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sequinsmile-x · 7 hours

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Quality Time

She missed her husband, even though he was right there with her.

Part of the Love Languages series

-x-

Hi besties,

This is just...pure fluff really because that is all my brain was capable of after a very busy few days at work.

This is just these two idiots being idiots for each other.

I really hope you like it, as always please let me know what you think <3

-x-

Words: 3.2k

Warnings: pregnancy

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

It’s late when he gets home.

He feels the tension in his shoulders start to ease the moment he steps over the threshold into the house, the sense of home washing over him as he closes the door behind him, locking out anything other than his family on the other side.

He pauses as he turns from the door when he hears the low hum of the television. He checks his watch and frowns when he realises just how late it is, surprised that anyone is still awake. He walks towards the living room, a purpose in his step, and as he gets closer he realises it’s one of his wife’s favourite reality TV shows, something she’d sworn him to secrecy over when they first started dating. He half expects to find Emily asleep on the couch, slumped over with her hand pressed against her stomach after she’d lost the battle against sleep to stay up for him, but instead when he walks in she’d wide awake, her focus torn from the TV as he enters the room.

“Hi honey,” she says, sitting up a little straighter when he walks over, one of her hands on her baby bump as she kisses him before he joins her on the couch, slipping under her legs as she raises them just enough for him to sit, “You made good time.”

“Traffic wasn’t bad,” he replies, squeezing her foot, smiling softly when she groans in pleasure, “You didn’t have to wait up.”

She shrugs like it’s nothing, like she wasn’t just shy of 8 months pregnant and constantly exhausted, “It’s okay, I wanted to see you.”

He frowns, seeds of concern planting deep in his chest, her tone of voice, the way she was holding herself tightly, both of her hands on her bump as she absentmindedly drew patterns on it.

“You’re tired. I wouldn’t have minded if you’d just gone to bed, I’ll be here in the morning anyway.”

She scoffs, unable to stop herself, hormones, exhaustion and irritation she knows he doesn’t deserve swirling in her gut, “Yeah, if you didn’t get called away for a case.”

His concern for her immediately gets worse, the flowers of it taking up all the space in his chest, burning against his lungs as she tries to figure out what is wrong. She’d been okay when they spoke earlier, relieved even when he told her that they were about to fly home. It’s a flash of his past life, a momentary collision of his marriage to Haley forcing its way into his marriage to Emily.

She’d never had an issue with his job, with their job, and she understood the unpredictable nature of it. Things had been different lately since she’d stopped going on cases with the team, he knew that, and he knew she missed being a part of it.

“Sweetheart, what’s wrong?”

She blows out a breath, embarrassment at her outburst colouring her cheeks, and she shakes her head, “Nothing. Sorry, I think I’m just hormonal,” she flashes a tight smile at him, “Your kid is ruining me.”

He squeezes her foot again to get her attention after her failed attempt to deflect, his face nothing but kind as he looks expectantly at her, their promise to never lie to each other on the tip of his tongue, “Em…”

She looks down at her bump and clenches her teeth, desperately trying to stave off the tears she can feel pressing at the back of her eyes. Pregnancy had left her on a razor's edge, everything sharp and making her prone to breaking down at the tiniest thing. It was driving her crazy, irritation at herself that only ever seemed to make things worse, her head swimming with emotion she was trying and failing to push down.

“I…” she says, clearing her throat when her voice wavers, shaking her head at herself as she chuckles humourlessly, removing a hand from her bump to wipe tears from her cheek, “I just miss you,” she says, wiping away another tear. She shrugs as she avoids eye contact with him, embarrassed in a way she doesn’t understand, her love for him overwhelming even after all this time. “That’s all.”

“Em,” he says softly, moving closer to place a hand on her knee, squeezing gently as she looks up at him, his smile gentle as their eyes meet, “I’m right here.”

She blows out a breath and rubs her hand over her belly as she feels the baby move, a constant reminder these days that she isn’t alone. She’d spent so much of her life chasing something exactly like this - a family to call her own. She had Aaron and Jack and the baby and she always would.

She’d never be alone again.

“I know. I think it’s because you’re going on cases and I’m not. I miss spending time just the two of us - which we never got a whole lot of anyway,” she smiles, an edge of sadness mixed in with the happiness as she reaches for his hand and places it on her stomach where the baby is kicking, “And we’re about to have even less of it.”

She’d stopped going on cases earlier than she’d originally intended. Pregnancy had been much harder on her than she’d anticipated, the nausea in the first trimester giving way almost immediately to exhaustion when it faded away. She’d wanted to carry on, content to sit in precincts and work on victimology because it made her feel useful, like she was still contributing to the team, but Aaron and her doctor convinced her it was time to stay home just as she turned 6 months pregnant. She hated that they were right, that she felt better for it, and she mostly hated that it meant she saw less of her husband than she was used to.

Since the start of their relationship, they’d spent practically all of their time together. It was clear from their first date that they were it for each other, a type of pull she knew she’d never felt before, her love for him overwhelming from even before their first kiss. They spent all their spare time together, she slept at his most nights - content to hang out with him and Jack until the little boy went to bed and then they’d get some time alone. Despite initially saying they wouldn’t, they snuck into each other’s rooms on cases before they told the team about their relationship. They were both aware that they slept better with the other there, a type of peace neither of them thought they’d ever experience again.

She missed him. Their bed felt bare without him, their choice of buying a super king even though they snuggled, more than half the bed empty even with them both in it, feeling all the more absurd when it was just her and her pregnancy pillow in it. Occasionally Jack would sneak in and join her, his small hands on her face as he woke her to tell her he’d had a bad dream. She’d feel guilty by feeling relieved when she had him there with her, the little boy she loved as her own pressed up against her whilst her baby shifted under her skin.

Aaron smiles softly at her, rubbing his hand on her bump for a moment longer before he links their fingers together and lifts their joint hands to his mouth. He presses a delicate kiss to her knuckles and it gets her attention, her eyes meet his again, and he tucks some of her hair behind her ear.

“Sweetheart,” he says softly, “I miss you too.”

Even though it was almost six weeks since she stopped going away on cases he still found himself looking for her, his eyes flitting around a room she wasn’t in to look for her reassurance, for the love she always freely gave him. He missed having her there, her smile sometimes the only good thing that would happen to him on a hard day at work. He found it difficult to sleep in hotel beds that she wasn’t in with him, her weight against his chest, her breath skipping across his neck as she slept, both as essential to him for a good night's sleep as a dark room and a decent mattress.

