#hotchniss one shots

[thewulf]

Did You Just...? || Aaron Hotchner

Summary: Request - What about a young!Hotch x reader and they’re best friends crushing on each other?? Idk if you remember that TikTok trend where you call your crush or film a video and kiss your best friend and they don’t know what’s going on?... Read Rest Here

A/N: PURE FLUFFFFF. Loved this. Hope you guys enjoy :) This is a Young Hotch set in present day :)

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Y/N

Word Count: 3.0k

“Okay but you’ve been on the app right?” You asked Aaron after sitting down at his desk filled to the brim with paperwork that needed to be completed but never had the time to do. He peaked his eyes over to you once you sat down with a huff.

Amusement danced in his gaze as a small smiled played on his lips at your overt casualness with him. It was remarkable to witness you go from the scared and timid profiler hired right out of school to chatting his ear off at lunch every day in a matter of mere months. See, he was in his third year at the BAU and thought he had figured it out. That was until you came along and rocked his world.

He used to come to work, get some paperwork done, put his head down and go home after a long day. It worked for him. He was ‘friends’ with his coworkers as best as he could be, but he was the young pup of the group. Then you were onboarded. Gideon hired you the second you graduated after blowing him away in one of the classes he taught at Georgetown. You came in like a hurricane that he wasn’t quite ready for but knew the team needed.

You were so different than Aaron’s other coworkers. You actually talked to him and got to know him. You weren’t afraid of his intimidating gaze but instead found it a fun challenge to try and get him to break his facade. It annoyed him at first. He went to work to work, not socialize. But leave it to you to sway his opinion on the matter. Aaron didn’t want to admit just how much he had grown to love and adore your smiling face greeting him every morning. He really didn’t want to admit how much he looked forward to your early morning coffee chats or daily debriefs when Gideon was being a hard ass. You were the sunshine of the group. The one that brought the optimism while the rest of the team turned terribly pessimistic.

He'll never forget the first time you caught a killer. He almost had a heart attack when you quite literally jumped on top of the man, surprising him and taking him to the floor without a second thought. You smiled right up to him after he was in cuffs and whispered a, “One down. A hundred more to go.” To him. He knew right then and there that you’d be in his life for a long time.

“What app?” He set the pen he was writing with down as he turned his attention to you.

Sighing you opened your phone showing him, “Don’t play dumb with me Hotchner.” Your eyes glowered at the man with a subtle smirk resting right on his face, “Tik-Tok.”

He leaned back watching the videos you’d saved. He assumed they were ones you thought would convince him to download it. He was right of course. You’d saved the funniest ones in hopes he’d download the damn app. You’ve been trying for weeks to get him to do it. But then again, it almost took you three entire months to convince the man he needed to upgrade from his prehistoric iPhone 5.

“You know that’s likely spyware and the government…”

You cut him off with another long-drawn-out sigh, “Okay dad. But it’d not banned. So, download it.”

Aaron could mess with you, and he knew it. And enjoyed it. He didn’t dare want to admit just how happy he got when he got you to blush under his gaze. You’d quite literally waltzed in and rocked his absolute world. He knew he couldn’t catch feelings for you and yet here he was. On the brink of falling in love with the funnier than ever coworker who knew him better than he knew himself. How cliché.

He leaned back in his office chair crossing his arms over his chest, “You know. I don’t think I will.” He watched your face closely. You were far too easy to read. Something he was working on with you. You gave away everything on your face. His smirk only grew when you raised your eyebrows in slight surprise. It wasn’t often he didn’t bend over backwards to make you happy. He would of course download the stupid little app to make you happy. Just like he got the latest iPhone once you saw the horrifying state of his almost 10-year-old phone.

You leaned back in the same manner he had, “No need to be so obstinate Hotch.” Giving him a playful push, you couldn’t help but to giggle at his amused grin. It was easy to forget the two of you were at work of all places. It was just so easy to forget with him. He made you want more with him, so much more. A much easier case to crack than you originally thought. He was an utter softy under the rigid exterior put on for the team.

He knew he should get back to work but he just couldn’t shoo you away. He looked forward to moments like these. Little moments where he got to steal some of your time and attention, “Look at you. Using your big words.” His smirk deepened as he watched you register his words in real time. He was playing around with you. He’d gotten so comfortable with you he was beginning to mess with you right back. You’d grown used to teasing him and only getting an eyeroll or snicker in return. You weren’t used to this. And you had to admit you loved it. A subtle change you’d grown to adore.

“Didn’t go to school for nothing.” You winked at him knowing the double negative would set him off.

He shook his head, “You’re something else, you know that?”

Wiggling your eyebrows at him you nodded your head, “You wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Relenting, he fished his phone out of his pocket. He opened it up knowing damn well he didn’t download the app but he’d sure as hell let you do it. He’d truly do anything for you, “You’re right.”

Ignoring the flush that rose to your cheeks you grabbed the opened phone from his hands. You knew you shouldn’t be having these thoughts for your dangerously attractive slightly older and much more put together coworker. But damn. You had all the thoughts and feelings.

You sighed, “Just as I suspected.” Shaking your head in disapproval you handed the phone back to him, “Now, I need you to make an account to night. Let me know when you do! I have so many to share with you.” You grinned knowing he was going to give in one way or another.

He took it back, “That’s a lot of work.” He spoke with a grin that meant he was just teasing you. Two could play that game.

“Yeah, because you’re so anti-technology. But I promise you can do this. Who else am I supposed to send TikTok’s too?” You widened your eyes as if it was the most obvious thing ever.

“You’re other friends?”

You shrugged, “I do send them. But these are for you.”

Aaron couldn’t help but to smile at your ever so quick comebacks. One of the many reasons he had fallen for you so quickly, “I’ll do it. But…” He paused letting it linger in the air for a moment.

“But what Hotchner?” You raised your eyebrows, ever so curious as to what his stipulation could be.

His smile widened seeing your impatience for him grow, “Only if you come over and show me how.” He’d never really been so bold before. Sure, you’d been over to his place a few times in passing, once for a team dinner. Gideon’s genius idea to have somebody from the team host once a month. You’d rather come to enjoy the gatherings. Especially when they were at Rossi’s place. The wine and food pairings never ceased to amaze you. You on the other hand always insisted on taking the team out when your month rolled around. It was a little too embarrassing to have the entire team over at your rather small one-bedroom apartment.

“Propositioning me now Hotch?” You challenged back to the man you were head over heels with knowing it’d throw him off his game. The smile that immediately dropped let you know you did exactly that.

This time it was his mouth that dropped as his cheeks turned an adorable violet. Oh, you got him this time. You wished you could take a picture. He was just too cute when he thought too hard. If you were at home you would’ve risked a picture, but you didn’t want to cross the line at work. You’d never dream of putting him in an awkward position here. The both of you worked way too hard to blow it up now.

“You know I would never ever…” He started rambling. It would’ve been adorable had he not been actually freaking out a little bit. Of course, you knew that. You really were just messing with him.

Shaking your head, you stopped him, “I’m teasing you Aaron. I’d love to come over and show you how to make a TikTok account.”

He let out a strangled sigh of relief, “You’re killing me.” He loved it when you called him by his first name. It sounded too good coming out of your mouth.

Biting back a smile you stood from the chair, “I’ll be over at 6?”

You watched as he leaned forward grabbing his pen once more. Turning to you with that smile you’d grown to adore he nodded, “Don’t be late.”

“I wouldn’t dare Hotchner.” Shooting him one last wink you walked away briskly letting your heart get far, far away from the man who was causing it to beat right out of your chest.

“You’re making this so much harder than it needs to be Hotchner.” You giggled itching to take the phone away from Aaron.

He shrugged giving you a wicked grin, “We’re not all technologically savvy Y/L/N.” He chided back knowing he might’ve been taking his time so that you didn’t have an excuse to leave. He took his time making dinner, not starting until you made it over. Taking his time cleaning up and getting dessert out. Pretending not to know how his phone worked. He wanted to steal your time away. Not that you minded, not in the slightest.

Rolling your eyes, you finished setting it up for him, “You could say that again.”

A small chuckle rolled off his lips. He put his phone back down before turning his head back to you. You were watching him with all the love in your eyes. You’d tried so hard to hide it, but it was becoming an impossible task. He was so easy to fall in love with. How were you to blame?

Feeling bold you decided to move forward with your plan. Picking up your phone you clicked the video player to record and angled it towards you and Aaron.

With scrunched brows he observed you, “What are you doing?”

“Since you’ve never opened the app you’ll never get it. But we’re doing a video. I’ll post it. It’d trending right now.” You said as nonchalantly as possible trying not to let your voice waver. You had to be confident

Curiously we watched as you scooted closer to him, “Trending?” He asked with a hint of amusement lacing his voice.

You nodded not daring to meet his curious gaze, you’d surely lose the confidence to actually do it, “Mhmm,” You hummed, “If you’ll let me that is.”

He grinned, “Be my guest.”

It felt like your heart was about to leap out of its chest. Now or never, really, “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

He smirked seeing you finally look him in the eyes, “Do your worst then.”

It was really now or never. You grabbed either side of his face and decided to go for it.

His eyes widened in pleasant shock as you pressed your lips to his. He could’ve sworn his heart stopped then and there. That was bold, even for you. But then again you always had him on his toes. Another one of the many reasons he knew that made him fall for you. It took him a second to long to respond to this kiss. But once he did he wasn’t going to let you go.

Once you needed air though you did have to pull away. Adrenaline was now coursing through you as you realized you really just kissed not only your friend but your coworker as well. There was truly no going back now.

“Did you just…?” His mouth bobbed open and closed like he couldn’t believe what you just did.

You watched as his face went from shock to realization to… satisfaction? A fast and hot blush erupted on your cheeks as you realized he was watching you too, waiting on an answer to his very own question.

“I did.” Biting your lip, a wave of anxiety washed over you as you waited his answer.

You didn’t get one as he leaned in this time. You felt as his hand wrapped around the back of your neck and up through your hair. Carefully he pulled your head towards him as he kissed you with a little more dominance this time. He was in charge. He wanted to kiss you. You didn’t fight the way your body melted right into his. Feeling him smile as you folded into his touches like putty, you didn’t dare break away. You’d dreamed of this moment for far too long. Almost six months too long now.

He pulled away gently, leaning his forehead on yours, “Thank God you did.”

Your heart was hammering so hard in your chest you only could hope he couldn’t hear it being so close, “Yeah?” You asked, a hint of insecurity in your voice.

He moved away from you only so he could look you in the eyes. His hands landed on your shoulders giving them a gentle squeeze, “I’ve wanted to do that for a while now.” His usually unreadable face broke into a light blush, one you probably wouldn’t be able to see if you weren’t so close to him.

“Why didn’t you?” The smile on your face let him know it was all in good fun. You just loved teasing him. And he loved teasing you right on back.

He shook his head with the saddest smile, “Would it be too cowardly to say that I didn’t want to mess it all up? I didn’t want to make a mess of it if you didn’t feel the same.” For the first time you’d seen a side of him you’d really never have seen before. He wasn’t sure. He didn’t have an answer. He looked to you for the next step.

A quick shake of your head brought you back to the present, “I’d never think of you as a coward Aaron.” You reached for his hands that landed back down at his side, “And I’m certainly glad I didn’t make a mess of it.” You giggled feeling relieved that he clearly felt the same way. You didn’t think he’d kiss you like that if he didn’t.

“Go out with me tomorrow? On an actual date? Where I can actually woo you. You weren’t supposed to do that by the way.” He pinched your side lightly loving the way you squirmed under his touch, “But then again. You always seem to take me by surprise.” He clarified leaning back in wanting so desperately to kiss you once more but needing to hear your answer first.

“Do I now?” If your heart could speed up it certainly did as he leaned closer and closer once more.

“All the time.” He placed a gentle hand on your cheek, his thumb gingerly brushing on the apple of your cheek. A shiver you tried to stop erupted from your body at the lightest of contact with him. You were a goner, and you knew it.

“Good to know.” You grinned before leaning in and giving his nose a quick kiss, catching him off guard yet again, “And yes, I’d love to go out with you.” You continued after sending his brain into a tizzy. You truly would be the death of him.

He didn’t waste a second more before bringing you in for a much slower kiss this time. He too was in utter disbelief this was going on. Sure, he’d daydreamed about it on far too many occasions, but it was actually happening. He was kissing you.

