#aaron x emily

[sequinsmile-x]

Develop

She can’t but smile as she steps back, her eyes fixed on them and the tree lighting them up from behind. Matching smiles on their faces and obvious happiness despite everything they’d survived. She feels a familar pull towards her purse, her camera all but calling out to her, and she sinks her teeth into her lower lip.

“Wait there one second,” she says, digging through her purse where she’d dumped it on the couch, “I’ve got to get a picture of this.”

AKA - Five times Emily takes a picture of Aaron and Jack, and one time she's in it.

-x-

Hi besties <3

This is for the lovely @astridncs, who loves all things Hotchniss, as well as Emily and Jack. I hope you enjoy this, and that it fits what you wanted from your prompt <3

This…got sadder at the start than I intended. But what's new?!

As always, let me know what you think <3

-x-

Warnings: none

Words: 7.2k

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

One

Emily had always loved taking photos. 

For her 14th birthday, her parents bought her a Nikon FA. She knew it was mostly her father’s doing, that he paid more attention to her interests than her mother did, and she loved it. She took photos at every given opportunity, forced the few friends to pose for pictures because it was something tangible she’d remember them by when she inevitably had to move and start all over again. She did the same with her parents - would make them stand together so she could capture one moment in time, so she could look at it again when her films were developed, her fingers tracing over her parent's smiles as she pretended that was what their life was like all the time. 

Her father’s death just before her 15th birthday only cemented her love of photography. After his funeral, when she’d spent the day standing next to her mother and accepted sympathy from people she’d never met, she’d sat on her bed and looked at pictures of him. She held them so tightly she’d creased them, desperate to hold on to what she had left of her father. 

She was determined after that to take photos of everything. The following summer, John and Matthew both teased her whenever she pulled her camera out, all three of them unaware of what lay ahead for them as they posed together in Rome, all skipping school for a day as they explored the city she would one day look back on and not be able to think of its beauty, only the pain it had caused her. 

She always made sure she had her camera with her when she went anywhere that wasn’t work. She’d upgraded several times over the years, always keen to make sure she had the best camera she possibly could so she could capture all of the important moments. The weight of it and all it represented is heavy in her purse as she waits outside of Aaron’s apartment, a gift bag stuffed full of toys and games for Jack in her other hand. She knew her boss turned friend would say she’d bought Jack too much, his smile and kind and sad as he insisted she only had to get him one thing, but she hadn’t been able to help herself. 

It was his first Christmas without his mother after all. She knew Aaron was struggling, that he was doing his best to make a good Christmas for his son, but Haley’s death was still fresh. A date they’d never forget nestled in amongst his and Jack’s birthdays and the holidays. She hated it for them, hated that they’d always have sadness and loss in the corners of everything they did, so she was trying to help where she could. Last weekend she’d gone tree shopping with them, her hand tight around Jack’s as they chose the perfect one, Aaron just behind them as he watched them closely. She’d left them to decorate it themselves, had smiled and shook her head when Aaron asked if she wanted to stay to help, even though she did, because she knew it was important they figured out some traditions on their own. 

She fixes a smile on her face when the door opens, and she feels a familiar ache in her heart when Aaron’s eyes meet hers, a sadness that seems to chase him everywhere these days written across his face before he can hide it from her. Somewhere along the way, she’d started to think of him as one of her closest friends, if not her closest one. If she was honest with herself, she knew it ran deeper than that, that her feelings for him edged a little too close to love. It was easy to ignore when he was like this, and she could convince herself that her desire to look after him and his little boy came just from friendship - not the love that rolled through her gut whenever she looked at them both. 

“Hi,” she says, smiling softly as she lifts the gift bag to show him, “I thought I’d bring over Jack’s Christmas gifts before it was too late.” 

His eyes go wide when he looks at the bag and he steps back, “You didn’t have to get him so much.” 

She chuckles as she walks past him into his apartment, “There’s a couple of things in here for you too if that makes you feel better.” 

He shakes his head at her, “Well, we’d better get them under the tree,” he says, “He’s just getting ready for bed - prepare yourself to be talked into reading him a story when he realises you’re here.” 

“You know I love that.” She smiles and nods, and her smile gets wider when she looks at the tree.  Jack’s involvement in the decorating was obvious - the ornaments were unevenly spaced out, most of them gathered in one place at about eye level for the four-year-old. Emily was used to perfectly decorated trees. Her mother would always have professional decorators and she wasn’t allowed to help even when she was small and desperate to. She loved that Aaron hadn’t rearranged anything, that he’d left it just as Jack had done it, his love for his son as bright and warm as the lights he’d wrapped around the tree.

Aaron clears his throat, “I know it’s not perfect-”

“No,” she says, turning to smile at him as she starts to place her gifts for them under the tree, “It is perfect.” 

They stare at each other for a moment, his smile real and soft, and not for the first time she finds herself thinking that maybe, just maybe, he may feel the same way about her as she feels about him. The moment is fleeting, torn open by Jack running down the hallway, almost slipping on the hardwood in his Christmas footie pjyamas.

“Emmy!” She stands up straight and opens her arms to him, smiling as he runs at her, his arms tight around her neck as she lifts him and rests him on her hip. 

“Hi kiddo,” she says, stamping a kiss against his cheek, doing it again when he giggles, “I was just telling your Dad about how much I love your tree.” 

“It’s pretty!” He exclaims, “Just like you.” 

She isn’t sure why she blushes, why the casual compliment from the little boy in her arms has warmth spreading through her as she kisses his kiss cheek again, “Thanks, Jack.”

