#aaron x emily

[sequinsmile-x]

Fortress

They made sure no one could call their professionalism into doubt and maintained a cautious and safe distance when they were at work. Their love for each other, the way they quietly cared for each other, was limited to looks and subtle nods across a room, a quick meeting of their eyes that reminded them they weren't alone. 

It made her all the more grateful for how they were at home.

AKA the one where Spencer needs a place to stay and ends up staying with the Hotchners.

-x-

Hi besties!

Today is...a rough day. And I'm holding space for all of you who are directly impacted by it. This is pure silly, fluffiness and I hope it makes you smile and provides a small distraction for you today.

This is very loosely based on a b-plot in a Bones episode - if you know, you know.

As always, let me know what you think <3

-x-

Warnings: pregnancy

Words: 4.1k

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

Emily yawns and rests her head on Aaron’s shoulder, allowing herself one last final moment where he is just her husband, and not also her boss, before the elevator makes it to the BAU’s floor.

“Tired?” He asks, turning his head to kiss her temple, and she grumbles, taking the opportunity to turn her head and rest her forehead against his suit jacket before she pulls back to look at him. 

“Exhausted,” she mutters, “And it’s your fault.”

She steps away from him as the elevator doors open, putting space between them as if no one knew they were married. She and Aaron had to fill out endless paperwork to continue working together after they declared their relationship, and they were careful. They made sure no one could call their professionalism into doubt and maintained a cautious and safe distance when they were at work. Their love for each other, the way they quietly cared for each other, was limited to looks and subtle nods across a room, a quick meeting of their eyes that reminded them they weren’t alone. 

It made her all the more grateful for how they were at home. How either one of them would wrap their arms around the other from behind when they were making dinner. How Aaron would curl up behind her in their bed, surrounding her with the warmth and love she couldn’t believe she’d once lived without. They were always touching each other, always within reach, and she loved it. Stored up all the bits of her husband that she could to keep close to her heart when she had to act as if he was just another member of the team. 

“Because it’s my fault we had to be here early because of my meeting?” He asks, looking around them to double check they are alone in the hallway, “Or because of the baby.” 

She shoots him a sharp glance, the blade of it dulled by the smile she can’t hide. She was only 7 weeks along. The news was still fresh, something that would pull a delighted smile out of her whenever she thought of it, her joy almost overwhelming every time it washed over her. 

“Both,” she quips, “And I can’t have coffee. That’s your fault too.” 

He holds the door open for her, smirking as he walks into the bullpen after her, “Sweetheart, you haven’t had coffee in years,” he says, but his smile drops when she throws him another glare and he clears his throat, “I mean, would you like me to make you a cup of tea?” 

“Nice save,” she replies, smiling as she dumps her bag on her desk and sits down, “And yes, please. Maybe I can trick myself into thinking it’s coffee.” 

He smiles and looks around the bullpen, checking once again to make sure they are alone, and he kisses her cheek. He places his briefcase next to her desk and squeezes her shoulder before he turns away, “One cup of tea coming right up.” 

“You’re the best husband ever,” she calls after him without looking back, blowing out a slow breath as she unlocks her computer, idly wondering how on earth she was going to make it through the day without napping. She’s about to open her emails, half a thought about a report she needed to finish for a recent case rolling around her head, when she hears two yells in quick succession from the kitchenette. She furrows her brow and jumps up, walking quickly towards the kitchen, “Aaron, what's…” she trails off as she sets her eyes on her husband standing with his hands on his hip, just a few feet away from the couch that Spencer was sitting on, a blanket over his lap and a pillow at the other end of the couch, “What’s going on here?” 

“That’s exactly what I was about to ask,” Aaron says, raising an eyebrow at Spencer expectantly. 

“My apartment building is being fumigated,” he replies, clearing his throat as he sits up a little straighter, his brain finally catching up with the fact his boss is standing in front of him, “I needed somewhere to stay.” 

“Wait, you’re sleeping here?” Emily asks, and Spencer nods, “Why?” 

He shrugs, as if the answer was obvious, “I had nowhere else to stay.” 