She was his safety net. His port in a storm. And whilst he was excited for this next step in their life, close to desperate sometimes to meet their baby, to see the face he’d imagined for months, he knew he’d miss this stage.

She smiles sadly at him and stamps a kiss against his lips before she rests her head on his shoulder, “Sorry I kind of ruined the mood the moment you got home.”

“You could never ruin the mood,” he assures her, turning his head to kiss her temple. He tugs her in closer, a tightness in his chest that had been there for days easing now she was in his arms, and he feels an idea start to form, a smile spreading across his face as he pulls back to look at her, “Why don’t we go somewhere? Just the two of us.”

She hums, her eyebrows knitting together as she looks him up and down, “What? Like a babymoon?”

He frowns, tilting his head as their eyes meet, confusion painted across his face in a way that she finds nothing short of adorable, “What the hell is a babymoon?”

She chuckles and runs her fingers through his hair, her teeth sinking into her lower lip as she tries to tamper down her amusement, “It’s a trip you go on before the baby comes. Pen was telling me about them.”

He smiles and nods, “Then yes, exactly like a babymoon,” he says, not missing how her smile gets wider as he says it, “We could go to Virginia Beach. Get a rental right near the water. Spend some time just you and me before this little one joins us and life gets a lot busier.”

She wants to do it more than anything, wants to spend some uninterrupted time away with him, something they hadn’t done since their honeymoon almost 8 months ago, but she sighs, the reality of their lives causing anxiety to spike in her chest.

“What about work? We’re both taking some time off when the baby comes, I don’t want it to be a problem.”

Aaron squeezes her hand reassuringly, “Em, we both have enough leave days banked to take a year off if we wanted to,” he says, smiling when she nods, “If you want to do this we’ll do it. I’ll book us a place to stay tonight.”

She doesn’t have to think about it, doesn’t have to mull it over anymore and she nods, kissing him fiercely as she leans in.

“Yes,” she says, kissing him again before she pulls away, “I want to go away with you,” her words disappear into a laugh as he pulls her in for a hug, her bump pressed up against his side, as he kisses her temple. She sinks into it, into him and wraps her arms around him, her cheek against his shoulder as she sighs, a relaxed feeling washing over her for the first time in weeks, “If you think about it, it’s perfect timing.”

He furrows his brow as he pulls back to look at her, curiosity sparking in his eyes as she tries to suppress a smile, a hint of mischievousness in it that never fails to make his stomach swoop, “What do you mean, sweetheart?”

Her smile only gets wider, “Well you got me pregnant on our honeymoon,” she says, shrugging playfully, “It seems like a nice way to bookend the pregnancy.”

“Em.”

___

He knows they’ve made the right decision the moment they get to their vacation rental.

She’s instantly more relaxed than she has been in weeks, a softness to her smile that makes him want to call up the owner of the beach house and offer to buy it off of him.

“I can help with the bags you know,” she says, her eyebrow raised at him as he gets their bags out of the trunk of their car, her pregnancy pillow tucked under his arm as he shuffles towards the stairs leading up to the house.

“I’ve got it,” he says, ignoring the strain in his back as he makes it up the stairs, smiling at her when she rolls her eyes. He sets down the cases and crouches down to press a kiss to her bump, “You’re already carrying the most important cargo.”

She chuckles wryly and runs her fingers through his hair, fighting a smile as he kisses her bump again, “You’re ridiculous,” she says, shaking his head as he straightens back up, her gaze drifting to where her pillow was still tucked under his arm, “If you drop my pregnancy pillow I’ll kill you, and we both know I’d be able to - even if I am the most pregnant person to ever exist.”

He clears his throat, well aware that whilst her threat was playful she’d be mad if she thought he was laughing at her.

“Yes, sweetheart,” he says, kissing her again before he digs through his pockets for the key to the house. He unlocks the door and pushes it open, his hand splayed on her lower back as he guides her in, “Why don’t you look around, make yourself comfortable, and I’ll get everything in from the car. The owner said his wife would leave lemonade and homemade cookies.”

Her eyes light up and she looks down at her stomach, already walking into the house before she replies, her focus on their unborn child, “Did you hear that, baby? Cookies!”

When he’s done bringing in their things, the suitcases carried up to the bedroom and her pillow diligently placed on her side of the bed, he finds her on the back porch sitting in the swing, her gaze fixed on the ocean and the seemingly unending horizon. She turns to look at him as he steps out, her smile wry as he unfolds a blanket as he joins her, laying it over both of their laps, making sure her bump is covered, when he sits down.

“It’s not even cold out,” she says, wrapping both her arms around one of his, her hand squeezing gently at his tricep as she lays her head against his shoulder.

“I know,” he replies, resting his cheek against the top of her head, “But I’ve got to look after the two of you,” he adds, placing his hand on her bump, smiling at the movement of the baby, something that got no less amazing no matter how often he felt it, “So,” he says, kissing Emily’s forehead before he pulls back to look at her, “We have four days to do whatever we want.”

She hums and tilts her head to look up at him, the reality of being here with him, the next few days stretched out ahead of them washing over her, “I’d like to say we could have a crazy amount of sex and barely leave the house,” she laments, “But I think all I want to do is nap, eat and sit right here with you.”

“Then that’s exactly what we’ll do,” he assures her, resting his hand on her neck, his thumb tracing her jawline, “As long as I’m with you I don’t mind what we do,” he says, leaning in to kiss the tip of her nose, “And, I have it under good authority that a restaurant just down the street has to die for mac and cheese and they deliver.”

She moans, the sound turning into a delighted laugh as she closes her eyes, “You really know what a pregnant woman loves to hear.”

He hums, kissing her forehead before he lets his hand fall back to her bump, “Maybe I just really know my wife.”

She can’t explain the feeling that swells in her chest, threatening to pull her under as tears press at the back of her eyes. It was moments like this, moments when it was just him and her and their love for each other when she let herself feel the happiness she never thought she’d get, let herself bask in it.

She wasn’t lucky, this hadn’t fallen into her lap. She’d fought for this. Fought to get here and sometimes she’d lost, tripped and fell as the battle seemed too much, but she’d made it here. Made it to him, and he’d done the same to make it to her. They’d endured so much apart, but she knew whatever came next, the good and the bad, they’d face together.

She cups his cheek and rubs her thumb back and forth over his skin, “You’re the love of my life, you know,” she says, her cheeks warm with love and a hint of embarrassment, “I can’t imagine wanting to do any of this with anyone else.”