When he pulled back for air he gave you a once over again, “I haven’t told you how pretty you look tonight.” He knew that’d draw that pretty blush he loved so much.

You pushed at his chest lightly giving him a soft laugh. You turned your head spotting the phone you’d set up to record about five minutes ago.

“Oh crap.” You pulled yourself off of him to grab at the phone quickly ending the video. A soft smile graced your face as you thought about watching that later.

He grinned, “Are you going to post that?”

Shaking your head quickly you saved the video before closing out of the app, “No, I don’t think I will.” Looking back up with all the love in your eyes you scooted closer to him, nearly on top of him now, “Think I’ll keep it just for you and I.”

He pulled you onto his lap, getting the hint, “You’re a sap.” Brushing your now messy hair, thanks to Aaron, out of your face he leaned down to give you a gentle kiss on your forehead, “A cute sap at that.”

You grinned while cuddling into him rather thankful your uncalculated risk paid off in an incredible way, “Only for you Aaron.”

He wrapped his arms all the way around pulling you in close, “Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

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[criminalmindsgonewrong]

nature vs nurture

a hotchner's future au fic. wordcount: 5.7k

emily is trying to be a good mother, but she never had a good example to learn from.

or

elizabeth comes to visit after ava is born

tw: mentions of pregnancy, mentions of trouble conceiving

Read on AO3, fanfiction.net or under the cut

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"There, there," Emily soothed, running her hand gently up and down her newborn daughter's back. Bouncing on the pregnancy ball, the only thing that had brought her any relief as she had neared fullterm, she had hoped that the familiar sensation would soothe Ava, as it used to when she was in-utero, but, so far, no dice. Emily persisted, though, switching up the position she held Ava in. She moved her daughter from her shoulder, unstrapping her maternity bra and holding Ava nestled against her chest, hoping the skin-to-skin contact, and the scent of her mother, might calm the crying child. Still, Ava went on screeching. Emily closed her eyes, breathing steadily out through her nose and tilting her face up towards the ceiling, determined not to cry. No, she had done enough of that in the past few days.

Getting pregnant had been a chore; she and Aaron, it felt like, were having sex at every opportunity and still, nothing happened for the longest time. Emily had been convinced she was infertile, and wouldn't even have been surprised, after all of the explosions, gun-shots, chairlegs and beatings she'd been through. After eleven long months of negative pregnancy tests, unwanted periods and disappointed tears, though, finally, those two little lines had shown up and a relief the likes of which she had never known flooded Emily's being.

She hadn't stopped crying since.

The littlest things could set her off, from Aaron accidentally ordering her the wrong takeout order to Jack winning one of his football matches. Towards the end of her pregnancy, he had actually banned her from attending games - by that point she was so big that she couldn't do much more than waddle, anyway, and standing for too long made her ache all over, so she didn't really mind all that much, but she still cried when Aaron told her.

That was a month ago, and, three weeks later, Ava made her squawking, mewling way into the world and it seemed that the phrase like mother, like daughter was all too true for them because she hadn't stopped crying since either, and everytime Ava cried, one of two things happened. Emily started leaking, either from her eyes or from her boobs.

As she bounced on the birthing ball and tried to breathe her way through the tears that threatened, she felt the hot trail of milk that slowly leaked out of her, and then she couldn't hold back tears anymore.

"Hey," Aaron said, rushing into the room armed with the diaper and wipes she'd sent him out for, "I was just checking on Jack, I'm sorry." He said, misinterpreting her tears, but Emily shook her head.

"Can you-you get me a t-towel?" She stutered her way through her sentence, the sympathy on her husband's face only making her cry harder, and, feeling useless, Aaron did the only thing he could, which was what she had asked for. He hurried into their en-suite, grabbing one of the microfibre towels, the good, soft ones, from the cupboard and came back to kneel in front of his wife and daughter. Lovingly, he mopped up the milk and then fastened her maternity bra back up for her, careful not to disturb Ava, who was still crying.

"Did you try her…?" Aaron asked, and then trailed off at the expression on Emily's face, the one that said she might rip his head off if he finished that sentence. "Of course you did. Sorry, sweetheart."

Emily, though, shook her head, "I'm sorry. I don't mean to take it out on you," She said, and supported Ava with one arm, making sure she was secure before reaching for Aaron. He understood and took her hand, helping her stand off of the ball and leading her to the bed, where Emily painfully lowered herself onto it, still tender from the birth, "Oh, please, close the door before she wakes Jack up."

Aaron had the same thought at the same moment, and was already turning as she made the request. "This won't last forever," he reassured her, making his way back to the bed and rubbing Emily's back in much the same way as Emily had done to Ava, trying to soothe her.

"Do you remember Jack crying this much?" Emily dug around in Ava's blankets, finding her pacifier and once again gently tapping it against her infant's lips, but Ava wiggled her head back and forth as best as she could, and only mewled louder, rejecting the pacifier, "Okay, okay, I'm sorry, sweetheart, I'm sorry." Emily said, feeling tears threaten once more, and swallowing down the lump that had risen in her throat. She felt, not for the first time, at a complete loss, unable to determine what her daughter needed at any given moment. This learning curve was the steepest she had ever encountered, and Emily felt like she was faltering with every step she took..

She looked at Aaron with eyes that sparkled like glass, "She hates me," she said, with a sadness so profound that it made him gape at her.

"No, sweetheart, no," He wrapped his arms around them both, pulling his wife and daughter into his chest, "Don't ever think that."

"What's wrong with me," Emily sobbed, her words muffled by Aaron's chest, "that I can't even comfort my own baby?"

Between them, Ava was still crying, and Emily pulled out of Aaron's arms, making to stand up, meaning to pace back and forth in the hopes that a different motion might soothe her, but Aaron stopped her.

"Let me?" He asked, searching his wife's eyes.

Emily had been reluctant to let go of Ava, even to him, since she was born and she appreciated that he asked, even if he was her father. Of course she trusted him, but Ava was the most precious thing she'd ever seen, ever held, and to let her go for even a moment, even to her father, was like physical torment. Right now, though, after Ava had been screaming for almost two hours, the relief of being slightly further away from her noise overcame that pain easily, and she let Aaron gently lift the baby from her arms.

She watched as he nestled Ava into the crook of his elbow, holding her tight to his chest. She was a tiny baby, but she looked even smaller in Aaron's muscular arms, truly like a little doll. It made something inside of Emily ache.

"That's nature's trick," she commented, narrowing her eyes as she wiped her nose on back of her hand, frowning at him.

Aaron looked at her, halted his attempts at soothing their daughter to raise his eyebrows at her, the ghost of a smile playing around his lips, "What?"

"How good men look with babies." Even though Emily couldn't even think about having sex with him without wincing right now, something inside of her tugged at the sight of him holding the tiny bundle, comforting their child with soft words and looking down at her with such adoration, "Tricks you into having more."

Aaron smiled at her, showing his perfect teeth, then turned that smile down onto their daughter. Emily marvelled, not for the first time, at his patience. She loved Ava with everything she had, but she was ready to jam a screwdriver into her eardrum right about now, just for the bliss of the silence.

"She's brand new," Aaron was saying, "Being born is traumatic. Everything is new and big and scary," he rocked, side to side, creating a rhythm, "I know you don't like it right now," he wasn't talking to her anymore, but to Ava, "but you will. I promise you will."

Ava paused for a moment to look at her father, blinking bleary eyes at him, still unable, Emily knew, to see clearly. That, she thought, must be scary enough in itself.

"You know what used to work for Jack?" Hotch said, looking up at her. Tiredly, Emily raised her eyebrows at him. "A bath."

"See? Works everytime."

His fingertips stroked over their daughter's tiny, dark head, her hair wet from the water and plastered flat. She rested on Emily's chest, her tiny fist furling and unfurling against her mother's skin. The water was just the right temperature, a little cold for Emily, perhaps, but perfect for the baby, and her mother's heart beat steadily and surely beneath her ear, as comforting as it had been when she lived inside Emily's body.

"You're a genius," Emily whispered, smiling at her husband, the silence making her ears buzz. Ava's eyes had fluttered closed, along with her fist, and she didn't open them or unfurl them, but instead began a slow and steady breathing that told her parents she had, finally, fallen asleep.

There was a long beat of silence. Then Emily looked at him and said, "What now?"

Kneeling beside the bath, Aaron's shoulders started to shake as he tried to laugh silently, and Emily held Ava's head gently as she did the same, trying to keep as still as she could while giggling, so as not to disturb her daughter.

The next morning, Ava woke them with a cry, as had become the custom, as was normal for a baby her age. It was 5:30am. All in all, her parents had four hours of sleep between them. They tried to nap alternately, but realistically when one was awake, so was the other, and the morning was the same story, so when Ava's cries woke Emily, Aaron was up a few seconds later.

By lunch time, they were both yawning.

"Kids are hard," Emily whined, resting her chin on Aaron's shoulder as she curled her fingers around the mug of coffee she had been reheating and trying to drink since 7am. Ava, blissfully, was taking a nap in her swing, a song that Emily already knew would be haunting her dreams playing for the seventh time in a row. Unfortunately, it seemed to be the only one that Ava found appealing and so, like all new parents, they were putting up with it until further notice. Or until the batteries ran out.

"Yeah," Aaron agreed, just as sleepily, as Jack came bounding into the room with an energy his parents couldn't possibly hope to match.

"Grandma's here," he announced, and they both stared at him in confusion. Impatient, he repeated, "Grandma's here! In the car!"

"My mom?" Emily said, frowning in confusion.

"Has to be. Highly doubt it's mine, or he'd be screaming in terror since she's been dead for twenty years." Aaron replied, standing up from the barstool. There were milkstains on his t-shirt, Emily noticed, and, looking down at her own, she saw that she, too, was covered in them. She also noticed a stain that looked suspiciously like milk-sick, but didn't inspect it too much. Instead, she grabbed a hoodie from the pile of laundry she had been meaning to get to for four days, and tugged it over her head, trying to make herself look at least half presentable.

"Can't we send her away?" Aaron suggested, half-heartedly, already aware of how much of a losing battle that would be.

"It's better if we just let her in, let her see the baby, and then, once she's had her fill, we won't have to see her for about five years. Hopefully." Emily asserted, attempting to fluff her hair in the microwave's reflection before giving up and tugging it up into a bumpy ponytail, fastening it with the hairtie that had been around her wrist.

The doorbell went and they both turned as though it were the cock of a gun.

"I'll get it," Aaron groaned, and Emily shot him a grateful smile, heading straight into the living room to where Ava was in her swing and Jack was sitting at the dining room table, drawing.

"Jack," she said, walking over to him and putting a gentle hand on his hair, stroking it, lovingly, "Don't take too much notice of anything Grandma says, okay?"

Jack looked up at her with curious blue eyes, but she just smiled at him, a smile that fell from her face as soon as she heard the tell tale click-clack on her hardwood floors, the soundtrack of her childhood, the noise that ominously announced the approach of her mother.

"Emily, my darling," Elizabeth swanned into the room, arms open wide, like the loving and affectionate mother she never had been, and enveloped Emily in a hug that felt all wrong and unfamiliar. Over her shoulder, she caught Aaron's eye, and he just shrugged as she furrowed her brows at him, "How are you?"

Shoving her away, Elizabeth held her at arms length, "You look tired."

"I just had a baby, mom," Emily said, deadpan, not at all shocked that the first words out of Elizabeth's mouth could be classified as an insult.

"Oh, yes, my first grandchild," Elizabeth clapped her hands together and Emily ground her teeth together.

"Second," she corrected, wrapping her arm securely around Jack's shoulders.

"Oh, of course, of course," Elizabeth waved a hand, as though to waft away her earlier words, "Jack, how are you?"

Her tone was as it had always been with children; formal and awkward. Jack looked from Elizabeth up to Emily, who gave him a small smile, a reassuring nod and a gentle squeeze into her side.

"I'm okay, grandma," he said, politely, "How are you?"

"Dying to meet my granddaughter," as tone deaf as ever, Elizabeth beamed at Emily, who felt something like possession curl in her chest as she saw the hungry look on Elizabeth's face, and she knew, she had known, the strange ownership Elizabeth already felt for Ava, a child she hadn't even met yet. She wanted, then, to send Eliazabeth away, to keep Ava for herself. She opened her mouth to speak, unsure of what was about to come out of it, but Aaron beat her to it.