Emily’s about to ask why he didn’t stay in a hotel for a few days when Aaron replies instead, his hands still on his hips as he barely covers a sigh. 

“You can’t sleep in the office,” Aaron says, “How much longer is your building out of bounds?” 

“Until the weekend.” 

Aaron sighs again and turns to Emily, and she knows what he’s thinking, because she’s thinking the same thing. When she first joined the BAU, back when Aaron didn’t trust her and the team were strangers, she never could have imagined that they would become her family. That not only would she find the man she loves, the love of her life and the father of her children, but friends she’d do anything for. 

Even if it did mean blurring the already shaky lines between her home and her work. 

“You can stay with us,” Aaron says as he turns back to Spencer, “We have a spare room and it’s better than you sleeping here.” 

Spencer’s eyes go wide as he looks back and forth between the two of them, “Oh no, I couldn’t-”

“Spencer,” she says, cutting him off, “We’re not taking no for an answer. You can stay with us until your place is free to go home to.” 

He sighs and nods, “Okay. Thank you.” 

“You’re welcome,” she says, turning to look at Aaron, “Did you manage to make my tea?” 

He nods and reaches for the two mugs he’d somehow managed to not drop when Spencer sat up from the couch and almost gave him a heart attack, “Here you go, sweetheart.” 

She smiles her thanks at him and turns to head back to her desk. She’s just about sat down when Aaron joins her, smiling softly as he grabs his briefcase. 

“Are we going to talk about the scream that came out of you when he sat up?” 

He sighs, failing to hide a smile, “I didn’t scream.” 

“Sure, honey,” she replies, winking at him, “Whatever you say.” 

___

By lunchtime, everyone knows that Spencer is going to be staying with them for a few days. 

Emily eats lunch with Aaron in his office. It was something that had gone from being something she liked to do to something that felt like a necessity. The smell of everyone’s lunch all mixing into one made her stomach turn, nausea she had to fight against so she could eat the plainest of meals to make sure she kept something down. 

She groans as she lays back against the couch in his office, her eyes drifting shut as she chews on a plain cracker, “This baby better be cute.” 

Aaron chuckles and rests his hand on her thigh, “Of course, she’ll be cute. She’s half you.” 

She opens her eyes and looks at him, “She?” 

He shrugs, smiling at her with a twinkle in his eyes that was usually reserved for home, “Just a feeling.” 

She chuckles and rests her hand over his on her lap, “Do you want to find out? When we can?” 

“Haley and I did with Jack, but I think that’s your decision sweetheart,” he says, squeezing her hand, “Since you’re the one who’ll be doing the literal heavy lifting.” 

She hums, “Good answer,” she smiles wryly, “I don’t know. Part of me wants to know as soon as I can. The other part of me…”

“Wants it to be a surprise?” 

She nods and she sinks her teeth into her lower lip, trying and failing to catch a smile that feels nothing short of ridiculous, “Yeah. And I don’t usually like surprises. But this would be the best surprise ever.” 

“We have time to figure it all out,” he says and he winks at her, “And I’ll follow your lead. No matter what.” 

She squeezes his hand three times, a silent way of saying I love you that they’d started exchanging a long time ago, way back when no one knew about them and he’d grab her hand under the table on the jet. It was something that was as precious to her as the words themselves, something that was just for them. 

“I should get back to work,” she says, smiling as she lets go of his hand, “We can’t have anyone claiming you’re showing favouritism.” 

He laughs and stands up at the same time as her, allowing his hand to skip along her lower back as she steps past him, “Between you and me, you’re definitely my favourite. Prentiss.”  

She laughs and winks at him as she opens the door, “You’re my favourite too. Hotch.” 

She steps out onto the walkway, but the rest of the team is too engrossed in their conversation to notice her there, all hunched over a piece of paper on Derek’s desk - apart from Spencer who is sitting at his desk, looking irritated. 

“I’m saying a month.” Penelope says, pulling $20 out of her wallet, “Here you go handsome.” 

“So baby girl has a month,” Derek replies, taking the money from her, “I’ve said two weeks. Rossi?” 

