#derek morgan x nonbinary reader | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

criminalskies · 6 months

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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?

Taglist: @ssaaaronmontgomery , @pastanoodles11 , @ssamorganhotchner , @hotchnerbau , @hotchs-babygirl, @ssa-tahlia-obsessions , @p0ssywhippedcream , @14buddy22 , @elenamoncada-ibarra , @supercriminalbean , @ssaspenceswife , @levithestripper , @wearenumberonebutitsaurl , @hotchs-big-hands

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lucyswinter · 4 months

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Request guidelines

Requests are : OPEN<3

Masterlist

Who/what I write for:

-Cillian Murphy/ characters: (Jackson Rippner, Tom Shelby, Neil Lewis, Jonathan Crane, Kitten Braden, Jim: 28 days later, Emmett: a quiet place part II, Raymond Leon, Robert Fischer, Tom Buckley)

-Criminal Minds: Spencer Reid, Aaron Hotchner, Derek Morgan, Emily Prentiss, Penelope Garcia, JJ,

-The Bear: Sydney Adamu, Richie Jerimovich, Carmen Berzatto, Sugar Berzatto

-Saw: Lawrence Gordon, Adam Stanheight, Mark Hoffman, Peter Strahm, Amanda Young, Jill Tuck, Lynn Denlon (for ships: I’ll do chainshipping, coffinshipping, and shotgunshipping/lynnmanda!)

-American Horror Story (All seasons up to Cult. Only ships if they are canon (by season, I mean)! i.e: I won’t do Kit Walker (s2) x Madison Montgomery (s3) or anything)!

-Nip/Tuck: Sean McNamara, Christian Troy, Matt McNamara, Julie McNamara, Liz Cruz, Eden Lord

-DC villains (from the Nolan trilogy or Gotham tv show! I will specify from which one I mean. I’ll also write Batman but that’s the only hero)

-Peaky blinders: Luca Changretta, Tom Shelby, Alfie Solomons, Finn Shelby, John Shelby, Arthur Shelby, Oswald Mosley

-Top Gun/ Top Gun: Maverick: any characters! (For ships, I only rlly know IceMav 😭 but I’m open to others! I’ll also do penny!reader)

-Bridgerton/ Queen Charolette: Daphne x Simon, George x Charolette, Anthony x Kate, Colin x Penelope (and all of these characters individually!)

-Community: Professor Ian Duncan, Jeff Winger, Abed Nadir, Britta Perry , Annie Edison, Troy Barnes

-Impractical Jokers: Joe Gatto, Sal Vulcano, James Murray, Brian Quinn

-Supernatural: Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, Castiel, Destiel (will not do Wincest or Wincestiel)

-X-files: Fox Mulder, Dana Scully, MSR

-BBC Sherlock (only JohnLock)

-Good omens (only Ineffable husbands)

-Hannibal (only Hannigram)

(Any other characters im open to! Just PM me to see if I know the fandom/media they’re in, or rec with a few options! I’ll ignore if I don’t know them <;3)

I will write: A bit ooc (depends on scenario 🤭), fluff, smut, small-ish age gap, AU’s, non romantic pairings, alternate endings, fem!/gn!/afab!reader, character x reader, character x character

I won’t write: Male!/nonbinary!/trans!reader (im a cis female so I will write gender neutral reader if requested, but most fics (unless specified) were written with a fem reader in mind :)), incest, underage reader (or character), dub/non-con

Thanks for reading! Feel free to PM requests if you aren’t comfortable sending them through the question button or want to work through the request :)

#fanfic guidlines

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emberfrostlovesloki · 4 months

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Not Your Girl [Emily x Reader]

Photo credits: Left and Right (@sugarcoatedvein) Center (@lilacprentiss)

Prompt: When the Non-BAU!reader has something big to tell Emily, they pick the worst way to tell her.

Pairing: Emily x nonbinary!reader. The reader is AFAB and uses they/them pronouns for most of the story.

Category: fluff/comfort

Word Count: 2.9K

Content Warnings: Mentions of bad gym culture, mention of fitness and exercise, a slightly fatphobic comment [directed at Penelope by a gym bro], breakups, light drinking, and swearing. If I missed any, please let me know.

A/N: Just some fluffy reader coming out to Emily as nonbinary and them reflecting about the course of their relationship. This is another @imagining-in-the-margins post based on the fabulous January and February writing challenge. This one is from her dialog prompts: “I love every iteration of you.” I just know Emily would support you no matter what. I am glad this isn’t a novel. I love my longer work, but this was a nice change. I hope you like it as much as I enjoyed writing it. If you do enjoy this, likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated! I hope you have a great end of your week. Love Levi - ❤️

List with all stories

_y/n_ = your name

_l/n_ = your last name

_y/f/c_ = your favorite color

_y/d/h_ = your dominant hand

_y/j_ = your job

_y/f/s_ = your favorite show

“Emily, I don’t think I can be your girl anymore.” The look on Prentiss’s face told _y/n_ instantly that they’d phrased that wrong. With Emily being such a chronic overthinker, it was a poor choice of phrase. _y/n_ saw the look of insecurity and maybe sadness play out on Em’s face, and before _y/n_ could say anything, Prentiss asked, “Are you breaking up with me, _y/n? I thought we were doing good/” _y/n_ shook their head no rapidly and said, “Em. I’m not saying that at all, just let me explain.” Em sat back in her kitchen chair, crossed her arms over her chest, and said, “Please do,” _y/n_ took a deep breath. They knew Emily loved them. Had loved them for nearly a year, and the reactions _y/n_ was getting made sense given Emily’s past of being dumped just when a relationship seemed to be working out. However, the defensive wall _y/n_’s partner had so easily thrown up after months of breaking them down now had _y/n_ concerned. What if Emily wouldn’t love them like this? Emily’s hyper-focus on details and consistency was rubbing off on _y/n_and made them question whether or not to share the truth. But in a second, their whole relationship up till that point flashed before _y/n_’s eyes. It had started in the gym.

It was all thanks to Penelope, who had made a New Year's resolution to move more. Nothing more than that. No weight loss goals, no need for a summer body, just a desire to move because it felt good. Emily was happy to help Garcia out because she had made a bet with Derek in October about the upcoming FBI fitness test in March. Prentiss had overheard Morgan telling another male agent, who was overconfident and under-muscled for the claims he was making, that he was going to beat all of his personal bests in the fitness test. Emily scoffed and said, “Really Derek. You say that every year.” Morgan looked over to Em and replied with a teasing tone, “And I mean it every year. You wanna make a bet on it?” Prentiss knew this was all in good fun, and said, “You’re on. What are the terms?” Derek steepled his hands and replied, “If I don’t get personal best’s next exam, then you can set me up on a blind date. But, the same goes for you. You’ve got to beat all of your personal records, and if you don’t, then I set you up on a blind date.” Emily smiled because this was the exact kind of shenanigans they got into when she was more relaxed between cases. It gave both her and Morgan something to think about outside of work. Prentiss stuck out her, and Derek took it while saying, “You’re on.” So, when Penelope talked about wanting to move more, Emily recommended the Zumba class she took on Saturday evenings. Penelope was hesitant at first, but when Em described it as “angry dancing,” Garcia got on board quickly.

Emily hadn’t believed in Zumba either, that was until her pilates class got canceled one day. Zumba was the only class on offer and despite her hesitations, Prentiss went. Prentiss was so happy that she did because the class turned out to be very relaxing and a good workout at the same time. It didn’t hurt that the person next to her was very cute in their _y/f/c_ crop top and long socks. Prentiss started coming back to Zumba more and more, and the young woman was always there just vibing with the music no matter what was going on. Their positivity was infectious. When Penelope joined the class for a session a week later, Emily and the tech genius had a great time. So good a time that they agreed to go to drinks after because what was the point of working out if you couldn’t have some fun as a reward? As the duo passed by the weight room, one of the gym bros waiting for a squat rack to open up looked over at Emily and said, “Hey babe, wanna come over here and spot me? And maybe you should tell Blondie to come back sometime. She might fit in here.” Emily was so mad that the man had commented about her friend, who was happy and healthy, that she just froze. The man laughed at Penelope’s hurt face, but a voice from behind Emily and Garcia wiped the smile off his face real quick as _y/n_ said, “Hey, asshole. Let me tell you something. Muscles don’t fucking mean anything if there’s not a heart underneath all of them. So keep pumping iron, but consider getting a brain and some self-awareness before commenting on someone you don’t know and is a hell of a lot braver than you because she showed up despite having to deal with dickheads like you.” At _y/n_’s comments, both Emily and Penelope looked at _y/n_ with wide, impressed eyes. Emily knew _y/n_ immediately. It was the woman she had been secretly admiring for a month now. The woman’s beauty was amplified as she demonstrated not only energy, but didn't tolerate bad behavior, and standing up for someone she didn’t know. When the guy at the rack moved toward them, particularly toward _y/n_ with a frown on his face. Emily stepped in front of _y/n_ and said with all the authority of an FBI profiler, “Sit down.” The man hesitated. Finally, he moved back to where he was with his head down, muttering under his breath.

While Em was using her scary dog privileges, _y/n_ pulled Penelope toward the stairs saying, “Don’t listen to that douch bag. You were great in class.” Garcia smiled and said, “Thanks. That was nice of you to say. I’m Penelope Garcia, by the way.” _y/n_ smiled and said, “I’m _y/n_, _l/n_. Nice to meet you, Penelope.” As they started talking, Emily joined them, and Garcia introduced _y/n_ to Prentiss. Pen asked _y/n_ if she wanted to join them for drinks. _y/n_ who hadn’t made many friends since moving to D.C., agreed. As _y/n_ and changed in the dressing room, _y/n_ couldn’t help but look at Emily and admire her strength. _y/n_ had been looking at Emily since she’d joined the class. Unfortunately, _y/n_ was terrible with flirting and asking people out, so the admiration had been one-sided. At least she thought it had been. At the bar, the trio’s conversation was natural and easy. More than that, Penelope could see how Emily was looking at and talking to _y/n_ like she was the most important thing there. When _y/n_ had gone to the restroom, Garcia had said, “Emily if you don’t ask her out at the end of this get-together, I’m going to scream.” Prentiss retorted, “Pen, I just know her from the gym and this meeting. Don’t you think that’s moving a little fast?” Garcia smiled, now knowing for sure that Emily liked _y/n_. The tech replied, “Emily's life is short, if she says no, then you can move your pining elsewhere.” Garcia took a long sip of her Cosmo before adding on, “ By the way _y/n_ was giving you the same big doe eyes you were giving her, so…” And that was how _y/n_ had been asked out on a date by Emily.

The first date was at a local farmers market. _y/n_ and Emily strolled the stalls, got lemonade, and sat in the shade as a local band played in the background. They talked about their hobbies and dating preferences. That was there _y/n_ had learned that Em was mostly dating women at this point in her life. And Prentiss had learned that _y/n_ was new to dating women. They’d said, “I’m just trying to figure everything out. I hope that doesn’t sound dismissive. I just want to be honest, when it comes to dating, sometimes I don’t know what I’m doing, But if you’re willing to put up with me, I’d enjoy figuring it out with you.” Emily had agreed, and they went on a second and third date. Over time _y/n_ learned about the team and why Emily could be so serious sometimes and more relaxed when she was not on a case.

One night at _y/n_’s house, while cooking dinner, _y/n_ admitted, “You know, I didn’t realize that dating and being interested in women was an option until way later in my life. I feel like I spent years looking for the perfect person and love at first sight, but I wasn’t ever looking in the right place.” Em nodded as she stirred the pasta in with the sauce; she replied, “I get it. Being sheltered does things to you that other people might not understand. It was such a relief to me when I figured out I could just like both. And it was more of a relief when I realized that dating doesn’t have to end in disappointment.” _y/n_ wrapped their arms around Emily’s waist and kissed the agent’s neck saying, “I’m happy too, Emily.” _y/n_ had heard Prentiss lightly reference her hesitation about dating a few times, and _y/n_ wondered if there was more to the story. _y/n_ felt that it was far enough in their relationship and asked, “Em, would you tell me what happened? Why you were so averse to dating when we met?” Prentiss turned to _y/n_ and sighed before saying, “I guess I owe you an explanation about why I seemed too hot and cold and the beginning there.” Em turned off the heat on the stove and led _y/n_ to the table. Once they sat across from each other, Emily said, “I was in a committed relationship for a year last year. I thought everything was perfect. The girl, my life, work. I thought I’d finally figured it out. I was going to propose. And then a case happened. A bad one. I got hurt. I called my then-partner, and she was hysterical. I tried to make her feel better, but she wouldn’t listen to me. She was so attached that the idea of me being hurt, of me dying on the job pushed her away. When I got home, she was gone. She took all of her stuff. It was like she never existed. I tried to call her, but she never responded. And the thing is, I get it. Anything could happen. Not everyone can deal with those odds. I don’t blame her.” _y/n_ listened and felt sorry for Emily to have been abandoned like that. _y/n_ said, “You might have understood her reasoning, but she might have told you goodbye or explained. I’m sorry you went through that, Em. Just letting you know, I don’t plan on going anywhere.” Prentiss smiled and said, “Thanks _y/n_. Do you mean that even if I can’t cook?” _y/n_ tipped her head to the side and Emily, who was facing the stove said, “Because I turned off the wrong burner and that pasta is definitely burning.” Just as _y/n_ looked back at the smoking pan on the stove, the fire alarm went off. After _y/n_ and Emily handled the situation with the crispy food, they both laughed long and hard. Em took _y/n_ out to dinner instead, and that was where they’d made their relationship official. They moved on slowly, and to _y/n_’s words, she stuck with Em through the highs and lows. And Emily did the same for _y/n_. Weathering life together, they realized, was much more enjoyable than being alone. Even in the hard times and arguments. And this reassurance made _y/n_ feel strong enough to tell Em the whole truth.