"She's over here," he said, from behind her mother, and Elizabeth turned on her heels. Emily followed, right behind her.

The granddaughter in question was stirring, her lullaby having finished, and Emily, supporting herself on the arm of the sofa, knelt slowly down beside the swing and fiddled with the buttons until the song began again.

"Oh," Elizabeth looked down at the tiny bundle, as Emily put gentle fingers on Ava's tiny hand, lowering the arm that had been raised to cover her little face. "She's beautiful," Elizabeth whispered, "Emily, she looks just like you."

And Emily thought that might be the nicest thing her mother had ever said to her. She beamed with pride, staring at the tiny girl in the swing.

Before Ava, Emily was the type of person to say that all newborns looked the same. If somebody had shown her a photograph of Jack at one week old, and Henry at one week old, she was certain she wouldn't be able to tell them apart, regardless of how much she loved them both. Ava, however, was a different story entirely. Ava was the most beautiful newborn she had ever seen, with a shock of dark hair and eyes that were already the same deep brown as both of her parents and therefore, Emily assumed, likely to stay that way. Her pale little eyebrows arched angelically over her eyes, and, already, her eyelashes were shockingly long - the abundance of hair her daughter already had accounted for the heartburn Emily had suffered with throughout the second and third trimester.

She gently pulled back her finger and Ava once again lifted her arm to cover her face, fussing a little in the chair, unhappy about being disturbed.

"She won't stay settled for much longer," Aaron said, knowingly, "Elizabeth, can I get you a drink?"

"Yes, tea." There was no please, and Aaron raised an eyebrow at Emily, who just tilted her head, apologetically, and widened her eyes. He understood her even without words.

Let's just get through this.

"Mom, I wish you'd told us you were going to drop by," Emily said, as Aaron lef the room. The scolding was barely disguised, but Elizabeth either didn't hear it or chose to ignore it. She sat herself down on the sofa, but Emily stayed on the carpet beside Ava, wanting to be the closest one to her when she inevitably started crying, wanting, if she was honest with herself, to pick her up before Elizabeth tried to reach for her.

"I'm your mother, Emily, I don't need an announcement," Elizabeth waved away her words, and then added, "Or an invite." She pursed her lips with disapproval, clearly telling her daughter off in not as many words. Emily immediately felt the need to make excuses, a reminder that even as a grown woman, she hadn't escaped the effect her mother always seemed to have on her, of making her feel like a misbehaving child.

"We're just, we weren't having guests during these first two weeks," Emily said, tiredly, folding her own hands in her lap, "The house is a mess, we're all so exhausted. We've just been settling in with the baby-"

"Nonesense," Elizabeth let out a sharp laugh as Aaron entered the room with her tea, and Ava jumped, her grandmother's laugh effectively ending her nap. Startled, she began to cry as Elizabeth continued, seemingly oblivious, "I was on a plane to Munich two days after giving birth to you."

"Yes, mother, I know," Emily said, tersely, as she reached her hands into the swing, unbuckling the baby and fastening them securely around Ava. She lifted her out of the chair, immediately pulling Ava to her chest. Emily made soothing noises, picking up the pacifier Ava had spat out and putting it into her own mouth as she adjusted her daughter in her arms.

"You shouldn't do that, you know," And here it was, Emily thought, as she met Aaron's eyes over Elizabeth's head, the real reason they hadn't invited her; the unsolicited advice she was about to give that would make Emily's blood boil, because, really, who was Elizabeth to give anybody parenting advice, let alone the daughter she hadn't raised?

Neither Emily nor Aaron prompted her to continue, as he passed Elizabeth her tea and Emily stared, intently, at the babe in her arms, pretending she hadn't heard her mother at all, but Elizabeth went on, anyway.

"Pick her up as soon as she cries, I mean-thank you, Aaron, dear," She took the tea from him and immediately set it down onto the coffee table. Aaron frowned, picked it up again, set a coaster beneath it, and set the mug on top of the coaster. He wiped at the ringmark with his hand, aware of how crazy it would drive his wife, "You're teaching her bad habits."

"Bad habits?" Emily frowned, casting Elizabeth a glance, swaying her hips on the spot, a state that had become second nature to her already, "Mom, she's a week old."

"Nonetheless, if you let her manipulate you like that, you'll regret it," Elizabeth raised her eyebrows, with an air of superiority, as she brought her tea to her lips and Emily found herself wishing she would scald herself, but instead she just blew on her tea, "Give into her now and you'll be doing it for the rest of her life."

Emily bit her tongue, exhaling, hard, through her nose. She found Aaron's eyes, and, seeing the upset there, he turned to Jack.

"Hey, buddy, why don't you take your colours upstairs for a bit and let the grownups talk, huh?" Jack, who liked to spend most of his time in his room anyway, shrugged and gathered up his crayons and paper, obeying his father almost immediately. As soon as he was out of earshot, Emily raised her eyebrows at Elizabeth, feeling triumphant.

"See that?" She said, "Does it look like we let Jack walk all over us?"

Elizabeth, though, shrugged, "Perhaps his mother knew, as I do, the best way to raise a child. Sometimes you have to let them cry it out, Emily, look I'll show you. Here, here," Elizabeth advanced and before Emily could protest, she was lifting Ava's tiny body out of her arms. Something inside of Emily wanted to snap, as Ava wriggled in midair, and a maternal instinct so primal and violent rose to the surface with a velocity so shocking that it scared her. Emily only just managed to restrain herself, clenching her fists and her jaw, in time to hold herself back from physically attacking her mother, reminding herself over and over that Ava wasn't in any danger.

She caught Aaron's eyes over her mother's shoulder, and knew her own were panicked, even as she tried to maintain her calm.

"Let's just put you down here. Your mother is going to spoil you, isn't she?" Elizabeth spoke to her granddaughter in the same tone she used with Jack; a matter-of-fact, business-like tone that one might use with employees or colleagues, but certainly not grandchildren. As always, it grated on Emily. It was the tone of her childhood, and she didn't like it any better now than she had back then. "I mean, really, Emily, who knows more about raising children, you or I?"

"Emily has been raising Jack since-"

"Oh, pish, children are different to babies, Aaron, you know that," Elizabeth cut across him, curtly. Emily squeezed her fists at her side, eyes on Ava, who was wriggling in the swing, crying openly now. Elizabeth, though, folded her arms pertly across her chest and fixed Emily with a stare. "See? It's not hurting her to have a little cry, is it, Em? And it's not hurting you, either."

Emily, though, begged to differ as she felt the familiar ache in her breasts that always accompanied her daughter's cries. She sighed, heavily, and stepped forwards, unable to listen to Ava cry without at least trying to comfort her.

"Mother," Emily said, trying her hardest, and surprisingly succeeding, to keep her voice level as she reached back into the swing and lifted her crying daughter out of it, "My daughter is a week old-"

"Well, regardless-" Elizabeth began, but Emily spoke over her, still keeping her voice level. All too aware of how her own moods could affect the child in her arms, she tried to maintain what little sense of calm that she had right now, but felt on the edge of an eruption.

"No, mother," she said, levelly, "Ava is one. Week. Old. She is a baby." She emphasised the word, as though to remind her "She does not understand what it meant to 'manipulate'," Emily added a little extra venom to the word, even as she stroked a gentle hand down her infant's back, "She didn't ask to be born. We made that choice, Aaron and I, we brought her here. She didn't know hunger or pain or anything uncomfortable until I decided to have her, because I selfishly desired a baby. And we are her only source of comfort in a world she doesn't understand yet. Why the fuck would we deny her that?"

Elizabeth flinched at the curse, but Emily didn't back down, her eyes blazing, a stark contrast to the care with which she held her child. From where he stood, a few paces behind Elizabeth, Hotch looked on, approvingly. He had been about to step in when Emily proved that he didn't need to; she had been dealing with Elizabeth her whole life. Even now, emotional and full of post-partum hormones, she didn't need him to fight her battles.

"She cannot, does not know how to, 'manipulate' me." She said, with a finality. Elizabeth looked on with disapproval, her lips pursed, "And if she wants me to hold her every goddamn minute of the twenty-four hours in a day, then I'll bloody well do so, mother. Even if that does mean 'spoiling' her."

Ava was squawling now, truly screeching, and Emily sighed, heavily, her eyes blazing when she looked at her mother, "And thank you, for this."

She stalked from the room, Ava's cries growing more faint as she stomped up the stairs. Aaron watched his wife go, and then turned his gaze on Elizabeth, who looked at him, her finely stencilled eyebrows raised.

"Did I say something wrong?"

Shortly after that, Elizabeth made her leave. She looked pretty put out as she stalked down the garden path, Aaron waving to her from the door. He really wanted to slam it on her, but knew that Emily would appreciate him trying to keep the peace. She had been arguing with her mother her whole life, it was an integral part of their dynamic. It would be a whole different story if he started to argue with Elizabeth, too, and he knew Emily wouldn't appreciate it, so he bit his tongue and made nice on her behalf.

But he did breathe a sigh of relief when he closed the door and she was gone. It was like a dark cloud was lifted from the house.

He looked up the stairs, and softly called out, "Emily?" As he began to climb them.

Ducking his head into Jack's room, his son looked up at him from the carpet with a smile. He lay on his stomach, kicking his legs back and forth as he drew pictures.

"Hey, buddy," Aaron said, "You okay?"

"I'm okay," Jack nodded, "Did grandma leave?"

"She did," Aaron nodded, stepping into the room, "Yeah, I don't think we'll see her for a while."

"Good," Jack said, then looked thoughtfully down at the paper in front of him. When he met Aaron's eyes again, it was with the sort of startling clarity that a seven year old shouldn't have, "She makes Emmy sad."

Sad, nod mad. Not even after he'd heard Emily's raised voice towards her mother did Jack think badly of her. Perhaps, Aaron thought, not for the first time, profiling skills could be inherited, afterall.

"Emmy is okay," Aaron said, reassuring him, "She's just tired."

As if on cue, Jack yawned, and then Aaron did, too.

"Ava doesn't sleep good." Jack pointed out, matter-of-factly, and Aaron smiled.

"Not yet, but she will," as he said it, he hoped it was true, and then turned, "I'm going to check on Emmy, okay?"

"Okay." Jack said, turning back to the drawing. Aaron looked at it, and saw that it was a bassinet, holding a tiny little person with a pink bow. He smiled, love for his son sharp in his chest, and pulled the door as he stepped out into the hallway and made his way to the master bedroom.

"Em?" He said, softly, as he pushed the door open, half expecting to find both of his girls asleep, since he couldn't hear Ava's cries. The bedroom, though, was empty. He frowned, and called to her again, "Em?"

"In here." The soft call came from the bathroom, was barely audible, and Hotch followed her voice, stopping in the doorway at what he saw.

Emily, fully clothed, laying in the bath with Ava on her chest.

"I didn't think it would work without the water," she whispered, eyes downcast on her daughter's head as she stroked a gentle finger over Ava's crown, "But I got in anyway, just to try it. I was going to turn on the water, but she stopped crying almost instantly."

With a smile, Aaron settled himself down onto the toilet lid, clasping his hands in front of himself as he looked at his two girls. Emily didn't look particularly comfortable, but he knew better than to ask to take Ava right now, knew that she was bringing Emily as much comfort as Emily was bringing her.

Instead, he asked, "Are you okay?"

Emily waited a moment before answering, and Hotch saw the tension in her brow as she tried to find the right words. Eventually, she inhaled, slowly, and let all of the air go before answering him, "She just infuriates me."

"I know," he nodded, completely understanding, "I know. She always manages to say the wrong thing."

"It's not even that," Emily began, "I mean, yes, you're right, she does that, too, but it's more than that." She shook her head, started to say, "It's stupid-" but Aaron cut her off.

"It's not stupid," he said, earnestly, "It's not stupid, Em. Talk to me."

She fixed him with a stare, then, and he knew he was the person she trusted most in the world, knew she would lay down her life for him, that she would trust him to do the same for her, but there were still aspects of her life she hadn't completely shared with him yet, and her childhood was one of them. He knew the basics, knew the bones of the sore relationship she had with her mother, but the rest of it, the intricate details that patterned together to illustrate her tapestry of hurt, she kept closer to her heart than she should, close enough that it still huirt.

