#Aaron x emily

[sequinsmile-x]

hi besties <3

It's been a hot minute since I wrote something where one of our idiots is in danger, and the other is worried, so I'm cooking a little something up.

Fic will be up tomorrow night, and the snippet is below the cut!

He was just going to buy eggs. He was making her breakfast. He was just buying eggs so his gun was still in her safe. 

Her thumb lingers over Penelope’s contact in her phone. She knows if she sounds the alarm, if she calls her and asks her to contact everyone else, that she’ll be doing more than letting them know Aaron is in danger. She’ll be letting them know about the relationship none of them knew about yet. They were planning on telling the team soon. Dave was hosting dinner in a week and that felt like the perfect time, mutual ground to explain to their friends that they were together now, both of them ready to take on the inevitable questions together.

She shakes off the thought and calls Penelope, knowing she’d much rather deal with all of her questions by herself rather than not have their help.

“Peaches, what are you doing calling so early on a Saturday?” 

She blows out a breath and heads towards her bedroom, her phone sandwiched between her ear and her shoulder as she starts to get changed, “Pen, hi. Something’s happened to Hotch.”

[mikotosworld]

Aaron?

Yes, love?

[sirpotys]

A little headcanon I have is that Spencer accidentally ends up interrupting intimate moments between Hotch and Prentiss.

It's not the boy's fault, he just loves his sister too much.

[cloudlessly-light]

Hi!! Would you consider writing hotchniss thigh riding? There’s so few of them 😔 and maybe coupled with spit kink if you can? Your previous spit kink fics had me WILD. Thank you!!

A/N: Hi Anon! I hope you like this and that you don't mind that I added some other stuff as well, please enjoy!

Title: Gonna make you sweat Summary: Emily usually never disturbs him when he’s working from home, but sometimes she just can’t help herself. Word count: 2,3k Rating: Explicit Warnings: Smut, thigh grinding, spit kink, breath play/choking, verbal humiliation, dom Aaron, sub Emily, filth, absolute filth

It’s quiet when she unlocks the front door to their home. The lights all turned off except one and she smiles at the way Aaron always leaves a light for her when she comes home later than him. She kicks off her shoes and groans happily, the heels she’s worn for a night out with Penelope and JJ, as stunning as they were, are not worth the pain. The stillness of their house is soothing, knowing that Jack was tucked into bed and that Aaron was probably in bed waiting for her making adoration flutter in her chest.

But as she goes up the stairs and sees the light on in his home office she turns towards it instead of their bedroom and sure enough, he’s sitting there, still in his slacks but the tie off and the first couple of buttons of his shirt unbuttoned. Today had been a tiring day for him, she knew that, and even if she wouldn’t tell him as much, it was part of her reason for cutting girl’s night short.

For a few seconds she takes in the way he’s looking sitting there, so effortlessly gorgeous, as he concentrates on putting pen to paper. He’s been at it for hours, she can tell by the slightly strained expression on his face, the way he’s flexing his fingers before grabbing the pen again.

Emily rarely disturbs him when he’s working, and she isn’t sure if it’s the way he looks as he sits there, or the wine she’s had, or the want she always felt toward him, or maybe it’s knowing that he needs to release some tension after the difficult day he’s had, maybe it’s the mix of all of it. But she finds that she can’t help herself as she quietly unzips her dress and lets it fall to the floor. She steps out of it and then clears her throat as she takes a couple of steps toward him.

“Hi honey.” She smiles when he looks up at the sound of her voice and watches in amusement as his eyes move over frame slowly.

“You’re home early.” He says and pushes back on his chair to turn fully to face her and motions for her to come closer.

“Henry is sick.” She shrugs just as she comes to stop in front of him. His eyes move over her body slowly once more and she feels the familiar rush from it as his tongue licks over his bottom lip.

“And you thought that you’d come in here and distract me?” His hands graze the outside of her thighs as she nods and when she shivers in response to his touch he raises an eyebrow in amusement. “You know better than that, sweetheart.”

She smirks as he grabs her fully, large hands holding her hips as he pulls her toward him to straddle his lap.

“Can I really be blamed when you’re this sexy?” She muses, her lips brushing against his as she speaks before she kisses him. Her tongue is quick to seek out his, a happy sigh sounding from her when he licks into her mouth as his hands move over her body. The familiar feel of his warm, slightly calloused fingers sends goosebumps across her skin, the heat of his palms quickly making her entire body feel hot even in the slightly cool room.

Aaron groans lowly when he feels her hips start to grind on his lap, the heat of her evident even through her silk panties and his pants. When he breaks their kiss her dark eyes are hazy, her cheeks flushed pink and he swallows down the urge to take her right there. But there was something about Emily, needy and desperate, drunk on him, that was unlike any power rush he’d ever felt before. And tonight, after hours of paperwork and a day consisting of bureaucracy and red tape, he needed that power.

With that thought in mind he unhooks her bra, dark eyes locked on hers as it falls to the floor and before she has the chance to say anything else, he slowly wraps his hand around her throat, making sure he has her attention as he squeezes the tiniest bit. When he feels the way she swallows down a moan he smirks at her.

“You want me that bad, baby? That you can’t even wait until we’re in bed?” He squeezes harder and her hips roll against his lap in response.

“Aaron I-” Her voice is breathy, but it’s not what he wants to hear so he cuts her off with another squeeze, this one hard as he holds her gaze for a couple of seconds before letting go.

“Try again.” He watches in amusement as she fights the internal battle with herself, knows that in the end what they both want is for her to give herself completely to him, but sometimes she would put up a bit of a fight. Tonight however, it looked like her need for him was bigger than her need to be defiant.

“I want you so bad.” She whispered, the flush on her cheeks all but disappearing as her entire body flushes with the admission.

“Aww, you poor thing.” He keeps his hand around her throat as he pushes her off his lap only to tug her underwear off her hips before standing up too. There was something about Emily completely naked when he was still fully clothed that made heat flutter in his belly.

“Open.” He tilts her head back just slightly, a dark groan rumbling in his chest when her mouth opened, already knowing what was coming. When he spit into her mouth and she swallowed with a moan he hummed happily. “Good girl.”

Emily is sure she must be dripping from arousal as she watches how he sits down on his chair again, legs spread and body leaning back against the backrest, his entire being demanding respect. She knows what he wants before he says it, but she doesn’t move until he nods.

“You know you can’t always get what you want.” He pulls her closer but this time lets her straddle one of his thighs instead of his lap. The way she sucks in a breath at the feeling of fabric against her clit causes his fingers to dig into her waist slightly. “You want to act like a desperate little thing, and because I’m so nice I’m going to let you get off on my thigh. Let you prove to me how much you want it.”

His low voice and slightly condescending tone only make her flush harder, her body feeling like it was on fire and he hadn’t even touched her yet. She knew she was already staining his slacks, the wet spot already visible when she rearranged her body slightly and Aaron smirked, something smug and self-assured that she would have been irritated by if they had been in any other situation but this one. Instead it only turns her on and she slowly starts to grind on against his thigh, a soft moan falling from her lips at finally getting some relief.

Her hands move to grip his shoulders, her hips rolling and rocking against the strong muscle of his leg as his hands stay on her waist, letting her set the pace. His intense stare on her only makes her grind harder, something about knowing that he loved to watch her, getting her off. It always did.

“Look at you, it’s barely been two minutes and you’ve already soaked me.” He muses as the wet spot on his slacks get bigger, the feel of her wetness against his skin making his cock jerk in it’s confines. “What do you say to that?”

It takes her a second to find any words at all, but as her eyelids flutter open and she sees the furrowed eyebrows and lips pressed together in a thin line she gasps.

“I’m sorry.” Her grip on his shoulders must be hurting him but he only encourages her by pushing his thigh against her.

“Sorry for what?” Aaron lets go of her waist as he speaks, instead he grabs the back of her neck with one hand, the other moving to toy with her nipples.

