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#aaron hotchner x emily prentiss
sequinsmile-x · 3 days
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The Games We Play - Chapter 4
She’d survived the very worst a person could, lived through things that still kept her up at night, the screams of other innocent people ringing in her head as sleep evaded her.
She’d survived so much, but she didn’t think she’d survive leading him to his death. 
A Hunger Games AU
-x-
Hi friends,
Well, here we are - the final chapter of the most insane fic idea I've had yet. Thanks for all the love on this silly little AU it really means the world.
Please let me know what you think, your comments mean the world <3
-x-
Words: 3.6k
A full list of warnings can be found on the series master list
Read over on Ao3, or below the cut
He grunts as the knife enters his chest again, the pain barely there, not matching up with what he thinks it should feel like. He looks up at George, at the crazed look in his eyes, and he knows this is it, that he’d got so close to surviving, so close to fulfilling his promise to Emily, and he’d fallen at the last hurdle.
Emily. 
He thinks of her smile, of the way she’d laugh just when he needed to hear it. He thinks of her beauty, not diminished by what she’d survived but enhanced, her endless strength making her impossibly more gorgeous. 
He had to make it back to her. 
He growls, an animalistic sound escaping him as he surges forward, taking George by surprise as he flips them, the knife scattering out of the other man's hand as he gets the advantage. He hits him, his fists aching and splitting open as he carries on, not stopping as he feels bones crack beneath his knuckles.
He carries on, all the anger he’d ever felt surging through him. Anger at his father. At himself. At the world he found himself living in. 
He only stops when he physically can’t do it anymore, his arms giving out from under him as he collapses off of George, who was eerily still, his eyes, one of the only recognisable parts of his face left, staring straight ahead.
Aaron collapses, his head swimming as blood loss catches up with him, his eyes drifting shut as he hears a canon crack in the air around him.
___
He sucks in a panicked breath, his eyes flying open as he looks around him, his body heavy as he tries and fails to sit up.
“Aaron.”
His head snaps to his left, his eyes wide and wild as he looks at Emily, a mix of relief and disbelief painted across her face, “Emily?”
“It’s okay,” she says, still in her seat, seemingly glued to it as she looks him over, her shoulders tight, “You’re okay. You’re in the private wing of the hospital,” she says, looking around them, “I shouldn’t even be here,” she flashes him a quick smile, “Dave can talk anyone into anything.” 
He nods, taking in his surroundings a little more now the panic has passed. Everything looked opulent, expensive in a way he never would have been able to imagine before he came to the Capitol. He looks past the open door to his room and sees the nurse sitting at a computer and typing, the clack of the keys clear even from where he is lying in his bed. 
“My hearing,” he says, placing his hand over his right ear, “It’s back. After the explosion with Kate…I could barely hear.”
“They restored it for you,” she explains, her smile tight as she sits up straighter in the chair next to his bed, “Nothing but the best for their victor.” 
He nods, blinking heavily a few times before shaking his head, trying to dispel the sleepiness that threatened to overtake him, “What else?” 
“You have a fair number of scars on your chest,” she says, her eyes fixed on his gown as if she could see his damaged skin through it, “And on your knuckles from where you…” she presses her lips together, the memory of the sound of George’s face giving way under his fists sending a shiver down her spine, “They can get rid of the scars too if you want to. Some people keep them.” 
“Did you keep yours?” 
His question takes her by surprise, and for a moment she forgot he didn’t know, that in all the nights they shared a bed he’d never seen her without her clothes on, had never seen the constellation of scar tissue that spread across her abdomen. Pink lines and creases that had faded to white, skin that was still numb to the touch and likely always would be. 
“Yes,” she says, subconsciously placing her hand over the scar through her shirt, “I kept it.” 
He stores the information away for later, not wanting to pry now, but he thinks he’ll make the same decision, not wanting to lose the evidence of what he’d survived. 
“What else happened?” He asks, and she frowns, her eyebrows knitting together as she tilts her head and he smiles softly, “You looked like you saw a ghost when I woke up.” 
She wonders how she should feel about the fact he can read her so easily, that, despite everything, they’d seemingly picked back up right where they left off when she’d been reaped for her own games and her life had changed forever. She thinks she should hate it, but she doesn’t. She likes that he knows her like that, that he understands her. 
It had been so long since she’d felt known. 
“Your…” she clears her throat, her teeth clenched as she tries to breathe through the emotion threatening to overwhelm her, “Your heart stopped when they got you out,” her voice shakes a little, “You were dead for almost a minute until they brought you back.” 
He frowns and places his hand against his chest, his ribs aching, his entire body on fire from pain that the medication in his system barely dulled, “They brought me back?” 
She chokes out a sound somewhere between a laugh and a sob and she nods, “Yeah, they brought you back.” 
“Why?”
His question surprises her, makes her breath catch in her chest as she looks down at her hands, her torn up cuticles something she can focus on instead of him, “Because they need a winner,” she whispers, “None of this works if they don’t have a winner and George died in the arena. So you’re their winner.” 
He stares at her, his focus on the way she absolutely avoids looking at him. He can’t help but wonder how she felt when she was in his place. When she was laying in a bed, stitched back together after barely surviving the unthinkable, alone and wondering what came next. He feels selfishly grateful that he has her, that she can guide him through this next part. 
“So,” he says, offering her a half smile when she looks at him, “Looks like I’ll be able to take you on a date after all,” he jokes, wanting nothing more than to lighten the mood, to feel anything other than despair for the first time since his brother’s name was called during the reaping. 
She scoffs, shaking her head as she crosses her arms over her chest, Dave’s words from just a few days ago weighing heavily on her chest, “I wish it was that simple.” 
He frowns at her, lifting his hand from his bed and offering it out to her, grateful when she stands and takes it without any further prompting, as if she was magnetised to him, moving against her will, “What do you mean?” 
She isn’t sure how to put it into words. She wanted him, wanted whatever sense of happiness was possible in the reality they lived in, but she knew there would be a cost. She’d always known that, it’s why she’d cut him out of her life until he volunteered for his brother, fate intervening and putting them back firmly in each other's paths. She sighs as she sits on the edge of his bed, his warmth even with the small amount of distance between them intoxicating.
“There will be expectations of us,” she says, her chest hollowed out, aching and empty, ready for the heartbreak she can already feel, the heartbreak she’d endure for the rest of her life if it was what he chooses. She reaches out to push some of his hair out of his face, the strands longer than they usually would be, unkempt from his time in the arena, her fingers ghosting across his forehead. “If we do this. Our life won’t necessarily be our own.” 
He catches her hand as she pulls it away from his face, linking their fingers together and squeezing, desperate to keep her close, “What do you mean?”
She looks over her shoulder to make sure they are alone, to check the nurse who was assigned to him wasn’t in earshot. She’d learnt a long time ago that no one could be trusted, that even those who seemed to be her friends here would give away her secrets for free. The only person she did trust, other than Aaron, was Dave. He’d never lied to her, never been anything other than almost painfully honest, their shared burden of what they did year after year something that had bonded them in a way she’s sure she’d collapse without. She leans in and makes sure she talks quietly, her voice low so only he hears her. 
“We’ll get married,” she says, a smile flitting across her face at the treacherous hope that flashes in his eyes, something that even what he’d just been through couldn’t kill. She liked to think that would one day be the country’s downfall - the hope that existed between them all no matter what they had done to them. Hope that planted seeds and bloomed even in the darkest of circumstances, its flowers too bright and beautiful to be ignored, “And we won’t…there won’t be a lot of choice,” she says, hoping he’d understand, that he wouldn’t make her say it, “We would be expected to do our duty as victors.” 
It’s the desperate look in her eyes that makes it click for him. He thinks of their conversation on the train, the way they’d casually agreed children weren’t on the cards for either of them as they drank liquor he’s sure cost more than his parent’s house. It was a moment in time, something that had led him back to her, his volunteering for his brother a crossroads in his life that had changed everything. A decision that, in the grand scheme of things, hadn’t been that long ago but may as well have happened to a different person. 
“Oh,” he says, feeling her hand go slack in his, her expression tight as she starts to pull away, taking his silence and lack of a reaction as confirmation he would change his mind. He holds her hand even tighter, and feels her bones pop against each other, “Well, if there was anyone I’d want to do any of that with, it would be you.” 
She scoffs, disbelief catching on every rib as it forces its way out, “Aaron, it’s not that simple,” she says, looking down at their joint hands, his tanned skin from the artificial sun in the arena making hers look even paler than usual, “We’d have to have children. If we didn’t Barnes would punish us, our families.” 
“Em-”
She carries on as if he hasn’t spoken, as if she can’t hear him. All of the fears she’d pushed down for years finally burst to the surface, escaping from the box she’d hidden them in because he’d knocked it over, his love and kindness tearing her defences to pieces. 
“And as much as I always said I don’t want children, I’d love them. I’d love them so much and then having to send them off to the arena when they turn 12-” she’s cut off as he sits up, groaning at the pain that spreads through his chest, his entire body burning from the points where Foyet had stabbed him, “What are you doing? You’re hurt.” 
“I’m trying to hug you,” he says through gritted teeth as she lowers him back down to the bed, her hands firm on his shoulders as she raises an eyebrow at him in disbelief. He breathes through the pain for a moment and then rests his hands on her hips, “Em, I understand what you’re saying,” he says, encouraging her closer, her face close enough that he can feel her breath skipping across his skin, “I know it won’t be easy, but even if we had a kid tomorrow, 12 years is a long time. You never know what could happen.” 
She huffs out a laugh and presses her forehead against his, “You think the world is going to change enough between now and then to mean we’d be safe.” 
“I think you haven’t even kissed me yet,” he says, his hand on her back, his palm splayed so his fingers sneak under the hem of her shirt, smiling softly as she shivers as his heated skin touches hers, “Everything else will happen as it happens.” 
She thinks she should hate him for being so sure, for the hint of optimism she knew time would kill over the next few years, but she can’t bring herself to. Instead, she allows herself to feel the relief that she’d been holding off since she’d arrived at the hospital. It fills her lungs, her chest fully expanding for the first time since she’d last seen him before he went into the arena, and she shakes her head, pressing her forehead against his for a moment before she pulls back, her smile fond as their eyes meet. 
She leans in and presses her lips against his, her hand on his cheek to hold him in place, as if he’d rather be anywhere else even if he had the strength to move. It’s everything she’d ever imagined it to be and more as he pulls her closer, his hand insistent on her back as his other one finds its way into her hair, anchoring her to him. He tastes of the sugary medicinal drink she’d been made to have when she first woke up when she won the games, a boost she’d never known the name of, a hint of something she knew must just be him lingering underneath. 
He sighs contentedly as she sinks into him, her tongue running across the seam of his lips before he opens his mouth. He’d thought about this moment for so long that it didn’t feel real, almost too good to be true. For a moment he wonders if he really did die in the arena, if this was the last thing his subconscious was doing for him, a moment of heaven before he slipped into darkness. 
He knows it’s real the moment she pulls back, a concerned look on her face as he groans in pain, the two of them having got carried away as he pulls her tight to his chest, the pain reverberating throughout his body. 
“Sorry,” she says, her hand slipping from his cheek to his throat, the reassuring thump of his pulse against her skin calming her down. 
“Never apologise for kissing me,” he replies, encouraging her back in for another kiss, a quick thing stamped against her lips, “But we might have to wait a little while for our date.”
She smiles and nods, resting her forehead against his, taking a moment to breathe him in, “I should get going anyway. Let you rest.”
He shakes his head, “No, stay.”
“Aaron-”
“Please,” he says, wincing as he tries to shift in the bed, making room for her to slide in next to him, “I want you to stay.” 
She hesitates, not sure what people would say or think if they found her in his bed, but she realises she doesn’t care. For the first time in years, she doesn’t think about anyone other than herself and she nods, slipping off her shoes before she carefully slips into bed with him, her head on his shoulder as she snuggles into his side. A sense of peace she hadn’t felt since they’d last slept next to each other washes over her and she tilts her head to look up at him. 
“I love you,” she says, the words not seeming as heavy as they had on the rooftop the night before the games started. It was no longer something she’d only get to say to him once, no longer a rushed confession borne out of a misunderstanding. It was softer, impossibly more real.
Something she would say to him every day for the rest of her life. 
“I love you too,” he replies, kissing the top of her head, tightening his hold on her the best he can with his injuries, “And I’ll spend the rest of my life doing that the best way that I can.” 
___
At first, she’s not sure what wakes her up.
She’d never slept well on the train, not from the very first time she’d boarded it. It was eerily quiet given the speed they were travelling and it left her feeling uneasy, a stillness to it all that felt unnatural. 
She rolls onto her back and groans, rubbing her hands over her eyes as she considers going to watch the sunrise in the back carriage, and then she hears a moan next to her, drawing her attention to Aaron as he sleeps fitfully. As he thrashes in the bed, his fists clenched at his sides, she knows what woke her up and she sighs sadly. She sits up and turns on the light, folding her legs against her chest and wrapping her arms around them as she watches him, waiting for him to wake up. 
The first night he’d been back from the hospital, the same day he’d had his interview with Gideon, she’d tried to wake him up. She’d put her hands on his face and tried to pull him out of it, her words soft and reassuring as she eased him back to her. He’d grabbed her wrist, his grip tight around it, as he woke up, leaving a bruise that hadn’t quite faded yet. He hadn’t forgiven himself, had refused to sleep next to her again until she promised she wouldn’t try to wake him up again, and she hated how he sometimes looked at her. 
As if she had something to be afraid of when she was with him. 
It feels like an age passes before he wakes up, his chest filling quickly with a breath that’s clearly painful as he sits up, his eyes wild as he yells, his fists clenched so tightly she’s sure he could break the skin on his palms. 
“Aaron,” she says quietly, not wanting to startle him. He looks at her so quickly it must pull at his neck, his eyes still wide as they meet hers. She knows that look, she’s seen it on her own face in the small hours of the night as she splashed water on herself in the bathroom after a nightmare. He was in the arena, his mind playing tricks on him even though he was now as safe as he ever would be. “You’re okay. It’s a dream. We’re on the train home.” 
“Emily?” 