“It’s true,” he says, furrowing his brows, “Daddy said so too-”

“Okay, buddy,” Aaron says, scooping Jack into his arms, his eyes wide and his cheeks a beautiful shade of pink as he cuts his son off, “Emily said she’d love to read you a story before you go to bed.” 

She can’t but smile as she steps back, her eyes fixed on them and the tree lighting them up from behind. Matching smiles on their faces and obvious happiness despite everything they’d survived. She feels a familar pull towards her purse, her camera all but calling out to her, and she sinks her teeth into her lower lip.

“Wait there one second,” she says, digging through her purse where she’d dumped it on the couch, “I’ve got to get a picture of this.”

“You and your camera,” Aaron says, his tone something devastatingly close to loving, and she playfully narrows her eyes at him. 

“Just hold still,” she replies, switching her camera on as she stands just a few feet away from them, “Smile.”

Jack smiles as widely as he can, his arms wrapped tightly around Aaron’s neck. Aaron smiles too, a sadness to it that she knows will be pressed into the picture itself. She looks at the small digital screen as the photo flashes up on it and then shows them as she walks over, smiling as Jack leans into her, his cheek against hers as he tries to get a closer look. 

“Can you read me a story now?” 

She chuckles and turns her head to kiss his cheek, “Of course,” she replies as she puts the camera back in her bag and then she turns to them, “Shall we let Daddy pick the book this time?” 

Jack nods enthusiastically, “Yeah, but you still have to read it. You do the voices better than he does.” 

She looks over at Aaron and smiles when their eyes meet, “You heard the boy.” 

She gets the picture printed and she puts it in a frame. She wraps it and places it on Aaron’s desk in the New Year, a note stuck to it that she’d one day find in her desk drawer. A desk that used to be his. 

This was too cute not to print. It reminded me of all the good that can exist with the bad, and I hope it does the same for you.

Emily x 

___

Two 

The weight of everything she was yet to say was heavy on her shoulders. 

She stays on the outskirts of the celebration, watching her friends - her family - all have fun. Joy and wine flowing amongst them all as they celebrate JJ and Will’s wedding. Somehow, the decision she’d made, the decision to leave even though she’s not entirely sure she ever truly came back, doesn’t make her feel any lighter. It was a relief. She could breathe easier now than she had in weeks, Clyde’s offer as timely as it had been tempting. But she didn’t feel lighter.

She would be leaving so much behind. A life she could have had if she’d just let herself in the rearview mirror as she once again ran away from everything she knew. 

She looks over at Aaron and Beth when she hears the other woman’s laugh and it makes her tense, anger and sadness she knows she has no right to feel coursing through her at the sight of them together. Emily could no longer deny that she was in love with Aaron. It was something she’d come to terms with a long time ago and the saddest part, the thing that kept her up at night, was that she knew he loved her too. 

There was a moment, nestled in between him starting to move forward after Haley's death and Ian coming back to tear her life apart, when they almost happened. He’d kissed her, the only kiss they had ever shared, and asked her on a date. She’d said yes, not having to think about it for a second, and she’d driven home feeling lighter and happier than she had in years. The next day, Sean McAllister called her and nothing was ever the same. 

When she came home, they never spoke about it. She wasn’t ready and he knew that because he knew her, and when she told him one night that she wasn’t sure she’d ever be ready she saw his heartbreak. She hated herself for doing it to him, but in the long run it was kinder. After everything he’d been through he deserved someone with less baggage, someone less complicated.

Someone like Beth. 

It didn’t make it hurt any less to see them together. Somehow, she thinks it hurts more because it was of her own design. If she’d never told him to move on, if she hadn’t insisted that he did, she knew he wouldn’t have. 

She blows out a slow breath and walks over to the bar. She grabs a glass of champagne and turns to watch everyone, her eyes always wandering back to Beth and Aaron. She watches as he holds her close and laughs, the ghost of his palm scalding on her back from when they’d danced as she watches him hold Beth in the same way. 

“You should tell him how you feel.”

She jumps as she turns to look at Dave and she chuckles dryly, “I need to get you a bell or something.” 

“I’m serious, Bella. If he knew you still felt that way, he’d never let you leave. And he certainly wouldn’t still be with Beth.” 

She hums sadly, “That’s why he can’t know.” 

Dave shakes his head, “Emily-”

“Dave, please,” she says, shaking her head at him as she cuts him off, “He deserves more than I can give him. And…I’m not sure if this place could ever be home to me now even if he was okay with that,” she reaches over and squeezes his arm, “It’s easier this way.”

“For who?”

She shrugs and laughs humourlessly, “I haven’t quite figured that part out yet.” 

Their conversation is cut off as Jack runs towards them, his hand wrapping around hers as he starts to tug her back towards the dance floor, “Dance with me, Emmy.” 

She smiles, hoping the little boy can’t see through the sheen of it, that he can’t see her broken heart underneath, “I can never say no to you, sweetheart.” 

She picks him up, groaning as she wonders when he got so big, and she throws Aaron a smile as they end up next to him and Beth. She dances with Jack, smiling and listening to everything he tells her, the little boy talking a mile a minute as he thrives on the excitement of the day. 

Eventually, she slips into the house for a break, to give herself a moment to gather herself, and she sees her purse where she’d left it on Dave’s kitchen counter. She roots through it and grabs her camera, the weight of it heavier than it ever had been as she decided to take the last set of pictures she’d have as someone who lived here, who was part of the day-to-day lives of the people she thought of as her family.

Going forward, she’d be a visitor, and that hurt more than she ever thought possible. 

She walks around Dave’s backyard and she takes pictures of everyone. Of JJ and Will dancing, Henry squished between them. Of Dave and Derek sneaking cigars, a moment they thought they’d get away with captured forever. 