“Three days,” he quips, looking over at Spencer, his smirk visible from the walkway, “No way he lasts longer than that.” 

“Three days,” Derek says, taking the money from Dave, “What about you JJ?” 

“Forever,” she replies, smiling when Spencer tries to intervene but she cuts him off, “I think they’ll adopt him as their own and he’ll live with them forever.” 

Derek frowns, “I don’t have forever. The longest I wrote down is two months.” 

JJ rolls her eyes and slams her money on the table, “Then give me two months.” 

Emily’s mouth falls open in outrage and clears her throat, smirking when they all freeze and look up at her. “Do I get a cut? Considering it’s my life you’re betting on?”

“They said we couldn’t take part because we could sway it in our favour,” Spencer says, his cheeks pink with embarrassment.

Emily scoffs and walks down the stairs, “Well that’s not fair.” 

“Sorry, Princess,” Derek says, counting up the money on his desk, the amount letting her know that it wasn’t just the team who’d entered the bet - but the entire office, “Don’t hate the players, hate the game.” 

___

Emily sighs as she leans back on the couch, letting her eyes drift shut as she gives herself a moment to relax, blowing out a slow breath as she rests her hand on her stomach. 

“You’re sucking the life out of me, baby,” she grumbles, keeping her voice low just in case Spencer or Jack walk past the living room. She knew she was just at the start, that she had so much longer to go, but she was trying to soak it all in. This was something she’d convinced herself she’d never get to have, something that just wasn’t meant to happen for her. There were moments when it still didn’t feel real. Moments that made her almost want to wish time away so she could feel her baby move and kick so she had something tangible to show that this was happening, that she finally had everything she’d ever wanted. She smiles and runs her thumb back and forth over the skin just below her belly button, “But you’re worth it.” 

She almost falls asleep, the sound of Aaron cooking just in the next room, and his low conversation with Spencer who insisted on helping, the white noise that starts to pull her under. 

“Mom?” 

She snaps awake at the sound of Jack’s voice, and she smiles at him, “Hey, sweet boy, are you okay?” 

He nods, his eyebrows furrowed together, “Are you okay? You were asleep.” 

“Oh,” she says, shaking her head as she sits up straight, patting the couch next to her to convince him to sit with her, “I’m okay, I promise. It was just a long day at work.” 

He sighs and sits next to her, his head resting on her shoulder as he snuggles into her side, “You left for work early today.” 

“Exactly,” she replies, kissing his temple, “But I’m fine,” she pulls back to look at him, “How was school?” 

“It was good. We’re learning French, but I told the teacher you know it better than she does.” 

Emily chuckles at that, internally wincing as she thinks of the next parent-teacher conference, and she runs her fingers through his hair, “Well, maybe I can help you with your homework. And maybe if you ask nicely, Uncle Spencer can help you with your homework while he’s here too.” 

Jack nods, “Is he staying forever?” 

She laughs again and thinks of the conversation she’d overheard her friends have, and she shakes her head, “No, honey, he’s not staying forever. Just until his apartment is safe to go back to,” she explains, and Jack sighs, the disappointment in it forcing her to hide a smile, “Why? Do you want him to stay?” 

He shrugs, “I dunno. It’s kind of like having a brother I guess.” 

She has to stifle a sigh, has to stop herself from almost saying, for the second time that day, that Spencer was only 11 years younger than her, but she’s overwhelmed by a different thought. Ever since she and Aaron had started trying, she’d been worried about how Jack would feel about becoming a big brother. She never wanted to make him feel like he wasn’t enough for her, never wanted him to think that her not being his biological mother was a factor in the decision to have another baby. 

“Is that something you’d want?” 

He shrugs again, “I guess. Or a sister. A sister would be better.” 

She kisses his temple and hides a smile against his hair, “Well, I’ll see what I can do. But Spencer can’t stay forever,” she says, leaning in as if she’s whispering a conspiracy, wanting to move the conversation on so she doesn’t accidentally let something slip, “He has the same birthday as me, and I don’t want to share the cake you and Daddy make me every year.” 

