#hotchniss smut

[sunlightgalaxy]

heating up in here

hotchniss alaska au

warnings: smut, case talk, the usual

a/n: this got looooong oops ! for the sake of the story we’re pretending they weren’t matchy matchy and that she is in fact wearing his sweater

(gifs by @aaronwhorechner )

**

“i’m not sleeping with reid.”

emily stifled a laugh, watching as penelope instantly claimed dibs on sharing with morgan.

“come on, spence, we can share.” jj spoke, placing an arm around the young agent to turn him towards the stairs. and then there were three.

rossi wordlessly looked between emily and aaron before sticking his hand out for a key. 4 rooms, 7 people; the math wasn’t hard, there was one single room. and dave knew he had it to himself.

“guess it’s you and me tonight,” hotch said, picking up his bag and making his way towards the room. emily followed in tow, doing her best to keep up.

“you think they have heat?” she asked as she trailed behind, arms rubbing against herself as best she could to keep warm. emily was a cold woman. not emotionally, well, not anymore, but physically cold almost all of the time. needless to say, she was not doing too well in the alaskan weather.

“let’s hope,” hotch said, stopping at the hotel room door. he unlocked the lock, taking a little longer than emily pleased.

“what, did you forget how to open a door?” she teased.

“it’s an old hotel, prentiss,” hotch sighed, finally pushing the door open. “the lock probably hasn’t been changed in decades.” he walked in, flicking on the light and stopping in his tracks. which, naturally, caused emily to walk straight into his backside.

“ow, hotch!” emily yelped, her hand reaching for his shoulder to steady herself. she was about to ask why the hell he stopped walking two steps into the room when she noticed what caught his attention: the lone, king-sized bed in the middle of the room.

“you can have it,” hotch said, moving in further and digging clothes out of his go-bag. “you get cold.” emily rolled her eyes, grabbing her own pajamas from her bag.

“don’t be stupid, there’s no couch and you’ll kill your back laying on the floor every night.” she reasoned, watching him make his way to the bathroom. “we’re adults, we’ll be fine.”

“yeah,” she heard hotch call as he shut the door. emily dug through her go-bag, grabbing her pajamas and groaning. the case had been called in hours after they returned from their previous one, meaning she hadn’t had time to properly pack her bag. which meant she had no sweatshirt. sighing, she threw on her sweats and t-shirt and waited for hotch to be done in the bathroom.

he walked out moments later, breath catching in his throat when he caught sight of emily. his eyes flitted down to her chest, nipples visible through the fabric of her shirt. clearing his throat, he looked back up at her and spoke. “no sweatshirt?”

“forgot to pack one,” she mumbled, walking into the bathroom and closing the door. splashing water onto her face, emily sighed as she resigned herself to sharing a bed with her boss. her very attractive boss, no less.

stepping out, her eyes landed on hotch, sitting in bed looking over the case file. he looked up, eyes meeting hers momentarily before reaching behind him. “here,” he said, tossing his brown quarter-zip sweater towards her. “it’ll keep you warm tonight.”

emily smiled gratefully, pulling on the warm fabric and watching it pool around her arms. “thank you,” she mumbled softly, climbing into the bed next to him. “goodnight hotch.”

“goodnight prentiss,” hotch replied, taking a moment to look at her before shutting the light off. god, she looked so good in his sweater. he laid there for a moment, the darkness and silence of the room really putting into perspective his situation. he was sharing a bed with his subordinate, arguably his most attractive one, in the middle of alaska. truly not how hotch had expected his day to end.

emily, meanwhile, had the same thought about her boss looming in the back of her mind. however, she couldn’t bear to focus on that, instead channeling all of her energy into not shivering. as warm as hotch’s sweater was - and fuck, it was warm - she was still freezing. arms wrapped around herself, doing her best to not hog the covers, emily tried her hardest to keep warm and still.

it was no use though, hotch could feel her body twitching every so often. plus, her teeth were chattering so frequently that he thought they would chip. he debated for a moment whether he should sacrifice his own warmth and give her the blanket, or cross the line and give her his embrace. and as much as he wanted to just give her the blanket, he didn’t want to be cold either.

she felt the bed dip first, feeling hotch roll to his other side. then, she felt the warmth encapsulate her body as his arm wrapped against her. finally, she felt his body directly against her back as he pulled her flush to him. oh. she was definitely warm now. their close proximity meant that when he whispered to her, his words went straight to her ear, hot breath tickling her skin. “think you can sleep now?”

no. absolutely not. “yeah,” she whispered back, making a feeble attempt to relax her body and find a comfortable position. instead, however, she found her ass pressed directly against him. she was sure her skin was fucking boiling at this point, cursing herself internally for even moving half an inch. she felt hotch breathing heavily against her, and all she could do was pray he was asleep and close her eyes.

he was not asleep, instead focusing everything on trying not to get rock hard against emily’s ass. unfortunately for hotch, no amount of steady breathing could stop his dick from growing harder. feeling the sudden warmth on her ass, emily smirked to herself. “think you’ll be able to sleep now?” she whispered, stifling a giggle.

“emily,” hotch groaned, his tone somewhere between a moan and a warning. keeping her lower body in place, she turned her head around to meet hotch’s eyes. the smirk fell from her face when she was met with nothing but lust from the man in front of her. gasping, she felt hotch’s hand wrap around her waist, snaking its way up bottom of the sweater.

“aaron,” she whispered, a moan catching in her throat. her free arm wrapped around his neck, fingers tangling in his hair as she pulled him closer. she could feel his breath on her lips, inches away from making contact with her own.

and that’s when they heard a scream.

***

“his name’s craig ramey. fisherman.”

the team gathered around the latest victim, all clad in their pajamas and jackets. as the discussion about the unsub’s accelerated schedule picked up, emily’s attention only strayed further. she could practically feel hotch’s eyes boring into her cheek, and if she was still enough, she could almost feel his breath on her skin.

aaron was doing all he could to maintain his professional manner in this moment, but all thoughts led him back to emily. he forced his eyes on the victim in front, around the team, at the cops, but they always found their way back to her.

“it’s still late,” hotch spoke suddenly, clearing his voice. “i’m sure none of us got much sleep, why don’t we all take a couple hours to rest and get ready for the morning?” it wasn’t a question, and he knew there wouldn’t be any rest in his room.

the team trickled apart, each making their way back to their respective rooms. emily stopped at hers, waiting for aaron to make his way from back of the group. he opened the door, and when emily stepped inside it was only a matter of seconds before the door was locked and she was pressed against it.

“aaron,” she gasped, arms wrapping around his neck to stabilize herself. he looked into her eyes, pupils blow.

“what, sweetheart?” he asked, voice about a whisper.

“kiss me.”

and kiss her he did. lips against each other, breathy moans traveling from emily’s throat to aaron’s mouth. she could feel his stubble against her face, turning her on more than she already was. his hips pushed towards her, causing emily to gasp when she felt his cock press against her pulsing core. aaron pulled back, lips beginning to nip along her neck. one hand braced her hip against the wall, the other finding its way through her layers of clothing.

“look so fucking good in my sweater, baby,” he muttered, eliciting a moan from emily as he twisted her nipple. “gonna fuck you so good while you wear it.”

“aaron,” she whined, his name apparently being the only word her brain could form. she released one hand from his hair, bringing it down to fumble with his jeans. before she could even get them unbuttoned, however, he was pressing his hips forward, cock straining against her hand. “fuck,” she groaned. “need you so badly.”

“is that so?” he asked, emily practically feeling the smirk radiating off of him. “take me then.”

she didn’t need to be told twice. she had his pants and boxers dropped in seconds. eyes blowing wide at the size of his cock. emily sunk to her knees, taking her time to work him with her hand. “emily,” hotch moaned, almost as if it was a warning. it was then she wrapped her lips around him, moaning at the string of curses he muttered while she swirled her tongue around his tip. inch by inch, she took him in her mouth, jaw aching from the size of him. she bobbed back and forth, increasing speed ever so slowly and wrapping a hand around what couldn’t fit.

hotch looked down, pupils blown at the sight of emily beneath him. he let out a groan, even more turned on when he felt her gag around him. they locked eyes, emily watching his expressions as she moved back and forth. it became too much, then, hotch tapping her cheek twice as a sign to release.

“too good at that,” he murmured, thumb wiping away the stray tears that fell from her eyes. “would’ve cum if you kept going, and i’m saving that for when i’m inside you.”

it was emily’s turn to groan, which no sooner turned into a squeal as hotch swept her off her feet and placed her on the bed. true to his word, he removed all her clothing, save for his sweater. taking of the remnants of his clothes, aaron climbed on top of her and pressed two fingers to her lips. instinctively, she opened her mouth, sucking the digits nicely until he pulled back.

within seconds those same fingers delved into her wet, soaking cunt. emily moaned, to which aaron placed his free hand on top of her mouth. “can’t have you being too loud, can we?” she shook her head, mouth opening and closing against his palm as aaron’s pace picked up.

“aaron, oh my god,” emily whispered, nearly biting his palm to keep from screaming. he smiled, planing a kiss to her head as he added a third finger inside her. she groaned, head pushing away from his hand and dropping to his shoulder. “fuck, aaron, please,” she whined, feeling herself getting closer to the edge.

“come for me, baby,” he muttered in her ear, groaning softly as he felt her tip over the edge. “good girl, so good for me.” he fucked her through her orgasm until it was too much, emily removing his hand and panting into his chest.

“holy fuck,” she breathed, slowly catching her breath. she looked up at hotch, meeting his soft smile with one of her own.

“you okay?” he asked.

“yeah,” she said. “so okay.”

“good.” he didn’t waste a second before pushing her back onto the bed, spreading her legs as he followed and lined up inside her. she gasped, locking eyes with him.

“please,” she whispered, staring at his hard, leaking cock at the edge of her equally soaked cunt.

“oh god, emily,” he moaned, watching his dick disappear under his sweater and into her pussy. “so fucking tight, so fucking good.”

“aaron,” emily whine, relishing in how good the pain was as his dick stretched out her cunt. she didn’t even want time to adjust to his size, she needed him to fuck her. “move.”

he wasted no time, fucking her with a rapid pace. “oh, emily,” he moaned, a string of curses following under his breath. emily groaned at the sensation, his tip hitting her perfectly. aaron looked up and felt himself getting closer as he watched emily, her mouth agape as she bit back a whimper. “so good for me,” he said, leaning down to capture her lips in a kiss. “i’m so close.”

“inside,” she responded, no hesitation. “please.”

“of course,” he whispered, picking up the pace and moving impossibly faster. he felt emily’s orgasm before she did, her moans combined with the clenching around his cock pulling his own. he spilt into her, stilling as they came down from their high.

he pulled out, laying down next to emily and turning to look at her. she turned to him, a soft smile on her face that matched his. “what?” she asked.

“you’re beautiful,” he responded, pushing her grown-out bangs out of her face. “pretty girl.” she blushed as he planted a kiss to her cheek, pulling her into his arms.

“you’re not so bad yourself,” she spoke, her voice muffled against his chest. “can i keep the sweater?” she asked a moment later, feeling his chest vibrate with laughter.

“for the rest of the trip, sure.” he said. “i have others i can wear. but i want it back, that’s my favorite one.”

“yeah,” emily sighed. “me too.”

[ssaemilyhotchner]

Z please? Congratulations! 🎉

tysm for participating, @emilyhotchner! ✨

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

letter: Z | prompt: ZZZs | wc: 0.5k cw: 18+, sexual content a/n: there's no excuse for how dirty this is oops

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

--

Not for the first time, Hotch watches as she sleeps.

In her slumber, Emily stirs and murmurs his name, the lusty sound sending heat through his body to settle at the base of his spine. Hotch wraps his arm around her and presses his lips to her shoulder in instinct, ink black hair tickling his face as he breathes her in deeply.

Her eyes slowly flutter open at the contact. “Hi,” she whispers.

“Hi, sweetheart.”

“What are you still doing up?”

Hotch rubs lazy circles on the smooth skin of her stomach with his thumb, the thin streaks of moonlight trickling into the room enough for him to see her muscles quiver and flex at his touch. “Watching you.”

Emily lets her eyes fall closed again, then sighs contentedly when she burrows deeper into his embrace and feels him half-hard against her lower back. “Feels like you want to do more than just watch.”

He chuckles. “No, I want to let you sleep,” he returns, though his twitch at the thought of being buried inside her again gives him away. 

“Mmm. I’d believe you if it weren’t for your track record,” she teases. “You’ve always liked waking me up for sex.”

“You’re just so pliable when you’re sleepy.” He can’t help it: he relishes the way her body moves when they are together, how relaxed she is with him in the dead of night. Hotch trails his fingers up her thighs and groans at his discovery. “Jesus, Em, you’re soaked. Having a good dream?”

Emily rewards him with a pleased shudder, instinctively rocking against his fingers. “Very much so.”

With a murmured is this okay and her resulting eager nod, he presses into her from behind, grinning against the nape of her neck as she chokes out a little gasp in response. “Tell me about it?” 

“You were fucking me after some Bureau event,” she manages eventually, his slow rocking rhythm already taking her apart. “Hiked my dress up over my knees and got me off with that brilliant mouth of yours. You were still fully dressed in your suit when I came.” 

Hotch replies with a rumble of approval, running his fingers through her hair. “Did you take it off of me?” 

“No.” Her hand finds his between her legs, a wordless request for more pressure that he readily obeys.

“No?” he whispers, his breath hot against her ear.

“You wanted to fuck me with it on. So that every time I saw you in it, I’d remember.” His rhythm stutters at her words and her back bows, hips bucking as his thrusts begin to deepen. “God, don't stop—”

“You were right. That was a very good dream.” Hotch crooks his fingers just so then, and buries his face in the juncture of her shoulder as she flies apart. He follows shortly afterward, spilling into her with a groan of her name drawn out like a prayer.

They’ve cleaned up and resettled when Emily lets out a pleased hum, sated and sleepy.

“This was even better, though.”

[cloudlessly-light]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[sequinsmile-x]

Cotton

They lose themselves in each other. Soft sighs and touches that make her feel delicate, but not in a way that makes her feel weak, but strong. Like she’s made of the most precious strands of thread all tied together just for him to unravel.

AKA - Aaron and Emily's first time

-x-

Hi friends,

This is a birthday fic for the lovely @cloudlessly-light <3 I hope you had a wonderful day and I love you very much!!

It's been a hot minute since I wrote some smut and it never gets any less nerve-wracking to write for some reason.

As always, let me know what you think!

-x-

Words: 3.6k

Warnings: 18+, Smut

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

She laughs as they step into his apartment. His hands on her hips as he steadies her when she almost slips, the rainwater from the downpour they’d been caught in dripping down onto the hardwood floor. 

“I should have checked the weather forecast,” he mumbles, closing the door behind them, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment as he helps her out of her soaked through coat, “I’m sorry. That wasn’t exactly the romantic walk I had in mind.” 