She takes a picture of Jack and Aaron, the young boy stood in front of his father, his smile full of gaps from where he’d recently lost a couple of his teeth. Aaron’s hands are on his shoulders as he almost physically holds him in place, Jack’s excitement close to palpable still. He runs away the moment Aaron lets go, calling out for JJ as he asks if he can play with Henry. 

Emily smiles at Aaron and presses a couple of buttons on her camera, stepping towards him so she can show him the photo, “It’s a good one.” 

He leans in, the smell of his cologne almost overwhelming, tears pressing at the back of her eyes as she swallows thickly, the scent of him something that represented missed opportunities, and the life she could have allowed herself. 

“Oh, I love that one,” he says, his breath skipping over her cheek before he pulls back, “When you get a chance can you send it to me? I don’t have many photos of just the two of us.”  

“Of course,” she says, smiling tightly as she switches the camera off, “When I get home later I���ll put them all on my computer and email it to you.” 

He watches her carefully, and she’s not sure how to feel about how exposed she is, how well he knows her. There was a painful beauty in being known entirely by someone who you couldn’t have. 

“Em-”

“Tomorrow,” she promises him, her smile tighter as she reaches out and squeezes his arm, Beth’s curious gaze from a few feet away burning the back of her neck, “I promise.” 

He nods, concern sparkling in his eyes like the flecks of gold in his irises that she’d fallen in love with a long time ago, “It’s a date,” he says, repeating the words she’d said just a few hours ago.

“Yeah,” she replies, swallowing thickly, “It’s a date.” 

She prints herself a copy of the photo of him and Jack when she’s in London. She keeps it on her mantle amongst other photos of the team despite the ache she feels whenever she sees it. Its presence a penance of some sort for the decisions she’d made that had meant she never got to have Aaron, and the little boy she loved more than life itself, in the way she wanted to. 

___

Three

Her doctor was insistent that she get out of her apartment at least once a day. She’s furious about it, mumbling to herself as she walks around her local park, her hands in her pockets as she tries to keep them warm, but she does it anyway. Desperate to make sure she gets back to full strength after everything that had happened.

Peter Lewis had taken so much from her already, he wasn’t going to take her sanity from her too. 

In the three months since the car crash, since he’d tortured her for information she’d have died to protect, she’d struggled to leave her apartment. She felt equally trapped and terrified to leave, the outside world as big as it had ever been as she looked over her shoulder for a man that was dead whenever she stepped outside. She was used to being haunted, to being chased by the ghost of a man who had tried to kill her, but she’d forgotten what it felt like when it was fresh. How it felt when her body still ached if she moved a little too quickly when she jumped at an unexpected sound. 

She sighs to herself as she checks her watch, and she grumbles when she realises she’s only been walking for 20 minutes. She spots a nearby bench and walks over to sit down. She blows out a slow breath as she closes her eyes, making sure she’s purposeful as she breathes back in, fresh air and feeling she always associated with fall filling her lungs. 

“Emily?” 

She opens her eyes, her breath turning into a gasp at the unexpected voice, one she hadn’t heard in too long. One she hadn’t expected to hear ever again. She stands up, her eyebrows furrowed as she walks towards him, stopping just short of him just in case he disappears. 

“Aaron?” She chokes on a laugh, suddenly aware of her outfit made up of an old pair of leggings and her baggiest sweater covered by her jacket, “What…what are you doing here?” 

He smiles at her and nods behind him, “Jack wanted to come and see his grandfather and Jess, so we came back. I’m surprised Dave didn’t say anything, I told him we were in town.” 

She rolls her eyes as she thinks of their friend and his recommendation that she walk in this park this weekend, and she makes a mental note to tell him off for meddling later. She

 looks in the direction Aaron had nodded towards and she gasps, unsure how the tall gangly pre-teen standing next to Jessica could possibly be the little boy she’d once read bedtime stories to, “Wow, he’s…really grown up.” 

“Yeah,” he replies, his smile wistful and sad as she look at her, “He’ll be taller than me I think,” he says, his eyes sparking, “He’s already taller than you.” 

She laughs, and for a moment it’s like no time has passed at all. Like they were still almost a decade younger and talking around their feelings for each other, “I’m not that much shorter than you.” 

“You are when you aren’t wearing those boots you run around in,” he quips, his smile as gorgeous as she’d always remembered, “I…I heard about everything that happened.” 

She chokes on a dry laugh. During the all too brief conversation they’d had when they called to say that Lewis was dead, she’d purposely left out parts of it. Purposely not told him about what had happened to her in the name of protecting him and his son. She didn’t want a prize for it, didn’t want recognition, she just wanted what she’d always wanted - for him and Jack to be safe and happy. 

“And how did you hear about that?” She asks, raising an eyebrow at him. He smiles again, something she never remembered him doing quite so much, and he shrugs. 

“A little bird told me.” 

She hums, “Is this little bird Italian and too nosey for his own good?” 

He laughs, “Something like that,” he replies, and his smile fades, “Emily-”

“You don’t have to thank me,” she says, her arms tight over her chest as she tries to hold herself together, “It’s what you and I do for each other,” she smiles sadly, “We keep each other safe.” 

Aaron nods, his hands in tight fists by his sides as he tries to stop himself from reaching out for her. He’s nervous. Anxious in a way she hasn’t seen in years. Since he’d stood in the doorway of his apartment one evening what felt like a lifetime ago as he stamped a kiss against her lips, his request that she went on a date with him still echoing around them. It makes hope she hasn’t felt in years spark in her gut, her blood thrumming with it as she thinks that maybe, this time, she’ll allow herself to have what she’d always wanted. 