He laughs, and the sound tugs at her heart, fills the space around it until she feels like she can’t breathe whilst she’s overwhelmed by love for him. She thinks she might start crying, her famous hold on her emotions already loosening because of her pregnancy hormones, her grip slipping more and more each day in a way that made her worry about what things would be like further along. She’s saved when Aaron calls down the hallway, letting her and Jack know it’s dinner time, and Jack runs off ahead of her, excited and already telling Aaron he wants to pick what piece of the lasagne he’s going to eat. It gives her a few seconds to gather herself, her eyes closed as she blows out a slow breath before she stands up. 

“Sweetheart?” 

She looks at Aaron and smiles, “I’m okay,” she assures him, her smile only getting wider as he gives her the same concerned look Jack had earlier, “Just tired.”

He nods, “Think you can manage some lasagne?” He asks, and she must go green, the wave of nausea she feels at the mention of it almost knocking her off her feet, “I made some plain pasta for you if you want it, I told Reid you’re coming down with something and don’t want to eat anything too rich. Or I could do some toast?” 

She smiles and walks over, wrapping her arms around him so she can kiss him. He wraps his arms around her too, taking the time to pass his hand over her flat stomach. She stamps her lips against his before she pulls back, “You’re the best. The pasta will be fine.” 

She leans in to kiss him again but stops when she hears a throat clearing from behind them, and she presses her lips together as she sees Spencer standing just a few feet away, a plate of dinner in each hand, his eyes slightly wide as if he’d walked in on more than them just exchanging a simple kiss. Aaron steps away from her like he’s been burned, his eyes also wide, and she bites back a sigh, irritation she knows isn’t strictly fair aimed at him and Spencer for the disruption to her affection for her husband. 

“I’ll go get your food, Em,” Aaron says, smiling tightly at her, a flicker of an apology in it as if he’d only just realised how he’d jumped away from her, “Why don’t you go and sit in the dining room with Jack and Spencer?”

She hums and narrows her eyes at him, letting him know he’s in trouble later, but then she nods, wrapping her arm around Jack’s shoulders as he stands next to her. Unlike his father, he doesn’t hide away from her affection in Spencer’s presence, and she takes that as a win. 

“Come on kiddo, let’s eat.”

___

She collapses into bed, half asleep as she lies right in the middle because Sergio is taking up most of her side of the bed. She has her arms wrapped around Aaron’s pillow as he gets ready for bed in the bathroom, seeking out the scent of him that remains on it. 

She knew they’d done the right thing taking Spencer in, that they couldn’t in good conscience leave him to sleep in the office, but she hadn’t considered the potential consequences. Aaron had kept a respectable distance from her most of the evening. She was used to it at work, but not here - not in their home. She knew he was private, she was too, but she hated the awkwardness she’d felt when he simply placed his arm around her shoulders when they all settled down to watch a movie.  

Spencer had sat next to Jack and told him all the inaccuracies in Finding Nemo, something that the little boy had enjoyed greatly. Occasionally, Emily would notice Spencer studying them, watching them in moments when he thought they weren’t paying attention, taking the opportunity to learn more about them in their own environment. 

She grumbles when she hears the bathroom door open, and she buries her face in Aaron’s pillow as he sits on the bed, the mattress shifting beneath him. 

“Sweetheart,” he says, pushing her hair out of her face, “If you move over we can cuddle.”

She hums and moves just enough for him to slip into bed too, curling around him the moment she can, her head on his chest and her hand she sneaks it under his t-shirt, “Your kid hates me.” 

“Jack?” He asks, furrowing his brows, and she scoffs, lightly slapping his chest as she mutters her response against him.

“Not Jack. The one living inside of me.” 

He kisses the top of her head and rubs a circle on her back, “The baby doesn’t hate you, Em. It’s normal to feel like this.” 

“I know,” she grumbles, “Doesn’t make it any easier though,” she tightens her hold on him, gets impossibly closer as she all but tries to climb under his skin. It makes him frown, concern sparking in his gut as he reciprocates, forever keen to make sure she has exactly what she needs.  

“Are you okay?” He asks, tucking her hair behind her ear as he encourages her to look up at him.

She shrugs, her cheeks burning now she has to think of a way to say it outloud, “It’s stupid.” 