“Sorry for ruining your pants.” She moans, the way he’s rolling one of her nipples sending pleasurable sparks to her clit, and her hips buckle slightly.

“That’s okay baby,” He coos before pulling her into a kiss that’s more tongue than anything else. “that’s what happens when desperate girls can’t help themselves.” He squeezes around the back of her neck and then let’s go, knowing from Emily’s slightly frantic movements that she’s getting close.

“Fuck, Aaron…” She whimpered as she rolled her hips against his thigh, dragging her clit against it harder as she felt herself squeeze around nothing. “Feels good.” Her words are mumbled between breathless moans and pants, her orgasm building slowly.

“I know, you’re so wet sweetheart.” He sits up straighter and wraps one arm around the small of her back to keep her steady as he sucks a nipple into his mouth. When he tugs it between his teeth, Emily’s hips buckle in desperation and he presses his leg harder up against her, making sure she gets as much pressure against her clit as possible.

She jerks, her body chasing her release as she rolls her hips harder and faster, nothing but lewd moans and his name falling from her lips as her body starts to strain.

“Good girl, come for me.” His cock was hurting from how badly he wanted to feel her, aching from being hard for so long without getting any relief, but as Emily started to spasm on top of him, he knew that any waiting, or uncomfortableness was worth it. He watched as her eyes rolled back and mouth fell open, felt how her hips jerked and grinded against his leg as she continued to ride out her pleasure with a cry that was almost too loud.

She felt her orgasm in her entire body, the pleasure of it making her eyesight blurry as she continued to grind down on his clothed thigh until only aftershocks rocked her body. Her eyes, heavy lidded and hazy found his and she smiled lazily.

“Thank you.” She mumbled and he chuckled, the sound raspy and low. When he carefully pushed her off his leg, only to quickly move her to his desk, she didn’t fight him, still happily dazed and sated. Her eyes moved to the wet spot on his leg and she blushed at the mess she had made, but she could tell that Aaron loved it, he always loved when she fell apart, it didn’t matter how it happened.

“Now it’s my turn.” He muttered as he made quick work of getting his pants and boxers off. He stepped between her spread legs and groaned at the feeling of her soft skin against his heated shaft, enjoyed the feeling as he shallowly thrust against her thigh while unbuttoning his shirt, knowing that he was smearing precum on her skin.

“Please, fuck me.” She whispered when he continued to tease her, a smirk on his face as he rubbed the tip of his cock through her folds repeatedly. It was enough, his desperation for her finally clear when he pushed inside of her and quickly setting a pace as he groaned against her lips.

“How do you always feel so good?” He grunted, the pleasure of her slick walls making him crazy. His hands gripped her hips tight to keep her in place as he started to move with hard, fast thrusts and when her legs wrapped around his hips, he hissed her name.

“Do it again.” She whispered against his neck and when she pulled back her eyebrow arched and her head tilted back as her lips opened.

“Dirty fucking thing.” He growled and spit in her mouth again, watched with heated eyes as she swallowed dutifully with a filthy smirk on her lips.

It’s rough, fast and desperate as he grabs at her and she claws at him as they chase their release in each other’s skin. When Emily let’s out a sound close to a whine and her pussy starts to clench around him, Aaron groans against her neck, his teeth digging into the soft skin there.

“Come with me.” She pants through blurry pleasure and she feels him nodding. The feeling of his labored breathing against her neck and the feeling of him inside of her as he grips her hard enough to bruise, is sensory overload and she comes only a few minutes later, clinging to his sweaty body.

“Jesus Christ, Em.” He hisses as his orgasm hits him like a freight train, knocking the wind completely out of him as his hips stutter against hers and pleasure makes his knees buckle. The way her center is still trembling around him draws out his pleasure, the feeling of release close to euphoric as he tries to catch his breath.

She isn’t sure how long they stay like that but when Aaron takes a step back she can see the relaxation, can see how much he needed this and she smiles at him.

“I should come in here more often.” She stands on slightly unsteady legs and wraps her arms around his neck.

“I don’t know, I might not be able to focus on work in here ever again.” He nuzzled her nose with his as she laughs before kissing her. “Thank you.”

“For what?” She stamps another kiss to his lips and then sees the knowing look on his face.

“You know exactly what, you brat.” He tickles her waist quickly before pulling her against him. “Come one, lets shower and then I’m having you sit on my face until I’ve had my fill.”

She’s never headed to the shower that quick in her life.

[ssaemilyhotchner]

Congrats on 1k! Can I request N?🩷

for you, @em-prentiss! I hope you love it! 🩷

OTHER 1K DRABBLES | Read on AO3 Join the celebration by requesting a letter!

letter: N | prompt: nerves | wc: 0.5k a/n: Inspired by this exchange in episode 1x16 (“Young at Heart”) of The X-Files: “Mulder, I know what you did wasn't by the book.” “Tells you a lot about the book, doesn't it?”

Please do not repost (reblogs welcome) or otherwise claim as your own.

--

“Take the shot, Emily.”

“I can’t.” The unsub is perfectly framed in her scope but she is still adamant, clenching her jaw as a bead of sweat from the back of her neck travels down the length of her spine. “It’s too close. I’ll hit Hotch.”

But just as readily as she knows their protocol—knows that it is against Bureau regulations to unnecessarily endanger the life of a hostage—she also knows their profile. That if their unsub feels boxed in, he’ll go down shooting. And with Hotch in his grasp, that simply isn’t an option.

Undoubtedly thinking the same, Dave does not yield. “It’s the only chance we have,” his gentle yet insistent voice sounds in her earpiece. Even from miles away, she can feel the stress radiating off of him in waves. “You’ve got this. You know it.”

“It’s not by the book, Dave,” she warns, but she’s already shifting her weight forward, her finger brushing lightly against the trigger guard.

“Screw the book.”

With no time left to catastrophize, Emily plants her feet and squares her shoulders, her body becoming an extension of her rifle. Every inch of her posture is perfect, a debutante primed for this over cotillion. 

There’s a click of concentration in her mind, the perfect moment, and on a thin exhale, she pulls the trigger—

—and watches in terror as their unsub and Hotch fall in a grand arc to the hard, unforgiving ground.

“No,” she whispers, her vision tunneling and her blood running cold. Not even a second passes before she is on her feet and running, her heart pounding so hard that she can hear its mocking beat in her ears as the distance between them diminishes, then diminishes some more.

And then she sees Hotch rise on wobbling legs, completely unharmed.

Unable to prevent it, Emily falls as her knees buckle beneath her, just as Hotch stumbles over to her and draws her into a tight hug. “It’s okay,” he pants, as if he, too, needs to hear the words aloud to believe them. “I’m okay.”

“I thought I had hit you,” she says, shivering into his side as he unconsciously pulls her in even closer. “Jesus, Hotch, I don’t know what I would have done if I...”

“I never doubted you for a second,” he reveals. “Not once.” 

With shaky fingers, Emily reaches out and wipes away the spray of the unsub’s blood from his temple and cheek. When their gazes meet, the look in his eyes at her ministration is so tender that she cups his face fully and kisses him on instinct, chaste and sweet.

She pulls back with an embarrassed smile tugging at her parted lips. “Sorry,” she whispers. “Adrenaline.”

Hotch can’t remember ever seeing her—the unbelievable, unflappable Emily Prentiss—look as sheepish as she does before him now, all wide eyes and flushed cheeks. The sight is so endearing that he can’t help but bring his hand to the back of her neck and utter a confession years in the making.

“It’s not just adrenaline for me,” he replies softly, before leaning back in and returning her kiss.

[rawr-jess]

Need I say more….

[fuckyeahhotchniss]

🎃👻 Get ready for the Hotchniss Spooky Season Challenge! 👻🎃

This October, we’re bringing the chills, thrills, and fun with a brand-new challenge that’ll test your spooky spirit!

Dare to join? Keep an eye out for the full details dropping soon. Let’s make this spooky season unforgettable!

[clem-125]

“Jack? I can't really hear you, buddy." Emily replies, instantly tense as she hears the panic in his voice.