"She rushed to see Ava," she started, slowly, "She tried to tell me how to parent, tried to tell me what's best for my baby, because she has Ava's best interests at heart," Aaron scoffed and Emily rolled her eyes, "Or, she thinks she does." Again, she shrugged, "I don't know. I suppose I'm… jealous."

"Of Ava?" Aaron kept his face impassive, working hard to understand where she was coming from.

"Yeah," Emily touched her nose to her daughter's head, breathing in the evolutionarily enticing scent of baby that made her head rush and her heart swell, "Seems my mom cares more about her than she ever did about me." She looked up at Aaron, desperation in her eyes as she realised what she'd admitted out loud, "And, of course, I want people to-I want you to love her more than you love me, but-my own mother?" Her brows sloped down, confusion mingling with all of her other emotions, and he saw a twinge of guilt there, too, "Why couldn't she have loved me as much as she loves Ava?"

Aaron knew how much it took for her to say that; everything. Even before Ava, Emily couldn't admit how much she had craved her mother's love, as a child and into her adult years. She never spoke of how it hurt, Elizabeth's indifference, but he knew. He'd seen it in the way she still searched for her mother's approval, even as she simultaneously pushed away from her. He'd seen it in the way she always sent Elizabeth birthday and Christmas cards, even though she never got those in return. He'd seen it when Emily was in labour, when she cried out for her mother, and then made no mention of it afterwards.

He nodded. Even if nobody else would have understood, he did. He understood everything about her, everything she let him in on. He made it his mission to understand her, to help her.

"It's not crazy," Aaron said, shaking his head, "And it's not selfish. And it doesn't make you a bad mother, or mean you love her any less," At this, he exhaled, a short laugh of air, "God, no one could accuse you of not loving her, Em. I saw you when your mom took her from you. I thought we were going to be cleaning up a murder scene."

Emily raised one eyebrow, thinking back on the primal instinct that had grasped hold of her, "We almost were," she muttered, darkly, and Aaron laughed, again.

"See," he said, "You love her. You love her like a mother should. You're not the one who's wrong here, Em." His tone turned serious, as did his eyes, as he implored her to understand, "Your mom is. Every child deserves a mother who loves them as much as you love Ava, as much as you love Jack."

At this, she looked up at him, craning her neck, which was growing sore against the porcelain of the bath. There was an innocence, a sadness, in her eyes that he knew was much more to do with her exhaustion than it was to do with her interaction with Elizabeth. Her lack of sleep and her influx of hormones were catching up with her, and her bottom lip wobbled, adorably, when she spoke.

"I love them so much," she said, her voice cracking, "I just…I don't want to be like her."

"You're not," Aaron replied, instantly, shaking his head and, standing up off of the toilet seat, he reached down to take Ava from her chest. Emily didn't protest, and Ava didn't stir. Aaron leaned back, balancing her, instead, on his own chest. Supporting her with one hand, he offered Emily the other and she hauled herself out of the tub.

"Come on," he told her, "You should sleep while she sleeps."

"I won't be able to sleep," Emily said, sadly, even as she yawned, as widely as Jack had.

"Sure you will," Aaron pressed a kiss to her temple as they walked towards the bed, "Sleep now. We'll continue the fight against generational trauma tomorrow."

Emily punched him, lightly in the ribs, "Shut up," she said, but she was smiling, and she lay down as he pulled back the comforter for her. "I love you."

"We love you, too, mommy."

taglist: @hopefulfangirl24 @thebewingedjewelcat @platypus-whit-boots @luhwithah @cvtsbutcut3 @acetheticlytired @ccmattis-22 @duchessas @scorpiofangirl1109 @natasha-barton @lil-koala @themetaphorgirl @sequinsmile-x @emobabeyy @my-mummy-dust @section-chief-prentiss @canyouhearmyfear @psychicmuffinpandasludge @loriprentiss @bingetvcarls @thenerdthatwrites @daffodil-heart

[icarusignite]

The Darkest Hour Before Dawn

Pairing: Spencer Reid x OC! Althea Devereaux

Chapters: 0 / Prologue / 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5

AO3    | Wattpad

Synopsis

Althea has always been the overlooked middle child, never quite standing out despite her best efforts. But, when a series of tragic events strikes her family, she is forced to step up and prove herself in ways she had never envisioned. With unwavering resolve, she sets her sights on joining the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI, driven by a deep desire to find answers to the biggest mystery of her childhood. It is the one thing that kept her going, the thought that if she could just join the team, she could finally solve the case that has haunted her for years.

Althea's opportunity to join the BAU comes in the form of an unexpected surprise and she finally achieves her goal, acquiring a place on the team she has both admired and resented. Her relentlessness in the pursuit of justice earns her the respect of her colleagues and even the attention of the brilliant Spencer Reid. As she delves deeper into the world of criminal profiling, she discovers that her own personal experiences have given her a unique insight into the minds of criminals. However, she realizes that the truth may be more complicated and dangerous than she could have ever imagined and some secrets are best left buried.

In a world where tragedy and triumph go hand in hand, Althea remains determined to succeed where others have failed her, to make a difference in the world and finally bring closure to her family's long-standing tragedy.

❝And in the end, all that remains is the echo of your name .❞

Althea Devereaux

❝I may have started off as the mediocre middle child, but I refuse to end as anything less than extraordinary.❞

Spencer Reid

❝Well, statistically speaking, you have a better chance of being struck by lightning than finding a date on a Friday night...but hey, that's just the law of averages.❞

Kaitlyn Devereaux

❝I don't need a medical degree to tell you that a broken heart can hurt just as much as a broken bone.❞

Sebastien Devereaux

❝I guess being the baby of the family doesn't protect you from getting sick. Should've asked for a refund on my birth order.❞

"Nyx"

❝You can't just come in here, with your FBI team and your big guns, acting like you're the hero.❞

Ayaan Ahmed

❝I didn't think it was possible to feel this hot after exiting a burning building, but I guess that's just the effect you have on me, Doc.❞

⋇��✦⋆⋇

Young Althea Devereaux: Mckenna Grace Young Elinor Devereaux: Violet McGraw Older Elinor Devereaux: *** Sarah Devereaux: Carla Gugino Michael Devereaux: Ralph Fiennes

The rest of the criminal minds cast as themselves. More characters will be added as the story progresses.

Spotify Playlist

Trigger Warnings and Disclaimer

This is set in the criminal minds world so it will contain quite a bit of violence, abuse, murder, assault, etc. There will also be portrayals of self-harm, self-destructive behaviour, mental health issues, etc. so if that makes you uncomfortable, please be warned. I will put in additional warnings at the beginning of particular chapters that contain specifically triggering content but just an overall warning that it is going to be quite dark.

Also, it goes without saying, sadly I don't own any of the original criminal minds story/characters (I would very much like to own Spencer and Emily). I only own my original characters and the plotlines I give them.

A/N:

Heyyo, in honour of binging like 4 seasons of criminal minds during peak exam season, I thought I'd write a story for it. This OC has been living in my head rent-free for quite a while and I finally found a place to put her so yay. Get ready for heaps of tragedy and angst lol. I am looking forward to this story and I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoy writing it. The story will be set starting season 1 and onwards.

I was gonna have a ships collage chapter but then I realized that may be a bit spoilery so I guess I'll just say that in addition to our main ship, we'll have Hotchniss (I adore them with all my heart), a very badass sapphic couple, and a few others. Hope you enjoy :)

Also, I would absolutely love to hear yall's thoughts on the story as we go along, it really motivates me to write and I get a sense of what yall might wanna see more/less of. I suck at writing summaries but hopefully, the synopsis wasn't too bad lol.

Cheers.

Taglist (comment to be added):

[ssaemilyhotchner]

🌹

"It felt good, having you in the field with us today. Having you at my back.”

Against the curved back of the couch, Emily lolls her head to the side to look at him and their gazes meet. “I’ll always have your back, Hotch,” she says quietly.

—

for every "🌹" received in my inbox i'll post a sentence from a WIP i'm currently writing

read others here

[rawr-jess]

Just doing some light reading ❤️✨

Highly recommend getting some of your favourite fic series printed

Go read this series by @sequinsmile-x if you haven’t already by the way it really is *chefs kiss*

[sequinsmile-x]

I love them just being a normal couple and doing normal things so SUE ME

[minswriting]

୨୧ CRIMINAL MINDS MASTERLIST ୨୧

♡ = smut

❥ one shots with 2 or more characters

what happens in alaska stays in alaska - hotchniss x reader ♡

unknown territory - hotchreid x reader ♡

❥ cm character reactions

♡ cm reactions masterlist

❥ spencer reid

♡ spencer reid masterlist

❥ aaron hotchner

♡ aaron hotchner masterlist

❥ emily prentiss

♡ emily prentiss masterlist

p!links

[dirchristophernolan]

there are quite a few hotchniss episodes that prove my theory of them being soulmates but my favorite will always be 3x02 because that’s the one episode where everything Shifted between them: emily preferred to literally resign from her dream job rather than become strauss’ birdie and snitch on hotch (this despite hotch being a bit awful to her since her joining the team) and hotch 1. realized he had always been wrong about this little smartass charming brat, 2. had the worst fight with his wife, 3. right after, went straight to emily’s to convince her to join him for one more case, 4. said ‘I WANT YOU ON THAT PLANE WITH ME’ to emily, 5. most likely flew commercial with her bouncing off ideas re the case and strauss’ trashy strategy to get rid of both of them, 6. defended her and her idea to get into david smith’s house and 7. swore that her return to the bau would stay official even if his wouldn’t be. AND THEN, we see parallel shots of them at their respective house/apartment looking off into the distance, satisfied about being back but sad about their ill perceived loneliness.

in this other essay i will-

[hyperfixatedoncrimminalminds]

Could you do a hotchniss x daughter reader where they have a teen daughter and she sneakily has a boy over and aaron and Emily come back from a case and they catch him leaving her room and aaron goes into protective dad mode

Aaron Hotchner X Emily Prentiss X Teen Daughter reader

Request: Could you do a hotchniss x daughter reader where they have a teen daughter and she sneakily has a boy over and aaron and Emily come back from a case and they catch him leaving her room and aaron goes into protective dad mode 

Third person pov...

Aaron Hotchner and Emily Prentiss had just returned from a particularly intense case in upstate New York. As they stepped off the plane, both agents were exhausted and eager to get back to their home in Virginia.

Little did they know, they were about to face one of their toughest challenges yet - parenting a teenage daughter.

Currently 16 year old Y/N was home alone, not entirely alone she had invited over her boyfriend, David to watch a movie knowing her parents would be on their way home.

They had already called to let her know they would be landing soon, the two had lots of fun spending the day together doing nothing but watching movies and raiding the kichen for snacks.

"Thank God we're back" Emily sighed as they made their way off the jet "I can't wait to sleep in my own bed."

Aaron chuckled, 'You and me both. I just hope our daughter hasn't wrecked the house while we were gone.'

Emily shot him a look, 'Our daughter is a responsible young lady. I'm sure she's been just fine without us.'

Say8ng goodbye to the rest of thw team they got into their car and drove home, but as they walked through the front door of their home.

They were met with a sight that made both of their hearts sink. In the living room, their 16-year-old daughter, Y/N, was cuddled up on the couch with a boy.

Aaron's eyes narrowed in an instant, and Emily could feel his protective instincts on high alert. The couple slowly made their way into the room, trying not to disturb the teenagers who were watching a movie.

As they got closer, they could see that the boy was not just any boy. It was David, a troublemaker from Y/N's school who they had explicitly told her to stay away from.

The teens where cuddled under a blanket, infront of them on thr coffee table were snacks and drinks, playing on the TV was (Favourite movie) Y/N never watches her favourite movie with just anyone.

The black haired woman looks at her husband and could reqd his mind, "Aaron" Emily whispered, trying to calm him down. 'Let's just talk to her." She took his hand in hers and held it.

This made the man relax slightly but a murderous look still on his face.

But before they could say anything, the movie ended and David stood up to leave, Y/N gave him a smile and stood up to hug and kiss him goodbye and sat back down on the sofa, neither teen had seen the two adults in the doorway.

The boy had a love sick grin on his face As he walked towards the door, Aaron stepped in front of him, blocking his path.