She smiles and nods, shifting closer to him as the fog in his eyes starts to lift. She reaches out and places her hand on his cheek, her heart twisting in her chest as he leans into it, seeking out the affection she always had waiting for him. 
“It’s me. I’m right here,” she assures him, shifting closer again until she’s in his lap, something in her stomach easing when he wraps his arms around her and holds her close, “I’m right here.” 
He sighs, his eyes drifting closed as he rests his forehead on her temple, taking the chance to breathe her in, to replace the blood he could still smell with the scent of her, “I’m sorry.” 
She pulls back and cups his cheek again, “You have nothing to be sorry for.” 
His eyes drift to her bruised wrist and guilt churns in his gut just like it had every day since he’d woken up to find his first wrapped tightly around it. He clenches his teeth and shakes his head, familiar anger he hadn’t been able to shift since the arena burning through him. 
“I don’t know how you can even look at me.” 
She frowns as he looks down, avoiding her eye contact. He barely lets go of her though, as if she was the only thing keeping him grounded, so she wraps her arms around his shoulders to hold him close. 
“What do you mean, sweetheart?” She asks, the moniker slipping free without her meaning it to, her focus on playing with the short hairs at the back of his head, providing comfort in any way she can. 
“I hurt you,” he says, his tone flat as he continues to stare at the wall, “I killed people, Em,” he finally pulls away to look at her, “I killed a guy with my bare hands.” 
“If you hadn’t, he would have killed you,” she reasons, an edge of desperation to her voice that she ignores, “And I’ve killed people too. It’s the only reason we’re both still here,” she smiles sadly, her hand on his cheek as she holds him in place, “Does that make it hard for you to look at me?” 
He shakes his head immediately, his eyebrows furrowing as if the mere idea was ridiculous, “Of course not,” he says emphatically, “Never.” 
“Then it’s not going to make it hard for me to look at you,” she says, making a point of reaching for his hand, of smoothing her fingers over the still healing cuts on his knuckles, “We survived,” she looks up at him, making eye contact as she kisses his hand, soothes away the damage both physical and mental, the scars she couldn’t see but knew were there, “We survived, and now we’ve got to try and live. As best as we can,” she kisses him, her lips firm against his, and she barely pulls back, her breath skipping across his face as she speaks, “Together.” 
He nods, pulling her closer, his grip on her fierce. She holds him back just as tightly, seeking comfort as easily as she gives it. 
“Together.” 
-x-
Me to me: you will not write a sequel…you will not write a sequel…
-x-
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cloudlessly-light · 3 days
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The darkest parts of me (5/5)
A/N: Thanks to everyone who’s encouraged and read this little story of mine! I’ll be back to posting pure filth soon!
Title: The darkest parts of me (5/5) Summary: They find each other in a dark world where they do twisted things. The only way things could have become more dangerous, is if they were together. Funny how life turns out.
Unsub!Hotchniss AU.   Word count: 2,2k Rating: Explicit Warnings (for most or all chapters): smut, descriptions of violence, descriptions of murder, gore (nothing too explicit), mentions of weapons
David Rossi stands in a parking lot looking at the ground where only hours before a man’s body had been lying. A body that knew was a from the murders he’s spent the better part of a year hunting. They had gotten the call early, a quick description of the scene, but witnesses in the diner had described a couple, and he knew they had to go to California to see it for themselves. They had never been so close to catching them.
His phone rings, sounding loud even though there’s people everywhere and he looks down to see Jason’s name flash on the screen.
“Hey.”
“I’m leaving the ME’s now. It looks like a snapped neck, the man was an ex-marine.” Jason speaks as he walks to the car. “Wife and kids at home.”
“This wasn’t premeditated.” Dave says as he looks around and realizes that in the dead of night there was no way no one would be able to see the murder take place. “He had recognized the unsubs from the news and went to confront the woman while the man was in the bathroom. He was on with 911 when it happened.”
“So they’re close by.” Jason concluded for him.
“They have to be.” Dave walks around the crime scene as he holds the phone to his ear. “The roadblocks are up, every cop in the state knows to be on the lookout. They won’t get away. Not this time.”
There’s a beat of silence and Dave waits for Jason to say what they both were thinking.
“Let’s hope so.”
*
“We can’t stay here.” Aaron told her, surprisingly calm considering the circumstances.
“I know.” She says, her bag already packed, her gun cold against the small of her back where it rests in the lining of her jeans. “I think we need to get out of the country. It’s time”
“Where do you want to go?” He cups the back of her neck, the hand that only a couple of hours before had snapped a guy’s neck, was now so gentle as he brushed his thumb over her cheekbone.
“Anywhere we want.” She smiles when she hands him the passports that Clyde had made for them. “As long as we go fast.”
He nods, because they had planned for this, had planned for what they would do if something went wrong. He just hadn’t expected it to happen so soon. But they had a plan, actually had multiple ways to leave and somewhere in the back of his mind he thanks whatever lucky star for Emily’s funds.
She watches as he carries their bags to the car with a small smile. She knew she should be worried, that she should be scared because at any moment they could be found. But she isn’t, she’s excited, a familiar rush running through her at the thought of a chase. It’s a new kind of adrenaline, and she wonders if she’s found another way to get the high she’s always chasing.
They drive on backroads, not caring that the drive would take much longer, because they knew that any highway was a road to getting caught. His hand rests on her thighs as they drive, her smaller one on top of his and when she squeezes it he looks at her.
“Do you feel bad?” She asks and he knows what she means without her having to elaborate.
“We don’t know if that man deserved to die, but he put us in danger. It was worth it.” He offers her a small smile and she squeezes his hand again, a smirk on her face.
“It was sexy.” She says, dark eyes gleaming and he chuckles.
“My dirty girl.” He always loved how much his killing turned her on and it took every ounce of willpower not to put the car in park to have his way with her. But they needed to get to Arizona, from there they’d be able to get on a flight. It was a long drive, hours on the road, and they didn’t have time to stop.
“Once we’re safe, I’ll show you just how dirty I can be.” She feels his fingers dig into her thigh and she grins.
“You think you haven’t shown me exactly how filthy you can be yet, sweetheart?” He chuckles, but there’s an uncomfortable ache in the pit of his stomach, want quickly settling between his legs.
“I still have a few tricks up my sleeve.” She leans over the center console and licks his neck, her teeth grazing the skin there slowly before he urges her back into her seat.
 “You’re sure we can trust Clyde with this right?” He asks, needing to think about something else, anything else, than how much he wanted her.
“Yes. He’s already made arrangements, we’re flying early tomorrow morning.” She knew that Aaron didn’t fully trust Clyde, but he had been the only one to help her when she decided to get away from her old life, had helped her again after she killed Ian. If there was anybody she trusted except for Aaron, it was him.
“How did you meet him?” He realized he had never asked her.
“His dad worked for my dad, and when he got older, he just like me, wanted another life. When I decided to leave, when I decided to become someone else, I reached out to him and he lived in the Netherlands, I went there and he helped me become Lauren Reynolds. We didn’t speak again until Ian, but he has connections everywhere, can make anyone disappear and he helped me again.” She didn’t talk much about life with Ian, much less about her time with her parents and she knew Aaron was hanging onto every word.
“Do you think it’s a good idea to still be in contact with him? If he has ties to your parents and your old life?” He knew that Emily was intelligent, that she wouldn’t take unnecessary risks with her life.
“He, just like me, changed everything about himself, he technically doesn’t exist. He made it look like he died in a plane crash years ago.” She took his hand again. “Trust me, we don’t have to worry about him.”
“Okay sweetheart.” He pulls her into a kiss, a quick thing stamped onto her lips that she smiles into. “We better hope we don’t get caught before we get to the plane.” He winks at her, and she knows that he’s finding this just as thrilling as she did.
*
They had been looking for hours, had every cop in the city out patrolling the streets. But still, the unsubs were gone.
“It’s like catching smoke.” Dave grunts as he sits in the precinct with Jason, a cup of bad coffee in front of him on the table.
“No killer is unstoppable, but maybe we simply got here  too late.” He says, his own cup untouched in front of him. “They know we’re after them, they had a head start.”
“What are you thinking Jason?” He looks at the look of sadness on his friend’s face.
“We know that they have money, that they’ve travelled the country for a long time, the woman seems like a ghost, she doesn’t exist anywhere. They’re getting ready to leave the country. And we might not be able to stop them.”
“I’m calling the airports.” The detective that’s seated with them says and Jason nods, but as he looks at Dave he knows that he’s thinking the same thing he is. The unsubs had an escape plan, and now they’re stuck playing catchup.
*
Emily yawns as she drives on the deserted roads, it was late, they had been driving for most of the day and night. She looks over to Aaron who’s sleeping beside her, his usually intense face as relaxed as it’ll ever be and she smiles. They were getting close to the private airport, they were close to escaping. She wondered what their new life was going to be like.
As she sits there, lost in her own thoughts her phone rings and Aaron grunts beside her as he wakes up.
“Yeah?” She already knew who it was, he was the only one who had her number.
“One of my men saw you passing him about a minute ago. Ditch the car, I’ll have him pick you up.” Clyde’s low voice sounds through the phone.
“Why?” She asks but still pulls off to the side of the road while keeping him on speakerphone so Aaron can hear.
“Because your rental is more noticeable than one of my cars.” She can hear his smirk through the phone. “Leave it where you are, about a mile down there’s a gas station, we’re waiting for you there.”
“What about the car we’re driving now?” She puts the car in park while Aaron rubs his eyes and stretches.
“We’ll make it disappear, it won’t be traced back to either of you. Come on darlin’, no need to be difficult about this.”
She looks to Aaron who nods, seemingly agreeing to the plan and they both get out of the car.
“Okay, see you soon.” She throws the phone to the ground and smashed it. She wouldn’t be needing it anymore.
*
It was almost 3AM when a young cop comes running into the small conference room they’re sitting in.
“They’re in Arizona! We got a call from a detective, they saw the suspects getting into a car at a gas station.”
“They have help.” Jason stands up at the same time as Dave.
“But they won’t be able to board a plane. Everyone knows to be on the lookout.” The cops says, his voice hopeful.
“They have money, connections. They’re probably flying out from a smaller airport, one that won’t be stopping them if given enough money.” Dave explains as they start to walk through the precinct, they didn’t have a lot of time.
“Like a bribe? But that’s illegal.”
Dave smiles at the other man’s innocence and squeezes his shoulder.
“Money will get you anywhere, kid.”
“Come on, we need to get there, we’re calling the team in Arizona on the way.” Jason is already holding the phone to his ear as he urges Dave to follow him. “We’ve got them.”
*
“The cops are coming, the whole fucking cavaliere.” Clyde says with a grin on his face, clearly enjoying the situation.
“How do you know?” Aaron asks as he sits on the small private plane next to Emily who’s leaning into his side, his arm around her shoulders.
“I have men everywhere, and I’ve gotten three calls already.” The British man looks at them with something close to glee. “You did always know how to make things interesting, darlin’”
Emily rolls her eyes but still smiles at his words. She feels Aaron’s hand tightening on her upper arm and she looks at him in amusement. She found his jealousy sexy, she always had, and he always wanted to put his claim on her, always wanted her to feel like his.
“Thank you for helping us out.” She says to the man across from her.
“I’ll always like helping an old friend out. For a fee that is.” He winks at her and she shakes her head at the way all Clyde always wanted was money. She takes the suitcase beside her and slides it over the table, her eyebrow arched as she waits for him to open it.
“That should be more than enough.” She swears she sees his eyes light up at the sight of the bills in neat stacks in the suitcase. “Now, get us out of here.” Her gun rests on the table and she picks it up casually and she feels Aaron tense against her side, always ready to back her up if needed.
“No need to get violent Em. You’ll be in the air in less than thirty.”
“We’ll have to be quicker than that.” Aaron says as he looks out the window where he sees blue lights in the distance. “We have to go now.”
*
Dave doesn’t think the devastation of making it only minutes too late would be something he’ll ever get over. He will never forget seeing the small plane take off, a shadow of a man looking back at him from the air.
He wouldn’t give up on finding them, but realistically he knew that he might never do. There was no trail where they had gone, no transactions to look into, no bank accounts, not even the people helping their unsubs had their real identeties. It wouldn’t have mattered if they did though, they were gone. All of them.
*
Aaron smiles his thanks at the bartender as he grabs their drinks. The sun was hot on his skin, the sand soft as he walked in his flipflops towards the sunbeds where Emily was laying. She looks up at him from behind her glasses, her skin shining from the lotion and sweat and he licks his lips at the sight.
When he hands her the colorful drink she had asked for, she sits up in her chair. She clinks her glass with his, a smile on her face. “We made it.”
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zombieunicorngamerzu · 5 months
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(Aaron Hotchner and Emily Prentiss x New Youngest BAU agent fem reader)
[Warnings- Power Dynamics, Stalking, Dark themes, Case details, Slow burn? Drowning and being revived, hypothermia, shared bath with Aaron, Naive reader, Mommy and Daddy, PNV sex, innocent reader, smut, claiming, creampies spanking, praise, aftercare]
The day you joined the BAU, you thought everybody was very nice, the others were welcoming, but the two that stuck out the most to you were SSA Aaron Hotchner, who greeted you with a firm handshake and a hand on your back, his voice was deep, rough, and monotone, but you could tell in his eyes that he showed a little concern over you, probably because you were only nineteen, but you were a genius, like Spencer Reid you held a extremely high IQ, causing the FBI to recruit you after you hacked into their main systems on “accident”, Garcia was actually the one to catch you and then recommend you after you were caught to join the FBI.
Next was Emily Prentiss, she greeted you with a smile and a hug, she was so warm and friendly but she held more concern over you, a protectiveness and slight affection for you she showed well to others if they got too close to you. She saved you from many situations, either with people underestimating you when you joined a case or with unsubs who tried to prey on you for your, what she called, “naivety.” Emily always claimed you showed too much compassion to unsubs when interrogating or provoking.
That’s what you were good at, you surprised the team with your abilities to get into the minds of unsubs, your ability to predict their behavior or intentions even surpassed Spencer, which shocked the entire team. You, this little ball of smiles and shyness turned into a calculating manipulator as soon as you hit the interrogation room. You were unmatched and always used tactics of bonding with the unsubs, empathizing with them before using tactics of, “I would do the same if I were in your position,” or “That must have been so hard for you, I can’t even imagine being alone like that and suffering, how do you do it?”