“At least let me buy you dinner?” He says, trying and failing to act casual, and she couldn’t stop the smile that spreads across her face if she wanted to. She presses her lips together and sighs, the reality that he was just visiting stamping out any hope. 

“Aaron, I…I can’t-”

“I’m assuming since Dave didn’t tell you I was in town, that he didn’t tell you we’re moving back here.” He says casually, as if it wasn’t life-changing, heart-healing, stuff that once again shifts her world on its axis. Her eyes go wide and he chuckles, nervously scratching the back of his head, “Don’t worry, your job is safe. I’m not coming back to the FBI.” 

She shakes her head, not having even thought about work, still overwhelmed by the thought that she was getting him back. She looks over at Jack, smiling as she watches him with Roy and Jessica. 

“You’re staying?”

Aaron nods, stepping closer to her, closing the gap they’d both built over the years. He reaches for her hand and squeezes, their fingers pressed together in a silent promise that they’d talk about everything. That they’d finally get it all figured out. 

“I’m staying.” 

She squeezes his hand tightly, imprints the feeling of being able to do so to memory, the press of his skin against hers something she only had hazy memories of from when he’d visited her in hospital. The dirt from where they’d buried her still clinging to the cuffs of his pants as he sat next to her bed and told her he’d catch Ian and bring her home. It’s how she knows this is real, that she won’t wake up on her couch having fallen asleep.

In her dreams, she’d never been able to recreate his impossible warmth. 

“Okay,” she says, smiling when he looks confused, her teeth sinking into the inside of her cheek as she tries to contain her smile at least a little, “I’ll to dinner with you.” 

He smiles and pulls her into a hug she gladly returns, her cheek against his chest for a moment before he pulls back. He kisses her cheek, and she turns her head, letting his lips catch the corner of hers before she steps back, a giddiness in her veins she hadn’t felt since she was a teenager and untouched by the pain that love could bring. 

“It’s a date,” she says, her smile getting wider as his does at the throwback to a conversation they’d had so long ago. 

“It’s a date,” he repeats, looking over his shoulder to his son, “I should get back. He wanted to come over and say hi, but things with Roy are…”

“It’s okay,” she replies, “We have time.”

He nods, “We do,” he squeezes her hand one more time and lets go, “I’ll call you later so we can plan dinner?”

“My number is the same,” she replies, hesitant to turn away, worried he’d disappear if she did, “I’ll speak to you later?”

“Later,” he promises, and he winks at her before he turns away. She watches him go, shock and awe still thrumming under her skin, and she sighs. 

She digs her phone out of her pocket and takes a picture of Aaron and Jack talking to each other in the distance, smiling as she realises Aaron was right - that Jack is already almost as tall as him. She sends it to Dave along with a message, and she takes one last look at Aaron and Jack before she turns to head home, content for the first time in a long time to believe that things would work out. 

Look who I just so happened to walk into at the park. Your meddling is second to none, old man. 

She laughs when she gets a response almost immediately, and she shakes her head at her friend before she puts her phone back in her pocket. 

Just make sure you remember to thank me at your wedding. 

___

Four 

She’s woken up by a soft kiss against her cheek and a gentle hand drawing circles on her back. She groans, pressing her face into her pillow and she grumbles as Aaron laughs at her.

“Wake up birthday girl,” he says, his voice raspy and gorgeous and hers. She opens one eye and frowns at him, the bite to it lost as he smiles at her. 

“I haven’t been a girl in a long time, honey,” she says, smiling as he leans in to kiss her. Her smile turns curious as she lays her head back on her pillow, “Have you been eating pancake batter?” 

He smiles and encourages her closer, her arms around his waist as she rests her head on his chest, “You’ll have to get out of bed to find out.” 

She hums and turns her head to kiss his chest, “In a minute,” she says, smothering a yawn against his t-shirt, the slight spatter of flour standing out against it making her smile, “I want to lay here for a little bit first.” 

Aaron kisses the top of her head, “Whatever you want, sweetheart. It’s your birthday.” 

There were times when she still couldn’t believe she had this. That she had him. That they had each other. Even now, almost two years since they’d first walked into each other in the park, it still felt surreal sometimes. They’d fallen into the relationship she thinks they should have always had easily. Their first date had lasted almost 48 hours. They’d gone for dinner and then he’d come back to hers and stayed the entire weekend, his smile wry and soft as he explained Jack was with Jessica, and had told him not to come back until Emily was officially his girlfriend. 

They’d told each other they loved each other that weekend. Had laid in amongst her soft sheets, hands trailing across skin they’d imagined for years. It was fast, fast in a way she would have been uncomfortable with if it was anyone else, but it felt right. 

It felt like everything they’d been walking towards for years. 

They lived together in a house they’d chosen between the three of them - Jack just a few paces behind them as he quipped that at least he’d be less likely to walk in on them making out if they had more room than in their old apartment. He was 14 now and she was proud of him, prouder than she thought she had any real right to be. He was Aaron through and through. He was kind and smart, and reserved in a way she found nothing short of adorable, even if he would frown at her if she ever told him that. 

She loved them both, and they both loved her. There were times when she wished she’d had more time with them, the reality that if she’d allowed herself to love Aaron years ago they could have had more. That there could be little girls and boys that were half him and half her. Kids she never knew the names or faces of who would visit her dreams. She’d drown in the could have beens sometimes, but then Jack would make her laugh, or she’d snuggle up against Aaron in bed and she’d remember what she did have - a life she’d once convinced herself she didn’t deserve. 