All of the care and love that they had shared. All the late nights and early mornings. _y/n_ knew that that kind of love didn’t just go away because things changed. So _y/n_ took a deep breath and replied, “I can’t be your girl anymore because I think I’m… nonbinary.” The words hung there for a few seconds before Prentiss’s face changed from one of confusion to one of unbridled joy. Em put both of her hands across the table, and _y/n_ took them in hers. All Emily said was, “Really? For how long sweetheart?” Prentiss had noticed the subtle changes in _y/n_’s behavior and mannerisms. Of course, she had. But Emily didn’t want to read into things or press _y/n_ into talking about things she might not want to. _y/n_ took a breath and said, “Maybe a month or a little more. I’ve been thinking about it for a while, but it finally clicked after we did that charity 5K with the team.” Prentiss nodded. That had been an interesting afternoon, but she didn’t realize how much it had meant to _y/n. _y/n_ looked at Emily’s face. Even though it was jubilant, _y/n_ had to make sure. Had to hear from Emily, and _y/n_ asked, “So you’re not upset? I know you prefer dating women, but I’m not that anymore I guess.” Emily pulled _y/n_’s hands to her mouth and kissed over both sets of _y/n_’s knuckles before saying, “Of course, I’m not upset, _y/n_. You’re telling me who you are. Who the real you is. That takes courage and reflection, and I love that about you. You never back down from a challenge or a hard thing. Even if that hard thing is understanding yourself.” _y/n_ wasn’t sure why Emily’s positive words were having such an effect on them, but _y/n_’s eyes teared up, and they had to pull _y/d/h_ out of Em’s to wipe them away with their shirt sleeve. _y/n_ laughed and said, “At least I’m still emotional as I’ve always been.” That had Prentiss laugh and say, “_y/n_. Just because you feel differently about your body or gender doesn’t mean you’re just going to change in an instant. If you feel like you need to make changes, then that will happen, but you’re still you. You’re still the person I love. I will always love.” Em took a breath, feeling emotional herself before she said, “I love every possible iteration of you.” _y/n_ sniffled and asked, “What did I ever do to deserve you, Em?” They were both beaming now, and Prentiss replied, “I could ask you the same thing, _y/n_. And you know we can play at compliments forever, but do you want to talk about this more? Or do you just want to be for a bit?” _y/n_ put their chin in their hand and said, “How about a bit of both? I feel like this could be a couch conversation.

Couch conversations were when _y/n_ and Emily sat and talked about their days. Em would talk about the office drama or the latest case, while _y/n_ dove into the details of _y/j_ and what was happening there. The couch was a place for relaxed conversation with _y/f/s_ playing in the background while they talked and laughed or complained together. Big conversations happened at the table. It was an unspoken system between them. Given Emily’s hectic and stressful life, it worked for them. As _y/n_ looked at Emily’s hand and they moved to the couch, _y/n_ wondered why they’d started this conversation at the kitchen table. _y/n_ tossed this choice, the table or the couch bounced in their head like a ping-pong ball. It was a big deal. This kind of discovery was, and talking about it with Emily was even more important, but at the same time, realizing this new facet of themself just felt like them. It finally felt like them. Because _y/n_ wasn’t sure what to make of it, they asked Prentiss because _y/n_’s partner always had something understanding to say. Sometimes _y/n_ thought Emily knew them better than they knew themself. _y/n_ chalked it up to the profiling. Once they were both seated and the TV was on low, _y/n_ asked, “Did I make this too big a deal?” Emily turned her head to _y/n_ and moved her hand to _y/n_’s jaw, stroking down _y/n_’s face. Even though Em had never had the feelings _y/n_ had about their gender, she had felt unsure about her sexuality. She understood how it felt like everything and nothing at the same time. Prentiss said, “Not at all, _y/n_. It wasn’t too big or too small. It’s important to you in the big way, and in the small mundane life things, and I’m excited to explore all of those intricacies with you. The highs and the lows. I am so excited to be with you no matter what. No matter who you are.” At that moment, _y/n_ fully understood that Emily knew them. And feeling known right now made _y/n_ feel like the most real version of themself as they’d ever been.

______________________________________________________________

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ssa-atlas-alvez · 3 years

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BAU x gn!reader

So reader is one of the youngest members (like Reid’s age) and this is the reader’s reaction to Hotch and Kate Joyner. Also, neither of them are old, it’s just reader being a lil shit lol

Warnings: None

Word Count: 275

You giggled slightly, “Did you two hook up then?” You asked, wiggling your eyebrows suggestively at your boss.

“Did you just giggle?” Emily asked in shock, looking to Morgan for confirmation, who nodded.

“So what if I did? Am I not allowed to have fun every now and then?” You asked, mouth agape in false shock, “Besides, old people hooking up make me laugh.”

“Old people?” Hotch asked, jaw dropping, “I am not old. You’re just too young…” You merely raised an eyebrow as you turned to Spencer.

“I’m surprised any of them know how to work a phone.”

“I can work a cell phone thank you very much.” Hotch defended, jaw still dropped.

“A cell phone… not just a phone, huh?” You paused for effect, “that's what old people call them.”

“Fine line, (Y/N),” Hotch grinned.

“Sorry if I caused you more grey hair, sir.” You laughed. “I had coffee today, can you tell?”

“Yes,” Morgan chimed with a shit eating grin, “We can,”

“How many cups?” JJ asked with a small laugh.

“Four, in the past hour,” You said with a fast nod, “But I had two the hour before that, so six in the past two hours. I’m never going to fall asleep,”

Morgan and Spencer let out a groan, “Hotch, wanna switch rooms?” Morgan asked, Hotch laughed and shook his head.

“Nope, you’re the one who made them half of the coffee they've had,” Hotch said.

“Don’t even think about asking me,” Rossi said, smirking.

You bounced on the tip of your feet, “I might binge watch Greys Anatomy tonight, you guys wanna watch it with me?”

“Nope,”

“Definitely not,”

509 notes · View notes

imagineaworlds · 3 years

Text

Bunny and Baby -- Poly!BAU Team

(Edited version for a broader audience. You can check out the full version on @hotch-and-bunny)

Written By: @desperately-bisexual

Request: None.

Warnings: Dom/sub relationships, Sir kink, Mistress kink, Ma’am kink, Daddy kink, dirty talk, restraints (handcuffs), collaring, leashes, edging, orgasm control, orgasm denial, ruined orgasms, degradation, mild choking, pegging, impregnation/breeding kink, minimal in-chapter aftercare, though it is alluded to happening afterwards. The reader does go by they/them pronouns, however, the team refers to them as female when saying “good girl”, “princess”, etc.

Pairing: Nonbinary!Reader (fem anatomy) x BAU Team.

Dynamic (in order of superiority): Sir!Dom!Aaron Hotchner, Ma’am!Dom!Elle Greenaway, Mistress!Dom!Emily Prentiss, Daddy!Dom!Derek Morgan, switch!Reader (sub in this plot), bunny!sub!Spencer Reid.

Word Count: 7645

Criminal Minds Discord Server

We had been returning from a case in Louisiana, everyone sitting comfortably in their own seats on the jet. Hotch and I were beside each other— I was pressed between him and the window— Morgan was across from us, Emily and Elle were across the aisle and a row back, and Spencer was laying on the couch. Rossi hadn’t come with us because he had a family emergency. Emily and Elle were the only ones talking while the rest of us were quietly working on our own things; but Spencer was just half asleep on the couch, trying to catch up on some rest. He told us before we boarded that he had another headache that kept him up all night, and we all scolded him for not coming to one of us and seeking help because we always knew what to do to help him. He insisted that it wasn’t a big deal, though. While I didn’t entirely believe him, we all decided to let him rest during the flight.

It wasn’t until there was a bit of turbulence that made me grab onto Hotch’s arm that things got… interesting. The thing was, when it came to Aaron Hotchner, the slightest touch could set him off, and he would get mean because he saw even the simplest of shoulder bumps as a bratty act that needed to be punished. I always had to be careful around him because of that. But I forgot. The plane jumped in the air, my stomach dropped, and before I knew it, I was squeezing his bicep to ground myself as some kind of reminder that I wasn’t going to die or something.

When the turbulence passed, I tore my hand away from Hotch, keeping in mind that I had to keep my hands to myself, but it was too late. He was staring at me. I swallowed hard and tried to go back to my book that Spencer had recommended, which was his attempt to win his favor with me after he pissed me off one day and I wanted to punish him. He was lucky that I wasn’t as mean as Hotch and Emily. Unfortunately for me, however, that meant I was completely fucked because Hotch was still sitting there, staring at me, likely asking himself how I could dare to touch him without permission, even when it was for something as innocent as it had been. I finally dared to look up at him. He was frowning.

“Sir—” I tried to explain myself quietly so that the others couldn’t hear, but he shook his head, silently telling me to stop. I fell silent and gulped.

Hotch, without saying anything, looked back down at the iPad that was sitting on the table in front of him as he was going through emails, scoping out new cases to take on; but what he did after that was somewhat unexpected. His hand closest to me drifted between my thighs. I adjusted in my seat, trying to fix my posture to be “smooth” so that no one else would notice. No one looked up. Hotch continued with his plan, forcing his hand between my thighs, spreading my legs open to give him access to what was beneath my skirt. I should have known that wearing a skirt on the jet was only going to get me in trouble, but with the case having just ended, and with Spencer’s headaches, my attire had been the last thing on my mind. To Hotch, however, it seemed to be the only thing on his mind.

“Don’t make a sound,” he whispered to me. I was surprised Morgan didn’t hear him.

When I nodded, Hotch pressed his index and middle fingers against my panties, finding the sensitive nub that was my clit, hiding behind my labia and the clitoral hood. He was too far. I needed him to press harder to actually feel his fingers, to actually get me to the edge rather than just get needy for him— but my desperation for him and what was about to come was undeniable when he slid his fingers down to hover over my core, discovering a wet spot that was slowly forming. Hotch snickered to himself. I knew that he was probably thinking to himself something along the lines of how he had only just touched me and I was already wet, proving to him that I was always thinking about having one of them— if not all of them— fuck me.

Hotch moved back up to my clit, and he pressed hard enough that I could feel him, but not enough to actually give me everything I wanted. Slowly, he started rubbing circles over my panties. A quiet sigh left my lips as I leaned back in my seat, moved my hips forward to give him better access, and I screwed my eyes shut. There was no doubt that if Morgan happened to look up, he would know exactly what was happening.

As Hotch’s fingers started moving faster, I rolled my hips eagerly to make his pace in an attempt to speed up my orgasm, but he pulled away somewhat and slowed down until I stopped moving and waited politely for him to make another move. He went back to what he was doing suddenly. I tensed and tried my very best to hold still this time while also biting my lip to keep myself from moaning. But I was so close again. So, so close. I just wanted to cum for him.

“Sir, please,” I whispered. “Please.”

“Please, may I cum?”

“Ask Mistress first.”

My eyes widened and I looked at him, but he was still reading his emails, so I looked over at Emily. She was still casually talking to Elle without a single clue as to what a mess I was while sitting next to Hotch. I shook my head. I couldn’t. I couldn’t beg like that randomly when they were all doing their own things. So, Hotch shrugged because he didn’t care one way or the other. If I wasn’t going to ask, he wasn’t going to let me cum, and for him, that was fun and it didn’t matter. But to me, it mattered. His fingers kept rolling over my clit again and again, and it was getting unbearable, it was getting torturous. So, I dared to give in.

I let out an audible moan while leaning forward to grab onto the table to hold my orgasm back, and I croaked, “Mistress—” Everyone stopped what they were doing to look over at me. There I was, clearly falling apart as Hotch’s arm was suspiciously moving in the direction that led just between my thighs. Emily was staring at me. “Mistress, please, may I cum?”

Her mouth fell agape in shock when she realized what it was that Hotch was doing and why I was asking. She looked between me and Hotch. “Have they been good?” she asked him.

“No,” he said nonchalantly.

“Then, no, you may not cum, slut,” she said to me.

I whimpered and increased my grip on the table until my knuckles were turning white. “Please! I’m not going to last!”

“You cum, you get punished,” Morgan said.

“Fuck…” I tried wiggling away from Hotch, but it was useless since I was trapped in the seat next to the window. “Please…” I was breathless now. “Please… I can’t…”

“And what are you doing?” Elle questioned roughly, squinting at Spencer, scolding him for something I couldn’t see.

Spencer floundered and stuttered from the couch. “I— Um. Nothing, Ma’am. I’m sorry. It was nothing.”

“Doesn’t look like nothing.”

“Fuck—” I moved my hips around again with Hotch’s fingers as my orgasm suddenly washed through me, a shiver running down my spine as my toes curled in my shoes, my thighs shook against the leather seat, and my walls clenched around nothing. “Shit.” Hotch slowed his movements as I came down from my high. My eyes quickly scanned the interior of the jet, catching how they were all scowling at me, unpleased with how I had cum without any of their permission. My heart sank in my chest. “I’m sorry.”

“First, Spence starts touching himself without permission,” Elle began as she stood from her seat and started approaching the couch. I sat up a bit in my seat so that I could look over my shoulder to see Spencer sitting up somewhat now, an erection straining his pants, a small wet spot on the front from his pre-cum. “Then, you cum without our permission.” She ran her fingers through Spencer’s hair, then once she was far enough in, she curled her grip, roughly pulling at his curls to make him sit up all the way. “And the two of you still had the audacity to say that you’re sorry. I don’t think they’re actually sorry; do you, Morgan?”