"Emily, I was at the mall and there was a shooting. Everyone started screaming. I tried to call Dad but ..."

Emily hears a crash and screams, then the call is cut off.

Jack is being held hostage and calls Emily for help.

[sequinsmile-x]

Keep My Hand in Yours

A quiet Saturday morning goes wrong, and the team finding out about her relationship with Aaron is the least of Emily's concerns.

-x-

Hi besties <3

It feels absolutely wild to say that this fic takes me over 2.5 million words of fanfic. 2.5 million words of Hotchniss!!

I'm cooking up a fic to celebrate the milestone (y'all know I love a milestone...I'm a water sign, I'm emotional haha) but for now I just want to say I appreciate every single one of you and all of the comments/kudos etc that you leave on my fics. It truly means the world and I love this little corner of the internet.

As always, let me know what you think <3

-x-

Warnings: mild peril, canon typical violence

Words: 4.8k

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

Emily wakes up slowly, drawn from sleep by a hand skating up and down her back, warm and newly familiar calluses chased by shivers they created on her bare skin. She groans and buries her face in her pillow, blindly hitting out at Aaron as he chuckles at her. 

“Good morning to you too.” 

She opens one eye and looks at him, fighting a losing battle against a smile as he captures her hand and kisses her knuckles, “Morning,” she replies, furrowing her brow when she sees he’s dressed in a pair of jeans and a polo shirt she knew had been in her closet, “Where are you going?” 

Aaron smiles and leans in to kiss her, his lips stamped against her cheek and then her lips as she turns her head to capture them, “I was going to make you breakfast, but you don’t have any eggs.”

She grumbles and wraps her arm around his neck, pulling him and the warmth that seemed to follow him like a shadow closer to her, “I don’t need breakfast,” she mumbles, kissing him again, “I need you to get back in bed.” 

“I’ll only be gone for 30 minutes,” He laughs and pushes some of her hair out of her face. He runs his knuckles down her cheek, the impossible softness of her skin making his chest tight just like it always did. She was everything he always knew she’d be and more, and the four short weeks they’d been together had been worth every painful thing he’d been through to get to her, to them. He swallows thickly to push back down the three words they hadn’t exchanged yet, “Then I’ll come back and cook you breakfast, and then I’ll get back into bed with you.” 

She hums, “What time do you have to get back to Jack?”

“He’s with Jess and Roy this weekend,” he says, “So I can stay as long as you’ll have me.” 

Emily’s cheeks ache with the smile that spreads across her face, love for him warming her from the inside out, threatening to spill out of her in the safety of her bedroom and his embrace. He’d become her safe space when she came home from Paris, had been the one person who truly understood what it was to put yourself back together after you’d been so brutally torn apart. Bit by bit, all the feelings she’d felt for him, everything she’d stuffed down into the deepest parts of herself ever since Foyet had attacked him, started to make themselves known. She’d loved him for a lot longer than the four weeks she’d had him, had wanted to kiss him years before she’d leant forward one evening in his apartment and stamped her lips against his. 

It was early days still, she knew that, but she also knew that this was it, that he was it. With anyone else, she’s sure it would terrify her, that it would have her running as far away as possible, but with Aaron all she wanted to do was run with him. To grab his hand and go wherever life led them both. 

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Agent Hotchner,” she replies, stamping her lips against his before she lets him go, “You and I both know I’d keep you here forever.” 

“And we both know I’d stay,” he smiles at her, and she can’t help but cup his cheek again, her thumb pressed into his dimple as she drags him in for one last kiss, “I should go.” 

She hums and wraps her arms around her pillow again, “Don’t be surprised if I fall asleep before you get back.” 

He watches as she settles back down, her eyes drifting shut as she sighs contentedly. He’d always known she was beautiful, even when he was still married to Haley. When he looked back on it, he knew it was part of the reason he’d been so cold to her at first. His attraction to her something that poured gasoline on the fire of his mistrust of her, guilt sparking in his gut every time her smile made his chest warm or her laugh had him suppressing a smile. He’d always known she was beautiful, but she’d never been as beautiful as this - laying in her bed, her hair a mess and her face free of make-up. It felt like a privilege, something he wasn’t entirely sure he deserved.

He chuckles as he stands up, “I wouldn’t expect anything else, sweetheart.” 

“Shush,” she says, pulling the covers tighter around her shoulders, her smile pressed against them as she breathes in his scent, “I’m sleeping.” 

She’s asleep again before he leaves the apartment, lulled to sleep by the residual warmth and safety he’d left behind. She slips in and out of slumber, and finally gets out of bed when she can’t settle any more. She frowns when she sees the time and realises Aaron has been gone for close to an hour, and it makes concern flicker in her gut. She gets out of bed and slips his shirt over her head and walks into the kitchen to get her phone to call him. She furrows her brow when she hears sirens outside, but ignores them as she tries to call Aaron, her concern getting worse when it rings twice before going to voicemail. 

She blows out a breath and tells herself that she’s overreacting, that he’s likely at the cashier and paying, that he’d got distracted by picking out flowers for her as he had before. She settles onto the couch and picks up the remote, smiling to herself when she switches it on and sees the local news. She wasn’t one for watching it herself, she thought that there was enough doom and gloom in her life because of her job, but Aaron watched it all the time. She’s about to change the channel, to find one of the reality shows she secretly loves, when the rolling bulletin across the bottom of the screen catches her attention. 

Breaking News: Local convenience store held hostage, one known gunman inside. 

Time slows down around her, the air thick as she struggles to suck in a breath as she waits for the anchor to say something, to make her feel stupid for worrying and immediately thinking the worst by saying it was a store way across town. When they discuss the story, when they say it’s the store she knows Aaron has gone to, she feels nauseous, her stomach rolling with it as she scrambles for her phone. 

He was just going to buy eggs. He was making her breakfast. He was just buying eggs so his gun was still in her safe. 

Her thumb lingers over Penelope’s contact in her phone. She knows if she sounds the alarm, if she calls her and asks her to contact everyone else, that she’ll be doing more than letting them know Aaron is in danger. She’ll be letting them know about the relationship none of them knew about yet. They were planning on telling the team soon. Dave was hosting everyone for dinner in a week and that felt like the perfect time, mutual ground to explain to their friends that they were together now. 

She shakes off the thought and calls Penelope, knowing she’d much rather deal with all of their questions by herself rather than not have their help.

“Peaches, what are you doing calling so early on a Saturday?” 

She blows out a breath and heads towards her bedroom, her phone sandwiched between her ear and her shoulder as she starts to get changed, “Pen, hi. Something’s happened to Hotch.”

___

He spends too long looking at flowers. 

He eventually settles on sunflowers, even though he’d bought them for her before, because he knows they are safe for Sergio. The cat may not exactly be his friend, but Emily loved him and therefore Aaron did too. Even if that love was returned in the form of scratches on his chest and two torn-up silk ties. 

He’s looking at the eggs when he hears it, when there’s a commotion at the front of the store that distracts him. There’s a scream followed by shouting, but he’s barely able to register what’s happening, barely able to think about the fact he’d left the apartment to simply buy some eggs, when there’s a man standing at the end of the aisle waving a gun around, pointing it at him as he demands Aaron comes to the front of the store with everyone else. 

Aaron’s belt feels heavy, the absence of his gun almost weighing him down as he puts his hands up, the carton of eggs and the flowers hitting the floor, and does as he’s told. 

This couldn’t be the way he went out, not after everything. He wasn’t going to die in a strange twist of fate after everything he’d survived. He wasn’t going to leave his son without any parents. 

And he wasn’t going to die before he told the love of his life how he felt about her, the words he wished he’d said as he left her less than an hour ago heavy on his tongue. 

He was going to live, because, for the first time in a long time, he had so much to live for. 

He sits on the ground with the other people unfortunate enough to be in the store just at the wrong time, and he jumps when his phone rings, the sound cutting through the forced silence they are all in. 