“You’re the love of my life too,” he says, and he places his hand over hers on his cheek and leans in to kiss her, “I can’t imagine doing it with anyone else either,” he says, frowning at himself when he says it, realising it sounds clumsy because he had done it with someone else.

A shaky breath escapes him, her admission not new but unexpected in the moment, their conversation about her favourite pregnancy food suddenly turning into more. He loved her so much it hurt sometimes. It was different to how he’d loved Haley. They’d grown up together, had initially grown together and then apart, both of them still in love with a version of themselves that no longer existed. He and Emily loved each other for who they were, for what they’d gone through, and he knew he’d have it for the rest of his life.

He sighs at himself and shakes his head, “I mean-”

“I know what you mean,” she says softly, cutting him off as she presses her thumb into his lower lip, “I’m glad we came here.”

He rests his forehead against hers, “Me too.”

They sit there for a few moments in silence, the only sound the waves crashing against the shore in the background. The moment comes to an end when her stomach audibly makes a noise that makes them both laugh, the baby almost moving in tandem.

“I think baby wants some of that mac and cheese,” she says, leaning into his palm when he wipes away a stray tear that had escaped her lashline.

He chuckles, pressing a kiss against her lips before he kisses her bump. He stands up to find the stack of take-out menus the owner had left out, but she stops him, her hand tight around his as if she didn’t want him to go, “I’ll be right back.”

She sighs and relents, letting go of him before she winks at him, “Make sure to bring me some of those cookies on your way back.”

“Anything you want, sweetheart,” he says as he steps back into the house, “Absolutely anything.”

-x-

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zombieunicorngamerzu · 5 months

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(Aaron Hotchner and Emily Prentiss x New Youngest BAU agent fem reader)

[Warnings- Power Dynamics, Stalking, Dark themes, Case details, Slow burn? Drowning and being revived, hypothermia, shared bath with Aaron, Naive reader, Mommy and Daddy, PNV sex, innocent reader, smut, claiming, creampies spanking, praise, aftercare]

The day you joined the BAU, you thought everybody was very nice, the others were welcoming, but the two that stuck out the most to you were SSA Aaron Hotchner, who greeted you with a firm handshake and a hand on your back, his voice was deep, rough, and monotone, but you could tell in his eyes that he showed a little concern over you, probably because you were only nineteen, but you were a genius, like Spencer Reid you held a extremely high IQ, causing the FBI to recruit you after you hacked into their main systems on “accident”, Garcia was actually the one to catch you and then recommend you after you were caught to join the FBI.

Next was Emily Prentiss, she greeted you with a smile and a hug, she was so warm and friendly but she held more concern over you, a protectiveness and slight affection for you she showed well to others if they got too close to you. She saved you from many situations, either with people underestimating you when you joined a case or with unsubs who tried to prey on you for your, what she called, “naivety.” Emily always claimed you showed too much compassion to unsubs when interrogating or provoking.

That’s what you were good at, you surprised the team with your abilities to get into the minds of unsubs, your ability to predict their behavior or intentions even surpassed Spencer, which shocked the entire team. You, this little ball of smiles and shyness turned into a calculating manipulator as soon as you hit the interrogation room. You were unmatched and always used tactics of bonding with the unsubs, empathizing with them before using tactics of, “I would do the same if I were in your position,” or “That must have been so hard for you, I can’t even imagine being alone like that and suffering, how do you do it?”

You would play unsubs like a violin with your “caring” displays, you showed them more respect and empathy than anyone in their lives did, practically lovebombing them with care and concern while playing dumb the whole time. You were actually the smartest on the team which gained you respect a lot. The only issues you had were… well you, your clumsiness, your inability to be aware of your surroundings, how easily you would get distracted, you constantly worried both Emily, Hotch, and the others, they constantly wondered how the hell you were still alive.

Both Emily, Hotch, and JJ were your main supervisors on missions, having to literally be attached to your hip to make sure you didn’t get ambushed or injured simply because you just couldn’t be aware of your surroundings. Even outside of work both Emily and Hotch have had to “watch over you” to make sure you were safe, you couldn’t drive surprisingly, which both of them didn’t know if that was a good or bad thing, but you took the subway to and from work everyday, Emily and Hotch took turns, “subtly” making sure to take the train every morning and late night just to make sure you got home safe or they would just offer to drive you, which is what you usually did after a few months of working with them.

But months into the job, after a particularly hard mission that took you all to Alaska, Emily and Hotch freaked, like growing totally overbearing and overprotective, not leaving your side. That mission was a nightmare. You couldn’t stand the cold, so literally once you got there you just couldn’t function, Emily was the first to notice how you grew quiet, practically mute, shivering violently even in the three layers and coat she dressed you in. She tried to help by rubbing your shoulders and keeping you close to her and Hotch, but nothing worked.

The team had never seen you so quiet, you just were not built for this case, or the cold weather. Even when you had to share rooms at the small inn you didn't react, too busy shivering due to the cold, you didn't care or comprehend the fact that Emily had been holding you the whole time, or the fact that when you were burying your face into her shoulder Emily smiled. You were led up to a small room in the inn with, wow... only one bed and a small couch. You immediately said you could take the couch but were cut off by both Emily and Aaron who you were bunking with that it would be warmer if you shared the bed together.

So that's where you ended up for the night, sandwiched between the two older agents until early dawn when you had to get up and get dressed to head into the cold again to another crime scene due to the killer striking again in the night. You were again, quiet, grumpy, and miserable, and it didn't help that the crime scene was on the docs near the icy dark depths of water. You were petrified of bodies of water, and you never knew why, you just stayed away from water all you could, plus you couldn't swim. Emily was the first to notice you staring at the water with an almost fearful expression, walking over to you to nudge you gently, "Hey, you okay?"

You snapped your head up quickly at the nudge, nodding as you crossed your arms, "Yeah, just cold." She just raised her brows at you. "Really? Because you're staring at the water like it did something to you." You just sighed, looking up at her hesitantly, "I just- I don't like water." She frowned a little in confusion, "Why?" The way Emily was staring at you with her head tilted made you fluster, it was embarrassing to you, so you just lowered your head with a sigh, seeing the cold mist that your breath gave as you shuttered, "I-I can't swim."

Emily's eyes widened at your words, now she felt paranoid about you even being on the doc, her hand gently wrapping around your arm to pull you a little further away from the edge as she spoke, "Then how about we keep you away from these ledges, yeah?" You just blushed at the way she tried to protect you from the possibility of slipping, she watched you much closer now until you got off the docks, everybody heading back to the inn for the day. When you got back you decided to try to hang around down in the common area, watching out the windows with some hot chocolate before something caught your eye.

