#implied hotchniss

[sophinthealps]

anyone wanna read angsty ao3 about derek morgan & spencer reid getting hurt????? any takers?????? (as if there aren’t enough hurt!bau fics)

[hotchniss12]

Fully believing that Emily Prentiss is lesbian and shipping jemily but then ALSOOO shipping Hotchniss because it makes so much sense and it’s been implied SO MANY TIMES in the show should actually either be a full time job or an Olympic sport bc this is exhausting

[emilyprsblog]

A new shade of red

tw: severe self harm, implied suicide, tears (everyone’s crying)

summary: the team finds hotchniss’ daughter, lola, at her most vulnerable

wc: 2k

chapter: one | two

Emily couldn’t stop thinking about all the teams’ voices overlapping, their tones absolutely terrified as they panicked. In just a few short minutes, all their lives would be changed forever. Emily’s life as a mom would change, Aaron’s life as a dad would change. Their usual worries would be something else entirely.

“Hey, has anyone seen Lola?” Emily asked, her heart slightly racing as she looked at her team and her husband at the table, the volume in the room fading as they looked at Emily.

“I think she said she was going to the bathroom.” JJ answered, noticing Emily’s slightly wide eyes as she stood in front of them. The dark haired woman turned around, rushing down the hall to the bathroom, leaving the team looking at each other with frowns, confusion making it hard to resume talking about what they were just seconds ago.

JJ stood up, giving the team a small smile as she, too, walked down the hall, seeing Emily knocking rapidly on the bathroom door.

“Lola?” Four more knocks. Nothing. “Honey, you’ve been in there for a long time now.” JJ just watched as Emily breathed heavily, not being able to stand completely still. “Lola?” Two more knocks. Nothing.

Emily turned around, looking at JJ with a frown, her hands on her waist as she bit her lower lip. JJ looked at her with soft, slightly wide eyes. Emily exhaled.

“JJ, I…” It sounded like she swallowed a cry. “I need you to get Aaron here.” JJ heard the desperation in her friend’s voice and she nodded, hurrying to get him. Emily stayed there, continuing to knock, telling herself that her thoughts were wrong. That this wasn’t really happening.

After moments, that felt far too long, her husband was by her side, asking if she was okay.

“I’m fine, I just… you need to get in there.” Emily tried to open the door, mentally telling herself that maybe it would magically open. Aaron looked at his wife, seeing her eyes shining with slight tears. Her voice was laced with concern and her breaths were short. “Aaron, right now. Open the door. I don’t care how you do it, just get it open.” Her words were hurried and she got a glance of JJ fidgeting with her fingers, her eyes unsure.

Aaron grabbed the handle, crashing the side of his body to the door over and over again. It felt like forever until the door finally opened and Aaron was not at all nearly prepared for the sight he was exposed to. There she was, his 15 year old daughter, blood covering her whole arm, her clothes and the floor. He opened his mouth in a silent gasp as he rushed to her side, horrified by how pale she was. Emily and JJ caught sight of the situation and their hearts hurt as they saw Aaron try to talk Lola back to consciousness. Emily covered her mouth, tears burning in her eyes the second her palm touched her skin. JJ was right behind her, tears watering in her eyes too as she fumbled to get her phone from her pocket. The seconds felt too many as her shaky hands failed her.

“One of you has to call an ambulance, right now.” Aaron barked, cupping his hands over Lola’s arm, trying desperately to stop the bleeding.

“I am. I am.” JJ’s voice trembled and she let out a relieved breath when she finally grabbed her phone, dialing 911. She grabbed Emily who had began depending on the wall as to not fall. Emily’s knees were weak and her body felt heavy as she felt an arm around her waist, pulling her away from the scene. Away from the image that was going to haunt her for years to come.

“How long, JJ?” The blonde heard Aaron ask.

“I don’t know. I’m trying to find out.” She inhaled, trying her best to comfort Emily who was seconds away from collapsing.

“Get me a first aid kit.” JJ didn’t know what to do. Her arm was beginning to hurt from trying to hold up Emily and her heart hurt as she couldn’t stop thinking about what was happening just a wall away. She couldn’t hear what the woman on the phone way saying, not clearly. She felt her lips move but she didn’t hear herself. She heard something that sounded like they were going to be there as fast as they could. JJ heard herself mutter a ‘thank you’ as she looked around for a first aid kit. She searched high up, seeing the green box she was looking for on a shelf. She reached up, her breaths uneven.

As soon as Aaron got a hold of the box, he immediately got to work, bandaging up his daughter’s arm, his chest hurting as he looked at his little girl, her face pale and head heavy.

“Lola, honey. I need you to look at me.” He said, slightly panicking as the blood seeped through the bandage. “Lola. Look at me.” His brown eyes met Lola’s dark ones. “Good. Keep looking at me.” He nodded, glancing at JJ who was barely visible behind the doorway. “JJ, get Rossi in here. You need to take care of Emily right now.” Aaron shouted, not sure if JJ even heard him through Emily’s sobs. There was no answer, but moments later, he heard hurrying footsteps and then David talking to the operator on JJ’s phone. Aaron exhaled, keeping light pressure on the bandage.

Without the phone in hand, JJ could finally keep her focus on Emily who was completely destroyed. In the corner of her eye, she saw Spencer rush in.

When Emily tried to go into the bathroom, JJ gripped her even tighter, keeping her away from the bathroom.

“No, no, no. Emily. Emily.” JJ softly spoke, her voice trembling as she lead the brunette out to the hall. Emily leaned against the wall, hyperventilating as she slid down to the ground. JJ was right beside her, usually comforting words coming from her lips as her throat began to close up. They didn’t help much now. “Emily.” Her sobs were too loud. JJ placed her hands on Emily’s cheeks, caressing as she tried to initiate eye contact. “Emily, breathe. Emily. Emily. Look at me.” Emily looked up, her eyes having a certain heartbreak JJ had never seen before. Her feelings were overwhelming. “It’s going to be okay.” JJ nodded, Emily looked down, taking a short breath. “Look at me. Breathe.” Emily looked up again, her brown eyes staying on JJ’s blue ones.

“She looked like she was dead, JJ.” Emily was hysterical. The sentence made the blonde’s heart hurt.

“No, no, no. She’s not. She’s not dead. She’s not.” Emily just continued sobbing, placing her own hands over JJ’s.

“I can’t lose her. I ca—“ A sharp breath. “I can’t lose her, JJ. She’s my Lola. She’s my—“

“You won’t. They’re all helping her right now and an ambulance is coming. You will not lose her.” JJ heard her name being shouted and she panicked, not knowing what to focus on. She quickly ran to the bathroom again, seeing Spencer in the doorway, looking at the scene with wide eyes. Quickly, she took a hold of his arms, looking into his eyes as she told him to go to Emily. He nodded, running out to the hall. JJ exhaled as she rushed into the bathroom, seeing Lola’ scared eyes. JJ knew what the teenager needed.

Kneeling down, JJ placed her hands on Lola’s cheeks, looking into her misty eyes. The blonde tried her best to ignore just how much blood Lola was losing.

“Stay awake, Lola.” JJ chanted when she saw how Lola’s eyes began to slowly flutter closed. “Look at me. Stay awake.” JJ felt Lola grip her arm, blood smearing on her pale skin. There wasn’t much more they could do than internally pray that Lola was going to be okay. Aaron had bandaged her arm and was keeping pressure on it. David had finished talking to the operator and now all they had to wait. It was the longest 10 minutes of her life. The longest 10 minutes of all their lives.

JJ’s eyes widened when Lola’s eyes closed completely. She lightly slapped her cheeks, chanting over and over again that Lola had to stay awake.

“No, no, no.” Her heart picked up speed for the thousandth time that night. “Lola. Lola. Lola. Open your eyes. Lola.” JJ teared up, she had never felt so hopeless and useless in her life. “Look at me.” The teenager suddenly opened her eyes, and JJ nodded in encouragement, never stopped looking into her eyes.

Lola’s vision was blurry when she opened her eyes. Her head was pounding and her ears were ringing. It took a while for her to realize who was in front of her. Her eyes finally focused after a while, seeing JJ looking at her with tears in her eyes. She felt the blonde’s hands on her cheeks, caressing lovingly, but Lola also felt how much they were trembling. Using all the little strength she had left, Lola weakly grabbed JJ’s hand, wanting her soft skin to be the last thing she felt, instead of her own blood, before she died. A few beats and everything went black.

Now, as Emily sat in the hospital with the entire team there, no one speaking, she could not shake the thoughts of having to prepare to come home without her daughter. Having to tell Jack that his little sister had killed herself. She wouldn’t ever survive that. None of them would.

Emily closed her eyes, trying to get the thoughts to go away. She exhaled, gently squeezing JJ’s hand. The blonde hadn’t left Emily’s side since they arrived at the hospital.

Sitting in the waiting room was almost, selfishly, as bad as seeing her daughter on the floor. All the quiet, all the time to think about how long her daughter had been doing this. Emily didn’t miss the faint scars on her arms from what seemed like months prior to this. She didn’t know how they had missed it. Didn’t understand how Lola was in so much pain and they hadn’t seen it.

Emily felt a gentle squeeze back, but this time, it meant something more than comfort. Emily looked up, seeing a doctor walking towards her. She held her breath, putting her free hand where JJ and her were already holding hands, looking at the doctor with expectant eyes.

“Emily, is it?” Emily nodded, seeing Aaron come back from the bathroom. He hurried to Emily’s side when he saw the doctor. “We’ve moved your daughter to a ward.” The woman started. Aaron sat down next to his wife, Emily placing her head on his shoulder as they listened to the doctor, her hands still holding JJ’s tightly. “She’s just come out of surgery. She’ll need to be reviewed by psychiatry tomorrow morning.”

“Is she going to be okay, then?” Aaron asked, his voice hoarse and exhausted. Emily felt the way he sounded.

“We’ll know more tomorrow.” The doctor gave a comforting smile. “Do you want to see her?” Emily and Aaron both immediately nodded. Emily turned to JJ, giving her a small smile before she let go of her hand, feeling a small bit of emptiness at the loss of contact. Aaron placed his arm around Emily’s waist, both of them slightly shaking with nervousness as they followed the doctor down door after door.

Tears burned in Emily’s time again when she saw her daughter on the hospital bed. Seeing Lola so small and vulnerable, with a bandage covering her arm, made Emily quietly gasp. She was afraid she would never stop crying.

Aaron didn’t know what to feel. He didn’t know what to do. He was mad at himself for not noticing just how much his own daughter was suffering. He was sad for not noticing how much his own daughter was suffering. At the same time, he felt numb. The feeling of his daughter’s blood in his hands made him feel so many overwhelming feelings, but he felt numb at the same time.

Two chairs were placed next to the bed and the parents hesitantly sat down, looking at their daughter who was asleep. Emily grabbed her hand, caressing it and saw how many scars Lola had on her arms. Emily quietly whimpered and felt Aaron take Lola’s hand as well. She looked at him. The love of her life, and saw how much he was hurting too. She placed her free hand on his cheek, caressing it as a tear rolled down his cheek. Her thumb delicately brushed it away. She wanted to say something. But she didn’t know what. What are you supposed to say when your daughter slits her wrists?

“She’ll be okay.” Emily ended up saying. She wanted to take it back the second she began the sentence. Aaron said nothing, he just looked down at their hands. “Aaron, honey? Are you listening to me?” Her voice was gentle. “She’s going to be okay.” She didn’t know why she said it again. Aaron nodded, a slight, obviously unsure nod. “Honey… look at me.” He did and when he raised his head, Emily saw how much Aaron seemed to just want to cry. Let it out. Emily prayed that he wouldn’t keep this in until he eventually broke.

Aaron stared at what could’ve been Emily’s face, but she was too good of a profiler to see that his eyes were resting at a spot just past her ear. Silence for a moment and Emily was afraid that she was going to have to beg him to talk.

“… I should have noticed.” The words came so unexpectedly that Emily barely registered what he said. She blinked.

“Aaron…” Emily cooed.

“We’re profilers.” He scoffed, his shiny gaze slipping back to their hands. “We’re parents. I missed it.”

“We all did.” Emily spoke. It was true. It was most likely hopeful ignorance, denial. They had all noticed that something was off but they hadn’t given her more than invitations to talk. Aaron, at least, didn’t want to believe that it was anything too serious. He didn’t like to think of his children in pain, and he’d prefer to manipulate himself than to try and fix it. The guilt made him feel nauseous.

“I thought that after Reid, I would notice things like this. Notice if people weren’t okay and be able to keep a close eye on things.”

“She hid it well.” Emily spoke, voice unsure. The words were for her own benefit as well.

“Did she?” Aaron asked, his voice cracking in the slightest way as he looked up at his wife, seeing her hesitant facial expression. Emily didn’t know what to say, so she swallowed the thick feeling in her throat, looking at her daughter again.

Hours went by and the parents were asleep. Emily was still holding her daughter’s hand, leaning her head on her husband’s shoulder. Aaron kept a hand around her as he leaned his head on hers.

Lola heard soft snores coming from somewhere. It took a moment for her eyes to relax at the harsh light that shone from the ceiling. She swallowed, her throat dry and sore. As soon as she noticed her parents, she felt claustrophobic in her body. She couldn’t quite move. She could wiggle her toes slightly and after a beat, she recognized her mother’s hand in her own. Mustering up strength, she squeezed slightly. The way her mother immediately woke up made Lola feel guilty.

“…Hi, baby.” Emily smiled, leaning closer to kiss Lola’s hand. Aaron also woke up when he heard Emily’s voice, looking at his daughter with so much sadness.

Lola looked at her parents for a moment before she turned her head as much as she could the other way, her feelings and memories catching up to her and she began to cry. Her face contorted into the most heartbreaking frown that made Emily’s heart hurt. She leaned closer, cooing.

“Hey…” She whispered, squeezing Lola’s hand tighter. “Hey, honey.” When Lola began quietly sobbing, Emily hushed her. Aaron took her hand over Emily’s.

“I’m so sorry.” Lola whimpered, her chest hurting at all her family’s faces. The way JJ looked at her before she had passed out made its way to her mind.

“No, Lola. Don’t apologize.” Aaron spoke, voice gentle as he too, leaned closer.

“I’m so sorry.” Lola continued, feeling so utterly humiliated and embarrassed. She felt guilty for scaring everyone, and she did it all for nothing. It didn’t even work. She was still here.

“Sweetheart, listen to me.” Emily spoke. Lola turned her head, looking at her parents who seemed to do everything not to break down. “You have nothing to be sorry for. It is not your fault that you’re hurting, okay?” Lola still felt guilty, but she nodded, not wanting her parents to worry anymore. Although, she doubted they would ever stop worrying. They would never trust her to be alone again. She closed her eyes, wanting the ground to just swallow her whole. “We are here for you. Me, your dad, the entire team too. We love you so much, baby.” Lola swallowed her sobs, wanting to ask a question.

“Are you mad at me?” She whispered, her voice trembling. “Is the team mad at me?”

“No, no, no.” Emily shook her head, the concerned frown on her face that she so often had.

“No one is mad at you.” Aaron spoke. “No one. We’re worried, honey. We all love you and we care about you.”

“I’m sorry.” Lola spoke, she couldn’t ever apologize enough for hurting everyone like she did. Emily shook her head, her eyes soft.

“You have nothing to be sorry for.”

[wereoz]

Aaron’s mask was untouched. Initially it was suspected he had not participated, but he claims it was intentional. When asked to elaborate he stated that “white is what happens when you mix all the colors together and sometimes that’s how I feel…like I’m everyone else’s…whatever…all mixed together.” When pointed out that his statement implied that he was not his own person Aaron just shrugged and grew quiet.

yes hello hi im back w/ more art . . . this time fanart of a cm fanfic series ‘crazy is as crazy does’ on ao3. i rlly enjoyed it im gonna ramble on why under the cut ^_^

lemme tell u i love the characterisation: hotch (&emily) in this fic r so precious to me. mentally unstable, homocidal, & secretly insecure teens that are just teens <3 like. okay hotch fr murdered someone yet he grieves it with that youthful intensity & ‘but i want it back’-ism bc he loved her and its so heartbreaking. AGH HIS DIARY ENTRY IS TOO!!! as is every reference to What Is Wrong with him :(( <//3

and!! i’ve never read a foyet/anyone else thing before but hotchniss/foyet in this fic was so interesting. like, his characterisation was transformative enough that it makes so much sense!! like while also being subtle?? like nobody is making out w tongue hotch is just comfortable around them both, horny, and pretty sure emily/foyet r into each other. emily/foyet r just enabling each other while they also make hotch let loose, while hotch introduces some sweetness into emily’s life . . . it just Works

[the-queen-and-the-king]

Hotchniss headcanons

As I did with my Hotch-centered fanfic side blog, here are my headcanons about Hotchniss.

When he was still maried to Haley, Aaron felt nothing for Emily (especially that he thought she was planted there by Strauss to stab him in his back).

When Aaron and Haley got divorced, he surprisingly turned himself to Emily to confess his pain and anger about the situation and she didn't betray him talking about what she knew to the others (she was the only one to know about the cheating thing).

Knowing the truth about each other (Emily not being by Strauss side and Aaron being cuckolded), they slowly got more and more attracted to each other.

Very professional both of them, they knew that a not-platonic relationship was forbidden and would have ruined all the harmony of the team, so they tried to hide their feelings as much as they could.

They stayed very formal all the time, even during their free-time (like, they always called themselves Hotch and Prentiss) because they're afraid of what would happen if they started to be too friendly.

But when Aaron has to leave, he asked for Emily to become the new unit chief, not because he loved her, but because he thought that she was the most qualified for this task.

Now, what about the fanfics I was talking about in the pinned post:

1st sequel: It happens after the end of the show (I don't watch CME). Emily is the BAU unit chief and she needs some advice from Aaron. She suggested to discuss about it around a drink and... it all ends in a bedroom. :D

2nd sequel (AU): Same timeline and same position for Emily, but the team has discovered that Aaron didn't get retired. Because of what Mr. Scratch did, he had a psychotic break and ended up into a psychiatric institution for quite a long time. The team "helps" him to get out of this place and Emily offers to take care of Aaron during his recovery...

Third text (what if): Aaron has guessed that Emily was in France when she was under witsec. He took a flight to talk to her, to confess his feelings for her far away from the team and Jack. And Emily shared hers too.

What about the relationship with Jack?

1st sequel: It's complicated. The teenager doesn't want his father to be alone when he's about to go to university, but he dislikes to discover all the sexual stuff this situation implied (he's sixteen, his hormones are going crazy).

2nd sequel: Very good. He knows Emily, he likes her and he's glad to see her around his father going better and better.

Third text: Never better. Jack is barely six and he's just happy to see his father happy again. And Emily is awesome!

Kids?

1st sequel: you'll see.

2nd sequel: you'll see.

Third text: You'll see. Soon. :D

Now, I'm going to talk about sexual interactions so minors DNI, please.

Aaron is heterosexual. Maybe demi-sexual as he can stay away from any sexual intercourses for a very long time and it doesn't bother him at all.

Emily is bisexual. She doesn't care about her partner to be male or female. Aaron knows it and he doesn't care.

Aaron started at fourteen. Emily started at fifteen. He was in boarding school. She was in Italy.

They don't have specific place for sex.

They do it in cars (1st and 2n sequels, What If). Even in FBI cars (2nd sequel and What If).

They do it in movie theater (never mentioned actually, but I might write a one-shot about it).

They do it in a plane (never mentioned too, but 1st sequel).

Well, they do it everywhere: bedroom, bathroom, living-room, kitchen, shower, bathtub, couch, bed, table, furniture, wall, floor...

They don't have specific positions either, but Emily appreciates to do it sitting, face to face, when Aaron appreciates her to be the top (for the view...).

She wasn't fond of doggy-style before she meet him (because of the submissive sub-context of it), but she changed her mind really quickly.

He wasn't used to blowjob (because Haley and then Beth (1st and 2nd sequels) weren't into it), but finally started to appreciate it with her.