It had only been six weeks. Six amazing weeks since she’d first leant forward and kissed him, bored of waiting for him to make the first move, the knowledge that they’d already wasted so much time pushing her forward until her lips met his. They’d been on as many dates as they could, ranging from nights curled up on either his couch or hers as they watched a movie, or going out for dinner like they had tonight. Both of them sat on the same side of the table, hands linked in front of them as they exchanged kisses and conversation as if things had always been this way. 

He’d chosen the restaurant. A French place within walking distance of his apartment building. She’d arrived at his, go-bag tucked away in the trunk of her car in case this turned into a sleepover, and they’d walked there hand in hand, enjoying the cool autumn air around them as they went. At some point during the meal it had started to rain. A light drizzle that she insisted they’d be fine walking in when he suggested they get a cab to his place. About halfway back the heavens had opened, a heavy downpour taking them both by surprise as she’d stopped to kiss him on a street corner. They’d half-run the rest of the way, their hands still clasped tightly as they held onto each other, laughing as if they were in some kind of movie, a type of peace Emily liked to think they’d both earned. 

She smiles and cups his cheek, tasting the rainwater against his lips when she kisses him, “Don’t apologise,” she kisses him again, unable to stop the shiver that passes through her, “Getting caught in the rain like that is very romantic,” she smiles and kisses him one last time before she pulls back, “Very old Hollywood.” 

Aaron chuckles, something about her presence soothing him. He’s distracted as a drop of cold water runs down his back, and she watches her shiver too, “What isn’t romantic is catching a cold because of the rain,” he says, squeezing her hand before he guides her further into the apartment, “You can have the bathroom first,” he clears his throat, embarrassment he hadn’t felt since he was a teenager climbing up it, “I’ll find you something to change into.” 

She presses her lips together in an attempt to suppress her smile, never wanting him to think she was making fun of him. They’d mutually agreed, without really having to say anything, that they’d wait to have sex until they were both ready, not going beyond making out and wondering hands as they ignored whatever movie they were pretending to watch. He’d only ever been with Haley. And neither of them had been with anyone since they were torn apart by their respective monsters, the landscapes of their bodies forever changed and scarred by the anger of two dead men. 

She’d come to terms with the changes to her body, could mostly ignore the phantom ache in her abdomen these days, and she’d bought new lingerie for tonight just in case it was the night. The dark red lace of it was sticking to her skin, painted down by the heavy rain they’d been caught in, and she grimaces at the sensation. 

When she steps into his bathroom she groans at the sight of herself in the mirror. Her carefully applied makeup had run down her face, and her once-curled hair now flat and stuck to her skin. She does her best to take off her make up without her usual products, and she’s just about finished drying most of the excess water out of her hair with a towel he’d passed her on her way in when she hears a gentle knock on the door. 

“I’ve left something for you to wear out here,” he says, his voice slightly muffled by the wood, “I was thinking of making some hot chocolate to warm us up.” 

She smiles, not feeling the need to hide it now she is alone, and she feels her cheeks warm up with affection for him, “That sounds nice,” she replies, “I wouldn’t be against you spiking it with something.” 

“Whatever you want, sweetheart.” 

The nickname makes a shiver run through her that has nothing to do with her damp clothes still sticking to her skin, her blood fizzing in her veins as she shakes her head at herself. She opens the bathroom door and grabs the clothes he’d left for her, smiling at the sight of a pair of grey sweatpants and an old, worn FBI t-shirt. She slips off her dress and the lingerie, hiding them under the damp black dress as she leaves them in the corner of his bathroom, leaving the thought of how she’d get them home until later, and she changes into his clothes. She rolls the waistband of the sweatpants so they fit a little better, and slips on his t-shirt, taking a moment to smell the material, the scent of him washing over her. 

She steps out of the bathroom and seeks him out, spotting his damp suit hanging over the back of a chair in the corner of his bedroom as she goes. She feels a spark in her belly when she finds him in his kitchen wearing a matching outfit to hers - the sweatpants and t-shirt more formfitting than the way they almost drowned her frame - and she clears her throat, taking some pride in the way he looks at her. An unmistakable flash of desire in his eyes that makes her feel powerful, and she can’t help but wonder how he’d look at her if he’d seen her in the lingerie hidden away in his bathroom. 

“You look nice,” he says, cursing himself for the way it sounds as he says it and he clears his throat, going back to his task of making the hot chocolates. She takes pity on him and walks over, wrapping her arms around his back and resting her cheek on his shoulder.

“You too,” she says, kissing his shoulder through his shirt, “I like seeing you in casual clothes.” 

He places his hand over hers on his abdomen, squeezing their fingers together as he replies, “I like seeing you in my clothes.” 

She shifts so they are looking at each other and she sees everything she’s feeling, love, affection and a sense of finally, shining back at her when their eyes meet. She leans in and kisses him, smiling into it when he places his hand on her waist. “Come on,” she says, stamping a kiss against his lips again, “Let’s go drink our hot chocolates.” 

They settle on the couch, curled up together under a blanket he pulls over them. She snuggles as close to him as she can, ducking under the arm he wraps around her and seeking out the warmth that seems to flow off of him like a cologne. Another thing to draw her in towards him as if she needs another excuse. 

“How are you still so warm?” She grumbles jokingly, taking a sip from her hot chocolate, and the sweetness of it and the pleasant burn of the scotch he’d added makes her sigh contentedly. “It’s like you’re a human radiator.” 

“It’s all a tactic to make you sit as close to me as possible,” he says wryly, smiling at her as she rolls her eyes at him. 

“Well,” she says, resting her head on his chest, “Now I know why you conveniently forgot to check the weather.” 

He chuckles and presses a kiss to the top of her head, “Damn it, you’ve caught me out.” 

She laughs and takes another sip of her hot chocolate, happy and content as she lets herself get wrapped up in the warmth of him and the sweet drink. Once they’ve finished he takes her mug from her, unwrapping himself from around her as he leans forward to place them on the coffee table. As soon as he’s settled again she slips into his lap, her arms around his neck as she leans in to kiss him, chasing the last of the chocolate on his tongue. 

They lose themselves in each other. Soft sighs and touches that make her feel delicate, but not in a way that makes her feel weak, but strong. Like she’s made of the most precious strands of thread all tied together just for him to unravel. She moans when his hand slips beneath her shirt, his shirt, and she tightens her grip on him, her fingers digging into his hair, blunt nails scratching at his scalp. She shifts so she’s straddling him, her knees on either side of his hips and his groan rumbles from his chest into hers, his hands more insistent on her back, the callouses of his fingers drawing shivers from her as he chases the goose pimples he’s created. 

It’s only when she rolls her hips against his, an instinctual thing she couldn’t have stopped if she’d wanted to, when he stops her. His hand’s shifting to her hips, his touch gentle as he squeezes. 

“Em-”

“I’m sure,” she says, answering the question she knows is on the tip of his tongue, the one she can see in his eyes, “As long as you are.” 

He presses his forehead against hers, “Emily…I…” 

“If you’re not ready I understand,” she says, pulling back to look at him, running her fingers through his hair, hoping he can’t see the pre-emptive disappointment in her eyes. 

“It’s not that,” he swallows thickly, his cheeks burning with embarrassment as he averts his gaze, “I just don’t want to disappoint you.” 

It makes her smile, his uncharacteristic shyness making something she knew she couldn’t bring herself to call love yet start to simmer in her gut, “That’s not possible,” she says, leaning forward to kiss him again, “You could never disappoint me.” 

He nods, pulling her closer, something about her, about the naked honesty in her eyes, that makes his nerves die down, “Bedroom.” 

She beams at him, leaning in to kiss him, firm and full of intent before she scrambles off his lap, her hand reaching out for his as he stands too, “Bedroom.” 

By the time they make it to his bedroom, his shyness is all but gone, the image of her in his clothes and the way she’s smiling at him enough to stoke out its flames. He turns her in his arms and holds her close as he leans down to kiss her, his hands on her cheeks as he encourages her backwards until the back of her knees hit the bed. He smiles as he pulls back, her hands on his wrists as he continues to cup her cheeks, their smiles soft as he leans back in, the kiss firmer this time but no less tender. She’s grateful that they’d discussed the practicalities a few weeks ago, his smile shy as it made him look impossibly young when he asked if he needed to buy supplies for when they were ready. She’d felt just as shy when she’d replied that she had it covered, the little packet of pills in her medicine cabinet proving their worth beyond just regulating her cycle. 

She drops her hands down to his waist, her fingers tangling in the thin material of his shirt, and she encourages it upwards, her touch soft as it grazes his sides. She feels him hesitate when her fingers graze a line of thicker skin and she pulls back, her eyes meeting his as she silently asks him if it’s okay to continue and he nods. She pulls his shirt off, helped along by him letting go of her just long enough to do so, and she doesn’t take her eyes off of him as she lets the t-shirt flutter to the floor. His scars are more healed than hers are, lines of silver painted across his skin, like cracks in a statute, only adding to his beauty as he looks him up and down. 

“I know they’re not-”

“No,” she says, cutting off his self-deprecation as she traces a finger over the one highest on his chest, smiling softly as he shivers at a sensation she knew all too well, “They’re made of you,” she says, smiling at him as she cups his cheek and drags him in for a kiss, “You’re beautiful.” 

He kisses her in response because that’s all he can do, all the words he wants to say caught in his chest because it somehow feels too early and too late to say any of them, love for her he’s hidden even from himself lingering just beneath the surface. They drop to the bed as one, and he’s careful to make sure he doesn’t crush her, one of his hands next to her as he settles over her, one of his knees wedged between hers. His nose bumps against hers as he tugs gently at the hem of her shirt, and she nods, her teeth sinking into her lower lip as she closes her eyes. The cool air of the room makes her suck in a breath as she arches her back so he can pull the thin cotton away. She waits, her eyes still screwed closed as she waits for him to move, to do something as her scars tingle, a phantom pain that never quite went away. 

She gasps when he leans in to kiss the brand on her breast, his lips warm against the partially numb skin. It’s tender, soft and loving and the complete opposite of the moment of violence that had left it there. She feels like she’s burning again but instead of the smell of her flesh on the air or the feel of Ian’s breath on her neck, all she is aware of is Aaron. She gasps out his name, her hands looping around his neck as she holds him in place, wanting to feel like this for every moment of her life. 

“Beautiful,” he mutters, the word pressed against her skin as he shifts downwards, her eyes drifting open as he kisses the starburst of scar tissue beneath her rib cage, his lips and tongue tracing the constellations left behind. Her breath catches in her chest when he makes it to the waistband of his sweatpants and he groans, his forehead against her stomach before he looks up at her, “I really love seeing you in my clothes.” 

She chuckles breathlessly, reaching down to run her fingers through his hair, “You should see the lingerie I was wearing before we got soaked through in the rain. Much sexier.” she giggles when his eyes go wide, a sound that turns into a moan when he kisses her low on her belly, “Next time.” 

He nods, “Next time.” 

It makes her smile when he looks for confirmation that she’s okay to carry on, as if they weren’t half naked and lying together on his bed. She nods as he hooks his fingers in the waistband of the sweatpants she’s wearing. Her breath catches in her chest when he grazes his palms over her thighs before he leans back over her, his lips catching hers as she turns her head to chase his kiss, desperate to have him as close as possible. She gasps, her breath skipping across his face, when he drags his fingers through her, his thumb catching on her clit as she presses her forehead against his. 

“Please,” she gasps out, even though he hasn’t stopped, his touch soft and slightly hesitant as he chases her gasps and moans, paying close attention to what draws the sounds from her. He holds her close, his other than on her waist and his forehead still against hers as he watches her. His gaze unrelenting as she tips over the edge, her grip on his arm tight as she sucks in a breath, every one of her nerve endings on fire. She pulls him in for a kiss, her fingers tangled in his hair and she’s still gasping for breath when she pulls back, her chest heaving with it as she chokes out a half-demand, “Take off your pants.” 

When he stands up to do just that she’d bereft, the air around her cold as he takes the warmth with him for the few moments it takes him to take off his sweatpants. Then he’s back, settling between her thighs as she spreads them, and he’s lying over her, his hands reaching for hers, their fingers tangling as he rests them near her head. When he pushes forward they both groan at the stretch, his forehead dropping to her collarbone, his lips catching the skin nearby as he stills, giving her time to adjust. 

There was a time, years ago now, when she thought they’d give into this in entirely different circumstances, be it in anger or desperation, and that they’d have a quick fuck in his office or a hotel room in a nameless town. As time went on, she’d hoped for something like this, something soft and tender, no matter how naive it may have felt. A vulnerability that came with it that sex had lost for her long ago, if it had ever had it at all. It leaves her feeling stripped bare, more naked than her literal nakedness, and instead of it making her want to panic and run, she finds herself relaxing into it, into him, and she finds herself grateful that they’d waited all this time. None of it felt wasted anymore, every little step they’d taken towards this worth it if it meant she was right here, right now with him. 

She pushes her hips against his, his name and a series of words begging him to move stuck in her chest as he starts to do just that, a rhythm they find easily as if they’d been doing this for years. As if they were both coming home after the world's longest journey. She feels herself getting close again, something white hot and addictive unfurling low in her gut as she gasps his name, her hips pressed against his as she holds him tighter, her arms and legs wrapped around him. 

“Aaron…please,” she mutters, “Close.” 

He reaches between them and swipes at her clit, and she’s gone, pulling him over the edge with her, their twin moans of each other's names lost in a kiss she drags him into. They lay there, exchanging soft kisses, both of them swallowing down confessions they were sure the other wasn’t ready for yet, happy and content to sit in the afterglow. 

“I need to go to the bathroom,” she says eventually, smiling when he nods and slips from on top of her, handing her back the shirt she’d been wearing before as he stands up, “Thank you.” 

She goes to the toilet and cleans herself up, and as she slips his shirt back on over her head she looks at herself in the mirror just like she had earlier. Her hair was a mess, partially from air-drying, partially because of Aaron’s hands running through it, and she could see the edge of a hickey on her collarbone peeking out from under his shirt. 

Mostly, she looked happy. Something that, not all that long ago, she would have thought impossible. 

He kisses her as she walks out of the bathroom and he walks into it, a mutter that he’d meet her in bed pressed against her lips. She settles under the covers, sighing contentedly at the smell of him surrounding her, and she waits for him to join her. It takes a few minutes but then he’s walking back out, wearing only his sweatpants, before he settles into bed next to her, tugging her into his arms. 

“I hung up your dress over the side of the shower so it doesn’t crease too badly,” he says, running his fingers up and down her arm as she sinks into his side. She hides a smile against his throat, thinking that she could easily get used to him looking after her in the small ways she’d never had before. 

“Thanks,” she replies, kissing his neck, “Although, I’ll probably need to wash it anyway.” 

He hums and kisses her forehead, “You were right about the lingerie,” he says, smiling when her eyes go wide and she looks up at him, “It is very sexy.” 

She clears her throat, not sure why she feels embarrassed since she’d literally just had sex with him, but she swallows thickly, “Thanks,” she repeats, “I bought it especially.” 

He beams at her, “I’m not sure I’d say it’s sexier than you wearing my clothes though,” he says, smiling when she gasps in fake outrage, “I think you’d have to wear it for me so I could be sure.” 