You immediately dropped your mug down on the table with a yell to the others as you saw a hooded figure dragging what you assumed to be a victim down to the docs, running out the door, and drawing your gun as you chased after them. You could hear commotion and yelling behind you, so you knew the others were coming, that made you feel slightly better as you ran out on the docs, it was dark and hard to see, your breathes heavy as you looked around for the unsub before you felt a shove against your back, slipping before your entire body went into shock at the feeling of water, cold water surrounding you.

Emily, Derek, and Aaron were the first ones out of the inn and the first to see the unsub shove you into the water, Emily practically screamed when she saw you slip and fall in, her voice booming out to Aaron as he barked at Derek to go after the unsub, JJ already on him, "Aaron, she cant swim!" Aarons eyes widened at Emily's words before he was running over to the doc with Emily calling out for him, but he didn't stop, he jumped in straight after you.

You didn't know what to do, flailing in complete shock with a scream of terror for help. You were petrified at the water swallowing you up, the temperature shocked your body to the point you couldn't feel it, all you remembered was going under and then darkness, piercing cold, heaviness, your lungs on fire, quickly growing tired due to fighting the water and not knowing which way was up, eventually you just gave up, letting the darkness swallow you up. You didn't remember much during that time, you didn't know how long you were under, a minute? Two? More? All you knew was that you felt a strong frame pulling your body against theirs before you were hauled up.

Emily stood above, immediately crouching down as Aaron came back up, shivering and panting with his hair wet as he held you up for Emily to take, "Take her, Take her!" he yelled out as her hands went down to grab you, pulling your limp body out of the water with a grunt onto the doc as Aaron pulled himself out, he straddled you without hesitation to check your pulse, "Shit, she's not breathing, her pulse is too weak." Emily sat down on her knees quickly, brushing your hair out of your face, tapping your cheeks, "Come on, pretty girl, don't do this to us!" Aaron just grunted and began chest compressions, alternating between compressions and breathing air into your lungs, he was terrified he'd lose you.

You couldn't move, that's all you knew, you barely even registered someone doing compressions on you, voices were muffled but there was yelling and then someone's lips against yours forcing air down your throat until you felt like you were choking, it took a whole 45 seconds to revive you from your unconscious state, one last breathe of air into you until you were keeling over with a lurch straight into Emily's arms, coughing up copious amounts of water from your lungs as she slapped at your back, her voice shaky, "Good girl, baby, cough it out, get it all out." She just breathed out in relief, giving Aaron a look as he sat up on his knees, closing his eyes with relief before getting up.

"We gotta get her warm." Aaron husked out quickly as he picked you up, you didn't have much fight left in you anyway to refuse as he carried you back to the inn and up to the room with Emily in tow. Emily immediately got to drawing a bath for you as Aaron sat you on the toilet lid with you shivering violently, his hands peeling off his own shirt while trying to keep you sat up and conscious before Emily helped him undress you, her voice soft as she spoke, "You both need to get warm, you can't stay in those clothes."

She took a breath at the sight of Aarons abs and your smaller frame, biting her lip as she knelt down to speak to you, "Hey, Y/N, if you can hear me, you and Aaron are gonna sit in that tub together, you have to get warm." She tried to warn you even though you were practically unresponsive, just giving weak whimpers back, before she helped Aaron pick you up and place you in the warm water. You were still shivering violently when Aaron sunk in behind you while Emily sat to the side, watching with concern as she looked at Aaron, "What was she thinking, going after the unsub like that? Especially to the docs- I just-"

"Emily, we cant control that now, all we can do is take care of her now and reprimand her when shes in better health." Aaron spoke out in a gravelly tone as he brushed your hair out of your face, as shameful as Aaron felt, to have your naked body so close and pressed up to his, it made him hard. He tried to shift his body to be respectful, but you were basically on his lap, he just bit his lip with a soft groan, closing his eyes as he pushed his cock between your inner thighs to rest there. Emily's pupils dilated as she watched, blushing as she shifted in her spot, "God, Aaron... I want her just as bad as you do."

Aaron just chuckled with a shake of his head as he tightened his hold on you, "I don't know about that, you can't feel how soft her skin is right now, Em." He husked out which only made Emily tilt her head at him with a small smirk, "Yeah? Well let's get our baby feeling better and hopefully, we'll both be able to feel her." She purred out. Aaron just nodded with a low groan, his eyes closing. You probably laid against Aaron in the bath for over an hour, at least until it got a bit cold until you were lifted up and wrapped in a fluffy robe before taken to bed and covered in at least three blankets with both Emily and Aaron holding you between them.

When morning came, you slowly woke to the sounds of breathy feminine moans and soft grunts, frowning as you squirmed at the feeling of the bed bouncing before rolling onto your side into Aaron, he felt so warm before you noticed his heavy breathes alongside Emily's, finally registering why the bed stopped moving once you opened your eyes. Emily was straddled on Aarons cock with her hands on his chest, she was riding him with you laid right next to them. They both were still, you were shocked until Emily spoke, "Hey baby, were sorry... we couldn't help it, we just-" Aaron cut her off by pulling you closer and meeting your lips in a hot kiss, mumbling out against your lips, "You scared us last night, babygirl... we thought we lost you. Never scare us like that again." He spoke out firmly, cupping your chin.

You just stared at them both, wide-eyed and with a blush, you didn't know what do to, its true you had developed a crush on the both of them, but you thought that just because they were the first male and female superiors you had, your mommy and daddy issues acting up, but no. Here you were laying beside them as they fucked. Emily just tucked your hair away before leaning down to kiss your forehead, "Shh baby, let Mommy and Daddy have our fun and then well tend to you." She husked out before moaning as she raised herself up on Aarons cock before sinking back down and building her pace again as she panted out, "You just watch baby."

You let out a soft whimper as you watched Emily ride Hotch, she was passionate, her hips rolling with every thrust of her hips down, Hotchs hands sliding up her waist before he gripped and thrust up to meet her, making them both moan as they joined together, Emily's tits bouncing as she only rode him harder and faster the closer they got to cumming together. Emily was experienced in her own pleasure, rubbing her clit as she sank up and down on Hotchs cock, her moans getting huskier as she closed her eyes before you saw hoe Hotch slid his hands to grip at her ass as a vice to thrust his hips up quicker, seeing how his cock would stretch her and disappear inside her with each slam of his hips up made you squirm, you were soaking wet seeing how they fucked, especially hearing Emily moan as she came.

