#platonic hotchniss

[masterwords]

no two ways about it

Summary: Hotch and Emily are old, grouchy and bitching over drinks while they wait for Derek. (Set in the retirement in Chicago universe.)

Pairing: Hotch/Morgan

Warnings: alcohol consumption, lots of swearing

Words:

Notes: I just wanted to have Hotch and Emily sit and bitch for a while after he's packed up all of his things from his office. And be salty with them, let them be mean to each other for a while with love. This pointless and plotless. Enjoy.

**

“You seriously downplayed the amount of paperwork involved in your job,” Emily groaned, sucking down the last drops of her bourbon. There was time to mix later, she figured, but for now...for starters...it was straight up. It was the first of the afternoon and she was in the mood to get shitfaced. Or...reasonably buzzed, anyway. She did have to get back to work at some point.

Hotch cocked an eyebrow at her assertion.

“In what way?” he asked quietly, just turning his glass between his thumb and forefinger. Around and around. She'd downed one in its entirety, save for what she'd spilled when she knocked into the table with her knee, and he hadn't even set his to his parched lips yet. “I think that my complete lack of a social life should have been a pretty good indicator.”

“Oh please!” She shouted, raising her glass to indicate to anyone who would listen that she was ready for another. And to keep them coming. In London she could just have asked them to leave her the bottle...damn she missed London. “You made it look so easy.”

There were two heavy boxes of books and memorabilia between them, file boxes they'd barely managed to lug inside the little speakeasy. They would make Derek carry them back out. Boxes that contained the life he'd lived within the walls of the BAU, his awards and medals, his books, Jack's handprints when he'd been small enough to happily endure fingerpaints and construction paper. She guessed that now his tastes ran more toward video games and bikini posters, though with Hotch for a father...maybe not the latter. She wasn't sure he would even know where to begin with those things...that kid needed Derek's influence in his life.

“My marriage fell apart because of the hours I worked, if you recall.”

“No, your marriage fell apart because you wouldn't leave the BAU for a job that didn't require you to travel so often. You know what? Let's be real here...your marriage fell apart because you chose Derek Morgan over your wife.”

He frowned at that cruelty, but he couldn't refute it. Wasn't it sort of the truth? Derek called, asked for his help, said they needed him and he came running. But was he running away from Haley and a job that would be mediocre at best, or was he running to Derek and a serial killing single father who was using his son as bait? Well, that was a question better left for another day, or maybe never. He would rather not think about comparing the two great loves of his life, and the way they each in their way drove the other to ruin. Derek allowed photos of Haley to hang on their walls and that had to be enough when it was all said and done.

Emily, with a fresh drink in her hand, relented at his silence. She crossed a line and didn't want to see how much further she could push him before he simply got up and left. He was known to do that, just up and leave. “How is it that you, of all people, managed to land Derek Morgan anyway? I tried. You know that? God...did I try...”

“That's not the way he tells it. You refused his advances...many advances, from what I understand. He was pretty taken with you.”

“Well,” she started, licking the bourbon from her purple stained lips. There was a rush of memory that flooded her, warmed her tired bones. Gideon once told her that everyone went through a phase when they started working at Quantico, no one was immune. Emily scoffed, said she preferred the fairer sex but Gideon only nodded that knowing grandfatherly nod and walked away, leaving her to her own devices. Some of which involved flirting with a man she didn't want to sleep with. “I won't speak ill of your lover...but he sure gave up awfully fast.”

“On you.” Hotch smirked then, finally taking a sip of his drink. Scotch and soda, the cubed ice clinked against the edges of the glass. He really was getting old. She didn't care much for the implication hanging in the air between them even if it was true.

“What are you saying, Hotchner?”

“Just that he knows when something is worth pursuing...” There was that damned twinkle in his eye that she loathed, and if they were in private, she would probably have punched him in the shoulder, knocked him over. She was sure she could do it.

“You're a catty old bitch, you know that?”

“Will you stay with the BAU? I know that you had intended to return to Interpol once Peter Lewis was apprehended, but with my...”

Oh, she wasn't ready for that abrupt change of topic. She calls him a bitch and he blindsides her with that? She narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips, interrupting him mid-thought. Before he had a chance to say something endearing...she didn't want it.

“Your betrayal.”

“Yes, of course, with my betrayal...will you go back to London, or will you stay?”

“Do I have a choice?”

Hotch, to his credit, forced a smile. The kind that read as weary, world-worn, like he understood more than she did. And he'd come by that knowledge through years of pain. His voice was quiet and forlorn. “Everyone has a choice.”

“I don't know. It does seem easier now, the idea of putting down roots. I don't mean to be rude, but without you there it feels...less like I'm intruding on something. Playing in someone else's sandbox. After I died, it was just...aw shit. It was just hard, you know? Knowing what you and JJ did for me, what the team went through on my behalf...but hell. I'm over it now. Shiny new Emily, right?”

He nodded, understanding in some way. He was sort of in the thick of that right now himself, coming to terms with his old life being out of reach and a new life stretching out before him. Uncharted territory. Her words stung, he wouldn't deny that, but he did understand it. She'd never really been able to re-establish her life after her death, and while the team moved on and forgave them all...she hadn't. She looked at him losing weight rapidly and knew what lengths he'd gone to, what he'd sacrificed on her behalf, and it would never be okay. She could never go back to where they'd been. He risked it all for her life, and he would have done the same for any of them in the same position...but the thing was, she was never supposed to come back. He grieved her like they all did, he moved on like they did. He didn't keep tabs; he didn't ask questions. She was dead and buried, for her own safety and the team's because she knew...it hadn't just been for her. It was to keep all of them safe. With her dead and buried, Doyle wouldn't target the BAU, and even then they dispersed like leaves on the wind.

And yet...here they were. Square one. Older, maybe wiser, definitely tired. And a little bitter.

“Good. They need you.”

“Oh horsehit. Finish that drink, dammit. I'm practically drinking alone here. I do not drink alone.” She was already hailing her next, frustrated that he wasn't keeping up. He never really had, but he used to at least try. He looked so old, so worn, but also somehow happier than he had in years. Maybe ever. Derek was good for him. And, in that turn, she knew he was good for Derek too. It was rare that a couple achieved the kind of balance that they came by so naturally.

She might have been a little jealous, but that would go to their heads so she wouldn't let on.

“I can't toss them back like I used to,” he answered mournfully, sipping a little more. “My stomach can't handle it. It's already complaining.”

“Soft. You've gone soft.” She paused, reclining a little in her seat and nudging him with the toe of her boot playfully. She still couldn't believe he was sitting across from her in this little speakeasy that smelled like old leather and booze. “I know what you mean though. I'll have a hangover for a week after this. One drink and I pay for it. Getting old fucking sucks.”

“I injured my back two nights ago,” he offered, finally finishing off his drink. She gave him a look of concern, glancing first at him, then the boxes he'd just stubbornly carried from her office down to the bar, and he smiled that infuriating smile of his. The one that was meant to be reassuring but only filled her with anger. “I'm fine. It's nothing, just strained I suppose.”

“What did you do?”

“I slept. I went to bed feeling fine and woke up hardly able to stand up straight.”

“Oh,” she started, staring into her third or fourth glass of bourbon with some apprehension. Hangover imminent. “I bet your honey rubbed that sore spot right out with his big strong hands...”

“He did no such thing.” Hotch paused, pursing his lips, eyes wide. It wasn't that he was scandalized, but talking like this in public did make him feel a little on edge. “I was home alone. He works much earlier than I do, and I tend to sleep in these days. I called in sick and laid in bed all day if you can believe that. I read an entire book.”

“Wait wait wait...you sleep now? You actually sleep? You sly sonofabitch. You set me up. It's been weeks since I've slept more than 3 hours a night and you're over here sleeping in? Calling in sick and laying in bed? I'm starting to feel like I've been tricked...”

“No one forced your hand, Emily. You missed them and you came back willingly.”

“Yeah, okay, I missed them but your job sucks.”

“Your job. Your job sucks.”

“Ohhhhh...you know what? You know what? You're cut off. No more drinking for you, Aaron. I don't think I like you drunk.”

“I'm not drunk.” He hadn't even ordered a second drink, poking at her was too fun to be distracted from.

“No more for you. I, however, need another. Pronto.”

Hotch did finally order a second drink, but at his request it was more soda than scotch. He wasn't lying, his stomach couldn't handle that kind of assault anymore. It never really could but he used to try harder, be more willing to deal with the consequences...he'd lately grown accustomed to a different lifestyle. His misery was not a given any longer. Not anymore than was necessary, anyway. A certain amount was owed to the damage he'd done to his body in his younger years, either at his hand or with his permission, but he wasn't in the market for new problems.

Emily, however, sucked down two more before she ceased. “I love you, you know that?”

“I know.”

“And him. I love Derek too. Even though he took you from me, from the team. I bet you would have come back if not for his pretty face...”

Hotch, smiling a little sadly, wouldn't deny her that. He had very little to live for outside of that, when you really dug down to it. He wasn't too proud to admit it. But there was Jack, and there was Derek and there was Hank, and that was three very good reasons to not only live, but thrive. At fucking last.

“This may come as a shock to you, but he didn't actually ask me to stay in Chicago,” Hotch said quietly. She stared at him, eyes wide and wild in the dim light of the bar. She'd assumed that Derek professed his love in some grand way, begged him to please stay, move in...maybe even given him a key. To hear that he'd done no such thing gave her pause. “He'd been operating under the assumption that I would go back. To Virginia, certainly, and likely to the BAU. Jack asked to stay and as it turned out, I had no actual desire to leave either. My mind had been made up about the BAU from the moment we left. Chicago took a little longer.”

"Jack likes Chicago huh?”

“He does. He's happy there, and I think I've done enough damage...he deserves to have a say in our lives.”

“So Jack said no more serial killers.”

“He did. In fewer words, perhaps, but yes.”

“Could he do that for me, too?”

Hotch smiled and glanced up in time to watch Derek's shadowy figure come through the open doorway of the bar.

“When you're ready, give me a call. I'll have him quote you a price for his services.”

Bending forward, Derek pressed a kiss to the top of Hotch's head. That was one of the few PDAs Hotch would allow, even though he could have done without Emily seeing it.

“You losers ready to hit the road? This place is lame. What is that, elevator music?"

Derek, ushering them along quickly, hefted both boxes into his arms while Emily paid the entire tab. Hotch stood slowly beside the table, rubbing absentmindedly at the small of his back...that chair hadn't done him any favors. Maybe he would ask Derek to rub his back later, that idea hadn't sounded half bad. Slowly he gazed around the bar, taking it all in. Some part of him knew he wouldn't be back to Virginia for some time, and it was possible he may never come down to this area of town again. With no real attachment to Quantico any longer, it didn't seem likely that he'd have any reason to come this way. There was a peacefulness in that realization. He'd anticipated some sadness, some remorse, and gladly found none. He had moved on.