You would play unsubs like a violin with your “caring” displays, you showed them more respect and empathy than anyone in their lives did, practically lovebombing them with care and concern while playing dumb the whole time. You were actually the smartest on the team which gained you respect a lot. The only issues you had were… well you, your clumsiness, your inability to be aware of your surroundings, how easily you would get distracted, you constantly worried both Emily, Hotch, and the others, they constantly wondered how the hell you were still alive.
Both Emily, Hotch, and JJ were your main supervisors on missions, having to literally be attached to your hip to make sure you didn’t get ambushed or injured simply because you just couldn’t be aware of your surroundings. Even outside of work both Emily and Hotch have had to “watch over you” to make sure you were safe, you couldn’t drive surprisingly, which both of them didn’t know if that was a good or bad thing, but you took the subway to and from work everyday, Emily and Hotch took turns, “subtly” making sure to take the train every morning and late night just to make sure you got home safe or they would just offer to drive you, which is what you usually did after a few months of working with them.
But months into the job, after a particularly hard mission that took you all to Alaska, Emily and Hotch freaked, like growing totally overbearing and overprotective, not leaving your side. That mission was a nightmare. You couldn’t stand the cold, so literally once you got there you just couldn’t function, Emily was the first to notice how you grew quiet, practically mute, shivering violently even in the three layers and coat she dressed you in. She tried to help by rubbing your shoulders and keeping you close to her and Hotch, but nothing worked.
The team had never seen you so quiet, you just were not built for this case, or the cold weather. Even when you had to share rooms at the small inn you didn't react, too busy shivering due to the cold, you didn't care or comprehend the fact that Emily had been holding you the whole time, or the fact that when you were burying your face into her shoulder Emily smiled. You were led up to a small room in the inn with, wow... only one bed and a small couch. You immediately said you could take the couch but were cut off by both Emily and Aaron who you were bunking with that it would be warmer if you shared the bed together.
So that's where you ended up for the night, sandwiched between the two older agents until early dawn when you had to get up and get dressed to head into the cold again to another crime scene due to the killer striking again in the night. You were again, quiet, grumpy, and miserable, and it didn't help that the crime scene was on the docs near the icy dark depths of water. You were petrified of bodies of water, and you never knew why, you just stayed away from water all you could, plus you couldn't swim. Emily was the first to notice you staring at the water with an almost fearful expression, walking over to you to nudge you gently, "Hey, you okay?"
You snapped your head up quickly at the nudge, nodding as you crossed your arms, "Yeah, just cold." She just raised her brows at you. "Really? Because you're staring at the water like it did something to you." You just sighed, looking up at her hesitantly, "I just- I don't like water." She frowned a little in confusion, "Why?" The way Emily was staring at you with her head tilted made you fluster, it was embarrassing to you, so you just lowered your head with a sigh, seeing the cold mist that your breath gave as you shuttered, "I-I can't swim."
Emily's eyes widened at your words, now she felt paranoid about you even being on the doc, her hand gently wrapping around your arm to pull you a little further away from the edge as she spoke, "Then how about we keep you away from these ledges, yeah?" You just blushed at the way she tried to protect you from the possibility of slipping, she watched you much closer now until you got off the docks, everybody heading back to the inn for the day. When you got back you decided to try to hang around down in the common area, watching out the windows with some hot chocolate before something caught your eye.
You immediately dropped your mug down on the table with a yell to the others as you saw a hooded figure dragging what you assumed to be a victim down to the docs, running out the door, and drawing your gun as you chased after them. You could hear commotion and yelling behind you, so you knew the others were coming, that made you feel slightly better as you ran out on the docs, it was dark and hard to see, your breathes heavy as you looked around for the unsub before you felt a shove against your back, slipping before your entire body went into shock at the feeling of water, cold water surrounding you.
Emily, Derek, and Aaron were the first ones out of the inn and the first to see the unsub shove you into the water, Emily practically screamed when she saw you slip and fall in, her voice booming out to Aaron as he barked at Derek to go after the unsub, JJ already on him, "Aaron, she cant swim!" Aarons eyes widened at Emily's words before he was running over to the doc with Emily calling out for him, but he didn't stop, he jumped in straight after you.
You didn't know what to do, flailing in complete shock with a scream of terror for help. You were petrified at the water swallowing you up, the temperature shocked your body to the point you couldn't feel it, all you remembered was going under and then darkness, piercing cold, heaviness, your lungs on fire, quickly growing tired due to fighting the water and not knowing which way was up, eventually you just gave up, letting the darkness swallow you up. You didn't remember much during that time, you didn't know how long you were under, a minute? Two? More? All you knew was that you felt a strong frame pulling your body against theirs before you were hauled up.
Emily stood above, immediately crouching down as Aaron came back up, shivering and panting with his hair wet as he held you up for Emily to take, "Take her, Take her!" he yelled out as her hands went down to grab you, pulling your limp body out of the water with a grunt onto the doc as Aaron pulled himself out, he straddled you without hesitation to check your pulse, "Shit, she's not breathing, her pulse is too weak." Emily sat down on her knees quickly, brushing your hair out of your face, tapping your cheeks, "Come on, pretty girl, don't do this to us!" Aaron just grunted and began chest compressions, alternating between compressions and breathing air into your lungs, he was terrified he'd lose you.
You couldn't move, that's all you knew, you barely even registered someone doing compressions on you, voices were muffled but there was yelling and then someone's lips against yours forcing air down your throat until you felt like you were choking, it took a whole 45 seconds to revive you from your unconscious state, one last breathe of air into you until you were keeling over with a lurch straight into Emily's arms, coughing up copious amounts of water from your lungs as she slapped at your back, her voice shaky, "Good girl, baby, cough it out, get it all out." She just breathed out in relief, giving Aaron a look as he sat up on his knees, closing his eyes with relief before getting up.
"We gotta get her warm." Aaron husked out quickly as he picked you up, you didn't have much fight left in you anyway to refuse as he carried you back to the inn and up to the room with Emily in tow. Emily immediately got to drawing a bath for you as Aaron sat you on the toilet lid with you shivering violently, his hands peeling off his own shirt while trying to keep you sat up and conscious before Emily helped him undress you, her voice soft as she spoke, "You both need to get warm, you can't stay in those clothes."
She took a breath at the sight of Aarons abs and your smaller frame, biting her lip as she knelt down to speak to you, "Hey, Y/N, if you can hear me, you and Aaron are gonna sit in that tub together, you have to get warm." She tried to warn you even though you were practically unresponsive, just giving weak whimpers back, before she helped Aaron pick you up and place you in the warm water. You were still shivering violently when Aaron sunk in behind you while Emily sat to the side, watching with concern as she looked at Aaron, "What was she thinking, going after the unsub like that? Especially to the docs- I just-"
"Emily, we cant control that now, all we can do is take care of her now and reprimand her when shes in better health." Aaron spoke out in a gravelly tone as he brushed your hair out of your face, as shameful as Aaron felt, to have your naked body so close and pressed up to his, it made him hard. He tried to shift his body to be respectful, but you were basically on his lap, he just bit his lip with a soft groan, closing his eyes as he pushed his cock between your inner thighs to rest there. Emily's pupils dilated as she watched, blushing as she shifted in her spot, "God, Aaron... I want her just as bad as you do."
Aaron just chuckled with a shake of his head as he tightened his hold on you, "I don't know about that, you can't feel how soft her skin is right now, Em." He husked out which only made Emily tilt her head at him with a small smirk, "Yeah? Well let's get our baby feeling better and hopefully, we'll both be able to feel her." She purred out. Aaron just nodded with a low groan, his eyes closing. You probably laid against Aaron in the bath for over an hour, at least until it got a bit cold until you were lifted up and wrapped in a fluffy robe before taken to bed and covered in at least three blankets with both Emily and Aaron holding you between them.
When morning came, you slowly woke to the sounds of breathy feminine moans and soft grunts, frowning as you squirmed at the feeling of the bed bouncing before rolling onto your side into Aaron, he felt so warm before you noticed his heavy breathes alongside Emily's, finally registering why the bed stopped moving once you opened your eyes. Emily was straddled on Aarons cock with her hands on his chest, she was riding him with you laid right next to them. They both were still, you were shocked until Emily spoke, "Hey baby, were sorry... we couldn't help it, we just-" Aaron cut her off by pulling you closer and meeting your lips in a hot kiss, mumbling out against your lips, "You scared us last night, babygirl... we thought we lost you. Never scare us like that again." He spoke out firmly, cupping your chin.
You just stared at them both, wide-eyed and with a blush, you didn't know what do to, its true you had developed a crush on the both of them, but you thought that just because they were the first male and female superiors you had, your mommy and daddy issues acting up, but no. Here you were laying beside them as they fucked. Emily just tucked your hair away before leaning down to kiss your forehead, "Shh baby, let Mommy and Daddy have our fun and then well tend to you." She husked out before moaning as she raised herself up on Aarons cock before sinking back down and building her pace again as she panted out, "You just watch baby."
You let out a soft whimper as you watched Emily ride Hotch, she was passionate, her hips rolling with every thrust of her hips down, Hotchs hands sliding up her waist before he gripped and thrust up to meet her, making them both moan as they joined together, Emily's tits bouncing as she only rode him harder and faster the closer they got to cumming together. Emily was experienced in her own pleasure, rubbing her clit as she sank up and down on Hotchs cock, her moans getting huskier as she closed her eyes before you saw hoe Hotch slid his hands to grip at her ass as a vice to thrust his hips up quicker, seeing how his cock would stretch her and disappear inside her with each slam of his hips up made you squirm, you were soaking wet seeing how they fucked, especially hearing Emily moan as she came.
Emily cried out as she came around Hotchs cock, causing him to groan out at the feeling as he came inside her, you watched as Emily lurched and trembled, her thighs shaking as her hips twitched, her cunt gripping around Hotchs cock tighter and tighter, spilling cum down his shaft before she slowly raised up and off his cock, his cum spilling out of her as she crawled onto you, untying your robe with a tender kiss to your lips, "Is this okay baby, are you okay with this?" Emily needed to make sure you were alright before she continued, but she was answered by a timid nod from you, making her smile, "Good girl." She hummed out before kissing you again, darting her tongue into your mouth as she slid her hand down between your thighs to feel your wetness, moaning when she did.
"Oh, Aaron, she's so wet for us... did watching us make you that excited baby?" she purred out with a devious smirk as she nudged her nose against yours and found your clit with her fingertips, rubbing little circles immediately, which made you moan out and arch, closing your eyes at the warm buildup of pleasure her fingers blessed you with before they were joined by another larger pare that prodded at your entrance, whining when you felt Aaron slip a finger inside your tight wetness while he leaned over to press his lips against your nipple to suck. The stimulation of Emily's fingers rubbing circles on your clit to Aaron pumping and curling his finger inside you to his lips wrapped around your nipple, it was enough to quickly make you cum in minutes.
Luckily, minutes were all Hotch needed to get hard again, I mean it wasn't difficult due to how adorable you sounded as you came. He was a sucker for you, secretly, he loved how small you were compared to him. Emily pulled away slightly to let Aaron sit up between your thighs, but what surprised you most was when he flipped you, forcing you onto your tummy in a arch as Emily settled in front of you, her legs spread as she guided you to her soaked cunt, her voice gentle but filled with lust, "Now baby, your gonna take Daddy's cock while you eat Mommy out, okay?" You just nodded with a blush, always so eager to please before your face was shoved into her pussy by Aarons hand on the back of your head.
You let out a cry when you felt Aarons cock push into you from behind, feeling the slow stretch of your wet little pussy stretching around his girthy cock made you tremble from the feeling, moaning into Emily's pussy which made her shiver from the stimulation on her clit before you felt Aaron start to thrust into you at a punishing pace, his cock rockhard as you felt him graze against your gspot with each thrust, your eyes rolling in pleasure with a groan into Emily's pussy as you tried to lap at her clit, but it was so hard with how good Aaron felt, his words making your pussy flutter around his cock, "Mmm... that's it, baby, take my cock. You were made for it, weren't you? Such a good girl."
"Yes, she is! Fuck- such a pretty mouth on her, eating mommy out like a good girl... yes baby, suck, suck for mommy!" Emily moaned out with her hand in your hair as she shoved your face harder against her cunt, feeling her orgasm close, crying out as she felt your lips wrap around her clit to suck, making her cum quick and hard, her grip tight on your hair as Aaron sped up his thrusts, making you whine. You felt his pace, rough and fast, his hips snapping against your ass with a slap to your ass as he praised you, sinking his cock deeper into you with every thrust, your ass so soft against his pelvis as he slammed into you with a groan, holding your hips tight as he emptied his seed into you, sending you spiraling into your own orgasm, trembling violently with a loud cry between the two of them as you clamped down on his cock.
"Oh fuck..." Aaron just groaned as he slowly pulled out of you, seeing his cum-covered cock twitching still as he finally slipped out of you, seeing his cum ooze out of your used little hole made him moan. You couldn't help the whimper that left your lips at the emptiness, but you were quickly pulled up into Emily's arms as she laid your head on her chest, kissing your head. "You did so well baby." Aaron nodded and kissed your back before laying down next to you two, speaking lowly, "You did love, so please, no more diving into cold waters... never scare us like that again, we couldn't stand losing you, Y/N..." You just nodded quietly, still recovering from the fear of the night before as you spoke, "I promise." That was all they needed to hear before you were snuggled back under the blankets by the two of them and attacked with many kisses.
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em-prentiss · 2 months
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No because how did Emily convince Mr-I’m-so-independent-I-don’t-like-anyone-taking-care-of-me to let her pick him up and drop him off in her car at least twice?? And what made her specifically reach out? He’s her boss, their relationship isn’t as ‘strong’ as her relationships with her colleagues, who are definitely her friends by now, but with Hotch you can tell there’s this boundary between him and everyone. You could argue that she wasn’t as close to him as say Dave, and out of all the others she’s known him the shortest.
I would give anything to have seen how that conversation went.