“What do you want to do today?” Aaron asks as he trails his fingers up and down her arm. She tilts her head to look at him and stamps her lips against his, her hand on his cheek as she holds him in place. 

“I just want to hang out with you and Jack,” she says, kissing him again, her smile wide as she pulls back, “And maybe by starting with those pancakes you two are making me.” 

He chuckles and kisses her forehead, “Speaking of the pancakes - Jack sent me up here because they are almost ready.” 

She smiles widely, “He’s in charge today, huh?” 

“He insisted,” Aaron says, kissing her once more before he unwraps himself from around her so they can both get out of bed, “He barely let me help.” 

She shrugs his robe over her shoulders and ties it around her waist, grabbing her phone from the nightstand to drop it into the robe's pockets before she walks towards him. She takes a moment to breathe in his scent on the fluffy soft material, humming contentedly when he wraps his arms around her, letting her breathe him in from the source. 

“I love you,” she says, suddenly overwhelmed by it as she looks up at him. She runs her fingers through his hair, smiling at the salt and pepper at his temples, “I love you so much.” 

“I love you too, sweetheart,” he replies, his hand on her lower back as he tugs her closer, “I’m glad we made it here.” 

“Me too,” she replies, stamping her lips against his. The kiss is lost to a laugh as Jack yells up the stairs, an irritated tone to his voice that only a teenager could manage. 

“Dad, Emily, the pancakes are ready. Stop making out and come downstairs.” 

Emily chuckles and she wraps both of her arms around one of Aaron’s as they walk out of their bedroom, “He’s so stern,” she says, smiling up at her boyfriend as they head down the stairs, “I wonder where he gets it from.” 

“It’s a mystery,” Aaron deadpans before winking at her as they walk into the kitchen. He smiles as she gasps at the spread of food on the kitchen island, the marble of it almost entirely covered in plates of pancakes, bacon, pastries and fruit. “Happy birthday, sweetheart.” 

She smiles at him, but is pulled into a hug by Jack before she can say anything else, and she hugs him back immediately. 

“Happy birthday, Emily.” 

“Thanks, kiddo,” she replies, kissing his cheek before she pulls back, smiling at the spread of food in front of her, “You’ve both been busy.” 

“We wanted to do all your favourites,” Jack says, “Dad even went out first thing this morning to that bakery you like.” 

She turns to her boyfriend, her smile so wide her cheeks ached with it, “That’s all the way across town.” 

He shrugs like it doesn’t mean everything that he did that for her, “It’s your birthday.” 

She shakes her head lovingly at him and then back at all the food, “Well, we should get started,” she says, digging through the pocket of Aaron’s robe to grab her phone, “But I want a picture of you with you both with it all first.” 

Jack groans and rolls his eyes, “But Emily-”

“There’s no point in arguing with her, buddy,” Aaron says, smiling as he wraps his arm around his son’s shoulders, “The sooner we let her take the photo, the sooner we can eat.” 

Jack sighs but nods in agreement, a smile painted across his face as Emily takes the picture. She sends it to the BAU group chat, knowing they’d get a kick out of seeing Aaron so casual, and then she slips her phone back into her pocket. 

She had breakfast with her boys to enjoy.

___

Five

It had been, without a doubt, the happiest day of her life. 

She sighs contently as she sits down, looking around the backyard she’d once broken her own heart in at JJ’s wedding. Emily wished she could go back and tell herself that it would all work out in the end, that she’d take the time she needed to heal, that she’d almost forget this was something she’d ever wanted, but that she’d eventually get it all. 

She smiles as her husband walks towards her, his bowtie he’d insisted on how undone and hanging loose around his unbuttoned collar. He sits next to her and she kisses him as soon as he’s close enough, unable to get enough of him today of all days. 

“Hey handsome,” she murmurs against his lips, her hand on his cheek as she holds him in place. 

“Hi,” he replies, smiling so widely her lips only catch the corners of his, “How are you feeling?” 

She hums and rests her head on his shoulder, looking back out at their guests, members of the BAU - past and present - all dancing and laughing together, “I’m perfect.” 

He chuckles and kisses her cheeks, “I’ve been telling you that for years. Now you believe me.” 

She rolls her eyes at him, “You’re cheesy.” 

“I’m allowed to be on our wedding day.” 

She smiles, completely unable to stop herself, and she leans in to kiss him again, “Okay, I’ll let it go today,” she hums contentedly against his lips, “Today was…”

She drifts off, entirely unsure how to put it into words, how to explain even after all this time how she felt about him. But he knows, because of course he does, and he simply reaches for her hand, his fingers tangled through hers as he lifts their joint hands to kiss her knuckles. 

“I know, baby,” he says, “I know.” 

“I…” she clears her throat, not wanting to cry, again, today, “I’m so glad we made it here.” 

Aaron wraps his arm around her shoulders and holds her close, his lips against her forehead as he presses love and comfort in equal measure against her skin, “Me too, sweetheart. I never doubted we would.” 

She scoffs as she pulls back to look at him, her eyebrow raised and her eyes full of love and mirth, “Really? Even when we lived on different continents, were in relationships with other people and you were in hiding?” 

He shrugs, his smile soft and entirely hers, a spark in his eyes she wouldn’t have thought he was capable of when they first met, “Even then.” 

She rolls her eyes at him and captures his chin in her hand, tugging him in for a kiss, “You’re a ridiculous man, Aaron Hotchner,” she kisses him again, “But you’re my ridiculous man.” 

“Your’s forever,” he says, rubbing his nose against hers, and she nods, her lungs stuffed full of love for him and their life together. 