“You’ve never been stupid a moment in your life,” he says, running his knuckles down her cheek, chasing the smile she tries and fails to hide, “You can tell me anything, you know that.” 

She sighs and she nods, “I just…missed you tonight. That’s all.” 

His frown deepens, “I’ve been home all night.” 

She shakes her head and sighs again, this one rattling around as it passes from her chest to his, “Forget it. Like I said, it’s stupid-”

“Em,” he says, stroking her cheek again, “It’s not stupid. Just…tell me what you mean?” 

“I…I’m used to having to try to act like we aren’t together at work. I’m not used to having to do it here. And with Spencer here tonight it was just…different. That’s all. I missed us being us, I guess.” 

He pauses, tries to figure out how to respond for a moment, and then he pulls her against him again, holds her as close as he possibly can, “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I didn’t mean to pull away like that. I’ll try and do better, and maybe we can tell him to stay somewhere else?” 

She shakes her head, “We can’t do that. It would be like kicking a puppy or something,” she mumbles, “Plus it’s only for a few days. I can make do. As long as we still have this.” 

He smiles against the top of her head, “We’ll always have this.” 

She tilts her head up to look at him, “Even when I’m the most pregnant person to ever exist and there’s a whole baby between us?” 

“Even then,” he says, leaning down to kiss her, “I’ll just hold both of you.”

She kisses him again, “Good answer. Again. You’re two for two, Hotchner,” she yawns, the sound turning into a moan as she buries her face in his chest, “As soon as I don’t feel like I’ve never slept a day in my life I’ll repay you in sexual favours.” 

___

The next morning, she walks into the office with Aaron and Spencer, and she actively ignores the smirks on their friend’s faces as they approach. 

“Oh look, it’s the Hotchner family,” Derek says, leaning back in his chair with a grin all over his face that Emily wanted to slap away. 

“Shut up, Derek,” she grumbles, something that only seems to pull another laugh out of her friends. 

“Wow, someone hasn’t had caffeine yet today. Want some tea?” Penelope says, a spark of mischief in her eyes, and before Emily can respond Spencer cuts in

“Actually, she already had a mug of tea at home which has approximately 75mg of caffeine based on the type of tea, so because of the baby it isn’t recommended that she has any more this morning.” 

For a moment, it’s silent. Quiet in a way it rarely was, before all of them, her and Aaron included, react in the same way. 

“What?” 

Spencer’s eyes go wide as he realises he’s said something he shouldn’t have, and he swallows thickly, “Well, you didn’t eat dinner last night, and you haven’t eaten lunch with us for over a week. And Hotch kept touching your…” he trails off as he points at her stomach, “I don’t think either of you noticed.” 

“You…” she trails off, shaking her head as she looks at her husband, knowing there was no point in trying to lie now. She looks at the team, their excitement barely contained before she sighs and nods, “Yes. I’m pregnant,” she holds up her hand to cut off Penelope before she explodes and pulls her into a hug, “But I’m only 7 weeks along,” she throws Spencer a look, “We weren’t planning on telling anyone quite yet.” 

JJ smiles, “Congratulations, Em. We’re happy for you.” 

“Thank you,” she replies, looking at Aaron again, smiling at the soft look in his eyes, “We’re happy too.” 

“Congrats, princess,” Derek says, placing his hand on her shoulder and squeezing before he turns to Dave, “I think this means you won.” 

Aaron frowns, “Won what?” 

Dave sighs and crosses his arms over his chest, “We knew you were pregnant, we put a bet on when you were going to tell us.” 

“What?” Emily says again, crossing her arms over her chest, “How the hell did you know?” 

“You practically turned green at the mention of Derek’s breakfast sandwich the other day,” JJ replies, shrugging her shoulders, “And you’re glowing.” 

She scoffs, “I think that’s the morning sickness,” she smiles, “But thanks,” she steps back so she’s close to Aaron, wanting him close by even if she can’t wrap her arm around him, “But you guys have got to stop placing bets on what’s happening in our lives. First on how long Reid was going to stay with us and now this.” 