Emily: are you cleared to drive?
Hotch: yes
Emily: not on my watch, I’ll pick you up at 9
Hotch: …..
Emily: (eyebrow raise)
Hotch: whatever
I have no proof to back up this point but I am CERTAIN that if anyone else tried it he wouldn’t have let them. I don’t think any of them would have reached out in that way anyway.
Conclusion, he’s down bad your honor.
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hushedlover · 6 months
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an aaron hotchner x reader where she brings in their kid to the office!! i feel like this could be super cute!!
“Aw, look at her chubby little cheeks!”
Garcia squeals, making grabby hands at the little girl resting on your hip. You laugh and let the blonde woman take your toddler from your arms. The 2 year old claps in delight and immediately latches her hands onto the chunky necklace Garcia was wearing. She was like a crow, anything shiny immediately was in her hands.
“You did good, mama,” Derek smiles as he pulls you into a side hug. You grin up at him and hug him back.
“Thanks, Morgan. Any idea where Aaron is at?” You ask, smiling warmly as Spencer and JJ come over to coo at your little girl too.
“Last I saw, him and Rossi were talking in his office,” Derek chuckles as little Hotchner tugs on Reid’s hair. You smile as you watch her look over at the sound of the deep laugh, your baby immediately squealing at the sight of Uncle Derek.
Suddenly you’re being pulled into a warm chest from behind, strong arms wrapping around your waist to tug you backwards. You laugh softly as Aaron takes a deep breath with his nose pressed to your hair.
“My favorite girls,” He murmurs. “The best surprise.”
“Brought you lunch, too. Thought maybe we could do a picnic,” you hum back. It’s impossible not to lean back into his warmth and close your eyes, just resting like that for a moment.
“Maybe we could steal a few minutes for just us. I don’t think anyone is going to be letting our girl go for the next little bit,” Aaron says with a hint of a laugh in his voice. He watches as his team passes around your little girl, listening intently to the senseless babbles that make up the story she’s telling.
“Sounds perfect to me.”
Pulling out of Aaron’s arms, you grab his large hand and interlace your fingers. JJ catches your eye and send a wink along with a thumbs up, assuring you that she’d keep an eye on your baby girl. Tugging, you lead Aaron out of the bullpen with the team smirking and laughing at the two of you.
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aureliasfate · 6 months
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agentdilfhotchner · 3 months
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for my hotchniss people 🫶
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Could you do a hotchniss x daughter reader where they have a teen daughter and she sneakily has a boy over and aaron and Emily come back from a case and they catch him leaving her room and aaron goes into protective dad mode
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Aaron Hotchner X Emily Prentiss X Teen Daughter reader
Request: Could you do a hotchniss x daughter reader where they have a teen daughter and she sneakily has a boy over and aaron and Emily come back from a case and they catch him leaving her room and aaron goes into protective dad mode 
Third person pov...
Aaron Hotchner and Emily Prentiss had just returned from a particularly intense case in upstate New York. As they stepped off the plane, both agents were exhausted and eager to get back to their home in Virginia.
Little did they know, they were about to face one of their toughest challenges yet - parenting a teenage daughter.
Currently 16 year old Y/N was home alone, not entirely alone she had invited over her boyfriend, David to watch a movie knowing her parents would be on their way home.
They had already called to let her know they would be landing soon, the two had lots of fun spending the day together doing nothing but watching movies and raiding the kichen for snacks.
"Thank God we're back" Emily sighed as they made their way off the jet "I can't wait to sleep in my own bed."
Aaron chuckled, 'You and me both. I just hope our daughter hasn't wrecked the house while we were gone.'
Emily shot him a look, 'Our daughter is a responsible young lady. I'm sure she's been just fine without us.'
Say8ng goodbye to the rest of thw team they got into their car and drove home, but as they walked through the front door of their home.
They were met with a sight that made both of their hearts sink. In the living room, their 16-year-old daughter, Y/N, was cuddled up on the couch with a boy.
Aaron's eyes narrowed in an instant, and Emily could feel his protective instincts on high alert. The couple slowly made their way into the room, trying not to disturb the teenagers who were watching a movie.
As they got closer, they could see that the boy was not just any boy. It was David, a troublemaker from Y/N's school who they had explicitly told her to stay away from.
The teens where cuddled under a blanket, infront of them on thr coffee table were snacks and drinks, playing on the TV was (Favourite movie) Y/N never watches her favourite movie with just anyone.
The black haired woman looks at her husband and could reqd his mind, "Aaron" Emily whispered, trying to calm him down. 'Let's just talk to her." She took his hand in hers and held it.
This made the man relax slightly but a murderous look still on his face.
But before they could say anything, the movie ended and David stood up to leave, Y/N gave him a smile and stood up to hug and kiss him goodbye and sat back down on the sofa, neither teen had seen the two adults in the doorway.
The boy had a love sick grin on his face As he walked towards the door, Aaron stepped in front of him, blocking his path.
"What are you doing here?" Aaron's voice was low and menacing.
David, who previously exuded confidence, now looked like a deer caught in headlights. He mumbled something incoherent and quickly scrambled out of the house.
Emily took a deep breath and turned to her daughter, who was now standing, she had jumped up from the sofa when she hear heard her dad shout, she looked scared and guilty.
Emily crossed her arms and looked at her daughte "What were you thinking, Y/N?" She said, trying to keep her voice calm.
Y/N nervously played with her hands, not looling up at her parents and thwir disapointed look, "I'm sorry" Y/N replied, tears welling up in her eyes.
"I just really like him, and I knew you wouldn't approve" she sais tears running down her face.
Aaron let out a frustrated sigh and ran a hand through his hair. "That doesn't change the fact that we specifically forbid you from seeing him. He's not a good influence, and you know that"
Y/N shook her head, surprising her parents. "But he's not! He's actually really sweet and not at all like he appears! You always told me not to judge people and here you are doing it!" The teen yells.
She collapses onto the sofa her head in her arms. The adults looked at each other before at their cryjng daughter, they had judged the boy by appearences like she said.
Emily sat down next to her and put an arm around her shoulders. "I'm sorry Honey, you arw right we did judge him but appearance, but it still doesn't make if okay for you to sneak boys inside" she explains to the girl gently.
"Really" Y/N sniffled, wiping at her tears. Aaron knelt in front of her and took her hands in his. "We love you, Y/N. We just want what's best for you" he says gently to the girl.
Y/N nodded, "I promise, he isn't all that bad, just meet him yourself and you'll see!" She insisted.
The two look at each other then back down at their daughter. She does have a point they don't know anything about the boy.
Aaron sighed at the look his wife gave him. "Okay, we will get to know him, but if he hurts you in anyway tell him I've got a gun and knkw how to use it" Says Aaron a not happy smile on his face.
This made the girl laugh, Emily shakes her head at her husband. The couple hugged their daughter and assured her that she was forgiven.
As they talked and cuddled on the couch, Aaron couldn't help but feel grateful for his daughter's honesty and decided to trust her.
'We're going to have to keep a closer eye on her,' Emily said, sipping her tea. 'She's still young, and we can't afford to let her make mistakes like this.'
Aaron nodded, 'I know. It's just hard to believe that our little girl is already sneaking boys into her room.'
Emily chuckled, 'We were teenagers once too, Aaron. We can't expect her to be perfect. We just have to guide her and hope that she learns from her mistakes.'
As they sat in comfortable silence, both agents were reminded of the challenges of being parents to a teenager. But they also knew that they were a strong team and would do anything to protect their daughter, even if it meant going into protective dad mode every now and then.
The end!
Hope you liked this oneshot, sorry for thr wait on this request. As usual sorry for grammar and Spelling mistakes.
Requests are open!
Word count : 1133
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rawr-jess · 1 year
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Need I say more….
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alexblakegf · 3 months
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another hotchniss in secret relationship ig posts please 🫣🫣 I'm addicted to them <3
(I made these whilst it was really empty at work 😭)
Hotchniss soft launch on instagram stories
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taglist 🏷️:
@prentissesredtanktop @fanof051 @luhwithah @dj-bynum3718 @hopedoesntknow @momily @kenseverything @psychopath-at-heart @jjareau-cm
be added to my taglist here
send asks and requests here
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blakeprentiss · 3 months
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Aaron
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my gif | read on AO3
Aaron Hotchner x Emily Prentiss
summary: following a surprisingly emotional case for the usually well-tempered boss, hotch seeks out comfort in his favorite dark-haired agent, which obviously leads to a confession or two.
wc: 2335
warnings: none (?)
a/n: alternate ending to 7x10 the bittersweet science (the bloodlusting boxer). first fic i have written in two years pls be nice feedback is so appreciated xox enjoy!!
Any case involving kids is tough on the team, especially those who have one of their own. Factor in a young boy dying, however, and that’s enough to make move the usually stoic Aaron Hotchner to tears.
Which is exactly what was happening in that hospital room, Hotch having brought unsub Jimmy Hall to spend his last moments with his son. Standing far back enough to give the family some privacy, but still keeping an eye on the suspect of course, Hotch did his best to ignore the heartbreaking scene in front of him.
“You fought a hell of a fight, Ryan,” Hall spoke through sobs, his ex-wife a mess on the opposite side of the bed. Hotch felt it then, a salty droplet staining his face, and another one trickling to the floor. His expression never changed, however, doing as much as he could to maintain his professional look.
Emily and Rossi had met Hotch and Spencer at the hospital after learning of the outcome of Hall’s match, citing their presence as a second duo to help escort the unsub back to the precinct. In reality, Emily’s brain had gone on autopilot, creating such an excuse to mask her real reason for coming. She knew what Hotch would be feeling in those moments in that room, and she couldn’t bear for him to deal with it alone, if he even did at all.
Rossi didn’t mind this, of course. He always sensed the romantic tension between the two since his first day back in the unit, him and the other 5 team members having a bet going on how long it would take for the spark to finally be ignited. So, when he and Emily reached Spencer in the hallway outside of the Hall room, the three agents lined up against the wall.
Spencer made a bit of small talk about the case that had now begun the closing process, but in all honesty, Emily didn’t hear a word that was said. Her eyes were fixated on the man opposite the small pane of glass, his emotionless expression unwavering.
The three of them heard the unwelcome tone of the monitor flatlining, looking amongst each other solemnly. Minutes later, the door was opening as Hotch wheeled the unsub out of the room. Wordlessly, Rossi took the chair from the other man and begun leading him towards his own room, while Spencer brought his ex-wife in the opposite direction to console here. Aaron replaced Spencer’s position next to Emily on the wall, his eyes fixating on a painting across from the two of them.
“Rossi said he would take care of all the paperwork at the precinct and close up,” Emily spoke, turning to look at the man next to her. If she looked close enough, she could see the faint tear stain on his left cheek. “Let’s go back to the hotel, I’ll drive.”
Aaron nodded, wordlessly beginning to walk with Emily towards where she had left the car just hours before. Their hands found each other as soon as the hospital door closed, making both of their heart rates jump ever so slightly, though both would just chalk it up to the events of the night.
Aaron, ever the gentleman, opened the driver’s side door for Emily before slipping into the seat beside her. He wasn’t surprised by the blush creeping up her cheeks, he noticed it the first time he made the same gesture all those years ago. She turned on the car and begun the short drive back to their hotel. Classical music quietly played through the car radio, and Emily often turned to look at Hotch. She would see him staring out the window each time, but that’s because she was focused on the road each time he would steal a glance.
Soon enough, the pair arrived at the hotel, making their way to the elevator. The ride to the 12th floor was short, but felt like eternity for the two of them. Both lost in their own thoughts about love and life and death, neither noticed how close the other was until their arms brushed against each other. Aaron turned to Emily and looked down at her, a ghost of a smile on his face. A sad smile, but one nonetheless. She looked up, and he could sense the concern in her eyes.
“Thank you for the ride back, Prentiss,” he said softly, his brain itching to brush the fallen piece of hair behind her ear.
“You don’t have to thank me, Hotch,” Emily laughed quietly. “That’s what teammates are for.” She immediately had to hold back a wince at her word choice, knowing damn well she just friendzoned her boss. Then again, she didn’t feel as if this was the time or place to confess to feelings she’d been harboring for nearly five years. “Will you be alright tonight?” She asked to change the subject, out of concern for both her dignity and her boss’ mental state.
“I always am, Prentiss,” Hotch spoke as the elevator came to a stop. The two walked down the same hallway, Emily stopping at her door first. “Goodnight, Emily. Get some rest,” Aaron said softly, his hand brushing against Emily’s back in a way that toed the line of professionalism.
Emily did her best to not freeze at the touch of her boss in what some would consider to be quite a sensual spot. “Thank you, you too,” she managed to get out in a relatively normal tone. “Goodnight, Aaron.” Hotch gave Emily a nod before retreating to his own room, just a few doors down.
The first thing Emily did when entering her room for the night was turn the shower on and dig through her go-bag for the most comfortable clothing she could find. Hopping into the shower, she let the near-boiling water run over her skin as if she was trying to cook away the details of this case. After standing in the shower for what very well could’ve been over an hour, she stepped out and put on her clothes. She was just about to get into bed when there was a knock at her door. Assuming it would be JJ, she didn’t bother throwing on a hoodie before opening the door.
That felt like a mistake to her when she found Aaron opposite the door frame. It felt even worse when she became painfully aware that his eyes were briefly on her low cut, extremely cropped red tank top, which left hardly anything to imagination. And then she watched his eyes make their way to her low-rise sweatpants. Truly she could never feel more embarrassed than in that moment.
“Is everything alright?” Emily asked as she brought her arms up to her chest, itching to draw attention away from her. “Do we have another case?”
“No, no new case,” Hotch spoke quietly, meeting Emily’s gaze. “Do you mind if I just come in for a bit?” He looked away, almost embarrassed to be seeking out company from his subordinate at such an hour. Emily didn’t see it that way, of course, mainly because she could feel the emotions radiating off of Aaron.