She smiles and pulls him in for a kiss, her hand on his cheek as she holds him in place, “I’m sure that could be arranged, honey.” 

He leans in to kiss her, his hands on her back as he rolls them so she’s pressed between him and the mattress, and they forget about everything except the two of them. 

[realtime-00]

I wish I could erase every hotchniss fan fiction from my brain just to read them all over again.

[hahahawhatalife]

Calling all Hotchniss Fanfic Writers and Readers: PLEASE HELP ME!

I made an absolute blunder and accidentally unliked a fanfic I was reading on Tumblr then refreshed my page (it might also be on FF or A03).

The premise is basically that Prentiss finds it really attractive when Hotch shouts (which she is SO real for because same). I think it starts with them interviewing a suspect together and goes from there but that's all I can remember 😭

Does anyone know the name of this fic and have a link to it?

Thanks so much in advance! ❤️

(I'm starting to gaslight myself into thinking it was all a dream but I KNOW I'm not creative enough to have come up with something as a good as I remember the fic being)

UPDATE: Thanks to @ssaemprts we've found it! 'To give to you' by Sarmaren! ✨️

[thehuntss]

HIGH FOR THIS 1/2

•

The BAU members are in Phoenix for a case, and get gifted some homemade cookies. Hotch and Prentiss finally share their secret. The team was definitely not ready for this.

•

Hi guys!

I was watching some Grey’s anatomy - the other show to my heart - and got very inspired. So here’s my little remix. And my first smut fic!!!

Let me know what you think about it!

Hope you’ll enjoy <3

xx

There was no way they could’ve been fooled like this. No ways, they were high ranked profilers, they could have seen it coming from planet Venus but they didn’t. And the only ones who weren’t victims from this pathetic joke were the absents, as always.

JJ had to take several mesures and that’s why they were all locked up in the conference room, with their phones and guns taken away. “It’s for your own safety, I can’t do much except saving your dignity. You’ll all stay there until you are sober. See you later.”

The blonde was expecting them to be angry at her, she was ready for them to yell at her and saying she was the worst ever because they had to work but none of that happened. They all stared at her with big wide smile, even Hotch couldn’t hide his, all looking at her with this innocent and kind of stupid sparkle in the eyes.

“You’re so…blonde. Did I ever mentioned that to you ? I mean, like a real blonde, not like Garcia when she makes hair experiences…” Derek told her with all the seriousness possible, while Garcia slowly nodded.

“Yeah, is it natural ? Like, were you born with blonde hair ? You look like an Angel.” Her voice was higher than usually, but none of them seemed to matters. “Are you an Angel JJ?”

“You’re so pretty.” Rossi added, sending her a kiss.

“Guys, listen to me, I’m not an Angel, and you are all high, remember ? I’ll go grab some water, wait here for me. And please don’t do something stupid.” She said, they were giving her the worst headache and she didn’t have a cookie.

She had brought cookies from this police officer’s wife and because she was on a diet she didn’t eat one. Luckily for her. Because 30 minutes later she noticed how weird they were all acting, and not long after the police officer bursted in the conference room, asking her to give back the cookies because his wife had made a mistake. And what a mistake, all the profilers were high on weed and none of them seemed to remember their names.

“I think they are all wrong, you’re the most gorgeous person of this planet sweetheart.”

It had been only a whisper but everyone turned to stare at their boss, who was sitting on the couch, lost in his thoughts but lovingly eyeing Emily. No one knew about their secret relationship, it had been almost a year and they had managed to keep it private. Until today. Only Reid seemed deaf to all the noises around him, staring at the door like if he was counting seconds before JJ’s return.

“What ? The ? Hell ?” Garcia broke the silence, looking in between Bossman and Peaches.

“Are you dating ?” Derek asked, standing up suddenly, his expression blank. He gave Dave a look, and the oldest agent chuckled. “Since when ?”

“Like no one knew. Don’t tell me you guys didn’t see it, it had been almost a year.”

Garcia and Derek blinked twice, unable to know if they were naturally shocked or just under marijuana’s hallucinations. “For real ? How….”

“How are babies made…” Garcia asked him, with a concerned voice, while Emily bursted into laugh, definitely very high too.

“Sex, sex is the cure. And Aaron is very good at sex, he always does this thing with his fingers and then I co….”

“Bella!” David cut her up kind of laughing, while Derek gave the couple a disgusted look.

“Yes we don’t want to know how bossman fucks you.”

“Gross.” Garcia whined, looking horrified when she apparently pictured her boss and her friend making out.

“You’re the one who asked Garcia…” Emily mumbled, standing up to sit back next to Aaron who hadn’t say a word since the start of the discussion. “But if you have to know, sex is great and it’s even better than hacking the CIA to get Prince William’s number.”

She laughed when she saw the redhead cheeks flushing, winking at her. “Yup, I know everything.”

And while Derek was trying to contain his tears from laughing, she silently kissed Aaron cheek. That is not how they had planned on telling them but they didn’t expect either to be drugged with cookies. And that’s the precise moment JJ came back with water bottles.”

“Reid are you in there ?” She snapped her fingers at him but the genius didn’t even move.

“I think…” she started until she saw Derek sniffing at the table. “Hum…reminds me had many cookies you all had ?”

“98…it’s the same number as the last one of Prince Williams phone number.” Penelope replied, still figuring out how Emily knew about the CIA hacking’s attempt.

“Maybe 3, and I still think you’re an Angel blondie.” Derek answered, sniffing this time at the files in from of him.

“I need to pee.” Emily suddenly said, looking at JJ. “Please?”

JJ rolled her eyes but agreed on letting her friend go, and as Emily left walking like a zombie, the blonde tried to convince Derek that sniffing things around him was no sense. That’s maybe why she didn’t notice Hotch sneaking out of the room, and apparently all the other had seen him but no one spoke, too high and too amused.

Emily almost passed out when she opened the cabinet room and saw Aaron standing just at the door, his eyes darker and shining with lust. “You scared the shit outta me honey! Wait..are we in mixt bathroom ? Like it used to be before?”

Aaron pushed her inside and closed the door with his foot, kissing her with passion and fierce, not letting her time to realize what was going on. Apparently drugs had a different effect on him and she would definitely not complain about it. Their kissed turned hungry, their hands being very touchy, and their moans echoing in the room but they didn’t care.

“I want you…” he whispered in between kisses, his voice low and raspy, definitely not the same as usual. And the way she felt his hardness against her tights was definitely the usual same, like every time they would make love like if it was their last time. “I’ve been thinking about this all day…”

“Take off your pants.” She instructed, her hands already unbelting him, slipping in his boxers. He was already hard and she could feel the precum leaking on the top of her fingers. “Fuck me, please Aaron.”

His hands trailed further down her body, helping her take down her pants, cupping her ass and lifting her up so that she could wrap one of her leg around his waist. “Have you been a good girl?” He teased her, kissing her neck and leaving bruises he didn’t care now but would regret later when he would realize they were very visibles.

She gasped for breath, looking at him and burying her hands in his short hair. “I’ve been…but we don’t have time honey…fuck, please…” she begged, feeling warmth grows in between her legs.

Emily licked her lips and leaned forward, pressing open-mouthed kisses to his heated skin. He gasped, his hands trembling slightly as he pushed her panties down her legs. She quickly pumped him, smiling deliciously. “You’re already so hard for me.”

Aaron suddenly had trouble holding back, her hand on his cock making him shiver from head to toes. “You’re so good at this baby.” He kissed her again, his fingers trailing down her collarbone, removing the long dark hair from her face. Emily’s head fell back against the wall with a thud, her eyes fluttering closed.

Drugged or not, Aaron looked forward to feeling her around his cock.

She gave him a better access, slowly moving her hip against his waist, feeling the urge to have him inside of her, he whole body burning of desire for her handsome man. She helped him guide his shaft into her hot center and they both moaned loudly as he filled her up.

“Fuck you feel so good.” He panted to her ear, letting her adjust for a second before moving his hips, loving the sound of his skin slapping against hers. It was taking all his self control not to fuck her senseless and make her come in a minute, knowing too well her sensitive spots.

“Not the…vanilla..sex…” she pleaded him, her hands on his hips, guiding him to move faster. He didn’t get right away what she was saying but seconds later he thrusted quicker into her, silencing her with a heated kiss. Even on their state he was still aware of the situation and he didn’t want the whole police station coming in the damn restroom.

He lost mention of time, slamming his hips against her, burying his face into her neck, his hand replacing his mouth over her lips. Emily knew she wouldn’t be able to hold it longer, feeling her orgasm growing faster inside. Aaron felt her fingers digs into his shoulders, leaving him scratches but he didn’t care, panting and moaning of pleasure. A second later he watched her tensed, her orgasm sending her over the edge.

With a few more thrusts he came as well, spurting his seeds inside her, his legs barely managing to hold them up with the force of his climax. 

When he felt better, Aaron then sank down to the ground, keeping this precious contact with her, kissing her softly, letting them both go down from their climax.

“We should get going sweetheart.” He whispered, lifting his pants up and buckling his belt. She did the same, grimacing when she felt him leak in her panties. “Vanilla sex?” He chuckled.

She shrugged, tilting her head on the side, kissing him one more time. “I just like your savage side.”

When they came back to the conference room they all stared at them, except Reid. JJ rolled her eyes at them and Emily couldn’t help but laugh awkwardly, still high and on her climax.

“Please…” JJ whispered, eyes shut down and pinching the bridge of her nose. “Don’t tell me they were right.”

At the confused look on Aaron and Emily’s faces, Derek added, containing his laugh with very much difficulties. “Lieutenant Bradford came in and told us there were hearing weird noises in the restroom.”

“You can’t possible have done it in a police station.” David said, both of the agents feeling like kids getting caught up by their parents. And at their non answers, Aaron being as embarrassed as Emily was amused, Derek and Garcia bursted in tears, unable to stop while JJ and Dave looked at them with desperation but a bit of amusement.

“You both are two fucking motherf….” Derek managed to say in between laugh, feeling like he was out of breathe.

“You’re all punished of cookies. All of you.” Pointed Dave, forgetting he had some too.

It was too much and they all laughed, including Reid and Hotch.

“I knew you were taking too long for a pee!” Penelope said. “Now you all owe me $20! Waiting for the money pals…” her hands were open and she waited patiently for her friends to open their wallet.

“You did not bet on that Pen?!” Emily couldn’t hold her shock, looking at her with wide eyes.

“Why not, JJ locked us in here I had to find a way to have fun!” She replied, counting the money. “And I was right, count it as a revenge for Prince William!” She winked at her, her laugh contagious as even Aaron smiled. “By the way, nice hickeys Peach.”

“I have to say you weren’t exactly quiet. That was very embarrassing.”

They all turned to Reid who had finally spoke. He didn’t look at his boss and friend, slightly embarrassed, cheeks still reddish. “I’ll never be able to forget this, and it’s going to cause me more nightmares than psychopaths does…”

“How…” Aaron started.

“Toilets are the room next door.” Dave stated, trying to be as serious as he could.

And the awkward and embarrassed look the couple shared made them all agree on one point. That was definitely the best - and worst for Reid - way to announce they were dating.

[criminalmindsgonewrong]

HEAT.

18+, NSFW, pwp. 8.9k words of utter filth.

This is…the definition of shameless. I'll never read this again because I can't reread my own smut, but I hope you enjoy it x

there's Only One Bed. the AC is broken. you know the rest.

Read on fanfiction.net or ao3 or under the cut

JOIN MY TAGLIST

Emily had three problems.

The first was that the hotel room they'd booked only had one bed. The second was that the person outside the door, the person she had to share the hotel room with, was her boss. The third was that, expecting she would get her own bedroom, she had not packed appropriate pyjamas.

No, what she had instead was a tiny, cropped white tank and shorts so tiny she would be hesitant to wear them around her best friend, JJ, let alone Hotch.

She looked at herself in the mirror, at the way the tank clung to the curvature of her breasts. Turning, she tugged down the shorts, but they only went so far before revealing far too much of her midriff. She tugged them up a little, resigned, instead, to half of her ass being on display.

"It's fucking Texas, what was I supposed to pack?" she said to her reflection.

That was fair enough; August in Texas was no joke. Still, she wished she'd been a little more conservative with her choice of attire.

The bathroom was still warm with the steam from her shower, but as she stepped out into their shared hotel room, she realised she'd made a cyclical sort of error when Hotch looked at her from where he was standing near the thermostat.

Did she imagine it, the way his throat bobbed as he took in her appearance? Did his eyes really linger at the hem of her shorts, far too high to be appropriate in present company, or was she making that up?

"It's broken," he said, shortly, about the AC. Emily shivered on the spot, already too cold, and wrapped her arms around herself.

"Can we call reception?" She asked, shifting awkwardly from one foot to the other.

"Already tried," Hotch said, gruffly, "They said there's nothing they can do until morning."

"Well, that's just great," Emily shook her head, "Cheapest hotel in the state, the AC is fucked and we couldn't even get our own damn rooms."

He tried not to take offense to that, shaking his head as he crossed to the bed and grabbed for his go bag. "I hope you left some hot water."

Emily, wringing out her damp hair, rolled her eyes, "I was in there all of five minutes."

"Hmmph," was all the reply she got as he slid past her and into the bathroom. As he manouvred around her, his hand grazed her exposed midriff, and she tried not to let her breath catch at the contact, turning with his hand and finding the bathroom door slammed in her face.

Afterwards, she would insist that he made the first move. He, of course, would do the same.

She was already in bed when he came out of the bathroom, too aware of both her state of undress and the possibility of seeing him emerge shirtless and damp from the bathroom. She didn't think she could handle that, honestly.

Aaron Hotchner was stubborn, impossible, immovable and downright rude sometimes. He was also, unfortunately, fucking hot. And, franky, that was Emily's type down to a T. Probably best not to psychoanalyse that.

Their relationship had been rocky from the beginning, and not really improved in the time she'd been with the team. He didn't trust her, after that business with Strauss, and she didn't particularly like him after all the times he'd been harder on her than the rest of them. But she still noticed the way his eyes seemed to darken whenever he looked at her, narrowing with such intense dislike. She noticed his hands, when they held his phone and made the same model that looked huge in her own hand look tiny, and the veins that stood out along the back of his hands, down into his wrist. She'd probably spent too much time thinking about his hands, if she were truly honest with herself.

So, really, the thought of sharing a bed with him was torture. Knowing he was inches away from her, breathing in the dark, all six-foot one of him, and all of him off limits.

She resigned herself to ignore him, turning her back on him and feigning sleep when he came out of the bathroom. She had tucked herself into the comforter, pulling it tight around her shoulders so that only her head was visible, dark against the white pillows. Still, she was shivering.

She felt the bed dip as he sat on the edge of it, tried to keep her breathing steady as he lay down. On top of the comforter. Emily frowned, her brows forming a little divvet inbetween them. So much for pretending to be asleep, she rolled over and looked at him.