“No,” he answered, also disappointed in us.

“We didn’t train brats,” she hissed, pulling at Spencer’s hair again, making him whimper.

“His headache, Elle—” Emily warned quickly.

Elle froze when she remembered, and she tried removing her grip from Spencer, suddenly aware of how she might have hurt him in her fit of anger. “I’m sorry, Spence—”

But he cut her off by gently taking her wrist and leading her touch back to his hair, encouraging to pull again. “It’s gone.”

“Don’t lie, bunny.”

“I’m not, Ma’am.”

She smirked and tugged again, bringing him to his knees. “Then the two of you have no excuse for misbehaving. Their punishment, Morgan.”

Hotch slid out of his seat and moved to the back of the jet where Emily was still sitting so that there was enough room for Morgan to stand at the same time as I did, knowing that it was better than him grabbing onto my hair, too. When we were both in the aisle, my back close to Elle’s, Morgan caught me off guard by pinching my chin roughly in between his thumb and his other four fingers. I pouted my eyes at him. I was trying to silently beg for mercy, but, of course, it didn’t work.

In fact, it made him chuckle. “Princess, you did this to yourself.”

“Daddy, I’m sorry… Please… I didn’t mean to cum.”

“Then, you should have held it like good girls do.”

“Their punishment, Derek,” Hotch reminded.

Morgan rolled his eyes because he already knew what he was doing and he hated that Hotch thought he needed to be babysat while Domming me, even though he didn’t. Morgan and I had done plenty of scenes together. As the only switch in our relationship, it was easy for me to go visit one of them when I needed to be Dommed, whereas I would go to Spencer if I needed to Dom. Each of them were unique Doms, though, and I would seek them out separately, depending on what I needed. I mean, I lived with Hotch, but he could be cruel, and sometimes, I didn’t need that. Out of all of us, Morgan was the kindest. His punishments were never harsh, and playing with him was always easy, compared to with Emily or Elle, who were on the same wavelength, both masters at torturing me with edges, ruins, forced orgasms. When I needed something light, I went to Morgan. When I needed to be completely out of control, not a single thought in my head, I went to Emily or Elle— usually both at the same time. With Hotch, he was everything that Morgan, Emily, and Elle were, but he was also the one who gave me the harshest punishments. Nipple clamps that he tugged on, floggers, plugs, being tied up and left there for an hour while he was gone, cockwarming me until he came and I didn’t. But Morgan was the one that had dictated my punishment. For cumming, he got to decide what they were going to do with me, which gave me a little bit of hope that it wouldn’t be that bad.

“Hands behind your back,” he demanded.

I did so without hesitation, and he spun me around so that he could cuff my hands together. I had a good view of Spencer and Elle now. He was on his knees in front of her, the two of them watching each other carefully— probably because she was trying to decide if he was lying about his headaches or not, and he was trying to gauge how bad his punishment would be. But she was just playing with his hair. We all loved to do that. I mean, Spencer loved it, too, which was why he did it, and it was the easiest way to ease him in and out of sub space. When I would Dom him, our sessions were usually the same. I’d go to his house to find him kneeling by the door, waiting patiently for me while wearing his cute little collar that we all picked out for him, and then he’d cook dinner for me. Sometimes, if he had been bratty, I’d sit in the living room, using him to balance platters in his hands that held my wine glass, any snacks I had, and sometimes even a book or two. If he ever dropped them, I’d punish him. If not, I’d reward him. For rewards, we’d go to his bedroom where I’d worship his cock, but never getting him close enough to the edge to actually make it 100% pleasant. I liked watching him squirm. Even when he had his best days, he knew that I wasn’t going to immediately let him cum because my favorite part about being his Dom was controlling his orgasms. As for punishments, that usually came with tying him up, flogging him sometimes, ruining his poor, little orgasms to make him whimper pathetically, and overstimulating him. I fucking loved the sounds he made during sex. Usually, I could pry them out of him with just a simple praise, but they were always so sweet when I had him tied to his bed, a plug in his ass, and I was riding every single drop out of him, never stopping even after he came inside of me.

His hair, though… One rough tug at his hair and he was immediately our bunny. For aftercare, his favorite thing was cuddling while we played with his curls. Brushing his hair, curling his strands around our fingers, gently massaging his scalp, all of those things prevented him from sub dropping, and it reassured him that he was safe with us, that we loved him, that he was going to be okay. I loved his hair. In fact, I was obsessed with it. Watching as Elle played with it and he nuzzled against her with a hypnotized, submissive smile on his face, I felt myself lighten up, too.

“Come here, bunny,” Morgan beckoned Spencer over to us. After Elle released him, he crawled around her and stopped just in front of me. “Take their skirt off.” Spencer did as he was told, reaching up for my waistband, quickly pulling my skirt down to my ankles. I helped him by stepping out of them. “Not their panties,” he warned when Spencer moved for those, too. Spencer dropped his hands to his lap. “Can you see how wet Sir made them? The mess they made from breaking the rules?”

Spencer nodded. “Yes, Daddy.”

“Don’t be like them.”

“Spence, where’s your collar?” Elle asked, already digging through his bag that she retrieved from one of the overhead bins. I heard another one open behind me and Morgan, probably something that Hotch or Emily were looking for. “Nevermind.” She found Spencer’s collar and leash in his go-bag and brought it over to us. “Presentation.”

“Yes, Ma’am.” Spencer looked up somewhat so that Elle could see where she was positioning the collar over his Adam’s apple, and then he looked down and moved his long hair out of the way so that she could clasp it together.

“Presentation,” Morgan whispered in my ear. So, that was what the other overhead bin had been. Hotch had probably gone digging for my collar, too.

The rule with me and Spencer was that we weren’t allowed to wear our collars in public because the whole point of kink was that all parties were consenting adults at all times. If someone wasn’t consenting to the scene, it had to stop immediately. The thing with wearing an obvious O-collar out and about was that the general public couldn’t consent to viewing it. Yes, it looked like a choker if you were oblivious, but it still wasn’t fair. And we didn’t like to draw attention to ourselves, anyhow. So, Spencer and I could never wear our collars in public, but we always had to bring them in our go-bags in case a situation like this arose where we were at the hotel and needed to submit, or, yes, even on the jet. This had only happened once before, though, to be fair.

When Morgan finished clasping my collar around my neck, he pushed me to my knees, my face even with Spencer’s. His breath was hot on my nose, our lips so close I could nearly taste him, but Elle tugged on his leash, pulling him back, and Morgan tugged on mine, pulling me back. We both whimpered at the feeling. “You don’t get to touch each other,” Morgan hissed. “In fact, Y/N, you don’t get to touch anyone at all.” My eyes widened and I looked up at Elle, almost as if I could read the look on her face to see how the rest of them were feeling behind me.

She was smirking. “Bunny’s so hard…” Elle teased, pulling on Spencer’s leash to have him lean back against her thighs. “Aren’t you?”

“Yes, Ma’am,” he admitted.

“You’re lucky that you only palmed yourself without permission. If you would have done anything worse, we’d be making your punishment no-touch, like Y/N. What do you say to us for sparing you that torture?”

“Thank you.”

“Good boy.”

“Let’s move them to the front,” Morgan told Elle so that she could pull Spencer onto the couch to give him room to make me crawl towards the front of the jet where no one would bother me. “Go on,” he encouraged. I started crawling, and when I made it where he wanted me, he had me turn around so that I was facing the entirety of the team. “Now, you get to sit here and watch.”

“Daddy?” I questioned, unsure of what he meant.

“And not talk.” He crouched and kissed me gently. “This is what you get for breaking the rules.”

“It’s useless to keep apologizing; isn’t it?” Around Morgan, I could talk to him like that, which was a little more casual than most scenes called for, but with the others, I could never say anything like that. Morgan understood, though. He nodded and kissed me again. “Give me a toy, at least. Edge me, ruin me— Anything.”

“No.” He stood back up.

Elle had Spencer’s pants on the ground now, and Emily had moved to the couch to peel his shirt off. As Morgan approached them, Hotch moved closer, too. I watched as the four of them dedicated their entire attention to Spencer, kissing his jawline, nibbling on his earlobe, running their thumbs over his sensitive nipples, and Elle worked her hand down under his briefs. I rolled my hips around for friction against my soaked panties when I heard Spencer let out a breathless moan just before Hotch kissed him to shut him up.

“Don’t let him edge,” Emily warned as Elle continued to play with Spencer inside of his underwear.

“Aw,” Elle cooed with false sympathy against his cheekbone, “is bunny already close?”

He nodded eagerly while pulling away from his kiss with Hotch. “Yes, Ma’am.”

“Well, I think it’s only fair to make you ask Mistress for permission the same way Y/N had to.”

He turned his head to look up at Emily. “Please, Mistress?” He sounded just as desperate and pathetic as I had. “May I cum?”

“You touched without permission, though, bunny,” she said to him. He shook his head, knowing that was her answer without saying what she actually meant. “I know that listening to Y/N beg was overwhelming for you…”

She dragged her nails down his chest, making his chest tense up. I saw the way his little stomach sucked in, and I whimpered again. I wanted that to be me touching him. I loved the little tummy he had now since we had helped him get over his addiction since Mexico. He was so healthy now, which meant eating well, something we regulated, and it gave him a cute, healthy, tummy that showed when he was wearing his belts with a button down shirt. I loved praising that part of him. Sometimes, it was obvious how self-conscious it could make him, but when we let him know how much we loved it and how proud we were of his progress since Mexico, he would love it, too.

Spencer bucked up when Elle pulled her hand out of his underwear, leaving him hanging on the edge. Hotch grabbed Spencer’s hips and pushed him back down onto the couch with a huff, probably still angry about me, but now it was worse since Spencer was acting up. I saw Spencer’s cock twitch helplessly behind the constraints of his clothes. He was trying to reach for someone’s hand again, but Morgan collected his wrists together and took Elle’s handcuffs, using them to restrain Spencer the same way I was restrained.

“Please,” he pleaded. “Something. Anything. Please.”

“My bag, Hotch,” Emily muttered, focusing on getting Spencer out of his underwear now. He let out a sigh of relief when his cock bounced freely against his stomach. Hotch scrambled to Emily’s go-bag at the back of the plane and started digging in it for something. “The red one—”

“I know,” he grumbled. “I know.”

He pulled out three things, holding them up long enough for me to inspect from where I was kneeling on the opposite side of the jet. The red strap on that Emily loved to fuck Spence with, a bottle of lube to help him take her easier, and the worst part… Honestly, I didn’t know what was worse, what I was enduring or what torture was awaiting Spencer with the last toy Hotch retrieved. I didn’t even realize Emily carried it around with her. How did she even think to bring such a thing? I mean, I understood the red strap and the lube, but… that? I almost felt bad for Spencer. At least I got to cum earlier, even though I wasn’t supposed to, but it seemed like they didn’t want Spencer to cum at all. I felt sorry for him. If I wasn’t so far into sub space, I probably would’ve snickered with the rest of them, thinking about all of the wicked ways I could have tortured him with it, but… No, I couldn’t while we were both being punished.

“If you want to touch so bad,” Hotch said while returning to the couch, “then we’ll touch.” Spencer’s eyes widened when he saw the last toy. “But we won’t let you cum.”

He struggled against his Doms’ holds as Hotch knelt down to begin the tedious process of sliding the tight metal cock ring over Spencer’s length. Spencer cursed at the feelings. I had no doubts that the ring was cold to the touch— which was an unbearable feeling for him— and it was probably so tight on him… When it reached his base, it kept all of the blood right where it needed to be to ensure he stayed hard. And then Hotch grabbed the string version of the cock ring, which was entirely adjustable, so he slid it over Spencer’s balls and tightened it. Spencer cried out.

“Sir—” Spencer moaned pleasantly as Hotch suddenly dipped down and wrapped his lips around Spencer’s cock. “Thank you, Sir.”

Emily came over to torture me. She pulled at my leash, choking me, tugging my head back somewhat. “Keep your eyes on Spence.”

My gaze was narrowed down my cheeks and my nose so that I could watch as Hotch slowly licked his tongue around Spencer’s sensitive tip that was still leaking pre-cum. I knew he tasted good. I knew that he was probably a leaking, pathetic mess, and Hotch was enjoying every second of torturing him; and I wished that it were me instead of Hotch.

Without warning, Emily pressed her index finger against my clit, making me jolt.

“Fuck!”

Emily snickered and started rubbing my clit faster.

“Mistress, I’m close. Please.”

“No.” She kissed the tip of my nose before pulling her touch away. I leaned forward to regain her touch, but she was already walking away. “Lemme fuck him,” she told Hotch, wiping some of the sweat off of Spencer’s forehead.

“I want to warm him up first,” Elle said eagerly. Hotch released Spencer from his mouth and pushed himself to his feet. “Turn him over.”

Morgan and Emily worked together to get Spencer on his knees on the floor, and they pressed his chest against the couch. Emily tugged at his leash to keep him distracted when he looked over at me with a painful, silent plea for help— help which I couldn’t give. He accepted his fate, closing his eyes as he waited for the next step.

“Let me hold him,” I begged. “Please. I’ll serve you all while I do it!”

Elle squirted some of the lube onto her index and middle fingers before rubbing them up and down Spencer’s slit. He tensed up. “Fine,” she said, still concentrating on him. “Come here.”

Morgan sat on the couch, his thigh just beside Spencer’s head so that we couldn’t make eye contact from where I was anymore. I started crawling towards all of them, letting Morgan pick up my leash when I was close enough so that he could tug me forward. He spread his legs so that I was sitting between his knees. “Suck,” he commanded, beginning to take his pants off.