Aaron tenses next to her, his shoulders tight as he looks at her, his confusion close to endearing when their eyes meet, “Wait, what?” 

[mikotosworld]

Aaron?

Yes, love?

[em-prentiss]

Quotes that reminded me of hotchniss [2/?]

[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!

[sequinsmile-x]

It Still Hurts Underneath My Scars

On a quiet, lazy day, Aaron learns something new about Emily's recovery in Bethesda.

-x-

Hi besties,

As always, I'm not entirely sure where this came from, but here is some soft hurt/comfort for you on this Sunday evening <3

Let me know what you think!

-x-

Warnings: none

Words: 2.6k

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

She wakes up alone. 

She rolls onto her back and stretches, reaching out to the other side of the bed, Aaron’s side of the bed, sighing when she feels the fading residual warmth of the sheets. She sits up and yawns, stretching again when she stands up, smiling when she feels a delicious ache in her muscles, a lingering reminder of the night before seemingly pressed into her very being.

They’d been dating for a month. A wonderful, glorious, beautiful, month, and she felt equally grateful that they’d made it this far and furious at them for not figuring it all out sooner. She’d loved him for a long time, had finally been able to put a name to the feelings she’d been ignoring years ago as she sat next to his hospital bed after he sent Jack and Haley away. Circumstance and tragedy had got in their way, had kept them apart despite everything they both knew they felt for each other. Every near miss, every time they came close to finally being something more than friends, something would stop them. 

In Paris, in those long, awful months, she thought she’d never get the chance to be with him. Any hope she had was shattered by his knowledge of her time with Ian and the lies she’d had to tell afterwards. It had felt like a penance of sorts. A punishment for the decisions she’d made that had both brought him into her life and also prevented her from being with him in the way she wanted to be. A kind of guilt that only came from growing up Catholic, even though it had been decades since she’d gone to church for anything other than a wedding or a funeral. A penalty from the God she wasn’t sure she believed in. 

When she came back, when she tried to force herself to fit into a box that she didn’t fit in anymore, Aaron had been there. All too familiar with how it felt to try and rebuild your life from the shattered pieces of it around you, he was the only one who allowed her to be who she was now, who saw past the old version of her and saw the new version hiding underneath. 

When they finally shifted beyond friendship, when he’d kissed for the first time outside her apartment after dropping her home after a case, it felt like a relief. One that had been chased by uncertainty as she pulled back and asked why he still wanted her after everything. He’d answered her with another kiss and his hand on her cheek as he assured her there was nothing that would stop him from wanting her, that everything he’d ever learnt about her had only made him love her more.

They’d taken things slowly. They’d slept together in the very literal sense, had curled up around each other in his bed or hers and woken up tangled together, unsure where he started and she ended. This was the first time they’d had sex. They’d both been gun shy for different reasons - he’d only ever been with Haley, and Emily hadn’t been with anyone since her injuries from Ian, since her body had been changed in a way she’d never seen coming. 

It had been everything she’d anticipated and more. He was soft, tender and gentle in a way she hadn’t known she’d needed but he seemingly had. 

She grabs a t-shirt of his that she’d stolen from him weeks ago, and his boxers from her bedroom floor. She quickly throws them on and seeks him out, following the sound of plates and pots and pans in her kitchen, and she smiles when she finds him. He’s in a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants, looking casual and beautifully domestic as he hums to himself whilst he’s making her breakfast, the smell of bacon and eggs in the air.

“You know,” she says, crossing her arms over her chest as she leans against the kitchen doorframe, raising her eyebrow at him as he turns to look at her, “It’s not great for the ego to wake up alone the night after you’ve had sex with your boyfriend for the first time,” she smiles so he knows she��s joking, already seeing the tension seep into his frame. 

“Sorry, sweetheart,” he replies, “I was making you breakfast. I was planning on waking you up with breakfast in bed.” 

“That’s sweet,” she says as she walks over and wraps her arms around him from behind, resting her cheek against his shoulder. She furrows her brows as she sniffs the air and looks over to her oven, “Have you made cinnamon rolls?” 