In the sliver of moonlight that filtered between the curtains she could see him laying there with his eyes closed, one arm resting behind his head, the other resting on his bare stomach. All of the muscles she had imagined he would have were present and accounted for, more defined than even she had pictured, and she felt her mouth go dry at just the proximity of him.

"What are you doing?" She whispered into the dimness of the hotel room, and tried to ignore the fact that he was shirtless.

"Trying to sleep." He didn't bother opening his eyes, and she could hear a faint trace of annoyance in his voice. She quirked an eyebrow. "Stop looking at me like that."

"How do you know how I'm looking at you if you have your eyes closed?" They were about to start bickering like children, she knew. This, also, was part of their dynamic.

"Because I know you." He said it simply, and the four words shouldn't have meant much, but they made her pause in the act of whatever she was about to say, her mouth closing, softly as she watched him. He opened one eye, surprised by her silence, and then the other followed as he caught the expression on her face. Something like curiosity, something that stirred something else inside of him. Something that pooled low in his belly.

She gave a little shake of her head, rolled her eyes, "Just be an adult and get under the covers."

She rolled over, effectively putting an end to the coversation, and not really expecting him to listen to her order - because when had he ever before? She was therefore surprised when she felt him move, sitting up, standing up, and then felt the covers pull away from her body as he slipped into them.

Aaron tried not to stare at the curve of her waist into her hip as he lifted the comforter to get into the bed, tried not to let his eyes linger too long on her ass in those little white shorts. He turned his back to her, too.

"Goodnight." He said, gruffly.

"Goodnight." She whispered.

Unsurprisingly, neither of them could sleep.

Whether it was the presence of the other, or the chill of the room, they both lay awake, both pretending they weren't.

Emily kept shifting, presuming Hotch had fallen asleep, curling her knees up, tucking the blanket in even tighter around her, tucking her head into the duvet and then back out, anything to try and take the chill out of the air.

Hotch ignored it, at first, closed his eyes and really did try to go to sleep, despite the image of Emily's silhouette lingering unwantedly in his mind.

He couldn't understand her effect on him; from day one, even back when he was still married to Haley, he'd been more aware of her than the rest of the team. She tapped into something inside of him that he didn't fully recognise; something ancient and primal; desire.

He tried to distance himself from her, pair her with other members of the team, mostly Morgan, in the hopes of reigning in the inappropriate way he so often thought of her. Once Haley left him, it only got worse even though nothing had changed, not really; she was still off limits, as part of his team.

But he would have to be blind not to notice her. The others had noticed her, too, he knew. Morgan certainly had. He'd seen the way the younger agent's eyes sometimes lingered on her, the way he looked at her, hungrily. It made him - and he would never admit this to anybody - jealous, whenever she heard Emily laugh at one of Morgan's jokes, or when he heard them bonding over their favourite author, or when she rested her hand on his arm. It was harmless, he knew, but it still made his jaw tight.

So when this case came across his desk, he knew he had two options. He could send Emily and Morgan, or he could go himself. The decision he made was not the professional one, although anybody outside of his own mind wouldn't think twice about it. He was good, almost too good, at withholding his emotions, and confident that nobody knew of his attraction towards the younger profiler.

Still, even he hadn't anticipated that there would only be one hotel room, one bed. He hadn't imagined that those were the type of pyjamas she packed for a case. Well, okay, he had…but he hadn't thought his imagination would be so accurate.

When she moved again, he let out a frustrated growl and reached behind him, grabbing for her and grasping her hip, without really thinking. She stilled, shocked by the touch that sent currents of electricity through her body, made her heart beat that little bit faster. He let her go as quickly as he had grabbed her, immediately aware that he had overstepped.

"Can you stay still?" He asked, frustrated for more than one reason, and she didn't reply, but she didn't move again, either.

For a few minutes.

"God, Emily, what's wrong with you?" He asked, shoving himself to sit up and switching on his bedside light so that he could look at her. He'd pushed down the comforter, but Emily snatched it back around herself again, and not out of modesty.

"I'm fucking cold," she whined, and, true enough, he saw that her lips were slowly turning blue.

He raised his eyebrows, as she glared up at him, nestled down into the thick duvet. Then he rolled his eyes, switched off the light and lay back down.

Emily continued to glare at him in the dark, until she felt his hand back on her hip, shoving her this time, and she rolled back away from him as he nestled himself against her, his chest against her back, his knees locking in behind hers, his arm flung over her ribs.

Oh. That certainly had the desired effect; instantly, Emily was hotter than she'd ever been in her life. She knew he felt it, too, because he had gone so still behind her. She couldn't even feel the rise of his chest, he was frozen. Panicked by his own action, probably wishng he could take it back instantly. But it was helping with the cold, and Emily arched her back, tucking herself in closer to him.

His hand hung right there in the dark, and Emily's breath hitched with the knowledge that just the twitch of his fingers would have him grazing her breast.

She bit her lip, tugging it between her teeth. She would be lying if she said this wasn't exciting; the sudden wetness between her legs was a testament to that. She hadn't been close to sleep, and certainly wasn't now. They lay like that for a while, Emily breathing steadily, and, slowly, he began to do the same. His chest rose against her back (and even that touch had her breath hitching in her chest) eeking out all of the cold from her bones as they breathed together.

She had never been this close to him. Hadn't ever imagined that he could excite her this way, but his proximity had ignited a fire in her belly and Emily felt as though all of her nerve enddings were raw, exposed, the excitement of what might happen next making her almost vibrate with anticipation.

"Are you warming up?" His breath brushed her ear, and Emily had to close her eyes, her lips trembling as she exhaled, hard.

"Yes," she breathed, unable to help herself, and well aware that her tone told on her.

Afterwards, she would insist that he made the first move, but the truth was that she was the one who pushed her hips back into him, feigning the need for closeness, for warmth, and that the movement of his hand, the way he involuntarily cupped her breast, was more of a reflex than anything. He gasped into her hair as she pushed her ass back into his crotch.

Emily's heart stuttered in her chest, beating so hard she was sure he could hear it, the tension between them only increasing now that she could feel that he was hard against her backside, and she knew this was having the same effect on him as it was on her.

He still hadn't let go of her. She still hadn't moved away.

Emily turned slowly, her breathing the only sound in the darkness and Hotch leaned in as soon as she turned. His lips were a hair's breadth away from hers, his breath tickling her upper lip. She swallowed, loudly, and then he brushed his lips against hers, barely skimming them. He pulled away. Emily chased him, but he was out of reach at this angle. She pouted in the dark.

Then, he did the most Hotch thing ever.

"Can I kiss you?" If she said no, he was going to have to get up and leave this bed, splash his face with cold water, because he was achingly hard now, and still pressed against her ass. Emily couldn't help but smile into the darkness, tugging her bottom lip between her teeth as she said,

"You'd better."

His tongue was in her mouth immediately, and Emily lifted her hand to slide her fingers into his hair. He used his mouth like he did his gun, all focus and strength, sure of his aim; she couldn't help whining against his lips at the sudden, welcome invasion. She craned her neck at an awkward angle, her back twisted almost impossibly, but she didn't care as his tongue licked through her mouth, as she tasted him for the first time.

His hand tightened around her, the squeeze almost painful, but still she pushed her chest forward, offering him more, still, even as he ground his pelvis into her ass. His cock was hard, laid up against his stomach, and wedged into the crevice between her ass cheeks. She pushed back into him and even through their clothes, she could feel the heat coming off of him as he pushed back against her.

It was exhilarating. She didn't even really believe it was happening and the pitch blackness of the room only heightened her other senses.

They kissed like that for a long while, like teenagers discovering sex for the first time, afraid to take the next step. Take it they did, though, as Hotch slipped his hand into the neck of her tank top, greedily searching out her nipple with his fingers, his hand moving from one breast to the other, as though he couldn't get enough of her, as though he couldn't believe his luck. He caught her nipple between two fingers, squeezed it, and Emily's mouth fell open in a gasp, releasing the airlock between their lips even as his tongue swept across hers. Her breath was little more than a stutter as Hotch moved on, his lips on her cheek, her ear, her throat. He paid attention to her pulse point, just below her ear, kissing and licking there as his fingers continued their ministration of her nipples, teasing and twisting and tugging them into hard, rigid peaks. He alternated between that and palming her, the soft warmth of his palm a relief after the roughness of his calloused fingertips.

"God," she breathed, shifting just enough so that she could lay flat on her back, unwinding her arm from the back of his head and turning herself into him, seeking his lips once more. His hand withdrew from her shirt as she moved. They kissed quickly and wetly, each as afraid as the other that one of them would come to their senses and stop this before it had a real chance to begin.

Hotch's strong arm went around her waist, pulling her in closer to him still as he kissed her, and then that same hand, satisfied that she couldn't be pressed more tightly against him if he tried, moved down past the hem of her shorts, to grip her thigh. She was sure his fingertips would leave imprints, he grabbed her so tightly, hitching her leg up and over his hip so that he could push his hips forward, and, again, she felt the promise of his arousal. This time he pressed up against her pussy, the thickness of him a familiar feeling as he nestled into her slit. Her shorts were pulled up and tight, and she could feel him even through two layers of fabric, her imagination running wild as she anticipated the feel of him inside of her, and her stomach jolted with just the thought.

He kissed her ravenously, like a man starved, and he was. The divorce was finalised a few weeks ago, making it nearly six months since he'd so much as touched a woman, longer even since he'd been nestled between the thighs of one. He was painfully hard, now, and rutted against her between their clothes. Her hand slid between them, and she suddenly grasped him through his boxers. He felt her gasp as she closed her hand around him and felt his thickness, and couldn't help but smirk to himself, feeling smug. Hotch moved, tilting his head and focusing his kisses on her throat, alternating between kissing, sucking and licking, all the way back up to her ear, again. Once there, he paused, his breath hot on her skin.

"Think you can take it?" Emily's insides seized as he growled into her ear, his words a teasing taunt she had never imagined he was capable of, had never imagined was his sort of thing. It made her curious what else he might be capable of.

"Only one way to find out," She responded in kind, and slid her hand past his waistband. It was his turn to gasp then, as her fingertips grazed the head of his cock, felt the wetness of precum there and then she gripped him, and pumped him once, twice, slowly.

"How long have you wanted me like this?" She asked, certain that his hardness couldn't just be a product of tonight. She continued her movement as he buried his face in her throat, the beginnings of his beard scratching sensitive skin.

"Fuck, Emily, since the first time I saw you," he said, between kisses, as his hips bucked involuntarily, his cock sliding in her hand. She closed her eyes, smiling, smugly, to herself at his admission, and rewarding him with a few quick pumps of her hand. He groaned against her skin, slid his hand up from her thigh. It lingered at the hem of her shorts, tracing soft lines back and forth over her skin, and Emily felt herself grow wetter at the teasing touch.

Pressing kisses down the column of her throat, Hotch moved down, trying not to shift his hips too much, wanting her to keep touching him, keep working his cock, and licked teasingly at the curve of her breast, down into the crevice of her cleavage.

In the dark, Emily was all touch and no sight, and she felt everything as he pressed his tongue flat against her skin and licked her, tasting the salt on her skin. It was a teaser, she knew, a trailer for the movie he would play later, and as his tongue danced quickly over sensitive skin, she knew he was making a promise. The thought of him performing those same moves between her legs made her thighs clench together, a movement that did not go unnoticed by Aaron, his fingers playing at her inner thigh. She trapped them between her legs, felt the brush of him against her pussy, and froze, holding him there. Her hand, too, stilled on his cock.

Her breath was coming in quick, her brain fuzzy, so high was her arousal.

"We can stop-" Hotch started, but she shook her head, quickly.

"No-" she breathed, "god, please, don't, I just-" her hips stuttered, and, smiling, he understood. He moved his fingers, still caught between her thighs, twitched them just a little.

"Are you desperate to be touched, Emily?" he whispered in the dark, and curled one finger down. Through her shorts, his knuckle grazed her slit, and Hotch moved his finger back and forth, more of a tickle than anything. Emily moaned in frustration, releasing her thighs and trying to grind down against his hand as best as she could.

Chuckling, Hotch pulled his hand away, to another frustrated noise from Emily, and instead grabbed her thigh once more.

"Up," she might normally have bristled at the order, but it sent bolts down into her pussy and she was only too happy to oblige, finding that she enjoyed taking his orders in the bedroom. Eagerly, Emily straddled him, all too happy to settle herself across his crotch, to feel his hard cock laid against her slit and grind down against him.

With a growl, he slid one hand into her hair, pulling her down, his lips reclaiming hers as she rolled her hips against him. He wrapped his arm around her, holding her to him, and Emily fisted the pillow either side of his head, scrunching the fabric into her hands, as he kissed her, deeply.

Then his hands were moving, grasping at the hem of her cropped tank, pulling it over her head. He kissed across her chest, quick and brief, then reached behind his head, flicking on the bedside light.

"I need to see this," he was as breathless as she was, she was glad to hear, and she felt herself flush as his eyes raked over her, lingering over her chest, his pupils blown wide with desire for her. She had the urge to cover herself, her arms moving involuntarily to do so, but Hotch caught her hands in his, twining his fingers through hers, and bucked his hips, jolting her. Emily laughed, the sound breaking through the tension. Hotch smiled at that, at the way she lit up when she laughed. A topless Emily was a beautiful sight, but the smile…god, the smile made her radiant.

Emily paused, looking down at him, the smile lingering around her lips but her eyes curious and wondrous.

"What?" Hotch ran soft, reverant hands over her hips, over the smooth skin he found there, into the dip where her hips gave way to her narrow waist. His thumbs grazed the underside of her breasts.

"You're smiling," she said, "I just don't get to see that a lot."

"You're worth smiling at," he said, and then sat up, keeping her on his lap as he kissed across her chest and licked over a nipple, a hand playing absently with the other. Again, his tongue danced skillfully across her skin and Emily's head fell back with pleasure, her own hand tangling in his soft, black hair as he pulled her tight against him with one hand splayed across her back and nipped, playfully. She hissed through her teeth, bucked her hips against him, and he groaned against her skin.

"Do that again and you'll be in trouble," his voice rumbled against her, and Emily felt it low in her belly, pooling between her legs. Curiosity, more than anything, made Emily roll her hips once more, hard, and she could have sworn she felt him pulse beneath her. Hotch chuckled, low in his throat. "Oh, you wanna play it that way?" He asked, and leaned back against the pillows.

Again, Emily felt exposed as he looked up at her from beneath eyes hooded with lust, her rosy nipples standing taut in the cold air now that he'd left them coated in his saliva. He wasn't smiling now, and Emily felt a hint of something that lingered between excitement and fear as he looked very seriously at her.

"Get on your knees."

She laughed, actually laughed, because no man told her, Emily Prentiss, to get on her knees. No, she only did that when she wanted to, and sure, she absolutely wanted to right now, but the order was unexpected and made her giggle, nervously. Then the smile fell from her face as she realised there was no hint of a joke in his eyes. She raised an eyebrow.

"You're serious."