“Give me the phone,” the gunman demands, and Aaron nods and swallows thickly as he hands it over, Emily’s name and picture staring up at him for only a second before the man pointing a gun at him drops it to the floor and stands on it, the call coming to an abrupt end as the screen cracks. Aaron watches the man carefully, his focus on his shaking hands, wide eyes, and uncovered face. It seemed like this was done on a whim, in a fit of rage for one reason or another, and that it was unlikely he had an exit plan. “If everyone listens to me, no one has to get hurt.”

Aaron had done his job long enough to know that wasn’t true. 

___

She flashes her badge when she arrives at the scene. She takes a deep breath as she steps past the barricade and does her best to slip into Agent Prentiss mode, to remind herself she wasn’t here as a girlfriend worried about her boyfriend. She stares at the store, at the place she’d gone to countless times, and wonders how yet another place she’d gone to without thinking had now been marred by violence, how she’d ever walk through the aisles looking for whatever she wanted for dinner without thinking about the fact Aaron had been in danger there. 

“Bella.”

She turns and sees Dave, Derek and JJ behind her, and she walks towards them, forcing a smile on her face she knows they’ll see through, “Did you guys all carpool or something?” 

Derek shakes his head, “We just all got here. Reid is on his way. Garcia has gone to the office, she said she’d be more use there.”

Emily nods, her gaze drifting back to the store behind them and the temporary command centre the local cops had set up, “Good, that’s good.” 

“How did you know Aaron was in there anyway?” Dave asks, and Emily closes her eyes and blows out a breath before she turns to look at them, ready to give the answer she was sure would only create more questions. 

“Well-”

“This store is significantly closer to your place Emily than it is to Hotch’s,” Spencer says, appearing behind everyone else, his eyebrows furrowed as he says what the others hadn’t realised yet, “There are three convenience stores and two grocery stores between here and his apartment.” 

She sighs as she watches the moment it clicks for everyone else, sees the mix of emotions that pass over their faces as they realise what she and Aaron had kept hidden from them. 

“Well I’ll be damned,” Dave says, shaking his head as he smiles at her, a spark in his eyes that infuriates her given the circumstances. They fall into silence, all of them just waiting for someone to say something first.

“What’s happening?” Spencer asks, his brow furrowed as he looks back and forth between Emily and the rest of them. 

“Hotch was at Emily’s place, Spence,” JJ says, patting him on the shoulder, her lips pressed together when he just looks more confused. 

“What? Why?” 

“Well,” JJ says, flicking her eyes to Emily’s, “When a man and a woman love each other very much-”

“Can we stop please?” Emily says, crossing her arms over her chest, “Yes, Aaron was at mine,” she clears her throat, “We’re together.” 

Derek furrows his brow, “How long has this been going on?” 

“A month,” she replies, “And I’m sure you have questions-”

“Damn right we have questions,” Derek replies, his jaw tight with anger that only serves to make her angry. 

“And we’ll answer them,” she huffs out a breath, “Most of them. But for now can we please focus on getting him out of there?” 

The reality of where they were, of why they were here on a Saturday morning, seems to sink back in and they all nod. Derek’s shoulders loosen and he swallows thickly, his irritation and mistrust still painted all over his face. 

“Have you spoken to anyone yet?” 

She shakes her head, “I got here just before you.” 

“Then we’d better get going.” 

Dave takes charge and talks to the local cops, something she’s grateful for when they ask why the FBI are interested in a case like this, sure that her response would have been a lot more forceful than his calm ‘one of our own is in there’. They find out the gunman, Neil West, is an ex-employee of the store, and that his ex-girlfriend is the cashier currently in there. Penelope pulls his history - a story of stalking and assault charges that turn Emily’s stomach - and makes her more nervous. She’s sure West doesn’t have a plan, that he’s devolving as they just stand there outside unable to do anything, and it makes her feel sick, any pretence that she’s just here as an agent, as a member of Aaron’s team, disappearing by the second. 

The team spreads out, all of them helping the cops in whatever way they can. Emily feels frozen, the three words she couldn’t say earlier stuck in her throat, her lungs full of what felt like cowardice how she was faced with the thought that she may not get the chance to tell him that she loves him. 

“Why didn’t you tell anyone?” 

She sighs, “Derek-”

“Secrets never end up being good for any of us,” he says, shaking his head as he looks at her, “Especially yours.” 

She scoffs in disbelief, a humourless laugh sticking in her throat, “You have got to be kidding me,” she shakes her head, “You’re not equating my relationship with Aaron to…” she swallows thickly, her jaw tight as she holds back everything she wants to say, sure if she started she wouldn’t stop, “You don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“Because you two didn’t tell us anything.” 

“It’s been a month, Derek,” she says, “A month. We wanted to know where we stood with everything before we got everyone involved.”

“And that took a month?” 

“No, it took me maybe a few minutes to realise that I’m in love with him, but-”

Derek’s frown slips away as he cuts her off, “You’re in love with him?” 

Before she can answer, before she can even catch up with what she’s unintentionally said outloud, a gunshot rings out from inside the store. It feels like time stands still, like she’s underwater and she can’t hear anything apart from the echo of the gunshot in her head. She tries to move forward, tries to get to him but she can’t, like she’s frozen in place. Everything around her speeds back up and she realises Derek’s arm is around her middle, that he’s holding her so tightly her feet are no longer on the floor.

“Derek, let me go.”

“I can’t princess, I’m sorry,” he says, holding her tighter as police storm the building, “We both know he wouldn’t want me to.”

She stops fighting against him because she can’t anymore, all of her energy thrown into not crying, into not letting the pre-emptive grief settle into her chest, because if someone in there had got themselves shot trying to be a hero it would be Aaron. Stupid, loving, considerate, Aaron. It feels like a lifetime passes before they hear anything, every possibility playing out in front of her in a mix of static and vivid technicolour as she thinks of her life with and without him, fractures of everything that could and might not be slotting together until she feels nauseous. She feels stupid for letting herself get carried away with the thought of a future with him, for letting herself think for one minute that she’d be able to hold on to him. She’d never been able to keep anything good for long. 

When she eventually hears the crackle of the radio of a nearby cop she sucks in a breath preparing herself for the worst because life had never been too kind to her. 

“We need a medic for a gunshot wound to the gunman’s shoulder. All hostages are on their way out now.”

The relief almost makes her knees give out, and she’s sure if Derek still hadn’t been holding her they would have, that she would have collapsed under the weight of it.  He doesn’t let her go until the doors open, until Aaron is in sight. She runs towards him, her heart in her throat when she sees a cut on his forehead, and she throws her arms around him, not thinking about the team just a few feet behind them.

“You were gone a lot longer than 30 minutes,” she says, her throat tight as she pulls back to look at him, her eyes fixed on the cut on his head. She reaches out to touch it but stops short of doing so, worried she’d hurt him as her brain catches up with her. 

“Sorry,” he replies, catching her hand and kissing her knuckles, “Time got away from me.” 

She laughs humourlessly and leans forward to kiss him, her hand on his cheek as she holds him in place, “Aaron…”

She almost says it, almost admits that she loves him here and now, but she stops herself because she wants it to be something just for them. Not something that one of their friends or a stranger could overhear. They had so little that was just theirs, and now their friends knew about their relationship they’d have even less, so she wanted this to just be for them. 

“I know,” he replies, because he did, his own confession heavy on his tongue before he swallows it down, and he stamps his lips against hers before he pulls back, “I’m okay.” 

She looks at his forehead again, “What happened?” 

“He was devolving, kept waving his gun at his ex-girlfriend and I saw where it was going,” he clears his throat and looks over at the team, their gaze burning into his side, before he looks back at her, “So I did what I had to do.” 

She shakes her head, “You disarmed him.” 

He brushes some of her hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear, “I did what I had to do. He hit me with the gun before I took it from him,” he repeats, “You’d have done the same thing.”