“You wanna come back to the hotel for a few more drinks? Order some room service?” Derek asked, and Emily glanced at her watch apprehensively.

“Because of you and your siren song, I have a fuck-ton of paperwork to finish...I'll text you losers when I get done and see if you're still awake. Maybe we can have ourselves a nightcap.”

“Sure,” Hotch said, knowing that it wouldn't happen. That Emily would be at work until she couldn't concentrate anymore, until she was practically falling asleep or vibrating out of her skin and then she'd catch a cab home. Because Emily hated goodbyes and this sure as hell felt like a big one. “Text Derek. I may be asleep.”

She did punch him in the shoulder this time, scrunching her nose in disgust.

[spacehondacivic]

if you look up “whore” in the dictionary you’ll find my name right after Hotch’s

[criminalmindsgonewrong]

 "Uh, what have you missed? Henry’s birthday’s coming up. He’s going to be six.” Here, she stopped, again, collecting herself. It had gotten easier, as the time passed, to fight the tears that sprung to her eyes upon entering this room, and since Hotch had been discharged and Ava had gone home, she could almost pretend everything was normal when she put Henry to bed at night, but it wasn’t. It was still so far from normal. “I asked him what he wanted for his birthday.” Her words were choked now, her throat full of emotion and her eyes full of unshed tears. “He said he wants to see his Aunt Emmy again.”

[missmitchieg]

WIP Wednesday

"If my mother knew you better, she'd probably try to set us up." Emily laughed.

"If my mother knew you at all, I think she'd be begging me to marry you already." Aaron snorted, shaking his head. "As if you would ever date me."

Emily tilted her head as she regarded Aaron, giving a shrug. "I dunno. If I was straight, I think I'd be into you." She said casually.

"Really?" Aaron's voice was soft as he looked at her.

"Mm-hmm." Emily mumbled, answering a text from Penelope as her phone buzzed. Belatedly, she realized she just accidentally came out to her boss, turning to him quickly. "I mean- I, umm..."

"Prentiss." Aaron held a hand up, stopping her panic right there. "It's ok. I won't tell anyone else." He promised, keeping his voice at a whisper.

[uranometrias]

✮ꜜ : ❛ you're still a traitor : criminal minds x fem! reader [ pt. 1 ]

pairing: aaron hotchner x bau! reader (unrequited) | spencer reid x bau! reader | s7 team x bau! reader (platonic)

summary: being in love with your boss was hard. especially when there were so many factors surrounding you that made the possibility of being with him, out of the question. for starters, there was your age gap, and hotch was a stickler with baggage that he couldn't quite disclose to you. hotch was a fantasy, always out of your grasp, that is until emily dies. in the four months that followed emily's death at the hands of ian doyle, you found yourself living a life that you'd only ever dreamed about. hotch was careful, but the proof was right in front of your face as he went out of his way to care for you while you grieved. how stupid of you not to realize something was horribly wrong. but now emily was back, and hotch was back from reassignment in pakistan, and you were all on trial, and absolutely nothing makes sense except for the bitter understanding that you were a pawn in a game that in so few words was "way bigger than you." but at least you had spence.

content warnings: this is literally a barrel of angst. reader breaks the skin of her palms with her nails. mentions of slight! anxiety. follows the plot of "it takes a village" aka the iconic "this is calm, and it's doctor" episode. flashbacks x present day! spencer has been crushing on reader for as long as she's been crushing on hotch. hotch is NOT romantically interested in reader. slight! hotchniss vibes (but that's up to your interpretation. jj x reader angst! reader does not react to emily's return well. mentions of unit transfer / bureau resignation. spencer confesses to reader... open ending making room for a part 2! heartbreak, drinking, crying. best friend! penelope garcia + derek morgan. reader has a sister & niece.

read part two right here.

Your leg shakes violently as you sat just outside the court room, hands balled into tight fists as your nails press deep into the callousing skin of your palms. You couldn't say you were nervous, as far as the previous case was concerned you'd done everything you could to save Declan. You'd take whatever suspension they'd throw your way without batting an eye. You didn't regret the part you played, no, you just regretted the team that you were apart of.

It had been a crazy seven months. You remembered when things turned left, back when Emily started acting weird. She was shorter, snappier, she had less patience with any of you. Long gone were the days of wasting your time with jokes and innuendos. She had a lot on her mind, a lot none of you were privy to, and you remembered how you'd stretched yourself. You'd all tried so hard to show her you were there, to let her know that you could be trusted.

Your face contorts into a scowl, it had become your new resting face in the last few weeks. God, you hated how stupid and naive you'd been back then. Now that everything was out in the open, it was almost too obvious where the deception began. What was the point of taking care of people who had no trouble treating you like some disposable pawn piece to be moved to fit their whims. Damn. You were crying again, you'd been doing that a whole lot too lately.

You scrub furiously at your face, and you hate your teammates a little bit more. JJ had gone first, face devoid of any timidity or uncertainty. Long gone were the days of Jennifer Jareau the Liaison, she was a profiler now, one of you. When she'd come back, you'd been ecstatic. The unit hadn't been the same since she was transferred, you'd missed her so gravely. But now, now the sight of her just reminded you of the secret you'd been holding on the tip of your tongue.

Hotch wasn't the only one who had known about Emily.

You feel a hand moving to rest on the top of your thigh, and you flinch violently. You sniffle audibly, eyes moving to rest on Penelope, your God-given solace. Your best friend. She, Derek, and Spencer were the only ones who wholeheartedly understood what you felt. But even still, Hotch hadn't used their feelings to make them blind, the way he had done with you. He'd played you like a goddamn fiddle, and you'd let him. Because you were weak, stupid, grieving, and in love.

Hotch had never been in the cards for you, not that you weren't beautiful, gorgeous, an amazing agent. You had the stamp of approval of both Agents Gideon and Rossi. Erin Strauss had been (by your request) rejecting every request of transfer any other unit had tried to offer. You were an asset to the bureau, and a major part of this team. You'd been around since the beginning. You'd witnessed doe-eyed Spencer Reid join at age 23, full of facts and anxiety.

You'd seen Derek blossom and break out of his play-boy persona, and become someone that other branches of the law fought to have. You'd been around for so long, you'd witnessed so much, and Hotch knew that. Which you suppose is what you allowed yourself to believe was the reason he'd never shown signs of reciprocating your feelings. He was respecting your future, leaving your options open. But those were the delusional musings of a girl in love with someone she can't have. Hotch wasn't into you, and you knew that.

So why, why, why did you let him convince you of the opposite? For even one measly second? And, yes, of course in the grand scheme of things you understood why he did what he did. But it didn't make it hurt less. In fact knowing his duty to Emily outweighed his duty to anything else just made this whole ordeal feel more like a slap to your face. Penelope gives your thigh a reassuring squeeze, and you're pulled from your running mind. You blink, registering her worry.

"Are you alright?" she asks, and it's the first time anyone's asked you that since the first day. You know they were giving you space to cope, which only seemed to reaffirm your feelings of betrayal and loneliness. "We'll get out of this, alright? And we'll-we'll be able to be a complete family again." she proceeds, and serves you right for believing someone understood what was going on. They'd all misunderstood you. They thought your behavior was fear of the team being dismantled. Some profilers you were surrounded by.

"I'm fine, Garcia." you say, and you can't bite the snippiness if you wanted to. "I just want to get this over with, and get the hell out of here." you add, and you're standing up, Penelope's hand dropping limply as you move your seat. You find a more isolated corner, plopping back into the uncomfortable seat, as the legs squeak slightly. Your leg is back to shaking, only now you've taken to chomping on your bottom lip. You don't imagine Penelope's hurt expression, you know without a doubt that you'll cave. And you can't.

Not this time.

Your phone chirps in your pocket, and you jump once more. Your jumpiness was a new attribute triggered by the amount of sleep you hadn't been getting. Pulling it out you see that it's a call from your big sister, and you curse under your breath. You were supposed to be watching your niece so your sister could pick up an extra shift. None of you had really expected for things to go this far.

"Hey..." you wince, because you can hear the heaviness of your feelings ladled over your words.

"Hey, are you alright? I got a call from Spence." and you're surprised. You look up, searching for the brunette anywhere in the vicinity, and find that he hasn't shown up yet. It's a bit of a shock, especially for someone as punctual as Reid. You did however spot JJ still meandering about, and she's not looking tense at all. Despite your anger towards her, you couldn't deny that she'd quickly fallen into the role of a profiler. It fit her almost like a glove.

"Spencer called you?" you ask, and you hear the tension in your sister's sigh. You imagine that she must be exhausted. Your sister did a lot, and managing a blossoming family was hard. Your niece was five, and she had a new addition to the family on the way. Which was why it was so important for you to be there on the days she needed you to watch your niece.

"Yes, he said something about..." your sister lowers her voice. "Emily." she questions, and you find your head nodding despite the fact she can't see you. "Are you alright?" she asks again, and this time she emphasizes how important it is for her to hear directly from your mouth the state of your wellbeing. Your sister seemed to always see right through you, it was a wonder she wasn't the one in the FBI.

"I'm-" you trail off before you can lie. "I'm sure if they could they'd disband the unit." you whisper, and you look up just as Derek is exiting the court room, Penelope looking terrified as she takes his place. Derek scans the room before he spots you, and his eyes soften. JJ approaches him and the two seem to chat animatedly. Still they look so serious, there was no room for smiles and banter today.

It's not long though before they're looking at you again, and you know that they know. Your self isolation wasn't something you were exactly being subtle about. You immediately look away, focusing in on what your sister was saying. "Bad decisions or not, they're no good without your unit." she says, and pride still manages to swell up inside of you. "You guys do good work. You work because you're together, everyone plays their role." she proceeds, and it's then you shatter.

Play your role. What role exactly did you play? Hotch was the stoic leader that somehow seemed to play the role of pseudo-father so well for every member of the team, with the exception of Rossi and Derek. Derek, was the shoe-in for promotion. The older brother who teased you relentlessly, but would fight til his last breath to protect you, and he always did. JJ, the pretty girl. The one who everyone on the team at some point had been attracted to. But more than that, she was resilient, a subtle glue that kept your unit running.

You quickly slot through everyone else's roles in your head, and huff. What were you except the odd-woman out. The dummy with a crush on your unit chief, and too much knowledge for your own good. You supposed that was why Hotch had to distract you with exaggerated gestures. If you got out of your feelings and really thought about it, you knew that if anyone on the team was going to see through the smoke, and uncover the truth about Emily, it would be you.

So he had to handicap you. What better way than by hanging the possibility of a romance in your face. Still, it was cruel. Just more proof that this was not the family you made them out to be. "Yeah, I'm not so sure." you reply, and you can hear how disgruntled you sound. It smacks you like a ton of bricks, and it's then you truly realize just how hurt you were by everything. Your sister sighs deeply, and it makes you second guess yourself. Were you being irrational? Unfair?