“I know you have a sweet tooth,” he replies and turns to kiss her forehead, “It’s a quick recipe Haley taught me,” he says, kissing her again, “You had all the ingredients in your pantry and your fridge.” 

She has to hide her smile, presses it against his t-shirt, at the casual way he mentions giving her a little piece of his past. Love and the promise of their future pressed into the dough he’d made using a recipe given to him by the woman he’d loved before her. 

“Okay, that’s really sweet,” she says, shifting to his side so she can look at him properly, her hand on his back, “I’ve already let you see me naked,” she says, pushing her fingers through his hair to just see it flop onto his forehead, “You can stop wooing me.” 

He shakes his head and leans in to kiss her, “Never.” 

She kisses him, because she can’t think of how else to respond, and as she pulls back the timer on the oven dings, “Cinnamon rolls are ready.” 

They sit next to each other, their shoulders pressed together as they eat, the only sound in the room the occasional drip from the faucet that she hadn’t got round to fixing yet. Once they are done, she washes the dishes. He refuses to do nothing so she throws a dish towel at him and tells him he can dry whilst she washes. 

She tugs him over to the couch when they are done, her fingers linked through his as she sits down and encourages him to do the same, “You don’t have to go home until tomorrow, right?” 

He nods and wraps his arm around her shoulders, “Yeah, Jack is with Jessica,” he smiles, “He wanted to come over too but I told him next time.”

She smiles and nods, her teeth sinking into her lower lip as she thinks of the little boy. She loved him so much, would do anything for him, but her time alone with Aaron was rare, almost achingly so, so she had been grateful for this weekend for just the two of them. Even if it did make her feel selfish for enjoying it. 

“Next time,” she replies, leaning against him, “So, we really can just have a lazy day doing nothing.” 

He hums and nods over his shoulder towards the kitchen, “Well, I need to fix that faucet for you.” 

She rolls her eyes and climbs onto his lap, bracketing his hips with her thighs as she wraps her arms around his neck. She leans in to kiss him, smiling as she pulls back, her nails scratching lightly at his scalp.

“You’re already terrible at having a lazy day. We’re not meant to do anything,” she kisses him again, shifting impossibly closer as she sinks into the warmth of him, “Except make out,” she nudges her nose against his, “And snuggle.” 

He chuckles and rests his hands on her hips, squeezing her skin through a t-shirt that used to be his, “I guess it’s a good thing I have a good teacher.”

She yelps when he flips them over, the noise cut off as he kisses her, his arm wrapping around her back so he can sneak his hand under her t-shirt. His skin is warm against hers. He was like her own personal furnace. A never-ending source of comfort and safety that she could never get enough of, something she wasn’t sure how she’d lived so long without. She smiles when she pulls back and rests her forehead against his, her tongue peeking out to lick her lower lip, to chase the taste of him on her skin.

“You’re a quick student,” she says, “Now, why don’t we pick out a movie and get some snacks,” she stamps a kiss against his lips, “Then the next stage of your training can begin.” 

She picks out Forbidden Planet, an old favourite of hers that she could recite in her sleep, and he makes them some popcorn. She lays against him, her head on his shoulder as he wraps his arms around her and holds her close. He barely pays attention to the movie, instead, he focuses on her, how she mouths the lines along with it, how she laughs just half a second before anything funny even happens. It’s endearing, makes him love her even more than he already did, and he kisses the top of her head, smiling at her when she turns to look at him, catching his lips with hers before she returns her focus to the TV. 

He runs his fingers through her hair, feels the softness of it against his skin. They’d showered together last night, he’d watched her hair dry naturally, had found a new obsession of his was the slight wave in it. He watches as the light catches something he’s never noticed before - a silver scar following her hairline just above her temple. It’s thin, usually disguised by her dark hair, and just over an inch in length, and something that was easily missed unless you were looking for it. 

“How did you get this?” He asks before he can stop himself, his thumb tracing back and forth over it. She reaches up, her fingers skating over his as she presses her fingers to her hairline. 

“Oh,” she says, reaching for the remote to pause the movie. She turns to look at him, “It’s a little embarrassing actually.” 