He can eat her to the end without the need to take her then. She has a real kink for feeling him cuming inside her.

She can be very vocal when he is clearly the mute type.

And I think it's all for today.

___

Remember, this are all headcanons, so you can think otherwise and it's perfectly okay. :)

[em-prentiss]

it always leads to you (in my hometown)

-----

Unrelated snippets of hotchniss based on every song in evermore.

Emily presses a hand into his chest and he goes willingly, head thudding against the pillow as he looks up at her.

Maybe it’s not her strength, after all. Perhaps she just makes him pliant. “I missed you too,” she breathes.

Word count: 4.2k

Warning: number 10 contains implied domestic violence

Another warning: number 12 is mildly on crack, idk what happened there. Don't take it too seriously <3

-----

1.

the more that you say, the less I know 

wherever you stray, I follow 

Emily leans her head on her arm, her eyes slowly raking over him. “Penso di essere un po’ innamorato di te,” she murmurs, her voice low and gravelly. 

“What?” Aaron asks, fairly sure the bits he heard over the pounding music weren’t English. Emily sighs and takes his drink, tipping it back and standing up. She half stumbles out of the booth and moves to stand in front of him.

She extends her hand. “Balla con me?”

Aaron looks up at her in confusion. “I don’t really understand—”

She leans forward and grabs his hand, wrapping her fingers around his large palm and insistently pulling him up. She tugs and he moves, almost in a daze, the heat of her hand shutting his brain off.

Emily smiles and pulls him to the dance floor. Aaron’s feet follow hers into the throngs of people until she stops, takes his other hand to place it on her waist.

“Balla con me.” Emily repeats, letting go of his hands and looping her own around his neck. Aaron swallows as her chest presses into his, heartstrings tugging when she looks up at him with dark eyes.

“Okay,” he breathes, wrapping his hand more firmly around her waist. She beams at him and his heart aches as it pounds. “I’ll dance with you.”

2.

now I’m missing your smile, hear me out 

we could just ride around

and the road not taken looks real good now

“It’s weird that Clyde would send only you to go over a case,” Aaron muses as they stop at a red light.

Emily’s heart stumbles. “What, you think I can’t do it?” She toys with her hair absentmindedly, swallowing as her eyes trace over the line of his jaw. “If I can’t check out a case on my own I have no business running a team.”

He looks over at her and smiles. Her breath catches; she knows she’s caught out. Aaron sees it on her face, in the slightly tensed line of her shoulders, but he lets it go for now. He has precious few moments with her. He won’t squander them.

“That brings me to my next point,” he murmurs.

“Uh oh,” Emily quips, but her heart races. She knows what’s coming, knows what he’s going to ask and desperately doesn’t want him to. Being here makes it all shaky, makes her pliant and shortsighted and all too willing to say yes.

“Isn’t it time?” He ventures hesitantly as he drives off again, past familiar roads and sprawling parks. It’s a question he revisits whenever she does; hoping.

Emily looks out the window. “Nah,” she says, clenching her fingers into a fist to stop herself from pressing them against the window, trace out the shape of DC she knows in her sleep. “I like being in charge.”

3.

if it’s all in my head, tell me now

tell me I’ve got it wrong somehow 

She trips and he steadies her and they’re just a little too close; he can see the freckles on her cheeks, the deep, bottomless brown of her eyes. His eyes drop down to her lips.

Emily stops breathing. His hand on her arm burns, even through her clothes. She looks up, he’s still looking down. She places her hand on his jacket and he startles, shakes his head as if forcing himself from his thoughts, and lets go of her arm.

His eyes flit to hers and away. He steps back and stuffs his hands in his pockets, clearing his throat as Emily’s hand drops from his body. It’s been months of this; his lingering hands and wandering gaze, her batted lashes and his jacket around her shoulders. A ghostly dance, and this time it makes her break.

“Am I imagining it?” She demands harshly, the still burning skin of her arm making her snap. His eyes are back on hers. “Do you want me or is it all in my head? Is it just-”

Aaron surges forward before she can finish, his hands back on her body; her cheek, sliding into her hair as pulls her in and kisses her. She sags against him, lips lifting in satisfaction when he crushes her to his chest.

“Not in your head.” He rasps. 

She’s the one who kisses him this time.

4. 

dappled with the flickers of light

from the dress I wore at midnight 

The warm lights hit her sequined dress and reflect on Aaron’s skin, dancing, moving when she does. 

When he looks down and finds no light on his skin he frowns, turning his head in search of her. Distantly, he hears someone say there’s a minute left, so he takes two champagne flutes and goes to search for the light.

He finds her in the kitchen, snacking on the fancy hors d’oeuvres Dave supplied. “It’s almost midnight,” Aaron smiles as he approaches, enjoying the way her cheeks tint pink. Light once again dances on his skin.

“I was hungry,” she whispers, placing another mini something in her mouth. Aaron hands her a flute; they’re in the single digits now. She shakes her head, “I can’t have it.”

He frowns. “What? Why not?”

She tilts her head, an amused smile on her face as the thoughts race in his head. It only takes a moment before his eyes widen, “You’re-”

“Yeah,” Emily bites her lip. His breath hitches.

The clock strikes twelve.

She grabs his face and kisses him, the cheers and clinks of champagne flutes lost behind them. He grips her hips as his heart expands, pounds against his ribs, and holds her close when her lips leave his.

“Happy new year,” she breathes. She gives him a small smile and his heart explodes. “God,” Aaron chokes out as he pulls her into a hug. He feels her laugh into his skin, soft and sweet and just for him.

Her light seeps through his skin, right into his bones.

5.

I never was ready, so I watch you go 

She mentally kicks herself when she sees him dance with her, his large hand wrapping around her small one. Emily peeks around Reid’s shoulder, his lanky hand in hers, the delicate bones beneath her fingers reminding her who she’s dancing with.

It could’ve been her. In his arms, tucked under his chin. She wonders if he’s whispering sweet nothings in her ear.

Beth laughs and Emily’s stomach fills with acid, something nauseating that makes her pull her eyes away from the brunette. They involuntarily fall on him. Her breath hitches when she finds him already looking at her, brows slightly furrowed over those eyes she saw up close only once.

The song must’ve ended because he’s in front of her suddenly, his hand reaching for hers—distantly, she sees Beth walk over to Reid with a smile.

She tried to resent him for it—she really did—but she couldn’t muster it, not even now when she saw him dance with her. No one would spend their life waiting after just a single kiss and the promise of maybe. He’s already waited seven months, and she didn’t even look at him when she came back.

She couldn’t.

“I’m going to London.” She says quietly. He stops moving, his hand faltering on her back—just a little too low to be appropriate. It’s going to be the second time she leaves, but she won’t keep him waiting anymore.

He’s got someone else anyway.

6.

and I’ve cleaned enough houses

to know how to cover up a scene

“Stay still,” Aaron murmurs.

If anything it makes her shift more. “It fucking stings,” she hisses, trying to pull her palm from his hand. Aaron glares up at her as the glass jostles deeper into her skin.

“It wouldn’t fucking sting if you hadn’t had to climb the fence, Emily. Which you wouldn’t have done if you hadn’t snuck out.”

Emily rolls her eyes. “Am I supposed to just stick to curfew?” She huffs, as if the thought of staying home past one in the morning is unthinkable.

Aaron shakes his head and focuses back on her hand. “Just stay still,” he scowls. She closes her eyes, shivering when he drops another piece of glass onto the counter with a plink. He softens when she shudders, lifts the tweezers to give her a break before she nods.

He wraps her hand in a bandage when he’s done, splashing water into the sink and hurrying to clean the blood off the counter before it dries.

“How’d you get it on the mirror?” He mutters as he wipes away the bloody palm print. Emily glares at him. “The details are a bit hazy.”

Aaron snorts as he gathers the glass into a towel. “I’ll bet.” He stuffs it in his pocket and rinses the tweezers before placing them back in the medical kit.

“Bedtime, Miss Prentiss,” he taps his watch as she drops down from the counter.

“Fuck you, Aaron.” She calls out as she leaves the bathroom, hand held to her chest.

He smiles. “You’re welcome.”

7.

but it’s never too late to come back to my side

Aaron opens the door without looking through the peephole, starting when he sees the figure in his hallway.

“Emily?” He gapes. He takes in the bags at her feet, her rumpled coat covering tired shoulders. Here, right in front of him, he sees the weary lines their Facetimes hide, lying unseen beneath a blurry screen. His heart starts to race. “What are you doing here?”

Emily shrugs, attempting nonchalance, but her movements are too stiff. “I don’t really like the rain much.” She laughs and it breaks, her face crumpling as she bites her lip between her teeth, presses a palm into her eyes.

She can’t stay away anymore. 

Aaron steps out into the hallway and takes her in his arms, feels the way she shudders against him. “Hey, it’s okay honey,” he soothes, closing his eyes and breathing in the scent of her hair. He tightens his grip on her, feels her tighten her grip right back.

“We’ve got plenty of sun here, Em.” He murmurs, his heart lifting when she laughs shakily. “Let’s go inside.” He rubs her back and leads her in, her bags forgotten in front of his door.

She sleeps in his arms that night, her favorite blanket still on her side of the bed, as if she never even left.

8.

did I close my fist around something delicate?

did I shatter you?

Work was supposed to be safe. Middle ground.

His shoulders tense when he hears Haley’s voice. Her eyes are lit up as she says something about a trip to the park, her smile wide and glinting almost as brightly as the ring on her finger. She talks but her words are static in his ears as he feels Emily’s eyes bore into his back. 

“Dada,” Jack babbles and extends his hands for him. Emily is frozen in place as Aaron picks him up, turns away to block her from his sight. His body heats, his skin growing itchy under his suit as the dread settles in his stomach.

His son—Jack—is tiny in his arms, and when he turns, she sees Aaron’s eyes beneath his sandy hair. She can’t breathe. Her lungs collapse, her ribs fracture and their sharp tips press into her heart, sending it bleeding once more.

They were just doing okay, able to be in the same room alone without either of them bolting. Her eyes got used to the sight of his ring. But she didn’t get used to this.

He meets her eyes over his son’s head, the quickest glimpse of deep brown before he turns to his wife. Emily tears her eyes away from them and stands up, steadying herself on her desk when she stumbles.

She walks past them, a blur of red and black and familiar perfume as she forces her shaky legs into the bathroom, the tape over her heart breaking free with how hard it pounds.

She’d just put it together.

9.

gleaming, twinkling

eyes like sinking ships on waters

so inviting, I almost jump in

He’d never thought much of the color brown. His usual impression of it was dull, murky, somewhat suffocating to look at.

Then he saw her eyes.

Coffee, chestnut, umber. Burnt honey when the sun hits them, lighting them up from within. When she gets excited, they’re almost like the darkness of the sky, unending and shimmering with stars.

She laughs, for what reason he doesn’t know—he thinks there’s a cat chasing her ankles. She trips over it and stumbles into him, her fists clutching his coat to steady herself. His arm automatically wraps around her waist.

“Sorry,” Emily grins, her eyes finally leaving the cat and meeting his. They’re like the bitter coffee he drinks to wake himself up, only Aaron knows this is infinitely more sweet. They’re bright and wide with amusement, the darkness of her lashes matching the darkness of her irises, almost indistinguishable from her pupils. His breath hitches.

Black holes, that’s what they are. And he’s tumbling into them.

The sun peeks out from behind the clouds and suddenly he’s looking into syrupy pools of brown, flecked with amber. God, his knees almost buckle. Now it’s her holding him up, instead of the other way around.

Aaron holds her cheek, unconsciously. “Can I kiss you?” He rasps.

They darken back to black.

10.

I’d live and die for moments that we stole

on begged and borrowed time

This, Emily thinks as he thumbs through her hair, an arm tight around her waist and his beating heart beneath her ear. This is what breathes life into her when she’s ashy and crumbling, just on the verge of cracking beneath Ian’s rough palm. Aaron’s hands are gentle, safe, tucking her farther into him and shielding her body with his. But only for so long.

“He’ll come back soon,” her voice cracks.

“Emily,” Aaron cups her face, his eyes pained. She’s suddenly thankful for the turtleneck she’s wearing. “You don’t have to keep doing this, sweetheart. Leave him,” he begs.

“I can’t,” she whispers, bile rising in her throat as she fists his jacket, her wedding ring a searing brand against her skin. 

Gravel crunches outside. Emily’s heart jumps to her throat. “You have to go.” She shoves Aaron to the window he climbed in from, her hands urgent.

“Em-”

“Please,” she chokes out, shoulders tensing when she hears the front door slam shut.

They don’t have time, but he presses his lips to her forehead anyway. A dry sob leaves her as his hands grapple to open the window. “I’ll get you out of here,” he vows hoarsely, not for the first time. “I swear I will.”

“Go.” Emily pleads. She turns her back on him and wipes her eyes with shaky hands, her heart pounding in time with Ian’s steps.

11.

with your boots beneath my bed

forever is the sweetest con

It’s a familiar sight. Her boots haphazardly toed off and kicked under his bed, a mix of their clothes trailing across his usually pristine floors. Her suitcase stands next to the door. It’ll be gone within hours, along with her.

It’s a familiar dance; her limbs twisted around his, her fingers tangled in his hair, her skin soft against his own. “Missed you,” he rasps into her neck, the words slipping free from his lips, his mind hazy with her, her, her. Her soft sighs and soft skin and soft smile, all for him.

“Yeah?” He hears the teasing in her voice. 

Aaron hums. With some inhuman strength he still doesn’t have an explanation for, she twists them around and presses him into the mattress. Emily presses a hand into his chest and he goes willingly, head thudding against the pillow as he looks up at her.

Maybe it’s not her strength, after all. Perhaps she just makes him pliant. “I missed you too,” she breathes.

For a moment he lets himself hope. 

She tucks herself into his side and kisses his jaw before she falls asleep. Aaron wakes to soft hands trailing across his skin, combing through his hair. She smiles drowsily, her lashes edged in gold, and he entertains the thought of having this every day, her sleep warm skin under his hands and her nose bumping his.

Then her alarm rings. Aaron tries to hold her tighter in his arms, but the pull is inevitable; London calling.

She could never resist.

12.

when I dropped my sword

I threw it in the bushes and knocked on your door

Her vision blurs as she stumbles down the hall. Just get to his door, she tells herself. Emily bites her lip and ignores the throbbing in her side, forcing her legs to move.

She finally reaches the door and raises her hand to knock, belatedly realizing the bloody knife is still in her fist. Emily tosses it next to his doormat and sags against the wood, raising her hand to ring the bell. The door opens and she falls into him.

“Jesus Christ.”

Emily groans when his palm presses against her wound, the pain making her knees buckle. Aaron catches her before she hits the ground. 

“What the fuck, Emily?” He hisses in alarm, his voice pitching higher at the wetness of her blood on his skin. He picks her up and carries her into his apartment, shutting the door with his foot and ignoring the way she curses weakly.

“What the hell happened?” He demands as he sets her down on the kitchen counter, paling at the way her shirt sticks to her abdomen with blood.

“Don’ worry, s’okay,” Emily reassures and pats his cheek, leaving a bright red smear on his jaw, “I killed ’em babe, they’re gone,” she slurs and promptly falls into his neck, her vision going black.

“Oh, fucking hell.” Aaron 

curses.

13.

if I didn’t know better 

I’d think you were still around

(I know better

but I still feel you, all around) 

She lingers. Emily’s presence was always hard to ignore, but he never expected it would stay after she’d left.

She never leaves him. For a moment, he wishes she would. He goes to make coffee, tries to wake up from the thick fog she left his brain in, and finds Splenda packets when he opens the cabinets in search of a spoon. He opens his drawer for a long lost file and her badge tumbles out, her picture grinning up at him carelessly. He doesn’t even know why he pocketed it, can’t recall when, only that he felt a lump in his pocket and took it out, his finger tracing over her name.

It’s penance, he thinks when she creeps into his mind yet again—this time because Jack wonders why he can’t see Sergio. Her voice echoes; sometimes the light teasing he remembers, sometimes accusatory, demanding why he didn’t figure out what was wrong. Aaron blinks and her blurry silhouette only sharpens, in the empty seat next to him in the jet, on top of her desk that he can see from his window. She’s gone, gone, gone, he tells himself. But she’s not.

He faked her death, so she’s haunting him. It’s only fair. But he can’t take it anymore.

In the shower, the water pelting down on him mixes with the warm salt running down his cheeks. His head falls back against the tiles with a thud, and he speaks into the steam.

“Go away,” his voice cracks. “You’re not here. Go away.”

She doesn’t, so he does.

She still follows him.

14. 

and I was catching my breath 

floors of a cabin creaking under my step 

He toes off his shoes and carefully climbs the stairs, shoulders slumping as the comfort of his home settles over him.

He quietly opens the door, holds his breath as he steps on the hardwood floor of his and Emily’s room. He smiles at the shapeless lump of her under the covers, the dark spill of her hair the only thing visible. He’s so focused on her he accidentally walks over the creaking step next to their bed.

Emily stirs. “Aaron?” She mumbles, her voice thick with sleep.

He curses himself when her dark head lifts off the pillow, hair tangled and mussed. Her bleary eyes meet his. “Hi, honey,” he whispers, “sorry I woke you.”

She hums something unintelligible as he takes off his suit and slips into a pair of sweatpants. Her eyes are closed when he slides in next to her, the sheets on his side still cool, waiting for him.

Selfishly, he’s glad he woke her. He wraps an arm around her and brings her close, leaning down to press a lingering kiss on her forehead. Emily curls into him, slowly hitches her leg over his hip.

“So glad you’re home,” she slurs, her words melting into a sigh. Aaron smiles as she slots her face into his neck, her breaths already evening out.

“Me too.”

15.

seeing the shape of your name

still spells out pain 

It catches her off guard. She’d thought she’d cleaned everything out, replaced all of his things with hers even as the betrayal of it scorched her lungs. 

Apparently not. 

Something rolls around as she opens her desk drawer, something she knows isn’t hers. It thuds against the wood, settles on top of her files in a way that makes her wonder how the hell she never saw it before.

Her hand trembles as she reaches for it, the pen sleek and heavy as it slots between her fingers. His name glints in silver, A. Hotchner engraved onto the side. She would’ve laughed if the tears weren’t choking her as they climbed up her throat, because who even engraves their name onto a pen anymore?

Instead she runs her thumb over it, tries to press the last trace of him into her skin. It’s fruitless; the surface is flat, smooth, leaving her with nothing. Not for the first time.

“Damn you, Aaron,” her voice cracks as she tosses the pen in the trash. She leans back into her chair—his chair—and curls her knees into her chest, feels irrational tears splash against her slacks.

Maybe she should feel guilty about throwing away something so expensive—something that isn’t even hers.

But she knows he won’t come back to collect.

16.

sometimes, givin’ up is the strong thing

sometimes, to run is the brave thing 

Aaron opens her bedroom door. His blood runs cold when he sees her kneeling on the floor, clothes on either side of her. 

“What are you doing?” He breathes, walking in and shutting the door tightly behind him.

“What does it look like I’m doing?” Emily snaps as she throws clothes into her suitcase. They form a mountain, piled high and precarious, but right now she’s just focusing on putting everything in.

“You can’t let her get to you—” He places a hand on her wrist.

She shoves it off. “How many more times can I take it, Aaron?” Her voice cracks as she leans back on her heels to look up at him. “How many more times will I let her belittle and humiliate me? She’s poison,” she spits out, standing up to grab her textbooks.

Emily tosses them into her bag, not caring how their expensive covers bend. Her hand shakes as she pushes her hair back from her sweaty face, her eyes meeting his. “I won’t take any more,” she whispers.

Aaron’s heart pinches with something like pride. Her hands shake, her lips tremble, but she’s forced her shoulders back. Unwavering. 

He nods and reaches for her messily piled clothes, taking a shirt and folding it neatly. “I’m coming with you.”