"I know what Hotch did." she begins, "And it was awful to play with your feelings like that." she expresses, and you feel validated. "And nobody's expecting you to just welcome Emily back with open arms after months and months of thinking that she was dead. You were deceived, and I want you to feel however you want, okay?" she says, and you don't respond, mostly because it feels rhetorical. "Just don't do anything rash without thinking it through alright?"

You don't know what she means by that so your eyes roll. "I think we're well past that, if they find us guilty I could lose my job." you remind her, and she chuckles. You don't find it funny, you can't. Your love for the job outweighed a lot of things, so it had been a no-brainer to help Derek seek out Ian Doyle. You wanted his head spinning on a pike, and you weren't planning to take no for an answer.

two weeks prior.

You were sitting across from Derek, steaming mug of coffee in your head that was more french vanilla creamer than anything else. You held the staged photograph of Declan and Louise. Derek's holding an identical photo, a heady sigh escaping him as you both rack your brains for some sort of bullseye. Something that would point you right in the direction of Declan. "Okay, Emily needed to get Declan a new identity." Penelope says as she walks into the office. She sits in the chair right beside you, arm full of stress balls and files. "So she must have used someone that she trusted." she proceeds.

"Alright, well that's a short list, but it's probably not even written down." is Derek's tired reply.

"Even if it was, she's been so many places, with so many different points of contact. " you speak up, and you take a sip from your coffee, praying it kicks in and wakes you up a bit. "It's not gonna be super easy to track and narrow them all down." you say, and you realize your mistake just as Penelope is placing a file in your hands.

"Oh, tell me about it. Two columns, domestic and imports." she says as she passes the other to Derek, who's looking at you with an amused smile stretched across his face. Serves you both right for underestimating the genius of Penelope Garcia. "I accept your apology, cutie." she says, leaning into you as you grin, smacking your lips in a kiss.

"Hey." JJ's at the door of the office, all three of you turning to look her way as she beams brightly. "Have you guys seen, Spence?" she questions, and you remember how you'd offered to bring him a coffee as a respite from the garbage water they served in the bullpen. He'd shut you down politely asking to reschedule as he was going to be spending his day at the Firing Range. You understood the need, he wanted to protect himself, and the team. He had to get better.

"He's at the firing range." you and Penelope speak in unison, making eye contact, as hers narrow. You knew instantly she would have questions about why you of all people knew Spencer's whereabouts.

"Again?" JJ questions as you shrug your shoulders, her eyes flitting towards you.

"Ever since Prentiss died, he..." Penelope speaks your thoughts.

"Right." JJ nods her head. "Uh... did you guys just get a new case?" she questions, hands clasping together in front of her.

"It's just an old one." Derek answers.

"Do you want some fresh eyes?" she asks, and it's painfully clear that she's still figuring out how to feel more like the team again.

"Not just yet." Derek denies, and he's polite, but you knew why he was being this way. You were all for keeping anything related to Doyle under wraps until you were further along.

"Ok. Um, well let me know." she hums, and then she looks back at you. "Y/N, can I..." your eyebrows raise as she trails off. "Can we talk? It'll only take a second." she hopes, and you look to Derek and Penelope for a moment.

"We won't do anything big without you." Derek promises, and you nod, closing the file, and handing it off, before you stand to your feet. You follow JJ out of the office, and down the hallway, stopping just before you reach the heart of the bullpen. You look to her expectantly, a bit confused, but not on edge. You had missed JJ, and in the two months she'd been back, it'd been pretty hard to get some real time with her. You'd hoped a break in the case would help to change that.

"Everything okay, Jaige?" you ask, and you witness how she exhales in relief right in front of you.

"God, it is now." she says, and your eyebrows jump up. She seems to understand the confusion on your face as she lets out a chuckle, dispelling more of her own tension. "You've been calling me Agent Jareau since I got back... not JJ and definitely not Jaige." she explains, as it seems to register for you. "I guess I was just a little worried I'd done something to make you mad at me." she admits, and she's clearly sheepish.

"Oh." you chuckle yourself, and you reach out to hold her shoulder. "No, you've done nothing wrong." you promise. "I've just been a bit in my head these last few weeks, but I'm really glad you're back." JJ beams at your words, and all the remaining tension in her posture dissipates instantly.

present day.

"Hey, everything alright?" you look up, pulled from your thoughts at the presence of Spencer Reid. He's holding a medium cup of a steaming liquid that you can only assume is coffee, and you find yourself smiling despite yourself. "I remember you asked me a few weeks ago about coffee." he holds it out, and you're quick to press your phone to your shoulder, neck craning slightly as you take it.

"Thanks, Spence." you mumble, and you can practically hear your sister's smirk from the other line. "Could you just give me one second, I'm talking to my sister?" you question, and Spencer nods his head, eyes widening in understanding. You smile politely, and he beams back at you, pretty eyes seemingly brightening before he's making his way over to Derek who's smirking like the nuisance he is.

"Hey." you mumble once he's gone, and your sister is snickering. For some odd reason she'd been dropping hints that maybe the guy on the team you should be setting your sights on was Spencer. To your defense, it wasn't like he wasn't attractive. You'd be an idiot to deny his boyish charm and good looks, but after he'd sat you down and admitted he had a crush on JJ, back during his second year, you'd sort of blocked any potential attraction towards him out of your head.

Now he was just Spence.

"Hey, I should go. I just wanted to check in, Spence made me aware of everything so I've got everything figured out on this end." she promises you, and you nod once more despite yourself. "Just think about what I said, alright? It'd be a shame for you to leave behind such a good job." she finishes, and you don't know how to respond to that, so you don't. "Call me later?" she questions, though you know she's telling you more than asking.

"I will." you reply, and she sounds pleased as she exhales.

"I'll talk to you soon." and then the phone is clicking. You adjust your grip on your coffee, using your free hand to grab your phone, and place it down on your lap. The coffee smelled good, it was from that cute shoppe that sold different pastries and always smelled like cinnamon. You'd been there with Spencer and Penelope a handful of times, and they always made your coffee exactly how you liked it. Still, Spencer had never ordered for you so you await a mishap.

The first sip warms you up instantly, and you're knocked flat on your ass by how on point the drink was. Your eyes snap upwards, looking across the lobby towards Spencer, who's awkwardly sitting in a seat, Derek beside him. JJ was gone now, but you figured she was probably with Hotch and Emily, the three of them had been attached at the hip since the team was "back together". You're certain them being gone was what led you to standing to your feet.

You walk towards Derek and Spencer quietly, slipping into a seat next to Spencer as Derek leaned up against the wall. "I didn't know that you knew my coffee order." you whisper, and Spencer turns to look at you. He offers a half smile, you were certain you'd be passing a lot of those back and forth until the court proceedings were done with.

"Of course I do." he shrugs his shoulders. "I pay attention when you talk." he promises, and you wonder why he had to like JJ, and why you had to like Hotch. On paper, and off paper Spencer Reid was the perfect candidate for boyfriend, plus he never pretended to be into you to keep you from finding out the truth. You both fall into silence, there's not much else to say, but you let his words repeat in your head. I pay attention when you talk. It makes your stomach twist.

"You alright over there, pretty girl?" Derek's voice barely reaches over a whispered volume. It seemed you all were feeling the dreary aftershocks of an ordeal like the one you'd found yourselves in. You look up at Derek tiredly, and you don't understand why he's asking you this, not until you feel the scalding heat of hot coffee singing your skin. Two sets of worried eyes are drawn to your cup, it's squished in your palm, brown liquid streaming everywhere.

"Shit." you hiss, and the cup falls to the floor, you're quick to clutch your burnt hand. God, you were really torn up over this.

"I'll get this cleaned up." Derek promises, and he looks at Spencer as if he was communicating something he didn't want you privy to. Spencer falters, only for a second before he's reaching out for your forearm, and guiding you to your feet. You trail after him, walking down the long corridor, listening out for the telltale sign that Penelope was done, and they'd be calling you next. On your route you pass JJ who looks concerned as she looks between the two of you.

"Spence, Y/N?" she says, and you avert your gaze, you're not sure if you're more angry or embarrassed.

"Sh-she spilled some coffee." Spencer explains, but he doesn't stop walking. "Shouldn't be more than a first degree burn, if she soaks her hand for five minutes, everything should be fine." he is passive as he speaks, eyes never quite meeting hers as he continues to lead you.

"Let me take her." JJ offers, and both you and Spencer are quick to offer denials. She looks hurt but masks it quickly. "It's not like you can go into the girl's bathroom with her, right?" she says and it's then you both realize you've got no other choice. He looks to you, trying to gauge how you'd feel about it, and you sigh. Maybe this was for the best, you could finally get things off your chest with JJ. It was only fair. He seems to clock the instant you've decided, and concedes.

"I'll be right out here." he promises, and you nod slowly. He looks like he wants to say more, but he doesn't get the chance to.

"Spence." JJ says his name a bit more sternly, and he resists the urge to cut his eyes in her direction. He ignores her long enough to take in your ailed hand, he saw the way the skin began to redden and swell. He seems cross as he passes you off to JJ, and you feel a bit silly being fussed over for something as minute as a coffee burn. JJ's earnest in the way she takes you to the nearest women's restroom. You hiss the second the cold water comes in contact with your skin.

You don't say anything to JJ though, losing your nerve the second the two of you were alone. She looks like she's waiting for you to say something though, eyes brimming with some sort of unease. She was reading you, using her new skills to profile you. You suppose that's exactly what pushes you to finally speak. "We said we'd never profile one another." you remind her crossly, and she's sheepish. "Just because you're doing it in your head doesn't make it any less invasive." you keep your wrist in place, hissing silently.

"If you would just talk to me I wouldn't have to go that far." she counters, and you blink. Fair, but you had every right to keep your distance from her. Just because the rest of the team was still more or less unaware of JJ's role in harboring the secret of Emily, you'd read right through her.

"What's there to talk about exactly?" you ask. "None of us want to be here dealing with this." and you take the route of the naive girl.

"I'm not talking about with the trial... and the senators." she shakes her head, and she's almost pleading as she tries to catch your eyes in the mirror. "I'm talking about Emily." she deadpans. "Everything that happened?" she proceeds. "You've hardly said a word to her since she came back." she doesn't want to come off like she's scolding you, and so she takes in a breath before her tone can become defensive.

"I don't speak to ghosts." and it's a quiet little dig that she hears all the same. It forces a tense silence to wash over the restroom, the only sound slicing through the awkwardness is the water rushing from the spout. JJ clears her throat, blinking a few times as she adjusts your wrist, allowing the water to evenly coat your burn. Only a few more minutes of this and you could make your grand escape.

"That's not fair." she finally voices her thoughts with a deep sigh.

"Isn't it?" you snap. "Seven months we thought she was dead." and you suppose that was a mistake of hers, getting you started. "Pretty lucky that you were off at the Pentagon, right?" you ask sourly. "Or was it lucky that you were in on the whole scam? I mean you were at the funeral, but you didn't have to cry, you didn't have to grieve." you accuse, and JJ's jaw slackens, clearly surprised at your outburst.