"What are you doing here?" Aaron's voice was low and menacing.

David, who previously exuded confidence, now looked like a deer caught in headlights. He mumbled something incoherent and quickly scrambled out of the house.

Emily took a deep breath and turned to her daughter, who was now standing, she had jumped up from the sofa when she hear heard her dad shout, she looked scared and guilty.

Emily crossed her arms and looked at her daughte "What were you thinking, Y/N?" She said, trying to keep her voice calm.

Y/N nervously played with her hands, not looling up at her parents and thwir disapointed look, "I'm sorry" Y/N replied, tears welling up in her eyes.

"I just really like him, and I knew you wouldn't approve" she sais tears running down her face.

Aaron let out a frustrated sigh and ran a hand through his hair. "That doesn't change the fact that we specifically forbid you from seeing him. He's not a good influence, and you know that"

Y/N shook her head, surprising her parents. "But he's not! He's actually really sweet and not at all like he appears! You always told me not to judge people and here you are doing it!" The teen yells.

She collapses onto the sofa her head in her arms. The adults looked at each other before at their cryjng daughter, they had judged the boy by appearences like she said.

Emily sat down next to her and put an arm around her shoulders. "I'm sorry Honey, you arw right we did judge him but appearance, but it still doesn't make if okay for you to sneak boys inside" she explains to the girl gently.

"Really" Y/N sniffled, wiping at her tears. Aaron knelt in front of her and took her hands in his. "We love you, Y/N. We just want what's best for you" he says gently to the girl.

Y/N nodded, "I promise, he isn't all that bad, just meet him yourself and you'll see!" She insisted.

The two look at each other then back down at their daughter. She does have a point they don't know anything about the boy.

Aaron sighed at the look his wife gave him. "Okay, we will get to know him, but if he hurts you in anyway tell him I've got a gun and knkw how to use it" Says Aaron a not happy smile on his face.

This made the girl laugh, Emily shakes her head at her husband. The couple hugged their daughter and assured her that she was forgiven.

As they talked and cuddled on the couch, Aaron couldn't help but feel grateful for his daughter's honesty and decided to trust her.

'We're going to have to keep a closer eye on her,' Emily said, sipping her tea. 'She's still young, and we can't afford to let her make mistakes like this.'

Aaron nodded, 'I know. It's just hard to believe that our little girl is already sneaking boys into her room.'

Emily chuckled, 'We were teenagers once too, Aaron. We can't expect her to be perfect. We just have to guide her and hope that she learns from her mistakes.'

As they sat in comfortable silence, both agents were reminded of the challenges of being parents to a teenager. But they also knew that they were a strong team and would do anything to protect their daughter, even if it meant going into protective dad mode every now and then.

The end!

Hope you liked this oneshot, sorry for thr wait on this request. As usual sorry for grammar and Spelling mistakes.

Requests are open!

Word count : 1133

[elsie-talisman]

prepare for a mind dump… but if anyone wants to make these ideas into fan fictions please do so, and send me the link xxx

i have always been a hotchniss shipper, and i always will be.

BUT….

i have just seen an edit, and i dont know why its never clicked this way before, but i was slightly more convinced of canon gay emily

now don’t get me wrong! I love canon gay emily i truly have watched, and enjoyed, enough jemily, temily, penemily edits to be convinced that our girl likes to taste the rainbow! even when she was up in spokane with the ranger and her cameo in the spin off are a lil fruity

and we all know emily was written (or was planned to be a lesbian originally) which after watching this edit made me wonder when exactly this idea was squashed

i remember once reading they were going to have a scene of her waking up with a woman as the reveal (but i can’t remember if this was a fan idea or actually the plan)

but now I want to know if paget played emily with her sexuality in mind for a while … the scene in the edit from 2x12 seems like she’s actively against going with this detective (although one could argue this is purely from a post lauren/doyle perspective)

plus the scenes with the ranger and her scenes with derek in the early season could be re-read obviously (as people have done, especially with the ranger)

now sadly in 2x16 emily says her date was with a man, so the fantasy is slightly lost, but she could’ve been lying. we know she was raised with her cold/ strict upbringing. im sure emily knew from an early age her sexuality would be rejected by her family, and maybe like our girl frankie dart she liked to keep it all separate!

with the 2x16 deleted scenes in mind too i would’ve loved if they explored the demily romantic relationship, but with emily as a closeted lesbian

(side note, but those scenes and a few more early demily scenes have definitely lead me happily down that rabbit hole)

anyway imagine it….

derek doesn’t believe he’s good enough for emily, as he told reid, he finally shoots his shot and she turns him down

he’s hurt, she’s embarrassed and it’s basically awkward as fuck and the team aren’t sure why

eventually derek goes to emilys house to clear the air and she opens the door wide eyed and clearly scared of something, pretending she’s fine (this is still emily prentiss)

clattering heard from within her apartment and dereks like… oh, do you have company?

suddenly, a woman comes from the kitchen calling out to emily (probably calling her babe for the whole cliche)

emily is panicked derek goes wide eyed and the woman notices he’s there saying hello as emilys in full internal panic and then derek being the great guy he is exhales and introduces himself

fully accepting this significant fact about his friend without even blinking

…now he’s in on the secret

(we could even have a break up the team don’t know it was a girlfriend not a boyfriend then some jemily yearning)

(or instead of emilys apartment and some random girlfriend it could be the ranger in spokane in emilys hotel room)

[cloudlessly-light]

Please come back to write something spicy, I live off your works:).

Hi anon!

I have 4 or 5 things started that I just can’t seem to find time to finish. Between work, traveling and a bit of a writers block I’ve been struggling to find the time. But little messages like this really motivate me and I’m hoping (not making any promises) that I’ll get age gap Hotchniss up next week as well as another one-shot!💛

[justagirl-purplejellosg1]

Hotchniss one-shot, standalone story.

Oblivious - in which Sergio comes to the rescue and Dave tries to talk some sense into Aaron:

[criminalmindsgonewrong]

Part of the Hotchner's Future AU.

fic #1 for my Graduation Celebration

Emily and Aaron's kids catch them in a...compromising position. The kids are disgusted, Aaron thinks it's kinda funny, Emily is in a panic. Aaron is right.

wordcount: 3.4k

based on a prompt i recieved a while ago by a sweet nonny to write this based on the Modern Family episode 'Caught in the Act'. I had fun writing it nonny, thanks for the prompt <3

read on ao3 or fanfiction.net

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It was kind of a myth in the Hotchner household.

Even before she and Aaron were ever together, Emily never really knew the benefit of having a saturday off. In their line of work, a 'weekend' didn't really exist; if there was a serial killer out doing their thing, the BAU didn't get a weekend.

Then, for Aaron, Jack came along, and any window of leisure time he had grew narrower still, especially after Haley's death when he became a single father juggling parenthood and his work, and then their relationship, too.

There was a brief period of time somewhere in their early years of dating, probably when Jack was around six, and during the occasional weekend they magically weren't working, when those weekends fell on Jessica's weekend to have Jack, or holiday's Haley's parents would take him on, when they infrequently got a day off together. Even before they tied the knot, they used to refer to it as marital bliss.

Staying up late together, talking about everything in the midnight hours, sleeping in late, breakfast in bed and sex.

Lots of sex.

Early on in their relationship, they were, for lack of a better word, feral for one another. It became somewhat unbearable for their friends to be around, occasionally.

But sex leads to babies. Three babies, actually. Three babies who were very much loved and wanted, but who followed in Jack's footsteps and continued to absorb the limited time that Aaron and Emily got to themselves. That time was all but nonexistent by the time Alex, their final baby, came along.

to continue reading, follow one of the above links

taglist: @hopefulfangirl24 @thebewingedjewelcat @platypus-whit-boots @luhwithah @cvtsbutcut3 @acetheticlytired @ccmattis-22 @duchessas @lucreziaq2001 @scorpiofangirl1109 @natasha-barton @lil-koala @themetaphorgirl @sequinsmile-x @emobabeyy @my-mummy-dust @section-chief-prentiss @canyouhearmyfear @psychicmuffinpandasludge @loriprentiss @bingetvcarls @thenerdthatwrites @daffodil-heart

[whump-town]

saw the hotchgon and was craving hotchniss after 🥹🥹🥹

I have seen more than one request for Hotchniss in my inbox and I swear to god I have been thinking about writing it for ages but I am sometimes very slow and very unmotivated... nonetheless, here we are --

Ask

Hotch gets shot, Emily has too much time to worry

Word Count: 5k

This is already on A03 if you'd prefer to read it there!!

Emily’s been conflicted. Uncertain about the one thing that she knows without a question of a doubt. That’s the problem with knowing the right answer but not having the bravery to do the right thing. Is this the right thing? There isn’t even such a thing. No way to know except when it’s somehow obvious, but only when it’s wrong. How would Emily even know if this was right? It only appears right, but mirages exist solely in confoundment, in the vulnerability of need. 

Hotch leaves socks everywhere. His nightstand always has at least three glasses of water and various other things stacked atop its small surface – Hotch’s glasses precariously at the top. He shaves in the sink and “cleans” it but there’s always little hairs everywhere. He uses three-in-one soap in the shower. Snores. Hogs the covers. Sweats in his sleep. 

But… Emily has never needed Hotch, he’s always been there. She couldn’t explain the feeling because it isn’t just one. It’s like a live wire connects them, courses from one of them to the other in a constant exchange of energy. Which makes it a physical matter, her body knows his well in this exchange of equal parts. She had felt a disturbance in her chest, like her heart couldn’t quite work as well as it wanted, before she had found Hotch in the hospital after Foyet’s attack. Her body stung with the burns from the near severance, the entry and exit of burning high voltage through delicate skin. The wire throws sparks, sizzles and arcs a bright white heat but it stays connected. 

Toe to toe, lip to lip. A give and take of equal parts, understanding until her hand moves to the sore spot on his side or his rough thumb exactly where the throb is in her head. The shivers of desperation and adrenaline, cold lips. The smell of sterility and medicine. The taste of salty tears or copper blood. Love in only desperation, love without bravery and dedication. Love as it exists rawly. 

She knows that he loves her. It soothes her aching heart just a little to consider the warmth. The way that he extends his fingers out to her, waiting for her to take hold of him. Never speaking, never needing to. He looks at her the way no one else ever has – understanding her. Knowing what she wants, how she needs it. There is never a hint of annoyance, of inconvenience. He wants to love, and god Emily hopes she’s shown him the same.

He could die and she will never know or he may live and she still doesn’t know how to change it. Mostly, she can’t. 

She sits. Pacing becomes taxing, her legs now trying to shake embarrassingly with adrenaline now useless but ever present through her. Reid doesn’t seem to mind that she chooses the chair beside him. He’s chosen to sit right beside JJ, and now Emily is forced to hear the trance-like information in his dry, never fluctuating monotone as if all he is stating is merely facts. Devoid of the attachment they all know Reid has for Hotch. But Hotch has been on blood thinners for years, all kinds of medications that Spencer could recall with incredible accuracy and no hesitation to bridge the gap between prescription names and the duty they fulfilled. These things accounted for how Hotch had panicked, why he had fought them so ceaselessly as they tried to slow the rapid dumping of his blood onto the floor. He was in shock. 

The team is already in shambles. Uneasily, none of them know where or how to stand by each other. Trust is such a delicate thing, such a tricky feeling to have alongside love. And that’s what the problem is – love. And if Emily dying and now suddenly being alive was not challenging enough, Hotch has made it worse. He’s made it impossible to feel petty. Forced open again were the roles they know instinctively with one another. Reid and Morgan had kneeled down beside one another, calling to JJ for help on the radio as Hotch lay crumpled on the floor. It didn’t matter that Hotch had lied to them, his warm blood spreading beneath their fingers had warned of distance with permanence. He wouldn’t be across the ocean this time, technically only one emergency phone call away. And so they placed their hands over the wounds, trying to ward off the black closing in Hotch’s vision.

It’s haunting imagery even as Reid recounts it so factually. 

Somehow, it makes the doctor’s news go down more smoothly. Emily’s thinking about how the surgeon looks very much like a nonsense kind of military guy, seems very trustworthy, like the perfect guy to be working on Hotch. It takes a moment to hear the doctor and she frowns, “what?”