I took the moment with nothing to do as an opportunity to finally turn my head to look at Spencer who still had his cheek pressed against the couch. I leaned down and kissed him. He perked up and started kissing me back. Just as it got more intense, the two of us fighting for dominance in our kiss, I felt him suddenly back down when Elle slid her fingers into his tight hole, causing him to moan against my lips. Our hands were still trapped behind our backs, so I couldn’t hold him steady to encourage him to keep kissing me, I couldn’t tangle my hands in his hair, and I couldn’t even reach to hold his hands as they struggled in his cuffs.

“Baby girl,” Morgan called, waiting for me.

“Stop ignoring him,” Hotch hissed, pushing my panties to the side and sliding his thumb into me. “Shit.” He sounded so turned on. “Fuck, baby.”

“You and bunny,” Elle chuckled. “The two of you can never hold it together. Pathetic.”

Spencer and I moaned happily in response to the degradation.

Morgan, now completely impatient, held my head between his palms, tore me away from Spencer, then turned my gaze before pushing my mouth onto his cock. He kept moving me until I gagged. I felt Spencer rut against the couch when Elle must have curled her fingers against his prostate or something, and I followed suit when I felt Hotch replace his short thumb with his long cock. I thought I was supposed to be facing punishment— Not that I was arguing. Even if I could talk, I wouldn’t have brought it up, because at least I finally got him. He always felt so good. He was so long, but not as thick as Morgan, not that it mattered. Both of them knew how to please me, and that was what mattered more than anything.

“Jesus, baby girl,” Morgan moaned, throwing his head back.

“He’s ready,” Elle said. Spencer whimpered when there was a loss of contact between them after she pulled out of him and stepped away, giving Emily room to kneel behind him and line up her cock with his ass. “Are you going to be good for us, bunny? No cumming?”

Spencer whined. “I don’t know, Ma’am.”

“Promise or we won’t fuck you.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” he insisted quickly, realizing his mistake. “I won’t cum. I promise.”

“Good boy.”

Suddenly, he was pushed forward when Emily roughly thrust into him. I pulled my mouth off Morgan long enough for me to catch my breath and moan as Hotch continued fucking me softly to torture me, and I looked over to see Emily showing no remorse with Spencer. Poor thing. Elle had stretched him, and Emily took a second to let him adjust, but now he was ruined. Absolutely destroyed. He was going to be wobbling on our way off the jet when we would land, I just knew it.

“I didn’t say you could stop, slut,” Morgan growled, grabbing me by the hair this time to make sure that I wouldn’t move away from him this time. I groaned as I took all of him in my mouth again. Just as he willed it, I bobbed my head up and down, my jaw slack, my tongue flat, my throat open to stop the gagging because he was using me as a hole and nothing else, and there was nothing I could do to stop it.

Hotch pissed me off suddenly by reaching under me to grab my breasts through my shirt, making me roll my hips eagerly against him. “So greedy.” He thrust roughly into me in an attempt to warn me off of acting out again, but I couldn’t help it. I wanted to cum. I had to cum. I needed some kind of relief. “Don’t you fucking dare—” He pulled out of me when he felt me tighten around him. “Brat.” He spanked me hard. “Elle.”

“I thought you understood that we didn’t train brats, baby,” Elle said, backing Hotch up. She teased her cleaned and re-lubed fingers at my ass now while Hotch realigned with my pussy. “You and bunny don’t get to cum.”

I moaned around Derek’s length as Elle and Hotch both thrusted into me simultaneously. He gave me every single inch he had to offer, making sure I felt just how big he was, the way he could reach deep places inside of me that made my knees weak every time. As for Elle, her approach had been a bit slower so that she could be safe. When her fingers were moving in me, she only put them in about half way before gently pulling them out and pushing them back in, this time all the way to the bottom knuckle, and then she curled her fingers. Morgan held me steady as I moaned around him again. The three of them working together to fill each of my holes was… I mean, they had all filled me further before, but this just felt so different… so good…

“Mmm—” Morgan bucked his hips up so that he could fuck my face harder. “I’m gonna cum.” He panted as his fingers gripped my hair harder. He let out a grunt as his whole body tensed, his orgasm finally hitting him like a train. As his cum spilled into my mouth, I used his hesitancy as a chance to finally move my tongue around, stimulating his shaft, making him twitch and squirm a bit more, and I hummed happily around him to make it even worse. They were torturing me, the least I could do was slyly return the favor. “Shit, baby!” He pulled me off before I could continue overstimulating. “Fuck.” His thumb caressed my cheek lovingly for a second. “Go on. Swallow.” I shook my head. I couldn’t. I couldn’t take anything more. I was so full, I felt like I was going to explode. He furrowed his brows. “Swallow, slut.” I kept shaking my head, and I tried to escape Elle and Hotch so that I could find somewhere to spit, but they held my hips still while Morgan grabbed my face. “Swallow.”

I searched his eyes for a moment, quickly realizing that he wasn’t going to release me until I did as he asked. Even if the jet landed and we were supposed to be getting off, probably to head back to mine and Hotch’s place to finish all of this, Morgan was going to sit there with me until I swallowed. I had no choice. While keeping my gaze even with his, I slowly swallowed the load he gave me. When I was done, I opened my mouth to prove my success, and he finally let go of me while grinning.

“Was that so hard?” he teased.

“Mistress,” Spencer moaned, his voice muffled somewhat, “I can’t take it anymore.”

Morgan and I looked away from each other to investigate what was happening, and it was just as our attention was brought to him that we saw Spencer slump as he gave up. Emily was still fucking him, don’t get me worng, but his poor, red, needy cock was leaking, begging for the cock rings to be taken off so that he could ejaculate— and he just couldn’t take the denial anymore. He couldn’t take being on the brink constantly. Holding his posture for her so that he could fuck his ass, keeping his head turned so that we could hear his pathetic noises, all of that meant nothing to him now. They had finally broken him.

“It hurts,” he complained.

“Color,” she whispered, brushing his curls back so that she could lean over his back and start kissing his neck lovingly.

“Green, but I can’t… I can’t… I’m gonna—”

“The two of you and not being able to hold it today,” Elle scolded, moving her fingers faster inside of my ass. “It’s like we need to teach you guys how to behave again and work on your stamina.”

Spencer and I quickly exchanged a worried glance. We hadn’t done stamina in so long. This was close, sure, but actual stamina training with Elle was the worst— especially if Hotch were there. They liked to tie me and Spencer up so that couldn’t move a single muscle, and then they’d press a vibrator against my clit while Spencer got the fleshlight. For hours, we would have to lay there, edging again and again as Hotch and Elle turned on my vibrator and started fucking the fleshlight over Spencer’s cock, and then they’d stop when we were close enough. It was torture. They purposefully gave us hard edges. The longer we went, the more rewards we earned for the week, but if we came, they ruined our orgasms before painfully continuing, and all of it was for the sake of increasing our stamina during sex and teaching us how to hold back our orgasms until we had permission. It worked after a while. Spencer was a lot worse at it than I was, but we finally got the hang of it, and the two of us were pretty good about holding out until we had proper permission; but there was just something about the atmosphere of being on the jet compared to being at someone’s house or in a hotel room that had our brains melted down to nothing. I had orgasmed once without permission, and there were multiple occasions while Hotch and Elle were fucking me from behind that I felt myself getting there again— and if they weren’t so good about pulling away on time to edge me, I would have cum again without permission, regardless of the punishment. But Spencer… He was trying so hard to be their good boy. He had touched himself without permission, which he knew wasn’t allowed, so he had accepted that he wasn’t allowed to cum, but those cock rings were straining against him, practically milking him considering the way he was leaking so helplessly; and it was just too much for him. He couldn’t take it anymore.

“Bunny, if you cum, we’re going to have to put you in your cage,” Emily warned.

“We should anyways,” Hotch panted from behind me.

Spencer shook his head urgently. “No. Please. I’ll be good. I- I prom… I promise.” He sighed as Emily changed her pace while fucking him. “I promise.” It sounded like he was crying now. “I promise…” Our little broken record. “I promise.” Not a single thought in that pretty head of his.

Hotch pulled out of me suddenly and he snatched away Elle’s fingers. My legs shook as my sudden, unexpected, unplanned orgasm was completely ruined. I hadn’t seen it coming. One second, I was watching Spencer fall apart, the next, I was clenching around nothing as my orgasm peaked yet I got no relief from the feeling since they had removed the stimulation when I needed it most. My clit was throbbing. I fell, just like Spencer, my cheek crashing against Morgan’s warm thigh.

“Their cuffs,” Hotch said pressingly. Morgan reached for his pants that were pooled at his ankles, and he grabbed the key from his pocket, then he handed it off to Hotch. “We’re done with you, baby girl,” he told me. I shook my head. I needed to cum. I had to… I had to cum… Geez, I felt as broken as Spencer looked. “Can you stand?” I shook my head again. “Okay…” He freed my hands and rubbed my wrists to ease the pain from every time I struggled against the metal bondings. “How bad is it?” he asked, taking my leash and gently tugging, a signal that he wanted me to turn around face him. I did so. When he saw my face, he chuckled, and Elle followed shortly, the two of them so impressed by how broken I must have looked. I knew that my hair was a mess, my eyes and bottom lip were pouting, and my legs were still shaking. I looked ridiculous. “That bad, princess?” He stroked his cock at the sight of me.

“Fuck them again like this,” Elle encouraged seductively in his ear. “Both of them on their backs…” she said a little louder so that everyone could hear her. “Taking what we give them.”

Hotch fell in love with the idea, immediately shooing Morgan off the couch so that he could throw me onto it. I yelped as I landed on the cushions. My right thigh was just next to Spencer’s face— so close that I could feel his pants against my skin— and Hotch, Elle, and Morgan were standing just in front of me, licking their hips with lust and hunger in their eyes. Hotch was still running his grip up and down his length at the sight of me.

“Look at the mess we made, bunny.” Morgan reached over and pulled at Spencer’s hair, pulling him upright so that his back was pressed flush against Emily’s chest as she used the new angle to fuck him harder and deeper. Spencer’s engorged penis twitched at the sight of me. My panties were soaked with a mixture of my wetness and cum. “Don’t they look so stupid?”

Spencer nodded while screwing his shut in response to Emily’s cock hitting a new spot inside of him. “Yes, Daddy. They look so good.”

I rolled my hips around, butterflies fluttering in my stomach. My whole body was on fire, and I just needed someone to touch me again. I needed to touch Spencer, which was the worst part, because I knew that they wouldn’t let me, and even if I could, a single touch was going to set him off, and I would’ve felt bad if they ruined him, too.

“You want me, baby?” Hotch teased, gliding his thumbs over my hard nipples through my shirt.

I nodded. “Yes, Sir.”

“You want me to breed you?”

I let out a shaky breath before gulping and nodding. “Yes, Sir.”

He stopped fucking with me and he instead went back to stroking his cock. “I know you want to cum, baby,” he cooed, “but you can’t… Rules are rules.” He started fucking his fist faster. “Good girls get to cum.” His breath was ragged now. “You weren’t good.”

Elle grabbed his face and turned him so that they were suddenly kissing, and he pushed his hand past her pants and panties so that he could press a finger directly against her clit. They moaned together.

“I’m going to cum,” Spencer warned. Morgan was holding his leash taut, forcing Spencer to keep his back against Emily’s chest while she moaned into his neck and left a hundred different hickies. “Please. Please, Mistress.”

“No.”

“I can’t hold it.” He was leaking onto my knee now, that was how close together we were.

“I said, no. You cum, you get caged.”

“Fuck—” What Emily said did the opposite of what she had intended. Instead of deterring him from cumming, the threat of being locked up in a cock cage enticed Spencer, tipping him over the edge that he needed so badly. “I’m cumming!”

Just as his dick started twitching, Elle jumped into action, quickly grabbing my hips and turning me so that Spencer was lined up between my legs, and she pushed my panties to the side. Emily fucked harshly into Spencer as he started cumming. The force of her action jolted Spencer forward, putting his tip directly at my entrance. We both moaned at the feeling. I needed him, and it seemed he needed me, because when he felt how wet I was, his weak, repressed load slowly poured into me. He had tried to hold back. I could tell with how sad his orgasm was and how he was whimpering that he didn’t want to cum. He wanted to be good for them. But Emily fucking him, Morgan trying to choke him with the collar, the cock rings squeezing his penis and swollen balls, and my torture that he was witnessing was all too stimulating to every single one of his senses. He had to cum the same way I had to cum earlier when they denied my orgasm.

Emily stopped fucking him to make sure that the orgasm was shorter and to ensure that he didn’t go any further into me than necessary. They wanted his cum to be inside of me, but that was it. They didn’t want either of us to enjoy it.

Without warning, Hotch grabbed my hips away from Elle, putting me back where I was so that I was facing him, and he thrust into me suddenly, cumming within an instant, too. “Fuck…”

He came much harder than Spencer had because he wanted to give me everything, to fulfill the breeding kink we had. All I felt was the stretch and the warmth of his semen, though, because he refused to thrust to help ride out his high since it would have inevitably pleased me, too, and that wasn’t the point. He wanted me to be full and to get nothing out of it.

When he caught his breath, he pulled out of me slowly. I whined at the loss. “Did you learn a valuable lesson?” he questioned.

I nodded. “Yes, Sir.”

“Which was?”

“No cumming without permission. Ever. Under any circumstances. My orgasms don’t belong to me.”

“Good girl. Go clean yourself up in the bathroom then come back for water, a snack, and play with Spencer’s hair.” He leaned down and kissed the top of my head. “I’m proud of you, baby.”