She sighs, because she knows he’s right, “We need to get you checked out,” she says, linking her fingers through his and leading him towards the medics. He opens his mouth to argue, to tell her that he’s fine, but she raises an eyebrow at him, “No arguing. You’re getting that looked at.” 

“Okay, sweetheart,” he says, squeezing her hand, her residual panic following her like a perfume, the scent of it clinging to her skin in a way he knew it would for days, “I’ll let them look at me,” he looks back over at their friends, at the way they weren’t even trying to hide the fact they were staring at them, “I take it that they know.” 

She hums, “Thanks to Reid and his strange amount of knowledge about all the places you can buy groceries between here and your place they figured it out pretty quickly.” 

“I’m sorry you had to deal with that by yourself.”

“They weren’t too bad,” she replies, smiling when he raises an eyebrow at her. She wants to talk to him about Derek, to find out if there is more to know about his poorly hidden comments about her and Ian, but she doesn’t want to talk about it now, not when they’d had such a hard day already. She smiles at him and leans in to kiss him, her lips catching the corner of his mouth, and they both know it’s more for their audience than either of them, “Now we know you’re okay they probably won’t hold back.” 

He winks at her, “Bring it on.” 

She doesn’t leave his side when he’s being checked over, listening intently to the paramedic’s advice like neither one of them had never taken a blow to the head before. Once he’s bandaged up, and she’s assured more than once that he doesn’t need to go to the hospital, she finally feels more relaxed, her hand still wrapped in his as they walk towards the rest of the team.

“Oh god,” he says, turning back to look at the store that was now cordoned off, “I need to go back in.”

“Honey, it’s a crime scene,” she says, squeezing his hand, “You can’t go back.” 

“But I didn’t get the eggs, we have nothing for breakfast.” 

She rolls her eyes at him, because of course he was worried about the eggs when if things had been different he could died, “Aaron-”

“I have a solution for that,” Dave says, a grin on his face that makes Emily glare at him, something that only seems to encourage him, “Why don’t we all go out for breakfast? My treat.” 

“That sounds like a great idea,” JJ says, pulling her phone out of her pocket, “I’ll let Pen know, she can join us.” 

“Oh god,” Emily says, turning her head and pressing her forehead against Aaron’s shoulder, “We’re never going to hear the end of this.” 

___

“That wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be.”

Emily chuckles at Aaron as she closes her front door behind them, “It wasn’t bad for you,” she says, her hand on his back as she slips past him, “But Pen asked me a lot of questions about our sex life when we went to the bathroom.” 

His eyes go wide, and the embarrassment that tinges his skin pink only makes the white bandage on his forehead stand out even more, “What?” 

She smiles and wraps her arms around him, tugging him and his warmth closer. She basks in it, soaks it all in because for a moment today, she thought she’d lost it forever, and she leans in to kiss him.

“If it makes you feel better,” she says, kissing him again, “I was very complimentary.” 

“Oddly, sweetheart, that doesn’t make me feel better,” he grumbles, unable to fight his smile when she looks up at him, her teeth sinking into her lower lip, “How complimentary?” 

“Oh very complimentary,” she says, running her fingers through his hair, her nails scratching lightly at his scalp as her eyes flick to his forehead, “Do you need any painkillers or anything?” 

He shakes his head and stamps his lips against hers, “I’m fine, I promise.” 

She nods, not entirely sure she believes him, and she reaches for his hand, “Let’s go sit down.” 

She sinks into his side the moment they settle onto the couch. She wraps both of her arms around one of his and holds it to her chest, and she rests her cheek on his shoulder, her eyes drifting closed as she breathes him in. She tries to commit it all to memory - all the things she may have taken for granted even just this morning. The press of his skin against hers. The scent of his cologne. The warmth that she never wanted to live without. He knows what she’s doing, because he knows he’d been doing the same earlier. Desperately trying to remember what she sounded like when she first woke up, or how she felt pressed against him just like this - idle moments of beautiful normality he once thought he’d never get again.

“I really am okay, Em,” he says, hooking his finger under her chin and making her look up at him, “I promise.” 

She smiles tightly, “I know…” she says, swallowing thickly, “I know you are, but earlier…” she shakes her head at herself as she chokes back tears she refuses to shed, “I didn’t know you would be,” her smile trembles, “I was scared.” 

He cups her cheek and pulls her close, the bandage on his forehead rubbing against her skin, “I know. I was too,” he kisses her, “But I’m right here.” 

She nods and suddenly she doesn’t feel close enough to him. She shifts so she’s in his lap, her side pressed against his chest as he holds her close. She tilts her head so she’s looking up at him and she cups his cheek. Any fear she’d had that morning about it being too soon is gone, replaced with a strange sense of calm because it felt right. For as many arguments as there were to say it was quick to know she loved him and that she wanted everything with him, there were just as many to say they’d been slow. That they’d let countless opportunities pass them by over the years and she wasn’t going to let this one slip by her too. 

“I love you,” she says, a weight lifted off her chest the moment she says it, “I love you so much.” 

He smiles, his cheeks aching with it as he pulls her in for a kiss, unable to stop himself before he replies, “I love you too, sweetheart. I love you so much more than I can ever possibly explain.” 

She kisses him, her hand on his cheek to hold him in place as if he’d want to be anywhere else. She rests her forehead against his and sighs contentedly, “It’s not even lunchtime yet and I’m exhausted.” 

“I think we’ve earned an indulgent nap,” he replies, kissing the tip of her nose and smiling when she scrunches it up, “But why don’t we watch one of those reality shows you pretend to hate first.” 

 “You say that like you don’t enjoy them too,” she hums and reaches for the remote. As she flicks through the channels she can see him watching her out of the corner of her eye and she turns to face him, “What?” 

“You’re beautiful,” he says, kissing her forehead, “That’s all.” 

“How hard exactly did that guy hit you in the head?” She jokes, and he rolls his eyes at her, stamping his lips against her forehead one more time before he pulls back. 

“I should thank the guy really,” he says casually, and she raises her eyebrow at him, making him suppress a smile as he shrugs, “If I’d have known a blow to the head is what would have finally made you say you love me, I would have been held hostage weeks ago.” 

She scoffs, choking on a laugh she couldn’t hold back if she tried. She shakes her head at him and lightly slaps his shoulder, narrowing her eyes when he captures her hand and kisses her knuckles, “Don’t joke about that.” 

“Too soon?”

“Far far too soon,” she mumbles, resting her head on his shoulder, “You’re lucky I love you, even if you do have a terrible sense of humour.” 

He wraps his arms around her and kisses her temple, “I really am lucky,” he replies, feeling the smile she hides against him, “I’m the luckiest guy in the world.” 

[mikotosworld]

[sirpotys]

Emily: *holding a mirror in front of Hotch* Hotch look at this beautiful piece of art.

Aaron: Prentiss that's a mirror

Emily: *smiling* that's right.

Aaron: Oh!. *He hugs her tightly and blinks the tears from her eyes.* Please never leave my side.

[cloudlessly-light]

Can you do a hotchniss smut where Emily fake her orgasm because she struggles to finish sometimes and hotch notices so he confronts her about it and they try different positions and stuff

Title: Want your body like a fiend Summary: Aaron is not a quitter, so when Emily has a problem, he’s more than happy to help Word count: 3k Rating: Explicit Warnings: Smut, dirty talk, rough (ish), Aaron is a pleasure dom no one can tell me differently

”Do you want to go to dinner with me?”

That’s how it starts, how they start. It had been years of attraction, years of longing and yearning and then he just asks, like it’s not a big deal. And she couldn’t have been happier about it. With that question everything changes.

“Yes.” She smiles, and it’s big and bright and everything she hadn’t been since Paris. But she was back now and Aaron didn’t want to even think about losing her again.

So they go to dinner and in the beginning it’s tense and awkward, both of them having some trouble letting go of Hotch and Prentiss. But as the night carries on, Aaron relaxes and as he does, Emily does too. By the time dessert is placed on the table they’re teasing and talking, something about being together apart from the team and Quantico enough to let them simply be themselves.