“We’re going to take Agent Hotchner up to surgery but the operation room won’t be ready for another twenty minutes.” The doctor says this slowly, watching Emily’s face still mixed with confusion. “He’s asked for you, I can take you back to his room.”

Dumbly, Emily onlys nods. Her numb lips mumble out, “Yeah, okay.” 

They go just down the hall, turn and the doctor motions her forward into a room. Fidelity, Bravery, Integrity – not a single trait she possesses at this moment. Professionalism stripped. Masks out of place. The fear of losing Hotch sits immensely on her chest, enough that she can’t stand the reality of seeing him. Had he faltered in her doorway like this? Too afraid to see her attached to machines, in moments so intimate and tense Emily’s mind has wiped them from her memory. It scares her that she might see through him here, feel his weak heart and his dying breath. 

Still, she can’t resist seeing him. Emily has spent so long without them all but even now Hotch feels so far away. She can see that parts of him are not here, have not arrived yet from the plane overseas. Maybe he can see that about her too. 

Emily’s stomach sours at the familiarity of the sight of Hotch laying still. His head turns ever slowly towards the noise at the door, his lips cracking upward feebly. Unable to stop herself, Emily smiles at Hotch. 

“Em–” he mouths the rest of her name and Emily moves faster to him, around the other side of the bed to take his cold, clammy hand. He opens his mouth again and Emily presses her lips to his, preventing his voice from catching on her name. The oxygen canal under his nose is wedged between them, plastic digging into the skin of their faces but deterring neither. Emily moves just enough to touch her forehead to his, their breath hot against the other’s face and still Hotch tries to tip his head up. “Emily,” her name is so loose on his tongue that it’s no better gargled out but it’s her’s. 

“Shh,” tears finally fall down her face and Emily stands back up, hearing the distressed noise that leaves Hotch. She wipes her eyes and when her hands move from her line of vision, his pale fingers are stretched up in search of her. Emily doesn’t think about taking his hand, wrapping both of hers around his, so gentle and mindful of the wires and lines poking under his skin and monitoring his body. His grip is delicate but desperate, her own possessive.

They say nothing. Tears wedge from the corners of their eyes. Uselessly, Hotch opens his mouth and weakly his voice tries to obey his mindless command to say her name. It seems the only thing he’s capable of, the only thing he needs or wants to say. She brings his hand to her lips, first to kiss and then gently pressing a little bit of warmth back his fingers. Emily holds his hand to her face, closes her eyes and relaxes into the feeling of his fingers gently spreading to touch her cheeks, the corners of her eyes, her nose. 

Overcome by some sort of sorcery, Hotch lies perfectly still, his unseeing eyes are aimed at Emily, fingers loosely woven in her’s as the doctor’s prepare to take him to surgery. Emily knows any sort of separation between them would snap him from wherever he’s sunken to, because she knows he’s only kind of here with her. Tethered by the curl of her fingers around his. She watches his eyes sink as sedatives swirl into his IV, the moment that he becomes tired and fights it. 

Irritatedly, Hotch tries to shift and he groans, not feeling pain, but his body is still aware of the injury. His fingers clench and Emily steps a little closer, watching his face as she holds his hand tighter, their palms together. His face relaxes against his will, eyes sinking and hardening in intensity for the briefest moment on her. 

“Don’t go–” he chokes out, she feels a fleeting strength in his grip on her hand. Where his fingers press into the skin of her hand, trying to keep her here. There’s a sharp clarity in the request, in his eyes. He knows what comes next, knows this feeling, he wants to wake up and find her here. He wants her holding his hand. He wants… her.

“I–” her voice is no stronger than his, it breaks more tears from her eyes. I can’t – but she can. She could. Emily is here now, she could be here when he wakes again. She stands watching him watch her, the neverending stream of tears following the soft lines of age in the corners of his eyes. Stray tears that slide down the tip nose. But she’s not brave enough to love him like this when he’ll remember. 

“Emily.”

“Relax,” Emily manages, her voice wet and suddenly Hotch’s hand is so very heavy. “You’re going to be fine,” she says gently, moving her grip to hold the weight of his arm. Mirroring tears fall from their eyes as weakly Hotch tries one last time to speak her name. Only his lips move, his eyes on her until they finally shut, tears falling down his face. His fingers give a twitch and Emily squeezes his hand back quickly.

She can’t let him go. His hand is limp in hers, tears that Emily caused are fat and damp on his dark eyelashes. She hears the doctors and nurses preparing to move him, she knows she needs to place his hand back on the bed, but she holds it. Maybe he is still awake, still fighting desperately to twitch his fingers again, to move his slackened lips to form her name. She squeezes his deadened fingers and this time it’s his name that goes unanswered. “Aaron?” Emily reaches to touch his face, not hearing a nurse trying to direct her out. “I love you,” mindlessly, Emily brushes a tear from his eye. “Aaron?” 

It feels as though there is nothing to say. Dreadfully, aimlessly Emily walks back to the waiting room. The floor… the walls… tile… She moves on feet that just seem to know where to go because her head is empty. Stuffed, almost, with soft cotton like a doll. She can feel the soft, dry edges touching her skull. Maybe it’s just bellows of smoke, nothing solid at all but graciously containing quantities of heat in bursts. 

Whatever it is – it hurts.

—----------------

The knife bites under the side of Emily’s chin and burns where her skin splits under the blade. Blood rushes in her ears, drowning out Ian’s grumbled monologue, the hairs on her arms painful pinpricks. Ian stays close, his hot breath burns her cold skin as he breathes her name, Lauren, against her neck. He comes up, lips brushing above the bleeding cut on her jaw, to her ear. Emily can hear Ian’s smile as he whispers into her ear, making her twitch, trying to flinch away from proximity. “That looks like it hurts.”

Emily takes a shuddering breath, stills herself, and looks over to Ian. Her lips tight, her voice hissing as she reminds him, “You’ve done worse.” She looks into his eyes, unnerved by the knife point touching her skin at one sharp point. Ian had hurt her worse, putting his hands on her too many times to count. Their relationship was always real, regardless of the details. Years ago, she loved him too much, stood in his kitchen with tears in her eyes, glass shards in her hair, and around her feet. Ian would come back a few days later with purple lilies the same shades as her healing bruises. 

Ian smile sours, twists into a snarl. He grabs the back of Emily’s hair, jerking her head back, and Emily shouts at the sudden strain, her toes pushing at the floor as much as she can as he pulls for her to move further than she can. Ian puts the knife back against her throat, against where her throat bulges at the angle, but Emily doesn’t look away. There is no fear. She’s not afraid of him. When Ian sees it, he releases her with a chuckle. Emily rocks back down with a thud, she leans forward, dropping her hair over her face as she wills her tears to go away. She can’t cry. She can’t.

Ian crouches down in front of her, putting his hand on her knee and guiding it up until he’s touching her side. He’d bound her arms and legs to the chair, knowing how clever his Lauren could be when presented with a challenge. He just looks at her, taking his time, she can’t go anywhere. Ian reaches up from her side and touches her cheek with the back of his hand. He smiles when she leans her head away. Shaking his head, Ian sighs. “I wasn’t talking about you,” he says sweetly. She’s startled and doesn’t flinch when he reaches up to push his hand through her hair and hold the side of her head. Bringing her close to him. “I know what you can take, Lauren.” Emily flinches as Ian stands too suddenly, his hands coming down, and grabs the sides of the chairs and jerks her around. “I was talking about him.” The spin startles her, making her unable to gather her bearings for a moment. Staring through a spinning room full of black dots, it takes her a moment to realize what she’s looking at. Who she’s looking at. 

Laying semi-conscious on the floor in front of two of Ian’s men is Hotch. Emily tries to keep a straight face, seeing his drained complexion and his mouth hanging open to suck at laborious breaths while his eyes rest aimlessly on the concrete below.  

Ian gives a silent gesture and the men nod, hauling Hotch upright. One grabs Hotch by the hair, pulling his fallen head up, and places the blade under Hotch’s chin, drawing blood. 

Hotch’s face is pale, white and his throat bared to her as one of Ian’s men holds Hotch upright by his hair. She can see the whites of his eyes. Hotch makes a small sound, a ragged breath, and Emily watches his eyes move. But his efforts get him nowhere, his chest moves faintly with his shallow breaths, his blood just keeps rushing down his front. His pants are soaked. The floor's puddle is only growing. He’ll bleed to death, Emily realizes. He's going to die. Stop. Stop. Stop. Emily sets her eyes forward. Ian starts talking again but she can hardly think, let alone hear. Foyet had Hotch for an hour, at least. Video footage, she’d watched it all, and Hotch had survived each slow-moving second. Survived. She glances over at Hotch again, watching his eyes slowly roll forward again, his consciousness fleeting but there. Still there.

Caught in Hotch’s deadened glaze, Emily sits perfectly still. She can’t look away from him. She watches blood trickle down his neck, slipping down below his collar to gather and soak into his shirt. 

Ian says nothing. The man with the knife smirks and nods his head. 

“No!” Emily yelps but it’s too late. 

Hotch clutches at his throat, not pain twisted on his face but confusion, and he’s looking right at her. His mouth opens and Emily tries to scream his name but she can make no sound, suddenly doesn’t have the breath to.  The men release their hold on him and Hotch falls limply forward, head hitting the ground, and he lays on his stomach. 

Emily watches as he twitches and shakes, as the blood begins to puddle out and slowly stops. 

It isn’t until Ian steps between them that Emily truly believes what’s in front of her. 

“Tell me where Declan is, sweetheart. Don’t make his death senseless.”

Death. Hotch is dead. He’s really dead. Emily’s eyes rake over his prone form, waiting, until she realizes that he has fallen completely still. No longer shaking or twitching. She’s the one shaking, that she has snot and tears soaking her face.  She can’t look away from the back of Hotch’s head, all the short hairs on the back sticking this way and that. All Emily can feel is pain, bright and heavy from her shoulders to her stomach. The nevers. All the things that will never happen again. The fact that she’s sitting here and he’s… and he’s gone and all she wants is for him to come back already. The weight of it sucks at Emily’s air, her hope to live right now bled to death in front of her, and no matter how she gasps for it, every breath isn’t enough.

“Emily!” Ian is in her face in an instant. “Emily!”

Emily suddenly finds her arms free and wildly, eyes pinched shut, blindly she swings at him. Her shoulders are grabbed and Emily jerks with the hard shake she’s giving. Opening her eyes, Emily finds herself inches from Dave, his too-tight fingers holding onto her arms. “Emily?”

She blinks, eyes adjusting to the darkness in the room. Looking at Dave all she can think of is Hotch on that floor. Dave would be devastated, and Emily realizes she’s still crying, still sucking at the air – she’s devasted. Dave says nothing more, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her against his chest. His hand rests atop her head and he sways them gently. Emily clings to him, her fingers aching with her hold on his shirt. 

“Oh sweetheart,” Dave whispers, rubbing her back. “I’ve been waking up in the middle of the night and worrying myself gray over that man for the last twenty-years.” Pressed against him, Emily can feel him take in a deep breath and shake his head. “Showed his age a little today, huh?” He shivers a little at the thought. Aaron had shuttered, laid there for moments far too long, too still. Even when Aaron had opened his eyes, his mouth had opened to and the only noise to leave was ragged, gasping breaths he took greedily like the air in the room had been thinned out. 

Emily hides herself against him for a moment, knowing immediately that her dreams must not have been very silent. That she must have screamed for Hotch like she had tried in her dream.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

She’s there again in an instant, Hotch’s ashy face looking back at her. “No.” Emily sits up, turning her head away as she wipes at her face with the end of her t-shirt. The weight of the grief is still there, it’s pressed and wedged itself up under her ribs. And any thought of it brings another wave of tears and she can’t keep them at bay. 

Dave looks at her softly, “alright.” He knows even if she won’t say – he doesn’t know but he is correct in the educated guess he’s made. She was dreaming about Hotch, not a happy dream. “He’s probably awake,” Dave offers, “old habits die hard.”

Hotch is an insomniac. The coffee he consumed never helped but Hotch is a nocturnal man, Emily knows he’d normally be awake. The hospital had released him with medication, cocktails of things that should certainly put Hotch to bed early tonight, but that is dependent on him taking them as prescribed and… Emily knows he hasn’t taken them. 