In response, Hotch twisted his hips, Emily falling sideways onto the bed beside him. She yelped her surprise, then watched as he stood up. Her eyes went wide as she watched him tuck his thumbs into the waistband of his trousers and push them down. He was…Emily swallowed, audibly, and felt her mouth fill with saliva as she looked at him, as her eyes traced his thick, rigid cock, standing to attention, poking at the air, desperate for somewhere soft and warm to be. She felt herself clench around nothing, her eyes darkened with lust, as images of Hotch burying that thing inside her pussy filled her mind.

"I said," He repeated, his tone measured as he grasped the base of his cock and brazenly, slowly, pumped it, completely unashamed in front of her, "Get on your knees."

Emily met his eyes and saw, for a brief flash, the moment when she could have backed out. His eyes softened just a touch, as through asking if this were okay. She knew if it wasn't, he would come back to bed and they would fuck, all vanilla and nice, and then sleep. But Emily was never one to back away from a challenge, and her insides were turning to liquid the longer she stared at him, the longer she contemplated exactly what this version of Aaron Hotchner could do to her.

In answer to the question in his eyes, she moved slowly, compelled by lust and intrigue, entranced by this version of her boss that was not so different to her boss at work, just naked and painfully hard for her.

Emily sank gracefully to her knees on the rough carpet in only her shorts. Clasping her hands together behind her back, she arched her back, pushing her tits forward as though in offering, and looked up at him with huge, innocent eyes. She looked phenomenal, willing and waiting, and it didn't go unnoticed when the hand pumping his cock sped up, nor when his tongue shot out of his mouth to wet his lips.

"Open your mouth," if she'd missed the signs, she knew the effect she was having on him just from his tone of voice, the way it was lowered and quiet. His eyes had darkened and, again, Emily did as she was bid, opening her mouth and sticking her tongue out.

Hotch didn't waste a moment.

She gagged, involuntarily, as he slid his whole length as far into her mouth as it would go. And then repeated the action. She felt her eyes water at the invasion, Hotch not having given her any time to adjust, but she saw from the way his eyes gleamed that this was the intended effect. He wouldn't keep it up forever, he just wanted to see her gag around him, so gag she did.

"Good girl," Emily's thighs clenched around nothing at the praise. She tried to pleasure him, tried to use her tongue on the underside of his cock, but he slid in and out of her mouth so fast that all she could do was be there. He was using her mouth like a pussy, she realised, and the thought made her mind go fuzzy.

He thrust forwards a few more times, and each time Emily felt herself gag, until her eyes were streaming and he was grinning at her, proud of his handy work. When he stopped, she looked up at him with those big, wet brown eyes, her face flushed, her chest heaving as she breathed, hard.

"You're so beautiful," Hotch said. He held her face, one hand on her forehead, the other holding tightly to her chin, and bent to kiss her, quick and rough, "You're doing so good, Emily," she hummed at the praise, and he smiled against her lips, speaking into her mouth, "You're going to work for it now, though, my girl," he said, and she nodded, only too willing, slowly going mad with lust, "You're going to work for all of the nice things I'm going to do to you, aren't you?"

"Yes, sir," the title came out involuntarily, but Hotch closed his eyes, his mouth opening wider against hers, not quite kissing her, but sharing breath, and she knew she had pleased him. When he looked at her again, it was with open lust and approval, and he straightened up, sliding his hands into her hair.

That was all the encouragement Emily needed before she took him back into her mouth, this time using her hands, too. She was no novice, and proved as much, no longer gagging as she was able to set her own pace. He was thick, too thick to fit comfortably down her throat, but she did her best, desperate to please him, to pleasure him.

"Fuck, Emily," his encouragemnt, his open approval, only made her work harder and Emily pumped him, pulling her mouth off of him long enough to spit on the head of his dick, using her hand to spread it, making him slick, her hand moving more easily over his stiff length. He groaned at that, and his hands slid into her hair. She looked up at him, and he nodded, tightening his grip. Emily lined him up and opened her mouth, and then she could only taste him as Hotch bagan to fuck her mouth, his hands so tight in her hair that they almost hurt.

Stars burst behind her eyes as her senses were overwhelmed by him, and the sounds of her throat, of her gagging, of his groans, were obscene.

Emily felt her throat constrict, as her ears bagan to ring, and had to slap Hotch's thigh. Immediately, he withdrew, a string of saliva still connecting her lips to his cock as it stood, red and rigid, and she knew he was close.

Swallowing, hard, she was breathless as she looked up at him and grasped it in a fist, "Are you going to come for me, sir?"

She knew exactly what she was doing, and she felt his dick throb in her hand, to her pleasure. Her shorts, she knew, were ruined, and Emily grinded down against her own heel, searching for any relief she could get. That didn't go unnoticed by Hotch, who stroked her cheek, gentle even as he guided her back to his cock with his other hand.

"You'll get your turn, princess, I promise you that," he said, as she popped him back into her mouth and his eyes rolled back in his head at the pleasure, "But for now, be a good girl and let me come down that pretty throat."

It didn't take long, Emily's mouth and hands working in tandem over his huge cock. She felt his hands fist in her hair, so painful she had to close her eyes, and then his hips stuttered. He held onto her, her nose pressed into his pubic hair, as he came, and she didn't gag as she swallowed his huge load, hot and salty in her throat and when he jerked his hips back, now oversensitive, she caught the rest of it in her hand. Looking him in the eye, she flattened her tongue against her palm, licking the last of him from her skin.

"Fuck, Emily," he growled, grasping her under the arms and pulling her, roughly, to her feet. His lips crashed against hers, and she knew he could taste himself and that he didn't care as he walked her back against the wall. His hand was down her shorts, finally, fingers sliding into her underwear, and when he ran two of them down her slit he found her wet and hot. His fingers slipped over her and he had to stop kissing her long enough to comment.

"You're fucking dripping," he said, appreciatively, his finger gently circling her clit. Emily's legs almost buckled, she was already so sensitive, and she clung tightly to his biceps to keep herself from falling. He smiled, amused and endeared by her. "All this for me?"

He withdrew his hand, much to Emily's disappointment, and brought his fingers instead to his lips. She watched, mesmerised, as he sucked her juices from them. Emily's stomach twisted at the sight, as she watched his tongue dance around his fingers, cleaning every drop of her from them. He pressed his forehead to hers, looked her dead in the eyes.

"You taste so good, sweetheart," he said, running his tongue over his lips, "I'm going to make you come with my tongue, and then I'm going to fuck you, and make you come again, all over my thick cock, okay?" His voice was gravelly, low, even as dropped the hand with his wet fingers to her breast, played with her nipples again, and all Emily could do was nod, weakly, her body feeling like a live wire about to burst into flames. Hotch smirked, clearly proud of the effect he was having on her, and kissed her, again, the taste of them both now mingling in her mouth.

His lips travelled from her mouth to her throat, his lips leaving searing specks over her shoulders and her collar bones, her sternum and across both breasts as he occasionally paused long enough to suck a sore, red bruise into her pale skin. He paused at each nipple, swirled his tongue, nibbled playfully, and she ran her hand through his soft hair. Her head fell back against the door and she sighed, contentedly, at the comfort of that sensation, as his hands circled her waist and she felt him drop to his knees in front of her. She was so engrossed in the attention he gave to her breasts that when he grabbed her shorts and yanked them, and her underwear, down, it knockled her off balance.

Hotch chuckled, darkly, "Sorry, sweetheart," he said, but he didn't sound very sorry. Trying not to feel self conscious as she now stood as naked before him as he was, Emily let him lift one foot, then the other, and stepped out of her shorts. Hotch looked up at her as he threw them elsewhere in the room, maintained eyecontact as he leaned in, kissed her belly button, both of her hips, the very top of the little triangle between her legs.

"Aaron-" she started to protest, and he stopped, sitting back on his own heels. She paused, and he waited, his hands finding hers at her sides. He twined their fingers together, as he had earlier.

"You're perfect," he said, with the slightest shake of his head, leaning in and repeating the same kisses. Tummy, hips, triangle. Then he met her eyes, "Let me."

Nodding, overcome with need for him, Emily breathed out, "Please."

He grabbed her leg, lifted it onto his shoulder and she clenched his hands as she tilted her head back against the door again. His breath was hot against her, and Emily was shaking with anticipation as she waited for him. The first swipe of his tongue against her was slow, drawn out, as was the moan that escaped her lips at the contact. His tongue was hot, pointed, skilled.

"You taste divine," he said, into her cunt, and Emily gushed at the praise. He chuckled, "Oh, she likes that," he said, making her stomach clench at the vibrations his voice sent into her pussy, "My good girl likes that."

It was the my that did it, made her hold his hands tighter, made her whimper, desperately, and then he pressed his tongue flat against her, licked between her lips, tasted all of her, caught her juices with his tongue and swallowed her down as she gushed over his lips. Her mind was blank, her chest heaving as he went to work, his tongue fulfilling the promises he had made earlier, skilfully flitting over her clit, fast as a snake's, or sliding, rigid and probing, against her hole, or flat and wide and wet between her slit. When he circled her hole with his tongue, pushed it inside, his nose slid against her clit and she thought she might lose her fucking mind right then. He alternated, never letting her get too used to his actions, never letting her settle into the motion, building her up and up until she was a frustrated bundle of nerves, until she wanted to hold his head in place and fuck herself against his tongue.

She did wind her hand through his hair, like he'd done to her, did thrust her hips a few times, but Hotch grabbed them and held her in place, and she could hardly fight that. He was much stronger than she was, and held on to her, easily, letting her go only so far as he wanted.

He teased her, tasted her, taunted her with his tongue until she was whining, all but grinding down against his face, and she knew what he wanted, then.

"Please," she breathed, and felt him grin against her, his cheeks in a wide smile between her legs.

"Hmm?" He hummed into her pussy, and she hissed.

"Please," she repeated, through her teeth, tightening her grip on his hair until she knew she was almost pulling it out at the root. He didn't seem to mind, his tongue flitting even faster against her clit.

"Please, what, sweetheart?" He prompted, smugly, and Emily might have shoved him off of her right then if she wasn't so fucking desperate to come, so drunk on this version of him.

"Please, let me come," she gasped, "God, Hotch, I need to come."

"I want you to come, sweetheart," he agreed, "I want to taste you, I want you to lose control all over my face," she whined, hips starting to move erratically, and he let her go, let her hump against his mouth, "Lose control, Emily," then he latched onto her clit and sucked, hard, and she stopped breathing entirely as a searing, scalding orgasm wracked her body, making her blind and deaf all at once. The only thing that kept her on her feet was Hotch's intuition, as he grabbed her hips and pushed her back against the wall.

When she came back down from heaven, Emily felt pleasantly dazed.

"You're too fucking good at that," she said, her voice weak, her hand now soft as she stroked through his hair.

Hotch rose to his feet in front of her and she wrapped her arms around his neck as he leaned in to kiss her, the taste of her still fresh on his tongue. Against her belly, she could feel that he was hard again, and, again, she clenched around nothing, aware that she would soon know how it felt to be taken by him.

Hotch swept her feet from beneath her, lifting her in his arms and carrying her the few feet back to the bed, where he laid her down, her head on the pillows. She looked at him from beneath eyelids heavy with lust.

"I'm clean," she said, without prompting, and he looked at her with approval, stroking his cock as he climbed onto the bed between her legs.

"Good, me too," he leaned over her, and she felt the tip poke against her folds, felt his length slide against her slt. Her slick coated his shaft, and Hotch lazily moved his hips, each gentle thrust bumping the head of his cock against her sensitive bundle of nerves, "I was hoping you'd say that," he said, his lips against her throat, "because I'm going to fuck you senseless until I'm empty, sweetheart, and I'm going to fill you up with come," Emily's mouth went dry, her nails digging into his shoulders where she'd been gently drawing circles, at his words, "How do you feel about that?"

She couldn't believe he still had words left to play with, because she didn't; there was barely a coherent thought in her head as she felt him line himself up against her, as she breathed erratically, anticipating him. Luckily, he wasn't waiting for an answer, and slid, slowly, inside of her. He was even thicker than he seemed, but her tight channel was slick with her orgasm and he slid in easily, even if he did take Emily's breath away with the sheer stretch of him. He went slowly, though, letting her adjust, moving only when she encouraged him with a nod, her eyes closed with concentration as she relaxed around him.

"Fuck," Hotch said, his breath hot against the sensitive skin beneath her ear, "Em, you're so tight."

This time his praise wasn't solely to elicit a reaction; she could hear it in the raspy way he spoke, the effect she had on him and she knew what it was taking for him to not immediately begin pounding into her. His arms shook as he held himself up, and Emily stroked a hand up and down his back, searching for his lips and sliding her tongue into his mouth, kissing him deeply as he notched one last inch inside of her and bottomed out, his balls pressed against her. They were locked together and Emily's breath was shaky when she broke their kiss.

She nodded, shakily, "Go slow," she said, and he did, pulling out of her leisurely, agonizigly, only to surge forwards and repeat the motion. It was bliss. She could feel every contour of him as he slid into her, every ridge as he slid out, and as she grew accustomed to his size, she nodded again and, understanding, Hotch snapped his hips forwards, jolting her up the bed slightly.

"Hotch!" Emily gasped, her mouth open, as the pleasured bordered on pain. He smirked, playfully, at her, and did it again, sending pleasurable waves through her body. "Fuck," she cursed, under her breath. He chuckled, darkly, dropping himself onto his elbows rather than his hands, his chest pressed against hers and bending his legs at the knees to give himself more leverage.

"Fuck, indeed," he said, and started a brutal pace that stole the air from Emily's lungs. He pounded into her with reckless abandon, snapping his hips expertly, his balls slapping against her ass with every thrust. Emily could only hold onto him and she wrapped her legs around him, tilting her pelvis and giving him an even deeper angle. She would have sworn she could feel each thrust in her throat.

It didn't take long until her second orgasm was building, already sensitive from her first. The last thing she wanted to do was become too overstimulated, but she wasn't about to tell him to stop when he was eliciting rivulets of pure pleasure from her body, and as her climax washed over her, she clung tight to him and felt his hips stutter, overcome by the clench of her around him.

"Oh, baby," he praised, the nickname coming easily to his lips, "Sweetheart, you feel so good, milking my cock with that pretty pussy."

The dirty talk still surprised her with every word, unexpected but welcome, and had her coming harder. Hotch dropped his hand between their bodies, rubbing her clit with the pad of his thumb, dragging out her orgasm until she had to push his hand away from her, gasping, and he grinned, slowly thrusting his hips back and forth.

"You're not done yet, Emily," he told her, as she ran her hands over his chest, over the strong muscles she found there, and he lazily thrust into her, giving her a moment to come down, "You're not done until I say you're done, are we clear?"

Again, even through his words, she saw in his eyes the need for her reassurance, her consent, and, licking her lips, Emily nodded, pulling his face back down to hers for a kiss.

"Take me," she said, against his lips, and felt the sudden snap of his hips against her, as his control faltered at her sensual words, eliciting an involuntary groan from the back of her throat, she breathed, hard, and fixed him with her eyes. He stared down at her, as she ran her hands into his hair, and her pupils were blown with lust and desire, her pale skin shining with a thin sheen of sweat, "Fuck me, Aaron, harder."