“I had a nice time.” She says as he walks her to her door.

“Me too.” He’s smiling, the smile that makes his dimple show and she resists pressing her finger against it. “Would you like to do this again?”

“I’d love to.” She tucks a few strands of hair behind her ear and then he’s leaning forward and presses a kiss to her cheek. It’s soft and careful and when he pulls back she feels her cheek tingling from where his lips had touched her skin.

“See you at work.” His voice is just above a whisper, low and slightly raspy and she knows she needs to hear it like that again.

“See you tomorrow.” She unlocks her door and when she turns around, he’s smiling at her.

Their second date doesn’t happen until almost two weeks later, work and Jack and life quickly getting in the way. But he surprises her, knocks on her door with a bouquet of flowers and breakfast on a Sunday morning.

“You said that you didn’t have plans.” He offers before she can ask what he’s doing at her doorstep. “And I wanted to surprise you, since our second date has taken a backseat.”

“T-thank you.” She stutters, feeling slightly embarrassed to stand in front of him without make-up in her sweats and a loose shirt.

“You look beautiful.” He says like he can read her mind and she smiles at him. “These are for you.” He hands her the flowers and watches as she takes them, her smile getting even bigger as she smells them.

“How did you know peonies are my favorite?” She looks from the bouquet of white, pink and purple to him and he winks at her.

“That’s for me to know, for now.” He pushes past her and into her kitchen and places the bag he’s carrying onto the counter. “I brought pancakes, coffee and fruit.”

As Emily watches him unpack boxes and carefully places take away cups down she feels her entire body warm. He was it for her, she knew it.

It gets easier after that morning, coffee dates before work and dinners if they aren’t away on cases. And all of a sudden it’s been close to two months and Emily is pressing him back against her front door, her tongue in his mouth and hands grabbing at his clothes.

They had waited, neither of them wanted their first time to be something rushed and tonight it was finally the time. His hands were on her waist, pushing her further into him, fingers moving under her shirt to feel her warm skin against his palms.

“I want you.” He gets out through heated kisses and she nods into a breathless kiss, only pulling back when the need for air becomes too much.

They move to the bedroom, hands roaming and lips searching as clothes fall onto the floor in a mess and when he pushes her against the bed she’s already flushed, her body feeling like it was on fire from him.

“You’re sure right?” He asks, eyes so soft that she wants to look away as he hovers above her. But she doesn’t, instead she cups his cheek as she nods.

“I’m sure.” She pulls him into another kiss as her legs wrap around his hips. His hand moves down her body, his lips move from hers to taste the skin of her neck, his tongue licking a stripe down the column of it and further down until he can lick over her nipple. Her back arches into him, offering more of herself to his searching lips and when his lips wrap around her nipple, she feels two fingers push inside of her and she moans softly.

His groan is muffled against her chest when he feels the heat of her around his fingers. When he curls them his eyes flicker up to her face, watches the way her eyelids drift closed and how her cheeks flush pink. He can feel the want and something they haven’t said out loud yet growing by every second and then she’s pulling him up to kiss him.

“Fuck me.” She whispers against his lips, a smirk on hers and eyes so dark they look black. The sound of her breathless gasp when he pulls his fingers out of her and tastes her makes him rut against her thigh, something close to needy behind the sound.

“Delicious.” He mutters and she arches an eyebrow in return.

“Filthy.” The teasing tone is immediately replaced by another moan when he spreads her legs wide, the tip of his cock hot against her clit. He’s big, pushing inside of her slowly as he keeps his eyes on hers and when his hips are flush against her he swallows down a groan as his forehead leans on her shoulder.

“Jesus Christ, you feel good.” He gets out through clenched teeth as he waits for her to adjust, The second she’s pushing up against him he starts to move, pulling out almost entirely before thrusting forward. The sounds of his name and jumbled moans coming from her only encourage him as he moves with heavy pushes of his hips.

It feels good, it feels so good and Emily is sure that her nails that she’s digging into his sides are breaking skin, but he doesn’t seem to care so she doesn’t either. It feels so good, but it’s not enough and the familiar feeling of stress comes over her out of nowhere. She didn’t think it would with him, didn’t think that she’d get into her own head like she usually did. But it was too late.

She had always had trouble finishing, especially with someone else. She would feel rushed or overthink what was happening and even if she really enjoyed what her partner was doing, more often than not she’d never fall over the edge. It was normal, she knew that, but she hadn’t thought it would happen with Aaron.

But as she lies there she can feel her own mind taking over and she knew that no matter how good it felt she wouldn’t get there. She didn’t really mind, she was used to it being this way, so when she fell back into what she was used to, moaning louder and clenching her muscles as she faked her orgasm she didn’t think much of it. Until she felt Aaron stopping and looking down at her with furrowed eyebrows.

“What was that?” He asked, dark eyes intent on hers.

“What was what?” She offers him a smile that he doesn’t return.

“You just faked it.”

“I-I didn’t” The way her voices raise just slightly in pitch gives her away.

“You did.” He rolls off her and grabs the cover to cover them both before propping his head up on his arm, staying close to her. “Why?”

She sighs heavily, never had anybody noticed, never had she had to tell someone, and of course it would have to be him that noticed. In hindsight she shouldn’t have been surprised, he’s the most perceptive person she’d ever met.

“Sometimes I can’t.” She starts slowly as she looks up at the ceiling. “Sometimes I can’t come and it’s just easier to fake it.”

“Sweetheart,” The nickname makes her relax slightly. “it’s not your job to make me feel good about my sexual performance.”

“But it’s not like I’m not enjoying it!” She huffs in frustration and brushes some hair out of her face. “It feels amazing and yet I just… can’t. Like my body is broken.” When he pulls her into his arms she doesn’t fight it, his lips against her forehead is calming, his even heartbeat soothing. “I just didn’t think this would be a problem with you.”

“I don’t see this as a problem.” His words makes her look up at him with pursed lips. “All this means is that we’ll try different things, and there’s always toys, and it’s our first time sweetheart, it’ll take some time getting to know each other like this.” He smiles at her and she bites her bottom lip to keep her own smile at bay. “Besides, getting to spend time with you, explore every inch of your body, how is that not a win for me?”

When she laughs and swats his chest he rolls her back onto the bed.

“Do you think you can let me do that?” He whispers and when she nods he leans down to stamp a kiss to her lips. “Just promise me that you won’t fake it?”

She looks up at him for a moment, for some reason feeling nervous but in the end she trusts him with everything, including this.

“Okay.”

He kisses her again, kisses her for so long that she forgets about everything that wasn’t him. His hands are slow as they move down her body, caressing skin with teasing touches. By the time he’s moving down the bed, her chest is heaving, her clit pulsing as he slowly kisses from her neck to her chest and further down until he’s between her thighs. But he surprises her, and instead of feeling his tongue against her center, he’s trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses along her thighs, moving from one to the other.

“Aaron…” She gasps, feeling like she’ll go insane but he shushes her gently.

“Let’s not rush.” He mumbles, his eyes heated and dark and her breathing hitches at the sight.

She isn’t sure how long he spends kissing the sensitive skin of her thighs while his hands are moving over her body, but by the time he’s licking through her, she’s keening and writhing, needing more. His tongue is strong, pushing inside of her and then licking broad stripes through her folds until he’s sucking on her clit.

“Fuck!” Her back arches at the sudden pressure on her clit, the feeling intense. Somewhere through hazy pleasure she can tell that he’s smirking, satisfied with her reaction. But she doesn’t get the chance to give it much thought because his fingers are inside of her, moving, curling, twisting and her entire body reacts to it.

Aaron can feel her start to clench his fingers and he knows that she’s getting close. He focuses on what he’s doing, pushing his fingers against the same spot and sucks and licks over her clit and when smooth thighs start to squeeze around his head he only doubles his effort.