“They checked him over good,” Dave reaches over and wipes a tear from the side of her face, “he’ll be moving slow for a while, but he’s okay.” Dave pats Emily’s leg, “might wanna splash some water on your face.”

Emily nods and stops, narrowing her eyes a moment at the ground. She looks at Dave for a moment, compulsively going to question how he’d made the assumption she was going to leave their room and go look for Hotch, and then deciding better. She wipes at her face with her hands again and moves with Dave to stand. Her legs shake beneath her but Emily rights herself, finding them not weak just unstable. All of her is shaking. As she walks to the bathroom, Emily can hear Dave opening the hotel door, peaking outside. 

He comes to the closed bathroom door and gives a soft knock, “He’s getting something from the vending machine.” 

“Okay,” Emily says back. She doesn’t look closely at herself, just under her tired eyes to make sure she really got her mascara off before. Checking the water with her fingers, Emily bows her head and splashes some water over her face, an immediately regrettable decision as she closes her eyes and there he is again. Pale bloodless face and all the white’s of his eyes. The back of his head and the cowlick he can never tame. 

She can’t keep seeing him like this.

Emily says nothing to Dave as she leaves, attempting to look inconspicuous without any hope. Nothing she has done in the last forty-eight hours has been very low profile. Most of the first day is blank. Vividly, Emily remembers the hospital but after she left Hotch’s room she had just moved like a robot. For the team she scraped together a few words, Hotch was conscious but too weak to speak. And then she went to the precinct, picked up all the paperwork she could find, and has been cooped up in her hotel room since. Which has been fine because Rossi has stayed at the hospital except tonight Hotch is in the hotel too, waiting with the rest of them on arranging travel plans in the morning.

Emily steps out into the cold and she sees Hotch immediately. He’s at the end of the hall, leaning on the last bit of railing against the brick. She hasn’t seen him since she’d gone back before his surgery. 

He looks better than he had before. He’s back in his own clothing, only a t-shirt and what looks like pajama bottoms. Naturally, she thinks, he wouldn’t think to grab a coat. Emily tries to make her eyes wander, she scans miscellaneous trash scattered along the ground, cigarette butts left nearby but seldomly within pots that likely once had flowers but not recently, but she looks back up. 

Hotch backs up from the rail, holding onto his chest, and his head down. 

Only a few steps away, Emily moves her foot out and nudges a flowerpot. She smiles when Hotch’s head snaps up. The pain is quickly hidden behind by accusing squinted eyes, “Sneaking up on me?”

Emily rolls her eyes, “if you weren’t going–”

“What?” Hotch interrupts, loudly.

“Nothing,” Emily puffs. She was going to say deaf, if you weren’t going deaf… He should have heard her coming. He needs to get his hearing checked again. “Nevermind. What’re you doing out here?” 

Hotch painfully straightens himself up and nods his head toward the vending machines humming in the alcove. “Snack,” he answers simply. “I could ask you the same,” he cocks his head to the side in a way that very much means that he is asking. 

Emily hums, stepping around him, and nodding her head toward the machines – she expects that he’ll understand her silence, as that’s how it’s supposed to go – but he stays right where he is, that gloomy glare all the more frightening without any lights to soften it. “What?” she asks, finally. 

Hotch shifts himself carefully, his hand never leaves the railing, “Why are you awake?”

Emily huffs, “That was not the question we agreed on.”

Silence. 

More gloomy glare. 

Emily sighs, “I’ll tell you, alright?” She motions her hand toward the machines, “But I need a snack first.”

Hotch accepts the bargain with a nod and his face tenses, jaw clenched as he drags himself forward a step, releasing his grip on the railing, his safety. The next step is stuttered, stiff –

Emily mutters and steps up beside him, wrapping her arm around his back. “Thought you got shot in the shoulder, not the leg.” She can think of no better excuse to invade his personal space and Emily finds comfort in the feeling of the muscles in his back constricting and pulling. Emily can’t help but look up at him, wondering if this is a good excuse in his mind too. 

“I’m bruised head-to-toe,” Hotch manages slowly, wrapping his arm around her, each word spoken one by one. “My head hurts…” 

The sound that comes from Emily is wet, a little less dismissing huff than she would have preferred. She can just see his eyes losing their focus as he thinks, it’s half a laugh and half… not. His pain is unbearable, worse than her own somehow. 

Hotch looks at her, steps not exactly moving in a straight direction and therefore reliant on Emily to keep them going forward. Drugs have made his tongue loose in his mouth, and without his normal filter, Hotch raises an eyebrow, “that can’t be why you’re awake.”

Emily repeats the noise and she can see it’s even more confusing for him, and still an unconscious confirmation. She rolls her eyes, “no.” 

“Very convincing.”

“Not everything’s about you, Aaron.” Looking at him, Emily can’t help but smile and he can’t seem to help it either. Emily turns to the bright lights of the vending machine, slipping out from under Hotch.  “I need chocolate. What’re you getting?”

Hotch leans against a machine, looking at his options. “Pretzels.”

Emily makes a face but makes the selection, watching his treat fall to the bottom of the machine. Her eyes rake over the options, consciously ignoring Hotch’s even gaze on her.

“I have an appointment with an orthopedic surgeon Tuesday.”

Emily gets a Snickers, puts in the code, and bends down for the snacks.

“It was a relatively clean shot. The bone should heal on its own without a second surgery.” 

Emily’s lip twist, “not very clean.” It leaves only a whisper but when she stands, she can tell he’s heard her. He’s looking at her with a flat, interpreting gaze, like he’s right inside her head, floating around with her racing thoughts. “It wasn’t.” Her voice is tight, her whole body fighting his invasion. “You–” her voice cracks. She’s not fighting him, she’s fighting the tears that have been trying to fall all day. 

Hotch steps forward and Emily throws her hand up. “No,” she says, firmly but softly. “Please…” her voice is still shaky and he stands still, waiting patiently as she takes a deep breath. Emily clears her throat and wipes her eyes, she looks up at him with a smile. Eyes still wet, she laughs, “I can’t handle a hug right now just–” 

Hotch nods, understanding. 

She smiles tensely, forcing another laugh, trying to shake the rest of the feelings away. “God, Hotchner,” she scrubs her hand down her face, “why do you always do this to me?” 

Hotch’s lips tighten. 

Emily takes another shaky breath and she rolls her eyes at the expression on Hotch’s face. “Your face is going to get stuck like that one these days,” she says, raising an eyebrow at him.

His dark eyes keep seeing right into her, his silence strong. With the release of a breath he relaxes just a little, “how do we know it hasn’t already?” 

“Good point,” Emily agrees. “It does usually look like that.”

“Mmm,” Hotch hums. Seeing the face he’s making, Emily already feels annoyed before he speaks. “I can only assume you have more on your mind tonight besides my face being stuck like this. It’s never kept you up before, at least.” 

Emily narrows her eyes, smiling, “you’re relentless.” He seems unbothered by the accusation. Emily’s smile falls into a tense grimace, “it has nothing to do with– … you.” She really wants to finish the sentiment strongly but she meets his eyes. Lying is fun, it’s easy. When lying can also hide her carefully behind the safety of its shade, there’s nothing she would rather do. But she doesn’t want to lie, not when she’s looking right at him. 

“It’s just dreams,” Emily’s voice surprises herself, how softly, tentatively she speaks. 

“They’re never just dreams.”

Does he know? Somehow, Emily thinks he can see right to the dream itself. A strange mirroring image of the man standing over her now and the one on his knees – both looking at her, waiting on her. “It was a different dream  tonight,” her eyes dart between his, “but the same thing always happens…” 

He has to know. He’s looking at her like he can see himself, like he can see her thrashing in her imaginary bonds. “What happens?”

His voice is too soft, he’s too gentle. Emily doesn’t want to cry but her lips are bunching up, betraying her with an ugly cry building itself up. She can’t look at him. “I lose you,” her voice breaks.

“Emily.” Does she say his name like this? There’s little time to wonder, eyes closed she goes where he tips her chin up, knowing he’ll taste the tears falling down her face when his lips press to hers. “Emily,” she can feel his breath on her face. She could hear him say her name over and over. He says it like no one’s ever spoken her name before. The thrill is like hearing your mother language in a foreign country. Like hearing it for the very first time. “I’m here. I’m here.”

“I know,” she complies miserably, “I know.” She cries anyway and he comes closer. Emily realizes that she’s leaning into his side. His side because his arm is strapped securely between them, bound to his chest. His hand on the back of her head until she’s done, left with only a little embarrassment. 

“I have something for you,” Hotch says and Emily laughs wiping at her face. 

“What is it?”

Emily feels with giddy excitement to take Hotch’s hand to go back down the hall to try and silently slip through the room he’s sharing with Reid without waking him. She’s surprised the genius is sleeping at all but the last few days have been exhausting, she doesn’t know how she’s awake. Hotch opens the door to the little porch connected to the room. “Wait,” Hotch whispers, easing the door shut.

She waits anxiously outside, shivering with excitement encouraged with the chill of the wind. It’s all of a minute and the door is opening as Hotch comes back out. Emily can see at once that Hotch’s nerves have taken him over, making him unsure of himself. 

 “It’s… kind of strange,” he says, not meeting her eyes, and she finds the gift curled in his fingers. She moves her hands close to his to accept it into her hand. “The bullet chipped my collar bone,” his cheeks are flushed, red with embarrassment. “You don't have to keep it. I thought… I thought you might want it.”

Bone, his bone. A chip of his bone. Emily closes her fingers around it, squeezing it in her palm. When her fingers open the bone feels so different. Her thumb strokes it curiously. “I love it,” she says, examining it between her thumb and forefinger.

“Y– You do?” Emily looks up – he seems so surprised. Surprised and then warm, something incredibly warm shines over his eyes, changing the way that he’s looking at her. “I love you.” 

Emily opens her mouth, she’s only more confused by Hotch’s certainty. He makes no move to take it back. No nerves. He’s looking right at her and he knows it, he’s just telling her. It’s more than that. She can tell it’s more. He knows she loves him too. 

“You were all I could think about.” 

He had asked for her in the hospital. Had he been saying her name all that time before she’d come back? The same persistence or worse than what she’d seen when she had been right beside him holding his hand. Emily looks all the way up at him as he stands closer and closer. Her lips part for his and she lets him kiss her again, barely restraining from leaning fully into him.  

“I couldn’t stand the thought of dying without seeing you one last time,” he whispers against her lips, looking deep into her surprised eyes. “You’d better be the last thing I see before I die.” 

Emily’s breath stutters, her eyes dart down to his lips, before coming back up to his eyes. “Ask for me,” she whispers.

“I’ll always ask for you, Emily.”

[ssaemilyhotchner]

Congrats on the 1k can I get the letter J if that’s already done taken C.

tysm, @make-a-memory-drink-it-up! 🌸

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

letter: C | prompt: cherry blossoms | wc: 1.1k a/n: I am admittedly a sucker for Hotchniss reunions where Emily just…shows up on Hotch’s doorstep one evening; impractical, perhaps, but there’s something so uniquely enjoyable about writing the rawness, the surprise. When I first wrote this one in 2011, it was a one-shot where Hotch didn’t know that Emily’s death had been faked and that she was actually alive. However, I’ve reconfigured it a lot since then and it can now just be read as a redux of the drabble I did for R.

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

--

He finds her sitting on the couch in his living room, her eyes cast to the window, unseeing. She’s motionless, hasn’t made a sound for half an hour. For a moment, he questions whether she’s even breathing, but then she lets out the smallest of sighs and his legs are carrying him over to her of their own volition, his arms encircling her like a fortress.

In the silence, he asks the one question he thinks he already knows the answer to.

“You’re running, aren’t you?”

She doesn’t answer, doesn’t chide him for profiling her. Instead, she brings her gaze to meet his and he’s startled at the flat look he sees reflected there. She has risen to her feet and is moving away when he hears the whisper slip past her bitten lips.

“Let’s go to bed, Aaron.”

He follows her wordlessly, watching as she removes her linen robe and drapes it over the armchair in his bedroom. Slowly, reverently, he trails his hands over her newly-bare arms and shivers in tandem with her at the goosebumps that erupt on her skin. His touch lingers with a tenderness so profound that she almost breaks down and confesses all of her sins right then and there. But she’s trained herself better than that.