He immediately feels bad, and he drops his hand to her shoulder, “Em, you don’t have to-”

“It’s fine, honey,” she replies, leaning in to kiss his cheek, “I want to tell you,” she smiles wryly, “I just don’t want to hear anything about how terrible I am at following orders,” she wraps her hand around his, “It happened when I was in hospital in Bethesda. I’d only been awake for a couple of days and…I was so mad that I couldn’t do anything for myself and I just…” she laughs at herself and scrunches up her nose, the memories of those days washing over her, making a shiver run up her spine, something Aaron tries to soothe by pulling her closer. 

“Sweetheart,” he says, kissing her forehead, shifting their position so she is curled against him, “It’s okay. I wasn’t the best patient myself when I was recovering as I’m sure you remember.” 

She smiles as she thinks about it, the reminder of him being a terrible patient when she visited him in the hospital every day after Foyet’s attack pulling her out of her memories of being alone whilst she tried to recover. The empty seat next to her bed, the lack of get well soon cards and encouragement as she learnt how to walk again all enough to make her feel more alone than she ever had been before. The sharpness of it worse than ever because for a brief time, she’d learnt how it felt to have people around you who cared. 

“I wanted to go to the bathroom by myself. I barely took a step before I fell over. I hit my head on the nightstand. Split my head open,” she blows out a shaky breath, “And while the nurse stitched me back up I got a lecture on pushing myself too soon.” 

He sighs and kisses her head, his lips stamped against the scar, and he sighs, “I’m sorry.” 

She furrows her brow and pulls back to look at him, “Why are you sorry?” 

His breath stutters in his chest, his ability to breathe stuck somewhere between the two of them. For months, he’d felt nothing short of guilty for failing to save her, for failing to save another woman he loved. Carrying her coffin, even knowing she wasn’t in it, had been one of the hardest things he’d ever done. He used to visit her grave, even though he knew it was empty, and he would promise her that he’d get her back. He’d gone with her when the headstone was taken down. Had held her hand when she gasped at the sight of a piece of rock with her name engraved on it, and it was one of the many moments he’d had when he wondered how she’d been able to forgive him for taking her life away from her. 

“I should have been able to stop it,” he says, kissing the scar on her hairline again, “I should have been able to stop you from getting hurt at all.” 

She thinks it would have once annoyed her. His desire to protect her something she would have taken as an insult to her skills, to her abilities. But she knows that isn’t what this is, that he’s already lost one woman he loved and he saw the same happening to her and couldn’t stop it. His life not repeating itself, but rhyming, leaving him unable to do anything other than stand back and watch it happen. 

“Honey,” she says, cupping his cheek, “You couldn’t stop what you didn’t know was happening, what I was trained to keep from you. It’s not your fault.” 

He sighs and leans forward, resting his forehead against hers, “I…I wish I could have been there for you.” 

She nods, “I know. I wish you could have been too,” she smiles as she pulls back, and she lets herself imagine it for a moment. She lets herself see him sitting next to her bed, reading her the books she loves because she was too tired to do it herself, his hand in hers whenever she had her bandages changed or stitches removed. She can see him helping her during physical therapy, his hands stuffed into his pockets to stop himself from reaching out for her during those first, shaky, unassisted steps. “But I was a terrible patient,” she laughs, and it catches on something in her chest, “I think if there was anything that could drive you away it would have been that.” 

He shakes his head at her and leans in to kiss her, his lips catching the corner of hers before he encourages her closer, letting her head rest against his chest as he holds her close and he lets himself remember what he had now. 

“How many times do I have to tell you, Em?” He says, kissing her temple, “There’s nothing you could do to drive me away.” 

She hides her smile against his chest. It felt too wide, too full of love and somehow made her feel more exposed than she had the night before. The naked honesty to it something she wasn’t quite sure how to share yet. She knew she’d figure it out though. That she’d learn how to share every part of herself with him, the parts she was still discovering herself, because she wanted to. She wanted to be with him. To carry on what they’d started, to pave the way forward together into the life they both deserved, laying it brick by brick.  

“There’s nothing you could do to drive me away either.” 

[mikotosworld]

[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.

[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