Emily cried out as she came around Hotchs cock, causing him to groan out at the feeling as he came inside her, you watched as Emily lurched and trembled, her thighs shaking as her hips twitched, her cunt gripping around Hotchs cock tighter and tighter, spilling cum down his shaft before she slowly raised up and off his cock, his cum spilling out of her as she crawled onto you, untying your robe with a tender kiss to your lips, "Is this okay baby, are you okay with this?" Emily needed to make sure you were alright before she continued, but she was answered by a timid nod from you, making her smile, "Good girl." She hummed out before kissing you again, darting her tongue into your mouth as she slid her hand down between your thighs to feel your wetness, moaning when she did.

"Oh, Aaron, she's so wet for us... did watching us make you that excited baby?" she purred out with a devious smirk as she nudged her nose against yours and found your clit with her fingertips, rubbing little circles immediately, which made you moan out and arch, closing your eyes at the warm buildup of pleasure her fingers blessed you with before they were joined by another larger pare that prodded at your entrance, whining when you felt Aaron slip a finger inside your tight wetness while he leaned over to press his lips against your nipple to suck. The stimulation of Emily's fingers rubbing circles on your clit to Aaron pumping and curling his finger inside you to his lips wrapped around your nipple, it was enough to quickly make you cum in minutes.

Luckily, minutes were all Hotch needed to get hard again, I mean it wasn't difficult due to how adorable you sounded as you came. He was a sucker for you, secretly, he loved how small you were compared to him. Emily pulled away slightly to let Aaron sit up between your thighs, but what surprised you most was when he flipped you, forcing you onto your tummy in a arch as Emily settled in front of you, her legs spread as she guided you to her soaked cunt, her voice gentle but filled with lust, "Now baby, your gonna take Daddy's cock while you eat Mommy out, okay?" You just nodded with a blush, always so eager to please before your face was shoved into her pussy by Aarons hand on the back of your head.

You let out a cry when you felt Aarons cock push into you from behind, feeling the slow stretch of your wet little pussy stretching around his girthy cock made you tremble from the feeling, moaning into Emily's pussy which made her shiver from the stimulation on her clit before you felt Aaron start to thrust into you at a punishing pace, his cock rockhard as you felt him graze against your gspot with each thrust, your eyes rolling in pleasure with a groan into Emily's pussy as you tried to lap at her clit, but it was so hard with how good Aaron felt, his words making your pussy flutter around his cock, "Mmm... that's it, baby, take my cock. You were made for it, weren't you? Such a good girl."

"Yes, she is! Fuck- such a pretty mouth on her, eating mommy out like a good girl... yes baby, suck, suck for mommy!" Emily moaned out with her hand in your hair as she shoved your face harder against her cunt, feeling her orgasm close, crying out as she felt your lips wrap around her clit to suck, making her cum quick and hard, her grip tight on your hair as Aaron sped up his thrusts, making you whine. You felt his pace, rough and fast, his hips snapping against your ass with a slap to your ass as he praised you, sinking his cock deeper into you with every thrust, your ass so soft against his pelvis as he slammed into you with a groan, holding your hips tight as he emptied his seed into you, sending you spiraling into your own orgasm, trembling violently with a loud cry between the two of them as you clamped down on his cock.

"Oh fuck..." Aaron just groaned as he slowly pulled out of you, seeing his cum-covered cock twitching still as he finally slipped out of you, seeing his cum ooze out of your used little hole made him moan. You couldn't help the whimper that left your lips at the emptiness, but you were quickly pulled up into Emily's arms as she laid your head on her chest, kissing your head. "You did so well baby." Aaron nodded and kissed your back before laying down next to you two, speaking lowly, "You did love, so please, no more diving into cold waters... never scare us like that again, we couldn't stand losing you, Y/N..." You just nodded quietly, still recovering from the fear of the night before as you spoke, "I promise." That was all they needed to hear before you were snuggled back under the blankets by the two of them and attacked with many kisses.

#criminal minds x reader #criminal minds #aaron hotchner #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch imagine #aaron hotch fanfiction #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x y/n #Aaron Hotcher x Emily Prentiss #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x emily prentiss #aaron hotchner x female reader #emily prentiss wlw #emily prentiss x y/n #emily prentiss #emily prentiss smut #emily prentiss x reader

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hushedlover · 6 months

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an aaron hotchner x reader where she brings in their kid to the office!! i feel like this could be super cute!!

“Aw, look at her chubby little cheeks!”

Garcia squeals, making grabby hands at the little girl resting on your hip. You laugh and let the blonde woman take your toddler from your arms. The 2 year old claps in delight and immediately latches her hands onto the chunky necklace Garcia was wearing. She was like a crow, anything shiny immediately was in her hands.

“You did good, mama,” Derek smiles as he pulls you into a side hug. You grin up at him and hug him back.

“Thanks, Morgan. Any idea where Aaron is at?” You ask, smiling warmly as Spencer and JJ come over to coo at your little girl too.

“Last I saw, him and Rossi were talking in his office,” Derek chuckles as little Hotchner tugs on Reid’s hair. You smile as you watch her look over at the sound of the deep laugh, your baby immediately squealing at the sight of Uncle Derek.

Suddenly you’re being pulled into a warm chest from behind, strong arms wrapping around your waist to tug you backwards. You laugh softly as Aaron takes a deep breath with his nose pressed to your hair.

“My favorite girls,” He murmurs. “The best surprise.”

“Brought you lunch, too. Thought maybe we could do a picnic,” you hum back. It’s impossible not to lean back into his warmth and close your eyes, just resting like that for a moment.

“Maybe we could steal a few minutes for just us. I don’t think anyone is going to be letting our girl go for the next little bit,” Aaron says with a hint of a laugh in his voice. He watches as his team passes around your little girl, listening intently to the senseless babbles that make up the story she’s telling.

“Sounds perfect to me.”

Pulling out of Aaron’s arms, you grab his large hand and interlace your fingers. JJ catches your eye and send a wink along with a thumbs up, assuring you that she’d keep an eye on your baby girl. Tugging, you lead Aaron out of the bullpen with the team smirking and laughing at the two of you.