17. 

but if you ever think you got it wrong

I’m right where you left me

Andrew slides his hands up her shoulders and squeezes. Emily tenses as his fingers brush the skin in the hollow of her neck, the skin she always keeps covered because it’s where he loved to touch her. Andrew’s fingers skate along the spot, his voice loud as he leans over her to say something in her ear.

It’s not the voice she wants. His hand is oppressive, choking, and she finally jerks away, the plate she was washing clattering into the sink.

“I’ll be right back,” she chokes out, avoiding his gaze and his too dark skin as she grabs her car keys, ignoring his confused questions and the fact that she’s wearing slippers.

It’s instinct, driving to his place. She doesn’t even have to think; her feet know the way, her mind knows the road. Unbuckling her seatbelt and pressing number 3 in the elevator is muscle memory.

She knows everything, except what to say when he opens the door. His eyes flit to the exposed skin above her tank top and back to her eyes, shying away as if he hadn’t marked it a million times before.

His brows furrow and his mouth opens, likely in dismissal, but she beats him to it.

“I think I made a mistake.”

[hotchley]

lauren: aaron and emily

Yeah so for something that is meant to be a conversation, there’s a surprising lack of her speaking but honestly, this was so much fun to write. I forgot how angsty Hotchniss could be like DAMN

This is my take on what happened at her bedside before they moved her, and is dedicated to everyone who said they would read it because without you guys, I probably wouldn’t have actually written it so thank you so much!

Trigger Warnings: serious medical injuries, references to abortion, implied/referenced child abuse, religious themes

read on ao3!

“You could’ve told me,” he tells her, even though she can’t hear him. Her eyes are closed. If it wasn’t for the rise and fall of her chest- so faint it almost isn’t there- he would believe she was dead.

And in some ways, she is. 

To the team, Emily Prentiss is gone. Just another victim of a dangerous serial killer with a vendetta. To the children that love her- Jack, Henry, even Carrie, who she still spoke to once a week- she will be in heaven. With Haley. To Aaron and Jennifer, she will be hiding. Alone and weak but safe.

Safe. He wants to laugh at that. How can she be safe when everyone she loved is being torn from her? When Ian Doyle is still alive? 

He doesn't want to be the one to tell her she was dead. He doesn't want to be the one to tell her that she had to go to Paris- the one place that had never been touched by the bloody hands of murder and pain- until they found Doyle. If they ever do find him. He doesn't want to let her go.

He wants to bury his head in her hair, inhaling the familiar smell of her shampoo that had always felt like the safety he craved but could never hold onto and pretend the sea wasn't pulling him under, cutting off his breathing as he struggled to stay afloat. He wants to hold her, hearing the steady and strong beat of her heart that reminds him of the reason for doing all of this. He wants to feel her hands- so warm and soft- against his stomach as she draws on his ribs so he can look in the mirror and see her, not George Foyet.

He wants so much. But there is a reason he is the Unit Chief. There is a reason he is in the room with her whilst JJ comforts a crying Reid. There is a reason that when the team thinks of Mom, they think of him. Not Rossi. Certainly not Gideon.

He does the difficult jobs. He does the things that need to be done but nobody else wants to. He cleans the blood off walls and stands guard at hospital beds. He pulls them away from dead bodies and witnesses their anger and sadness. He takes their insults and cradles them when they cry. He pretends he isn't human so they can believe they didn't hurt him. 

He does the difficult jobs because he brought all of them into a life of loss and pain, and in his opinion, it is a small price to pay. It is less than what he deserves to do. It isn't enough to make up for everything he has caused them to see but it is a start.

When Emily leaves- and JJ will go to Paris with her, no matter how much she may say he should go instead- he will carry out their grief assessments. He will let them look at him with pain and hurt and anger and sadness and ask him what the point is. As they ask him why they are alive. 

And then he will run. Because they will find Ian Doyle, and when they do, Emily Prentiss will return. They will hate him, and he will be a coward. He will take a job elsewhere and let them repair their lives, rebuild their home, without him.

But until that day comes, he will sit by Emily's bed, holding her hand, limp and cold, and pray for her to wake up. He hasn't prayed since he was a child. And even then, he didn't really believe in God. But desperate people will do anything. And although he was calm and collected before the committee that decided Emily's fate, he is desperate for her to just wake up.

So he will atone for his sins and take whatever punishment is deemed appropriate. He will let her go and never inhale her perfume again, if only so she is able to open her eyes.

"You could've told me," he repeats, thinking about the last woman he said those words too. But that had been different. JJ wasn't Emily. "I could've helped you. You could've trusted me with this. And I know it isn't about me. It's about you. But I'm selfish, Emily Prentiss. I'm selfish and I don't want to let you go but I have to."

He doesn't know how to. He doesn't know what he's meant to say when she wakes up and only sees him. JJ had looked at him when she said Emily never made it off the table. It was a single glance, but he'd understood. He had walked away from the team. Refused to let his tears fall.

And then he had looked the committee in the eye and told them he had no emotional attachment to her case. He had lied. And Emily had, in their words, been saved. He didn't believe it was saving her. He believed it was keeping her alive so one day, she could come home and live a better life. 

The woman on that bed is not his Emily. It is not the Emily he loves, or the Emily that told him he wasn't alone. It's not the Emily that dances around the kitchen with Jack, or the Emily that refuses to flinch when he has nightmares. The Emily that never walked away from him until that one fateful day.

He should have known something was wrong then. And if not then, when she was late twice in the same week. But he had been so blinded by his own hurt and anger and betrayal that he refused to comment. Secretly, vindictively, he had hoped that her lateness was being caused by her own pain. That she was trying to avoid him. 

Now he realises that he was right. She was trying to avoid him. Because he knew her. And if she saw him properly, she would crack. And in the same way he had been determined to find Foyet alone, without anyone else going down with him, she had been determined to find Doyle alone.

But Foyet had still killed Haley. And Doyle had technically killed her. In some ways, he had killed the team too. He didn't know how to bring up Spencer's migraines with him, but Emily had been his confidant. What was going to happen now? How is Derek supposed to move past being told to let her go? 

The doctors had told him to get some rest and to go home, but he can't. Jack is still with Jessica, and his apartment is still littered with scraps of her. He hadn't moved anything after that night. He had thought it was strange when she didn't ask for any of it. Now he knows why. She had bigger things going on.

He told Clyde Easter that it would be his fault if something happened to her. Because he needed someone else to blame. He needed to believe that he was a good man that had done what he could. But he hadn't. Rational thought told him that just like with everyone else, he couldn't force her to tell him the truth or accept his help.

The part of him that was still helplessly in love with her told him that he could have. Should have. But he hadn't. So now he was sitting there, watching the heart monitor, convincing himself she was alive. Bracing himself for the moment she woke up.

He still doesn't know what he's meant to say.

"I was so angry at you then. After everything we had gone through, I didn't understand why you were just so willing to throw it all away. You had told me you would never leave, and you just left me there, in the home we had finally started to build. But I get it now. And I am sorry. I am so, so sorry that I wasn't enough and that I didn't do more and-"

"Aaron," she whispered. Her eyes had fluttered open moments after he'd started speaking, but she hadn't been ready to confront the world. He needed to get the words out. He needed a moment to be Aaron before he morphed back into Hotch.

She has no right to his name. Not now. Not after everything she has put him through. Not after she left him on his knees, a ring so different from the one Ian had tried to give her that still symbolised the exact same thing, with tears in his eyes as she pretended he was nothing in order to protect him.

But she needed him. She was cold, and her stomach hurt, and she didn't know where she was. She didn't understand why it was so dark, or why only he was there, apologising. The team should have been waiting. He should have been smiling, looking slightly disapproving. Not crying. He wouldn't risk any of the team seeing him like that.

He looks up. "Emily," he whispers, pouring every inch of his heart into that single word. But as he says it, he is looking at her hairline. Not her eyes. He knows that if he looks at her eyes, he will crumble. And now she is awake, he cannot let himself do that.

He forgets that Emily knows everything about him. She knows the optimum temperature for his baths. She knows the way he takes his coffee, the fact that he hates two-in-one shampoo and conditioner but keeps it in his go bag for ease. She knows which nightmares lead to a cold shower that chills him to the bone and reminds him of his own fragility.

She knows that his own humanity terrifies him. She knows how he shuts down and avoids everything when it gets too overwhelming, which is how she knows whatever has happened is bad. Worse than bad.

"Where is everyone?" she asks, shocked by the weakness of her voice.  

He doesn't reply. He knows that he needs to. That with every moment that passes, she comes up with another scenario. But he didn't need to tell the team that she never made it off the table. Until now, he has been able to pretend that none of this is even happening. That when she opened her eyes, he would guide the others down to her room. 

That when they discharged her from the hospital, he would take her to his apartment, Jack's toys strewn across the living room and the carpet, which if you looked at it from just the right angle would see had been changed in one area.

"Hotch," she whispers.

He closes his eyes for a few seconds. When he opens them, there is no warmth behind his stare. He still won't meet her eyes, and she feels herself begin to panic. His biggest tell is when he refuses to look at someone.

"They believe you're dead," he says, voice completely monotone as he fights a wave of emotion.

"Then why haven't you gone and told them that I'm not?" she asks, already terrified of the answer.

He looks down. "Emily, I'm so sorry. I am so, so sorry. You don't need to forgive me, but I need you to know that there was no other way to keep you safe. I tried. I tried so hard, but there was no other way-" he inhaled, snatching his hand back the moment she tried to hold it.

It hurt, more than anything that had happened over the past weeks, to see how he did not trust her. Not anymore.

"I always said that the only person that wouldn't forgive you is yourself. And I stand by that. So tell me the truth. Please Aaron. Just tell me what happened because I can't remember and it is terrifying, and you know what it is like. Please," she whispered. She tried, once more, to take his hand, but she was too weak.

He did not know what it was like to not remember what had happened. He remembered everything Foyet had done to him, from the first time the knife had touched his skin to the moment he had lost consciousness. He had never told her that. He probably never would.

"It's to keep you safe," he said, trying to find the words to explain what had happened. But like the ability to save the people he loved, they evaded him.

"Safe," she repeated. Like she didn't know what the word meant anymore. Maybe she didn't. Maybe she never had. There had been a time where his arms were the safest place she could find herself, but the man sitting in front of her was not the one that had held her at night.

The man sitting in front of her was a coward.

He flinches at her tone. It's been so long since she's spoken to him like that- snapping her words and rolling her eyes- that he's forgotten what it felt like. He wonders how. Her words always managed to meet their mark.

"Yes Em." The Em slips out without meaning to. He doesn't get to call her Em anymore. "Safe."

"Ian Doyle has murdered every single person on that team apart from Clyde Easter. Explain to me how I'm going to be safe."

"He's going to believe you're dead," he says, too quietly for her to hear. He says it to himself because he too needs to believe she's dead. In some ways, she is because she'll never be the woman she was before, and it's all his fault.

She frowns, the words not quite processing as her head still hurts from the painkillers. All she can say to him is: "What?"

She deserves more than what he can give. So he ignores his own shattered heart, and finally, finally meets her eyes. His own pain and anguish is reflected in hers. She almost looks away because she cannot handle his humanity. Almost. Her desire to prove she is better than he believes wins out, so she carries on staring.

"Ian Doyle hurt you. Badly. So-" he pauses again. Desperately tries to find that neutrality he had always stressed the importance of. He fails, because just like with Foyet, this isn't just a victim of a heinous crime. It's the woman that holds whatever pieces of his heart that still exist this time. Even as she had walked away, leaving him on his knees, he knew he would never stop loving her.

"So what, Aaron?" she presses, sounding angry.

It scares him, her anger. Everyone's anger scares him. He hates it, hates that his father still holds that kind of grip on him and his mind, but the moment someone seems angry he feels himself shutting down and becoming smaller. Drifting away to a fictional world where nobody cries and he's safe. 

He doesn't deserve to shut down now.

"Everyone thinks you're dead because that's what we've told them. And they will think you're dead until we find Ian Doyle and-" he doesn't finish his sentence. Ian Doyle needs to die before Emily can come home to him and the team. But if he tells her that, she will realise he is not the good man she believes him to be. He is just one misstep away from becoming an unsub they cannot find.

"They think I'm dead," she says, tears in her eyes as all the pain she has been repressing since the first sign of Ian's return suddenly makes itself known. She doesn't feel anything physically- the sedatives are working- but it feels like her heart is being ripped from her chest.

For a moment, she wonders if Aaron felt like this when Haley died.

"I'm sorry," he says, again. It's what his vocabulary has been reduced to. He doesn't know how to put everything he wants to say into words. He doesn't know what the point in doing that is, because it won't change anything.

JJ is taking her to Paris. She deserves that. She needs that. She needs to see something good. He doesn't deserve to see Emily smiling and healing enough to travel. He deserves the anger and hatred of the team. He already knows that when it's time for them to know, he will tell them how it was him.

"You're sorry."

"Emily, please, I am trying to keep you safe, so just let me tell you what's going to happen. When the doctor gets here, they're moving you somewhere out of state, and as soon as you're strong enough, JJ will go with you. Paris, I think. She'll be your point of contact." It comes out in all one breath because if he stops he won't be able to start again.

"Are you?"

"Am I?"

"Are you really trying to keep me safe, or is this about you? Because I told Derek to let me go. I told him to let me go because Ian won't stop coming after people until I am dead. He broke out of a prison that should've held ten of him. He murdered every single person from that operation apart from Clyde Easter."

She's hurting. She's angry and hurt numb and upset and still so in love with him, but she can't hold back. Not now. She has to let go of everything and everyone she has ever cared about, and although rationally she knows it isn't his fault- it's Doyle's- she can't shout at Doyle. She can shout at Aaron though.

"Emily," he pleads, closing his eyes.

"You should've let me die," she spits. "You should have let me die because then this whole thing would be over. Ian would've got what he wanted and nobody else would be getting hurt. He'll work out I'm not dead. He will. And then the next person he kills, their blood will be on your hands."

He knows she doesn’t mean it. He knows that. It doesn’t stop him from looking at her face, at the mouth that had always felt like a firework against his own and wondering how she manages to do this to him.

“Stop,” he begs. He can’t take much more.

“Just like Haley’s,” she says before she can stop herself.

Those three words make his heart shatter all over again.

Time seems to slow down. Her own words register in her mind and her jaw drops. She presses one trembling fist to her mouth, forcing the apology down. She can't give it to him right now. He won't accept it. The other traitorously reaches out for his hand, still resting on the blanket.

He had turned away the moment she said Haley's name. When he looks at her again, eyes read and cheeks damp, his mouth is forming the word why, but no sound is coming out. He's frozen, hands trembling and there is nothing she can do to cure his pain. 

There are no words she can whisper. No medication she can count out for him. No stories of her childhood that she can distract him. There is nothing she can do because this time, it was not a serial killer scarring his stomach so every time he looked in the mirror he would see them. It was not a man that should never have had children causing him to look at her and ask what he had been thinking.

It had been her. That was the problem with profilers. They always knew where to strike. The difference was, he was too afraid to do it. She was too angry to not.

The worst part is, he doesn't reply. He doesn't say a single word, because in his head, it is what he deserves. It is what everyone has been thinking since the day of the funeral. The difference with her is that she does not hesitate to say what she thinks.

It used to make him smile. In this moment, it breaks him.

He moves from the chair. He's done his duty. And if he looks at her, he think will say something he doesn't mean. Something cruel. Something about her own issues- about how she doesn't trust him, how she is so afraid of commitment she would let the only good thing she's ever let herself have go. 

She knows that he won't. He's too good. Too afraid. It's why, before she can overthink it, she whispers one word: "Stay."

He's still close enough to hear her. She watches as slight relief, then pained love, and finally a forced and cold neutrality that she has always hated because it means people don't get to see how beautiful and painful his humanity is.

Nothing he does will ever be enough for this. He will never deserve her forgiveness. The final decision was out of his hands, but if he had just fought a little bit harder, then he could have told the team and they would be able to share the burden. He will never be good enough for her. The darkness she has carried with her since that day in Italy, even though she understands now that she too was just a child faced with an impossible decision, will never compare to his.

Her darkness was part of her beauty. His got people killed. Her, laying on that bed, is just another piece of proof. He cannot give her what she deserves, but he can give her what she wants.

And so, he stays.

Nothing she says will ever make up for those words that now feel like copper in her mouth. She will never deserve the feel of his calloused hands- some from the horrors of his childhood, others from the guitar he loved to play so much- in her own. If she had just been quicker, less of a survivor then he would be able to mourn her death instead of hiding the truth. She will never be good enough for him. The darkness he has carried with him since he was a child, a darkness that should have never been created, will never compare to hers.

His darkness is part of his humanity. Hers got people hurt. Him, heart once more in tattered shreds because of her, is just another piece of proof. She cannot give him what he deserves, but she can give him what he needs.

And so, she reaches out for him.

She takes his hands that are not coated with Haley's blood, no matter what he believes and holds them tightly. He lets her, even though every part of him screams to let go. Haley's body was cold the last time he held her. He does not want to remember Emily as this cold and fragile girl. 

But he will not take her to Paris. JJ had to stand there as they fought to keep her alive because he was frantically trying to convince people that cared more about politics than they did about real lives. She needs it.

He won't survive without it, but maybe that is for the best.

They sit like that, hands clasped in some pathetic recreation of the long nights and days they had spent together. 

When the doctors came to take her away, somewhere where he could not follow, the full extent of what was about to happen hit her.

"Aaron, I-" 

don't blame you, need you to come with me, want you to forgive yourself, regret saying no, trust you with everything I am, think you are the best man I know, didn't mean what I said- 

"I love you."

"Emily, you-" 

don't need to lie, are so much more than you give yourself credit for, are one of the most beautiful women I have ever met, cannot regret saying no, were right about Haley, were right about everything- 

"You shouldn't have said that."

She knows that. But she needed to say it in place of all the things she could never find the words for.

"Be happy for me," she says, right before the doors close.

"I'll try," he whispers, to an empty and cold room.

He doesn't. He runs instead, like the coward she accused him of being.

[pyrrhichotchniss]

today i offer u this meme. tomorrow? who knows

[sequinsmile-x]

I Know the End - Master List

She wishes they’d met earlier, that they’d had more time. Meeting him here, at the end, was cruel even by the universes standards.

A Hotchniss on the run AU, told in 3 parts

Read over on Ao3

-x-

Part 1 - Not Afraid to Disappear

Part 2 - Romanticise a Quiet Life

Part 3 - The End is Here

Part 4 - Find a New Place to be From

Warnings: Temporary/Implied character death, canon typical violence, references to trauma/PTSD, criminal activity

[reidgraygubler]

pretty little treat (hotchniss/reader)

title: pretty little treat 

Requested: no

Couple: Emily Prentiss/Fem!Reader/Aaron Hotchner

Category: SMUT

Content Warning: Sexual Content (daddy kink, lots of praise, lots of degradation, threesome (F/F/M), fingering, oral (fem), multiple orgasms, hair pulling, groping, heavy petting, teasing, hair pulling, penetrive/safe sex, implied condom use, D/s & BDSM themes, orgasm denial (1 instance), slight humiliation, fem masturbation, handjob), dirty thoughts, dirty talk, Dom!Emily, Dom!Aaron, swearing, Bi!Reader & Bi!Emily, kissing/making out, brief aftercare (consists of cuddling and praise), mentions of canon-consistent trauma (hotch’s injuries w/ foyet, emily’s injuries w/ ian doyle)

Word Count: 7,433

Summary: Emily brings home a little treat for her girlfriend.

A/N: in my rewatch I got to demonology and I suddenly wanted to write prentiss/reader/hotch smut. Thank you to @imagining-in-the-margins​ , @ontheoddoccasioniwritestuff​ , and @reidetic​ for helping me come up with a few ideas and a few other nitty-gritty things. Please, this is just pure smut that i probably had way too much fun writing. I also… binged dharma and greg while i wrote this… so this is totally domestic!hotch too o.o  ALSO thank you to @princessmooshie and @newportonmymind​ for beta-reading this for me! I totally appreciate you!  ANYWAY, thank you all so, so much for all the love and support! I seriously hope you enjoy reading this! check out my masterlist!