And maybe it was the use of his name that did it, breaking the last of his resolve, or maybe it was the plea for him to go harder. The permission she gave him to be ruthless.

He pulled out of her, Emily whimpering at the contact and lack of, all at once, and she reached for him. Her hand was on his chest when he grabbed her wrist tightly, bone scraping bone, and pulled her palm to his lips, kissing it, a moment of tenderness before he dropped her hand and grabbed for her hips, instead.

His strength was impressive, and he flipped her like she were a ragdoll, Emily landing on her stomach on the bed, her cheek against the pillow as he manouvred her according to his own will, spread her knees and lifted her hips.

His hand came down, hard, on her ass, the sound splitting the room, and she yeled, her world narrowing to the burning sensation. Hotch stared at the red imprint he'd left on her pale skin, licked his lips, and did it again.

"Aaron," she gasped, pleading.

Hotch stared at her, at where she was pink and glistening, at where her pussy clenched, desperate and needy, around nothing, and couldn't help himself as he leaned in and swiped his tongue through her, once more.

"I'll never get enough of you," he said, burying his face between her legs, and Emily hissed, fists balling up the pillowcase, so sensitive was her pussy. He pumped his cock as he licked through her, high on the scent and taste of her. He fluttered his tongue against her clit, and she groaned, grinding back against his face, as Aaron speared his tongue into her hole. Pathetically, she felt herself winding up again, like a coiled spring, and as Aaron's fingers joined his tongue, his thumb sliding into her hole as his index finger rubbed over her clit, she was coming, again.

She was still coming when she felt him slam back into her pussy and the cry she let out was pathetic, delirious, as she involuntarily tried to escape his overstimulation. Aaron held fast, though, reaching beneath her, grabbing onto her breasts and using them to leverage himself, jamming her back onto his cock roughly, spearing her, hips snapping against her in a relentless rhythm.

"God, you're fucking perfect, Emily," he leaned forwards, biting at her neck, his back pressed against hers and he was everywhere, all over her, all around her, all at once. He was the only thing she knew as she felt her walls clench around him again, and she knew he felt it too by the gutteral moan that came from deep in his chest and rolled over her like a wave. He wrapped his arms around her waist, pressed himself so close to her, deliberately angled his waist so that he bumped again and again against the same delicious spot inside of her, driving her to the point of insanity.

"Come for me, Em, you can do it again," he told her, lips at her ear, and kissed down her throat. He grabbed for her face, turned her to look at him and then his tongue was in her mouth and she did as she was told, spasming beneath him as she came, again, only moments after her last, searing, brainmelting orgasm, and she knew he was close, too, as his lips opened against hers, his breath ragged, "Where?" he could barely manage to breathe.

"Fuck, in-inside, please," Emily gave him all the permission he needed and then she felt the hot spurt of him inside of her as he came, buried to the hilt in her pussy, her walls still clenching him, prolonging his pleasure as she milked him dry. The groan against her ear was gutteral, primal, animalistic and Emily's head was empty of anything but him as she spiralled with him.

He collapsed against her back, spent and exhausted, the delicious weight of him pushing her into the mattress, and Emily realised she wasn't cold anymore. Her skin was on fire, her insides were on fire.

They lay like that for a moment, both of them breathing hard and fast.

Hotch pressed soft kisses across her shoulders, pulling her hair, stuck with sweat to her slick skin, out of the way. Each kiss soothed her, and her breathing began to slow, her heart finally slowing to a normal pace in her chest. She whimpered as he slid out of her, soft now, sensitive after his brutal but satisfying treatment, and felt the gush between her thighs, knew they'd ruined the bedsheets.

Hotch lay beside her, a gentle hand on her back as he tucked himself close and tilted their foreheads together.

"Still cold?" He asked, softly, and Emily chuckled, the sound reverberating through the now silent bedroom.

"Actually, yes," she said, truthfully, the chill creeping back in now that she was exposed to the room and the adrenaline was settling in her veins. He shifted closer to her, pulling the comforter over them both as he lifted his leg over hers and pulled her into him.

"I have to-" she started, but he shook his head, pressed a kiss to her temple.

"In a minute," he said, and she could tell by his voice that he was already falling asleep.

"Alright," she sighed, contented, against his chest, the smell of him, of them, on his skin a comfort she'd never realised she was missing, "Alright, in a minute."

His hand ghosted softly over her back, fingertips tracing patterns she couldn't make out across her soft skin, and he looked down at her with gentle eyes, under tired, hooded eyelids. "How are you feeling?"

"Wow, aftercare, too?" she teased, smiling lazily up at him, and he smirked back, shaking his head a little.

"That was intense," he clarified, flattening his palm against the small of her back, "I'm just making sure you're alright."

Emily reached her hand up from where it lay beneath her head, pressed it against his cheek and pulled him down to her, to kiss him, to reassure him, "I'm great," she said, honestly, because she wasn't about to say I feel like I'm glowing golden.

He kissed her once more, and these kisses were somehow more intimate than those they'd shared before, when they were led by lust. They were soft, searching and almost hesitant as his lips moved against hers.

"We're going to do that again, right?" Hotch said, as Emily finally rolled away from him and stood up on shaky legs. He caught sight of the red marks he'd left behind, whether by his fingers or his mouth, and knew she would be carrying him around for days.

She cast a cheeky glance over her shoulder, caught his eyes roving appreciatively over her body, the slope of her waist, the plump curve of her ass, and grinned. "I hope so."

In the bathroom, Emily caught sight of herself in the mirror and realised that she still had three problems.

The first was the lack of clean - or dry - bedding on which they could sleep tonight. Although she figured they could remedy that by…not sleeping.

The second was the rapidly reddening marks Hotch had left over her throat (over her entire body, really, but the throat was the problem) and the way she knew she didn't have either the clothes or the make-up to cover those the following morning. She traced them with her fingers.

The third was that the man laying in their shared bed, in their shared hotel room, was the best lay she'd ever had, and just so happened to be her boss.

There were, Emily Prentiss figured, definitely bigger problems to have.

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 @canyouhearmeyet @psychicmuffinpandasludge @loriprentiss @eobangingwhen @thenerdthatwrites @daffodil-heart @cloudlessly-light

[duchessas]

the abyss stares back

Summary:

She’s counselling care, but she can already feel herself preparing to throw any notion of caution to the wind. Even if she and Aaron don’t voice their feelings - even if they pretend that this means less than everything to them - their actions give them away completely. The fact Aaron is here, holding her like she’s made of glass, speaks for itself. Besides, it’s been too long, too long without seeing him, too long to go without hearing his voice for Emily to be anything even close to sensible or restrained. Her self control is good, but it’s not that good.

Or: Emily Prentiss has been in flight for years, but she is slowly coming to realise that she can’t run from Aaron Hotchner. Quite the opposite, in fact.

Hello and welcome to another instalment of “Hotchniss stories that ran away with Ellie.” This is part 1 of 2. I really hope you enjoy 🤍

Read on AO3 HERE

[realtime-00]

They’d be so fucking hot. Her running the BAU and him coming out of retirement in his tight ass suits stretching across his broad shoulders. They’d have to kiss. I swear I don’t make the rules. They’d HAVE to.

season 17 aaron and emily would be such a powerful duo

[forhappysake]

[ssaemilyhotchner]

as far as I can tell no one has said E?? and since Emily and I share a name, it feels mandatory <3 congrats on 1k!!!!

@graciehart emily!!! you get one of my faves. tysm & hope you enjoy xo

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

letter: E | prompt: electric | wc: 0.4k cw: 18+, non-graphic sexual content a/n: It’s gray and drizzling as I put the finishing touches on this, which seems right. I could write them like this—flirty & tender & warm—forever. *happy sigh*

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

--

She has a thing for storms.

Nothing volatile like the shock of hail or a flash flood, but Emily loves the sound of a heavy rain and the occasional grumble of thunder. There’s really nothing quite like it, nothing that can compare to the way her skin thrums with every angry roar of the sky above.

Sheets pulled over their heads in a sort of makeshift sanctuary, Hotch is contemplating drifting off to sleep, his arms wrapped securely around Emily’s waist, when he feels her lips tickling his pulse point. Then his Adam’s apple. Then his jaw. He chuckles against her skin before breathing out a warm sigh. “Yes, Agent Prentiss?”

“Turns out that I’m not as tired as I thought,” she says simply, and even in the dark bedroom, her eyes are sparkling with mirth.

“Yeah?” A pleased noise rumbles in his chest as she straddles his thighs, her hands going to his shoulders for support. Emily leans in close and he is momentarily entranced by the way her hair falls around them in curtains of obsidian silk, sheltering them from the storm clouds and the rain. Hotch groans a little against her lips as she tempts him with a kiss, letting her lips flirt with his before pulling away ever so slightly, her gaze on his all the while. “What if I need my beauty sleep?” he teases.

“Then you’re not being very convincing,” she hums. And it’s true, because a hand is now tangling in her hair and pulling her closer, closer.

“That’s because you are very persuasive, sweetheart.” His voice is low, whiskey-smooth. Like her, he’s already impatient, and a jolt of heat, addictive and electric, floods her body at the simple endearment.

Thunder claps loudly above their heads, only barely masking the whine that tumbles from Emily’s lips as their sleep clothes are shed and finally, finally, with whispered encouragement and praise, he joins them and slides home.

“God, you really love this, don’t you?” Hotch pants, already setting a dizzying pace and fuck, she knows she’s not going to last very long. She’s a vision, a goddess, hovering above him and taking the reins. He likes taking control, not that that’s any surprise, but he supposes that just this once—okay, and a couple hundred times after this—he can let Emily be in charge.

He’s certainly not complaining.

[cloudlessly-light]

Could you write a story where Emily has self image problems and doesn't like looking in mirrors. When Aaron finds out gets her to sit against him facing a mirror, with her legs hooked over his. And then fingers her, but won't let her come till she looks at herself. And then after fucks her while making her look at them. The whole time he calls her his pretty girl, and tells her everything thing she does, and every part of her is pretty, with very dirty language.

The whole time Aaron his clothed and Emily is naked, Dom Aaron and Sub Emily.

Title: Right now you’re all that I need Summary:He never would have thought that she’d be insecure about her looks, she radiated confidence on any given day, demanded respect as she walked into a room. She was beautiful, stunning to the point of injustice in his eyes. And he often wondered how she couldn’t see herself that way. Word count: 4,1k Rating: Explicit Warnings: Smut, fingering, dirty talk, praise, praise kink, orgasm control, choking/breathplay, insecurities, self-esteem issues, mirror sex, Aaron is a talker in the bedroom, I don’t make the rules I just follow them

He notices it the first time only a few months into her joining the team, the slightly narrowed eyebrows and pursing of her lips as they stand in an elevator that has a mirrored wall. He doesn’t think much of it, after all it’s only there for a split second. But then he notices it again a couple of weeks later. She comes back with drinks and instead of sitting down at her original seat, she takes Derek’s empty one, he only notices when her shiny hair caught his attention in the mirror behind the bar and he realizes that she’s now sitting with her back to it, instead of facing it. He wonders if anybody else notices.  

But it’s subtle, how she manages to always stand facing away from her own reflection, a skill she must have practiced for years. And he still doesn’t give it much thought.

But then they start dating and he watches the way she scrutinized her face in the mirror as she’s getting ready for work, sees how she sometimes changes clothes four or five times before she’s ready to go out for date night. She tries to hide it, but he’s Aaron and he notices everything.

He never would have thought that she’d be insecure about her looks, she radiated confidence on any given day, demanded respect as she walked into a room. She was beautiful, stunning to the point of injustice in his eyes. And he often wondered how she couldn’t see herself that way.

They fall in love, and he makes sure to tell her she’s beautiful every day, but she would always brush it off, something that irritated him to no end. He couldn’t understand how she couldn’t see what he saw. He tried talking to her about it, and she would gently shut him down with a sad smile and soft eyes.

“I never liked looking at myself, I’m not sure why.”

It was a lie and they both knew it.

Things get a little clearer whenever her mother was around, which wasn’t often. But her subtle digs at her daughter didn’t go unnoticed and it is only Emily’s hand on his thigh, fingers digging into the muscle, that keeps him in control of his anger.

He spends hours trying to show her just how gorgeous she is, how unfairly perfect she is.

It doesn’t really work, so after trying to talk to her multiple times and trying to show her how beautiful she is, he comes up with something else instead. 

“Good morning, gorgeous.” He greets her as he sips coffee in the kitchen as he had waited for Emily to wake up.

“Morning.” She wasn’t a morning person but he still managed to put a smile on her face. She pressed a quick kiss to his lips before making a b-line towards the coffee.

Aaron took a moment to just look at her, hair slightly messy from sleep, one of his old shirts on her body, eyes still sleepy, she was stunning. Even on her worst days she was beaituful and he hated that she didn’t think the same.

“Did you sleep okay?” He comes to stand behind her, lets himself inhale the scent of her and smiles when she shivers at the way his stubble tickles her skin.

“Like a log.” She leans back against his chest, a lazy sigh leaving her as he noses at her hairline.

“Good.” He turns her head enough to be able to look into her eyes. “You’ll need your strength today, sweet thing.”

She catches on in an instant, the knowing smirk and dark eyes familiar and her breathing hitches.

They had fallen into exploration of kink easily, something Emily had always dabbled in and something Aaron had always wanted to try. Now, almost a year later it’s easy to fall into their roles when alone at home.

“Yes, sir.” Her voice is just above a whisper, already breathy and low and he smiles against her lips.

“Good girl.” He claims her lips in a kiss and his hands make their way under the hem of her shirt, fingers gentle against the skin of her hips.

The sound of his phone going off, breaks their bubble and forces them apart.

“It’s Sunday.” She sighs as she peers over his shoulder at his phone, a 911 from JJ.

“I know sweetheart, but we have to go.”

His plans would just have to wait until later.

Later turns into almost a week later, the case taking longer than any of them would have thought. But they fly home from New York and Aaron decides that the paperwork could wait until the morning. It was already late afternoon, and they’d all had a tough week. So he sends them all home, more than happy to get into his car with Emily and drive to their apartment instead of heading to the office.

“You’re planning something.” She says, her tone although teasing, still laced with curiosity.

“That’s not for you to worry about, pretty thing.” His hand falls to her thigh and squeezes. “You just need to be good for me.”

“Yes sir.” She catches the way he grins at her obedience and she feels herself shiver in excitement.

When they get home, Aaron is quick to start on dinner while she goes to shower, a habit she’s had for as long as she remembers. When she comes back wearing a pair of tights and one of his shirts, Aaron is just about to set the table. They eat together, talking about the week and office drama and Jack until their plates are empty and she gets up to load the dishwasher.

“When you’re done, come to the bedroom.” He husks and she feels goosebumps erupt on her skin in response to his dark look and his firm hold on the back of her neck.

“Okay.” She breathes and accepts the kiss he stamps to her lips before disappearing down the hall.