“Mine forever.” 

They sit there for a moment, their foreheads pressed together as they soak each other in, but they are interrupted by a loud laugh from JJ and Penelope reminding them that they aren’t alone.

“Later?” Aaron says, and she nods, her fingers tangled around his loose bow tie. 

“Later,” she confirms, and she smiles at him, “I need to get a picture of you and Jack before you lose any more of your tux, ” she says tugging at the bow tie again, her smile getting wider at his loving eye roll. 

“I knew you’d say that,” he says, standing up and beckoning over his son. Jack runs over immediately, none of the usual arguing about taking a picture anywhere to be found, and the matching mischievous smiles on his and Aaron’s faces make her narrow her eyes. 

“What are you two up to?” 

“Nothing, sweetheart,” Aaron says, his hands in his pockets as he stands next to Jack, “Take your photo.” 

She hums, not believing him for a second, but she picks her phone up from the table regardless, her focus briefly on it as she opens up the camera app. When she looks back up at them she laughs loudly, shaking her head at the sight of them with their shirts now unbuttoned. They were each wearing a t-shirt with a different photo print screened on it - Jack’s with the one she’d taken of them in front of the Christmas tree years ago, and Aaron’s with the one from JJ’s wedding in this very place. She shakes her head as she stands up, already taking photos of them, wanting as many of this moment as she could possibly have.

“You two are lucky I love you,” she says, pretending to grumble in a way they all know is fake. 

“We really are, sweetheart,” Aaron says, winking at her when Jack groans with embarrassed disgust, “We really are.” ___

+ One 

She makes sure she has her phone with her several times before they leave the house. She simply glares at her husband when he smiles at her as he tells her she’s more likely to leave it behind if she keeps taking it out of her purse to check it is there. He kisses her in response, his lips against her cheek and then her lips as he tells her it would be fine, that she had her phone and he had his, and that he had the mobile battery pack just in case she took enough photos she ran out of battery. 

She doesn’t tell him that she saw him making sure he had enough storage on his phone last night, doesn’t remind him that they’d sat up in bed, her cheek against his shoulder as they scrolled through all the photos of Jack in his favourites folder. She simply lets him make gentle fun of her, well aware that focusing on lovingly teasing his wife was a way of distracting him from what was happening today, another milestone in Jack’s life that seemed to be slipping through their fingers. 

It was, after all, his son’s high school graduation. 

Jack had looked achingly grown up when he’d left the house that morning. He’d asked if he could head there with his friends, if they could meet him there and be on their best behaviour, and neither one of them had the heart to say no. Emily kept shifting between being sad about the boy she loved as her own becoming a man, and worrying about her husband, the same melancholy in his smile that he’d have every time he was reminded Jack was growing up.

Every time he was reminded of all the things that Haley missed out on. 

Even now, she knew that his guilt lingered. That he could never entirely shake off the thought that he’d been responsible for Haley’s head and for costing his son his mother. Emily had spent years doing everything she could assuring him that it wasn’t the case, that he’d done what Haley had asked - that he’d raised their son with love and joy. Sometimes, all she could do was hold him close, hug his head to her chest and remind him of everything he did have. Of the life they’d built together for them and Jack, and the promises he’d kept to help make that happen. 

She squeezes his hand when they arrive at the ceremony, and she throws him a wink when he smiles down at her. 

“You ready?” She asks, and he blows out a shaky breath, leaning down to kiss her cheek as they look for their seats. She chuckles and squeezes his hand, throwing a look at Jack in his seat amongst all the other graduates, her smile only getting wider when he shakes his head at them, “I think PDA counts as not being on our best behaviour.” 

Aaron laughs and waves at his son, his smile getting wider when Jack shakes his head, the smile on his face letting them both know he wasn’t actually embarrassed by them. He finds their seats, smiling as Jessica waves them over to their spot. “We should sit down.” 

She keeps both of her hands wrapped around Aaron’s throughout the ceremony, only disconnecting one of them from him when it’s Jack’s turn to walk across the stage so she can take photos on her phone. When they find him afterwards, she stands back as Aaron pulls Jack into a hug, one he returns gratefully, and she sneaks a few photos of that moment too, knowing she’d want to return to it again and again on the bad days. 

“Okay,” she says, getting their attention and making her look at them. She smiles when Jack rolls his eyes, “Just play ball for a few seconds and then I’ll stop.” 

Jack chuckles and rolls his eyes again, a trait Aaron always liked to say he’d picked up from her, “Mom, give the phone to Aunt Jess, you need to be in the picture.”

It had been a few years since he’d started to call her mom. Since Emily had given way to the name she never thought she’d get to have. It had happened overnight, one day he called her the name he always had and the next she was his mom. Aaron had told her afterwards that Jack had been toying with the idea for a long time, that he’d been unsure how to broach it because he didn’t want to upset anyone. In the end, Roy’s passing had been the last push he’d needed, the death of his grandfather - and the bitterness towards Aaron that had died with him - letting Jack finally do what he’d wanted to do for years. 

He always said he was lucky enough to have two moms - one who’d loved him when he was small, and one who loved him now, who had helped shape him into the man he was becoming. 

Emily smiles and turns to Jess, unsurprised to find her already holding out her hand for her phone, “Thanks.” 

She stands in between Jack and Aaron, both of them towering over her, and she wraps her arms around them both. 

“Now, I know you’re not used to being on this side of the camera,” Aaron jokes, his smile only getting wider when she pinches his side, “So make sure you smile.” 

She shakes her head as Jack laughs from her other side, and she looks at the camera, smiling as Aaron squeezes her waist, his thumb tracing back and forth over her hip. A small show of his love for her, a much needed reminder of everything she had now, of the fact it was real, as she stood between her husband and her son.