"I lost my friend too, okay?" she counters and you scoff.

"Did you?" you argue. "All those nights I called you crying, all those texts, those check ins... how long did you know Emily was still alive?" you demand, and JJ's feeling cornered, and her heart rate is picking up. She knew there'd be mixed feelings about this, but she'd never expected to ever be at odds with you. You, Spencer, and JJ rounded out the younger crowd on the team, it was your job to stick together. "Answer me." you insist, and you sound so crushed as you speak.

"I knew the whole time." she answers, and you nod your head, because of course you already knew.

"Exactly." you sneer. "You're a liar." you hate how angry this whole thing makes you, but you can't deny it. They'd played with your feelings, all of them, and now you were meant to behave like nothing was wrong. "Did you know about Hotch?" you ask, and JJ flinches. She doesn't answer for a while, and the water seems to rush even louder in your ears.

"I told him it wasn't smart." she finally answers. "But we needed to ensure that Emily wasn't at risk, it was harmless... just some flirting to keep you from getting too close to the truth." and JJ is speaking as if this wasn't some major breach of your position as coworkers and alleged friends. "He'd never cross the line." she reminds you, and the reminder that yeah, Hotch would never be with you makes you wince.

"And he didn't." she says this like she knows for certain. "It was flirting, Y/N. it didn't mean anything, we just needed you to..." and she trails off when she sees how destroyed you look at her admission. "Y/N..." she trails off, and you inhale sharply.

"Don't." you exhale, and you snatch your hand from her grasp. The cool air of the bathroom immediately attacks the welts blooming on your hand. You don't have time to pay them any mind.

"We just wanted to protect you... and keep Emily safe in the process. The more of us that knew Emily was alive, the more of a liability we'd be while Doyle was still on the run." she says, and you suppose in the grand scheme you understand. As profilers, as special agents working for the FBI they'd done great work. As your friends, as people you'd considered family for years... they'd betrayed you.

Plain and simple.

"Congratulations, you did exactly what you meant to." you say dully, and you sniffle, though no tears are set to come. Instead you feel more anger blossoming in the pit of your gut. "I hope it was worth it." and it's dramatic, but you deserve the dramatics, sidestepping the blonde and leaving her behind just as Emily is stepping inside. She looks at you wide-eyed, before she sees JJ standing there seemingly frazzled.

"Is everything okay?" she questions, and you don't offer her an answer, instead leaving the restroom as your earlier words ring in your head. I don't talk to ghosts. And you don't, and despite your history you'd never allow yourself to. You find your way back to the seats that led to the courtroom, Derek was gone, the only person still there was Spencer. He stands up as soon as he hears your shoes.

"Where's Derek?" you ask quietly.

"He left with Garcia." he answers quietly. "I guess they're dismissed for now. They're in with Dave now." he explains, and your eyes shift to the door. More than likely you or Spencer would be next.

You sit down, and Spencer follows you, sinking back into his seat as his legs just barely brush against yours. "Are you scared?" you ask, and Spencer's head shakes.

"Are you?" he shoots back, and you look away from the door.

"Not of this." you admit. "But of what comes after." you add and Spencer's pretty brown eyes are swimming with confusion. "Can we really all bounce back from something like this?" you ask, and it's rhetorical, but he answers you all the same.

"We've come back from worse." he reminds you, and that faint smile is worming back onto your face.

"Sure we have." you agree numbly. Spencer's eyes drop to your hand.

"How does it feel?" he asks, and you follow his gaze with a shrug of your shoulders. He doesn't look pleased by this approach, and it makes you sigh.

"Just feels like I ran some water over it." you admit, and Spencer chuckles. "A bit anticlimactic if I'm honest with you, Doctor." and you're partly teasing, mostly because it's so easy.

"You'll need some sort of petroleum jelly... there's some pretty good products that aren't at all carcinogenic like the leading brands." he begins on a tangent, and it makes you smile a bit bigger. "That with some gauze is the perfect remedy for such a mild burn." he proceeds and you look down at it. There's a moment of silence between you, before he's talking again. "Can I ask what happened?" he whispers.

You hum, almost like you're pretending you can't hear him.

"With the coffee? Was it not good? I tried to follow your order exactly." he says and you squeeze your eyes closed.

"It wasn't you or the coffee, Spence." you promise him, and without thinking you reach out, small hand resting on his shoulder. "The coffee was perfect." you insist, and he relaxes, but not enough. "I guess I'm just thrown about all of this." you proceed. "No matter how much I try to remind myself that they did this to protect Emily... that their deception was for a good reason, it just makes me angrier. Why is it that I have to rationalize being angry?" you question.

"I have to reign my feelings in for the sake of the team." you're careful not to grow loud. Spencer's eyebrows are pressed inwardly, head shaking.

"You don't." he denies you quickly. "You shouldn't." he corrects.

"You're right." you agree, and your silent for only a second. "I wish everyone could be like you, Spence." you say, and your words surprise him. He feels this familiar wave of adoration that always seems to swallow him whole whenever he was around you.

"Really?" he knows it might be pathetic, to be hopeful for something like this. The chance to hear what popped in your head whenever you thought of him.

"Yeah." you say firmly, and he tries not to look too eager. "You're so smart." you tell him, and he knows this, but it still feels nice hearing it from you. "And you're always nice to me." you add with a quiet laugh. "And you'd never lie to me would you?" you ask, and in truth, it's not a fair question. Spencer wasn't in the position the others were in.

"What do you mean?" he asks, and he fears it may be the wrong response. You don't even react, at least not that he can tell.

"Nothing." you settle on, head shaking from side to side. "Forget I mentioned it." and he doesn't really want to remind you that his memory quite literally makes that impossible. "I heard that you weren't fighting the suspension." you say conversationally, and he's surprised, mostly because the only person he'd told about that was Derek. Which meant you had been talking about him when he wasn't around.

"I guess I just stand by everything we did." he tells you, and your hand still hurts a bit, but it's definitely a problem for a later version of you.

"Me too. I'm glad we got Doyle, and Declan's safe." you exhale, and despite your anguish towards the team, you meant every word.

"And the team's back together." Spencer himself doesn't sound so convinced. You look over at him at this, your own unconvinced expression slowly cracking through his attempt at a cool facade.

"Is it?" you ask, and Spencer's face softens, a small little frown taking over his otherwise usually content face. He couldn't admit it now, mostly because it didn't feel like the right time, but he paid attention to you. He knew all about your complicated feelings for Hotch "I don't want to be on a team with people who purposely keep me in the dark about things." you ask, and Spencer pauses.

"I'm sure they wouldn't if they had another choice." he offers, and it's not how he feels at all, but it's what you need to hear.

"You don't believe that." you deny, and Spencer can't fight his chuckle. "Or maybe you do, you've always been good at seeing the best in people."

"Oh, do you think so?" it's a bit of a surprise. With your job description it would've made more sense for you to tell him that he saw the worst in people. He felt it was a fair thing to say that he was exceptionally good at his job, but it's then he recognizes what it is you're truly saying, or at least alluding to. It makes his face heat up immediately, cheeks blossoming a rosy red that makes him want to roll his eyes.

"Of course." you promise, and then you're looking at him again. Your face is one of the prettiest he's ever seen, and it's not even subtle. You seem a bit uncertain of your own allure though, which to him is a major shock. "You're like the best person ever." you add, and he expects you to snicker or show some sign that you were joking, but you don't. Bad for him, because his deluded mind full of fantasies starring you would take words like those the wrong way.

"I think you're the best person ever..." he's whispered this, but you hear it all the same, and he's lucky enough to witness the way your entire face morphs. Despite the bleariness in your eyes, you beam brightly. He hates though, that you start to cry. It starts with one tear slipping down your cheek and dripping into your lap. The onslaught comes right after, and before you know it, you're choking on sobs.

"God..." he hears the bitter tang of self-loathing that attaches and weaves itself into your otherwise honey-filled tone. "You're making this so hard, Spencer." you huff, and you scrub at your face harshly. He doesn't understand, but he's too frozen in place to ask you what you mean. Lucky him, you seem to know that you've got explain a bit, so you do. "I'm gonna resign." you say this quietly, sniffling as more tears fall. Spencer feels like he's misheard you.

He wants to have misheard you. He flounders a bit, and he's mentally scolding himself, because he has to hurry the fuck up and say something. "You can't!" and he's scolding himself again for sounding too eager. You jump a bit at the outburst, and he winces right along with you. "We just got everyone back." he reminds you, and you exhale, head nodding in understanding.

"I know." you promise him. "Why do you think this is so hard. You think I want to be the asshole that turns the unit on its head?" you ask. "But I can't stay here and pretend that everything's fine... or act like I don't feel thrown about all of this." you proceed, and of course, Spencer understands, he's upset he was lied too as well.

"I understand." he admits with a sigh, and you let out a quiet noise of relief, almost like you were worried he'd be upset with you. He assumes this is just him being delusional again. You look like you have something sitting on the tip of your tongue, so he stays silent to give you the room to say all that you need to.

"Have you ever had feelings for someone?" you ask. You chuckle at the look he shoots you, "Not just for a second, Spence." you proceed. "I mean like... take your breath away, kind of almost-in-love feelings." you indulge, and Spencer's keen to shut his mouth. Yes, is the loud and resounding answer that rings in his head, because foolishly he'd allows you to captivate him like the siren you were almost three years prior. He'd be a dummy to tell you such now though.

"I-" he blinks harshly, eyes feeling too dry. "I can't say I have." he lies, and he remembers your words from earlier, how you'd praised him for being someone who would never lie to you. You don't seem to notice his deception though, and if you do, you're too in your own head to comment on it.

"Good." you say with a shuddered breath. "They're nothing but a headache, especially when the person doesn't want you back." you exhale the words, and it's like a dagger is being lunged into his chest. How dense could you possibly be with all your super smarts?

"Did something happen with Hotch?" he asks, and now it's your turn to be embarrassed, face pinching up as you choke on a breath. "I don't mean to pry, if it's personal... it's just that-" he trails off, seemingly waiting for you to berate him or tell him to back off. You don't, instead your nose twitches, and you begin to look at your shoes. "Y/N?" he nudges you with his elbow, and it's light.

"No." you finally say, head shaking. "I thought maybe..." you trail off, more embarrassment slicing at you as you cringe. "But it was all a ruse, just a way to keep me from getting too close, and figuring out everything about Emily before they wanted us to know." you say and Spencer's eyebrows furrow.

"They?" he pries, and you look at him like he's silly.

"Hotch and JJ." you answer plainly, and it takes Spencer a second. JJ who he'd went to for comfort for ten weeks? He blinks at you, and you shrug. "So you see... anyone that could take my feelings and use them to manipulate me... are they really worth sticking around for?" you ask, and Spencer doesn't want to validate you in this way. He wants to be selfish, he wants you to stay on the team.