“Of course you can,” she smiled and moved out of the way to let the older man in. Shutting the door, they both moved to sit on the edge of the king-sized bed. The pair sat in silence, but it was comfortable - neither felt any pressure to speak like they would if they were in the presence of anyone else. After a while, however, Emily wanted to say something, she just didn’t know what. She turned to look at the man next to her, who she found staring at the wall as tears slowly fell. “Oh, Aaron,” she sighed, putting her hand to his face and turning him to look at her. Her heart damn near broke at seeing him in such pain, the feeling reminiscent of when she had been there for him after he had lost Haley. She pulled him into a hug instinctively, his head seeking solace on her chest as she rubbed soothing circles into his skin. Neither were aware of the eroticism behind the position in that moment, both focused on the hurt and comforting in the present.
“I have no idea why this is affecting me so deeply,” Aaron laughed. “It’s not funny,” he added after seeing the woman’s puzzled look at his chuckle. “I usually have no true emotional reaction when cases involve kids, or the kids of unsubs, but this time I did and I can’t figure out why.”
His hands felt around until it found hers once again, the two of them grasping at each other like it was a lifeline.
“I think it’s because you saw that boy dying and it triggered you to think about what could’ve happened that day,” Emily said, looking at Aaron as he wiped a tear from his face. She didn’t have to specify what day or who could’ve died, they both knew what she meant.
“Doesn’t help that Dave’s been up my ass about dating too,” Aaron added, grabbing Emily’s attention even more. She couldn’t possibly figure out how that had to do with the idea of Jack dying. “He’s been pushing me to date since it’s been almost two years since Haley died, and I think you’re right, the details of this case must have triggered something in me.”
”Grief hits us in the least expecting places,” Emily commented.
“That it does,” Aaron agreed, turning his gaze back to the way. Emily did the same, and the two were silent again for a while.
“Rossi’s right though,” Emily said after a while, eyes staring at the same spot on the wall as the man next to her. “You probably should start dating again.”
“I’ve already had my eye on someone for a while,” Aaron said softly. This time it was him turning to look at the younger woman, using his hand to bring her head towards him before she even had a chance to react to his words. “And I know she’s been doing the same.”
“Really?” Emily asked, feigning innocence. “How do you know she’s into you?”
”There’s a reason they made me the leader of this team,” Aaron said, the insinuation that Emily doubted his ever so present profiling skills making her blush. “But in all honesty, she’s always there when I need her most, even if I don’t realize it myself at the time.” Emily smiled softly at that moment, her cheeks nearly burning as she used her free hand to fiddle with the waistband of her pants. “Plus, she loves to wear a certain red tank top on days when I have a perfect view,” Aaron added, making Emily laugh. His face moved closer to hers, as if asking for permission. Emily nodded and not a moment later, his lips were on hers, encapsulating them in a soft yet passionate kiss.
They broke apart after a while, when it got to the point when air became necessary. “Thank you,” Aaron smiled at her, wrapping his arms around Emily.
“For kissing you?” Emily joked softly. “I’m kidding, I know what you meant,” she added, pulling him into a hug. “I will always be there for you, no matter what.” Her hands ran through his hair, his making their way to the small of her back. “Would you like to stay the night?” She asked. Realizing how suggestive that sounded, especially after the past few minutes, she added quickly, “That way you don’t have to be alone tonight.”
“I’d like that, thank you, Em,” Aaron smiled. The two broke away, climbing under the covers. Their bodies drew to each other like magnets do to metals, reaching for each other until it was impossible to move any further.
“Is that really what gave it away?” Emily asked, moving her head into his chest as the two settled down for the night. “The red tank top?”
”Sort of, but it’s not what really confirmed my thoughts.”
“Well, what was it then?” Emily asked, wanting to know her tell.
”You called me Aaron today,” he said, planting a kiss to her temple. “Twice actually. You hadn’t done that since you found me in the hospital after Foyet got to me, and then again after Haley. And it slips out sometimes when we’re in private.”
”Oh,” Emily said sheepishly, a smile creeping up her face. “I guess I didn’t really try too hard to keep it professional.”
”Oh I didn’t mind one bit,” Aaron laughed, putting his arm around his girl, feeling her breathing even out as they both drifted to sleep.
***
”So, have you taken my advice?” Rossi asked, sitting across from Hotch on the jet. With the case closed and nothing but paperwork to look forward to at the office, the team resorted to their favorite pastime of gossiping. Today’s topic of conversation seemed to have focused itself on the boss man’s dating life, as it so happened to be recently.
“You’ll be happy to know I have a date on Friday,” Aaron said simply, his attention not leaving his paperwork. Emily’s attention was piqued, however, her eyes raising up from her book.
“Atta boy Hotch!” Morgan said excitedly, clapping Aaron’s back from the next seat over. “Who’s the lucky lady?”
“You hardly know her,” Aaron commented, eliciting a scoff from a certain blonde across the table.
“I saw what room you went into last night,” JJ said, causing eyes to fall on the only other woman on the jet.
“That was for work business only!” Emily exclaimed. It technically wasn’t a lie, he had come in to discuss the feelings regarding the case.
“Em, I saw him leave your room late this morning when I came back from the gym,” JJ said, eliciting a blush from the raven haired woman as she nudged her.
“Aw man!” Morgan yelled, drawing the attention to himself. “Penelope owes me 50 bucks!”
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sequinsmile-x · 18 hours
Text
Bezel
He couldn't fix or change her past, but he could give her this.
-x-
Hi friends,
As we all know, I have a very famous lack of control. The lovely @eyesontheskyline posted a gif set and made a comment about Emily's giant watch in 2x20, my mind went haywire and once again here we are.
Anyway, I hope you enjoy this - please let me know what you think <3
-x-
Words: 3.5k
Warnings: Mentions/references to loss of a parent
Read over on Ao3, or below the cut
Emily sighs contently as she takes a sip of her beer, the coolness of it removing any last bits of tension in her shoulders that the case they’d resolved had created.
“Are you okay, sweetheart?”
She turns her head to look at Aaron and smiles as their eyes meet, his eyes soft in a way they rarely were outside of either of their homes or the hotel rooms they shared. There was something strangely empowering about him looking at her like that in front of their friends and it warms her from the inside out. She nods and reaches for his hand that is slung over her shoulders, linking their fingers together as she leans in to kiss him, the taste of the scotch he was drinking passing from his lips to hers. She smiles into the kiss when she hears the others groan, making a point of deepening it for a moment before she pulls away, squeezing his hand tightly as she leans in further to his side. 
“Okay, we get it, you guys are adorable,” Dave says dryly, a fond glint in his eyes as they both turn to look at him, “I think I preferred it when you two were pretending not to like each other.” 
“I didn’t,” Penelope says, her glee at seeing them together obvious, her entire body practically vibrating with it. Her gaze drifts to Emily’s bare wrist and her smile drops, the corners of her lips turning downwards into a slight pout, “Sorry about your watch, Peaches.” 
Emily looks at her wrist, her bare skin peeking out from underneath the sleeve of her shirt. Her watch had been damaged during the takedown of the unsub, the glass face of it smashed against the wall as he tried to evade arrest and shoved her out of his way. She’d cried out when it happened, more in shock at being pushed than anything else, her worst injury a slight graze of her palm against the brick wall, but it had been enough for Aaron to overreact. Her usually reserved and stoic boyfriend had briefly forgotten where they were and gone out of his way to make sure she was okay, barrelling into the room she was in as if he’d heard a gunshot, accidentally revealing their relationship to the team as he checked her over for injuries that didn’t exist. 
It was why she’d allowed herself to get dragged into going for drinks with the team when all she wanted to really do was snuggle up with Aaron in his bed or hers. The news had travelled fast and Penelope had called her before the unsub was even in the back of a cop car, demanding they all went out when they landed back in DC because she wanted to see them.  Aaron had been hesitant, his embarrassment at overreacting clear, but Emily had talked him into it. Her smile and a promise of later enough to convince him a few drinks with their friends was a good thing. 
They’d told them what they wanted to hear, answering their friend's questions in a way that still allowed them to keep their privacy. Emily felt a certain sense of pride blooming in her chest when they told them they’d been together 8 weeks without anyone noticing, although Dave claimed to have known the entire time. Even though Emily knew they would both miss their relationship just being for them, she liked sharing it with the people she cared about. It made it feel impossibly more real - the three words she hadn’t said outloud yet, the three he hadn’t said either, on the tip of her tongue. 
“Oh, that’s okay,” she says, smiling as her gaze drifts to where her hand is linked with Aaron’s for a second before she looks back up at her friends, “It wasn’t expensive. I have plenty of others” 
“Are you talking you expensive, or regular person expensive, Princess?” Derek asks, hiding a grin behind his beer, “Because those are two different things.” 
She laughs humourlessly as she makes a point of rolling her eyes. She makes eye contact with Penelope again and sighs when she sees that she still seems worried, a crease between her brows that lets Emily know her friend is still thinking about the smashed watch in her go-bag. 
“I mean it, Pen,” she assures her, “It’s just a watch, it’s not like held any great sentimental value.” 
There’s something about the way she says it that makes Aaron pause, his brows furrowing for just a second as he looks down at her, a smile still fixed on her face as she carries on talking to Penelope. Emily had always been very purposeful with everything she’d ever said. She’d been taught at an early age that words mattered, that everything had weight to it. She was never calculated, but she never said anything she didn’t mean, so it makes him curious and leaves him wondering if she meant that she did have a watch that held sentimental value. He files it away for later, sure that whatever it was it was something she wouldn’t want to share with the team. 
When they get back to his apartment, it’s late. They shower together, their laughter and muffled groans lost under the roar of the water, neither one of them wanting to wake Jack up by mistake. By the time they climb into bed, Emily is tired, her body relaxed and sated as she crawls half on top of him, her eyes already closed as she relaxes into his embrace. He hauls her closer and smiles as she giggles, a sound she’d deny if he ever brought it up, her hand fisted in his t-shirt as she anchors herself to him. 
“Can I ask you something?” He asks, his lips against her forehead as he trails his hand up and down her back. She hums as she settles further into his embrace, her arm over his waist and her leg over his hips. 
“Always,” she murmurs, turning her head just enough to kiss his chest, “But make it quick, the combination of the beer and your magic touch is sending me to sleep.”
Aaron chuckles and kisses her forehead, taking a moment to breathe her in before he asks the question he’d been thinking of since they were in the bar, “Earlier, you said the watch you broke today wasn’t sentimental. Does that mean you have one that is?” 
A part of her wonders if she should be annoyed that he noticed, that he was so good at his job it bled into their personal lives, but she can’t bring herself to be. Instead, she realises she wants to tell him, that she wants to reveal another part of herself to him simply because he’d asked.
“Do you remember that big watch I had?” She asks, her gaze locked on the wall of his bedroom, “It had a leather strap, the face of it was wider than my wrist.” 
He nods before realising she isn’t looking at him, “I remember.” 
“It was my dad’s watch. When he died…” she clears her throat and presses her lips together, giving herself a moment before she carries on, “My mom gave it to me. I kept it and one day I couldn’t find my watch so I wore it to work,” she lifts her head to look up at him, her hands on his chest as she rests her chin on them, “It was huge on me. Big and impractical and so obviously not made for me,” she chuckles, “But it made me feel weirdly close to him. Which probably sounds insane.” 
“It doesn’t,” he says, tucking some of her hair behind her ear, smiling encouragingly at her as she leans into the touch, “It doesn’t sound insane at all,” he assures her and her response is to turn her head to kiss his palm, “What happened to it?”
He’d picked up on how she was talking about it in the past tense, had seen the wistful look in her eyes as she thought about the watch. She smiles sadly and slips one of her hands into his, pressing their palms together to test the size difference. 
There was something comforting about how big he was in comparison to her, something about it that made her feel safe. She didn’t need him to protect her, didn’t need him to hold her together, but she wanted him to. She wanted to share things with him that she’d never shared with anyone because she knew nothing would scare him off. He’d seen the very worst of her and he was still here, he still wanted to know more. 
“It was sold with everything else when I died,” she says carefully, making sure to link their fingers together as she says it, hoping the way she squeezes his hand lets him know she doesn’t blame him, his guilt for making that decision for her still lingering every time it was mentioned, “I was surprised Mother didn’t take it - she was the one who got it for him. But…she had all my things sold,” she smiles sadly, a shaky breath slipping past her lips as she thinks about it. About how her mother had all but wiped any memory of her from the face of the earth. She knew it was likely a defence mechanism, a way of dealing with the fact her only child was dead, but Emily liked to think if it had been her she’d have made a different decision. 
Aaron drags her in for a quick kiss, his hand on her cheek as he encourages her closer to him, unable to bear to not kiss her any longer, “I’m sorry, sweetheart. You deserved better than that.” 
She smiles and kisses him, letting her lips linger against his for a moment longer than necessary as she tries to convince herself that he’s right, drawing the comfort from him that only he had ever truly been able to provide. 
“I never understood their relationship. They loved each other, just not in the way I ever wanted to love someone,” she says, looking down at his chest again, at the random patterns she was drawing on his shirt as she willfully ignores the fact they hadn’t told each other how they felt yet. The words unspoken but felt in everything they did for each other, a gentle kind of love they both thought was beyond them, “Mom got Dad the watch for his 40th birthday. It had this engraving on the back of it - See You in Paris,” she smiles sadly as she sighs, “It was their favourite place. It’s where I always remember them being at their happiest.” 
“Paris?” 
She laughs, an edge of bitterness to it as she nods, “Yeah, Paris,” she says, her eyebrow raised as she looks at him, “The universe has a sense of humour apparently.”  
There’s so much he wants to say, an apology he knows she won’t accept trapped in his chest as he stares at her, but in the end he settles on kissing her, pulling back just enough to speak as he rests his forehead against hers.
“Thank you for telling me.” 
She smiles, familiar love for him burning in her chest, desperately trying to escape as she presses her lips together to hold it in place, still worried it was too soon to say anything. 
“Thank you for asking,” she replies quietly, kissing him once more before she rests her head on his chest, sighing contentedly as he wraps his arms around her. He immediately re-starts running his hand up and down her back, the warmth of him drawing her in, making her feel heavy and light in equal measure, “Goodnight, honey.” 
He hides a smile in her hairline as she yawns and he kisses her forehead, “Goodnight, sweetheart.” 
He lays there as she falls asleep against him, an idea forming in his mind before he joins her, his grip on her never loosening.