{***}{***}{**}

“I finished early. So I’m gonna go home.” I looked down at Emily as I wrapped my arms around her neck. She looked away from her file and turned her head to face me. 

“Okay, text me when you get home,” she whispered before pressing her lips to mine. I hummed as I leaned into her display of affection. “I have a present for you too. But you won’t get it till I get home… So don’t try looking for it.” She smiled before poking my nose. I wrinkled my nose before kissing her again. 

“Fine. I’ll see you in a bit,” I whispered as I looked at her with a soft smile. “Goodbye, BAU Family. I’ll see you tomorrow.” I stood up and looked at all the team members with a smile. 

“Have a nice night,” Aaron said as he looked at me and nodded. I smiled at him and returned the nod. I stared at him for a moment longer. I hoped it wasn’t too obvious because I didn’t mean to stare at him. It just happened. My lower lip was pulled between my teeth as my thoughts suddenly ran wild. I was just happy no one noticed, other than Emily. She totally noticed.

“Right,” clearing my throat as I spoke, “Bye guys.” I looked back at Emily before finally leaving. I kept my head low as I walked, and when I stepped on to the elevator, I noticed the way Emily was staring at me. I couldn’t tell if it was a good stare or a bad stare. I wouldn’t be surprised if I get a talking to later about that.

When I finally got to my car, I pulled my phone from my bag and looked at all the missed messages and notifications from the day. All the texts I had meant nothing to me the second I saw Emily’s name show up at the top of my screen with a new, unread messages. Swallowing roughly, I tapped the notification and read the text.

Emily>Me: Dirty girl… I saw the way you were staring at Hotch… Dirty… Dirty… Girl…

I stared at the text with wide eyes and my breathing growing shallow. Fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK. I am so fucked. She’s going to come home, drag me to bed and fuck me over. I couldn’t tell if I was scared or excited, but the way my thighs pressed together told me I was more excited than scared.

I chucked my phone back into my bag before starting my car. My hands were clenched around the steering wheel, my knuckles blanching from the tightness. Tapping the radio on and turning it up so loud to drown out my thoughts. 

But the loud classic rock, metal, jazzy blues, or any genre didn’t help me at all. I was still in my head thinking. And, they weren’t about Emily either. They were about Aaron.

The thought of sitting on Aaron’s lap, wearing nothing but his shirt. His lips on mine before trailing over my jaw and down my neck. One hand resting on my chest. While the other was resting high on my legs, his thumb brushing against my bare thigh. It was only a matter of moments before his fingers were against m- “Fuck,” I whispered before shaking my head.  

I had to pull over on the side of the road for a minute because I was starting to get distracted. And, if I wanted to get home safely, I had to stop for a minute. My head had to be clear of that. Hopefully Emily wouldn’t be home before me. I think she’d rather me be safe and show up at home later, rather than find out I got horny and in a wreck.

After a few minutes of just sitting on the side of the highway with loud music playing, while I thought about one of the grossest cases I could think of, I was finally ready to continue driving. 

My fingers tapped the top of the steering wheel, while I muttered the words to whatever song was playing over the radio. 

When I finally got home, I took a quick, and very cold shower. My thoughts were slowly becoming normal as I read over an old case file. I guess the focus on all the blood, guts, and gore help me out. It was still hard though. 

I was home alone for maybe 45 minutes, tops. Just long enough to make me be alone with my thoughts. Maybe the shower, old case, and loud music didn’t help as much as I wanted. 

I could hear the lock on the front door click to be unlocked, and the door opening. My body froze with anticipation.

“I’m home! Hope you didn’t go poking around for that little present,” Emily called from the front room. I cleared my throat slightly before speaking.

“Thank god!” I shouted from my spot on the chair. I kept my eyes on file in hand as I waited for Emily to enter the room. “Longest hour of my life…” I tried to let my tone be desperate. But I don’t think I had to try very hard. She just had to know what I wanted, without me actually saying it. I closed the file when she finally stepped into the living room.

“Sorry I kept you waiting, Kitten, I know how needy and impatient you are,” Emily spoke as she smiled at me, “Especially when you’re waiting for me.” I smiled as I stared at her for a moment. Though my smile was quick to melt away as someone stepped around her and entered the living room.

Aaron stood beside Emily, a slightly smug smile on his lips. His arms were folded over his chest as he stared back at me. I stared at him, my lips parted slightly. The feeling of shock and excitement grew in my chest, and I remembered the thoughts I had on the way home. 

“Oh, h-hi, Aaron.” I looked at him with a nervous smile on my lips. I shifted in my seat as the pair walked in my direction.

“I hope you don’t mind that I brought Aaron over. I needed his help with something.” Emily smiled as she stood behind me. I swallowed roughly as Aaron stood beside me. It was hard not to shift in my seat. A familiar… feeling growing in the pit of my stomach.

Something told me Emily didn’t need help with anything. And there’s something else to this. Why else would Aaron be here? I wouldn’t know. They’re always secretive at work. So I wouldn’t expect anything different here.

“What’s this about? Really?” I finally spoke after a long moment of silence. I looked up at Aaron as he stood beside me, his hand delicately cupping my cheek. He was looking back down at me with a certain softness in his eyes. It was weird seeing him be so… gentle. I was so used to seeing him as a hardass at the office. But here, now? I was at a loss for words. I was so lost in the way he held and caressed my face. I’m not gonna lie, forgot about Emily for half a second.

“Well, kitten, you wanted me to be nicer,” Emily started as she stood behind me. I was honestly too involved with how Aaron was looking at me and touching to actually pay attention to Emily. “But... I’m afraid I can’t do that,” she continued before she placed her hand on my chin, forcing me to look up at her. I took a deep shaky breath as my attention was now on her. “So, I brought someone who could help with that. A pretty little treat.” Her tone was deep and rough as she spoke. I swallowed roughly as we stared at each other. I could feel my heart begin to race, and my breathing pick up with each breath I took. At this point it was impossible to keep my excitement at bay.

“Emily,” Aaron cut in, forcing me to look over at him. Emily kept her eyes on me. Out of the corner of my eyes, I could see a smirk growing on her lips. “Be careful with her.” He looked up at Emily with a stern expression on his face. There was the Aaron Hotchner I was so used to seeing.

“What? She likes it when I’m rough with her. Don’t you, Kitten?” Emily asked as she looked down at me with a sarcastic smile. Suddenly I couldn’t take my eyes off Emily. I mean, of course, I couldn’t take my eyes off her. She was my world, and I was hers. I’d move Heaven and Earth for her if she asked.

“Y-yes, Ma’am,” my voice was thready as I kept my eyes on her. That was when I noticed a wandering hand going down my chest and towards the hem of my shirt. And then I remembered, we had a guest. 

“Well, maybe this one time she doesn’t want to be manhandled,” Aaron spoke softly as he slipped his hand under my shirt. My breathing grew ragged as I looked over at him. My eyes were wide as I stared at him. "Isn't that right, Princess?" he asked as he rested his hand over my bra.

“Please,” I whimpered, not taking my eyes off him. I ignored Emily as she stood above me, taking in what was happening between her girlfriend and her superior. Part of me thought she liked it. But, I know Emily well enough to know that she doesn't like it when people play with things that belong to her.  

Aaron’s smile grew soft as his fingers finally touched the soft tissue of my breast. I couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief and let my eyelids flutter shut. He was doing a great job for a minute there. My legs pressing together the longer he went on. 

That was until there was a sudden absence under my shirt. My eyes snapped open and I instantly looked at Emily. She looked down at me, a wicked grin on her lips.

“What… What was that for?” I whispered, staring at her. She smiled at me before looking up at Aaron. I glanced at Aaron and noticed he was looking back at her with the same smile as Emily. I didn’t appreciate the way they were silently having a conversation with each other with their eyes. They did that a lot too, especially at the office. 

I’m not sure what I was expecting them to do…. But I wasn’t expecting them to kiss. My mouth fell agape and my eyes widened more than before. I almost jumped out of my seat to protest, but Emily was quick to rest a hand on my shoulder to keep me in my place. I struggled watching them. Emily’s hand pressed on his chest before pushing it over his chest, then up over his shoulder under his jacket.

“Emily,” I whined, watching her finally push his jacket over his shoulders, but not yet off his frame. I stared at them as I grew increasingly impatient. “This isn’t fair,” I cried before I bit my lips together. It was getting impossible to not get frustrated at that moment. Watching two people, who I wanted to ruin me, kiss right there in front of me was so hard. They both knew that too. It was her form of tourture to me. Punishment for how I stared at Aaron before I left the BAU.

Of course, Emily knew any thought I had. She read my mind back at the office, when I was staring at Aaron the way I was. She probably knew that I had more thoughts while I was driving home. It was also probably why she brought specifically Aaron over. This was killing me.

The pair parted before they lowered to the ground on either side of me. My body instantly turned towards Emily, someone who I was familiar with in an intimate setting. She seemed happy with my action too. I just hoped Aaron wasn't upset. 

"This night's about you, Kitten," Emily whispered as she carefully ran her fingers through my hair. I hummed happily as I leaned closer to her. Our faces were inches apart, and all I wanted to do was kiss her. I wanted to kiss her the way Aaron kissed her moments ago. 

At that moment, I wanted her to do whatever to me. I was so used to it being that way. Some nights I was used for her own gratification. Other nights she would give me what I wanted, but not till she had her way with me. It was about me. But that was why Aaron was here.  

"Please, Em," I whispered as I lifted a hand to her face. She smiled as I cautiously pulled her face closer to mine, our lips connecting. Again, I wasn't used to her gentleness. Although I could tell she wanted to take me right then and there. She was struggling to hold herself back. Part of me wanted her to just go for it. To take me then and there, and to let Aaron watch.

Emily hummed as she opened her mouth and further deepened the kiss. At the moment I couldn't get enough of her. My body wanting to move closer to hers. I was already willing to let her play with me. 

A breath of air got caught in my throat as a hand appeared on my shoulder. I slowly moved away from Emily and looked over my shoulder at Aaron. He was waiting patiently. 

I glanced at Emily, making sure it was okay before I went for him. She smiled softly and nodded. I looked back at Aaron, turning my body more to face him. I leaned into his touch the closer I got to him. 

"You have to use your words, Kitten. Tell Aaron what you want," Emily whispered as she sat behind me on the chair. Her hands slowly ran up and down my back, almost causing me to forget what I was doing. 

"K-kiss me… please," I whispered, trying hard to not sound too nervous. I took a deep breath as I looked up at Aaron. He looked at me before placing his hands on either side of my face. 

The wind was knocked from my lungs the second his lips touched mine. My hands found their way to his tie, pulling him closer to me. His face moved with me, the light stubble he had left the slightest burn across my skin. My hands moved from his tie to his shoulders, just barely pushing off his jacket.

I was so lost in him that I forgot where I was and who was with me. I couldn’t stop the soft moan that came from me, but Aaron seemed pleasantly surprised with my reaction. A smile grew on his lips as he kept them against mine. 

Then my world came to a screeching halt when Emily pulled my hair back so I was away from Aaron, and instead looking up at her. My eyes were wide as we stared at each other for a long time before either of us said anything. 

"Why don't you go get ready in our bedroom for Aaron and I? We'll be in shortly, okay?" She asked as she lowered down to me. The grip she had on my hair loosened slightly. I nodded as I swallowed roughly. I knew before she even opened her mouth that I was to use my words.

"Yes, Ma'am." I nodded before stumbling to my feet. I turned and looked down at the two. The way they both looked at me gave me butterflies. 

I watched as Aaron fixed his jacket, readjusting it so it was back on him. Two shades of lipstick were smeared on and around his lips. A light pink blush grew like wildfire across his cheeks.

I stared at the two for a moment longer before dropping my gaze and turning away. My feet quickly moved, bringing me to the bedroom. I tried to be even quicker when I got ready. Redoing my makeup, changing into something more… appealing. I wanted this moment to be perfect. Thank god I had showered when I got home. 

When I was good, and sure, that I was ready, I sat on the dead center of the bed. My fingers anxiously pulling at the bedding beneath me. I wondered what they were talking about. Emily was probably setting down the ground rules of what would happen in the bedroom and with me. This is the first time we’ve ever done something like this. I just hope she would give a little leeway for both Aaron and I. Surely she would…

I jumped slightly and looked towards the door when it clicked open. Emily was the first to step in, coming right up to the bed. She very slowly undressed, keeping her eyes on mine while doing so. I smiled as my eyes trailed down her body. Even with her imperfections, she was still perfect to me. I didn’t even see the old scars she got from Ian Doyle, I just saw her.

I swallowed roughly, watching her crawl on the bed. She placed her hand on my shoulder, pushing me back so I was lying down. Her body hovered over mine, her arms on either side of my body. I just knew Aaron was standing behind her, watching the scene unfold.

“Now, I know I said tonight was about you, Kitten… But you still have to be my good girl and follow our rules,” her voice was low, and she had a sly smile on her lips, “Are you going to be a good girl for Aaron and I?” she asked, keeping her voice low as she looked at me. I stared up at her, suddenly feeling dizzy as she rested her hand on my face. I nodded slightly as she moved down my body. She halted her movement as she got right to the waistband of my underwear.

“You have to use your words, Kitten, you know that.” She smiled as she tilted her head to the side. I swallowed roughly as she snapped my waistband against my skin. I almost couldn’t breath as she finally slipped her hand in my panties. “Are you going to be a good girl,” she asked again as she dragged a finger up my folds.  

“Y-yeah. Y-y-yes,” my voice was shaky as I spoke. 

“Yes what?” Emily asked as she moved her finger around my clit. I took a deep shaky breath and nodded.

“Yes, I can be a good… A good girl for you… an-and Aaron,” I whimpered. Emily smiled again before pressing her lips to mine. Her movements between my legs moved faster as time went on.

“That’s my good girl. Aaron already knows our safe word, and knows the rules… If you’re extra good, maybe Aaron will come back.” She pressed her lips to mine when she was done talking.

A moan fell from my mouth and into hers as she slipped two fingers into my entrance. She smiled before pressing her lips down my neck and chest. 

“Aaron, are you undressed yet?” Emily spoke against my skin. My lungs constricted and felt like they were on fire the longer she touched me. Her free hand lightly touched across my chest, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

“Emily,” I whimpered, my hands instantly gripping the bedding beside me. I could feel my chest tighten the deeper the breath I took. It was so hard not to make any whimpers or cries as she continued her ministrations.

The bed dipped beside me, causing me to open my eyes and look in that direction. Aaron was sitting beside me, sitting in just his boxers. He looked down at me, a soft smile on his lips. 

“Hi there, Princess,” he whispered as he brought a hand to rest gently on my face. I bit my lips hard as I stared at him.

“Oh, so now you’re his Princess,” Emily spoke before Aaron could say anything else. I looked up at her with a mild fear in my eyes. She smiled before quickening her movements. “You know what you are, Kitten,” her voice was low, a hiss. 

“N-n-” I was briefly cut off by a soft moan, my eyes fluttering shut and lips falling open slightly. The familiar tightness of the foreseeable end grew in my stomach. As the seconds ticked by, it got harder to be quiet.

“You’re a slut. A dirty, rotten, little slut,��� she spoke her words harshly. I gasped as I looked up at her. 

“No, no you’re not.” It was Aaron’s turn to talk, causing me to look up at him. His eyes were still on me, and his hand slowly moved back down my body. His hand was back where it was earlier, under my bra and over my breast. “No, you’re perfect, Princess. And you’re doing so good. I bet you feel so good right now,” he whispered as he lowered closer to my face. His face was inches from mine. I could feel his breath fan out across my skin. I just wanted his lips against mine, it was right there.

“I wouldn’t believe anything he says, Princess,” Emily mocked and scowled when Aaron and I were moments away from kissing. I swallowed roughly before moaning. “He’s just saying that because he can’t feel how wet you are. Soaked even.” She looked over at Aaron with a smirk. He looked away from me and up at Emily. I watched as he clenched his jaw as he stared at her. 

“Em… Em, I’m so close… S’close...” I slurred as I clenched my muscles around her fingers. She looked back down at me with a smug smirk before she pulled her hand from between my legs. “Emily!” I whined feeling the tightness in my stomach slowly melt away.

“Not yet, Princess,” she mockingly whispered before lowering down to my lips, “Not yet,” she murmured against me before sitting up away from me. I looked at her with annoyance on my face. She looked over at Aaron with a smug smile before nodding at me. 

“This is… This is torture!” I shouted as I propped myself up on my elbows. She moved from between my legs so she was straddling over my stomach. Her eyes were still on Aaron, I wished so desperately that she would look at me. She firmly pressed her hand to the center of my chest. Her other hand was lightly against my face. My heart picked up it’s pace as I stared at her, it was so hard to breathe with how she looked at me.

“You spoiled, little, brat,” Emily hissed as she squished my cheeks together. I wrinkled my nose as I stared at her. I could feel my chest lift with each breath as I stared at her. The smirk she wore on her lips made me dizzy. 

“Just think about how much I’ll spoil you,” Aaron then cut in, forcing me to look over at him. Emily’s hand was still holding my face as I struggled to look over at him. “Because that’s all I want to do,” he cooed before lifting his hand to Emily’s. He glanced at Emily before gently pulling her hand off my face. “I’ll spoil you so much. You won’t even know what to do with yourself, Princess,” he whispered as he looked back down at me. He kept his eyes on me as he carefully brought a hand down my stomach to my underwear. 

“Aaron,” Emily warned as she looked over at him. 

“Do it,” I whispered as I stared at him. He looked between me and Emily for a moment before slipping his hand into my underwear. If Emily really didn’t want him to do this, she would have stopped him before he even touched my stomach. 

I gasped lightly once his hand met my center. My back arched the slightest bit as his finger started to slowly move against me. My head fell back against the pillow as I looked up at him. 

My hand went up to his head, my fingers getting lost in his hair, as I pulled him down to me. Our lips connected, and it was harsher than before. I wondered what Emily thought while she watched her superior kiss and finger her girlfriend. 

I just assumed she was annoyed that someone other than her was making me feel this way. That was until I heard her soft moans come from above me. I don’t think I’ve moved away from someone so fast. I moved away from Aaron to see Emily looking down at me, with her hand down the front of her panties. I took a deep breath as I stared at her. Great, now I was the jealous one. 

“Mhm mmm, nope. You get Aaron.” Emily smiled at me as she watched my facial expression change. 

“Please, please,” I half whined-half moaned. My head fell back against the pillow, and my mouth opened a little bit. It was so hard to stay quiet the closer I got to finishing. 

Aaron’s hand appeared back on my face as he guided me to look at him. That was when Emily rolled off my body and laid beside me on the bed.

“You’re doing such a good job, Princess,” Aaron whispered as he pressed his lips to the side of my head. I took a shaky breath as he looked back at me before pressing his lips to mine. He seemed to eat up the moan that came from me.

“A little too nosy for me, Princess,” Emily mocked, causing me to look over at her. I could tell she was getting closer, and would probably finish before me, because that’s always what happened. It was one of our rules. “Fuck,” she moaned as she dropped her head back. I took a deep breath as I looked up at Aaron.

“Please, Aaron,” I stared at him as I bit hard on my lower lip. He looked over at Emily, looking to see if it was alright. I struggled to stay still the louder she was beside me. “No, no it’s up to-fuck… you… Please.” I could feel my hands grip the sheets hard. I wondered if I wasn’t holding the bedding if my palms would have bleed. 

“It’s okay. You can do it. Cum for me, Princess,” Aaron whispered as he pushed my hair away from my face. I stared at him, watching him nod to reassure me. His hand fell from my face and landed on my breast. I cried out as my body shook.

Emily’s hands were back on me when she finished. Her hands moved quickly over my body as she pressed her lips to the side of my face and down my neck. My mind was going fuzzy the longer they both touched me.