He thinks about how devasted everyone would be. How devasted he would be to walk into the bullpen and find that your desk was empty.

"I don't want you to go..." he admits, and it's quite pitiful, the sadness that soaks the words like gasoline. You find yourself chomping on your lip again, nails pressing into the cuts of your palms, and Spencer's catching your bad habits in real time.

It's a bit invasive, the way his hand surges out, and stops you in your tracks. "Please don't do this." and you're not sure if he's talking about leaving the unit, or if he's referring to the gashes littering your hands. When he holds your palm out flat, and rubs his thumb across the bleeding indentations, you find that you understand quickly.

Every few seconds it's ebbing with more droplets of blood, and he's quick to wipe them away like they offend him. Just as he's moving to say something else, the doors to the courtroom are opening, and Dave Rossi is exiting, his eyes immediately on you and Spencer. You must look foolish, hands intertwined as you stare wide-eyed at the team's senior agent. It's probably why Spencer is dropping your hand as you're snatching it away from his grasp.

You still find that your eyes are quick to appraise one another. He's looking at you, and you're staring back, mouths parted as if you'd been caught. Had you been caught? Had there really been anything to catch? You don't have time to answer, because you're being called next. You frown at Spencer, standing to your feet as he feels his pulse threaten to leap to disrespectful speeds.

"Y/N..." he calls after you, and you stop for a second. Eager eyes fall back on him, and he's trailing off, because the look in your eyes says it all. If you got out of this without being fired, you could imagine a world where quitting the FBI no longer made you sick to your stomach. Silence befalls the space, and he shakes his head after a beat. You look disappointed but not surprised, inhaling deep and audibly as you march towards the court room.

Spencer doesn't know what you're going to say, but he hopes recalling all you'd been through in the last few weeks will be enough to make you stay. At least until he has the courage to ensure that you leaving the team doesn't equate to losing you entirely and completely.

[radiant-reid]

since im a sucker for secret relationships can you please write a blurb on reader getting caught sneaking in/out of spencer's hotel room during a case ? doesn't even have to be for spicy reasons mayb r just wanted some cuddles😔

i was watching a particularly hotchniss episode, sorry not sorry

It's a bad idea to sneak into Spencer's hotel room during a case, especially after Hotch has insisted everyone get some sleep. You could tell he needed some one-on-one time with you after a day filled with seeing some horrifically graphic images, and he'd never ask, so you had to see him.

The problem is getting out of the room and back to your own once he's asleep. Rossi's the lightest sleeper in the world, and he'll wake up if you close the door too loudly.

You slip out of Spencer's door, slowly closing it when someone behind you clears their throat.

It's Hotch, your boss, that you see when you turn around. Your cheeks heat up, and you know you look like a deer caught in front of headlights. There's no platonic explanation for why you're in your secret boyfriend's crewneck as you leave his room late at night.

The question of what he's doing up and in the hallway doesn't cross your mind until Emily pokes her head out of the door that he just closed, holding out her phone.

"You forgot... this." She trails off when she sees you, her bottom lip drawn between her teeth when she realizes she's not just talking to Hotch. That was not what you expected to see tonight. "Goodnight." She's quick to exit the conversation, leaving you and Hotch to awkwardly sort it out.

"I won't tell if you don't?" You offer, figuring there's no better time to take a gamble of him not being in Unit Chief mode. He doesn't look it, blushing bright red.

The decision must be easy for him because he nods within a second. "Deal."

You mimic locking your lips with a key and tossing it away. "Night, Hotch."

He nods, trying to regain some professionalism. "Goodnight, L/n."

[em-prentiss]

the way that you glow

-----

Hotch kisses Emily’s forehead and it finally dawns on Spencer. Because while he might go as far as taking her into his arms and rocking her lightly, Spencer knows there’s no platonic explanation for a kiss on the forehead.

Spencer closes his eyes and welcomes the darkness, feeling a strange happiness in his chest for his friends despite Emily’s current struggle. It makes sense, Hotch and Emily; so much so that now he sees it he’s surprised it didn’t happen sooner.

Or, 5 times a member of the team found out about hotchniss, and the one time Aaron and Emily admitted it.

-----

JJ

73 days ago

“Shit.”

“What?” Aaron asks as Emily stands in front of her side of his closet, one hand on her hip and the other held to her mouth.

She starts flipping through her clothes frantically, messing them up after Aaron had neatly folded them for her. 

“Something missing?” He stands next to her and surveys the mess. Emily groans. “I don’t have a shirt to wear.”

She chews on her lip and glares at the offending clothes, as if she could force a shirt to materialize between them. “This is all your fault,” she grumbles, “if you hadn’t torn off half of them I’d still have something to wear.”

Aaron hides his smile, well aware that it wouldn’t be appreciated at this time. He wraps his arms around her and brings her into his chest, feeling her involuntarily melt into him. “I never once heard you complaining,” he kisses her temple. “In fact, you encouraged me multiple times.”

“Not helping,” she sighs. “What do I do? I can’t stop by my apartment, I’ll be late. And my boss is a hardass,” she gives him a pointed look over her shoulder. 

Aaron laughs. “I have it on good authority you’re his favorite.”

She ignores him. “The team will obviously tell if I wore yesterday’s shirt.” Emily shakes her head at their negligence of the laundry, leaving it to pile up until she has nothing to wear. Aaron, she notices grumpily, has plenty.

Aaron looks down at the shirt she’s wearing—one of his—and an idea pops into his head. “You could wear one of mine,” he suggests.

Emily laughs and turns around in his arms. “Yeah right, like that isn’t noticeable,” she rolls her eyes and tugs at the one on her body, reaching halfway down her thighs.

“I’m serious,” Aaron insists and moves to take out a shirt of his own, a greenish blue one she always said brought out his eyes. 

“Just roll up the sleeves and tuck it in, it won’t be that bad.”

Emily considers it for a second before she grabs the shirt with a sigh. “Not like I’ve got an abundance of options.”

She does as he suggested and tucks it in, letting him help her roll the excessively long sleeves. Emily looks in the mirror and sighs, adjusting her suit jacket over the shirt. 

Aaron creeps up behind her, pristine in his own suit. “You look gorgeous.” He kisses her cheek.

Emily stifles her smile. “You’re doing the laundry when we get home.”

He can’t keep his eyes off her the whole day, the sight of her so casually in his shirt distracting him from his work. She’s left the top two buttons undone, almost indecently low because of how large the shirt is, exposing a generous amount of skin that drives him crazy. 

It seems JJ has taken the same interest to Emily’s shirt. “What?” Emily asks when she catches her staring for the third time.

JJ shakes her head, “Nothing.” But she continues staring at her, taking in her thick rolled up sleeves and the way it seems to hang baggily on her frame despite being tucked in.

The seams extend way past her shoulders and it finally dawns on JJ. She knows well and good how a man’s shirt looks on a woman’s body, and Emily had never been one to wear oversized clothes.

That explains why she’s been brushing her off lately whenever JJ brought up the idea of dating, waving her away with an eye roll and a secretive smile. Interesting, JJ thinks.

“Actually, where’d you get that shirt?” JJ smiles, a glint in her eyes that makes Emily freeze. 

Aaron’s eyes flick to her and he smirks to himself as she stutters, her mouth opening and closing as she tries to come up with an answer. 

“I’m not sure,” she stammers uncharacteristically, the realization that she was wearing Aaron’s shirt at work suddenly hitting her full in the face, making her cheeks flush. “I got it a long time ago.” She smiles tightly at JJ.

JJ arches her brow, unconvinced, but she lets it go. She eyes her friend the whole day, wondering why the shirt seemed so familiar despite its size. She’s in Penelope’s office having lunch, her eyes skipping over the pictures on her desk when she sees it. 

It’s a picture of them at Dave’s, one of her favorites; they’re gathered in the kitchen, Emily and Penelope sitting on the counter while Dave tilts the pan in his hand to the camera, his mouth open as he indulges them with his cooking secrets. Hotch stands with Morgan and Reid, his eyes on something over Dave’s shoulder. JJ clocks in the shirt he’s wearing and barely holds in a gasp.

It’s a greenish blue, rolled up to his forearms, the material hugging his shoulders perfectly. JJ could swear on her paycheck it’s the exact shirt Emily was wearing now. She suddenly remembers him wearing it at another team dinner as well, just a few weeks ago.

She hurries out of Garcia’s office, the picture fresh in her mind, and stops abruptly when she sees Hotch and Emily exiting a storage room, Emily’s shirt untucked from the back, her cheeks flushed. Hotch’s hair is fluffier than it was, his tie ever so slightly crooked. JJ’s mouth drops open when he reaches over to tuck the shirt back in and fix Emily’s collar, his lips turned up in a smile. She doesn’t think she imagines the way his fingers linger on her skin.

They walk away further down the deserted hallway as JJ stands, still in shock.

Morgan 

51 days ago

Emily hums as Aaron’s hands drift lower, the steam of the shower thick in her lungs. He kisses her neck, his fingers slipping on her skin, stopping abruptly when they hear his phone ring through the door.

Emily throws her head back on his shoulder and groans, Aaron’s sigh echoing in her ear as the phone continues ringing obnoxiously.

“One morning,” he mutters, and despite it all Emily smiles at the way it gets under his skin too. “Just one.”

She yelps when he spins her abruptly and presses her against the wall. Emily shivers against the tiles, the ringing of the phone still audible through the door, and feels her breath hitch as Aaron crowds against her.

He nips at her wet skin, his hand gently forcing her legs apart. “What about the phone?” She breathes, sliding her hand into his hair and gripping it.

“Fuck that.” His voice is a deep rumble in her ears, something she feels in her skin, right against her neck. The phone finally stops and he looks up at her, a glint in his eye. “We’re not leaving here until I’m done with you.”

Emily shivers despite the heat and smiles. “Trust me, I’m not complaining.”

****

“This fucking sucks,” Emily grumbles as she runs her comb through her hair one last time, the dripping wet strands staining her suit jacket. “I hate going into work with wet hair.” She grimaces.

Aaron checks his watch and blows out a breath. “We have to go, sweetheart.”

She turns to him impatiently. “You go, I’ll head out in a few. We can’t arrive there at the same time, anyway,” she reaches for a towel to dry her sopping hair. “Besides, I can be late. The boss can’t.” Her lips twitch despite her annoyance.

“Not too late,” he warns as he picks up his briefcase. “You won’t have time to dry it before the jet leaves,” he says, familiar with her routine.

Emily rolls her eyes, “Yeah and who’s fault is that?” She crosses her arms and gives him a pointed look.

“Hey,” Aaron says mildly. “You were a willing participant,” he pokes her stomach.

She bats away his hand, choking on her laugh. “Yeah, well, I’m regretting my cooperation.” She turns back to the mirror to clip on her earrings.

Aaron smiles and leans in to kiss her cheek, “I’ll see you there.”