___
Aaron pauses outside Penelope’s office, his hand frozen in place as he hesitates to knock, wondering if he is making the right decision. Before he can talk himself out of it the door swings open and Penelope shrieks, her eyes wide as she places her hand on her chest. 
“Sir, sorry,” she says, clearing her throat before she steps back to let him into her office, “I wasn’t expecting to see you.” 
“That’s okay,” he says as he closes the door behind him, “I wanted to ask you something-”
“If this is about the checks I did on Henry’s school, I was only checking if-”
“No, it’s not about…” he frowns as he trails off, raising his eyebrow at her, “Should it be about that?” 
She shakes her head, “No definitely not,” she says, taking a seat at her desk, “How can I help?” 
He sighs, scratching the back of his head, hesitancy he doesn’t like washing over him, “If I ask you to look for something for me, can it just be between us?” 
Penelope’s eyes go wide, the idea of being in on a secret exciting her, “Of course,” she says, before she gasps, her eyes somehow even wider, “Is this Emily related?” 
He hides a groan as he shoves his hands into his pockets, “Yes.” 
Penelope covers her mouth, physically holding her excitement in as she shifts closer to him on her chair, “Oh my god, are you going to propose?” She asks, and he glares at her, his stern gaze forcing her to calm down, “Okay, no proposal…yet,” she says, “How can I help?” 
“When Emily…” he clears his throat, “When she died all of the things in her estate were sold on in an auction. Do you think you could track one of those things down for me?” 
He sees the flash of pain across her face, how she struggles to push it away before she nods, “Just tell me what you need bossman, and I’ll find it.” 
He smiles gratefully at her and pulls a slip of paper out of his pocket, all of the details about the watch written down on it, “And remember-”
“Not a word of this to Peaches or anyone else,” she says as she takes the piece of paper from him, a sense of determination overtaking her as she turns back to her computer, and he knows this is one secret Penelope Garcia will keep.
___
“Are you sure I can’t help with anything?” Emily asks, smiling as Aaron meets her eyes from  where he’s standing. His sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, giving her a delicious hint of his forearms, the muscles shifting under his skin from where he’s washing dishes. 
“I’m all done, sweetheart,” he says, reaching for a dish towel and drying off his hands, “Do you need more wine?”
She shakes her head and grumbles, “What I need is my boyfriend to come over here and make out with me.” 
He chuckles and nods, pulling one of the drawers in his kitchen open, blowing out a quick breath before he lifts the large jewellery box out from where he’d hidden it under a towel. The search for the watch had been a little tricker than he’d hoped. In the last couple of weeks, he’d almost given up hope, and at times he’d only been bolstered by Penelope’s seemingly unending optimism that she’d find it. When she did she’d called him, her excitement so loud Emily had heard her from his phone while standing on the other side of the room. He’d brushed off her curiosity and was grateful when she didn’t ask any further questions. The nerves he’d felt when he first thought of doing this for her return in full throttle as he walks over to the couch, a piece of her history gripped firmly in his hand. 
“Before we get to that,” he says, sitting next to her, holding the box out so she can see it, “I got you something.” 
She hums curiously and sits up straight, placing her glass of wine down before she takes the box from him, “I haven’t forgotten our 10-week anniversary or something have I?” 
He chuckles and shakes his head, his hand heavy and warm on her thigh, “Is that a thing?” 
She shrugs, “If it is, I owe you a blow…” she drifts off, her joke dying in her throat as she opens the box, her mouth hanging open as he looks at the watch. She chokes on a laugh as she looks between him and the watch, words escaping her for a moment as she shakes her head, the conversation they’d had a couple of weeks ago coming back to her, “They don’t even make this model anymore.” 
Aaron squeezes her thigh as he watches her run her finger over the bezel, her touch delicate as if she’d damage the steel, “It’s not a duplicate sweetheart,” he says gently, his smile soft as she looks up at him, her eyes shining, “It’s your dad’s.” 
She frowns as she pulls the watch out of the box and turns it over, her breath catching in her chest as she looks at the engraving on the back, as if she hadn’t quite believed him until she saw it. 
See You In Paris
She presses her thumb into it, and feels the dips and curves of the metal, a habit she’d picked up when her mother first gave it to her. One of the few ways she felt close to her father after she lost him. She looks up at Aaron, her vision blurry as tears push at the back of her eyes. 
“Aaron…” she breathes out, his name caught on a sound somewhere between a sob and a laugh, “How did you find this?” 
He shrugs as if it’s nothing, as if he hasn’t just given her back a piece of herself she thought was lost, “I asked Garcia to help,” he says, smiling when her eyes get wider, “She found the guy who bought it and I bought it back from him.” 
She holds the watch tightly as if it would disappear and presses it against her chest. She closes her eyes and blows out a shaky breath. She places her other hand over her mouth, her fingers pressed against her lips as she tries to gather herself, her nerves shot at the unexpected kindness and love he’d shown her. 
He watches her carefully, his eyes fixed on her face as she sits perfectly still, the watch grasped against her chest and her eyes screwed shut. Anxiety bubbles in his gut and he squeezes her leg, “Sweetheart, if this was a bad idea-”
“I love you,” she says, her eyes flying open as she cuts over him. Tears splash down onto her cheeks as she laughs and shakes her head. She looks at the watch and then back at him, her spare hand cupping his cheek as she drags him into a kiss, “This is…this is the best thing anyone has ever done for me. And I love you so much.” 
He smiles and hugs her close, her hand with the watch still clasped in it pressed in between them. He kisses her temple and then her cheek before he tilts her head up to kiss him.
“I love you too,” he replies, kissing her again, “I love you.” 
She laughs, the sound wet as it sticks in her throat, and he wipes some tears from her cheeks, “Thank you,” she says, the words not feeling anywhere close to enough as she rests her forehead against his, “This is…” she blows out a shaky breath, “Thank you.” 
“You don’t have to thank me,” he says, pressing a kiss to her forehead, “I can’t give you the 7 months you lost back,” he says, tucking some of her hair behind her ear, “And I can’t undo anything you’ve been through,” he wraps his hand around the one holding the watch, “But I can do this.” 
She shakes her head at him and rests her cheek on his shoulder, “I love you,” she says again, the words she’d been afraid of saying for weeks suddenly the only thing she could say, slipping past her lips with ease now she’d said them. 
“I love you too,” he repeats, running his hand up and down her back. She sinks into his embrace, her eyes closed as she breathes him in.
“I can’t believe Pen didn’t let it slip,” she says as she pulls back, wiping her cheeks, “She’s terrible with secrets.” 
He laughs loudly, the sound reverberating around them and he nods, “Well, I think I won’t be so lucky if I get her to help me propose when the time comes.”
She presses her lips together to stop her smile from getting any wider, the thought of marrying him, even this early on in their relationship, not scaring her as she knows it would with anyone else, “I think she might surprise you.” 
When they get married 18 months later, Aaron wears her father’s watch, the weight of it against his wrist feeling like a promise as he watches Emily walk towards him. 
-x-
I think I might have to add 'watch' to the list of inanimate objects I've made emotional thanks to these two...
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cloudlessly-light · 2 months
Note
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.
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hotchnisslvr · 28 days
Text
come home with me
pairing: emily prentiss/aaron hotchner
rating: t
category: angst, hurt/comfort with a happy ending
word count: 7.2k
summary: An alternate version of "Faceless, Nameless," where Foyet leaves Hotch to bleed out in his apartment and Emily finds him clinging to life. Her quick response saves his life but causes her to question her own decisions in the hours leading up to finding him. Hotchniss. Hurt/comfort with sweet ending. Some angst.
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Emily yawns and wishes she’d taken that second cup of coffee for the road this morning when she’d left the office. As the elevator dings, she steps out onto the carpeted hallway. If he slept through his alarm while the rest of us are out working this case, I’m going to kill him, she thinks as she stifles another yawn.
She checks her phone and surprise, there’s no new texts, voicemails, or emails from Hotch. She selects his contact and hits dial, bringing the phone to her ear as she scans the identical doors for his apartment number.
You’ve reached SSA Aaron Hotchner— Emily groans out loud and snaps her phone shut, cutting off his voicemail, her irritation starting to border on anger. This wasn’t like Hotch, ignoring his phone. Sure they’d all been exhausted last night, but to the point he sleeps this late into the morning and doesn’t bother to answer his phone? No, something wasn’t right. She could feel it in her gut.
She should’ve gone home with him when he offered, but she knew how they operated when a case was over and they settled in for the night. One glass of wine would lead to another and, well, very little sleep would be had for either of them. She’d been so physically, mentally, and emotionally drained after Canada…just the thought of it now felt like a weight dragging down her shoulders. No, she’d needed to be alone; to shower and wash off the sick and twisted vestiges of the horrors she and the team had discovered on that pig farm.
After turning Hotch down, she’d smiled at him and winked and told him they could go and get a late breakfast once they’d had the opportunity to catch up on sleep. Now, a part of her was glad they’d caught a case. He probably would’ve slept through breakfast, anyway, she thought irritably. Ok, she wasn’t actually glad they’d caught a case. This one was a doozy and they needed every pair of eyes they could get if they were going to keep the doctor and his son safe; and they were running out of time. She hated cases that involved kids, no matter how old. They didn’t deserve the trauma that would result from having their own or their loved ones' lives threatened.
Finally, Hotch’s apartment comes into view. She tucks her phone into her jacket pocket and rapps her knuckles against the door.
“Hotch, it’s Emily,” she calls and knocks again. She pauses, straining her ears for the sound of shuffling footsteps. Her brow furrows when there is only continued silence.
“Hotch?” she repeats, this time there’s a question in the way she says his name. She knocks again, harder. Rolling her eyes, she digs her phone back out of her pocket and redials his number. A phone rings on the other side of the door, but there is no sound that suggests someone was moving toward it.
Emily’s stomach turns as dread begins to pool in her belly. The hair on the back of her neck stands on end as a sinking feeling takes hold. Her hand drifts to her gun instinctively; her thumb hooking over the rotating hood and releasing her sidearm. As she removes the weapon, she uses her other hand to reach for the doorknob. Before she even attempts to turn it, she knows it will open.
Hotch never leaves his door unlocked.
She pushes the door open and readies her weapon, quickly moving side to side as she sweeps the room for an immediate threat. Hotch’s keys, phone, and bag are on the coffee table and sofa as if he’d just arrived home but she didn’t see him in her initial glances over the open concept apartment. As she continues her sweep, her ears pick up on the sound of soft wheezing.
That same sinking feeling grows as she crosses through the living room and it’s then she sees the bullet hole in the wall and the glass shattered on the floor. She pushes through the feeling of dread, effectively burying it knowing she needs to be alert and prepared for whatever lay beyond the sofa. Hoping for an incapacitated unsub, but knowing better, her world still shatters as she takes in the sight of her friend, supervisor, and lover unconscious and bloody on the linoleum tiled floor.
She drops to her knees and feels for his pulse with two fingers. It’s faint, but there. “Hotch,” she calls his name and holsters her gun, determining the assailant is no longer present.
His dark lashes flutter. “That’s it,” she says encouragingly, “Open your eyes, Aaron. It’s me. It’s Emily.”
“Emily,” he whispers weakly.
She pulls out her phone again and dials 911. Placing it on speaker, she sets the phone down next to Hotch and begins unbuttoning his shirt to further assess the damage.
The operator answers and Emily cuts them off. “This is Agent Emily Prentiss with the FBI.” She grimaces as she haphazardly untucks the rest of his shirt and pushes the fabric out of her way. “I am at The Langham apartment complex, apartment 121. I’m here with SSA Aaron Hotchner. He’s suffered multiple stab wounds. I need paramedics and a crime scene unit sent here immediately.”
Her eyes rapidly scan the woulds, trying to assess which is the worst. God, there is so much blood. Shrugging out of her blazer, she balls the fabric in her fists and applies pressure to the two wounds that appear deepest, those to his abdomen and chest.
Aaron moans and she apologizes. “I know it hurts, just hold on. Help is coming.”
“Paramedics are seven minutes out,” dispatch states over the receiver.
She wants so desperately to hold his face in her hands, to be comforting him instead of causing more pain, but she needs to get the bleeding under control until help arrives.
Hotch’s lashes flutter again and his head lolls to the side where she is kneeling. “Foyet,” he breathes.
Emily’s eyes widen. “The Reaper is here, in DC?”
“I don’t—” his breath rattles as he wheezes. “He was waiting for me.”
“Did he say anything?” She asks as she adjusts her grip on the jacket she’s using to staunch the bleeding, of which is already seeping through the fabric. She curses under her breath, though the sound of sirens can finally be heard in the distance.
“Emily, if I don’t ma—”
“Don’t,” she interrupts, her voice catching. “Don’t even think about finishing that sentence, Aaron. You’re going to be fine.”
The sirens are deafening now and she knows they’re pulling up outside. She smiles and releases a short laugh. “They’re here,” she says. “Hold on, Hotch. Just a little longer.”
He blinks slowly, trying to focus on her. “He told me I should’ve,” his eyes close momentarily and then open, “that I should’ve made a deal.”
Her brow pinches, but she doesn’t have time to push further as the paramedics come crashing through the door.
“Over here!” she calls.
Immediately they try to take over. “Ma’am, it’s ok,” the female medic says. “You can take your hands off of him.”
It takes a moment for her voice to register, but Emily does as she is told. She releases the pressure she’d been holding to his injuries, and rolls back on to her heels into a standing position to give them space.
“Heart rate is elevated, pressure is dropping.” The medic evaluates. “Start an IV and hang pressors.”
Emily watches them work, her pulse pounding in her ears. While one pushes the IV into his arm, the other fastens a brace around his neck before moving on to snip away what’s left of his shirt and begin packing the knife wounds with gauze. It’s like the world is moving in slow motion. She doesn’t even register when her phone rings until the medic brings her attention to it. She blinks hard and apologizes. She bends down and scoops it into her hand, smearing blood across the screen as she flips it open. She curses as Spencer’s name flashes under the smudge. She turns her wrist to glance at her watch. It’s been forty five minutes and she told Reid that she’d be back in under thirty.