“Mm, Daddy,” I moaned as my back arched slightly. I looked up at Emily. She looked back at me with a smile before pressing her lips to mine, making me feel really good. The overall feeling was caused because of the two people near me. But also because I was so close to finishing. 

“You like that,” Aaron asked, his voice low as he spoke. His lips were still pressed against my neck while his hands still worked between my legs. I looked at Emily, and she looked back at me with an amused smirk on her lips. I really didn’t have the heart to tell him.

“I… I was talking to… to Emily,” I whispered as I looked over at him. He moved away from my neck. Emily looked around me, causing me to look back at her. Her amused smile grew smug as she looked at him. Aaron slowed his movements, forcing me to look over at him. Emily went back to letting her hands roam my body. I could feel her move one hand towards Aaron’s, helping him back to the pace he was at before.

 “But… But I can call you daddy too if you want,” I whimpered as I stared at him. Aaron laughed and shook his head.

“That’s okay, Princess,” he whispered before returning his lips back to mine. A lengthy moan came from me as I finally reached my high. Emily kept her hand, and Aaron’s, between my legs for a moment as they helped me come down from my high. 

“Hips up, Kitten,” Emily whispered as she moved back between my legs. I looked up at her before carefully lifting my hips off the bed. She smiled at me before hooking her fingers on my underwear and pulled them off my hips and legs. “Good girl,” she cooed as she tossed my panties towards Aaron. I glanced over at him watching as he held my underwear in one hand. 

“Kitten,” Emily spoke again, causing me to look at her. She smiled before leaning closer to me. Her lips were close to mine, and I wanted so badly to just kiss her. “You’re gonna stroke Aaron’s cock while I eat you out, you understand,” she mused while her hand cupped my face. I huffed a deep breath and nodded, possibly a little too excitedly.

“Yes, ma’am. I understand,” I whispered before going to kiss her. She moved away from me before I could connect our lips. The smile she wore on her lips drove me crazy. I just wanted her. 

“Is that alright with you, Aaron,” Emily asked, her fingers running up and down my inner thigh. My legs tensed up and I could feel goosebumps across my skin. 

Aaron sat up more beside me, looking at Emily with a smirk before looking down at me. I stared up and between the two of them, waiting for the next activity of the night to happen. 

“I think it’s more than alright, Emily.” Aaron smiled down at me as he carefully touched my face. My breathing stuttered in my chest as he cupped my chin. His thumb brushed my lower lip, pulling it down to my chin slightly. My mouth fell open slightly and my tongue stuck out. Aaron smiled before carefully pressing his thumb in the center on my mouth. My lips closed around it. I moved my tongue around his thumb and kept my eyes on his. 

And then my eyes snapped shut and a soft moan got caught in my throat. Emily’s mouth attached to my pussy. Her tongue lapping at the previous mess her and Aaron had caused moments ago. It was so hard to even focus on one thing, that I had forgotten what she wanted for Aaron.

I opened my eyes and looked back at him. A small smile grew across his lips before he kissed mine. A deep breath escaped my nostrils and my eyes lightly closed. I carefully, and slowly, moved my hand across his stomach, and towards his boxers. My hand slipped under his waistband and my fingers wrapped around his cock. 

“Shit,” Aaron breathed against my lips. I struggled to smile as I carefully moved my hand up and down his length. My other hand went up to his head, gently pulling his hair. This time it was Aaron’s turn to try and be quiet. But thank God he was struggling. All the sounds he made were… Heavenly.

 He was so painfully hard. I felt bad it took so long for him to be touched like this. But it was worth it. Emily must have loved all the desperate sounds that were coming from Aaron and me. 

I tried to keep my pace quick, but it was so hard the closer I got. I could feel his face falter against mine the lazier my movements went. It was so hard to keep my attention on anything as Emily got more enthusiastic with her actions. I, really, honestly didn’t care that I was getting lazy with Aaron. And I don’t think he did either.

A small whimper came from me, and my hand stopped moving. My free hand moved from Aaron’s head and down towards the back of Emily’s. My fingers got tangled in her hair. It was even worse, or better, when Emily hummed and sent vibrations through my body. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I cried out against his lips. I bit hard on my lower lip as the hand around Aaron’s cock slowed to a stop, and came. It was hard to stay quiet, not that either of them would care. Frankly, I think they rather enjoyed it, especially Aaron. 

“Emily, Emily, please,” I cried when she didn’t let up and move away from me. My body squirming away from her, but failing when she placed an arm over my hips to keep me in place. Aaron kept busy by kissing my face and down my chest.  

All I could do was breathe, or try to breathe. I thought everything was too much before. But this… This was too much. Once Aaron started nipping at my skin, I couldn’t even breathe. My eyes just stayed glued shut, while my body squirmed. 

“Emily,” I whined, trying to lift her arm off me. She hummed, again, instead of moving away from me. It was driving me crazy! I couldn’t even do anything other than just be there, and well, enjoy myself. I don’t know why I was complaining. I was basically in heaven. Two people I… I loved were here… Worshiping me, and loving on me, and making me feel really fucking good. And I was starting to complain. It was just starting to become too much. They were good complaints… even though that’s an oxymoron.

“Come on, Princess. You’re doing such a good job.” Aaron whispered as he gently moved his hands around my body. My body shook slightly and my vision blurred white, and I finished again for the third time.

Emily came up from my legs and looked down at me. I stared at her as my body fell limp against the bed and close to Aaron. She smiled for a moment before pressing her lips to mine. I hummed and couldn’t stop myself from smiling.

“I’ll be right back. Aaron,” Emily started as she looked between Aaron and I. She looked right at Aaron before leaning closer to him. “Go easy on her,” she whispered before pressing her lips to his. She climbed off the bed and grabbed her robe, slipping it on before leaving the room. I looked up at Aaron just as he looked down at me. 

“W-what is she doing?” I stared at him as he moved so he was over me. My legs fell open to accommodate the space of him. But he didn’t yet answer my question. Which I was happy for because I got otherwise distracted.

My eyes trailed up and down his body, getting distracted as they landed on long bumps across his abdomen. I couldn’t help but lift my hand to trace my fingers over the old, healed wounds. They were jagged and ridgedy, like the person who put them there intended to kill him.

I almost asked what the scars were from. But then I remembered what had happened. I tried to not to feel bad, but it was hard. I did the same thing to Emily the first time we had sex. They’re things I don’t think about very often…  

Aaron rested his hand over mine, forcing me to look up at him. He had a soft, yet sad, smile on his lips. He pressed his hand against mine, pressing both of them to his stomach. His semi-toned stomach was warm against the palm of my hand. 

“Sorry,” I looked up at him, my eyes scanning across his face. Aaron furrowed his eyebrows before shaking his head. He was careful as he lowered his face back to mine, his lips reconnecting to me. It was so weird to me how soft and gentle he was with his kiss. 

“Don’t be sorry,” Aaron whispered as he kept his hand on mine. I looked up at him, enjoying the way he looked back at me. There was a certain appreciation in his eyes that made me happy.

"Where'd Emily go?" I whispered as I kept my eyes on him. He stayed quiet as he looked at me, his silence giving me a clue as to what could happen. In fact, it was telling me what was going to happen. “She’s okay with it?” My voice softened as I spoke. 

“She knows. We talked about it. We don’t have to do-”

“No, no I know. I mean, Aaron we made it this far. I want this.” I swallowed roughly after I spoke. Aaron smiled softly before removing his hand from mine and brought it to my face. I smiled as he lowered to my face. 

For a brief moment, he moved away from me to take his boxers off. Thank God I wasn’t dead tired yet because this is the best night of my entire life and I didn’t want it to end now. Maybe after he fucked me.

Once he was back on the bed, his lips reconnected with mine. My arms wrapped around his neck, and my hands rested on his back shoulder muscles. Aaron’s arms wrapped around my lower body, holding me up to his body. 

“Ready,” his voice was low and gruff as he spoke. I swallowed roughly and nodded. My face was pressed into the nape of his neck. I took a deep breath when the head of his cock pressed against the entrance of my sex. 

“Oh,” I whined as he slowly moved so our hips were together. My lungs tightened as he quickly, and gently, bottomed out. We both stayed still for a moment, adjusting to each other.

I carefully wrapped my legs around his waist, and held him against my body. Aaron carefully moved his hips, making me squirm beneath him. His lips stayed on my face, moving along my jaw, over my cheeks, before moving around my neck. I swallowed back the moan as my nails dragged down his back. 

Aaron’s pace was slow and steady. He wasn’t painfully slow, because he knew I’d get overstimulated, and I knew he didn’t have very long. 

“Please, please,” I cried, my voice whiny as my body tensed. Aaron moved his head away from my neck and looked down at me. Even though his eyes were blown and fueled by lust, there was the sweetest look in them. 

“What do you want, Princess? Tell me what you want.” He whispered as he brought a hand to cup my face. My chest heaved with each breath I took. And I jerked my hips to meet his.

“Kiss me,” I whimpered as I stared back at him. Aaron smiled before pressing his lips back to mine. I hummed as I moved a hand to the back of his head. 

My whole body tensed just as Aaron’s pace grew sloppy. I knew he was getting close. The room filled with our noises and the sounds of skin hitting skin. Through groans and grunts, Aaron whispered soft things to me. 

“You’re doing so… So good, Princess.” He moaned into my ear. I whimpered and nodded slightly.  

I couldn’t stop myself from crying out as a familiar feeling grew in my stomach. I wasn’t exactly sure if the familiar feeling was my own oragasm, or Aaron’s. But it felt really good. Aaron’s head dropped to the bed beneath me as he groaned. 

I finally took a deep breath for the first time tonight. It was such a deep breath of air that my lungs felt like they were on fire. Although my head was mildly dizzy, it felt equally as clear. 

Aaron nearly had to pry my body off his to kneel away from me. I almost didn’t let him. Even though he was literally in me, I still needed someone’s touch on my body.

He fell to the bed beside me. He readjusted so a blanket was over us. I let out a deep sigh as his arms were back around me, pulling me closer to his body. We both turned to face each other, and he pressed his forehead to mine. I really appreciated that he just knew that I wanted to be held and close to another person. I hated that I was so clingy after sex… It’s Emily’s fault, honestly.

“Did you have a good time,” Aaron asked as he kept his voice low. His lips still centimeters away from mine. Our foreheads remained pressed together. And I swear I could just stay in his arms for an eternity. Emily would kill me though if she knew that.

“Yeah, that was a lot of fun. Thank you, Aaron.” I slightly opened my eyes and looked at him. He breathed out a laugh and nodded.

“You’re welcome, Princess.” Aaron smiled before pressing his lips to mine. It didn’t feel like a long time that we were like that, but our moment was cut short by the clearing of someone’s throat.

I peeled away from Aaron first and looked over my shoulder to see Emily. She stood on her side of the bed, looking down at Aaron and I. She had three bottles of water and a couple granola bars in her hands. The way she looked down at us with a joyful look in her eyes. How long had she been standing there watching us?

“Wow, didn’t know you’d replace me that quick.” She smiled at us as she placed the water and snacks on her nightstand. I furrowed my eyebrows as I moved away from Aaron. 

“You were the one who left me,” I scoffed as she sat beside me. Emily smiled before pressing her lips gently to mine. “Thank you,” I whispered against her lips. 

“Anything for you, Kitten,” she smiled before pressing her lips to mine again, “Now, drink up. You did a lot of strenuous activity. I don’t want you getting any cramps. You too, Aaron,” Emily grabbed two bottles of water and handed them over to Aaron and me. I grumbled quietly as I cracked the lid off my bottle. 

“What was that, Kitten?” Emily watched as I sipped my water.

“Mmm, nothing. Thank you for the water, Emily.” I smiled as I held up the water bottle. Emily smirked at me and shook his head.

“That’s what I thought. Now, hurry up. I want to cuddle,” she sighed deeply as she looked between me and Aaron. I looked over at Aaron with a raised eyebrow.

“Jeez, didn’t know you could be so needy,” Aaron spoke into his water bottle. I tried not to sputter my water, but failed miserably. 

“I swear to God, you two are children,” Emily scoffed and shook her head. I looked back at her with a smile.

“Yeah, but you love us… Well me anyway.” I went up to her to kiss her. She glared at me as she took my water bottle. I smiled as I shimmied down the bed, pulling the blanket over my body. Emily looked down at me before moving closer to me to cuddle.

My body instantly clung to Emily's. Her arms were wrapped around my body, holding me as close as she could. Aaron was quick to put his bottle down and wrap his arms around me. I could tell it would be a fight to the death for cuddles. I couldn’t stop the smug smile that grew across my lips.

"Can we do this more often?" I murmured into Emily's skin. She laughed and nodded. 

"Of course we can. But I think that's a question for Aaron, Kitten," Emily spoke softly as her hand brushed down the back of my head. I hummed, not really wanting to turn to ask him. I could feel Aaron breathe out a laugh as he wrapped an arm around my waist. 

I looked up at him, the smugness in my smile turning shy. Aaron looked down at me, his smile warm and friendly. I sighed deeply as I stared at him.

“Yes, Princess,” Aaron spoke as he lifted a hand to rest gently on my face. I wasn’t sure if he was answering my question or asking me. So I just stayed quiet. “We can do this as often as you’d like.”

if you want to be a part of a taglst or have any comments about this one shot, let me know here

[ssa-emilyhotchner]

5x03 ~ 

First of all, Emma → Emily 🙄Please, it couldn't be more obvious.

When Rossi mentioned that after meeting Emma, he knew she was the one; I got major WSNE vibes @jetaime-jespere​ ✨It bears a resemblance to Hotch and Emily when they met years before, while she was still in college and he was working for her mother.

Then, he started talking about destiny, soulmates, the what-ifs. And at that moment, I just knew this scene had to be about Hotchniss. It would make sense with what I wrote in some earlier posts. How in the last seasons of CM, Emily spent half of her time talking about those same things: soulmates, parallel universes, reconciling with the past, etc.

For this scene, they created a lot of emphasis on the what-ifs. Rossi talked about two souls destined to wonder what might have been. Does that sound familiar?

Hotch & Emily were doomed to wake up every single day and think about all those endless possibilities the results of their actions might have had on their relationship. If Emily had confided in Hotch, would they have caught Doyle in time? If she hadn't left for London, would she had resumed her relationship with Hotch at some point? If Hotch had returned to the BAU after the Peter Lewis incident, would Emily had stayed? 

Would they now be living the life they both wanted? Together? Away from all those what-ifs? My answer to all of these questions is yes.

It's clear what Rossi's implying here. He's telling Hotch to step up his game. 

It's no coincidence that in most of the previous episode, Rossi was in the field with the two of them. He saw twice how Hotch yelled at Emily. With everything that was going on with Foyet, Hotch was pushing her away instead of confiding in her. Which would explain why in 5x01, when Emily asked him if he wanted to talk about what had happened, he lied and told her he didn't remember anything after the first stab. 

Also, it's really subtle, but in that second b&w gif, when Rossi steps closer to them, he lifts his eyebrows and stares at Hotch as if not believing what his eyes were seeing. That crappy way in which he was treating Emily, after everything she was doing for him.

Rossi knew that Haley was a goner. She wasn't going to change her mind about their relationship. Not while Hotch remained at the BAU. So he was trying to nudge him in the right direction. Towards a future, he knew Hotch deserved. With someone that would understand him and his work. 

And it makes even more sense after watching 4x17. When Emily confided in Rossi with something so personal that I'm sure she never even told her closest friends. Rossi now knew her story, her background and felt confident that she was the perfect match for Hotch. 

I'm not afraid to admit that I replayed this scene more than ten times, trying to figure out what my fellow Hotchniss nerds were talking about. And finally, I saw it. There's a moment when Hotch's eyes move slightly to his right as if he was unconsciously looking for someone.  

And who was on that other end of the jet, just in his line of sight? He certainly could've been looking at Emily 🤭

[jenniferxprentiss]

I Knew You’d Linger Like A Tattoo Kiss -> 3/6

you’re my golden hour (the color of my sky)

read it as a stand-alone oneshot here

The third time JJ kisses Alex in front of the team, they’re enjoying a rare day off at the carnival. JJ can’t keep her eyes off of Alex all day, and as the sun begins to set behind the clouds, casting them in a pink glow, JJ can’t resist insisting they go on the Ferris wheel just once. They’re quiet as they ride, JJ’s head leaned on Alex’s shoulder until they reach the top of the ride, both looking at the flashing lights below them as the sun disappears, giving way to a vibrant pink. In that moment, regardless of who was watching, JJ couldn’t help herself, leaned up and pressed her lips against Alex’s as the ride began to slowly descend.

or the alternative summary.....

Emily was arguing with Reid and Garcia about who got to go on first, Alex and JJ both laughing out loud at the way she was waving her arms around and trying to prove her point. In her defense, she had been dead and exiled to Paris after the trauma of Doyle — and in Spencer’s, she had left him behind and didn’t even say goodbye. “Hey, I thought we agreed to not bring that up again.” JJ’s tone was firm, eyes narrowing at Emily in particular who mumbled out an embarrassed apology. “How about you rock paper scissors for it?” “I like the way you think.” JJ stretched up on her toes, placed a soft kiss to Alex’s cheek before turning her attention back to Spencer and Emily, who were engaged in another bickering war.

hi hello lovelies!

the decision to post this as both a standalone AND the next chap of the 5+1 was a little tough, so I’m hoping you aren’t TOO mad at me for it! i just thought that 1) it would get more exposure tagged as hotchniss, light implied morcied and 2) this is entirely too long (3.2k words!) to be JUST a chapter. and it’s also lightly focused on the rest of the BAU too!! if u don’t like Alex x JJ, I don’t suggest u read, though! but whatever floats ur boat. love u!!

tag list xo lemme know if u want a future tag! @babyblockcolorcat @whiskey-fluent @anepiphany @criminalmindsgonewrong @ellegreenawy @alex-blakes @j3mily @jjsgirlfriend @blakes-dictionxry

——————

It was rare that the team was allowed any time off aside from weekends when they were in town, let alone a weekday to do something as simple as going to a carnival. Strauss had pulled some strings for Emily’s return to the BAU, classified it as team bonding when she informed them of their time off and told them not to stay up too late, they had work to do the next day.

They hadn’t considered a carnival until Emily and Alex had admitted to the team that they had never been to one — sitting around the conference table with the rest of the team staring at them in various states of confusion because really, who had never been to a carnival? Garcia immediately decided that there would be no other acceptable team bonding activity, and luckily for them they were right on time for the last day of the carnival.

JJ had always loved fall carnivals, loved the way the crisp autumn air blew the fallen orange leaves around her feet as she walked, the way it felt and sounded like magic as every footfall brought the crunching of leaves underfoot. She felt a goofy grin pull at the corners of her lips, her hand firmly in Alex’s as they walked leisurely along the pavement, watching Henry as he walked ahead of them.

There was a giddy happiness that coursed through her at getting to take Alex to her first carnival, JJ still smiling at the memory of watching her eyes light up as they drove into the parking lot. They were older, with children and previous marriages — a slow-moving divorce, in Alex’s case — and they didn’t have much room for firsts, and JJ knew this would be a memory they both held dear to them for years to come.

“He looks like he’s having fun.”

JJ could hear the subtle smile in Alex’s voice, breaking her from her thoughts. She squeezed her hand before looking up and watching Henry race Emily off to a ring toss game. He had missed his Aunt Em so much, the sight of him running off with her to go play brought the familiar lump of tears to the back of her throat.

“I knew he would. He missed her so much… I’m glad he can have today before we go back to normal life.” She laughed when Emily ruffled Jack and Henry’s hair, looked over at Alex pointedly. “And you? Are you having fun?”

“As long as I’m with you.”

Her answer was sincere, her tone even and measured but she knew that JJ would understand the true vulnerability behind it. She so rarely let her guard down around other people, especially after her separation from James, but somehow JJ was always able to pull her from the hidden recesses of her mind and get her laughing.