“Bye,” she calls out. She holds her hair up with both her hands and grimaces at the wetness on her shoulders; she’ll need to change her jacket. Emily sighs and curses the serial killers of America, curses her job and curses her handsy boyfriend as well as her inability to say no to him all the way to work.

She’s late enough that everyone is already in the jet by the time she walks in, though her hair is still painfully wet. “Sorry I’m late,” she apologizes and plops into the empty seat next to Aaron. 

“It’s alright, Dave walked in just a minute before you did,” JJ smirks, exchanging a knowing look with Emily. 

“She didn’t need to know that,” the man in question grumbles.

Morgan looks up from his file. “Getting some much needed beauty sleep, princess?” He grins at Emily. 

“Of course,” Emily replies easily, smiling at him. “You know I like to look good for you, Derek.” She bats her lashes, her voice sickeningly sweet.

He shakes his head and laughs, about to throw another retort at her when Aaron speaks up. “Let’s review the case.”

They discuss it for a while, briefly working out victimology and throwing ideas back and forth before they lapse back into silence, nothing to do until they land.

Morgan looks up at the hushed voices of Hotch and Emily. Their heads are bent together as they look down at their files, their bodies unusually close. The distance doesn’t seem to bother either of them, he notices, despite Hotch’s obvious dislike for unnecessary physical touch. Morgan’s gaze travels up from their connected elbows to the soft smile on Emily’s face and the slight indent of a dimple in Hotch’s cheek—clearly no longer discussing the case—eventually going to rest on their hair, catching the light.

Morgan pauses at this. Emily’s hair is clearly wet, curling on her shoulders and slightly longer than it usually is. He looks back at Hotch, who’s hair is also damp, the strands glossy and dark, curling around his ears.

He suddenly sits upright and surveys them more closely. Both of them coming in with their hair the same level of wet, talking to each other in hushed tones, their elbows touching and Hotch smiling? In all his years at the BAU Morgan has never seen Hotch crack a smile, except with Haley or Rossi. He didn’t even know the man had a goddamn dimple before today. Could they be..?

But they came in separately, he reminds himself. And much as he wanted to believe his own theory, it wasn’t unusual at all for two people to shower before work. He has to find some way to get them to slip. Maybe if he could get them drun—

“Morgan.”

His gaze snaps up to his boss, who’s looking at him curiously, along with the rest of the team. Morgan gets the sense that he’d been talking for a while. He clears his throat, “Yes?”

“You and Prentiss visit the crime scene, I’ll interview the parents and the rest of you work on victimology and geo profiles.”

It’s drafty at the crime scene, the wind throwing Emily’s cold hair against her neck and making her shiver. Morgan stands close enough to smell her strawberry shampoo, the wind blowing her hair practically into his own face.

“Didn’t take you for a strawberry kind of girl, princess,” he teases as they’re walking away, the wind sending another gust of strawberry scented hair towards him.

“Well excuse me for not wanting to smell like cedar and sandalwood,” she drawls as she climbs into the car. “I get enough of that from you.” She flashes him a smile.

“Hey, hold on, I’ve always wanted to know this. Do you use shampoo or do you—”

“Alright, very funny,” he deadpans as he pulls out of his parking spot. Emily laughs and turns to look at him. “Well do you? It’s a very valid question.” She reasons.

“Yes,” he glares at her, regretting bringing up the topic to begin with.

Emily nods solemnly. He expects another question but she stays quiet and he basks in it. Unfortunately she doesn’t stay that way for long. “How about conditioner?”

Morgan laughs despite himself. “Fuck you, Prentiss,” he says easily, his smile widening when she chuckles. “How about you go bald yourself and get all the answers you’re looking for?”

“No, that won’t work. I need to maintain my luscious mane, otherwise how else would I get all the ladies and gents?” She winks at him.

Morgan shakes his head, another laugh escaping him as Emily looks down at her phone, texting someone and smiling. He eyes her curiously before turning his gaze back to the road.

He doesn’t expect it, but he accidentally proves his theory later that day. 

“It was an organized crime scene,” he says when they get back to the precinct. “No prints, no bullet or casing. Speaks to an experienced unsub.” He tells Hotch, who nods. 

He moves past Morgan to get to the whiteboard, saying something as he taps the pictures on it. Morgan isn’t listening. He’s rooted to his spot in surprise, the faint scent of strawberries lingering after Hotch.

His mouth drops open. No damn way. He searches for Emily, thinking he somehow may have confused them, but she’s standing on the other side of the room, arms crossed as she looks over Reid’s shoulder.

Morgan almost bursts out laughing at the thought of his stony, stoic Unit Chief washing his hair with strawberry shampoo. Emily must have him whipped if she’s got him using strawberry shampoo.

“Morgan?” Hotch’s voice snaps him out of it. His brows are furrowed in annoyance at his lack of attention for the second time in as many hours. “You said there was no sign of the bullet or the casing, right?”

“Right,” Morgan nods, biting the inside of his cheek to hold in his laugh. He catches a whiff of it again when he has to lean over Hotch’s shoulder to grab a file from the desk in front of him. Morgan grins. Stupid idiots. The least Emily could do was dry her goddamn hair.

Reid

37 days ago

If there’s one thing Reid is good at, it’s finding patterns. Like how Garcia comes out of her office every two hours to pour herself a coffee, how JJ brings chocolate chip cookies with her on Fridays. And how Emily tenses whenever there’s turbulence on the plane, how Hotch’s eyes flick to her periodically when she does.

He brushes it off the first time it happens on a rocky flight to Chicago. He’s already memorized the case file in his hand so he tips his head back and rests it on the seat, the tremors of the plane vibrating through his bones.

In his line of sight is Emily, her lip between her teeth and her eyes fixed on something in her lap. Hotch, sitting next to her, looks up at the sound of her shaky breath when the plane rocks.

He frowns at her lap, something hidden there by the table, blocking Spencer’s view. “Hey, stop that,” he whispers. Spencer sees Hotch’s hand move into her lap—awfully comfortable, he notices.

Emily stills. “Sorry,” she says quietly and he shakes his head, brushing it off. “Try to get some sleep,” he tells her. 

She scoffs at that, the sound turning into a choked yelp when the plane dips. She clutches Aaron’s hand tightly, a substitute for her own cuticles, and feels her body go tense.

“I fucking hate my job,” she grumbles shakily. 

“I know.” Aaron soothes, squeezing her hand back and wrapping his fingers tightly around her own. 

His hand stays there in hers, either unaware or uncaring of Spencer’s gaze right across from them. Aaron doubts he’ll be able to tell anyway. Morgan has his eyes closed and JJ is spread out on the couch, her back to them.

He hates that he can’t do more for Emily, but for now he has nothing to offer but this, and she takes it gratefully, though it doesn’t do much to soothe her nerves.

As is often said, twice is a coincidence. Which is what Spencer considers it when Hotch places a mug of tea in front of Emily minutes after the jet starts shaking. She’s sitting in the lone chair and Spencer’s on the couch, giving him a perfect view of the two of them.

He buries his head in his book when Hotch walks past him and back into his seat, digging into his go bag as Spencer pretends to read. He raises the book and peeks over it, for some reason drawn to his coworkers interactions.

Hotch walks back to Emily, a blanket thrown over his arm and something held tightly in his fist.

Spencer watches as his boss wraps the blanket around Emily, his touch gentle even from afar. She smiles up at him and accepts the pill he hands her, washing it down with the tea. 

He squeezes her shoulder before settling back into his seat next to Morgan, unaware of Spencer looking at him curiously.

He knows that Emily is closer to Hotch than most of them, the two of them pairing together on cases and riding in the SUVs more often with each other than with other members of the team. But this is still unusual, Spencer muses to himself. Hotch cares about them, yes, but he wouldn’t go as far as holding one of their hands or wrapping a blanket around their shoulders to ease their anxiety. Emily seems to be an exception. Spencer files this information away for later, telling himself it’s just a coincidence.

But three times, that’s a pattern.

He doesn’t even mean to catch them this time—not that he ever did. He’s woken from his light sleep by a particularly shaky air bump, the plane trembling as he opens his eyes blearily. He can tell it’s late, the lights dimmed and Dave’s snores coming from right behind him.

Spencer shivers and adjusts the blanket around himself, stretching his body until his feet hit the armrest of the couch. He’s about to close his eyes when he sees movement across from him.

Emily is closest to him, letting out a quiet whimper he barely hears over the loud roar of the plane. Her hand is clenched tightly in a fist at her side, her chest heaving as she takes in deep breaths. 

Hotch sets down the pen that was in his hands and brings her into his chest with no hesitation. His chin rests on her head as he tucks her into him and holds her tightly, his large hands rubbing up and down her back.

His mouth moves as he holds her close, murmuring words of reassurance Spencer can’t hear from this distance. He can see Emily holding on to him desperately, her back shuddering with each heaving breath she takes, the stuttering of her body similar to the way the jet shakes.

Hotch kisses Emily’s forehead and it finally dawns on Spencer. Because while he might go as far as taking her into his arms and rocking her lightly, Spencer knows there’s no platonic explanation for a kiss on the forehead.

Spencer closes his eyes and welcomes the darkness, feeling a strange happiness in his chest for his friends despite Emily’s current struggle. It makes sense, Hotch and Emily; so much so that now he sees it he’s surprised it didn’t happen sooner.

“Breathe, sweetheart.”

It’s the last thing he hears before he falls back into tumultuous sleep.

Rossi 

1 day ago

Rossi would claim he knew of their relationship ages ago if you ask him, but there’s one particular scene that stands out in his head.

With the unsub in custody, Dave, Aaron, and Emily were left at the precinct, packing up their boxes and taking down the countless maps Reid had used.

Emily stifles the urge to roll her eyes when officer Evans approaches them—or more specifically, approaches Aaron.

“Need any help here?” She asks when they’re practically done, only a handful of files left to pack. After we finished? Emily holds in her scoff. 

“No thanks, we’re good,” Emily gives her a fake smile, gritting her teeth when the officer gives her a once over glance before returning to Aaron.

“I just wanted to let you know how much we appreciate you coming down here, Agent Hotchner,” Evans places her hand on his arm, her nails digging into his skin through his jacket.

“We’re glad we could help.” Aaron smiles at her tightly, acutely aware of her hand on his arm and a conversation he’d had with Emily last night.

“She’s flirting with you!” Emily insists as she aggressively rubs off her makeup. 

“She’s not,” Aaron says dismissively, his head buried in a file he’s memorized a thousand times over.

“Can I get you a coffee, Agent Hotchner? Please call me Katie. Are your rooms comfortable?” Emily mimics in a high pitched tone, disdain dripping from her words. 

“And what the hell did she mean by that, anyway?” She spits out. “Was she going to offer us her own room? I’ll bet she would’ve been all too happy to give it to you,” she grumbles, throwing her dirty cotton pad into the trash.

Aaron closes the file and gets up from the bed, cautiously moving toward Emily as if she was going to attack him too. He hides his smile when she glares at him and pulls her fuming, heated body into his.