She wastes no time explaining the situation. Reid reports understanding. Before she hangs up she says, “Reid, it’s bad.” For the first time since finding him, tears choke her voice. “I’ll call Penelope at the hospital, but do not tell the others. You all need to focus on the case.”
Emily hastily hangs up and moves to follow the paramedics as they maneuver the gurney through the apartment.
They stop though as Hotch asks them to wait, his voice imperceptible. His hand falls limply off the gurney and Emily steps in, taking it into hers.
“What did he leave?” he asks, though his voice is muddled by the oxygen mask that’s been placed over his mouth and nose. “What did he take?”
“I-I don’t,” she stammers in response. The Reaper’s profile flashes through her mind’s eyes. The glasses, the wedding ring, he always takes and he always gives. “I don’t know, Hotch.”
She nods to the medics, signaling them to keep moving. Emily doesn’t drop his hand. As long as she can feel the warmth of his skin on hers, she knows he’s alive. That he’s still here.
Crime techs and police units are pulling up to the building as they load Hotch into the back of the ambulance. Emily watches on from her seat, anxiety clawing at her insides as she does her best to stay out of the paramedics’ way as they continue to work on stabilizing Hotch.
The blaring sirens echo in her head, rattling around and bouncing off of her skull. It’s not a sound she’s unfamiliar with, but today it’s drone seems more of a death march than a rally cry. The cavalry isn’t coming to save the day, but rather fleeing from death’s grip.
The ambulance comes to a grating stop and the medics waste no time flinging open the doors and pushing Hotch out. Emily follows quickly and as doctors and nurses swarm the gurney, arms reach out to halt her movement.
Emily cranes her neck around the woman that’s stopped her, pushing against her as she tries to follow the team of doctors that have disappeared behind two swinging double doors.
“No, I have to follow him. I’m an FBI agent,” she states, attempting to leverage some form of authority over the situation.
“Ma’am, he’s being rushed to surgery. I need to make sure you’re alright. Where are you injured?”
Emily’s face screws up, her lips turning and brow furrowing. “Injured? I’m not—” It’s then she catches a glimpse of her reflection in the lobby window. Her face is smeared with Hotch’s blood. Like pieces of a puzzle falling into place, her eyes drop to her hands, which are covered front and back with blood. The red substance stains the skin on her arms as well as the entire front of the dressy tank top she’d been wearing under her blazer. “It’s not mine,” she finally says.
The nurse’s face softens and Emily hates the way her eyes fill with sympathy. “Is there anyone I can call?”
Yeah, about 7, but they’re all occupied or on death’s door.
“No,” she says. “I can just,” she rubs her temple and takes a deep breath. “Where’s the closest waiting area?”
The nurse tsks and shakes her head. “No, no, come on,” she says, gesturing for Emily to follow her. “You can shower in the locker room. I’ll get a pair of scrubs for you to wear and a bag to store your clothes in.”
Emily thanks her and follow silently, twisting and turning through the many hallways until she reaches the door labeled “Women’s Locker Room.”
“There’s soaps and hair products in each shower. I’ll be right back. Go on in. I’ll leave everything on the bench for you.”
Emily nods her thanks and ducks inside. As she passes by the long stretch of mirror behind the row of sinks, her stomach lurches. It did look like she’d been on the receiving end of Foyet’s knife with how much blood covered the front of her body.
She tears her gaze away from her sullied figure and turns toward the showers. Slowly, she sinks down onto one of the wooden benches. Resting her elbows on her knees, she drops her head into her hands. Thick, hot tears blur her vision as she takes a shuddering breath.
2 minutes, she thinks. 2 minutes and then you pull yourself together.
No sooner does the thought cross her mind does the dam break and the tears free flow down her cheeks in thick, hot lines. She takes deep gasping breaths as the sobs rattle her body. Her mascara bleeds into her eyes, stinging them. Using the backs of her hands, she presses them to her eyes, wiping the tears away and no doubt smearing blood and makeup across her face in the process.
She blows out a breath and forces herself into a seated position. “He’s going to be alright,” she affirms to no one but herself. She stands on shaky legs and feels the weight of exhaustion slowly creeping into her muscles. She kicks out of her boots and undresses.
She swipes at the faucet inside the shower and doesn’t wait for it to warm up before standing under the icy stream of water. She gasps and sputters but keeps her face under the flow. Once the water begins to heat up, she opens her eyes and glances down at her feet. Blood sleuces down her legs in pink rivulets, swirling and disappearing down the drain.
She pumps the lavender scented shower gel into her hand from the dispenser on the wall and scrubs her skin until it’s red and raw. She works it under her nails and up and down her limbs. It feels like it’s stained her permanently, his blood, inked onto her like a tattoo. After washing her hair, she cuts the water off and squeezes the water from her dark locks. She pulls the shower curtain open and just as the nurse had said, everything had been left for her in a neat pile on the bench. The nurse had even bagged her dirty clothes for her, not like Emily would try to salvage them. She dresses quickly in the pair of blue scrubs. They're a little big on her, but it feels so good to not be wearing clothes soaked with Hotch’s blood.
Slowly, but surely, she retraces her steps back to the waiting room and the charge nurse at the desk tells her Hotch is still in surgery. Of course he is. It had only been twenty five minutes since she’d arrived.
At least if he’s still in surgery, he’s still alive, she thinks, though the thought is still far from comforting.
Reluctantly, Emily crosses the waiting room and sinks into one of the plastic covered chairs settling in for a painfully long afternoon that smelled like antiseptic.
It bewilders her to look down at the hard tile floor and not see a path worn down to the cement underneath. How long had she been pacing this same stretch of floor in the waiting room? Her thumb nail aches from where she’d been anxiously gnawing it down to the quick, a bad habit she’d fought for years to quit, but in her most vulnerable moments came back.
She glances down at her watch, of which she’d been ninety eight percent successful at cleaning free of Hotch’s blood. She’d have to send it out to get the bits stuck in between the interlocking pieces of the wrist band cleaned out. It had been three hours. She blows out an exasperated breath.
Surely there would have been some update by now. What if he’s—
She’s unable to finish the thought when a doctor pushes through the double doors where Hotch had disappeared behind earlier.
She perks up and sends up a silent prayer that he’s on his way to see her. He wears a surgeon’s cap, covering his short blonde hair, and as he meets her eyes, she knows it’s the doctor that operated on Hotch.
“Well?” she asks, her voice shaking with the anticipation of news. “How is he?”
The doctor approaches and slows to a stop in front of her. “It was touch and go there for a while. He lost a lot of blood. We were able to stabilize him, but it’ll take some time for him to heal. He’ll be out of commission for a month, maybe longer.”
“Can I see him?” Emily asks, eyes pleading.
A glimmer of sympathy flashes across the surgeon’s eyes. He nods. “He’s unconscious now. When he wakes, he’ll likely be out of it. He’s under the influence of some pretty strong painkillers.”
Emily swallows and nods as she inhales. “I understand.”
The doctor’s eyes shift then and Emily immediately realizes he’s got more to say. “Is there something more I should know?”
“Well,” he begins. “When you brought him, you confirmed with the paramedics and nurses that that is indeed, Aaron Hotchner.”
Emily’s features twist, puzzled by his question. “Yes?”
“We found this when we cut his clothes off of him.” He reaches into his pocket and passes Emily a bifold badge identical to hers. She flips it open, eyes widening as she reads Derek Morgan’s name and her mind flashes to several weeks earlier when he’d lost his credentials. George Foyet had stolen them from him.
“Thank you,” she says and tucks the badge into the scrubs pocket. “Derek is a member of our team. This relates to a case we’re working on. I’m afraid I can’t say more. Please,” she says, her words now a plea, “take me to him.”
The doctor hesitates, like he might say more, but he doesn’t. “Follow me, then.”
Her eyelids are so heavy, but she refuses to fall asleep in case he wakes up. She takes another sip from the now lukewarm hospital coffee. It’s bitter on her tongue and her stomach roils as it travels down her esophagus. When was the last time she ate? She glances at the clock and it’s pushing 3:00PM. School would be getting out soon. Her thoughts wander to Reid and the team, and if they’d had any luck with locating the unsub threatening the doctor and his son. How could this be the same day she’d woken up on? It felt like it had been days since she said goodnight and kissed Hotch goodbye after he walked her to her car last night. It was only this morning since they were supposed to go to breakfast and enjoy the rare day off from cases and unsubs and torture and murder.
She holds Hotch’s loose hand in hers, the feel of his skin and its warmth a comfort. She leans forward, elbows on her knees, and rotates his hand gently to hold it against her cheek. Closing her eyes, she leans into his palm and kisses the skin there gently. “I should’ve gone home with you,” she whispers, “Maybe I could’ve done something.”
She ponders the likelihood of that as she sits there watching the rise and fall of his chest, the steady beeping of the heart monitor pulsing rhythmically beside her. Now and then the blood pressure cuff around his arm hisses as it contracts and releases. What were the odds that her being there would’ve changed the outcome? The Reaper had almost exclusively killed couples, but those were in smaller enclosed settings. He took advantage of couples by trapping them in their vehicles, minimizing their ability to escape. Hotch might have still taken off his gun, but would she have? Would Foyet have even had the chance to get the shot off? Or would that bullet have gone into her instead of the wall?
“You’re going to drive yourself crazy, Emily,” she whispers to herself. She knows there is no sense in reviewing the ‘what if’s,’ but it seems impossible when her entire support system is unavailable and she’s keeping this monumental secret from them.
“Just wake up, Hotch,” she quietly pleads before pressing another kiss to his hand. “I just need you to be okay.”
Her eyes flare as she feels the slightest twitch against her ring finger. She sits up straighter and holds his hand in both hers.
“Hotch?”
Her breathing stills. Did she imagine that? She squeezes his hand in hers.
“It’s Emily, Aaron. I’m here.”
Faintly, his fingers press into hers. An excited bubble of laughter escapes her lips as relief floods through her veins. She kisses his knuckles. “Thank God,” she whispers.
“Emi—” his voice is hoarse as he starts, but doesn’t finish her name. His eyes don’t open, but his head tilts in her direction.
“I’m right here, Hotch,” she says, shushing him. “I’m not going anywhere. Just, just rest.”
Hotch hums a response but doesn’t articulate anything further than that.
“Emily!” Garcia’s voice is filled with both pain and relief.
She sits up and gingerly lays Hotch’s hand back down on the bed. “Penelope!” Emily stands up and quickly closes the space between them and pulls her into a tight embrace.
“Oh, honey,” Penelope soothes as she rubs a hand up and down Emily’s back. “I’m so sorry you were dealing with this all by yourself.” She pulls away and looks her up and down from behind the lenses of her purple glasses.
“I’m so glad to see you,” Emily says. Her brow pinches. “But the team, the case—”
Penelope’s pink-painted lips curve into a smile as she holds up a manicured finger, cutting her off. “Not to worry, my sweet girl. The case is closed. The team saved the day. All is good in the world.” Penelope purses her lips as she pauses. “Well, except for the part where Agent Hotchner was treated like mincemeat and Reid was shot.”
Emily’s head snaps up. “Reid was what?” she shouts.
Penelope’s eyes widen and the glittery green eyeshadow she’s applied to her eyelids shines under the fluorescent hospital lighting. She waves her hands in front of her body, the multi-colored bangles on her wrist jingling as she does so. “No, no, no, no, no,” she repeats again and again. “He’s fine, he’s fine. He caught one in the leg, but he’s ok. I think he’s being patched up down the hall.”
Emily is already halfway out the door as she calls over her shoulder, “Maybe lead with that next time!”
Penelope’s high-heeled clad feet click and clack as she teeters after her. “Sorry!” she cries as she catches up to her. “So much has happened today I’m just glad that everyone is ok, well, as ok as one can be given the circumstances of the last 72 hours.”
Emily inclines her head to the side and blows air out through her nose. “You could say that again.” Without pausing to peer inside and be sure she’s in the right room, she enters the only other hospital room with an open door, the sound of voices telling her she’s found the right place.
Morgan, Rossi, and JJ stand around the hospital. They’re faces all bear surprised expressions and confusion. Somehow she finds it in herself to crack a joke, “Guys, I get it. My Prada boots don’t match the scrubs, it’s not that bad.”
Morgan breaks apart from the semi-circle that’s formed around Spencer, who also looks incredibly happy to see her despite his injured leg, and pulls her into a hug. “You could’ve called,” he chastises.
Emily rolls her eyes as she pulls away and transitions into JJ’s open arms. “You would’ve made the same call, Morgan. He grunts in response and she smirks to herself.
“How’s Hotch?” Spencer asks, using his fists to push himself into a sitting position without bending his braced leg.
Emily blows out a breath. “He’s in pretty bad shape, I won’t lie. What do we have on Foyet? Anything?”
Rossi shakes his head. “Nothing yet. Crime techs are still going over the apartment.”
“Someone needs to tell them to look for anything that looks like it might be missing; disturbed dust, signs something was torn from something, anything.”
“What are you getting at, Emily?” Derek asks.
Her gaze locks on his as she reaches into her pocket. Without looking, she passes his credentials to him. His eyes shimmer with concern as he takes his badge from her. “Where did you find this?”
“The surgeon,” she gestures aimlessly toward the day. “It was in his pants pocket. Foyet must have put it there after he,” she pauses, voice wavering.
“Ok,” Morgan says, tucking his badge into his pocket. “Thanks, Emily. Rossi, can you?”
“Already on it,” Rossi answers, phone up to his ear. Someone answers almost immediately and he begins to deliver instructions to them regarding this development.
Suddenly, a wave of dizziness and nausea crashes over her. Emily takes a step and stumbles, catching herself on the rail of Spencer’s hospital bed.
“Emily!” Spencer and JJ shout in unison, though JJ is the one to catch her, holding her up with a supportive arm.
Emily blinks twice, hard. The wave passes and she straightens, shrugging out of JJ’s arms though JJ keeps her hand on her back just in case.
“Prentiss, when’s the last time you had something to eat or drink?” Morgan asks, and he sounds more like her father, than her friend.
Her eyes search the room for a clock and quickly land on the digital red numbers blinking up from a small box on the bedside table. 6:04 PM blinks back at her. “What time did we land last night?” she asks.