They continued walking in silence, JJ motioning to Hotch that she was veering off towards a stand, nodding when he signaled that he had eyes on Henry. She tugged Alex towards the cotton candy stand, felt her heart flutter when she noticed the soft grin on her girlfriend’s face out of the corner of her eye.

“I’m gonna go grab a bench for us.” Alex’s voice was soft, chilled fingertips grazing the palm of JJ’s hand. “Make sure you get the pink.”

Their relationship had never been built on grand gestures, rather small acts of kindness and words of affirmation uttered behind closed doors — the gentle whisper of words uttered against lips, the way Alex glanced at JJ in front of the team with eyes so full of love that they held a message. She didn’t need Alex to say anything at all — knew her better than the back of her own hand.

She shuffled up in line, eyes still trained on Alex as she sat on a bench, one leg folded over the other and hands in her lap. The sight melted JJ’s heart, the way Alex’s cream colored sweater contrasted her dark hair that hung over her shoulder in a loose ponytail, tied with a ribbon. She was so preoccupied watching Alex that she didn’t notice the man behind the counter clear his throat, calling her up to the stall.

“Oh, I’m sorry… let me get two of the pink and blue over there.”

He grunted, took her money before disappearing for a moment, rummaging in a corner JJ couldn’t quite see. She blew a kiss in Alex’s direction, felt her stomach flip with giddy butterflies when Alex mimed catching it, a goofy grin on her face. She turned back at just the right moment, the man thrusting her change and bags of cotton candy into her hand before mumbling a gruff thanks, already yelling for the next customer to come forward.

JJ remembered that Alex told her she loved cotton candy as a child, the way it melted on the tip of her tongue, felt her lips twitching up into a smile at the thought. She remembered the night they stayed up together long before their relationship had shifted to one laced with romantic intonation, both of them curled under a stiff hotel blanket and whispering silly secrets into the dark — both unable to sleep after they found yet another victim, this one hitting a little too close to home. She drank in every little detail of Alex in those nights, the soft side of her she never let show until the lights were turned out.

“What’s up?” Alex’s voice was soft, fingers grazing her forearm gently in a way that broke JJ from her thoughts.

“Nothing… just thinking.”

“Oh, that’s dangerous.” There was a playful lilt to Alex’s voice, lips curling up into a small smile as JJ sat beside her on the bench.

They were content to sit away from the action for a moment, just to watch the people go by. JJ watched Emily and Hotch, smiled to herself when she saw just how happy they were chasing after Jack and Henry. Emily was laughing — unrestrained, the kind of booming laughter JJ missed so much while she had been gone — her head tilted back and eyes sparkling as she reached for Hotch’s hand. He took it, pulled Emily into him and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead before they pulled apart to help the boys with the water gun game they were playing, Emily’s hands on Henry’s smaller ones as she guided him.

With a soft smile on her lips, JJ brought a bite of cotton candy up to Alex’s mouth. Her lips wrapped around JJ’s fingers, corners of her lips twitching up into a smile as her tongue darted out to lave across the skin, collecting any small bits of sugar that were left. They soaked up the bit of silence amidst the chaos, before the kids or the team would come running and pull them away to another ride.

“Tastes good.”

“Yeah? I know how much you like pink.”

She couldn’t help but gaze into Alex’s eyes, the way they crinkled up in the corners as a wide smile spread across her face. Her eyes flicked up to meet JJ’s, sparkling with a hint of bashfulness behind her doe eyed gaze.

“Not just the candy.”

“Hm?”

“You.”

JJ felt her heart speed up at the tone of Alex’s voice, the way it was subtly playful — fingers catching her wrist gently and guiding JJ’s hand to bring another bite of cotton candy to her mouth. It was in these rare moments of calm with her — just sitting with each other and watching the world move around them — that JJ saw a more permanent future with Alex by her side.

In that moment, JJ saw lazy Sunday mornings around the breakfast table with Henry as a teenager, stuffing food into his mouth before running out the door to catch up with whatever friend he was going to hang out with for the day. She could see movie nights curled up on the couch as an older Henry rolled his eyes at the way his mother was laid across Alex’s lap. There were visions of Christmases spent together — building gingerbread houses with Alex, a dollop of dried icing on her cheek as they sang along to Christmas carols — and long walks down the street admiring the autumn leaves.

The sun had begun to disappear behind the clouds, setting rapidly into a pinkish orange glow and giving way to a chilled breeze. She turned, eyes catching Alex’s face in just the right light and felt her heart clench for just a second. She looked at peace — face relaxed and free of the worry lines that were almost permanently etched into her face — eyes trained on JJ’s side profile with a small hint of a smile playing on her lips.

“Hey.” They both startled when Emily approached, her voice soft and eyes kind. “Henry and Jack fell asleep, Rossi has them. A bunch of us were going to hop on the ferris wheel to watch the sunset… you in?”

“Sorry, I was just thinking.” JJ looked over at Alex, the way her eyes twinkled a little extra when Emily mentioned watching the sun set on the ferris wheel. “Yeah, we’ll be right there.”

“Hotch is saving us a place in line. Let’s ditch this shit with Rossi before they’re too far up in line.”

They half jogged over to the ferris wheel, Alex’s hand firmly in JJ’s, delightfully short of breath as a giddy wave of butterflies settled their way into her stomach. She had never been with someone who made her so lovestruck, made her feel like the little emoticon with heart eyes that JJ used so often — she wanted to drink in every second of the feeling, to never forget the fluttery happiness she felt in that moment.

“Nervous?”

“Sort of. I’ve never been on one before.”

“I’ll hold your hand the entire time.”

Alex smiled, a genuine grin directed at JJ, before turning back to look at the ferris wheel again, taller than she imagined one would be in person. The lights were on now, flashing and changing so rapidly that it made her eyes burn but she couldn’t look away. It was intoxicating — not just the wheel and lights, but the carnival itself. The ambient chatter in the background, hundreds of hushed conversations mingling with music and announcers yelling over the crowds brought a soft smile to her face, head quirking to the side as she tried to pick out any definitive sounds in the crowd.

She was pulled forward by JJ, the line moving again as another couple stepped into their seats and the worker started the ride up again. In front of them, Emily was arguing with Reid and Garcia about who got to go on first, Alex and JJ both laughing out loud at the way she was waving her arms around and trying to prove her point. In her defense, she had been dead and exiled to Paris after the trauma of Doyle — and in Spencer’s, she had left him behind and didn’t even say goodbye.

“Hey, I thought we agreed to not bring that up again.” JJ’s tone was firm, eyes narrowing at Emily in particular who mumbled out an embarrassed apology.

“How about you rock paper scissors for it?”

“I like the way you think.”

JJ stretched up on her toes, placed a soft kiss to Alex’s cheek before turning her attention back to Spencer and Emily, who were engaged in another bickering war. She shook her head, squeezing Alex’s hand gently in a sign of love — something they had adopted when they were still trying to keep their relationship a secret in front of the team, a simple gesture to say they loved each other.

By the time the ride operator opened the gate, Emily had declared herself the winner, but stepped aside and ushered Spencer forward with a sheepish smile on her face. The sight made JJ laugh, the way she walked back over to Hotch and let him wrap his arms around her from behind — having had no intention of actually making Spencer wait to get on the ride, not after she watched him buzz with excitement the entire time they had been in line.

He pulled Derek and Penelope through the gate with him, an uncharacteristically giddy smile tugging his lips upward and making the corners of his eyes crease with the sheer force of his unrestrained joy. JJ felt her lips quirk up into a smile of her own at the way both Derek and Penelope protested riding all together, but eventually let Spencer drag them onto the bench, all squeezing together as the ride operator clicked the bar down and started the ride again.

“He really has them wrapped around his finger, doesn’t he?”

JJ let out a small chuckle at Alex’s words, nodded as she watched the trio move up on the ride, all of them laughing and joking together.

“You say that like you wouldn’t move heaven and earth for that man.”

“He reminds me of my son… almost as much as Henry does.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. He had nine good years… and what is it they say about found family?”

They were interrupted once again by the metallic clang of the gate opening, Hotch and Emily sauntering hand in hand over to the ride car. They sat, Hotch’s arm around Emily’s shoulder and her head tucked into the crook of his neck as the ride started up again, and JJ felt herself swell with happiness at the way Hotch’s coat was around Emily, essentially dwarfing her in the material.

“They make a good couple.”

“Oh, yeah. I knew it would happen… especially once she went to Paris and there were no technicalities of the job keeping them from their feelings. He thinks I don’t know he was flying out to see her once a month.”

“He didn’t think Emily would tell you?”

“I think he was too in love with her to care what I thought.”

Alex made a soft sound of understanding, knowing the feeling all too well. When they had gotten together, in the early days of their relationship outside of falling into bed together for ‘stress relief’ on hard cases, she didn’t care if she lost her job — if she had to quit to just be with JJ on the off chance that it would work out — she felt such a strong pull to the other woman. Thankfully, the HR department was more than okay with their relationship — especially so after Emily came back engaged to Hotch — but it had always stuck at the back of her mind, exactly how much JJ meant to her.

“I love you too much to care.”

The words were laced with an intonation that made JJ’s head quirk to the side in question, wondered exactly what Alex meant and knew it wasn’t the place to ask — not with the way her voice was so soft, eyes soft and filled with such a fierce love that it made her head spin. To be loved so much was almost intoxicating, and she gave Alex’s hand another squeeze as the gate opened for them.

They sat perched on the edge of the bench seat, JJ’s head resting comfortably on Alex’s chest as the ride began to move, cranking them up into the night sky. The sky was a brilliant pink now, both of them transfixed by the sight, still entwined in more than a simple clasp of hands, but fingers laced together in a sign of love.

She loves me. She completely, wholly loves me.

JJ caught herself looking upwards for a second, a warm happiness filling her chest as she watched Emily lean into Hotch’s kiss, her hand on his stubbly cheek. It felt like she was watching a private moment, the way she leaned into him with so much love and adoration that it was almost too much to handle.

“Alex?”

“Hm?”

“I love you completely, wholly.”

“And I, you, my darling.” She paused for a moment, looked out at the carnival below them and back to JJ, a twinkle in her eyes. “Thank you… for bringing me here.”

They were paused at the top of the ride now, passengers disembarking their ride car below and giving them just enough time to look out at the view — the pink sky that cast them in the perfect glow, and accompanied with the lights and sounds of the carnival, it almost felt like they were in a movie.

“I’m honored.”

There was a gravely sincerity to JJ’s voice, and Alex knew she didn’t just mean it in regards to the carnival. It was an honor to love her — to share her dinner table with her, to share a bed with her while away on cases or the rare night that they could stay over at the other’s home.

“Jennifer…”

Their breath hitched, JJ leaning forward and letting her free hand cup the back of Alex’s neck, pulling them together and pressing their lips against each other. It was as though time was standing still for them, the shrill laughter of children and the music from the carnival below them fading into nothing but background noise — nothing mattered but the press of their lips, the way one simple action held so much love and tenderness.

When they finally broke apart, both gasping for air, the ride jolted to a start again, their car descending. They could hear the shrill laughter of Spencer and Penelope, no doubt at something Morgan had told them — looked down and noticed Emily and Hotch cuddled against each other, her shoulders shaking in a silent cry as he held her, rubbed his hand in circles on her upper back.

“I wish we could stay here forever.”

“Hm?” JJ looked up again, felt herself melt when she gazed into Alex’s eyes. “Oh, me too. Aside from the chill… I’m starting to regret my wardrobe choice.”

With a soft laugh, one lacking the ‘I told you so’ she so desperately wanted to say, Alex wrapped her arm around JJ’s back, pulling her girlfriend into her and pressing a soft kiss to her hair. She let herself simply be in the moment, let herself be aware of every point of contact between her and JJ — from the way her hand connected with her shoulder right down to their knees bumping against each other — as she watched the carnival lights come closer and closer as they descended, knew that when they stepped off the ride they would be back to the chaos they both secretly loved so much.

“Jayje?”

“Mhmm?”

“I think I’m ready to ask him for a divorce.”

It was a ghost of a whisper uttered into the chilled evening air as their car came to a stop at the loading station — a statement so full of hope and love that it made JJ’s stomach flip. She didn’t dare mention it in front of the rest of the team who was already waiting for them at the exit gate — simply turned to Alex and pressed her lips against hers once more before exiting through the gate and joining the team again, a soft, proud little smile on her lips that she knew she wouldn’t be able to shake for the rest of the night.

[morceid]

@sunflowrly sent me an ask asking for my weird criminal minds opinions and i accidentally posted it b4 i finished answering so this is my weird cm opinions

i used to ship spemily BUT only bc the first cm fanfic i read was ***** ** *** ***** *** and jj is never mentioned in the whole thing for some reason so even though the reader is described as dark haired i took it as implied jeid and replaced jj with emily

kate callahan was a boring character. she’s like if emily’s trauma and jjs mom abilities had a baby. great milf, bad personality.

seaver was good for plot. she was a bad character (mostly due to the writers fault) but good for everyone else’s development. she was jjs first real ‘replacement’ (i dont count jordan todd) and i think it pushed a new dynamic for the team. she was a new brain that allowed for a new way of thinking about their cases.

i feel the same way i do about demily as i do hotchniss and spemily. if it happened in canon, okay cool. totally okay with that ship. not my favorite but still good.

i don’t ship jemily but i think that’s because i don’t like jj all that much. she’s an okay character but i feel like her established relationship with will was just. better? in a sense? i don’t really see jj as gay. or bi. she has ‘i experimented in college’ energy and that’s about it. emily is 10/10 a lesbian though and she just fits so much better with a woman than a man

i definitely don’t like jj bit bc of jeid. nope nope not me (that means yes i don’t like jj bc i don’t like jeid)

[sodone-withlife]

glass is fragile

Criminal Minds Fic Part Two

| PART 1 | PART 2 |

Word Count: 5.4k

Warnings: implied character death

Notes: cross-posted on Ao3. this is the result of a random idea I had because while I love Hotchniss, I love the idea of the two meeting in college and keeping in contact with Hotch being an overprotective brother

fortuna vitrea est; tum cum splendet frangitur  (fortune is glass; just when it gleams brightest it shatters) - Publilius Syrus

“I’ve got five names on the bottom of the list Prentiss gave us,” Morgan said, walking towards the case board. “Luke Renault, Lawrence Riley, Lyla Rafferty, Lyle Rogers, Landon Raines.”

“All with the initials L.R.” Seaver pointed out.

“The CIA uses cryptograms like that to assign non-official cover agents working the same case,” Hotch remarked.

“So do other foreign countries,” Morgan added. “These last five names are covers—spies,” he said, pointing at the document.

“Wait,” Garcia said, taking the document. “No, this isn’t right,” she said, pointing at the page. “Do you see this space? That shouldn’t be here.”

“Could it be a formatting error?” Reid asked.

“No, this is a spreadsheet template,” Garcia answered. “Formatting doesn’t allow for this, there’s a missing name on here.”

“It’s another spy whose cover is L.R.” Hotch said quietly, looking to the elevator and mentally preparing to give the looming long-winded explanation.

“‘Lauren Reynolds is dead,’” Reid said aloud behind him.

“What?” Hotch turned around in shock, having not heard that name spoken aloud in years.

“‘Lauren Reynolds is dead,’” Reid repeated, “Prentiss said that on a phone call seventeen days ago, but her intonation wasn’t surprise or grief, it was like a mantra, like she was reminding herself.”

As Reid continued talking, Hotch pulled out his phone and dialed her number, hoping like hell his hunch about what she's doing is just that—a hunch.

“If Prentiss is the last name on that list, she’s on Doyle’s list, too,” Seaver said.

Hotch followed the sound of a ringtone to Emily’s desk and opened the first drawer. “Guys,” he cut into the team’s discussion, holding the gun and badge she’d left behind out for them to see.

“She left her badge and gun? Why would she do that?” Morgan asked, confused. Hotch placed them back down and grabbed his other phone, pulling up his messages.

<< It’s T, isn’t it.

>>He’s going after us, he’s threatened the others.

<<Blackbird.

<<Where are you?

<<What are you doing?

>>I’m sorry.

“That doesn’t make sense,” Reid turned back to the others, uncomprehending. “Why run? We’re her family, we can help.”

“Doyle’s killing families,” Rossi pointed out in realization. “She’s not married, not close to relatives—”

“Last night, Doyle verbally threatened to kill us,” Hotch said, looking up as his worry for Emily’s safety returned in full force.

“How do you know that?” Morgan asked suspiciously. In response, Hotch held out his phone and played the recording Emily had sent over last night.

“Aaron, Doyle mentioned all of us except you. Why?” Rossi asked, noting the distinct lack of any threat directed at the unit chief. Hotch didn’t answer, looking out through the glass doors towards the elevators. The others followed his line of sight.

“JJ?” Garcia stood up and dashed over to the long-missed blonde, who was standing in the doorway.

“I’ve called the State Department for permission to have someone come over and shed light on Emily’s past. Officially, I can’t tell you anything,” Hotch told the profilers who were staring in shock, “but JJ can.”

~~~

“Okay, so I talked to a friend from Langley, he couldn’t give me Emily’s full CIA history, but he could give me this,” JJ said, turning to the TV screen. “She assumed the identity of Lauren Reynolds as part of a special task force called JTF-12.”

“I heard about them,” Rossi remarked, “They were profiling terrorists, weren’t they?”

“Yeah,” JJ answered. “Assembled after 9/11, CIA and Western agencies contributed their ‘best and brightest’.”

“But serial killers and terrorists have different personality traits,” Seaver pointed out.

“How does Doyle fit in?” Reid asked.

“He was their last case,” JJ said, “and now the JTF is on his hit list.”

“Jeremy Wolff was victim number one, from Germany’s BND,” she began, focusing on the pictures on the screen. “Sean McAlister at Interpol was the second and was the one who brought the JTF in on Doyle. He was murdered last week in Brussels with his wife and daughter,” JJ said softly, flicking a brief look at Hotch, who had squashed down his reaction.

“Tsia Mosely of France’s DCRI—she got engaged to Jeremy earlier this year and fled here when he died,” JJ continued and sent another look at Hotch, who took a breath and steeled himself for the barrage of accusations and questions he was sure to get.

His picture appeared on the screen.

“Hotch?” They turned to look at him in confused shock.

“It wasn’t my prerogative to tell you,” he moved around the table and took the remote from JJ, looking at the other profilers. “None of you had the clearance for this, and there wasn’t time between the numerous phone calls I had to make in order to get JJ back here.”

“I understand you have questions, but we need to focus on Emily,” he said firmly, turning to the screen. “Clyde Easter of the British SIS was the leader. I’ve talked to him over the phone twice and he was in DC last I heard, but I haven’t been able to get a hold of him since Tsia’s murder.”

“You were involved in the Doyle case?” Rossi asked. Are you safe? went unasked but was heard by everyone.

“I’m well aware of the danger I am in,” Hotch said, “but if I’m right, he’s going to be too fixated on Emily to care much about me, though I’ve had precautions in place since we first found out he escaped.”

“Did you ever make any arrests? Maybe that’s why he’s after you?”

“No, the host countries always took care of that and we just moved onto the next case. Given the shadowy nature of terrorist cells, we were mostly involved in infiltration.”

“Who was undercover on Doyle?” Reid asked.

“Emily,” JJ answered.“She posed as another weapons dealer and met him in Boston to get intel on Valhalla.” JJ paused, looking at Hotch apprehensively.

He took over, knowing what she was hung up on. “The recon we did on Doyle included a background on all of his previous romantic relationships, and… ” he trailed off, hesitating, “she’s exactly his type.”

~~~

“Prissy, where the hell are you?”

“Oh, is that worry that I hear, Iceman?”

“Blackbird’s in Boston, isn’t she.”