He makes quick work once he’s in the bedroom, grabs the large mirror that hangs on the wall next to their walk in and leans it against the wall facing the foot of the bed. When he sits down on the bed he can see himself perfectly and he smirks to himself.

Emily walks in only a couple of minutes later but stops when he lifts his hand.

“Strip, I want you naked.” He orders, eyes steady on hers. “Then you’re going to sit right here.” He pats the space between his spread legs as he leans against the headboard.

The flush on her cheeks creep down to her chest as she does what he says, eyes obediently on the floor. She leaves the clothes in a pile on the floor, something he knows she does just to irritate him, and if it weren’t for what he was already planning he would have given her a warning for that. By the time she’s crawling between his legs, he can already feel the uncomfortable confide of his pants against his hard cock, but this wasn’t about him so he would wait.

“Sit between my legs, pretty girl.” He helps her turn until she’s seated comfortably, her back flush to his chest. It’s only a second later that she notices the mirror and she tenses and he’s quick to wrap one arm around her, his thumb rubbing soothingly over her ribs as she twists around to look at him.

“Aaron…” She looks at him with wide eyes and parted lips. “What is this? What are you doing?”

“I think it’s about time you start to learn to see what I see.” He feels the tension in her body, can see the apprehension on her face and for a second he wonders if this might be pushing for too much too fast.

“I-I don’t think this is a good idea.” She feels anxiety knotting in her stomach as she gnaws her bottom lip. Her body is still twisted uncomfortably, hiding away from her own reflection to seek the safety of his body.

“Why not?” His voice is a low whisper, his eyes so soft and gentle, something he rarely was when they were doing a scene, but something she needed right then.

“I just, I don’t think I can.” She leans into his warm hand when he cups her cheek and she offers a small smile in return to let him know that she was okay, even through her uncomfortableness she was okay.

“How about this, you can close your eyes, but I want to be able to watch you? And if you still want to stop, we will at any point.”

The seconds it takes for her to think about it seems like an eternity.

“Okay.” She finally breathes and as she relaxes slightly, he does too.

“Good girl.” He kisses her softly and when she falls into him he lets his hands start to wander across her body, caressing soft skin and trailing over the familiar dips and valleys until her breathing is getting ragged and she willingly turns back so she’s seated against him.

Her eyes stay closed as he pulls her legs apart to rest over his own, spreading her wide for his searching hands and greedy eyes. When his breathing hitches at the sight she feels her cheeks burn from the exposure. Logically she knows he’s seen her in every position possible, but something about knowing he’s watching her reflection somehow feels more intimate than anything they’ve done before. But she forces those thoughts away and instead focuses on the way his hands feel on her body.

“You’re so pretty, sweetheart.” He breathes against her ear as he cups her breast in each hand, trapping her nipples and twisting slightly. “Perfect.”

Her back arches, pushing her chest further into his hands, a low gasp leaving her parted lips when he bites down on her earlobe. His hands are warm, the familiarity of his gun-calloused fingers soothing as he slowly moves them down her sides, then further down to ghost over her center. When he grabs the inside of her thigh hard she doesn’t expect it and a sound of surprise leaves her and she hears his snicker against her ear.

Everything felt heightened without her eyesight and soon enough she had forgotten about the mirror, her hips buckling slightly in search of his touch, his hands moving everywhere he could reach, except where she needed him.

“Fuck, pretty thing.” His voice is rough, a vibration against her back as he speaks. “That’s my girl, so needy.” His eyes are glued to her reflection, taking in her flushed skin and body that seemed to tremble with need, need for him. It’s a power rush unlike any other and when he licks the sweat of the skin of her neck she mewls his name, the sound is breathy and low.

“Please touch me.” She whispers when she feels one of his hands travelling up her thigh, up, up, up until his fingers are met by her slick.

“I am touching you.” He smirks at her exasperated huff, can see her scrunched eyebrows in the reflection, her eyes still closed, but more relaxed than they had been in the beginning. Her tongue peeks out to lick her lips and if he could he would have taken a picture of her like this.

It’s not until her hips jerk into his hand again that he takes pity on her. He lets one finger drag from her clit and through her folds slowly and Emily moans in response, her head falling against his shoulder. One of his hands move to her chest, pinching and tweaking one of her nipples again as he pushes his finger inside of her, giving her little relief.

“Fuck Emily, you’re so pretty like this.” He growls and she whimpers at the rasp of it. He pinches her nipple hard and she cries out, the pain of it making her clit ache with need. “My perfect thing.”

“Please, please I need more.” She feels his lips curl into a smirk against her neck, knew the slightly sadistic look in his eyes even without looking.

“Can you feel me sweetheart?” He asks and pushes another finger inside of her, hooking them inside of her and making her hips buckle and a moan to fall from her lips. “Can you feel how hard you make me?” He grinds the palm of his hand against her clit and her hand comes to grab his wrist tightly, her nails digging into his skin. “Looking at you like this, fuck you’re driving me crazy.” His hips rut up against her back, impossibly hard inside of his slacks.  

She tries to reach behind her to touch him, but he’s quick to grab her hand and hold it down against her stomach as his arm wraps around her middle to keep her still, his other hand starting to move faster between her thighs.

“Fuck, Sir I’m close.” She’s panting, her body covered in a thin sheen of sweat as he rubs his hand against her clit and his fingers scissors inside of her.

“I know.” He gasps at the way her walls are tightening around his fingers, her nails close to breaking the skin of his wrist as he brings her closer. “Open your eyes.”

She can barely hear him through the pleasure, her body searching for release as he keeps her tight against him.

“What?” She tries twisting in his grasp but he easily pins her.

“If you want to come, open your eyes.” He slows his movements, feeling her tense against him. When she lets out a sound somewhere between a whine and a whimper, he withdraws his fingers completely and instead starts to rub her clit in circles. “Or do you want to stop?”

“No.” She says quickly, her mind reeling from the orgasm he’s keeping just out of reach. But she can’t bring herself to open her eyes.

“You’re missing out, sweet girl.” He keeps the pressure on her clit light, the rubbing slow but steady, knowing that it would keep her on edge. “You look gorgeous, moaning so prettily for me.” His eyes are trained of her face, looking for any sign that they needed to quit, that he was pushing her too far, but couldn’t find any.

“Aaron,” She breathes, her tongue once again licking over her bottom lip. “Please don’t stop.” Like she knew his hesitation, her words keep him going, his fingers resuming to rub over her clit and his arm tightening around her middle to keep her pinned against him.

“Such a good girl, even when you disobey my order.” He hums against her ear, the sound amused and laced with satisfaction, because he knew she’d break, that she’d do what he asked of her. He thinks she knows it too.

Without warning he thrusts his fingers back inside of her, immediately drawing a high pitched moan as he sets a quicker, rougher pace. The arm wrapped around her loosens and he wraps his hand around her throat, applying just enough pressure to make her gasp.

“If I could, I would take a picture of you like this, use it as my phone background so show everyone just how fucking perfect you are. I’d use those pretty moans of yours as my ringtone, I’d display you for everyone to see, because you’re the most gorgeous thing I’ve ever fucking seen.” The slick sound of his fingers against her mixes with his words in her ears, pushing her toward the edge again in record time.

“Fuck, please Aaron please let me come.” She begged, swallowing desperately against his hand around her throat, her body slowly starting to shake against his.

“I’m the luckiest man in this world, getting to have you, to see you like this, wake up next to you every morning. You should be worshiped.” He keeps his eyes on their reflection, catches his own wild look of want as she squirms and gasps and moans as her pussy starts to clench around his fingers again. “If you only saw what I saw, if you knew how unbelievable you look right now, pretty thing. Come on, open your eyes, look at you, a fucking goddess who’s blessed my life.”

She can’t think, she can barely breathe, she had completely forgotten about the mirror in front of them. So she opens her eyes, and what she sees staring back at her is someone she doesn’t quite recognize, dark eyes and wild hair, cheeks tinted pink and puffy lips, she looks sexy, bare and exposed against his clothed body, his eyes just as wild and dark as hers, a look of want and desperation on his face.

“Good girl, fuck aren’t you so pretty?” His eyes stay on hers in the mirror and when she nods, he smiles. “Tell me you’re my pretty girl.”

���I-I’m your pretty girl.” She gets out through strangled breaths and he ruts against her back again. But she can barely focus on it, because his hand his tightening around her neck and his hand is moving faster between her legs, rubbing against her clit and adding a third finger, stretching her. And then she comes with a deep groan, back arching and hips grinding into his hand as her eyes stay on their reflection. Through the pleasurable bliss he’s creating she can’t look away, the vision of herself somehow making her come harder, making the power of her release even stronger.

“Good girl, my gorgeous thing, you did so good for me.” He mumbles against her ear as she calms, her body still twitching and eyelids heavy as she smiles lazily. It isn’t until she’s slumped against him, trying to catch her breath that he lets go of her neck and wraps both arms around her. “Are you alright?”

“I’m perfect.” She twists enough to kiss him. “Thank you.” She mumbles against his lips and he smiles against hers.

“We’re not done yet.” He kisses her again, deeper this time, his tongue delving into her mouth and she moans into it. “On your hands on and knees.” He mutters once they’ve pulled apart. “Facing the mirror.”

She does what he says, even though it feels a bit strange now, when the veil of arousal is lifted. Her eyes stay on the sheets, head down as she avoids looking up. She hears the sound of his zipper, feels one of his hands on her hip and then hears the low sound of relief from him.

“Eyes up.” He orders as he strokes himself, the tip of his cock nudging against her slick cunt. When she doesn’t do what he says he grabs a fistful of her hair and pulls her head back, the pained gasp from her like music to his ears. He searches her face for a moment, his eyes on hers in the mirror as he rubs his cock through her folds. “Should we stop?”

She knows that they would in a heartbeat if she asked him to, but as she looked at him she found that she didn’t want to, that whatever mental blockage that had existed for so long, suddenly seemed gone.

“No, don’t.” She whispered and she saw her body flushing with the request. He gives her another few seconds to change her mind, his hand loosening in her hair and eyes locked on hers. But she nods and it’s enough for him.

He’s still dressed in his suit, having only gotten his cock out through the fly of his pants and then having Emily completely naked while he was still fully clothed setting something off in him. He thrust inside of her roughly and a loud grunt left him at the sudden heat of her around him.

“Fuck yes, perfect thing.” He growls as his hands settle on her waist to pull her back against him, pushing so deep inside of her that he’s sure it must be uncomfortable for her. But she only moans, eyes rolling back at the sudden stretch of him. “Look at yourself when I fuck you, I want you to see what I get to see every time I’m taking you, to see why you drive me fucking insane.”

“Jesus Christ, Aaron!” She cries out at the rough pace he sets, her body quickly falling into her forearms to be able to take him. But her eyes stay locked on them, on herself. It’s hard to believe it’s her, she thinks, because the woman in the mirror was sexy, beautiful even. Her fingers twists in the sheets and her eyes move from her own flushed face to Aaron’s.

His jaw is clenched, a bead of sweat is rolling down his neck and disappearing under his collar, a steady stream of filthy words and low grunts leaving him. He looks powerful, she thinks, beautiful in his own way. Her train of thought is cut of by his large hand landing a hard spank to her behind and she moans.

“Fuck yourself on me.” He gets out through heavy breaths and stops his movements. He rests his hands on her hips and when she starts to push back and forth on him he smiles. “Just like that, gorgeous thing.”

She moves her body as quickly as she can, the heat of another orgasm slowly building by each deep fill of him.

“God, every part of you is perfect.” He almost marvels as he watches her body in the mirror, from the soft curves and pale skin to her face, her dark eyes wide and full of want and trust. “You’re getting close again, you’re getting so tight sweetheart.”

“Y-yes, fuck you feel so good.” She breathes and his fingers twitch against her hips.

“Go on, make yourself come.” He encourages her and she whimpers, her body stuttering slightly. He watches as she moves one hand from the bed to rub her clit and when she clenches around him his hips jerk forward, forcing a moan from her.

It’s not long until she’s right at the edge, and she can tell from the way Aaron is starting to thrust against her that he’s close as well. So she doubles her efforts, moves her body back against his as hard as she can and keeps her eyes on them in the mirror. When his hold on her turns bruising and he growls her name she comes again with a cry that she’s pretty sure the neighbors can hear. He starts to move, drawing out her pleasure until he comes deep inside of her, the heat of his release making her gasp.

He's jerking and twitching behind her through his own pleasure, her clinging walls massaging his shaft even until he’s softening and oversensitive. When he finally feels like he can breathe again he falls forward, almost crushing her between his body and the mattrass, but she doesn’t complain, only savors the feeling of his warm body and ragged breath against her.

When he rolls off her and onto his back, he’s quick to pull her with him until she’s laying on top of him.

“Your suit will be ruined.” She jokes dryly when she feels his release start to drip out of her and onto his thigh.

“It’s already ruined.” He smiles when she chuckles, his lips against the top of her head. “Besides, it was worth it. That was incredible.” He presses a kiss against her forehead.

“It was.” She agrees and she lifts her head enough to look at him. “So all the work you’ve been doing since we started dating finally paid off huh?” When he only gives her a blank look she rolls her eyes. “You aren’t subtle honey. But you should have known that they way to get through to me was by denying me orgasms.”

“Don’t be a brat.” He grabs one of her arms and pins it behind her back. “Or I’ll tie you down in front of that mirror with a toy between your legs and you’ll get to see just how pretty you are when you cry for me.” She doesn’t reply, but the way she’s biting back a smile and her eyes gleam with interest is more than enough for him to know, that it’s not a threat, it’s a promise.

[sequinsmile-x]

Daybreak

Two early mornings that Aaron and Emily spend together.

-x-

Hi friends!

It's been a hot minute since I wrote some smut, so I thought it was time to do some! This all came from a very tiny little bit of dialogue that I thought of whilst driving to work one day this week.

As ever, please let me know what you think <3

-x-

Words: 3.6k

Warnings: Smut, 18+

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

When Aaron first wakes up, it takes a moment for him to realise he’s not in his bed. 

He smiles as he opens his eyes, overwhelmed by the presence of her. The smell of her pressed into the sheets covering him, her back against his chest, their legs tangled together, the warmth of her soft skin against his more than he could have ever imagined. Any fleeting thought that this could be a dream disappears, gone with the acknowledgement that his subconscious had never done her justice, that it had never lived up to the reality of being with her. 

Emily had been the one to ask him out. A huff escaping her lungs as she rolled her eyes at him, her hands tight in the lapels of his jacket after too close a call on a case, a smile spreading across her face, her dimples carved deep into her cheeks as their eyes met. 

“Are you ever going to take me on a date?” 

The ridiculous thing was, he’d been trying to. 

They’d been closer since she came back from Paris, spending almost all their spare time together ever since she’d agreed to tell him about her bad days. He’d known he was in love with her for a long time, for longer than he cared to admit, and he wasn’t an idiot. He knew she felt the same way, could see it in her eyes whenever she thought he wasn’t looking, in the way she would look after him and Jack. Joy and love and everything in between shining in her eyes when she would read Jack a bedtime story, none of the fear he’d seen when they’d sat opposite each other on the jet on the day that started to change things between them. 