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aureliasfate · 5 months

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#not lovers not coworkers but a secret third thing #(irrevocably tethered and bonded by their shared trauma)#they’re also married but that’s beside the point #hotchniss #aaron hotchner #emily prentiss #criminal minds #aaron hotchner x emily prentiss

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agentdilfhotchner · 2 months

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for my hotchniss people 🫶

#aaron hotchner #criminal minds #thomas gibson #hotchniss #aaron hotchner x emily prentiss #emily prentiss

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cloudlessly-light · 2 months

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#hotchniss #hotchniss fanfiction #hotchniss smut #aaron hotchner x emily prentiss smut #aaron hotchner x emily prentiss #hotch x emily #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds smut #aaron x emily #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner smut #dom aaron hotchner #emily prentiss fanfiction #emily prentiss smut #sub emily prentiss

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hyperfixatedoncrimminalminds · 3 months

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

Aaron Hotchner X Emily Prentiss X Teen Daughter reader

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

Third person pov...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The end!

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

Requests are open!

Word count : 1133

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rawr-jess · 1 year

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Need I say more….

#literally the definition of THEM #hotchniss #our wee idiots in love #gotta love em #Emily is strong woman who don’t need no man #Aaron is strong man who will always be one step behind to kick whoever looks at her wrong where the sun don’t shine #Aaron is also secretly gives off Labrador energy when not working #fight me on it #paget brewster #emily prentiss #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x emily prentiss #aaron x emily #thomas gibson #hotch x prentiss #criminal minds

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alexblakegf · 3 months

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another hotchniss in secret relationship ig posts please 🫣🫣 I'm addicted to them <3

(I made these whilst it was really empty at work 😭)

Hotchniss soft launch on instagram stories

taglist 🏷️:

@prentissesredtanktop @fanof051 @luhwithah @dj-bynum3718 @hopedoesntknow @momily @kenseverything @psychopath-at-heart @jjareau-cm

be added to my taglist here

send asks and requests here

#criminal minds #aaron hotchner #emily prentiss #hotchniss #aaron hotchner x emily prentiss #instagram au #mimi’s requests

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hotchnisslvr · 24 days

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come home with me

pairing: emily prentiss/aaron hotchner

rating: t

category: angst, hurt/comfort with a happy ending

word count: 7.2k

summary: An alternate version of "Faceless, Nameless," where Foyet leaves Hotch to bleed out in his apartment and Emily finds him clinging to life. Her quick response saves his life but causes her to question her own decisions in the hours leading up to finding him. Hotchniss. Hurt/comfort with sweet ending. Some angst.

Emily yawns and wishes she’d taken that second cup of coffee for the road this morning when she’d left the office. As the elevator dings, she steps out onto the carpeted hallway. If he slept through his alarm while the rest of us are out working this case, I’m going to kill him, she thinks as she stifles another yawn.

She checks her phone and surprise, there’s no new texts, voicemails, or emails from Hotch. She selects his contact and hits dial, bringing the phone to her ear as she scans the identical doors for his apartment number.

You’ve reached SSA Aaron Hotchner— Emily groans out loud and snaps her phone shut, cutting off his voicemail, her irritation starting to border on anger. This wasn’t like Hotch, ignoring his phone. Sure they’d all been exhausted last night, but to the point he sleeps this late into the morning and doesn’t bother to answer his phone? No, something wasn’t right. She could feel it in her gut.

She should’ve gone home with him when he offered, but she knew how they operated when a case was over and they settled in for the night. One glass of wine would lead to another and, well, very little sleep would be had for either of them. She’d been so physically, mentally, and emotionally drained after Canada…just the thought of it now felt like a weight dragging down her shoulders. No, she’d needed to be alone; to shower and wash off the sick and twisted vestiges of the horrors she and the team had discovered on that pig farm.

After turning Hotch down, she’d smiled at him and winked and told him they could go and get a late breakfast once they’d had the opportunity to catch up on sleep. Now, a part of her was glad they’d caught a case. He probably would’ve slept through breakfast, anyway, she thought irritably. Ok, she wasn’t actually glad they’d caught a case. This one was a doozy and they needed every pair of eyes they could get if they were going to keep the doctor and his son safe; and they were running out of time. She hated cases that involved kids, no matter how old. They didn’t deserve the trauma that would result from having their own or their loved ones' lives threatened.

Finally, Hotch’s apartment comes into view. She tucks her phone into her jacket pocket and rapps her knuckles against the door.

“Hotch, it’s Emily,” she calls and knocks again. She pauses, straining her ears for the sound of shuffling footsteps. Her brow furrows when there is only continued silence.

“Hotch?” she repeats, this time there’s a question in the way she says his name. She knocks again, harder. Rolling her eyes, she digs her phone back out of her pocket and redials his number. A phone rings on the other side of the door, but there is no sound that suggests someone was moving toward it.

Emily’s stomach turns as dread begins to pool in her belly. The hair on the back of her neck stands on end as a sinking feeling takes hold. Her hand drifts to her gun instinctively; her thumb hooking over the rotating hood and releasing her sidearm. As she removes the weapon, she uses her other hand to reach for the doorknob. Before she even attempts to turn it, she knows it will open.

Hotch never leaves his door unlocked.

She pushes the door open and readies her weapon, quickly moving side to side as she sweeps the room for an immediate threat. Hotch’s keys, phone, and bag are on the coffee table and sofa as if he’d just arrived home but she didn’t see him in her initial glances over the open concept apartment. As she continues her sweep, her ears pick up on the sound of soft wheezing.

That same sinking feeling grows as she crosses through the living room and it’s then she sees the bullet hole in the wall and the glass shattered on the floor. She pushes through the feeling of dread, effectively burying it knowing she needs to be alert and prepared for whatever lay beyond the sofa. Hoping for an incapacitated unsub, but knowing better, her world still shatters as she takes in the sight of her friend, supervisor, and lover unconscious and bloody on the linoleum tiled floor.

She drops to her knees and feels for his pulse with two fingers. It’s faint, but there. “Hotch,” she calls his name and holsters her gun, determining the assailant is no longer present.

His dark lashes flutter. “That’s it,” she says encouragingly, “Open your eyes, Aaron. It’s me. It’s Emily.”

“Emily,” he whispers weakly.

She pulls out her phone again and dials 911. Placing it on speaker, she sets the phone down next to Hotch and begins unbuttoning his shirt to further assess the damage.

The operator answers and Emily cuts them off. “This is Agent Emily Prentiss with the FBI.” She grimaces as she haphazardly untucks the rest of his shirt and pushes the fabric out of her way. “I am at The Langham apartment complex, apartment 121. I’m here with SSA Aaron Hotchner. He’s suffered multiple stab wounds. I need paramedics and a crime scene unit sent here immediately.”