“Is that a question?”

~~~

“Emily walked into a trap,” Garcia said shakily, pointing at the screen. “It looks like Doyle got into the SUV, but from this angle, you can see that he didn’t, which I wish Boston PD would have told me before I started watching it.” She looked at the others apologetically. “Sorry again for the screaming.”

“She threw a flash-bang grenade into a car,” Morgan said incredulously. “She’s lucky the three people inside didn’t die. Is anybody else bothered by that?”

“Well, three bad guys,” Rossi pointed out.

“Illegal as it is, when you’re dealing with the likes of Doyle, who has nothing to lose,” Hotch said softly, staring into space, “you have to be as ruthless as he is and act the same way.”

“So how did Doyle know she was waiting for him?” Rossi asked.

“Well, the mole must have told him, right?” JJ suggested. “The same guy who’s been feeding Doyle the contractors and agents?”

“And our best suspect was just arrested with a suitcase full of cash,” Seaver said.

“Let me take care of Prissy—Clyde,” Hotch amended when the nickname garnered him strange looks. “The rest of you focus on Doyle’s location.”

“I hate to be the one to ask this,” Garcia hesitantly spoke up, looking to Hotch. “But how long does Emily have?”

He remained silent for a moment. “Doyle saved her for last because she is his stressor—she had an intimate connection with him,” Hotch blew out a breath and focused his gaze on the analyst. “He’ll take his time.”

A horrified silence fell over the group. He stood up, unable to bear the heavy tension and fear, and walked into the jet’s bathroom. He leaned on the counter for support and took a few deep breaths, trying not to spiral into a panic.

“How long have you known Emily?” Rossi asked quietly, having followed behind him.

“Fall of ‘89,” he answered, feeling faint amusement at the older man’s surprise. “Yale; I was an ambitious law school student while she was a goth sophomore student. We saw each other again when I did some work for the Ambassador, then again when JTF was formed. Clyde always referred to me as the overprotective big brother even though she’s a year older than me.”

“Did you know about Emily and…?” Rossi trailed off, unsure as to how he should phrase the question.

“I had my suspicions,” Hotch admitted. “I wasn’t there to see her after she was extracted, but I talked to her afterward, and something was definitely different.”

~~~

“October 2006. ‘In closing, I have never worked with a finer agent than Emily Prentiss. Her skill at analyzing and predicting terrorist behavior is unparalleled.’ Signed, name redacted,” Hotch looked up at the Englishman. “I knew something was off when I read her personnel file those years ago. Buzz words, the like—you sold her to the bureau just like you sold Doyle to the North Koreans.”

Clyde remained silent as Hotch continued to stare at him. “It takes a skilled sociopath to betray his team and the cause he held dear for self-preservation.”

He leaned forward, expression dark. “If anything happens to Emily, I swear I will destroy you, our past history be damned.”

Finally shifting in his spot, Clyde sent an appraising look over Hotch. “You were the best,” he said, “but you’re slipping. I’m disappointed.”

Hotch looked at him dispassionately. “My team and I will get Doyle with or without you. Pack lightly—Guantanamo gets humid.”

He turned away as Clyde chuckled behind him. “Nice try,” the Englishman said, “but I’m curious. If I’m the sociopath, then I should feel no empathy, correct?”

“Oh, you’re not the sociopath,” Hotch corrected him, turning around at the doorway. “Doyle is.”

He carefully looked Clyde up and down. “Weren’t you a better profiler?”

~~~

“Did you know Jeremy sold the list to Doyle?” Hotch asked, sitting across from Clyde.

“I had my suspicions,” Clyde admitted casually.

“So when you got to DC, you couldn’t trust Tsia, either. Emily and I read your doubt as duplicity,” Hotch said, leaning forward. “Emily is in trouble, and you need to help me brief the team on the original profile so we can combine that with who he is now as a serial killer.”

“Aaron, you know that Doyle is going to escape from one of your American prisons as easily as he did in North Korea,” Clyde retorted. “There is no catching that man, you have to put a bullet in his brain yourself.” He looked at Hotch seriously. “You, as an FBI agent, took an oath to protect the laws of your country. Can you break your oath, Agent Hotchner?”

Hotch shook his head, understanding his intent and opting for a different answer.

“I can take one.”

There was a knock on the door, which opened to show JJ. “The British consul’s here,” she told the men.

“Could you tell him I’ll be right out?” Clyde requested, not looking away from Hotch. “I’m consulting with the BAU on a case.”

~~~

The profilers stood around quickly set up table and case boards in the Boston field office, Clyde and Hotch at the head of the table.

“Ian Doyle is a power-assertive psychopath. Highly controlling and very explosive when something doesn’t go as planned,” Clyde informed them.

“Okay, so how does this fit in with who he is as a family annihilator?” Seaver asked.

“And Prentiss’ role in it,” Rossi added.

“Annihilators have a romanticized view of who their family is,” Reid suggested.

“Actually,” Hotch interrupted, “he was an orphan.”

“Well, they think of family as their possession until some law shatters that and starts them killing,” Morgan offered.

“Doyle was never married,” Clyde said.

“Children?” Rossi asked.

“No.”

“You run your profile that he carried out his murders with surgical-like precision,” Reid interjected, holding out a photo of the dead child.

“Yeah.”

“With no collateral damage,” Morgan continued, which Clyde and Hotch confirmed.

Rossi looked up, an idea coming to him. “Perhaps this child was a surrogate for one he had.”

“Say Doyle had a child and you didn’t know about it,” Seaver suggested hypothetically, turning to Clyde. “Is it possible that Prentiss did?”

“Then why would she keep it from me?” Clyde asked as if the idea was inconceivable. Hotch raised an eyebrow and let out a scoff, earning himself a look from the Englishman.

“First name Declan,” Hotch told Garcia, ignoring Clyde. “Adoptive guardian Louise Jones, Doyle’s housekeeper. Emily moved them here to Boston eight years ago and she told me she made sure they’re safe. Anything beyond that, a last name, I don’t know.”

“Declan and his mother went missing seven years ago,” Garcia said, typing rapidly. “Bodies were never found… wait, what’s this?” Multiple pictures popped up on her screen. “God, someone took pictures of them being shot,” she said, horrified.

“Is there an address?” Hotch demanded.

“That looks like a warehouse,” Garcia said as she entered in the specifiers. “It’s gotta be big enough to house a small army. That’s weapons, supplies, let’s see, which means it has its own perimeter…” she trailed off, hitting enter. “1518 Adams Street,” she read from her screen.

“Hold on, look at the photos,” Reid interjected, taking a closer look at the screen.

“It’s black clothing and a hand, Reid,” Morgan said, confused.

“No, look at the fingernails,” he corrected, pointing to the screen.

Garcia let out a gasp as she realized what Reid was talking about. “Oh my god.”

~~~

“Agent Prentiss is the only friendly in the building,” Hotch briefed the listening agents, ballistics vest on. “Rescuing her is our primary objective.”

“Our only advantage here is stealth,” Morgan said. “Once they know we’re on site, there’s nothing to stop them from killing her, so we keep it quiet until we get to her… ”

~~~

“Cut the power.”

~~~

“I got her!”

~~~

“Come on, stay with me!”

~~~

“She never made it off the table.”

~~~

“You really didn’t have to do this.”

“She’s my friend, and so are you. I want to protect her and make sure you don’t fall under this weight.”

~~~

<< Stay safe

>>You too

~~~

“Prissy, where are you hiding out right now?”

“Good to hear from you too, Iceman. The Golden City. oh, and I know she’s alive.”

“Glad to hear your habits haven’t changed a bit.”

~~~

“How are you doing?”

“The others aren’t as mad as I expected.”

“Red tape, writing up report after report for bureaucrat after bureaucrat, they’re more perceptive than you give them credit for. However, I don’t believe I asked about them, I believe I asked after you.”

“I think cleaning up this mess while trying to go about life with an international criminal potentially out for my blood is a fitting punishment for my failings.”

~~~

“I get it. We’re a family, and it’s important that families talk, and holding it in will just make this sick, sad feeling of awfulness more awful,” Garcia said, “right?”

Hotch allowed himself a brief upturn of his lips at her rambling before sobering up. “Internalizing does make it worse,” he agreed.

“I’ll talk, but I don’t want to talk about her being gone,” Garcia said softly. “Can I talk about how she made me smile?”

A pang shot through Hotch’s heart at her hopeful question as he thought back on the close relationship the women had with each other.

“Of course.”

~~~

“The last time I was on a couch like this was when my father left,” Reid mused quietly. “They all thought I needed to talk, but developmentally I wasn’t guided by conscience—I could only reveal what my mother and my teachers told me was acceptable.”

“You told them exactly what they wanted to hear,” Hotch summed up, not showing just how much that hit home. “You don’t have to do that here. Yell, curse at me, whatever you need to do.”

The genius swallowed. “It’s just unfair that she’s gone,” he said, barely holding back tears. “It’s like if we can’t keep each other safe, then why are we even doing any of this?”

Hotch remained silent as Reid continued. “It’s… sometimes I think maybe—maybe Gideon was right, you know. Maybe…” he trailed off, staring into space. “Maybe it’s just not worth it.”

~~~

Morgan sighed, leaning back on the couch. “So I came in here to do what? Talk about losing Emily?” He shook his head when he received no answer. “Strauss put you up to this?”

“The assessment’s routine,” Hotch finally said. “I asked her to let me do it rather than bring in somebody from the outside. Thought it might be preferred, even with my role in this mess.”

“So let me guess—it’s about the five stages of grief,” Morgan let out a breath. “You want to figure out where we all are.”

Hotch looked at him expectantly, remaining silent, much to Morgan’s annoyance.

“All right,” Morgan said, leaning forward and placing his elbows on his knees. “Denial. I’m fine, this can’t be happening to me—well it didn’t happen to me, did it?” he started. “So that rules that out. What else is there—bargaining. Depression. Acceptance. Well, obviously, I haven’t accepted it, otherwise I wouldn’t be in here,” he looked at Hotch. “So where does that leave me?”

“Angry.”

“Angry,” he repeated. “Yeah. Yeah, sometimes I feel like I want to quit my job and spend my time chasing down the son of a bitch who killed Emily. You’re damn right I’m angry,” he declared, anger pouring out of every word before he deflated.

“Sixty seconds,” Morgan breathed out, shaking his head in self-recrimination. “If I had gotten there sixty seconds earlier, Emily might still be with us.”

“Derek, you know that you did everything you could—”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. I did everything I could. We all did. I know,” he snapped. “What, that’s supposed to make me feel better?”

“You protected each other for years, don’t expect this to go away anytime soon,” Hotch told him.

“This what? This—this guilt?”

“Just because you were the last one there doesn’t mean that you could affect the outcome,” Hotch said. “We all wish we had that kind of control.”

“So what do we do, we just chalk it up to fate?” Morgan looked at Hotch incredulously. “What, I can’t blame anybody? What, this is the will of God? No. I do blame somebody, I blame Doyle.”

At a loss, Hotch remained silent, hiding the guilt that threatened to swallow him in the face of Morgan’s grief.

“Hotch, what am I supposed to do?” Morgan finally asked, voice breaking. “I lost my friend right in front of me, and I’m supposed to go on like nothing happened?” He shook his head, taking in a shuddering breath. “You know, we—we come in here, and we talk to you,” he turned to Hotch and asked, “Where do you go?”

Hotch glanced down as Morgan continued, “Where are you with all this?”

“Same place as you,” the unit chief looked back up, a mutual understanding passing between them. “Wishing she was here.”

~~~

“There are benefits to meeting after hours,” Rossi commented, raising his glass of scotch and taking a drink.

Hotch looked down at his own glass. “You know everybody’s feeling it, and nobody wants to talk about it.”

“It’s too soon, Aaron. You know that better than anyone,” the older profiler sent him a look. “And, uh, doesn’t Strauss usually run these assessments?”

“There was no way that was going to happen,” Hotch said firmly to Rossi’s brief chuckle.

“Yeah, I didn’t think so,” he said, as Hotch took a long drink out of his own glass. “And I also know that you grieve privately. But,” Rossi paused, looking at him solemnly, “you’ve been through more than any of us in a very short time. How are you holding up?”

“I’m all right,” Hotch repeated three words that had become a mantra, briefly glancing at Rossi. “I think it’s an ongoing process,” he said, thinking about the mess he was buried under after the events of the past year.

“This is not my assessment,” he looked at Rossi in reproach, “I’m supposed to be asking how you’re doing.”

A corner of Rossi’s lips briefly tilted up before he looked back down as he thought about what to say. “I’ve always had trouble letting people in,” he began slowly and shook his head. “But this is different. I guess I’ve come to realize… I’m more married to this team than I ever was to three ex-wives.” They shared a brief moment of amusement as his quip.

“It’s been a hard year,” Hotch finally said quietly. “We’ll get through it.”

“Yeah, we will,” Rossi agreed, lifting his glass in a toast. “Emily and Haley.”

Hotch raised his own, the two lapsing into heavy silence.

~~~

I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry I’m sorry I’m sorrysorrysorry—

He threw the blanket off himself and got up from where he was laying on the couch to walk over to his desk, glancing out into the dark bullpen as he went. He sat down and started going through the stack of unfinished reports in an attempt to ward off the thoughts that have plagued him since that painful day two months ago.

I’ve failed you, Blackbird.

I hope you’re safe out there.

~~~

“Believe me, everyone who tried to save him that day isn’t going to forget. It’s the day they failed. They’ll ask themselves what they could have done—could they have gotten there sooner? They’ll heal, but it’s going to take time. They’ll move on, but they won’t forget.”

~~~

“Over the next few weeks, each of you is going to be asked if you’d like to stay with the unit,” Hotch informed them.

“Why wouldn’t we?” Reid asked, confused.

“There are other options for you out there,” Hotch answered. “And while I want the unit to stay together, I understand completely if you want to see what the alternatives are. Morgan, there’s renewed interest in you from the New York office.”

Morgan looked surprised. “Nobody’s called me.”

“They will.”

“That doesn’t mean I’m going to go,” he said slowly.

“Oh, I know,” Hotch said evenly.

“Are you staying here?” Seaver asked Hotch.

“It’s my intention to,” but we’ll have to see what happens with Doyle. He felt Rossi’s eyes land on him, knowing that the man would have caught his careful word choice.

Either way, there’s a high chance I’m going to be overseas soon.

~~~

“Has he ever left before us?”

“He technically isn’t leaving—he’s still in danger and doesn’t have the luxury of going into hiding, so he’s been rotating through the Academy dorms.”

“Jack?”

“He’s been staying with the Brooks family. Hotch implemented as many security measures as he could and has been visiting as often as he can.”

~~~

“Hotchner.”

“Hey, it’s me,” Morgan’s voice came over the phone. “How’s it going out there?”

“Got to Pakistan a few days ago, so far long days, some territorial issues to work out, nothing surprising,” Hotch answered, straining to hear Morgan over the helicopters whirring overhead. “How’s everything there?”

“Hotch, we found Declan Doyle.”

“What?”

“Listen, I knew finding the kid was the only way I could find Doyle,” Hotch was silent, mind immediately straying to the potential ramifications. “I know what you’re thinking, man.”

“Is Declan safe?” he finally settled on asking.

“Yeah, he is for now. I’ve had surveillance at his house and his school for a few weeks.”

“Morgan, I didn’t authorize this—”

“I know you didn’t, Hotch, but listen to me. I think Doyle may have found Declan, too.”

Hotch shook his head. “All right, I’m coming back.”

“You want me to wait?” Morgan asked incredulously.

“Morgan, fixated on his son as he may be, Doyle is still incredibly smart and meticulous,” Hotch reminded. “You make sure you have eyes on Doyle from all angles. If you take him alive, keep him under constant surveillance and limit his contact with other people, even if they’re our own.”

~~~

“Prissy, Doyle’s in custody and under constant watch. You can come out of whatever hole you’ve crawled into.”

“Dare I ask how you got to him?”

“I’m still in Pakistan, I didn’t do anything. The team took care of it.”

~~~

<<Time to come back, Blackbird.

>>You got V?

<<Looking for his K.

>>I just got a call from K’s caretaker. What happened?

>>Iceman.

<<K disappeared

~~~

“Welcome back, sir.”

“Thank you,” Hotch turned around to see the brightly-dressed analyst hurrying towards him with a folder under her arm. “What have you got?”

“A top-ten list of Doyle’s enemies.”

“Anybody recently in the States?” he looked through, recognizing the names.

“Richard Gerace’s been here a few weeks,” she answered. “He’s a low-level gun-runner who angrily crossed paths with Doyle. I caught an image of him on the surveillance camera at Declan’s house and confirmed it was him through a scar on his neck. Have you come across him before?” Garcia asked, referring to his time with JTF.

“I don’t think so,” Hotch shook his head. “Get me everything you can on Gerace.”

“Yeah,” Garcia hesitated, “what I just told you is everything I’ve got.” Hotch nodded and briskly walked around her out of the conference room.

He made his way to where they were holding Doyle and walked up to the window next to Rossi.

“Well, that’s a good look,” Rossi commented on his beard. Hotch allowed a brief smile to appear on his face while he texted Morgan, who was inside with Doyle. “How was the desert?”

“Hot,” Hotch replied shortly, still able to feel sand in his combat boots and the sun beating down on his back.

“Doyle’s here, so have you seen Jack yet?”

“No, Jessica took him on a road trip, they’re at Hershey Park right now,” Hotch said, still occupied with his messaging.

“Well, he’ll love that beard,” Rossi looked over at him.

“Yeah, we skyped every day,” Hotch said dryly, looking back at the older man. “He’s not a fan.”

~~~

>>C just called to check in. On the way right now.

<<See you in a bit

>>If I survive the others

<<Blackbird, I made this decision, I am responsible for this. It’s my burden to bear, but I’d do it all over again if it means having you alive.

<<Oh, and J came back fourteen weeks ago. As a profiler, now.

>>What? And you’re just telling me this now?

<<Didn’t find out until I got somewhere with secure service, and that was a week ago.

<<We’ve really missed you.

~~~

“Welcome back,” Morgan greeted Hotch.

“Thanks,” Hotch said, steeling himself. “Everybody, have a seat.”

The profilers looked at him strangely. “Why?” Morgan asked. “What’s going on? Everything all right?”

“Seven months ago, I made a decision that affected this team,” Hotch crossed his arms. “As you all know, Emily had lost a lot of blood after her fight with Doyle, but the doctors were able to stabilize her and she was airlifted from Boston to Bethesda under a covert exfiltration.”

He continued on, watching as different emotions appeared on the teams’ faces as they realized what he was saying. “I called Clyde and we met with the brass while she was being flown over, and it was decided that her identity was strictly need-to-know, and she stayed there until she was well enough to travel. Given the danger Doyle posed, she was reassigned to Paris, where she was given several identities, none of which we had access to for her security.”

“She’s alive?” Garcia asked, hopeful shock clear in her voice. Hotch’s silence spoke volumes.

“But we buried her,” Reid said, uncomprehending.

Hotch looked directly at Morgan. “As I said, I take full responsibility for the decision, and if anyone has any issues, they should be directed towards me.”

“Any issues?” Morgan repeated in angry incredulity. “Yeah, I got issues,” he trailed off when he noticed the others looking behind him.

“Oh my god,” Garcia breathed, tears rolling down her face at the sight of Emily Prentiss in the doorway. She stood up and rushed over, enveloping the woman in a careful hug, as if she were going to disappear.

“I am so sorry,” Emily said, as the analyst let go of her so Reid could take her place. “I really am. Not a day went by that I didn’t want to…” she trailed off, catching sight of Morgan’s expression. “Really, I—” she approached him, hoping he’ll understand, “you didn’t deserve that, and I’m so sorry.”

She leaned in, hugging him tightly as Morgan slowly returned the hug through his shock. They stayed like that for a few moments before she backed away and turned to the others. “There’s so much I want to tell you guys, and I will, I promise, but right now I really need to know what’s going on with Declan,” she said, walking to stand next to Hotch and JJ.

“Emily, was there a man living at the house?” Reid pushed forward to ask.

“Yes, my friend Tom Koehler, he was raising Declan as his own.”

“Where is he?” JJ asked from the side.

“I never saw him go in or out of that house,” Garcia told her.

“He was on assignment overseas,” Emily said.

“But he’s all right?” JJ checked.

“Yes,” Emily confirmed, “He’s on his way back now. He got a call from Declan, he called me, and Hotch texted me just moments later telling me you had Doyle in custody.”

“And because of Tom’s line of work, that’s why you enrolled Declan in a boarding school,” Hotch said.

“I made sure that he, Louise, and I were the only ones allowed to take him off campus.”

“Louise took him home last night because he was sick,” Reid told her.

“Food poisoning,” Hotch interjected.

“Yeah, a few of the kids had it, apparently, so whoever did this got to him on campus. They knew they only had one chance.”

“Current suspect is Richard Gerace,” JJ said, “he’s the most recent arrival into the states. We’ve been tracking his progress through the city, but we came up empty.”

“We know it’s him because he has the scar,” Garcia added.

“That doesn’t make sense, Gerace gave up on Doyle a long time ago,” Emily stated.

Rossi spoke up, “He said you were the only one who knew Gerace.”

“Which is why I’m pretty sure he doesn’t have the balls to pull this off,” she said. “There was no forced entry at the house?”

“I had two agents working security,” Morgan said.

“We think Gerace and his partner pose as the next shift, and one of the agents was a woman,” Reid told her.

Emily’s response came quick. “She’s the alpha.”

“So we’re looking for a woman who’s getting back at Doyle,” JJ summarized.

“Well, our suspect list just got a whole lot longer,” Hotch remarked, exchanging a sardonic look with Emily, who nodded in agreement.