He wanted to ask her out but would choke on it every time. The invite stuck in his throat as he worried maybe he was imagining things, letting himself see things that weren’t there because he wanted to be with her so much. The relief he’d felt when she asked was palpable, washing over him as he nodded in response, something that made her smile impossibly wider and more beautiful. 

The date had been perfect. Dinner and wine in a restaurant she’d recommended. Conversation had been easy, none of the nerves that both of them were feeling showing themselves until he walked her to her front door. She’d smiled at him, her hand wrapped around the tie she’d made fun of him for wearing as she tugged him into a kiss and then into her apartment. They’d spent hours exploring each other, learning peaks and valleys they’d imagined for years, before eventually falling asleep tangled together. 

He trails his hand up and down her back, her skin impossibly soft against his. He draws patterns over her shoulders, unable to stop himself from smiling as she grumbles, shifting against him as she arches her back before she turns to look at him.

“Should have known you’d be allergic to lay-ins,” she says, blinking sleepily at him, her smile contradicting the grumpiness in her tone. She leans up to kiss him, her lips soft against his as he pulls her closer.  

It would be lying to say she’d never imagined this. That she’d never let her mind wander and think about what it would be like to be with him, to wake up pressed up against him, to fall apart as she was aware of nothing but him. At first, she thought it was because he was unavailable. Married and seemingly unable to be in the same room as her, something close to irritation in his eyes every time he looked at her. It was inappropriate, but she’d always had a thing for inappropriate men. Nothing she tried had scratched the itch. Her own fingers and toys and other men never enough to come close to what she wanted from him. What she knew she would get from him. 

It was only when he was almost killed by Foyet, their relationship something closer to friendship by that point, that she realised it was because she was in love with him. It felt ridiculous. Stereotypical. And after she left him at the hospital, the last to leave after Haley and Jack had gone into hiding, she’d gone home and cried - so sure that she’d never get a ch

Things kept getting in their way. Including them. Both of them so damaged, so fractured by what they’d been through that it left them unsure. Gun shy in a way that was out of character, making them lose even more time that made her furious now they were on the other side of it. Now that she knew what it was like to be with him. 

Any irritation is temporary, a flash of a thing that is lost as she melts into his arms, sighing into the kiss as she chases his touch, his palm landing on the small of her back as he pulls her closer. She moves close enough to share his pillow, their chests pressed together as the kiss eventually comes to an end, her forehead pressed against his as she heaves in a breath.  

“Morning,” he mumbles, smiling when she rubs her nose against his, the rumble of his voice making her stomach flip.

“Morning,” she replies, kissing him again, humming into it, “What time do you have to get home to Jack?”

“I don’t have to,” he says simply, smiling when she frowns at him, confusion knitting her brows together. He chuckles and kisses the tip of her nose, and then the space between her brows, “Jack is with Haley’s dad this weekend,” he kisses her cheek, “So I don’t have to be home until tomorrow evening.” 

She smiles, hope and want sparking in her gut as she sinks her teeth into her lower lip, “So…”

He grins as she trails off, pulling her closer and pressing his lips against hers as she hooks a leg over his waist, her hand tangled in his hair. His hand shifts from her lower back and hooks around her thigh as he moves them, trapping her between him and the mattress, “I’m yours all weekend,” he says, his hand drifting to her waist, “If you want me.” 

She chuckles, the question itself ridiculous as she rocks her hips against his, tasting the groan he lets out, pressed against her lips as she wraps her leg around his back.

“I could take you or leave you,” she jokes, nipping at his lower lip, “You might have to prove you’d be useful if you stayed though-” he moves so quickly that she squeals, a sound she’d later deny, lost to laughter as he hovers over her, his hands on either side of her head, his grin wide, “What are you doing?” 

He kisses her, fierce and overpowering as he licks through her mouth, letting her settle into it for only a second before he pulls away, stealing away her breath as he dares to wink at her, “Proving my usefulness.” 

He kisses her once before he starts his journey downward, his lips, teeth and tongue working in tandem to draw noises from her he’d only heard the night before for the first time. A new addiction of his, something he knew he wanted to hear as often as possible for the rest of his life. He pauses to lick over the hickey he’d left on her left breast next to Doyle’s brand, his claim over her new and fresh, blooming and beautiful against her pale skin. He soothes the mark with his tongue, smiling against her skin as she moans, arching her back as she presses her chest closer to him. 

“Aaron.” 

“I’ll never get enough of this,” he mutters, shifting downwards again, kissing the scar that bloomed under her ribcage. Raised, silver skin that showed where she’d been torn apart and put back together. She was nervous about his reaction to it last night. He’d seen the uncertainty in her hands, how they paused for the first time as she pulled her dress up over hips, her fingers twitching as her brain caught up with the rest of her. He’d taken over, told her every inch of her was beautiful and he’d kissed her until she believed him, “Never get enough of you.” 

She chuckles breathlessly as she rests her head back on her pillow, her eyes drifting closed as he kisses her pubic bone. She hadn’t expected him to be so talkative. He was reflective usually. Quiet. Everything he said throughout and purposeful but this was different. A stream of consciousness that never stopped, praise and something close to love pressed against her skin as he learnt everything about her, about what brought her over the edge. 

He pushes her thighs apart, smiling as he presses his thumbs into bruises he’d left there, flashes of how he’d gripped her skin the night before making him groan, his hips pressed against the bed, “You’re fucking gorgeous.” 

She tenses, her breath caught in her chest as she waits for him to move, waits for him to do something. But he stops, teasing touches to her thighs, so close to where she wants him but so far. She groans in frustration and sits up just slightly, her elbows on the mattress as she looks at him. 

“Aaron, I swear to God-” Her threat is cut off as he licks through her, his tongue insistent on her clit as he pushes two fingers inside of her, “Fuck.” 

He smiles against her, turns his head to nip at her thigh before he buries his face in her again, his tongue and fingers working together in tandem to take her apart, words she can’t hear but can feel instead, slowly bringing her towards the edge. She hooks her leg around his back, her heel digging into his shoulder as she rolls her hips against his face, her thighs getting tighter around his head. 

“I’m so close,” she mutters, her hips stuttering, her cheeks warm as she grips the sheet beneath her, wondering how he has her this close already after only one night together, “Fuck I’m close.” 

“I know, baby,” he says, pulling back just enough to speak, “I can feel how tight you’re getting around my fingers,” he curls them inside of her, hitting just the right spot, and a noise she could only describe as guttural escapes her, “Come for me.” 

She screams his name, not thinking about her neighbours, or the fact it was still so early, the morning light only just filtering in through her curtains. He doesn’t stop even as she shudders against her. Instead, he carries on, gentle touches of his tongue and fingers as he drags her orgasm out. She eventually chuckles, her thighs twitching on either side of his head. She moves her foot just enough to kick at his shoulder. 

“Jesus, fuck,” she laughs breathlessly, “okay,” she breathes out, laughing as she shakes her head, “Very useful,” she smiles widely at him, her lips pressed together as she forces herself to stop herself from saying the three words it felt far too early to say, settling instead on three others, “You can stay.” 

He climbs back up her, burying his face in her neck, the smell of herself pressed against her skin, “Oh sweetheart,” he drawls, kissing his way up her neck, “We have two whole days,” he kisses her, “I’m only just getting started.” 

___

She wakes up slowly, a rarity in her life these days - slow, sleepy mornings a thing of the past. 

She groans as she stretches, blinking against the low light in the room, the first signs of a new day pushing themselves through the gaps in the curtains. She sighs when she checks the time on the clock on her nightstand. 

5.30 am. 

Emily flops onto her back and huffs, aware that no matter how tired she is she won’t fall back asleep. Early mornings were hardwired into her now, a part of her routine even on her days off. Brought on by her sons and her husband, and their apparent genetic inability to sleep much past dawn. She looks at the baby monitor on her nightstand and smiles softly at the sight of Oscar still fast asleep, the 6-month-old happy and content for now - something she knew wouldn’t last long. 

The house was quiet for once. Jack was away with Roy and Jessica for the weekend, and Elliot was worn out from spending the day before with the team. He’d fought sleep every second until he finally succumbed to it, the 3-year-old’s face pressed against Emily’s neck as she paced his bedroom with him in her arms, his favourite place to sleep since he’d been a newborn, her lips against his temple as she sang him to sleep. 

He’d be awake soon. His tiny feet thundering against the hardwood floor of the hallway, inevitably waking up his little brother as he ran past his nursery and into Emily and Aaron’s bedroom. He loved snuggling in the big bed, and would often sleep in it too. She knew she shouldn’t encourage it, but one day that would come far too soon for her liking this time of her life would be gone. The boys would grow up and suddenly be too cool for their parents and as excited as she was to see who they were becoming, she wanted it like this for as long as possible. 

She may miss her lay-ins, the lazy weekend starts that had always been rare anyway, but she wouldn’t trade them for anything. 

She turns to look at Aaron and smiles. He was still asleep, lying on his back with one hand next to his head and the other on his chest. She smiles and shifts towards him, pressing herself against his warm body, her face buried in his neck as she breathes him in. He smells like home. The remnants of his cologne still hanging on from the day before, mixed in with sleep and him and something she can never name. 

He moans sleepily, the arm that had been near his head shifting, wrapping around her as he pulls her into him, “Morning.” 

“Morning,” she replies, kissing the juncture of his throat and he pulls her closer, his fingers skimming the hem of her pyjama shorts, drawing idle patterns just under the curve of her ass. She smirks against his skin, nipping lightly at his pulse. She feels the rumble of his laugh more than she hears it, his happiness passing from his chest to hers. 

“What’s got into you?” He asks, his voice delightfully rough, his throat thick with sleep and misuse. 

She hums, pulling her face away from his neck as she looks up at him, her hand on his cheek as she drags him in for a kiss, “Hopefully you.” 

He laughs again, the taste of it against her lips as she kisses him again, her leg hooking over his waist. His hand travels up from her thigh, squeezing her ass as it passes, before sneaking under her shirt. The press of his palm is warm on her back, his hand almost wide enough to span the back of it, his fingers ghosting both sides of her waist, chasing the shiver he creates as he makes them chest to chest. 

“Oscar is asleep,” she says, glancing back at the baby monitor on her nightstand, smiling at the video feed of her son still fast asleep in his crib, one of his tiny hands above his head and the other on his chest just like Aaron’s had been just before he woke up. She turns back to her husband and tugs him towards her so she ends up partially underneath him, “We don’t have a toddler in our bed,” she kisses him, his smile pressed against her lips as he sneaks a hand under her, his palm pressing against her lower back, “And Jack is on his annual camping trip with Roy,” she sinks her teeth into his lower lip for a second, soothing the slight sting with a kiss, “This is a rare opportunity.” 

He hums and rests more of his weight on her, the hard length of him pressing against the juncture of her thighs. He smiles when she groans, taking a moment to roll his hips, to taste the sigh that escapes her lips. 

“Sweetheart,” he says, grasping her thigh, hiking it higher around his hip, “You don’t ever have to convince me to have sex with you,” he kisses her throat, the beat of her pulse against his lips an addiction he knew he’d never be rid of, “If you ever find yourself having to, kill me - I’m already dead.” 

She laughs, the sound swallowed by his lips against hers. She rakes her fingers through his hair, blunt scratching against his scalp in a way that never failed to make him moan. She pulls away from the kiss, her forehead against his, “We need to hurry, you know what Eli is like.” 

He smirks, a glint in his eyes that he only ever got when they were doing this. A part of him that was just hers, something she never took for granted. 

“Well it’s good you wore these cute little shorts to bed then isn’t it,” he says, trailing his fingers over the hem again, smiling when her thighs twitch when he passes over the slick of her as he pushes the shorts aside, “Easy access.”

She hums, pushing his sweatpants down with her foot just enough to let him spring free, her laugh catching in her throat when he notches against her, “Why do you think I wore them?” 

He groans as he pushes forward, his forehead resting against hers. The warm, tight heat of her always enough to make him moan, the punched-out noise muffled against her collarbone as he stops when he’s fully seated inside of her. 

“You feel so good, sweetheart,” he mumbles, kissing everywhere he can reach, thrusting against her when she clenches around him. 

“You too,” she replies, grasping for purchase at the back of his t-shirt, her nails scratching at the soft material as she rolls her hips, wordlessly encouraging him to move, “You feel so good.” 

When their new life settled down around them, when the roaring fire of their relationship settled from the exciting newness into something calmer, a flickering flame that always remained in the background, she worried about it. She loved him, their life together, but as they moved from boyfriend and girlfriend, to being engaged, to getting married, to having more children, she worried this part of their life would change. That they wouldn’t have time for each other. 

Things had changed, but not in the way she’d feared. Their endless need for each other hadn’t faded, it had just adapted with them as their life did. The days of laying next to each other naked all day, only stopping to eat in between rounds to get their energy up, were behind them. But somehow this, slow, lazy, morning sex with her husband had become her favourite. A moment in time when they could just be Emily and Aaron, not Mom and Dad or Agent Prentiss and Agent Hotchner. Just two married people in love with each other, and showing it in the most basic of ways. 

“It’s like you were made for me,” he says, kissing up her throat to capture her lips, “Fucking made for me.” 

“Made for you,” she replies, her breath skipping over his face, her hips stuttering as she gets closer to the edge. She doesn’t have to say it, doesn’t have to tell him that she’s close. He reaches between them and draws circles over her clit, slow and purposeful as he draws her closer to orgasm, “Aaron…” 

“Come for me, baby,” he says, the strain in his voice clear, “Let me feel it.”

She tips over the edge and drags him with her, the hot pulse of him inside of her makes her groan, something he swallows with a kiss, his hand on her cheek as he holds her in place. He smiles when he pulls back from the kiss, his love for her written all over his face.

“Happy ‘first date’ Anniversary, Em.” 

Her smile widens and she pushes his hair from his forehead, smiling at the salt and pepper flashes she can see shining in amongst the dark brown, “You remembered.”

He stamps his lips against hers, “I remember everything about you.” 

She holds him in place, her leg still hooked around his hip, her lips insistent on his, “I love you.” 

“Love you too,” he replies, cut off as they hear a cry from down the hall. They both look at the baby monitor and see Oscar wide awake, tears streaming down his face as he demands attention, “Duty calls,” Aaron says, kissing her one last time before he climbs off of her, pulling his sweatpants back up as he goes, “I’ll go get him.” 

She nods and watches him go, stretching as she stands up, grimacing as she feels the mix of them drip down her thigh. She smiles to herself as she walks to the bathroom, the sound of a door opening and Elliot’s excited voice as he spots his father travelling down the hall. She gets in the shower and makes quick work of cleaning herself up, wanting nothing more than to go downstairs to join her family and start another day in the life she never thought she’d have.

-x-

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[realtime-00]

This is such a damper on my spirits but has anyone noticed Thomas and Paget don’t follow each other on instagram? Like how devastating is that?

[realtime-00]

The way they all look like them 😩😩😩

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