“Okay, she’s flirting with me,” he agrees, cupping her face and rubbing his thumbs over her flushed cheeks. “So what?”

Her mouth furiously drops open and he places both of his thumbs on her lips to keep her quiet. “I mean it doesn’t matter. She can flirt with me till tomorrow and I’ll still only have eyes for you, Em.”

Emily crosses her arms to stop herself from touching him, not wanting to give in to his sappy words too soon. “Go on,” she narrows her eyes.

Aaron laughs and kisses her forehead. “I love you, sweetheart. I don’t see anyone else. I never have and I never will, okay?”

She melts under his touch when he kisses her, his lips fierce against hers in an attempt to show her just how much she means to him. And it’s not like she doesn’t know already—God, she does. It frustrates her that she can’t do anything about it, that she just has to sit and watch as this random woman touched him every time she addressed him, batted her lashes and spoke to him with an overly sweet tone that she dropped whenever she talked to anyone else.

“You don’t ever have to worry about anyone else,” he tucks her hair behind her ear gently. 

Emily sighs against his lips. “I know that, Aaron. It’s just not fair that she gets to touch you like that and I don’t.”

He holds his breath, finally hearing her admit to something he’d been thinking about for weeks. “How about we tell the team about us?” He asks, his heart racing in his chest, “that way we won’t have to hide it anymore.”

She immediately beams at him, all her anger gone as she clutches his shirt in her fists. “Really?”

Aaron smiles, the tightness in his chest easing. “Of course, Em,” he kisses her forehead. “You’re it for me, you know that. They’ll have to know at some point.”

“When this case is over?” She asks hopefully, her eyes bright. “When this case is over,” Aaron nods.

“I’d like to thank you personally, if you’d let me,” officer Evans inches closer and smiles at Aaron, taking no note of the other two agents in the room with them. “Maybe over coffee?”

Emily sees red. She breathes in deeply, placing the last of the files in a box and slamming the lid on it. Dave startles away from her, giving her a confused look she doesn’t notice. She sees Aaron backing away, removing his arm from Evans’ grip, and she smiles smugly despite her anger.

“Here.” Emily shoves the box into her hands, forcing her to break free from Aaron. “These are your copies of the case files as well as our notes. Maybe you could take a look at those next time you need help, hmm?” She smiles sweetly, her eyes deadly blank.

Evans is staring at her in shock, her mouth dropped open like a fish. “Uh—” she stammers, her cheeks flushing.

Emily picks up her jacket and turns to Aaron. “I’ll see you on the jet, Aaron.”

Aaron smirks and stuffs his hands in his pockets. “See you there, Emily.”

He watches her go and stifles a laugh at the bewildered look on Evans’ face. Aaron turns to Dave. “Can you handle the rest of these boxes? I have to talk to Detective Moore.”

“Sure,” Dave agrees. 

Aaron leaves the room and makes his way to the detective’s office, smiling when he sees Emily a few paces in front of him. He rushes past her, making sure his palm ghosts over her lower back as he walks by and into the detective’s office.

He hears her light laugh as he enters the office and smiles.

Finally, Dave thinks as he eyes the interaction. He picks up the boxes and heads out too. “Nice working with you,” he calls out cheerfully to officer Evans, who’s still standing there, hands clutched around the box.

Penelope 

0 days ago

He blows it before they get a chance to tell the team. 

Aaron groans into Emily’s neck when the phone rings obnoxiously. He’s bone tired, the case they just came back from last night exhausting him. Emily is knocked out, not even stirring at the loud ringing of the phone.

He turns around and snatches the phone grumpily from the nightstand. This better be real fucking good. “Hotchner.” He says gruffly, his voice rough with sleep.

He’s met by silence. “Hello?” Aaron calls out, throwing a hand over his eyes to block the sun. Why hadn’t they closed the blinds last night?

“Um, sir, why are you answering Emily’s phone?” 

His eyes fly open. Aaron takes the phone away from his ear and looks at the contact, ‘Penelope’ written on the screen with a pink heart next to it. He looks back at the nightstand and sees his own phone lying there. Aaron vaguely remembers Emily throwing down her phone on his nightstand and climbing over him to get to her side of the bed, too tired to walk all the way around. “Fucking shit.”

“Uh—” he stammers, looking next to him at Emily’s limp body, both her arms hugging her pillow as she sleeps soundly, her hair spilling down her back. “Emily had some trouble with her faucet, she needed me to come fix it.” He says, not even knowing what the hell just came out of his mouth.

“Trouble with her faucet?” Penelope questions. “Why would she call you, then? And why would you answer her phone?”

He can almost hear the click in her mind when she figures it out, and he most definitely hears it.

“Oh my god!” She shrieks in his ear. Aaron pulls the phone away from his ear and groans, almost feeling his eardrum burst. A loud stream of screams and incoherent words bursts from the phone and into the air. Emily jumps upright, her hair a wild mess, and looks at him frantically.

“What the hell is that?” She demands roughly, pressing her hand to her racing heart. Penelope is still yelling into the air, her words barely understandable from the way they slur together.

Aaron sighs. “I blew our cover.”

Emily takes the phone from him and ends the call, throwing it over the bed and hearing it thump on the floor. Aaron chuckles as she slumps into his chest, burying her face in his neck.

“You couldn’t wait till later today?” She yawns and snuggles deeper into him. Aaron adjusts the blanket back over them. “You know me, I can’t wait to show you off,” he slurs, already falling back asleep.

“Sap,” Emily mumbles, her eyes drifting shut too. 

+1 (the one where they tell the team)

0 days ago

A minute later the alarm rings and they both groan.

Emily shuts it off with a grunt and falls back into Aaron. “You know, since we’re telling them today, we can be late,” she suggests, linking their fingers together. “Really cement the idea of us being a couple and all.”

Aaron hums. “I like the way you think.”

But in the end he drags her up at the ring of the next alarm, forcing her sleepy body into the shower while she curses at him.

He makes up for it by buying her a coffee on the way to work, effectively making them late and granting them their grand entrance into the BAU.

No one pays them any mind as they enter the bullpen, so Emily wraps an arm around Aaron and stuffs her hand into his pocket. 

“Not very subtle, are you?” He smiles down at her.

Emily shrugs, her eyes sparkling. “I have no reason to be.”

They see the team already gathered in the conference room, Penelope visible next to the TV and flailing her arms widely. “I'm guessing she beat us to it,” Aaron deadpans.

Emily laughs, “Yeah, and how much do you think they’ll believe her? Let’s go prove it ourselves,” she winks at him.

The team’s voices spill out into the catwalk, the high pitch of Penelope’s excited voice and the low timbre of Morgan’s chuckle audible before they get to the open door. “Don’t tell me you just found out, baby girl.”

Emily and Aaron exchange a look at that. She removes her hand from his pocket and bursts into the room, making everyone’s gazes snap to her.

“Well hello,” Dave smiles smugly.

“What do you mean by that?” Emily demands, pointing her finger at Morgan. “Did you know too?”

She feels Aaron come stand beside her, much closer than he usually would.

Morgan grins at them. “I see you dried your hair today.” He comments. Emily touches her dry hair and looks to Aaron in confusion. He shrugs, equally bewildered. “We all knew, Emily.”

“How?” She looks at the team, a spluttered laugh escaping her. “Even Reid?” She arches her brow at the doctor, who protests loudly. 

“Hey! What’s that supposed to mean?”

JJ pats his shoulder, “Today we all found out that we knew, and Pen was the last to join the group,” she says. “Though Rossi is a close second, no matter what he tells you.” She smiles wryly.

Aaron speaks up. “Well, we wanted to tell you today but since—”

“Are you guys gonna get married?” Penelope interrupts. Aaron’s mouth snaps closed. Their friends watch in astonishment as both Emily and Aaron are reduced to a blushing mess, their cheeks tinting pink as Emily stammers.

“Not relevant.” She finally says, glaring at Penelope. 

“I’ll try to convince her,” Aaron clears his throat, the tips of his ears pink. Emily’s head snaps to his, her hair whipping into her face. Penelope and JJ’s squeals are muffled in her ears.

“You don’t need to convince me,” she whispers, a soft smile pulling on her lips, her dimple deep in her cheek. Aaron grabs her hand and kisses her forehead, not quite ready yet to kiss her properly in front of everyone, but he needs to expel the burning love in his chest in some way.

Emily beams at him and lets go of his hand to wrap it around his waist, tucking herself into his side. Morgan rolls his eyes at them and Emily points at him threateningly. “Careful there Morgan, I’m under the boss’s protection now.”

“You were under the boss’s protection a long time ago bella, but the two of you only noticed it now.” Dave says. “How did you two get together, anyway?”

“None of your business,” Emily says breezily and breaks free from Aaron to sit down at the table, smiling when he sits down next to her and places his palm on her thigh, hidden from view.

“That’s a story for another day,” Aaron says. “You all still have to finish your reports from yesterday’s case, I’ll be expecting them by the end of the day.” He looks at them sternly, trying to force the smirks off their faces.

“Except for Emily,” Morgan scrunches his face in annoyance and breathes out a long tortured sigh.

Emily laughs and pinches his cheek, “Aw, you jealous, Morgan? Maybe if you—”

“Especially Emily.” Aaron interrupts, causing both her and Morgan’s heads to snap to him in surprise.

“What?” Emily exclaims indignantly. “Aaron!”

“I’ll need yours by the afternoon, so I think it’s best if you come work in my office,” he smirks slightly. “Less distractions over there.”

Emily’s frown instantly turns to a knowing smile. “Ah. Of course,” she agrees. “Less distractions.” She bites her lip and tucks her hair behind her ear, winking at him not so subtly.

JJ laughs, the sound drowning out Penelope’s squeal and Morgan’s sigh.

“For fuck’s sake.”

[companionjones]

Talk of Weddings

Pairings: Spencer Reid x Reader, Platonic!William LaMontagne Jr. x Reader, Slight!Hotchniss

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Summary: You and Will talk a bit at a wedding.

Warnings: None!

*******

    “Look at Hotch and Emily,” William LaMontagne Jr. referenced the two FBI agents moving in sync on the dance floor. “Them two suckers are so in love and they don’t even know it.”

    Playfully, you pushed his shoulder. “Stop giving them crap. I think they’re cute together.”

    “Don’t worry, so do I,” Will assured, “Who knows? We could be attending another one of these events for them some time soon.”

    “You think so?” you asked, excited. “What do you think that wedding’s going to be like?”

    Will chuckled to himself. “Surely, not as beautiful as this one. You did a great job, Y/n. It was a wonderful ceremony.”

    “Thank you so much,” you smiled at him. You looked at your husband, who was chatting to Derek with a big grin on his face. “I just wanted him to be happy. As long as Spencer’s happy, so am I.”

    “I know the feeling. I feel it everyday with JJ.”

    You sat back in your chair as your grin practically took over your face. “Oh my god. To be in the same boat as JJ and Will. That’s like having something in common with Romeo and Juliet.”