I melted at the praise. “Really, Sir? Even though I broke a thousand rules?”

“Even then. You did good.”

Emily got the cuffs off Spencer, and he immediately went to pry off the cock rings, but Morgan slapped his hands away. Spencer stared at me as Morgan started gently pulling off the metal one around his shaft. “Daddy,” he hissed, his eyes clenching shut. Emily and Elle were running their fingers through Spencer’s hair already to help him calm down. “Fuck,” he gasped when it was off. “Thank you.” He then prepared himself as Morgan went to release the tie that was around Spencer’s balls. When the pressure was gone, Spencer slumped, falling somewhat, and we all reached forward to catch him. “Thank you.” Hotch kissed Spencer’s temple and pulled him onto his lap on the couch. “I’m sorry for cumming without permission.”

“We’ll call it even, bunny,” Morgan said, referencing how I had done the same thing. “You and baby did so well.”

Elle grabbed the lotion from Spencer’s bag that he used for aftercare, and she started massaging it between his cheeks as Hotch continued to hold him. “You, too,” she told me while still tending to Spence. I went to sit down, but Emily beat me to it, taking the only spot left beside Hotch, and she patted her hands on her lap. I laid over her the same way Spencer was on Hotch. Our faces were close again.

“May we?” Spencer begged.

“Yes,” Morgan answered.

Just as Elle started using her other hand to massage some lotion onto my ass, Spencer and I started kissing. He tasted so good. It was comforting rather than erotic, and I felt myself slowly easing out of sub space in a way that didn’t let me drop. I hoped that he was okay, too.

I ran my fingers through his curls. “I love you, Spence.”

He kissed me harder before mumbling, “I love you, too.”

----

criminal minds family: @peggy1999 @gorgeousdarkangel @alex--awesome--22 @oceaneblu @brithedemonspawn @absolutemarveltrash @bshelley322 @rousethemouse @sunshinepower17 @weexinling @pettttyyyc @Braty-angel

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mk-tozier · 3 years

Text

Welcome Newcomers!

I am redoing this for many reasons!

Hello newcomers, i am Kai. I use they/them pronouns. I am pansexual and genderqueer

if you are anti-lgbtq, racist or ableist get off my tumblr.

I will not write anything discriminatory

I write imagines, headcannons, smut and reblog various posts. I do take requests but it varies between being open and closed, make sure to check my bio to know whether my requests are opened or not. Usually I only close requests to catch up.

You can always send a scenario in just to talk about or maybe you just wanna talk abt your day, whether requests are open or closed I will always take these and I will always respond!!

I’ve decided that I will open requests for a month or two and then close them and take a month or two to catch up on those requests.

So there will be a fic every 1-2 months.

I will not write certain things if they make me uncomfortable. i write for the characters in the list below but you can of course, request a character. If i feel uncomfortable with this scenario or character, or do not know that character i will not write the request.

You can request platonic x readers or sibling x readers, ect

please read everything so you know the requirements and what i write for.

I am always updating this list so make sure to check for changes!

FANDOMS/CHARACTERS I WRITE FOR

CELEBRITIES

Colby brock

pete davidson

DOAWK

Rodrick Heffley

Richie tozier

Bill denbrough

Stanley uris

Beverly marsh

CRIMINAL MINDS

Penelope Garcia

Derek morgan

Agent Hotchner

Spencer Reid

COBRA KAI

Miguel

Hawk

STRANGER THINGS

Mike wheeler

Dustin Henderson

Max Mayfield

Steve Harrington

Robin Buckley

Will byers

JULIE AND THE PHANTOMS

Luke

Flynn

Julie

Reggie

HARRY POTTER

Draco Malfoy

Fred weasley

George Weasley

Hermione Granger

ONE DAY AT A TIME

Alex Alvarez

Elena Alvarez

SHAMELESS

Carl Gallagher

Lip Gallagher (i personally dont like Lip but I’ll write for him)

Fiona Gallagher

Ian Gallagher (i will not write ANY smut for Ian)

Mickey Gallagher (i wont write ANY smut for mickey + platonic only)

MY HERO ACADEMIA

Katsuki Bakugou

Izuku Midoria

Denkt Kaminari

Eijiro Kirishima

Shoto Todoroki

Kyouka Jirou

Mina Ashido

‘DEATH NOTE

Light Yagami

BIRDS OF PREY

Harley Quinn

Black Canary

Huntress

BLUE EXORCIST

Rin Okumura

Shima Renzo

Kirigakure Shura

MY BABYSITTERS A VAMPIRE

rory

benny weir

ethan morgan

sarah

erica

FEAR STREET

young ziggy

young nick

josh

deena

MCU

Tony stark

Peter Parker (toms version sorry lol)

Black widow/Natasha

Thor

Pietro

Wanda

REQUESTS:

I write angst, blurbs, fluff and smut

please give me a fandom, character, whether you want it to be an imagine.small Drabble. headcannon or smut and basic plotline, details you may want added

i.e “hi I’d like to request a IT imagine with Richie where he gets mad at the reader for getting a boyfriend“

i try to make my imagines for everyone so i wont be doing certain details like eye color, hair color, race, ect

all though you can request a fic where The reader has a certain body type and the focus of the fic is that

i.e “hey I wanna request a shameless smut with Carl where the reader is insecure about their body because they are on the heavier side and have stretch marks and carl helps them feel better about themselves?”

i will not be writing for a particular race because i am white and i would feel uncomfortable writing as a certain race because i have not experienced their experiences nor am i that race and fully informed with certain cultures. I feel as if itd be out of my place to write as a certain race knowing i am not that race.

I don’t write mlm. I am not mlm and do not know how to write these experiences. and I definitely will not write ANY mlm smut whatsoever.

All though i will write wlw and nblw smut. As i am afab/nonbinary

I will write bi!characterxreaders for characters such as Ian Gallagher but i will not write smuts for those characters. I dont feel comfortable writing smut for a character who is originally gay and its stated in the show/movie that the character is in fact gay. Especially if that character is male.

SMUTS/NSFW HEADCANNONS:

i will not write the following

ageplay

blood kinks

piss or shit

incest

rape/non-consent

heavy beating/spanking

animal Kinks

anything furry related

anal play

mlm/amab

piss kinks

any fetishes

if you wanna request something that is not on either list then request it and i will let you know if I’m uncomfortable with writing it or not

what i will write

degrading

praising

quirk related smuts (i.e denki uses his quirk on you during the smut)

wlw/afab

light bondage

light spanking

teasing

edging

overstimulation

CNC (consented-non-consent)

oral

Requirements for smut:

tell me fandom, character, basic plot line/what you want, tell me any specific details you may want, smut with plot or no plot

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aot-brainrot · 3 years

Text

Bunny and Baby ~ Poly!BAU Team

(Full version for a smaller audience. You can check out the edited version on @imagineaworlds)

Written By: @desperately-bisexual

Request: None.

Warnings: Dom/sub relationships, Sir kink, Mistress kink, Ma’am kink, Daddy kink, dirty talk, restraints (handcuffs), collaring, leashes, edging, orgasm control, orgasm denial, bladder control, degradation, mild choking, control, pegging, impregnation/breeding kink, minimal in-chapter aftercare, though it is alluded to happening afterwards. The reader does go by they/them pronouns, however, the team refers to them as female when saying “good girl”, “princess”, etc.

Pairing: Nonbinary!Reader (fem anatomy) x BAU Team.

Dynamic (in order of superiority): Sir!Dom!Aaron Hotchner, Ma’am!Dom!Elle Greenaway, Mistress!Dom!Emily Prentiss, Daddy!Dom!Derek Morgan, switch!Reader (sub in this plot), bunny!sub!Spencer Reid.

Word Count: 9700

Criminal Minds Discord Server

“Sir—” I tried to explain myself quietly so that the others couldn’t hear, but he shook his head, silently telling me to stop. I fell silent and gulped.

“Don’t make a sound,” he whispered to me. I was surprised Morgan didn’t hear him.

“Sir, please,” I whispered. “Please.”

“Please, may I cum?”

“Ask Mistress first.”

Her mouth fell agape in shock when she realized what it was that Hotch was doing and why I was asking. She looked between me and Hotch. “Have they been good?” she asked him.

“No,” he said nonchalantly.

“Then, no, you may not cum, slut,” she said to me.

I whimpered and increased my grip on the table until my knuckles were turning white. “Please! I’m not going to last!”

“You cum, you get punished,” Morgan said.

“Fuck…” I tried wiggling away from Hotch, but it was useless since I was trapped in the seat next to the window. “Please…” I was breathless now. “Please… I can’t…”

“And what are you doing?” Elle questioned roughly, squinting at Spencer, scolding him for something I couldn’t see.

Spencer floundered and stuttered from the couch. “I— Um. Nothing, Ma’am. I’m sorry. It was nothing.”

“Doesn’t look like nothing.”

“No,” he answered, also disappointed in us.

“We didn’t train brats,” she hissed, pulling at Spencer’s hair again, making him whimper.

“His headache, Elle—” Emily warned quickly.

Elle froze when she remembered, and she tried removing her grip from Spencer, suddenly aware of how she might have hurt him in her fit of anger. “I’m sorry, Spence—”

But he cut her off by gently taking her wrist and leading her touch back to his hair, encouraging to pull again. “It’s gone.”

“Don’t lie, bunny.”

“I’m not, Ma’am.”

She smirked and tugged again, bringing him to his knees. “Then the two of you have no excuse for misbehaving. Their punishment, Morgan.”

In fact, it made him chuckle. “Princess, you did this to yourself.”

“Daddy, I’m sorry… Please… I didn’t mean to cum.”

“Then, you should have held it like good girls do.”

“Their punishment, Derek,” Hotch reminded.

“Hands behind your back,” he demanded.

Spencer nodded. “Yes, Daddy.”

“Don’t be like them.”

“Presentation,” Morgan whispered in my ear. So, that was what the other overhead bin had been. Hotch had probably gone digging for my collar, too.

My eyes widened even further. “Wait. No. Please—” I struggled against the cuffs, wiggling around on the ground as I made a desperate attempt to free myself with no such luck. I knew what was coming. I hated it. I didn’t want them to have the satisfaction of watching me struggle uncomfortably later while they laughed at me. I didn’t— “Mistress, please,” I begged as Emily sat in Hotch’s seat so that she was right beside me. “Please, anything else.”

“Color, baby girl,” she said calmly. She wasn’t as frustrated as the others, I could tell. That was the nice thing about her. As wicked as she could be, her emotions were usually opposite to Elle’s. When Elle was mad, Emily was calm. When Emily was mad, Elle was… well, she was still mad, but she made an attempt to restrain herself.

I pouted. “Green.”

“Then, open your mouth.” She held my jaw as I opened up and tilted my head back somewhat, waiting as she unscrewed the cap of the water bottle in her hands. She had one with her, but Hotch was setting two more down next to his iPad on the table. “Tap Morgan’s leg for Colors.” I felt Morgan press his shin against my back so that my fingers were near his ankles in case I needed to have them slow down or stop.

Emily started slowly pouring the water into my mouth. When I couldn’t hold anymore, she stopped, giving me a chance to swallow. And then she did it again. We kept going until the entire bottle was finished, and even then, she grabbed the next bottle, unscrewed the cap, and started pouring. It was half way through the bottle when I started to feel it. The uncomfortable feeling in my stomach that told me that I was going to have to pee soon, and I whimpered, tapping Morgan’s ankle to tell them that I needed them to slow down.

Emily stopped pouring. “What is it, princess?” she asked.

“I’m already there…” I shamefully admitted.

“Full?”

I shook my head.

“Then, keep going.”

I reluctantly opened my mouth again and let Emily continue her work, getting to the end of the second bottle before she decided that I had enough. They were going to save the last bottle. Certainly, there were more in the fridge where the bar was at the back of the jet, but they would grab them as needed. For now, two was enough, later, they would give me a third, and when it got really bad, they would grab more if they had to. I didn’t want the third one, though. I already had to go, and because of it, I could feel myself actually getting wet again, a sign that I was going to be miserable for my entire punishment.

The point of making me drink was that the feeling of being full aroused me the same way it would if I were filled with Hotch or Morgan’s cocks, or Emily or Elle’s straps. It was the same build that came with needing to orgasm. They controlled my orgasms the same way they controlled… well, when I could go. They made me hold my orgasms the same way they made me hold this— and both were painful to keep back. I was fortunate, however, unlike Spencer, to know that I had never actually released without permission, in front of them, or during a scene at all. Spencer, on the other hand… The poor thing. He could never hold it when Morgan would grab his hips and slide inside of him. The pressure on his prostate and his bladder was always just too much.

Eventually, they’d let me go, but they’d wait long enough until I was squirming. I mean, they weren’t going to hurt me. Since Morgan had chosen this as my punishment, they were all going to have to keep an eye on me to make sure I wasn’t actually in pain because this could be a dangerous punishment if not properly handled; but I trusted them. If they weren’t going to let me cum, they at least had to let me pee— which felt just as good as letting go of my orgasms.

“Bunny’s so hard…” Elle teased, pulling on Spencer’s leash to have him lean back against her thighs. “Did it turn you on to watch Mistress make princess drink?”

“Yes, Ma’am,” he admitted.

“You’re lucky that you only palmed yourself without permission. If you would have done anything worse, we’d be making you drink, too. What do you say to us for sparing you that torture?”

“Thank you.”

“Good boy.”