“I- I’m gonna- fuck Aaron, I’m coming!” She cries out as she falls over the edge, muscles tense as she rides out her pleasure. Her body felt like it was weightless, and as she starts to come down from her high, she can feel Aaron kiss slowly up her body. The laugh that erupts from her is unexpected, and the second he’s face to face with her again she pulls him into a kiss.

“Thank you.” She mumbles against his lips and he only smiles, something predatory in his eyes.

“That was one, let’s see if we can get you to two.” He flips her around and then takes a pillow and pushes it underneath her hips. “What do you like?” His voice is low as he leans over her back, lips by her ear and she shivers.

“Don’t be afraid to get rough.” She turns her head to look at him and he smirks.

“What else?” He licks along her spine and she gasps at the heat of him against her.

“I’ve never come without clit stimulation.” Her hips push back against his and when the hot smear of him stains her thigh she swallows down a moan. “A-and talking helps.”

“Dirty talk?” He rubs his cock through her folds and waits for her answer.

“Yeah, especially your voice.” Her cheeks burn from her admission and she’s happy that he can’t see her face.

“My voice huh?” He grabs her hip with one hand, keeping her still as he slowly pushes forward. “Good to know.”

“Oh my God.” She whimpers, the breathy sounds quickly turning into louder moans when he immediately sets a fast pace behind her.

“Fuck you feel good.” He straddles the back of her thighs and leans back over her as he mutters against the back of her ear. “Like you were made for me, perfect for me. My perfect thing.”

She bites down on her own hand to keep the wanton moan from erupting, something about his voice and his possessiveness driving her wild. She pushes her hip back against him, the groans coming making her flush with want.

They stay like that, Aaron grunting filth in her ear as Emily moans and whimpers, but he can tell that it isn’t enough, even when he gets his hand underneath her to toy with her clit. But he lets her take charge, enjoys the way she feels, the softness of her skin, the taste of sweat on her body until he can tell she’s getting frustrated and he slows.

“Can I ride you?” She asks, voice close to desperate and he growls at the sound. He lays on his back and watches with heated eyes as she moves to straddle him.

“You look so good like this.” He marvels at the sight of her above him, his hands landing on her waist as she sinks down on him with a low gasp. She supports herself on his chest, her nails digging into him as she starts moving. He watches her for a while, enjoys the way her tight walls cling to his shaft and the visual of Emily riding him. Then he bends his legs and starts to push up against her and she whines at the sudden movement.

“A-again.” She begs as she leans back, one hand supporting herself on his thigh while the other moves down to rub her clit. He takes notice of how she does it, stores that information for later and continues to thrust up into her. He moves one hand to her chest, pulls one nipple and then moves to the other when she nods.

“God you’re gorgeous, soaking my lap.” His words make her hips buckle and her hand speed up between her legs.

“C-close.” The heat in her stomach was building, her body chasing her release and if she wasn’t so focused on the way he made her feel she would have been astounded that she was close to coming for a second time, something that had never happened to her before.

“Do it, come for me.” He grits out as she start to spasm on top of him, jaw slacked and eyes rolling back in her head. She grunts as she comes, her fingers rubbing quickly and Aaron moving underneath her keeping her from coming down completely until she slumps in blissful exhaustion.

“Oh my God, I can’t believe that just happened.” She smiles lazily and doesn’t stop him when he lays her back on the bed on her side. When he spoons her from behind she sighs happily, her leg coming to rest over his hip as she slides back inside of her.

“How does that feel?” He husks against her neck, one arm sneaking underneath her to cup her breast while the other hand grips her thigh.

“So good, you feel so good.” She mumbles as her own hand moving to gently grasp at his neck, her fingers pulling on his hair. “Keep going.”

Aaron bit down on the back of her shoulder as he started to pump his hips against hers. He’s getting close to his own orgasm, can feel it growing by every thrust and when Emily squeezes around him he knows she can tell.

“I want you to come inside of me.” She turns just enough to kiss him, her tongue swiping over his bottom lip. “I want to feel all of it.”

“Fuck Em.” He grabs her harder, keeps her tight against him as he ruts against her, his movements becoming sloppy. “I’m going to make you come every which way, going to make you come until you’re begging me to stop.” The words are mumbles and hushed, words he wasn’t even sure he was saying falling from his lips as Emily let out needy whimpers and moans.

She feels him stilling behind her not much later, the sound of her name muffled against her neck as he bites a bruise into her skin, the heat of his release inside of her soon making her squirm. Only when his grip on her loosened did she turn, breathless and dazed as he hugged her close to his chest.

 “Was that too much?” He asks after their breathing had returned to normal, Emily drawing random patterns on his chest as he slowly stroked her back.

“No, it was amazing.” She lifted her head and pressed a soft kiss to his lips.

“And tonight was just the beginning.” He grabbed the back of her neck to keep her from pulling away. “We’re going to have so much fun.”

[ssaemilyhotchner]

Hey congratulations on the milestone 🥳

Can I request letter A 🫶🏻

hope you enjoy & ty for participating! 🌹

OTHER 1K DRABBLES | Read on AO3 Join the celebration by requesting a letter!

letter: A | prompt: adrenaline | wc: 2.1k | cw: alcohol, mostly just them making out bc Emily doesn't get her way lol | a/n: Post-ep for 7x15, "A Thin Line."

Please do not repost (reblogs welcome) or otherwise claim as your own.

--

“Prentiss.”

Without looking up from her desk, Emily simply made an unintelligible noise in response.

“Come on, Emily.” Hotch’s voice was gentle yet insistent. He’d been watching her stare blankly at her after-action report for nearly an hour, her leg bouncing rapidly all the while. Idly, he wondered if she’d even be able to bear weight on the leg and found himself moving in a little closer in case he needed to steady her. “I’m taking you home.”

Emily finally raised her gaze to meet his. “I don’t want to go home.”

He nodded knowingly. He had expected as much, knew what the weight of silence in an empty apartment felt like, especially after a case like this one. “Then let’s get a drink. You shouldn’t be alone right now.”

Emily studied him for a long while: the strength in the set of his jaw, the sharp angle of his body, his hand heavy on the back of her chair. What she really wanted was to be reckless, anything to stave off the dread that had weaseled its way under her skin. Running herself ragged at the gym, maybe, or getting into a fight, or fucking a stranger.

But, she conceded, in lieu of those, there were worse ways to cap the evening than at O’Keefe’s with Hotch. 

--

From the moment they set foot in the bar, their eyes were everywhere but on each other. Even with the bass of the unrecognizable song pounding through them like a heartbeat, silence pressed pointedly between them as Hotch’s mind raced. As he thought about how everything had narrowed to the sight of her emerging from Hilary Ross’s home, blood snaking bright red down her fingers. As he thought about the way fear had dried his mouth, tasting bitter on his tongue.

She had been quick to reassure everyone that she was okay, of course, a demonstration of overcompensation that had only made him more apprehensive. He knew she could feel his eyes on her during their flight home, especially as Morgan had moved to sit by her, clutching her good hand in apology. He had watched Emily’s lips twist teasingly as she once again assured the other man that San Bernardino was not an echo of that warehouse in Boston just a year before.

He had watched as Morgan rose and returned to his previous seat, and Emily’s careful mask crumpled ever so slightly around the edges.

He had watched as her gaze found his and held it, a challenge.

“I’m okay.”

Hotch blinked in surprise; he hadn’t expected she would be the one to broach the topic. He took a long pull of his beer. “It’s okay if you’re not.”

That earned him a trademark Prentiss glare. His lips twitched at the sight, glad her fight wasn’t gone entirely. “I know,” she replied testily.

“Do you? Because your thumb is bleeding from where you’re picking and I don’t think you’ve noticed.” He watched as she snapped back into her body and reached across their small booth for a napkin to staunch the small crescent of blood. “Your first injury in the field since Doyle, and with Morgan as your partner nonetheless,” he said carefully. “What you’re feeling is understandable, Emily.”

“Hotch,” she warned, before downing the rest of her negroni. “Your projecting isn’t exactly making me feel better.”