Morgan releases an exasperated sigh. “That’s it, I’m taking you home.” He reaches for her arm and Emily recoils. “No, Morgan. I’m fine. I need to stay here. Hotch—”
“Will be fine,” he finishes. His brown eyes are hard, but there’s concern in them too. “You’re no good to him, or anyone here if you pass out. Come on. I’ll take you home.”
Emily emerges from her bathroom smelling like her own vanilla-scented shower gel and floral shampoo. She pulls her robe around her and pulls the ties around her waist, securing it at her navel. She smells a combination of aromatic spices and exits the bedroom to find Morgan closing the door to her apartment. In his hand is a white plastic bag, its sides fit to bursting from the number of styrofoam takeout containers stacked inside.
He smiles, flashing a row of white teeth as he does so. He holds up the bag and shakes it, wiggling his hips as he does so. “I got your favorite,” he sing-songs. “We are going to have an Indian feast. We got butter chicken. We got chana masala. We got paneer, and girl, we got enough naan to last us a lifetime.”
Emily smiles, though it feels almost wrong to do so when Hotch and Spence are in the hospital and Foyet is still out there.
As if reading her thoughts, Morgan shakes his head and drops the food on her coffee table. “No,” he says as he shakes his head. “Nope, come on,” he takes her by the hand and guides her to the sofa. “You are allowed to eat and rest. Hotch is stable and Penelope is knitting the world’s longest scarf at his bedside as we speak. JJ just texted me and they’re taking Spencer home now.” He plops on the couch and pulls her down to sit beside him. “You’re only job right now,” he says as digs in his pocket and pulls out a plastic-wrapped set of disposable silverware, “is to eat, drink, and sleep.”
Emily wakes with a start. Very seldom did she fall asleep on the couch. The credits to How to Lose A Guy in Ten Days roll on the flat screen. She pushes herself into a seated position and that’s when she realizes she’d fallen asleep on Morgan’s shoulder. He stirs but doesn’t wake as she stands and picks up the now very empty takeout boxes. She crinkles the aluminum foil linings as quietly as she can as she pushes the trash down into the bin in her kitchen. The headache she’d had when they’d left the hospital is gone, thanks to the many glasses of water Morgan has pushed in front of her. She flips off the kitchen light and crosses back into the living room where she picks up the remote to turn off the TV. Pulling the throw blanket off of the back of the couch, she tosses it over Morgan’s hulking frame and her lips curve into a half smile as he subconsciously snuggles into the plush blanket.
“Goodnight, Derek,” she whispers as she walks to her bedroom and shuts the door behind her. She leans her back against the wood of the door. Light from the streetlights streams in through her partially open blinds, casting strange shadows around the room. She twists them shut, blocking out the light, and climbs into bed. Her muscles ache as she sinks into the mattress, finally allowing them to relax and after making them carry her through the day. She turns onto her side and stares at the empty space beside her. She pictures Hotch resting his head on the pillow next to hers, smiling and telling her goodnight; what they should’ve been doing last night. Instead, he’d been mutilated on the floor of his home, where he was supposed to feel safe after a day of combatting danger.
She blinks back tears and pushes the thought from her mind. “Hotch is fine,” she whispers, reminding herself. As her eyes fall shut and she allows sleep to finally drag her into its cool embrace, she thinks of Hotch squeezing her hand in the hospital. She thinks of its warmth. It’s enough to promise her a dreamless sleep, and that’s far better than being haunted by nightmares.
Emily wakes with the sun. The golden light streams through the blinds in slats across her bed. She glances at the clock and it reads 6:34 AM. A full 7 hours, that was more sleep than she’d had since before the team left for Canada.
After quickly going through the motions of her morning routine: washing her face, brushing her teeth and hair, and dressing in a comfortable pair of leggings and Hotch’s old FBI Academy sweatshirt, she emerges from her bedroom.
Morgan is still right where she left him, though at some point during the night, he’d stretched the length of his body across the whole of the couch. She stifles a laugh. One leg is dangling off of the couch while one arm is stretched straight out overhead. His mouth hangs open as he cuddles the bulk of the throw blanket against his chest. Silently, she pads across the room to where she left her phone on the kitchen counter. Approaching a sleeping Derek with as little sound as she can muster, she flips open her cell phone and snaps a pic. Derek’s eyes snap open and widen as he immediately sees Emily with the phone in hand.
“Oh hell, no!” he jumps up from the couch but before he can take one step, the throw blanket twists around his ankles effectively tripping him. Those three seconds are enough for Emily to text the photo to Garcia.
“Gimme that phone!” Derek orders as he finally makes it to his feet and tries to wrangle it from her. As he wraps his arms around her from behind, Prentiss can’t help but laugh. “Too late, Morgan. I already sent her the photo of Sleeping Beauty. You know that’s going in the archive.”
Morgan releases her and points a finger at her. “As long as it doesn’t make it into the slideshow at the Christmas party.”
Emily arches an eyebrow and tilts her head back and forth, weighing the likelihood of that. “We’ll have to see about that.”
Morgan laughs and his features soften into a gentle smile. He inclines his head toward her. “It’s good to hear you laugh.”
She feels heat rise to her cheeks, and a small wave of guilt crashes over her. She allows it to do so and then envisions it cresting before rolling gently over a sandy beach. She takes a deep breath and smiles knowing that Hotch would want her to be laughing and joking despite what he’s been through. He’d remind her that Foyet would’ve been there regardless of if she’d come home with him. And she knew that he’d be telling her that he was glad she wasn’t there, because he couldn’t bear to see anything happen to her.
“Thanks for last night,” she says. “I really needed it.”
Morgan waves her off. “Nah, it’s nothing. We’re family, Prentiss.”
“I know,” she says with a smile. “Do you want to grab breakfast or a coffee? I’m going to head back to the hospital and relieve Garcia.”
Morgan claps his hands together, “That shitty diner on 8th?”
Emily moans at the thought of a sausage, egg, and cheese bagel crammed into a plastic red basket overrun by a mountain of red potatoes. “Oh my God, yes. You know, I don’t know what they put in their food, and I don’t think I want to, but damn, a big pile of grease is exactly what I need right now.
Morgan grabs the car keys off the counter and pockets them. “I’m driving.”
Derek drops her off at the hospital’s front entrance. He rolls down the window as she circles the car. “Tell Garcia I’m waiting for her.”
Emily’s lips quirk into a half smile. “I’ll be sure to tell her her chariot awaits.” She raises her cup of coffee to him, “Thank you, Derek. For last night.”
He winks, “That’s what family’s for, right?”
She nods and turns toward the hospital. She navigates the twists and turns of the hallways, keeping out of the way of doctors and nurses as they go about their duties. After signing in at the nurses station, she shoulders her purse, picks up both cups of coffee and heads toward Hotch’s room.
“Knock, knock,” she vocalizes, unable to physically knock on the half open door. Using her shoulder, she pushes it open and steps inside.
“Emily!” Garcia greets cheerfully. She sits in a chair near the hospital bed. Her chunky ring-adorned fingers hold knitting needles paused in mid-air, a lengthy scarf made up of maroon fibers hanging down to her ankles.
Her eyebrows knit together as she eyes the scarf. She smiles at her friend. “Been busy?”
“I think I fell asleep to the sound of those needles clacking together,” Hotch says. Emily’s attention shifts to him and her smile widens. The bed is angled, allowing him to rest in a half-seated position. There seems to be more color on his face today and that floods her chest with warmth. Just barely, he inclines his head toward her. “Is one of those for me?”
Emily sucks air through her teeth. “Ooo, sorry. This is for Penelope.”
Garcia perks up. “Yes, please!” she says. “Give that caffeine to mama.” She lays her knitting needles in her lap and holds out her hands, thanking Emily when she passes her the cup.
“Morgan is waiting for you at the entrance.”
A flirtatious grin crosses Penelope’s lips. “My knight in shining armor, come to get me from this extra sanitary antiseptic-rich tower. Someone catch me as I swoon.” She tucks the mass of yarn into her bag and stands. “It’s been a pleasure, sir. I’ll have this scarf waiting for you on your desk when you return.”
As she passes Emily, she gives her a peck on the cheek. “He’s all yours, kitten.” She sashays out of the room, gently shutting the door behind her on the way out.
The room is small and she crosses the short space in a matter of steps. She exhales as she takes the seat previously occupied by Penelope. Hotch flexes his hand as he inches it closer to the bedside and Emily takes it in hers.
“How are you feeling?” he asks, squeezing her hand.
Emily breathes out a short laugh. “Shouldn’t I be asking you that?”
“Well, I feel like I’ve been stabbed nine times, but that’s to be expected. I understand that you almost fainted yesterday.”
“I—” Emily’s mouth clamps shut as she feels the weight of his hard stare on her. “Did Garcia say that? I wouldn’t say I fain—”
“Emily.”
She hates that tone of voice. His supervisory voice. The one he uses to give orders. The one he uses when they’re acting as colleagues, not partners.
She rolls her eyes. “Hotch, don’t give me that look.” She then aims a pointed look of her own towards him. “And you’re not my boss right now. In fact, you’re not even allowed to think about work for the next four to six weeks as far as I’m concerned, so lose the ‘I’m-your-boss’ tone.”
Aaron’s brow arches slightly at her challenge. “Fair enough,” he relents. “You didn’t answer my question though. How are you feeling?”
Emily relaxes as his tone does and gently taps his fingers with her own. “Better than I was yesterday. Morgan took me home. He ordered takeout, I made him watch my favorite chick flick—”
“ How to Lose a Guy in Ten Days?”
Emily’s jaw drops, her open mouth smiling. “You remembered that?”
“I heard you and JJ talking about it on the plane,” he answers, smiling. “I do my best to remember little things like that about everyone,” he inclines his head towards her, “you especially.”
Emily can’t fight the pinkening of her cheeks. “Why do you do that?”
“It reminds me that we’re all individuals beyond the case files; that we’re not just behavior analysts, that we don’t just spend time studying and watching the why’s, what’s, and how’s that make up other people’s lives, but that we have those same qualities about ourselves. That we have hobbies and interests and beliefs outside of the bureau. If I don’t do that, well, I wouldn’t be a very good boss, now would I?”
A small sound of disbelief passes her lips. She’d had the pleasure of scaling the walls that he’d erected to distance himself from others allows him to lead his team from a place free of bias, but hearing him dictate that despite all of that and the image he projects, he is still internalizing all the bits and pieces that make each of them human. That that’s what makes him human.
“Ya know, if the team finds out you’re actually a big softie, you’ll never hear the end of it.” She says.
“Yes,” his lips twitch into a soft smile. “Well, I think they know that and just choose not to say anything about it.” He squeezes her hand again. “I’ll have to thank Morgan. I’m sorry for what you must have gone through.”
Her face falls. “Oh, Aaron don’t. You don’t need to—”
His eyes are hard again as he speaks. “I do. To find me like that after what we’d all gone through together in Canada. It couldn’t have been easy. Your response time was critical. I know you, Emily. I know you immediately had to force yourself into action. I know you had to bury your emotions to see past me; to see past your colleague and partner. And I know that wasn’t easy. I also know you couldn’t tell anyone else because you didn’t want to distract them from the case at hand. I also know that you were willing to sit in the waiting room covered in my blood until you knew I was alright. You did all of this on little food and drink, and even less sleep.”
Emily stares at his hand around hers, unmoving, as he speaks. In her mind’s eyes, the images of yesterday flash in rapid succession: finding him, his face twisted in pain as she applied pressure to the stab wounds, stumbling out of the ambulance as he was whisked out of reach, his blood spiraling down the drain in the hospital’s locker room…
“Emily.” Her name is lighter on his tongue this time; not an order, but a light guiding her back to the present moment. Her eyes focus on him and relief floods throughout her entire body. His hand is warm in hers.
Suddenly, pressure builds in her eyes, the heavy heat that comes before tears. She swallows and when she finds her voice, it wavers, “I was so scared, Aaron.”
“I know.”
“If I hadn’t found you, if you’d di—” Her voice breaks and she swallows the growing lump in her throat. She breathes deeply in a poor attempt to compose herself.
“But I didn’t,” Aaron states firmly. “Emily, I’m alive because you found me. Don’t sit here and torture yourself with ‘what-ifs.’ You know better than that.”
Emily nods and tucks the strands of hair that have fallen from her ponytail behind her ears. “You’re right, I’m just,” she sighs, “I wish there was more that I could do.”
“What you’re doing is already enough,” he says. “And,” he adds, “if the idea of moving my body didn’t make me think I’d physically pass out from the pain, I’d be putting my arms around you so you’d feel comforted and trust that I am so utterly grateful that you chose to go home that night.”
His fingers twitch, but he winces as he tries to lift them off the mattress. Emily reacts immediately and slips her cool slender fingers back into his hand. His are longer, rougher, and curl around hers.
When Emily speaks, her voice is soft. If she speaks any louder she’ll fear it’ll crack and she doesn’t want to cry again. “When they say you can leave here,” she starts and allows her lips to twitch into a whisper of a smile, “Can I come home with you?”
Hotch smiles in turn. “Come here.”
Emily stands and leans down, her bound hair falling just so over her shoulder as she does.
“Closer,” he says and she acquiesces, lowering herself so that her lips are hovering just over his and she can feel his breath on her skin.
His lips are as light as air as he brushes a feather-light kiss against her mouth. It’s all that he can do in his current condition, but the feel of it is enough to melt the icy grief that had been clinging to her these last thirty-six hours, and now it felt as though the sun was shining on her bare skin in this small sterile hospital room.
“My home is your home, Emily. And you’ll always be welcome.”
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em-prentiss · 18 days
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Omg guys what if Aaron and Emily are dating and a few months in Emily realizes just how much this man loves her and she gets so scared because she’s never actually been loved, let alone loved like this, so she breaks up with him and starts avoiding him and he’s so confused and heartbroken but when he finally figures it out he’s like no thanks I’m taking you back and there’s nothing you can do about it cause I’m gonna love you for ever and ever and ever and Emily just…sobs into his chest because no one’s ever fought for her before and then they create the warmest home with so much love you actually want to throw up <3
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realtime-00 · 9 months
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I wish I could erase every hotchniss fan fiction from my brain just to read them all over again.
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