“Let’s move them to the front,” Morgan told Elle so that she could pull Spencer onto the couch to give him room to make me crawl towards the front of the jet where no one would bother me. I whimpered when I felt how full I was while on all fours. I already hated it. “Go on,” he encouraged. I started crawling, and when I made it where he wanted me, he had me turn around so that I was facing the entirety of the team. “Now, you get to sit here and watch.”

“Daddy?” I questioned, unsure of what he meant.

“And not talk.” He crouched and kissed me gently. “This is what you get for breaking the rules.”

“No.” He stood back up.

“Don’t let him edge,” Emily warned as Elle continued to play with Spencer inside of his underwear.

“Aw,” Elle cooed with false sympathy against his cheekbone, “is bunny already close?”

He nodded eagerly while pulling away from his kiss with Hotch. “Yes, Ma’am.”

“Well, I think it’s only fair to make you ask Mistress for permission the same way Y/N had to.”

He turned his head to look up at Emily. “Please, Mistress?” He sounded just as desperate and pathetic as I had. “May I cum?”

“Please,” he pleaded. “Something. Anything. Please.”

“I know,” he grumbled. “I know.”

He pulled out three things, holding them up long enough for me to inspect from where I was kneeling on the opposite side of the jet. The red strap on that Emily loved to fuck Spence with, a bottle of lube to help him take her easier, and the worst part… Honestly, I didn’t know what was worse, what I was enduring while my bladder got worse or what torture was awaiting Spencer with the last toy Hotch retrieved. I didn’t even realize Emily carried it around with her. How did she even think to bring such a thing? I mean, I understood the red strap and the lube, but… that? I almost felt bad for Spencer. At least I got to cum earlier, even though I wasn’t supposed to, and I was going to get a chance to go to the bathroom after all of this, so I’d have two releases, but it seemed like they didn’t want Spencer to cum at all. I felt sorry for him. If I wasn’t so far into sub space, I probably would’ve snickered with the rest of them, thinking about all of the wicked ways I could have tortured him with it, but… No, I couldn’t while we were both being punished.

“If you want to touch so bad,” Hotch said while returning to the couch, “then we’ll touch.” Spencer’s eyes widened when he saw the last toy. “But we won’t let you cum.”

I felt my stomach fill out a bit more. I tried sitting back on my feet to relieve the tight feeling that being upright or tilting forward caused, but Morgan caught my movement out of the corner of his eye, and he glared over at me. I knew what he was going to say before he could even open his mouth. “Daddy, I can’t.”

“I don’t care. Sit up.”

I adjusted, my panties rubbing flat against my clit, the waistband of said panties moving just under my stomach, making me feel the sweet torture of my full bladder being teased. I moaned, “Fuck…”

“Does it feel good?”

I shook my head. “Please, just let me go pee real quick. I’ll come back and sit here quietly like a good girl.”

“The next bottle, Em.”

I cried, “No!” The more I struggled against the cuffs, I felt my bladder swell, making the urge to pee worse. “Please!”

“Sir—” Spencer moaned pleasantly as Hotch suddenly dipped down and wrapped his lips around Spencer’s cock. “Thank you, Sir.”

Emily came over with the last bottle of water. “We won’t make you hold it much longer,” she whispered as she unscrewed the cap. Subconsciously, I already knew what she told me because it wasn’t safe to hold it back much longer, but hearing it from her was still a relief that made me sigh gratefully. “Open.” I tilted my head up and opened my mouth. “Keep your eyes on Spence.” My gaze was narrowed down my cheeks and my nose so that I could watch as Hotch slowly licked his tongue around Spencer’s sensitive tip that was still leaking pre-cum. I knew he tasted good. I knew that he was probably a leaking, pathetic mess, and Hotch was enjoying every second of torturing him; and I wished that it were me instead of Hotch, but I couldn’t do anything about it as Emily started making me drink. “Swallow.” I closed my mouth and slowly drank everything she had poured. “Breathe,” she cooed when she caught me panting afterwards. “You’re okay.”

I immediately felt my bladder swell again. “Mistress, I can’t take it anymore…”

“You’ve done more before.”

“Alone with Sir, yes. I’ve never been overwhelmed like this before.”

“Open again.”

I did so. When she was done pouring, I swallowed again. It was getting even worse now. “I can’t—” Without warning, Emily pressed her index finger against my clit, making me jolt. “Fuck!” The stimulation was enough for my body to relax just enough for long enough that I let go for a moment. I caught myself just as it happened. “No, no, no, no—” Emily snickered and started rubbing my clit faster. I was so embarrassed by what had just happened, even though it could have been much worse, but all of that embarrassment was clouded by the fact that it felt so good to be touched after Morgan gave me the impression that none of them were going to touch me for the rest of the flight. “Mistress, I’m close.” Because of my full bladder, the truth was, the urge to pee mixed with the urge to cum, which only quickened my edge. “Please.”

“No.” She kissed the tip of my nose before pulling her touch away. I leaned forward to regain her touch, but she was already walking away, and I cried again as I felt my entirely full bladder swell my belly. “Lemme fuck him,” she told Hotch, wiping some of the sweat off of Spencer’s forehead.

“I want to warm him up first,” Elle said eagerly. Hotch released Spencer from his mouth and pushed himself to his feet. “Turn him over.”

“Let me hold him,” I begged. “Please. I’ll serve you all while I do it!”

Elle squirted some of the lube onto her index and middle fingers before rubbing them up and down Spencer’s slit. He tensed up. “Fine,” she said, still concentrating on him. “Come here.”

“Baby girl,” Morgan called, waiting for me.

“Stop ignoring him,” Hotch hissed, pushing my panties to the side and sliding his thumb into me, pressing directly towards my bladder. I screamed in pain against Spencer when I felt myself let go a bit more. “Shit.” He sounded so turned on. “Fuck, baby.”

“You and bunny,” Elle chuckled. “The two of you can never hold it together. Pathetic.”

Spencer and I moaned happily in response to the degradation.

Morgan, now completely impatient, held my head between his palms, tore me away from Spencer, then turned my gaze before pushing my mouth onto his cock. He kept moving me until I gagged. I felt Spencer rut against the couch when Elle must have curled her fingers against his prostate or something, and I followed suit when I felt Hotch replace his short thumb with his long cock. I thought I was supposed to be facing punishment— Not that I was arguing. Even if I could talk, I wouldn’t have brought it up, because as painful as my bladder felt, at least I finally got him. He always felt so good. He was so long, but not as thick as Morgan, not that it mattered. Both of them knew how to please me, and that was what mattered more than anything.

“Jesus, baby girl,” Morgan moaned, throwing his head back.

Spencer whined. “I don’t know, Ma’am.”

“Promise or we won’t fuck you.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” he insisted quickly, realizing his mistake. “I won’t cum. I promise.”

“Good boy.”

Hotch pissed me off suddenly by reaching under me to grab my breasts through my shirt, and when I thought that his intentions were pleasant, he threw me for a loop by caressing my inflated stomach. He chuckled. “So full…” He massaged the sensitive part of my torso where my bladder was, making me roll my hips eagerly against him. “And so greedy.” He thrust roughly into me in an attempt to warn me off of acting out again, but I couldn’t help it. The need to pee was too similar to the need to cum, the two feelings were blended together now, so when he teased my stomach, I wanted to cum. I had to cum. I needed some kind of relief. “Don’t you fucking dare—” He pulled out of me when he felt me tighten around him. “Brat.” He spanked me hard. “Elle.”

“Was that so hard?” he teased.

“Mistress,” Spencer moaned, his voice muffled somewhat, “I can’t take it anymore.”

“It hurts,” he complained.

“Color,” she whispered, brushing his curls back so that she could lean over his back and start kissing his neck lovingly.

“Green, but I can’t… I can’t… I’m gonna—”

“Bunny, if you cum, we’re going to have to put you in your cage,” Emily warned.

“We should anyways,” Hotch panted from behind me.

Hotch pulled out of me suddenly and he snatched away Elle’s fingers. My legs shook as my sudden, unexpected, unplanned orgasm was completely ruined. I hadn’t seen it coming. One second, I was watching Spencer fall apart, the next, I was clenching around nothing as my orgasm peaked yet I got no relief from the feeling since they had removed the stimulation when I needed it most. My clit was throbbing. I felt myself leak just a bit more, my bladder warming up at the feeling. I fell, just like Spencer, my cheek crashing against Morgan’s warm thigh.

“Their cuffs,” Hotch said pressingly. Morgan reached for his pants that were pooled at his ankles, and he grabbed the key from his pocket, then he handed it off to Hotch. “We’re done with you, baby girl,” he told me. I shook my head. I needed to cum. I had to… I had to cum… Geez, I felt as broken as Spencer looked. “Can you stand?” I shook my head again. “Okay…” He freed my hands and rubbed my wrists to ease the pain from every time I struggled against the metal bondings. “How bad is it?” he asked, taking my leash and gently tugging, a signal that he wanted me to turn around face him. I did so. When he saw my face, he chuckled, and Elle followed shortly, the two of them so impressed by how broken I must have looked. I knew that my hair was a mess, my eyes and bottom lip were pouting, my legs were still shaking, and I was so bloated. I looked ridiculous. “That bad, princess?” He stroked his cock at the sight of me.

“Fuck them again like this,” Elle encouraged seductively in his ear. “Both of them on their backs…” she said a little louder so that everyone could hear her. “Taking what we give them.”

Spencer nodded while screwing his shut in response to Emily’s cock hitting a new spot inside of him. “Yes, Daddy. They look so good.”

I rolled my hips around, butterflies fluttering in my stomach— or maybe that was the urge to pee just getting worse. Regardless, though, my whole body was on fire, and I just needed someone to touch me again. I needed to touch Spencer, which was the worst part, because I knew that they wouldn’t let me, and even if I could, a single touch was going to set him off, and I would’ve felt bad if they ruined him, too.

“You want me, baby?” Hotch teased, gliding his thumbs over my hard nipples through my shirt.

I nodded. “Yes, Sir.”

“You want me to breed you?”

I let out a shaky breath before gulping and nodding. “Yes, Sir.”

“You wanna be fuller than you are now, huh?” His hands worked their way down to my stomach where he started massaging his thumbs in, finding my bladder without any problems. “So fucking full. It’s gotta be uncomfortable, baby, I know… But you did this to yourself.”

“Sir—” I tried moving away from him in an attempt to make him stop teasing my bladder, but I couldn’t escape. “I won’t hold it if you keep doing that.”

I didn’t want to be like Spence. As much as I loved him, I didn’t want to share his embarrassment of peeing myself like he had. The first time it happened, we were all together for Elle’s birthday. Spencer had been acting up during dinner, touching her when he wasn’t supposed to, speaking out of turn, giving me lip when I told him to be careful. We weren’t having it. When we got to Elle’s place, he complained that he had to pee before we started, but Hotch pinned him to the wall with a large hand around his throat, making Spencer’s eyes widen as he started apologizing profusely. Hotch didn’t let him go. For being a brat at dinner, the consensus was that we were going to take turns fucking him and cumming inside of him while he had to hold it. He hated it. He was already bloated from dinner, but when we fucked into him, we could see our cocks through his tummy as we were thrusting in and out of him. As I said before, it was always when Morgan finally got to fuck him that Spencer let go. It was something about the girth I was pretty sure, because out of him, Hotch, and the straps Em, Elle, and I had, Morgan was the thickest, which meant that he always stretched me and Spencer, so it was no surprise that Spencer immediately let go when it happened. He cried at the humiliation. He couldn’t believe he had done that while we were all watching— and what was worse to him was that we liked it. We liked that it degraded him.And even worse than that was that he liked it. It made him hard, and when Hotch started to jerk him off, it wasn’t long until he was begging to cum. I was the one who took mercy on him. I gave him permission before the others could argue, and Spencer immediately fell apart.

I didn’t want to be the one who felt Hotch fill me up and I couldn’t help but let go, and they would laugh at me. I could tell how embarrassed I’d be. Hotch seemed to take mercy on me the same way I had with Spencer back then. He stopped fucking with me when I was practically in tears, and he instead went back to stroking his cock.

“I know you want to cum, baby,” he cooed, “but you can’t… Rules are rules.” He started fucking his fist faster. “Good girls get to cum.” His breath was ragged now. “You weren’t good.”

“No.”

“I can’t hold it.” He was leaking onto my knee now, that was how close together we were.

“I said, no. You cum, you get caged.”

Without warning, Hotch grabbed my hips away from Elle, putting me back where I was so that I was facing him, and he thrust into me suddenly, cumming within an instant, too. “Fuck…”

When he caught his breath, he pulled out of me slowly. I whined at the loss. “You can go now.”

My eyes widened for a second as I registered what he said, but once I dawned on me, I didn’t hesitate. Despite my still weak legs, I pushed myself off the couch and I ran straight for the small bathroom at the back of the jet. I held onto the counter in front of me as I finally released everything that had been building. It felt just as good as an orgasm, if I were being honest. Holding it like that, being teased and denied by my Doms like that… It was just as painful as being edged, but getting to release was just as rewarding as an orgasm.

The door opened suddenly to reveal Hotch standing there, fully clothed, his arms crossed over his chest. I tried hiding myself by clasping my hands together over my crotch. “Did you learn a valuable lesson?”

I nodded. “Yes, Sir.”

“Which was?”

“No cumming without permission. Ever. Under any circumstances. My orgasms don’t belong to me.” I felt another wave of liquid pressing against my weak bladder, but I tried my best to hold it back since he was still standing there.

“Next time, I will make you go in front of them. Understood?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Clean yourself up then come back for water—”

“Sir—”

“Not for that,” he said with a chuckle. “Water, a snack, and play with Spencer’s hair.” He leaned down and kissed the top of my head. “I’m proud of you, baby.”