~~~

“Is Strauss still there?” Hotch asked over the phone, striding outside towards the parked SUVs.

“She is.”

“We need full support.”

“Doyle said McDermott’s family imported weapons to a private airfield in Maryland,” Emily said.

“Close?”

“Largo.”

“All right, send me the coordinates. Oh, and Emily?” Hotch added.

“Yeah?”

“It’s good to have you back, Blackbird.”

~~~

“Hotch, are we really going to do this?” Morgan’s voice came over his earpiece.

“No one leaves here,” Hotch said firmly into his mic, keeping a careful eye on the proceedings.

~~~

“Iceman.”

“Blackbird,” Hotch returned as Emily approached him at the side of the conference room, having escaped the others’ excitement at her return. He looked her up and down, taking in the welcome sight before pulling her into a tight hug. The others fell silent, watching them clutch to each other like a lifeline in an embrace that spoke of a deep familiarity.

“You did all that you could,” she told him quietly, as their grip on each other loosened slightly, “thank you.”

A few traitorous tears slipped out of his eyes, which he had squeezed shut. Hotch kept his head at the crook of her neck, taking in the familiar warmth that reassured him of her presence.

“It’s so good to see you.”

[em-prentiss]

passed down like folk songs, our love lasts so long

This work is inspired by the lovely flowersinapril’s beautiful series, the Taylor drabbles!! 

Just a little warning, number 8 contains implied cheating, so if that’s not your thing please skip it!!

----

Unrelated snippets of hotchniss based on every song in folklore

He moves without feeling it. His feet carry him to the end of the hall, his head screaming Emily, Emily, Emily, with each step he takes.

----

1.

I thought I saw you at the bus stop, I didn’t though

Emily makes her way through the mist, one hand holding the phone to her ear and the other adjusting her hood over her head. She shivers at the water droplets that have clung to her hair, wetting her neck.

“He rolled his eyes at me, Em. I swear, he’s turning into you.” 

She laughs, the sound of Aaron’s voice warming her up from the inside out. His words make regret stir in her stomach, that she’s not there to see it for herself. She wishes he were here next to her, his shoulder brushing hers and his body heat warming her up. Emily swallows against the sudden lump in her throat.

The rim of her hood hangs into her eyes and she adjusts it as she approaches a bus stop. Emily gives it a passing glance as she walks by, sweeping the dark out of habit. 

She sees him from afar. A man in a suit holding a phone in one hand, briefcase in the other. She hears a deep voice, a familiar American accent, and Emily’s heart jumps in her throat. It doesn’t matter that he’s too short to be him, his shoulders not quite as broad. Her feet carry her faster to him and she suddenly finds herself in front of the glass divider, heart racing and hand extended to the man who’s definitely not Aaron.

It falls from her lips anyway. “Aaron?”

“Yeah?” His voice is crackly through the phone and she closes her eyes, grateful that she has the rain to blame for the water on her cheeks.

“Nothing.”

2.

But I knew you

Playin’ hide-and-seek and 

Givin’ me your weekends 

July 1999

Aaron sighs when yet another day passes and she’s still gone. He lasts until sunset before climbing into his car and trying all her usual haunts.

He finds it on the third try; the French name of the bar catches his eye, tucked into a quiet corner at the end of the street.

He feels all his frustration fizzle when she looks up at him and smiles, setting down her book on the table when she sees him approaching.

“Do you like having me chase you?” Aaron asks as he sits down and takes a sip of her wine.

Emily shrugs coyly. “Maybe.”

It happens twice more before she admits to loving his attention. Jokingly, of course—they’re still keeping up the facade that this is just a fling. But he knows she means it.

____

“Isn’t it your day off today?” Emily asks as she plays with his hair. 

“Days off,” he mumbles into her bare shoulder. Her fingers in his hair make him drowsy and he’s almost asleep before she speaks up again.

“Wouldn’t you like to go home?”

I like it here, he wants to say. With you. But she scares easily, too easily. 

“There’s nothing worth it back there,” Aaron says.

He hopes she hears what he doesn’t say, and when she links their fingers and soothingly murmurs, “Go to sleep,” he thinks she does.

3.

And the town said, “How did a middle-class divorcee do it?”

She’s dazzling. He sees right through her smile but he knows the others won’t, distracted by her dimple and her big brown eyes, their gazes drifting to her exposed cleavage despite his arm very firmly around her waist.

She sweeps through the room with her mother, charming men older than her father as they leer at her, undeterred by Aaron’s presence when she proudly introduces him as her husband, rings glinting on her slender finger. 

He doesn’t deserve her, he knows he doesn’t. They know he doesn’t, too. He sees the thinly veiled smiles and their widened eyes—he is a profiler after all. But he hears them too as they whisper.

“He’s been married before. What was Emily thinking?”

“I hear he doesn’t even have a trust fund.”

“Widowed, with a son, too. It’s a wonder he even got her to look at him.”

Emily picks up on it. And she hears them, too. She kisses him so fiercely it steals the air from his lungs, makes him gasp as her hands tightly fist his hair. She doesn’t pull away until they’re both breathless.

“Fuck them.” She spits out viciously. Her eyes are heated and furious, but when she cups his face it’s whisper soft.

“Do you hear me, Aaron? Fuck them,” she presses a gentle kiss to his lips. The whispers fade away as he looks at his wife, her eyes now soft as she touches him reverently.

“You’re worth a hundred of all of them,” she holds his cheek, slides her fingers in his hair. Her love shields him, as do her not so subtle glares, no longer polite now that they’re targeting someone that’s not her, someone she loves.

He feels ridiculous for ever believing those words himself.

4.

I can see you standin’, honey 

With his arms around your body 

Laughin’, but the joke’s not funny at all 

His arm is around her shoulders. 

That’s all he can think about. Not that the unsub is dead, not that they saved the lives of a father and his daughter. Aaron’s eyes are drawn to the leather clad arm that covers Emily’s shoulders.

She feels the heat of his gaze on her. Her blood thrums from it, from the adrenaline that still lingers after her brush with death. It makes her cheeks flush, makes her reckless and daring.

Emily looks up and catches his gaze. His eyes are dark, brows pulled tight despite their victory. She picks at the sticker on her beer bottle and leans further into Mick’s side, feeling his heavy arm on her shoulder. Aaron looks away.

He hears her beaming laugh seconds later. His stomach twists and he dumps his beer in the trash, heading for the door before anyone can stop him.

He feels her gaze on him as he walks out.

5.

And you’re cursing my name, wishing I stayed

“Dad, when’s Emily coming back?”

Aaron’s smile grows stiff. He adjusts the blanket around Jack’s ever growing body.

“I don’t know, buddy.”

Jack sighs. “I miss her.” His brows are furrowed as he looks up at his dad.

Aaron swallows against the lump in his throat, briefly closing his eyes and cursing her for leaving. “I do too, Jack. We can talk to her tomorrow, alright?”

His son’s eyes light up as he smiles and nods excitedly. The noose around Aaron’s heart tightens. “Okay. Bedtime now,” he kisses Jack’s forehead. “I love you.”

“Love you too,” he mumbles.

He leaves Jack’s room and pours himself a drink, his son’s innocent question cutting deeper than usual. Aaron closes his eyes as he tips the scotch back, feeling her all around him despite her year long absence.

He feels the phantom press of her head between his shoulder blades, her soft hands around his waist.

When tears blur in his eyes he blames it on the alcohol.

“Damn you, Emily.”

6.

I’ll get you out on the floor

Shimmering beautiful 

She stumbles into the booth and practically on his lap. Aaron steadies her, practiced hands finding the dip of her waist easily.

“Dance with me, baby.” Her hair falls in a dark curtain, covering them both when she kisses him. He’s just enjoying the feel of her lips against his when she pulls back impatiently.

“Come on,” Emily stands and tugs him up, her fingers linking with his and insistently pulling him to the dance floor. 

“Okay, okay,” Aaron chuckles, letting her drag him between the throngs of people. Emily turns to him, her eyes shining, and slots between his arms.

She shimmers, sparkles under the light, and when she catches him staring she giggles, a bright, airy thing he’d never have heard if it weren’t for the alcohol.

Aaron spins her around and brings her into him, hearing her surprised laugh as he wraps an arm around her waist. Emily feels his pounding heart against her back.

His palm is splayed on her stomach, spanning the whole length of her ribcage. Aaron feels her racing heart beneath his fingertips, matching the beat of his.

7.

Sweet tea in the summer

Cross your heart, won’t tell no other 

His arm is warm on her shoulders, heavy and sticking to her hot skin but Emily doesn’t pull away. She’s spent too long aching for his touch, wishing she could have it back so it can shield her from the unforgiving cold in Paris. Now that he’s here, she won’t squander it.

He pours her more of the sweet tea and she smiles at the sight of the delicate porcelain teacup in his large hand. She takes it from him and raises it to his lips, prompting him to try.

Aaron dutifully drinks and hands her the teacup back, barely suppressing a shiver at the sweetness of the tea. 

“What do you think?” She hides her smile in her cup as he stifles a wince, the sugar hurting his teeth. He smiles at her, the corners of it just a little too tight.

“It’s delicious,” he kisses her lightly, trying to distract her. She would’ve believed him if she didn’t know him so well. Emily laughs.

“You’re a scarily good liar,” she murmurs and pushes his hair away from his face, her touch soft. His smile slips at that and hers does too, her words suddenly pulling them out of this dangerous bubble they’re in.

He’s not supposed to be here.

8.

Your back beneath the sun 

Wishing I could write my name on it

She spends hours propped up on her elbows, admiring his strong back and broad shoulders as he speaks softly to her, his words hushed and syrupy in the afterglow. His skin glows, shining golden beneath the warm light of her lamp.

Emily runs the tips of her fingers over the smooth skin. She feels the muscles shift under her touch as he moves, adjusts himself so he can see her.

She presses her lips to the smattering of freckles on his shoulder blades, feels the bone pop out under the skin as he tenses then relaxes. Not for the first time, she wishes she could leave a permanent mark.

She drags her nails over his warm skin, watches as thin white lines appear and turn red. They fade in seconds. 

“No marks,” he tells her, his voice sleepy. Emily nods. “I know.”

She turns off the lamp on her nightstand and he gathers her back into his arms. The room is dark, save for the glint of his gold wedding band on her stomach.

9.

And maybe I don’t quite know what to say 

But I’m here in your doorway

He needs to see her. The sight of her covered in blood and bruises is burned into his brain, and as Aaron closes his eyes and sees it again, his chest tightens painfully.

He moves without feeling it. His feet carry him to the end of the hall, his head screaming Emily, Emily, Emily, with each step he takes.

He knocks, too loudly, his knuckles tapping out the excess energy in his body on her door. He almost falls forward when she opens it, eyes hazy with pain and confusion.

“Hotch?” She rasps out. 

She’s still wearing the shirt. He forces his gaze from the dark spots of blood on it and looks into her eyes.

It’s then he realizes he doesn’t know what to say.

10.

What started in beautiful rooms

Ends with meetings in parking lots

She gasps into his mouth when he kisses her in Dave’s library, her back pressed against the shelves and her lips curving into a smile against his.

“I’ve always wanted to be pressed against a bookshelf like this,” she murmurs when she pulls back, eyes shining and cheeks flushed in the warm light.

“Oh, yeah?” Aaron laughs. Emily nods and he crowds against her, pressing his body firmly against hers until the wood digs into her back again.

____

“It’s not working between us.” Her eyes are cold, flat in the fluorescent light of the Quantico parking lot.

Aaron’s heart stops. He gapes at her in disbelief. “Did I do something?” He moves to close the distance between them, his hand outstretched as if reaching for hers.

Emily steps back. Her stomach lurches at the look on his face but she forces the words out of her mouth; better to rip the bandaid off all at once. “I don’t love you. I never have.”

She turns on her heel and shuts herself in her car. He’s still there when she pulls away, looking after her as she leaves. Emily forces her blurry gaze forward and finally feels hot tears roll down her cheeks.

She wipes them away and focuses on the road. Ian Doyle is lurking in the shadows.

11.

One single thread of gold tied me to you

He meets her for the first time when she’s still in college. They talk a few times, he offers her his jacket when she spills a drink on herself, throws out a jackass who was bothering her.

That’s as far as they get, but he still thinks about her. She thinks of him, too.

It takes him a minute when she enters his office, but she remembers him instantly. Their start is rocky, unlike before, but it only takes a few months before she has him falling.

He asks her on a date, just before Foyet. She agreed with a blush on her cheeks, but the bloodstain on his rug put the thought right out of her head.

They gain their footing after a few months, and he finally kisses her, feels her soft lips against his after years of dreaming about it. But then Doyle takes her away.

She’s not in the right headspace when she comes back. He tries to get her to stay, but she gives him a soft kiss and a sad smile before she leaves.

He accepts it for three months before he hops on a plane to London. He knocks on her door, the rain soaking his hair, and shifts from foot to foot until she opens the door.

“Aaron! Wh-”

“Emily, I love you.” He cuts her off. Her eyes widen and she grips the door. For a moment he’s scared she’ll slam it in his face. 

“I don’t want to let you go again.”

She laughs breathlessly before launching herself in his arms, knocking him backwards. “I love you too.”

12.

And you’ll poke that bear ‘til her claws come out

He stands behind her and presses his lips to her temple, guard dropped now that they were alone in the kitchen. Emily sinks into him and sighs, a yawn escaping her as his hands soothingly rub her hips.

“Tired?” He murmurs. She nods. “I got used to moving, but you’ve got so much shit,” she teases, “you’re a hoar—”

“Moving?” Morgan’s voice comes from behind them. Aaron tenses. “Into a new house, I presume,” he says sarcastically. Emily feels Aaron back away from her.

She turns to face Morgan, the accusatory look on his face sparking a fire in her blood.

“Anything else you want to tell us, Emily?”

She’s held her tongue for too damn long. He’s been throwing comments at them for weeks, and she accepted it for Aaron’s sake, aware that it was still a shock to the team. But she’s done taking his shit.

“Get over yourself.” She snaps. “You’re not entitled to our personal lives, Derek. Do you see any of us having a hissy fit because you keep your private shit private?” She fumes.

He gapes at her, as if surprised she’d had enough. “No.” Emily spits out before he speaks.

She grabs Aaron’s hand and pulls him out of the kitchen, leaving Morgan staring after them.

13.

Watch you breathin’

Watch you breathin’ out 

Out 

He can’t sleep. He used to exhaust himself by running it out, but now he has something better.

Aaron turns on his side and smiles at the sight of his sleeping wife. The sound of her slow, even breaths soothes his soul, and when he looks down, his smile widens.

His shirt has risen over her swollen stomach, exposing a sliver of it to the cool air. Aaron gently tugs the shirt back down and covers her stomach, careful not to disturb her hand that rests on her bump, protecting their baby even in her sleep.

He watches the steady rise and fall of her chest and brings his head closer to hers so he can feel her warm breaths skip across his skin. He doesn’t know how long he stays there like that, watching her. 

She shifts in her sleep, seeking him out. The hand that was on her stomach wraps around him now, keeping him close. Her head falls into the crook of his neck. Aaron sighs at the sweet scent of her shampoo.

She warms him up, her hand slipping under his shirt to rest on his skin. Eventually he grows drowsy, his eyes heavy, and he falls back asleep.

14.

Right now is the last time 

I can dream about what happens when

You see my face again

She’s thought about it a million times. How he’d greet her when she came back—if she came back. Her hope had been hanging by a thread when he called, spoke out the words she’d thought of every day since she left.

She almost lost it at the sound of his voice.

But she forced herself up, grabbed her bag that she’d packed months ago for this, (her bag that she had almost started unpacking), and hopped on a plane to DC.

She chews on her nail now as she sees it for the last time in her head. This is the last time you’ll have to wonder. She imagines him wrapping her up in those strong arms, holding her against his sturdy chest and murmuring, “I missed you, sweetheart.”

Emily sees him pressing kisses to her hair, his warm fingers digging into her hips, and she almost loses it right there on the plane because she can’t bear another second of being away.

She never imagined the beard. It scratches against her forehead when he holds her, and she allows the few tears in her eyes to leak out onto his shirt.

“I missed you, sweetheart.”

She laughs shakily.

15.

Give you the silence that only comes when two people understand each other 

She’s sitting in the lone seat on the jet, head against the cool window.

Aaron heads to the kitchenette and fixes her a mug of tea, stirring in the sweetener she keeps in the drawer.

He walks over to her and presses it into her hands. Emily wraps her cold fingers around it and breathes in its cloud of steam.

He sits down opposite her, a file and pen in his hands. Aaron feels her gaze on him and looks up. Her lips turn up in the slightest smile, her mug held to her lips as she takes a sip.

Thank you.

He smiles back, a full one that showcases his dimples. Aaron looks back down at his file.

Her ankle slots between both of his. Aaron presses his knees against hers. 

I’m here.

16.

Don’t want no other shade of blue 

But you 

No other sadness in the world would do

“I’m sorry,” he chokes out, bending his head as he roughly wipes away the tears from his eyes.

“Shh,” Emily tilts his face up and kisses his forehead. His hands hold on to her waist, fingers digging roughly into her skin. 

“It’s okay, baby.” She whispers, gently brushing his hair away from his forehead. Aaron closes his eyes and feels the hot tears roll down his cheeks.

“It’s okay for you to miss her,” she slips her hand to the back of his neck and pulls him against her. His tears wet her skin. She rubs his back and he shudders, quiet sobs escaping him.

Emily tangles her fingers in his hair, anchoring him to her. “Let it out, honey.”

17.

I don’t belong, and my beloved neither do you 

She looks out of place in this giant empty ballroom, clad in leather from head to toe, pin straight hair and a cigarette dangling precariously between blood red lips.

He does not. With his pristine suit and neatly parted hair, he seems to fit right in. But she knows he doesn’t belong, and neither does she.

“We’re not meant for this place,” she tells him as she looks at the papered walls in distaste.

They’re meant for action, movement and adrenaline pumping, sitting in interrogation rooms with their guns heavy on their hips. 

He’s halfway there already. But it’ll take her longer.

He sees her ten years later in his office, a box on her hip and a glint in her eyes as she dares him to send her away.

“We’re meant for this place.” He says softly. Emily beams at him, cheeks aching. “You and me.”

[hotchley]

Thinking about:

"She's right you know. You never even flinched."

"And I need to know I can be human."

Like what was the reason? Why did they need to show that these two know exactly how to hurt the other, despite not getting along when they met and only being together when he worked for her mother?