move to pull some clean sweatpants out of your bag, before slipping into the bathroom to change out of your work pants.

 “Just one second.”, a nod from Hotch and you close the door. Flicking on the light and fan in the bathroom, you turn to the vanity. Your glazed, bloodshot eyes stare back at you. You can’t help but notice how miserable the stranger in the mirror looks. You try to divert your attention away from the features you most dislike as you slide off your work pants, not wasting a second before pulling the sweatpants up your legs, tugging harder as they stretch to accommodate your thighs and hips. You try to bite down the resentment for how tightly they hug your curves, every inch of flesh there is a reminder of who you are. Of who you’re sick of pretending to be. You drop your face into your hands, willing yourself not to be caught crying in yet another bathroom by your boss. 

You flick the light off, opening the door to greet Aaron who’s sitting on the bed. A tray from the kitchenette now filled with bags of all your favorite snacks, and a small mountain of tampon boxes stacked next to your go-bag on the chair in the corner. You see his face fall from relaxed into profiler mode in the blink of an eye. 

“What’s wrong?” He sits up straighter, making sure there’s room for you to come fall onto the other side of the bed. You oblige, tumbling onto the mattress with a sigh as you move the pillows to support your already aching back. 

“I, just cramps.” you stare at your hands a moment while Hotch cracks open the bag of m&m’s, offering you first pick. 

“Y/N, you do realize I taught you how to profile, right? How to read people?” You nod your head, eyes now focused on the colorful beads of chocolate in your palm. “Then you must know I can tell when you’re lying. I can tell when one moment you’re completely fine and the next it’s like you’re forty feet from your own body. Now, I won’t even pretend to know why that is, or what it is that you go thinking about, which forces you into the darkest recess of your own mind. But, I do know that whatever it is, I have your back. If you’re in danger or if it’s stress, anxiety from our work. Whatever it is, I have you…” A flash of worry crosses his intentionally softened features as you meet his stare, his hand freezing in mid air where it was reaching between the two of you. “I mean to say the whole team does. Of course” Hotch says, redirecting his hand into the bag of candies, rattling them in his palm, turning them over with his thumb while he struggles to bring his eyes back to you. 

He finds you staring back at him with such a troubling intensity that he thinks you might have something seriously incriminating to ask of him. Then your chin wobbles once more, you close your eyes tight. Taking a deep breath in and out. You steel yourself. Hotch has only seen this look on your face before when you’re about to face an unsub. It’s your armor. It’s the kind of look that will conceal almost any wars waging behind your eyes. He knows it well because he uses it himself. He silently prays you aren’t about to begin an interrogation. 

“I feel. Different. To the way people see me. To the way they always have, I guess… I don’t feel like my labels or my clothes or my… pronouns, fit me. I don’t really know if the bureau allows, changes, like that, to be made. But. I don’t think my identity fits me very well. At all. I’m not a woman, Hotch. I don’t feel like a man, either. I think I sort of fall someplace in the middle there, in the grey area. I um… I hope that doesn’t, like, compromise how you see-” A larger pair of hands flies across the space between you on the bed, both encompassing your shaking one. His warmth causes your cold hand to clam up as he carefully relaxes his face, offering you a loose smile. 

“That doesn’t compromise any single thing I have ever known about you. You’re still my bravest agent, maybe even more so now.” He squeezes your hand tighter, making sure you can feel his genuine joy radiating through him. “I am so, so happy that I’m someone you’re comfortable to talk about this with. Now. I just want to check I’m grasping this correctly before I go make any incorrect assumptions and, well, you know what they say about when you assume things. So, you feel you best align with ‘they/them’ pronouns? Or they/he? they/she? he/she? I mean you, you don’t have to feel exactly the same way every day of your life, so I could totally arrange a sort of system if you have some more feminine or more masculine days?” Your eyes flood with tears as Hotch talks about making arrangements to accommodate you at work, and you can’t stop them from falling as you try to find the words to answer him. 

“Did I say something wrong?” He shifts closer, worry rising like bile in his throat that he might have misunderstood what you were saying. 

“No. Not at all! You, you’re just being so sweet to me and I was really ready for like, an argument or I don’t know, maybe more a patient debate because I know you understand these things but I just thought you wouldn’t want to change things at work, or-” “Y/N. I will go and call every Section Chief in all fifty states tomorrow morning if you want me to adjust our M and F tickboxes on every piece of bureau paperwork to a, to fill in the blank or a slider for goodness’ sake. I want you to feel as comfortable as I’m able to accommodate.” 