Her eyes rapidly scan the woulds, trying to assess which is the worst. God, there is so much blood. Shrugging out of her blazer, she balls the fabric in her fists and applies pressure to the two wounds that appear deepest, those to his abdomen and chest.

Aaron moans and she apologizes. “I know it hurts, just hold on. Help is coming.”

“Paramedics are seven minutes out,” dispatch states over the receiver.

She wants so desperately to hold his face in her hands, to be comforting him instead of causing more pain, but she needs to get the bleeding under control until help arrives.

Hotch’s lashes flutter again and his head lolls to the side where she is kneeling. “Foyet,” he breathes.

Emily’s eyes widen. “The Reaper is here, in DC?”

“I don’t—” his breath rattles as he wheezes. “He was waiting for me.”

“Did he say anything?” She asks as she adjusts her grip on the jacket she’s using to staunch the bleeding, of which is already seeping through the fabric. She curses under her breath, though the sound of sirens can finally be heard in the distance.

“Emily, if I don’t ma—”

“Don’t,” she interrupts, her voice catching. “Don’t even think about finishing that sentence, Aaron. You’re going to be fine.”

The sirens are deafening now and she knows they’re pulling up outside. She smiles and releases a short laugh. “They’re here,” she says. “Hold on, Hotch. Just a little longer.”

He blinks slowly, trying to focus on her. “He told me I should’ve,” his eyes close momentarily and then open, “that I should’ve made a deal.”

Her brow pinches, but she doesn’t have time to push further as the paramedics come crashing through the door.

“Over here!” she calls.

Immediately they try to take over. “Ma’am, it’s ok,” the female medic says. “You can take your hands off of him.”

It takes a moment for her voice to register, but Emily does as she is told. She releases the pressure she’d been holding to his injuries, and rolls back on to her heels into a standing position to give them space.

“Heart rate is elevated, pressure is dropping.” The medic evaluates. “Start an IV and hang pressors.”

Emily watches them work, her pulse pounding in her ears. While one pushes the IV into his arm, the other fastens a brace around his neck before moving on to snip away what’s left of his shirt and begin packing the knife wounds with gauze. It’s like the world is moving in slow motion. She doesn’t even register when her phone rings until the medic brings her attention to it. She blinks hard and apologizes. She bends down and scoops it into her hand, smearing blood across the screen as she flips it open. She curses as Spencer’s name flashes under the smudge. She turns her wrist to glance at her watch. It’s been forty five minutes and she told Reid that she’d be back in under thirty.

She wastes no time explaining the situation. Reid reports understanding. Before she hangs up she says, “Reid, it’s bad.” For the first time since finding him, tears choke her voice. “I’ll call Penelope at the hospital, but do not tell the others. You all need to focus on the case.”

Emily hastily hangs up and moves to follow the paramedics as they maneuver the gurney through the apartment.

They stop though as Hotch asks them to wait, his voice imperceptible. His hand falls limply off the gurney and Emily steps in, taking it into hers.

“What did he leave?” he asks, though his voice is muddled by the oxygen mask that’s been placed over his mouth and nose. “What did he take?”

“I-I don’t,” she stammers in response. The Reaper’s profile flashes through her mind’s eyes. The glasses, the wedding ring, he always takes and he always gives. “I don’t know, Hotch.”

She nods to the medics, signaling them to keep moving. Emily doesn’t drop his hand. As long as she can feel the warmth of his skin on hers, she knows he’s alive. That he’s still here.

Crime techs and police units are pulling up to the building as they load Hotch into the back of the ambulance. Emily watches on from her seat, anxiety clawing at her insides as she does her best to stay out of the paramedics’ way as they continue to work on stabilizing Hotch.

The blaring sirens echo in her head, rattling around and bouncing off of her skull. It’s not a sound she’s unfamiliar with, but today it’s drone seems more of a death march than a rally cry. The cavalry isn’t coming to save the day, but rather fleeing from death’s grip.

The ambulance comes to a grating stop and the medics waste no time flinging open the doors and pushing Hotch out. Emily follows quickly and as doctors and nurses swarm the gurney, arms reach out to halt her movement.

Emily cranes her neck around the woman that’s stopped her, pushing against her as she tries to follow the team of doctors that have disappeared behind two swinging double doors.

“No, I have to follow him. I’m an FBI agent,” she states, attempting to leverage some form of authority over the situation.

“Ma’am, he’s being rushed to surgery. I need to make sure you’re alright. Where are you injured?”

Emily’s face screws up, her lips turning and brow furrowing. “Injured? I’m not—” It’s then she catches a glimpse of her reflection in the lobby window. Her face is smeared with Hotch’s blood. Like pieces of a puzzle falling into place, her eyes drop to her hands, which are covered front and back with blood. The red substance stains the skin on her arms as well as the entire front of the dressy tank top she’d been wearing under her blazer. “It’s not mine,” she finally says.

The nurse’s face softens and Emily hates the way her eyes fill with sympathy. “Is there anyone I can call?”

Yeah, about 7, but they’re all occupied or on death’s door.

“No,” she says. “I can just,” she rubs her temple and takes a deep breath. “Where’s the closest waiting area?”

The nurse tsks and shakes her head. “No, no, come on,” she says, gesturing for Emily to follow her. “You can shower in the locker room. I’ll get a pair of scrubs for you to wear and a bag to store your clothes in.”

Emily thanks her and follow silently, twisting and turning through the many hallways until she reaches the door labeled “Women’s Locker Room.”

“There’s soaps and hair products in each shower. I’ll be right back. Go on in. I’ll leave everything on the bench for you.”

Emily nods her thanks and ducks inside. As she passes by the long stretch of mirror behind the row of sinks, her stomach lurches. It did look like she’d been on the receiving end of Foyet’s knife with how much blood covered the front of her body.

She tears her gaze away from her sullied figure and turns toward the showers. Slowly, she sinks down onto one of the wooden benches. Resting her elbows on her knees, she drops her head into her hands. Thick, hot tears blur her vision as she takes a shuddering breath.

2 minutes, she thinks. 2 minutes and then you pull yourself together.

No sooner does the thought cross her mind does the dam break and the tears free flow down her cheeks in thick, hot lines. She takes deep gasping breaths as the sobs rattle her body. Her mascara bleeds into her eyes, stinging them. Using the backs of her hands, she presses them to her eyes, wiping the tears away and no doubt smearing blood and makeup across her face in the process.