I melted at the praise. “Really, Sir? Even though I broke a thousand rules?”

“Even then. You did good.” He closed the door again and walked off, giving me the chance to release again.

When I was finished, I stood and cleaned myself, using the washcloths under the sink to clean up between my thighs. Usually, one of them would have helped, but the jet was too small, and the bathroom was only big enough for one person. I had to do this part on my own. When I was washed and dried, however, I made my way back into the main cabin, finding Emily racing to get the cuffs off Spencer. The second he was free, he immediately went to pry off the cock rings, but Morgan slapped his hands away. Spencer stared at me as Morgan started gently pulling off the metal one around his shaft. “Daddy,” he hissed, his eyes clenching shut. Emily and Elle were running their fingers through Spencer’s hair already to help him calm down. “Fuck,” he gasped when it was off. “Thank you.” He then prepared himself as Morgan went to release the tie that was around Spencer’s balls. When the pressure was gone, Spencer slumped, falling somewhat, and we all reached forward to catch him. “Thank you.” Hotch kissed Spencer’s temple and pulled him onto his lap on the couch. “I’m sorry for cumming without permission.”

“We’ll call it even, bunny,” Morgan said, referencing how I had done the same thing. “You and baby did so well.”

“May we?” Spencer begged.

“Yes,” Morgan answered.

I ran my fingers through his curls. “I love you, Spence.”

He kissed me harder before mumbling, “I love you, too.”

#mine #fanfic #hotch #elle #emily #morgan #reader #spencer #sub!spencer #sub!reader

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graygublerreid · 7 years

Text

Feeling like a clown

🌼REQUESTED! I HOPE YOU WILL LIKE IT🌼

CRIMINAL MINDS; SPENCER REID X READER

Prompt: the reader is nonbinary and Spencer comforts her when she is overwhelmed because of people’s meanness.