    Will joked, “That better not mean you expect all of us to off ourselves.”

    You lightly pushed Will’s knee with your foot. “Of course no, you weirdo.”

    “I hope I’m not interrupting anything.” Spencer fake cringed as he approached you and Will.

    Will put his hands up in surrender. “Hey, you have first dibs on this one, friend.”

    Spencer faked alarm. “That’s a barbaric way of saying things.” He leaned down to kiss you.

    “Stop joking, you two,” you scolded with no real malice.

    Spencer helped you to your feet. “May I have this dance?” he asked with a bow.

    “Of course,” you mimicked his dramatics.

    “Speaking of, I have to go find my own wife. See if she’s up for dancing herself.” Will went off to find JJ.

    Spencer smiled as he spun you, “Come on, let’s go upstage Hotch and Emily on the dance floor. This is our wedding. They’re not allowed to be the cutest couple here.”

    Your eyes lit up. “I know right?” You laughed as your husband lead you out to the dance floor.

*******

Author’s Note: Thank you for reading. Fill up that heart and reblog if you liked it. I would also really appreciate a comment, if you have the time. If you would like to read more, check out my masterlist. Have a nice day, night, or whatever time it is for you! <3 <3 <3

[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. :)

[ravensinthedaylight]

Masterlist

AO3: Ravensinthedaylight Requests: Open Taglists

I do not write :

Smut in any way, shape or form

Male/GN reader

Hateful material (homophobia, racism, ableism, body shaming, etc.)

Natasha Romanoff (platonic/parent only)

Ready or not Here I Come - Your mama, Natasha can’t find you during a game of hide and seek and gets worried

.-.-.

Wanda Maximoff (platonic/parent only)

Whatever Means Necessary - When Wanda arrives back after being snapped, she discovers that you, her daughter, sacrificed yourself in order to obtain the soul stone so that your mother’s girlfriend, Natasha, wouldn’t have to. Wanda’s devastated and lost, and so is Nat. A few months after her and Natasha call it quits and Wanda takes a trip to Westview, the small town she had planned on moving to with your eleven-year-old self when she retired. Wanda just wants you back, she’s willing to do whatever is necessary. 

.-.-.

Wandanat (platonic/parent only)

Your Safe Embrace - Y/N is a child newly rescued from a HYDRA base who also happens to be the child of Natasha Romanoff and the adopted child of Wanda Maximoff. The two have decided to give the seven year old time to get used to her surroundings before coddling her. But Y/N just wants to be held.

Rather You Guys Anyway - Your friends ditch you to go and watch a movie while you’re at the mall, luckily your Mama’s have no problem picking you up.

.-.-.

Blackhill (platonic/parent only)

Appendicitis - Nat and Maria are gone on a mission leaving you with Wanda and Vision and the twins in Westview, the only problem is the constant pain in your tummy, at first you thought it was just a bug, but it only gets worse

Blow out the Candles - Maria, your mama’s girlfriend, doesn’t come to your birthday party due to work, the day after you hear a conversation between her and your mama that you don’t fully understand. Two days later you receive and envelope as your birthday present. And you couldn’t be happier.

.-.-.

Winterwidow (platonic/parent only)

The Endgame - When Thanos snapped, you lost everything.

The Aftermath - The loss of a child is something no parent should ever have to go through. Unfortunately, Bucky and Natasha had to go through it twice in both of their lifetime. Sequel to ‘The Endgame’

.-.-.

Peter Parker (platonic only)

coming soon

Johanna Mason (platonic/sister only)

coming soon

.-.-.

Katniss Everdeen (platonic/romantic)

coming soon

.-.-.

Finnick Odair (romantic only)

coming soon

Emily Prentiss (parent only)

Ruby - When Emily leaves for a case she leaves you with your godparents. They both decide to take you to the movies, but that night something terrible happens. The next day Emily Prentiss and the team sit, listening to the case file going over the facts of your godparents murder and your own kidnapping.

.-.-.

Hotchniss (parent only)

coming soon

Daenerys Targaryen (platonic/parent only)

City of Ash -  You struggle to look at your mother, Daenerys, after the burning of King's Landing.

.-.-.

Margaery Tyrell (platonic only)

coming soon

Thomas (romantic only)

coming soon

Klaus Mikaeleson (romantic only)

coming soon

.-.-.

Nora Hildegard (platonic/sister only)

coming soon

Addison Montgomery (parental only)

coming soon

[eyesontheskyline]

omg i want to debate a hotchniss scene with you!!! from the season 7 finale

now i know that the whole jj’s wedding thing with hotch and emily talking about her tell etc etc is seen as the ultimate hotchniss flirty scene and i love it but that’s not what kills me in that episode, it’s the dance scene for me. It makes me go absolutely feral and its one of the scenes where im once again questioning who the hell directed that and why- it’s so intimate to me, the closeness, the almost cheek to cheek, him shifting his face towards her and her little smile- like who in their right mind directed that with the thought “aw yeah that’s how friends dance” like sjsnsnsnks. While a dance like that would probably be normal with the rest of the team, the fact that hotch doesnt usually have such a touchy relationship with anyone is what makes me lose my mind, its such an unusual moment for them i feel like WHICH IS EXACTLY WHY ITS DIFFERENT AND IT MEANS MUCH MORE!! Anyway so yeah, idk if im just insane so i was wondering what your take was on that, considering that your fic is based on season 7

I can't think of a single coherent thing to add to this because I agree entirely.

I'm so curious what he said to her in that moment. Like, what TG actually said, but mostly all the billions of options for what Hotch could've said to Emily.

I feel like this is the scene where you can really see what they could've been if he wasn't her boss. Like, it's a little weird with Beth there, but it almost kind of acknowledges that there is something there and they were just never going to go there with her on his team, and now she's leaving the country and it's too late. I don't think they look like they're making any effort at being two platonic coworkers sharing a friendly dance.

The two of them interest me so much in S7 (obviously lol). Like in S4-5 they're together basically all the time, and then in S6 she's with Morgan all the time, and in S7 they're switching it up again but she spends a lot of time with Rossi and Reid. In canon, on screen, they're less close than they have been before, even though they now have this additional thing in common, on top of all the things they already had in common that made them such a great pair before.

There are so many potential justifications for it, both on an in-universe and meta level, but it's just super interesting to me that they have this kind of distance between them, and then when they dance at the end, both knowing on some level it's a goodbye, it's Like That.

[introverted-author]

elle and emily for the ask game! :)

I've already done Elle in a previous post but I'll do Emily here!!

A song that reminds me of them: I am not a woman, I'm a god by Halsey

OTP: JEMILY!!!!

NOTP: again being controversial but Hotchniss. I really don't see it and I am a strong believer in lesbian Emily Prentiss.

Favourite platonic relationships: I love Emily and Morgan and also really love the father-daughter relationship Rossi and her have going on.

A head canon popular in fandom I disagree with: sometimes I see people saying that Emily did love Doyle. I will never agree with this. She never fell for him, and she hated the part she had to play.

The position they sleep in: just a tangle of limbs twisted in sheets ahaha

A crossover au I'd love to see them in: like with Elle, I would love to see Emily in B99 with Rosa or Amy. I think they'd get along really well!!

My favourite outfit they've ever worn: RED. anything red. But in particular that one red tank top from S2 has me in a chokehold!!

[multifandomangel]

wait i gotta know since youre watching cm,, opinions on jemily?? hotchniss?? literally any ship (also i hate tumblr for not being able to send asks from sideblogs but its faybellesbeauty)

heyyyyyy okay okay here's my thoughts + feelings about ships

as i've already been very loud about, i'm a bi jj truther until the end of time (at first it was a projection but then that little moment between her and hotch happened where she was talking about how maybe the unsub of that episode was projecting onto his victims because he saw them being out and happy, and that just seemed very emotionally charged so that basically made it canon in my head) so i don't particularly love her with will, but i don't have any reason to actually hate him (as of season 6 anyways)

the only ship that i really care for is jemily, mainly because YES WLW RELATIONSHIPS!!!! but also because i love their chemistry and i think their characters would be so perfect in love: but i also feel like emily just has an insanely flirty personality so i'm not entirely sure

though the way she rolls her eyes whenever jj talks about her husband has not gone unnoticed

& i know this kind of deviates from your question entirely, but i think one of my favorite things about this show is the fact that everyone on the team loves each other so much, and if there's one thing i'm a sucker for, it's strong platonic love, so at the end of the day, even if none of them end up together, as long as they still love each other like a big ole family, i'm content

[missmitchieg]

Wait... Posting my fics on ao3 requires giving titles to my fics...

[breannacasey]

Current Writing Projects

Just wanted to make a post in case it interests anyone to know what I've been working on. So first there's @flufftober Spring Edition. I am trying to do all different pairings and an even distribution between f/f, m/m and m/f, platonic or romantic. I am open to suggestions for the unassigned prompts:

New Beginnings: Dainsley

Banter, Joking, Fun: Hotchniss

Spring Cleaning: Brike.

“Let me take care of you.”: Winterdevil

Honey & Bees: Marina

Sharing a Blanket: Jemmy

Giving someone a Present: Eliot Spencer/Malcolm Bright

Breakfast in Bed: Supercorp

Daisies: Madney

Iced Beverage: Neal Caffrey/Eliot Spencer

Enjoying the Fresh Air: Temperance Brennan/Angela Montenegro

Claiming, Clingy, Possessive: Rory/Paris

“It’s still too cold.” - “No, it’s not.”: Tarlos

Putting down Roots: Pardison

And another project I'm working on, and why there's no Buddie on the above list, is an Ultimate World Cruise AU for Buddie, which I am writing as I follow the cruise on tiktok so it is going to take 9 months to write.

[darcyfangirlsfrequently]

14, 16, 18.

*cracks knuckles* Let's go

14. that one thing you see in fics all the time

People having Morgan act like a dick to Penelope in Garvez fics. It is fucking EVERYWHERE and I am sick of it. Like I even read a fic once where he used to sleep with her just to "scratch the itch" even when he was dating people? Even when he was dating Savannah? He even tried to when he was MARRIED to Savannah??? It's a lot more in older fics, but still. Mis-characterization of Morgan, especially in Garvez fics, makes me so mad. ALSO, speaking of Morgan, people having him call Reid "kid" in Moreid fics. Even when they're dating. Even when they're sleeping together (like in the middle of actively doing it). It needs to STOP.

16. you can't understand why so many people like this thing

Oh lord people are going to come for me for this. But... what is so great about Hotch. Why are you all attracted to him. What is happening here. Why do you ship him with everything that breathes. He does not belong with anyone in the BAU. Emily especially, I'm sorry, I despise Hotchniss. (Also Jemily but that's another rant and unrelated to me not understanding the fascination with Hotch.)

18. it's absolutely criminal that the fandom has been sleeping on...

Penemily. Either platonic or romantic, y'all are SLEEPING on this. I love them.

(ask me controversial fandom questions and get controversial answers)