“Okay,” Jess says, holding up Emily’s phone to take the picture, “Smile.” 

She smiles, because what else could she do when she was this happy. 

[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]

would like to suggest a hotchniss christmas fic that's basically the song "i saw mommy kissing santa claus"

omg YES. YES.

Here you go bestie xo

-x-

I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus

Evie Hotchner sees something on Christmas Eve that she doesn't think she should have seen.

AKA - the one in which I've written exactly what you think I've written.

-x-

Warnings: None

Words: 2.1k

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

“You excited for tomorrow, Mommy?” 

Emily smiles and puts the book she’d been holding down on her lap as she turns to her daughter, “I am, baby. I love Christmas.” 

Evie’s smile gets wider, the three year old no closer to sleep than she was when she’d brought her up to bed 40 minutes ago, “Me too!! Lots of presents.” 

“Lots of presents,” Emily chuckles and kisses her forehead, thinking of all the gifts hidden in the attic that she’d promised to help her husband with once the kids were in bed. 

“And it’s Zaccy’s first Christmas,” she says, her eyebrows furrowing, the serious look that she’d inherited from Aaron spreading across her face, “Will Santa know about him?” 

Emily runs her fingers through her hair, an old trick that had helped to send her to sleep since she was a baby, and she tugs Evie closer, the love she had for her little brother enough to make Emily want to cry.

When she was first pregnant with Issac, she’d worried about Evie’s reaction to becoming a big sister. Since she was a tiny newborn, she’d always been all about Emily, desperate for her mother’s affection and attention at any given moment. It had made those early days long, when she’d refuse to settle for Aaron - something that Emily knew upset him - and she’d sit up in bed with Evie asleep on her chest because it was the only place she’d sleep for longer than 10 minutes. When they brought Issac home, the final missing piece to their family, and Evie was complacent about him at best,  Aaron assured Emily that their little girl would be fine, that there would be an adjustment period for all of them, but that she loved her little brother even if she didn’t know it yet. 

He was right, just like he was more often than Emily would care to admit, and Evie was obsessed with her little brother now. Sometimes they’d find her asleep on his bedroom floor, curled under her bedding that she’d pulled in after her with her favourite stuffed animal in her arms. 

“Yes,” she says, kissing her forehead again, “Santa knows about Zaccy, don’t worry,” she smiles as she thinks of the 6-month-old sleeping in the next room, “And remember what we said - he’s small so he doesn’t understand it all yet.” 

“It okay, I open his presents.” 

She chuckles, “Okay, sweet girl, you need to go to sleep.”

Evie sighs like she has the weight of the world on her shoulders, “I’m too excited to sleep.” 

She hums and continues to run her fingers through her hair, smiling to herself as she tells her daughter the only white lie she’d ever tell her, “But Santa won’t come if you don’t sleep.”

Evie’s eyes go wide before she squeezes them shut, her grip on Emily’s shirt getting tighter, “I go to sleep now.” 

Emily kisses the top of her head and picks the book back up, holding it with one hand whilst the other still plays with her little girl’s hair as she reads to her. She slowly feels Evie get heavier as she falls asleep, her grip on her shirt loosening just as Emily finishes the book. She sneaks out from under Evie and tucks the covers around her, dropping a kiss against her temple before she slips out of the room, making sure she’s quiet as she pulls the door closed behind her. She checks on Issac and Jack, relieved to find them both asleep, and heads downstairs. 

She smiles when she walks into the living room to find the presents all gathered around the tree already, toys and books she’d spent weeks agonising over all wrapped up and ready for her three kids to tear into them all in seconds. She sometimes had to pinch herself when she thought about the fact that this was her life. She had a family of her own, one she’d built together with the love of her life, and she was able to give her children the Christmases she’d always wanted when she was a kid herself. 

Aaron would always gently make fun of her and her love of the holidays, his smile wide and full of love as he patiently stood next to her as she picked out decorations and sparkling lights. It never went further than a playful comment or a raised eyebrow because he knew how important it was to her. 

She hears his footsteps behind her, and she turns, “Sorry, honey, I would have helped but Evie…” she trails off when she sees him, her words turning into a laugh as she’s met with the sight of him in the Santa Claus outfit they’d bought and hidden with all the gifts. He’d insisted on it, his eyes full of excitement as he said he’d surprise the kids with it, something she knew was his own attempt to give them what he’d never had, “Why are you wearing that?” 

He shrugs and pulls the fake beard down, “I wanted to check that it fits,” he asks, and she watches as he turns as if he’s trying out a new suit for work, “What do you think?” 

She hums, love for him thrumming under her skin, “It looks good.” 

He chuckles and raises an eyebrow at her, “Santa? Really?” 

She rolls her eyes and slaps his shoulder lightly, smiling when he captures her hand and kisses her knuckles, “No,” she exclaims, her nose scrunched up with disgust, “Not like that.” 

Aaron leans in to kiss her, “I know that look, Issac exists because of that look.”

She shakes her head at him and wraps her arms around his neck, her fingers curled around the bobble on the end of his Santa hat, “It’s not the Santa suit,” she says, stamping her lips against his, “It’s you being such a good Dad.” 

He hums against her lips, “Love you.” 

She pulls back just enough to speak, her lips skimming his as her breath skips across his face, “I love you too.”

She kisses him again, and they get lost in each other, both of them too distracted to hear a quiet gasp from the doorway followed by their little girl's footsteps on the hardwood floor as she runs back upstairs to her bedroom.