“The tickboxes are okay, they’re just for medical stuff, anyways. And they//them, to answer your last question.” You wipe your eye with the sleeve of your free hand. “I’m not sure I want you to go petitioning the whole FBI just yet. Maybe just the BAU is fine, for now. I at least know all of you are respecting of other identities.” You sniffle as Hotch smiles widely again. 

“Well, we can do that. Start small, take on the world later, right?” 

“Right” you giggle. Feeling a whole lot better about this whole ordeal. A moment of silence passes as you both just take in what’s just happened. You reel at how well Hotch took the news, how he still looks at you with the same twinkle of amazement in his eye. He still thinks you’re his bravest agent. Although, you’re not sure how the man who stared down the barrel of a gun, took 16 stab wounds to the chest fully conscious, and took down countless unsubs with his bare hands or even a piece of string is saying you’re brave, and he sounds like he really believes it. 

Your thoughts are interrupted by a sharp stabbing pain through your insides, that tuft of barbed wire twisting inside of you. A corner of your mind sees the irony of you thinking of Hotch’s real stab wounds and then feeling some of your own, but you push that down. You curl over, trying to assume the fetal position against the stack of pillows behind you as Hotch sits up, moving the tray of snacks out of the way and giving you a pitiful look. 

“Ice cream?” He offers, you feel bad he’s so helpless, you know how he hates feeling that way in situations. 

“I’d normally use my heat pad but I didn’t bring it.” You wince, feeling the mattress shift around you. You open your eyes as your boss peels the duvet and sheets back, opening the bed to you. 

“Slide in. Under the blankets. In the middle, there.” You move yourself slowly, trying not to further twist your stomach. “I want to try something, okay? Do you trust me?” He pushes the blankets over you where you sit stranded, an island in the large bed. 

“Of course.” You don’t hesitate, knowing you’d trust Hotch with your life in any situation. He begins climbing into the bed behind you, pulling you back onto his torso where his legs part around your own. You feel his heat encompassing you underneath the blankets, forcing out the cold, dry air conditioning of the room. Your back flush against his front as your head lays perfectly on his chest, and he rubs his hands together tightly in the air in front of you both, the friction between them audible where it sizzles your ears. 

“I run really hot so, you tell me if this does anything to help the pain, okay?” He races his hands under the blankets, wrapping his arms around your middle, interlocking his fingers of both hands over your front as you feel the near-steam rising off of him all around you. Much to your surprise, his hands really do feel a little like your heating pad from home as they rest over you gently. A moment passes as his warmth wrapping around your body like silk and the dull thrum of his heartbeat behind your head begin to lull you towards sleep. The only sound in the room is the metallic whirring of the minibar in the corner, and Hotch’s tentative breathing, trying not to rock your head where it lays cradled in his chest. 

You begin to drift off, the exhaustion of a nineteen hour work day, the stress on your body from shedding your insides in as a violent bout of cramping and nausea and emotion. You couldn’t even begin to chart the journey you’ve taken across the entire wheel of human emotions in the last three hours alone. It has been such a long day, but you can’t bring yourself to regret it even one bit as your hands come up to wrap around the strong forearm framing your body, and sleep overtakes you. 

Hotch lies awake almost an hour longer, his mind reeling with the events of today. He thinks it over and the penny drops in his mind as to why you despise your period so much. Aside from the associated side-effects, he understands why you didn’t just run to Emily or JJ today. Why you refrained from seeking comfort from other women, as a woman. You aren’t one. He can’t imagine getting a scheduled monthly reminder that you’re living in a body different from the one you belong in. Let alone with the added bloodshed and havoc on your emotions, all other bodily functions giving way to the one thing you wish you could live without. He wonders how long you’ve wanted to tell him this about yourself, how many times he’s seen you retreating into your mind, could he have pulled you out sooner? Showed you that there’s safety in the light, with him? In any case, he swears he can feel specks of glitter appearing all over his skin with how ecstatic he feels that you were able to tell him. That you trust him. That he’s the one person you allowed to hold you at your lowest and to support you through the hardest thing he can imagine an agent like yourself having to go through. Subjecting yourself to the scrutiny of your boss, of your peers, is so difficult. He’s never been good at it. But you wear your heart on your sleeve. You are able to be so vulnerable, so honest and so ready for whatever comes your way. 

When sleep finally does find Aaron Hotchner that night, he really does believe you are the most admirable agent he’s ever had the pleasure of meeting. Of course, it’s normal for this admiration to taste sweet in his mouth, like honey. It’s normal for this admiration to feel as if it’s warming him from the inside out. It’s normal for this admiration to make his heart skip a beat whenever he looks down and finds this admiration wrapped tightly around his arm, their short breaths fanning over his bicep as his eyes flutter closed. Right?

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