@paradiselover-18 @overcastmisfitkid

~~~~~~~~~~

Hotchner, Jennifer and you were going to the crime scene where the officer of the city was waiting for you. In fact, when you arrived he was asking where the BAU was.

“We’re right here Chief Wilson.” Jennifer said shaking the man’s hand “I am Agent Jereau, he is Chief Hotchner and they are Agent (y/l/n).”

He looked at you confused. That’s how people always reacted at the way your team referred to you. You were more comfortable with it, but it seemed that people were not.

Wilson must have called his colleagues, because when you arrived at the police station to meet the rest of your team, everyone were snickering at you. Like you were a clown. But you were just (y/n).

All day was like this. Laughs and strange looks were referred to you and at the end, you had to leave that place.

“Hotch? I know the day is still not finished, but can I go to the hotel? You know, I… tired.”

Hotch knew what you were tired off, but he didn’t want to force you to talk so he told you it was ok of you leaving.

You really couldn’t understand why people had to act in that way. You tried to answer that question staring at the stars looking out of your hotel window. You were so into your thoughts that when someone knocked at your door you got scared.

Spencer was standing in front of your door, wearing his pyjama and a book on his hand.

“Can I come in?”

Of course he could. He was the one who could understand you more than everyone else and of course he knew why you left work early.

You two sat on the edge of the bed, your legs were touching as your arms were. You were grate he came.

“You know, we talked to the policemen when you left.”

“What do you mean?”

“Hotch told them to stop to act like children and Morgan almost did threat to beat them.”

You chuckled at Derek’s protectiveness.

“And what did you say?”

He was smiling while saying that.

“I said that you are the most wonderful person who can ever exist and you don’t deserve to be treated like this. I also said that I know how to use a gun.”

At his words you laughed more. He always know how to make you forget about your unhappiness.

“I am serious (y/n). You are wonderful, no matter what. And I am glad to have you in my life.”

You smiled because there was no reply to his sweet words. You were glad too to have someone like Spencer in your life.

#spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid imagines #spencer reid x reader #reid #reid imagine #reid imagines #reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds imagines #criminal minds x reader

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imagineaworlds · 3 years

Text

I Had a Dream (Part Six) -- BAU Team

“Broken and Used”

Written By: @desperately-bisexual

Request: None.

Warnings: Sir kink, Dom/sub relationship, Mistress kink, Master kink, dirty talk, bondage, BDSM, degradation, edging, fingering, oral (fem receiving), penetrative sex (using a condom), ball gag. The reader does go by they/them pronouns, however, the team refers to them as female when saying “good girl”.

Pairing: BAU team x Nonbinary!Reader (fem anatomy), Aaron Hotchner x Emily Prentiss, Jennifer Jareau x Emily Prentiss, Jennifer Jareau x Spencer Reid, Derek Morgan x Penelope Garcia

Word Count: 2203

“Look at me,” Reid demanded. My gaze immediately snapped to him. I watched as he stepped back towards the bed, then quickly stuck a single finger inside of me. “Who’s going to fuck you first?”

“I don’t… I don’t care…” I responded breathlessly, waiting for him to move his finger. I couldn’t focus on giving him a real answer when he was torturing me like this. The promise he made that no one would fuck me until I was broken had truly become my reality.

Reid curled his finger into my g-spot. “Choose.”

“You, Mister S. Please.”

His fingers slid out of me, and within an instant, he was kneeling between my thighs, unbuckling his belt as eagerly as he could. I readied myself for what was to come. Spotting Morgan and Garcia on the couch, he was busy cleaning her up, but I could tell that he was eager to approach the bed and tap in whenever Reid would be done with me. Hotch’s dream was about Morgan fucking me while they all pinned me— something I was sure was in my future. Until then, Reid’s turn had arrived. Since Rossi had taken a step back, leaving Reid to do whatever he wanted without a “teacher” hovering, Reid’s entire demeanor changed. He wasn’t obedient to anyone anymore.

Hotch handed Reid a condom. As Reid’s erection sprang free, I tugged at the ropes holding my hands back since a sudden urge to scratch my fingers down his back ran through me. Not being able to touch him made it worse, though. Reid smirked at my struggle. “You’re not going to stop this,” he growled in my ear. I whimpered. “Just… take it…” He slid his length into me as roughly as he possibly could. “Fuck��” he groaned as he bottomed out inside of me. “So fucking tight for my cock.”

“Mister—”

“Shut up,” he demanded, his hand wrapping around my neck. As he sat up straight, his hips snapped back until he was almost entirely out of me, his tip barely pressed against my lips. The loss made me whine. Reid rolled his hips in response to my eagerness that he wouldn’t give into.

“Taste them,” Emily whispered to JJ. I looked over to catch a glimpse of the brunette grabbing a fistful of the blonde’s hair, then forcing her to bend down until her breath was hovering over my clit. “Tongue out.”

JJ flattened her tongue and stuck it out. The second it made contact with my clit, I jolted, and Reid thrusted into me as far as he could without hitting JJ. I clenched around his cock. JJ wasn’t entirely sure about what to do. I could tell that she was trying to take tips from what Emily did to her, but it was easier said than done. Thankfully, Emily noticed, too, so she started guiding JJ with her grip fist around her hair. When JJ’s tongue flicked suddenly on my sensitive clit, I moaned and pulled at the restraints again.

“Shhh, princess,” Hotch cooed in my ear. I hadn’t even realized that he had knelt down next to the bed. “Just take his cock like a good girl.”

I threw my head back as JJ and Reid worked in tandem to please me. When Morgan came over to the bed with Garcia, that was when I realized just how quickly things were speeding up. Garcia’s fascination with my breasts returned, only this time I was incredibly sore since Emily pulled off the clamps, which meant that the second Garcia and Morgan both used a single hand to pinch one of my nipples each, I cried out.

“Gag them,” Rossi ordered from the couch.

“You wanna choose one for us, baby girl?” Morgan asked Garcia. She nodded. “Okay. Go.”

The gags were all stored away nearly in one of the drawers in the wardrobe. Hotch and I had just about every kind we could get our hands on. Rubber ball gags, plastic ball gags, O-gags, ties, bits, everything. Garcia pulled the drawer open, then hovered her fingers over all of the different options as she contemplated which one would suit me and their plans best. Finally, as Reid distracted me with a rough thrust followed by him squeezing palm around my neck, Garcia chose a purple rubber ball gag that had practically caught her attention from the get-go, it seemed. When I tried to moan, Reid tightened his grip.

He leaned over JJ so that she could keep lapping her tongue against my clit. Then, while staring into my eyes, he whispered, “You can’t help but be broken and used, huh?” I nodded, biting my lip to hold back every sound of pleasure that was building in my chest. “Is JJ going to make you cum on my cock?”

I literally didn’t know if I could cum again, despite the fact that my body felt worked up for another one. I was so weak. I had started off strong, tugging at the restraints again and again, but now I could hardly do anything but let them use me. And I liked knowing that. It turned me on to think that they could do anything they wanted to me for their pleasure, and there was nothing I could do to stop it. Reid liked it, too. He saw the pain in my eyes, and he smirked. The broken look in my eyes was enough to encourage his thrusts. He was already close, I could tell. He was panting harder while trying to maintain this facade of alpha male— something he didn’t regularly let anyone see. With JJ still flicking my clit, my walls kept tightening around Reid, practically motivating Reid to cum faster.

Even though he was wearing a condom, he still moaned into my ear, “You want me to cum in you?”

If my breeding kink hadn’t been clear enough before, I think the whole room finally understood once I nodded and melted again in response to his words. That one line— out of everything else anyone had said to me thus far— nearly forced me to cum again. In fact, if they hadn’t forced so many orgasms out of me before, I probably would have cum. I wanted to cum. My mind was begging to let me feel that euphoria, but my body was trapped. And that knowledge sent Reid over the edge.

As Reid came, Emily pulled JJ out of the way quickly so that his hips could snap all the way into me, and so that he could hold onto my neck for support as his thrusts became sloppy. I felt him twitch and spill into the condom. His orgasm peaked, making him groan gruffly in my ear, driving into me one last time and resting there for a moment as he came down from his high. And then he slumped slightly.

“Fuck…” He let go of my neck and kissed where his thumb had surely left a bruise.

When he pulled out of me, I whined at the loss. I hadn’t realized just how hard he was fucking me until he was gone, leaving me to clench desperately around nothing. Emily immediately moved JJ back against my sore pussy.

“Clean them up,” she demanded. JJ stuck out her tongue again, this time moving into a better position now that Reid was out of the way. After he got off the bed and pulled up his pants, Emily gestured to him, “Hold her.” Reid did as he was told, replacing Emily’s hold on the back of JJ’s head to make sure she stayed pressed against me. “Try edging them,” she said to JJ. While Reid held JJ who was moving to experiment by pressing her tongue against my entrance, Emily walked over to grab one of the strap ons that she liked because it could be filled with the fake cum, which we both liked.

“Like this…” Reid brought my attention back to him and JJ as he ever so gently brushed the pad of his middle finger over the very tip of my sensitive clit. I felt that more than anything. The numbness I felt from the overstimulation washed away with that one touch. It was so shocking and stimulating, that I bucked harder than ever before, crying out for them to stop. Reid chuckled. “See.”

Suddenly, Hotch leaned down to pull the rope against my hips tight to make sure I had no more wiggle room at all. “Stop thrashing,” he said to me.

“I can’t—” I was stopped short when JJ tested Reid’s method, lightly dragging her tongue up from my dripping hole to my clit. Her warm tongue barely passed over it. When I tried to fight against the restraints this time, I found that my hips wouldn’t move an inch. “I can’t,” I admitted this time with more defeat.

“Do you want us to stop touching you altogether?” Morgan asked threateningly.

I shook my head while sending him pleading eyes. “No, Daddy.”

“Then, stop complaining.”

Garcia smirked from beside him as she turned the ball gag in her hand. Now that no one was in her way, she could step forward. Morgan was with her the whole time, his hand resting against her lower back, both of them leaning over the bed so that he could watch as I opened my mouth and she carefully slid the gag in. When I was biting down on the rubber ball, Morgan showed her how to tighten the straps under my hair. Hotch lifted my head so that they could see what they were doing.

When I was completely gagged, the leather straps digging into my cheeks, I felt JJ and Reid both flick a single finger over my clit simultaneously. I jolted. Reid smacked my thigh as punishment, but also just because he could. And since Emily was finally ready, she had JJ move out of the way. Reid pulled her up by her ponytail, then immediately grabbed her face and made her kiss him so that he could taste me on her tongue. They moaned into each other’s mouths.

“Couch,” he mumbled against her lips. They stumbled around with him pushing her backwards until they hit the couch, which was out of my view now that Emily was standing in front of my right ankle.

My eyes met hers. Since I couldn’t talk anymore, I tried to send her a look that begged for mercy since I knew just how cruel she could be if she wanted to. Like Reid, all she did was smirk. To my surprise, she started undoing the rope on my right ankle. Hotch seemed to catch the hint, because the next thing I knew, he was walking over to undo my left ankle. Though my legs had been freed from the tight restraints, neither Hotch nor Emily let me snap my legs shut. That wasn’t because they wanted to continue torturing me— though that was certainly one reason— but because it would’ve done more damage than good if I had immediately moved my legs around after being immobilized like that. So, they held me still until I was calm and they knew I wouldn’t snap. Their hands gently left my ankles. When I didn’t close my legs to prevent them from seeing or touching me, I saw them smile and both of them quietly complimented me.

“Princes...” Emily cooed teasingly as she crawled onto the bed, the stiff strap on flailing around in front of her. “You want to cum so bad, don’t you? I mean, really cum… No more of those horrible edges and ruins.” I nodded and closed my eyes to ignore the tear running down my cheek. She snickered. “I know, baby…” She kissed away the tears. “If you take my cock, and you don’t move, I’ll think about making you cum for me as I cum in you…” I moaned thankfully. “But if you move at all, I’ll edge you again; and I know you’re still sensitive,” she reached between us to press three fingers against my clit, “so it’ll just hurt to edge you again.” I cocked a brow when she suddenly pressed forward, our chests touching, and she moaned into my ear. “Fuck—” I tried glancing over her shoulder. All I could see around her hair was Hotch towering behind her. And then my suspicions were confirmed when I heard, “Sir…” Her moan sounded just as pathetic as mine had been when Reid entered me. I suddenly understood. When she sat up, I saw the way her back pressed against his clothed chest, and their hips started to move in tandem in order to please one another. She reached up and behind her to run her fingers through his hair.

“Fuck them,” he whispered to her.

Her hands turned into fists, tugging at the strands of his long, brown hair. I saw him pull out of her slightly so that she could focus on leaning over me again slightly so that she could line up her tip with my entrance. “Don’t move, princess.”

I nodded and tried to respond with, “Yes, Mistress,” but the gag muffled it too much for anyone to understand.

------

criminal minds family: @gorgeousdarkangel @peggy1999 @alex--awesome--22 @oceaneblu @brithedemonspawn @absolutemarveltrash @bshelley322 @rousethemouse

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imagineaworlds · 3 years

Text

I Had a Dream (Part Four) -- BAU Team

“The Master”

Written By: @desperately-bisexual

Request: None.

Warnings: Sir kink, Dom/sub relationship, Mistress kink, Daddy kink, Master kink, dirty talk, bondage, BDSM, degradation, edging, nipple clamps, hitachi wand play, fingering. The reader does go by they/them pronouns, however, the team refers to them as female when saying “good girl”.

Pairing: BAU team x Nonbinary!Reader (fem anatomy), Emily Prentiss x Jennifer Jareau, Penelope Garcia x Derek Morgan

Word Count: 2457

“Good girl,” Hotch said from his seat. “Again.”

Garcia had already left to sit on the couch where Emily was peeling JJ’s clothes off her body. Morgan was leaning down to press his tongue against me, and Rossi was leading Reid over to the floggers on the wall to talk about something.

“Don’t squirm, baby girl,” Morgan whispered while his lips hovered over my aching clit. I nodded eagerly. As his tongue licked a slow stripe down then up my slit, I refrained from moving even an inch. When his fingers pressed into me again, I tried even harder. I was shaking. “Good girl.” He wrapped his lips around my clit.

My mouth fell agape. “Just like that, Daddy.”

He grinned against me. His tongue flicked on the tip of my clit, his fingers curled in me, and he moaned so roughly the vibrations sent chills up my spine. Still, I tried not to move. It was becoming nearly impossible to hold still as he kept finger fucking me harder and faster until my orgasm started to approach again. This time, I got smart, though. Last time, I warned them that I was close, even though Reid said he didn’t want me to cum. If I didn’t warn them this time, they’d never—

“No!” I cried, trying to wiggle around to find Morgan’s mouth and fingers after he pulled away. “Daddy, please.”

Morgan reached to pull the chain connecting the nipple clamps on my breasts. “You’re lucky I didn’t ruin your orgasm. What do you say to that?”

“Thank you, Daddy. Thank you for edging me.”

“You’re welcome, baby girl.”

That was when I first heard the buzz of a vibrator echo throughout the room. Morgan turned to look, and I lifted my head to see what was going on, too. I saw Garcia sitting on the couch— well, more like reclining back against the cushions, her legs spread, her toes curling around the carpet as she pressed the toy to her clit under her dress. Morgan smirked and got off the bed. I whined at the lack of attention; but I was secretly excited that Garcia was finally relaxed enough to get into it.

“You know, Reid, it’s actually much easier to break sluts when they’re tied up and helpless,” Rossi said, swinging a flogger through the air. “Morgan barely had to touch Y/N and they completely gave themself to us. That’s what makes a good, obedient, needy submissive.” Both Rossi and Reid approached the bed again. My breath hitched when I saw the hitachi wand in Spencer’s hands. “But the real trick is to give them pleasure, then take it all away when they least expect it. Edging it one thing, as Morgan proved…” Rossi carefully dragged the loose leather strips of the flogger up my thigh. “But torturing them until they’re screaming with a mixture of pleasure and pain…” He chuckled. “That’s when they’re really yours.” He pulled the flogger back before whipping it down on my stomach lightly. He was starting easy on purpose. That being said, it still stung like a bitch. I screamed. “Stop screaming.” I shut my mouth. “I want you to thank me.”

“I… Fuck… Thank you, Master.”

He handed another strike on my stomach. “Louder.”

“Thank you, Master!”

“They’ll do anything you say when they’re like this,” Rossi said to Reid. “Now, I want you to thank Sir for inviting us over,” he ordered me.

“Thank you—“ I yelped as Rossi struck me again with the flogger. “Thank you, Sir!” Another strike. “Thank you for inviting them over!”

“I bet if you touch them, they’ll be dripping onto the mattress,” he said to Reid again. He kept addressing Reid as though I weren’t there— or as though I was an object simply there for their entertainment. The worst part about it, however, was that he was right. Morgan’s edges had made a mess of me, but the pain coursing through me because of the nipple clamps and the flogging was making me desperate. “Go on. Touch them.”

Reid used one hand to hold the hitachi wand away from me, while he moved to run one finger up my slit. “Fuck.” He stared into my eyes. “Do you like knowing that we can do anything we want to you, and there’s nothing you can do to stop us?”

I nodded. “Yes, Mister S.”

He was suddenly kneeling between my legs, his whole body hovering over me, his hand finding its way to my neck. His face was close to mine. I could feel his breath on my nose, and I knew that if I dared to pick my head up the slightest bit, our lips would be pressed to each other. Reid must’ve seen the daring look in my eyes, though, because his hand squeezed on my neck. I was pinned to the pillows now. He hummed excitedly in my ear.

“No one’s going to fuck you until you’re weak and broken down to nothing,” he whispered in my ear. The vibrator in his hand started buzzing. “When you’re so limp you can’t fight, scream, moan, beg… That’s when we’ll finally stretch you until you can’t walk.”

I whimpered. “Please, Mister S… I promised to be good. I’ll do anything—“

“Shh…” He pressed the vibrator to my clit to make me stop talking. “Master’s trying to teach me a lesson. You need to be quiet so I can listen to him.” He released my neck. I gasped for air while he scrambled off the bed, the toy still pressed against my clit.

Rossi immediately flogged me again once Reid was out of the way. I bit down on my bottom lip to suppress a scream. “I told you. They’ll do anything.” He hit me again, this time with more power. When I writhed in pain, he paused, trying to profile my behavior. “Color.”

“Green, Master.”

He hit me again. “Good girl.” Another hit. “Turn it up.”

Reid fiddled with the settings on the side of the wand until the speed increased two fold. I quietly moaned. They both glared at me. I looked at them with apologetic eyes, but neither of them seemed to care. As punishment, Rossi started hitting my thighs back and forth, again and again. Reid pressed the toy harder against me.

I couldn’t help myself. “Fuck!”

“I’m close—“ I heard someone say. Rossi froze, Reid looked over his shoulder, and I lifted my head just in time to see JJ falling apart around Emily’s fingers. “Fuck—” she cried out breathlessly as her orgasm washed over her. Her fingers tangled themselves in Emily’s hair, pulling her close for a kiss. “Thank you, Mistress,” she mumbled against Emily’s lips.

The sight tugged me towards my own edge. I could feel the familiar knot in the pit of my stomach tightening with every second that passed with Reid pushing the vibrator against my clit while he watched the two girls please each other. I pressed against it lightly to earn more stimulation, hoping that Reid wouldn’t notice, but the second I moved an inch, his attention snapped back to me. Rossi turned, too.

He grinned to himself while watching me attempt to squirm for more while my orgasm kept building. “That’s their tell,” he said to Reid. “It’s painful to think that they won’t be allowed to cum, so they try to hide it by keeping quiet while simultaneously trying to steal more pleasure. Resisting the urge to cum is too hard to ignore after being stimulated for so long.” Reid used his free hand to hold my hips still against the mattress. “The longer we go without letting them cum, the faster their edges will approach. At some point, we’ll have to stop touching them altogether to make sure they don’t accidentally tip over the edge.”

My eyes widened. “Master—”

“We didn’t say you could talk,” he hissed before hitting me with the flogger again. I moaned in response that time. “Pain turns to pleasure.”

“They’re going to cum,” Spencer warned, digging his fingernails into my side. “Maybe we should ruin them.”

“It’s too early.”

“Oh, but ruining them would be so fun,” Emily pouted from the couch.

“They’re close,” Reid warned again.

Rossi grabbed Spencer’s wrist to pull the toy away from me as fast as possible. I tugged as hard as I could against the restraints, trying to find anyway possible out of my predicament. I just wanted to cum. Even if it meant doing it myself, I just wanted to feel the release and the pleasure that came from tipping over the edge. I couldn’t even count how many times they had gotten me so close to the end before stealing it all away from me. It was torture. It was a torture that I couldn’t stop, and they all loved knowing that.

I panted and relaxed again. The repetition of all of this was getting to me. Now that ruining my orgasms had come up, I doubted that they would let it go. Though Rossi was so far into his teacher roleplay with Reid that there was no chance he would go back on it yet, I knew that someone like Emily, or even JJ, could step in and ruin me without blinking. I prayed that Reid would somehow make a mistake before then. He was so close to letting me cum that last time. If he would’ve kept the wand pressed to my clit for even another second, he probably would’ve accidentally ruined me. Again, he was a textbook kind of guy. He could grasp the concept of what he needed to do, but he really needed Rossi to guide him through all of it. For some reason, though, that turned me on even more.

“Feel them,” Rossi instructed Reid. “Your fingers will slide in without any issue, I guarantee it.”

Reid released my hip and lined one of his long, slender fingers up with my entrance. “You’re right,” he groaned as he thrust it into me all the way to the bottom knuckle. I clenched around him. “Morgan’s right, too; they’re so tight.”

“Stretch them.”

Reid pushed another finger into me slowly. His index and middle fingers were long, but they weren’t thick like Hotch and Morgan’s. That didn’t stop Reid, though. He used the length to his advantage, slowly turning his palm over so that it was facing the ceiling, and then he curled his fingers up before spreading his fingers against my walls. I groaned and tightened around him in protest. He fought me, stretching me as far as he could, just as Rossi ordered. When I felt his ring finger also effortlessly thrust into me, that was when I stopped squeezing around him. He wanted me weak and broken, and he was winning at that. Asshole.

“You’re so wet for us, slut,” Reid laughed. “You must really like being treated like the whore you are.” I nodded. “Say it.”

“I like being treated like a whore.”

Reid groaned happily as he thrust his three fingers in and out of me at a painfully leisure pace. And then I felt him press the hitachi wand against my clit again. I met his gaze, a silent thank you, but nothing vocal because I was still trying to play his game. He hadn’t forgotten, either. He stretched me again before fucking his fingers in and out of me so fast and hard all I could do was screw my eyes shut and see stars.

“Don’t forget to share, Dave,” Hotch said from the corner.

Rossi rolled his eyes. “Getting there. There’s plenty of them to go around, if anyone wants to join.”

“I’ll take you up on that,” Emily snickered, standing from the couch where JJ was still puddy and trying to catch her breath.

I didn’t even realize that Morgan was working to please both Garcia and JJ at the same time, even as Emily stepped away to approach me. JJ’s breath hitched again when Morgan wrapped his lips around her right nipple since his fingers were a little busy with Garcia. His thumb was pressed against the vibrator on her clit, holding it in place, meanwhile his index and middle fingers were thrusting in and out of her as fast as he could physically manage. JJ stretched her fingers out. Garcia grabbed her hand, and they held each other tight as she came.

“Just relax, baby girl,” Emily cooed, brushing my hair back with her fingers, “that’ll be you soon enough.” I relaxed. “Are they shaking their legs every time you move your fingers the slightest bit?” she asked Reid. He nodded. “Then they’re not broken yet.” she leaned down so that her lips were hovering around my ear. “I’ll make you a deal. You make me feel good, and I might consider telling them you deserve a ruin.”

I pouted at her. “I just want to cum, Mistress.”

Her hand clasped around my neck. “But you haven’t earned it.”

“I’ll do anything.”

Reid curled his fingers right into my g-spot. “Make her cum and I’ll ruin you as a reward.” That wasn’t much of a reward, but it was better than nothing, I supposed. So, I nodded. Reid turned the power of the toy down to match his newfound turtle paced speed of finger fucking me.

Emily pushed her pants off and kicked them to the side. Before even bothering with her panties, she crossed her arms over her torso, her hands grabbing at the bottom hem of her shirt, then pulling it up and over her head. I moaned when I saw her large breasts bounce slightly. She wasn’t wearing a bra. This whole time, she wasn’t wearing a bra. Earlier, I could’ve been a brat, snuck my hands under her shirt, pinched her nipples, and there would’ve been nothing to stop me. Fuck.

She noticed my fascination with her breasts. Taking note of how I gulped at the sight, she smirked before reaching out to tug lightly at the chain between my breasts. Reid pulled the toy away from my clit when I tightened around his fingers as much as possible in response to the pain racing through my from the clamps Emily was playing with. They exchanged some kind of knowing glance. Teasing the room that was watching her intently, Emily pushed her panties down to her ankles. Everyone was silent. She stepped out of them, then crumpled them up in her palms.

“I’ll take those,” Hotch said gruffly from his seat. He scratched his five o’clock shadow while he stood, then took a few steps towards the bed. I watched Emily pass her panties to him over me. “Don’t go easy on them.”

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