There’s a lump in his throat when he finally guides her to the bed. He’s struck then by just how beautiful she is, her hair still slightly damp from her shower, and the smell he has come to associate with her—cherry blossoms, like D.C. in April—has never been more enchanting. 

He’s undressing himself when she speaks again.

“Will you hold me?”

Her voice is so unsettlingly soft that he nearly forgets to reply. He nods eventually, his stomach twisting as she buries her face in his neck and grasps his hand so tightly, like she’s afraid to let go.

And maybe she is afraid. Maybe she has reason to be, because now he’s certain she’s running. From what or whom, he doesn’t know, and it’s only postulation anyway, but it’s this that he’s thinking when he hears her breath catch in her throat. Suddenly she’s kissing him with every fiber of her being and it’s tearing him to pieces, but all he can do is kiss her back and focus on the feel of her, this martyr whom he loves, as she tries in vain to tell him what she desperately wants to but refuses to explicitly say.

He thinks he imagines her next words, but from the steely set of her jaw, he knows she’s said them aloud.

“Don’t come after me.”

--

In the morning, he wakes to an empty bed and his pillow smells of cherry blossoms.

--

He gets home late, the only thought on his mind that he needs a drink, and a strong one at that. But he opens the cupboard to find a graveyard of mostly-empty bottles there, cloudy and spent.

It’s been seven months and he thinks of her every goddamned night. The alcohol helps, or that’s what he tells himself. But now he’s gone and run out and he’s not even surprised at the anger that flares up as a result. Briefly, he contemplates heading out to the liquor store down the street before he realizes just how exhausted he actually is.

He stumbles into the dark bedroom, not even bothering to change out of his suit—he pulls the tie off, though, a small miracle—or brush his teeth before falling into bed, face-first. He knows he’ll feel disgusting in the morning, but he can’t bring himself to care.

Until.

There, on the sheets. He smells it.

His mind is playing tricks on him, he realizes bitterly; it is the only plausible explanation and wouldn’t be the first time. But then he smells the unmistakable fragrance of cherry blossoms in the air, too, and he wonders how he didn’t notice it when he first walked through the door.

“Show yourself,” he commands, upright and gun drawn. “Whoever you are. Show yourself.”

For a long moment, silence.

Then, out of the corner of his eye, he sees movement in the shadows. Her arms are raised in something reminiscent of a surrender, her eyes cautious and wide. But she’s there. 

“No,” he says, his voice cracking around his disbelief.

She’s there she’s there she’s there, his heart thuds, and nothing is taking her away. She takes another tentative step forward and his focus is on her lips as she utters two simple words. “Hi, Aaron.”

His gun slips out of his grasp and onto the mattress with a dull thud. “This is a dream,” he says, even as his body responds with familiar relief to her presence. “A cruel dream. I’m going to wake up and you’ll be gone, like every time before.”

“No,” she whispers. “I’m right here.”

He’s drinking in every inch of her when suddenly she’s in his arms and he’s breathing her in and nothing, nothing, has ever felt better than this. His hands are framing her face, her breath fanning out against his cheek. “How?” he manages.

“I still had your spare key.”

It’s not the question he was asking, but he doesn’t mind. There will be time for the others later—you killed him, didn’t you and who else knows and how did you know we’d be back today. There will be a later and that is all that matters.

“I couldn’t bring myself to change the locks,” he admits eventually. “Even after you started missing your check-ins, I just had this feeling that you weren’t gone for good. That I’d see you again. And I was right,” he bites out victoriously.

She gives him a watery smile, shaky fingers resting against his jaw. “And you were right.”

“Emily,” he says, like it’s the only thing that matters. “Emily,” he repeats like a prayer, pressing his forehead against hers.

“Aaron,” she breathes.

Leaning forward, he captures her lips in a kiss. “I love you,” he whispers against her mouth, and he’s shocked to find they’ve sunken to the floor. There are tears on his cheeks and he can’t tell if they’re hers or his own. “I told myself I wouldn’t pass up the chance to tell you, if that chance ever came again.��

He kisses her again, then pulls back to gaze at her fully. He is bursting at the seams with questions and he knows the months ahead will be anything but simple but he doesn’t care, because suddenly she smiles and his heart leaps at the sight.

“I love you, too.”

[thehuntss]

TRY ME

The day Emily pushed the limits too far by risking her life on a case and Aaron struggled to keep his legendary calm.

•

Hi guys !

Just a wee hotchniss shot to start the week, enjoy :)

No warnings.

She didn’t see it coming. It came too fast and it was too dark around her. She was paired with Derek, everything was going fine and they were about to arrest the killer. But when Derek ran out of bullets, she couldn’t wait for him to refill his Glock and went straight after the man, who raped and filmed his victimes before killing them, showing the tapes to his next victims.

Around a corner, she checked everything but the second she turned out, he had jumped on her, slapping her in the face so violently she saw stars for seconds. She could hear Morgan yelling in her ear, just like Aaron.

“Prentiss! God damn it ! Wait for backup!”

She felt the knife penetrating her arm, and she tried her best to muffle a painful moan. Then she heard the gunfire shot. And the dead body of Paul Logan crushed her on the ground like a carpet. Derek, who basically saved her ass, appeared in a halo like Holy Jesus.

“What the fuck Emily ?!” He groaned next to her, pulling the corpse away from her. “Couldn’t you wait for me ? You almost got killed. Hotch is furious…”

Morgan was blank and staring at her, helping her up. She didn’t look that traumatised, but he wasn’t sure she would be the same once Hotch would arrive.

Speaking of the devil.

She could see the way his jaw clenched, his eyes darker than usual. He was also blank but she could notice how angry he was, and she immediately felt bad. Bitting her bottom lip, Emily didn’t look at him first, wanting the ground to open and swallow her. She left her thoughts when his hand reached her chin, lifting it up so he could catch her eyes. Aaron silently examined her face, then her arm and turned away, fist clenched that strong they turned white.

In the plane he didn’t talk to her either, didn’t even check if her arm was ok, didn’t bother to ask what the medics had said about it. Nothing. He didn’t even look at her and Emily knew the night was going to be hard. Back in the Quantico’s bullpen, she thad tried her best to keep quiet, even though his behaviour was starting to irritate her.

“Let’s go home.”

He didn’t stop, making his way to the elevator without waiting or asking to carry her stuff as usual. Even if she always refused his help, today she maybe would have considered the offer. But it didn’t happen. The drive home was silent and she was bitting on her nails, feeling dizzy because of the longing pain in her arm.

“How long are you going to ignore me ?”

She couldn’t handle it anymore. She knew her husband and she really was in trouble. He stayed quiet until they finally got home, closing their door. And only once his coat had been hanged he faced her, pinching the bridge of his nose, eyes closed.

“Do you realise what you’ve just done Emily ?”

That was just a whisper. And she could hear all the anger and disappointment in his voice, but also the fear. The fear of loosing her. He had told her millions times, he couldn’t handle her loss, just like she wouldn’t.

He opened his eyes to look at her, and she saw the darkness. They were filled with angst, but also some lust. He wanted to make sure she was alive, she knew it. But they couldn’t just fuck like nothing had happened. That wouldn’t solve their problems and they had this weird way to fix everything with sex. But not tonight.

“You were lucky. You could be dead, imagine if he had cut your carotide ?”

He was mad. She swallowed hard but didn’t stop looking at him.

“He didn’t.”

He did it again, pinching his nose and suddenly he slammed his fists against the wall, sending a shiver down her spine. “Jesus Christ Emily! You’re a federal agent, not a trainee. You acted like one, you disobeyed a superior order and you put everyone in danger. When I say stay paired with your partner, I mean: stay together. Am I clear enough ?”

His ton was polar and even though she knew she’d committed a mistake, she didn’t like the way he was talking to her.

“Am I clear, Agent Prentiss ?” He asked a second time, this time louder than the first one.

“Yes. Yes agent Hotchner, loud and clear.” She finally answered, annoyed, rolling her eyes and making her way toward the stairs. She didn’t want to debate, not here, not right now, not after a week away from their heaven place.

But Aaron didn’t want it to end this way and grabbed her good wrist with strength. Except his arm, he didn’t even move, this bastard. She felt even more humiliated. “Don’t roll your eyes at me.”

“Let go of me.”

“No, we need to talk. I want to know why you did not wait for Morgan. And what the hell were you thinking when you just ran to your death. If you didn’t think I would be devastated by your death, did you even think of the kids ?”

He was still holding her and she knew she could do everything, he wouldn’t flinch. “I said, that I’m sorry, now let go of me Hotch, don’t force me to do something I don’t want. And I don’t want you to say I did it selfishly without thinking of you or the kids, I did it for the case because we had to stop this bastard!”

“Don’t force me either Em…” he was intimidating, almost threatening, and she tried her best to erase some flashbacks. She was thinking how much he loved her, that he had never hurt her and would never. Even when the anger was unbearable. He had never used his strength against her, not unless she was begging for it in their intimate times. “Now, talk to me.”

“Let go of me, now. Got it ?” She spitted, trying to free herself. It felt so humiliating, he was still not moving, holding her with so much ease.

But he didn’t move. Their eyes crossed each others and in a second their lips crashed into another. There was no love, no feeling, just desire and lust. He made sure not to hurt her more, and in one swift move her back was banging loud onto their entrance wall.

“Let go of me.” She begged this time.

She knew how it would end but she couldn’t stop being mad at him, just like he couldn’t. His stare, god, she was frightened but couldn’t let him know. She tried to free herself one more time and he let her go, stepping back.

“Em….I’m not trying to boss you. But I think you didn’t realise the danger, you didn’t realise how scared I was. I can’t lose you, not today, not ever.”

He broke into a sob. All the anger she felt disappeared in a second, she had never seen him break down this way, he was always so strong, this wasn’t their first fight. But he’d never broke. And she felt her heart breaks into pieces into her chest.

“Aaron.”

He didn’t move. He looked devastated, tears slowly running dow his cheeks, the whole world he was always carrying on his shoulders was gone. She felt the urge of protecting him at all costs, and she realised how stupid she had acted. The thought of leaving him and the kids alone and breaking his heart again suddenly appeared in her mind. Fuck.

“Honey, look at me. Please.”

It was a pleading, her voice ringing like a sweet music ringing to his ears. He looked at her and she threw herself into his strong arms. She was sorry, but the words were stuck in her throat. He didn’t need to hear them, he knew. Aaron buried his face into her hair.

“I thought I had lost you forever. I saw myself in front of your grave.”

It appeared crystal clear to her, he was relieving her funeral, but this time knowing she was really dead. Leaving him alone with kids at charge, for the second time of his life. Emily felt like shit, finally realising her fiery action made her husband relieve the worst times of his already so bruised life. “I’m so sorry Aaron…”

She gently pressed her forehead against his, both of their eyes closed, and then kissed him slowly, letting him know how sorry she was and how much she loved him. “Don’t ever think I would ever let you or the kids down. I’m never been as happy as I am now, since we got together. I can’t imagine my life otherwise. And if I have to die, I don’t want it to happen on a case. Believe me when I say it sucks a lot dying on the floor, especially when it’s cold out there.”

He let out a shy smile, sipping off the tears off his eyes. “You did not just made a joke about your first death huh?”

Emily winked at him, giving him this outrageous look. “No I didn’t, it’s all in your mind honey.””

“You’re the worst.”

“But you love me.”

He smiled, guiding her to the living room. “I do, and I will, now and for the rest of our lives.”

At this very moment she thought she couldn’t have hoped for a better husband, he was all she ever needed, the most perfect man a woman could expect in her life. “Honey?”

“Yes ?” He simply answered, apparently searching something in the kitchen. He came back seconds later with a glass of water and some painkillers in his hands. She looked at him with wide eyes, but inside of her Emily knew she shouldn’t be that surprised, he had always been very thoughtful and he knew her more than herself.

“How did…you…”

“Figured that you might need pain-meds at some point ?” He finished for her, addressing her a small wink. She slowly nodded, looking at him. “Because as strong as you are and wants to look, I know you, I know pain can be hard to handle, and I also spoke with the EMT.”

She should have known that, even mad at her he could never stop caring about her. “Thank you. I love you.”

“Love you too sweetheart.” Giving her the water and meds, kissing her forehead. “Take this and then we’ll go get a shower, change your bandages and maybe get something to eat.”

She couldn’t help but smiled. “You’re so bossy, Agent Hotchner.”