He raised his hands slightly. “I’m not projecting. I’m just looking out for a friend.”

She knew he was right, of course; no amount of overcompensating could make her do Morgan’s healing for him, but when she closed her eyes, she could still see the all too familiar look on his face as he registered her injury. She didn’t want to be thinking about any of that right now, though, and she certainly didn’t want the play-by-play of her boss profiling her in real time. 

Emily grumbled something that sounded a lot like who died and made you my therapist then pushed herself up onto her feet. “I need another drink.”

--

“I want to dance,” Emily said, several shots later. “And I want you to come with me.”

Hotch frowned pointedly at her sling. “Emily, you need to go home and rest.”

“You’re so serious,” she whined. “Come on, Hotch. Loosen up for a night,” she said with a devious smile. She traced a slender finger around the rim of his glass of whiskey, toying with the idea of getting him another drink—anything to get the tension out of his body. “Please? For me?”

Hotch eyed her pretty pout warily—he had always been a sucker for her doe eyes, and he was beginning to think she knew—then stood and extended his hand. “One dance.”

“Excellent.”

They both knew it wouldn’t just be one. 

Emily hummed contently as they moved in tandem to the beat of the music. His touch was light and respectful but warm, and she found herself leaning into it more and more. Inhibitions blissfully lowered, she dropped her fingers to the curve of his arm to trace a vein there, causing his hip to stutter accidentally against hers. Her gaze snapped up to his then, and her heart pounded at the look of obvious want in his eyes. Her resulting smile was beatific.

“What’s making you smile like that?” Hotch murmured, the low thrum of his voice only stoking her need.

“Nothing,” she said sweetly, biting her bottom lip and watching as his eyes flicked down to her mouth, then back up.

He chuckled. “You’re not a very good liar when you’re tipsy.”

“But you have to admit, I’m a pretty good dancer for someone who got shot less than 24 hours ago,” she said brightly, before looping her good arm around his neck and closing the space between them—the space he’d been trying diligently, if not half-heartedly, to keep.

“That you are.”

Fuck, she felt good as she moved against him. He vaguely registered the alarm bells sounding at the back of his mind at the heat building between them, but Hotch couldn’t think beyond the fact that this was Emily and she was in his arms, just like he had wanted for years. Every glance through his blinds at her in the bullpen, every cup of coffee delivered to him with a smile, every swish of her ponytail when they were paired together in the field, all of it building and cooling and culminating here.

“You were right, by the way,” he said eventually. She made a curious noise in response, the sound turning into a giggle at the shiver she pulled from him as her thumb traced mindless little patterns at the very top of his spine. “I was projecting. I didn’t want you to be alone this evening…but I didn’t want to be, either. I needed to see that you were okay.”

Emily looked up at him, besotted, then took his hand in hers and placed it over her chest. He clenched his jaw at the action; he could feel her heart, strong and racing at his touch, and was instantly consumed by the need to find every way he could elevate her heartbeat. To feel her heartbeat at every join of her, every join of them.

“Feel that?” she whispered, cutting through his reverie. “I’m okay.”

--

He hadn’t meant to kiss her back. Really, he hadn’t.

One minute, they were dancing, their bodies moving in sync as they toed the line of propriety with stolen touches, a nose against a cheek; the next, she was silencing his laugh by pressing her lips to his, rejoicing at the groan that rattled in the back of his throat as he felt her tongue coaxing his mouth open.

Hotch’s grip on her hips tightened, but the taste of gin and campari in her sweet mouth made him channel all of his restraint and pull away. “Emily—”

She moved her lips to the corner of his mouth. “If you even try to stop this,” she whispered, “I will break your jaw.”

Hotch barked out a surprised laugh. “Sweet talker,” he said dryly. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

Emily grinned widely. “I like the sound of that.”

As he piled her into the car, Hotch felt a pang of guilt at the victorious expression that had flickered across Emily’s face. He knew what she was craving; she needed a release, she needed him, but no matter how much he wanted the same, he knew he couldn’t follow through. Not tonight.

Finally reaching Emily’s place after much giggling and wandering fingers at stop lights, Hotch watched amusedly as she threw herself onto her couch. “Can I get you anything?” He eyed the Bialetti on her stovetop before sitting down beside her. “Some espresso to sober you up?”

“I’m not drunk,” she countered unconvincingly.

He snorted. “How about a different method? Dave shared a hangover trick with me when I was still fresh out of the Seattle field office. You’d just need amaro, which feels like something Emily Prentiss would keep around.”

She gave a throaty laugh at that and the sound sent a coil of pleasure through him. “I do have amaro. You are not the only one Dave has ever plied with expensive alcohol and gotten drunk. But,” she said, holding his gaze, “I don’t want to talk about Dave anymore.”

And at that, she straddled him. 

Hotch’s eyes fell shut at the press of Emily’s body against his. There was something about her that triggered the most visceral reactions from him, his throat constricting and chest tightening as her teeth found the shell of his ear, the sensitive spot right below it. Perhaps it was that he had imagined this so many times before: imagined unraveling her carefully constructed exterior and coming undone to her, with her, imagined finding her pulse point with his mouth and sucking hard enough to leave a bruise, only now he was actually doing it and she was whining and it was the most exquisite sound he had ever heard. 

Emboldened by the sear of his mouth on her neck, Emily reached for him with renewed determination and urgency, fisting a hand in his shirt and making to tug it upwards over his head. It was the jolt to the present that Hotch needed, and he forced himself away, panting heavily. He wanted her to keep going, wanted to feel her, wanted to press his mouth to more of her, cut through her anxiety and adrenaline right to the core of her and make her fly apart; but instead he dropped his face in the curve of her collarbone and left a kiss there. “Emily, you have no idea how hard it is for me to stop you right now,” he ground out, “but we shouldn’t do this tonight.”

“I think I have a pretty good idea how hard you are,” she purred, rocking her hips against his and rejoicing in his resulting whispered fuck. “I want you, Hotch.”

“And I want you, too. I have for years.” Hotch smiled a little at the pretty blush that colored her already ruddy cheeks at his words. “But regardless of how eloquently you protest, I’m going to feel like I’m taking advantage of you right now,” he said as she opened her mouth to interject, “and I don’t want this to be something you regret tomorrow morning.”

Ghosting her lips against his in a barely-there kiss, Emily slowly shook her head. “I could never regret this,” she whispered. 

“Please, Emily,” Hotch said a final time, stilling her hand as she tried taking her own shirt off this time. He rose to his feet, Emily still wrapped snugly around him. “Not like this. We need to get you to bed.”

“That’s what I’ve been trying to do this whole time,” she said cheekily; but she followed him obediently, flashing him an inviting smile once she had stretched out across her bed. She watched him hungrily as he raked his gaze over her and swallowed thickly. 

Needing the distraction, Hotch slipped away to find ibuprofen and fill her a glass of water. When he returned, she had dressed down and removed her sling, and was staring at him as if he were stupid, but he just shook his head and sat in bed beside her. “You’ve had a really hard day,” he said gently, running a hand through her silky hair. “When the alcohol and adrenaline wear off tomorrow, I’ll be right here, okay?”

“Sometimes I hate that you’re such a good guy,” she said with a concessional sigh; but when she looked at him, all he saw reflected in her gaze was admiration.

Hotch couldn’t help but crack a smile at that. “I’m sorry.”

Emily laughed then, lolling her head to the side to peer at him with tired eyes. “Thanks, Hotch,” she said softly.

“Of course, Emily.”

She was out in a matter of minutes.

[justagirl-purplejellosg1]

So it goes - Taylor Swift (Hotchniss version)

And all the pieces fall, right into place

Getting caught up in a moment

Lipstick on your face,

So it goes

I'm yours to keep and I'm yours to lose

You know I'm not a bad girl

But I do bad things with you

So it goes

[emily12o1970]

I just wanted to get a feel for what people what to read. Personally I think that Emily Prentiss is totally Gay, but if she were to be put with some one on the team it would definitely be Hotch.