__

Emily wakes up at the sound of a bedroom door opening down the hall, closely followed by thundering footsteps. 

“Incoming,” Aaron says from behind her, his voice rough from sleep and misuse as he encourages her closer with the arm thrown over her waist. She has just enough to turn and kiss him before the door opens, Evie and Jack speaking in unison from the doorway, Issac smiling widely in Jack’s arms, his tiny hands already reaching out for his mom.

“Merry Christmas!” 

Emily and Aaron both sit up as they smile at their children, beckoning them over to the bed as Aaron switches on the lamp on his nightstand.

“Merry Christmas,” Emily says as she opens her arms up to take Issac from Jack. She kisses the baby’s cheek several times in a row, “It’s your first Christmas, sweet boy,” she kisses his cheek again, “Are you excited?”

“He was already awake when we went into his room,” Jack says as he settles on the bed in between his parents, “He was just sitting there like he was waiting.” 

“Were you waiting for your brother and sister?” She smiles as she settles Issac into her lap, “My patient little guy.”  Issac was Aaron all the way through, his quietness in comparison to his older sister already pronounced at only 6-months-old. Emily had lost sleep in the early weeks of his life for an entirely different reason to Evie’s, so used to how her little girl had cried for hours at a time that she was convinced something was wrong with her newborn son. She turns to look at Evie who was sitting in Aaron’s lap, her attention focused on a loose thread on the hem of his t-shirt, “Are you okay, sweet girl?” 

Evie shrugs and doesn’t look up at her, and Emily and Aaron exchange a concerned look. He adjusts his hold on the toddler so she’s looking at him. 

“Do you want to go give Mommy a Christmas cuddle?” He asks, trying to pull a smile out of her by tickling her, and she shakes her head fiercely, holding on to him tightly. 

“No,” she says, the tone in her voice cutting deeper than Emily thought possible as she looks up at her, “Mommy was naughty.” 

Emily furrows her brow, the serious look on her little girl’s face a vice around her heart as she tries to figure out what she’d done wrong to upset her, “What do you mean, baby?” 

Evie shakes her head again, “Can’t say.” 

Aaron looks at Emily and doesn’t miss the hurt flashing across her face, and he knows he needs to fix whatever is going on before it ruins their first Christmas morning as a family of five, “Princess, you can tell us anything, you know that.” 

The little girl sighs and looks up at her father, her lower lip sticking out as it wobbles ever so slightly, “Mommy kissed someone else,” she says, turning to look at Emily again, “I saw you kissing Santa.” 

Any concern she’d had that she’d somehow upset her daughter without knowing how disappears in a second, replaced with amusement she has to swallow down. She keeps her eyes fixed on her daughter, knowing if she made eye contact with her husband she’d laugh, and that would only upset Evie more right now. 

“Baby-”

“I saw you,” Evie says, her arms crossed over her chest, “Last night.” 

Aaron tries this time, desperately trying to think of how he could explain this to his little girl without running Christmas for her, without shattering the illusion of Santa years before he’d hoped it would happen. 

“That wasn’t the real Santa,” Jack cuts in, missing the look of panic in his parent's eyes as he tries to help. 

“Jack-” Aaron warns, but Jack carries on undeterred. He’d mentioned this year that he knew Santa wasn’t real, which Emily knew Aaron found harder to accept than he’d anticipated. They’d sat him down and explained that it was important for his brother and sister to still believe it, and he’d nodded along, pleased to be in on the secret, his smile wide at Evie’s excitement when they’d gone to meet Santa in the mall a week ago. 

“The real Santa is busy, right?” Jack says, cutting over Aaron. Evie nods in response and Jack carries on, “So he has Mommy’s and Daddy’s help out with putting out the presents - that was Daddy you saw Mommy kissing last night.” 

Evie’s frown loosens a little, her eyes flicking back and forth between her parents, “Really?” 

Emily looks at Aaron and he shrugs, both of them grateful that their eldest had come up with an answer when they hadn’t been able to, “Yeah,” she says, reaching out and tucking some of Evie’s hair behind her ear, “Really,” she looks up at her husband and winks, “Daddy’s the only person I want to kiss.” 

Evie sighs in relief and finally slips into Emily’s lap, “Merry Christmas Mommy.” 

She smiles and holds her close, one arm around her and the other around Issac and she drops kisses on top of both of their heads. She looks over at Aaron and Jack, both of them beaming at her, and she sighs contentedly, “Merry Christmas, baby.” 

“Right,” Aaron says, throwing the covers off of his lap and standing up, “How about some Christmas pancakes?” Jack and Evie exclaim and scramble off the bed, both of them already in the hallway before he can call after them, “Jack, make sure your sister is careful on the stairs.” 

“Yes, Dad!” 

He turns and looks at Emily, his smile turning into a smirk as she stands up, Issac on her hip, “So-”

“Don’t even say anything,” she replies, raising her eyebrow at him, her cheeks warm with embarrassment, “I can’t believe she saw that,” she blows out a breath, “Thank fuck Jack can think on his feet. We’re going to have to be more careful next year.”

He hums and wraps his arm around her waist, tugging her close to kiss her temple, her cheek and then the corner of her lips, “We’ll keep the Santa kissing strictly to the bedroom.” 

She rolls her eyes as she pulls away from him, “How many times do I have to say it was not the Santa costume I found attractive, but you being a good dad?”

He chuckles and wraps his arm around her shoulders, taking a moment to run his knuckles down Issac’s cheek before he starts to lead them out of the bedroom. 

“I believe you, sweetheart,” he says, leaning in to kiss her cheek, “Thousands wouldn’t.”

[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.