She blows out a breath and forces herself into a seated position. “He’s going to be alright,” she affirms to no one but herself. She stands on shaky legs and feels the weight of exhaustion slowly creeping into her muscles. She kicks out of her boots and undresses.

She swipes at the faucet inside the shower and doesn’t wait for it to warm up before standing under the icy stream of water. She gasps and sputters but keeps her face under the flow. Once the water begins to heat up, she opens her eyes and glances down at her feet. Blood sleuces down her legs in pink rivulets, swirling and disappearing down the drain.

She pumps the lavender scented shower gel into her hand from the dispenser on the wall and scrubs her skin until it’s red and raw. She works it under her nails and up and down her limbs. It feels like it’s stained her permanently, his blood, inked onto her like a tattoo. After washing her hair, she cuts the water off and squeezes the water from her dark locks. She pulls the shower curtain open and just as the nurse had said, everything had been left for her in a neat pile on the bench. The nurse had even bagged her dirty clothes for her, not like Emily would try to salvage them. She dresses quickly in the pair of blue scrubs. They're a little big on her, but it feels so good to not be wearing clothes soaked with Hotch’s blood.

Slowly, but surely, she retraces her steps back to the waiting room and the charge nurse at the desk tells her Hotch is still in surgery. Of course he is. It had only been twenty five minutes since she’d arrived.

At least if he’s still in surgery, he’s still alive, she thinks, though the thought is still far from comforting.

Reluctantly, Emily crosses the waiting room and sinks into one of the plastic covered chairs settling in for a painfully long afternoon that smelled like antiseptic.

•

It bewilders her to look down at the hard tile floor and not see a path worn down to the cement underneath. How long had she been pacing this same stretch of floor in the waiting room? Her thumb nail aches from where she’d been anxiously gnawing it down to the quick, a bad habit she’d fought for years to quit, but in her most vulnerable moments came back.

She glances down at her watch, of which she’d been ninety eight percent successful at cleaning free of Hotch’s blood. She’d have to send it out to get the bits stuck in between the interlocking pieces of the wrist band cleaned out. It had been three hours. She blows out an exasperated breath.

Surely there would have been some update by now. What if he’s—

She’s unable to finish the thought when a doctor pushes through the double doors where Hotch had disappeared behind earlier.

She perks up and sends up a silent prayer that he’s on his way to see her. He wears a surgeon’s cap, covering his short blonde hair, and as he meets her eyes, she knows it’s the doctor that operated on Hotch.

“Well?” she asks, her voice shaking with the anticipation of news. “How is he?”

The doctor approaches and slows to a stop in front of her. “It was touch and go there for a while. He lost a lot of blood. We were able to stabilize him, but it’ll take some time for him to heal. He’ll be out of commission for a month, maybe longer.”

“Can I see him?” Emily asks, eyes pleading.

A glimmer of sympathy flashes across the surgeon’s eyes. He nods. “He’s unconscious now. When he wakes, he’ll likely be out of it. He’s under the influence of some pretty strong painkillers.”

Emily swallows and nods as she inhales. “I understand.”

The doctor’s eyes shift then and Emily immediately realizes he’s got more to say. “Is there something more I should know?”

“Well,” he begins. “When you brought him, you confirmed with the paramedics and nurses that that is indeed, Aaron Hotchner.”

Emily’s features twist, puzzled by his question. “Yes?”

“We found this when we cut his clothes off of him.” He reaches into his pocket and passes Emily a bifold badge identical to hers. She flips it open, eyes widening as she reads Derek Morgan’s name and her mind flashes to several weeks earlier when he’d lost his credentials. George Foyet had stolen them from him.

“Thank you,” she says and tucks the badge into the scrubs pocket. “Derek is a member of our team. This relates to a case we’re working on. I’m afraid I can’t say more. Please,” she says, her words now a plea, “take me to him.”

The doctor hesitates, like he might say more, but he doesn’t. “Follow me, then.”

•

Her eyelids are so heavy, but she refuses to fall asleep in case he wakes up. She takes another sip from the now lukewarm hospital coffee. It’s bitter on her tongue and her stomach roils as it travels down her esophagus. When was the last time she ate? She glances at the clock and it’s pushing 3:00PM. School would be getting out soon. Her thoughts wander to Reid and the team, and if they’d had any luck with locating the unsub threatening the doctor and his son. How could this be the same day she’d woken up on? It felt like it had been days since she said goodnight and kissed Hotch goodbye after he walked her to her car last night. It was only this morning since they were supposed to go to breakfast and enjoy the rare day off from cases and unsubs and torture and murder.

She holds Hotch’s loose hand in hers, the feel of his skin and its warmth a comfort. She leans forward, elbows on her knees, and rotates his hand gently to hold it against her cheek. Closing her eyes, she leans into his palm and kisses the skin there gently. “I should’ve gone home with you,” she whispers, “Maybe I could’ve done something.”

She ponders the likelihood of that as she sits there watching the rise and fall of his chest, the steady beeping of the heart monitor pulsing rhythmically beside her. Now and then the blood pressure cuff around his arm hisses as it contracts and releases. What were the odds that her being there would’ve changed the outcome? The Reaper had almost exclusively killed couples, but those were in smaller enclosed settings. He took advantage of couples by trapping them in their vehicles, minimizing their ability to escape. Hotch might have still taken off his gun, but would she have? Would Foyet have even had the chance to get the shot off? Or would that bullet have gone into her instead of the wall?

“You’re going to drive yourself crazy, Emily,” she whispers to herself. She knows there is no sense in reviewing the ‘what if’s,’ but it seems impossible when her entire support system is unavailable and she’s keeping this monumental secret from them.

“Just wake up, Hotch,” she quietly pleads before pressing another kiss to his hand. “I just need you to be okay.”

Her eyes flare as she feels the slightest twitch against her ring finger. She sits up straighter and holds his hand in both hers.

“Hotch?”

Her breathing stills. Did she imagine that? She squeezes his hand in hers.

“It’s Emily, Aaron. I’m here.”

Faintly, his fingers press into hers. An excited bubble of laughter escapes her lips as relief floods through her veins. She kisses his knuckles. “Thank God,” she whispers.

“Emi—” his voice is hoarse as he starts, but doesn’t finish her name. His eyes don’t open, but his head tilts in her direction.

“I’m right here, Hotch,” she says, shushing him. “I’m not going anywhere. Just, just rest.”

Hotch hums a response but doesn’t articulate anything further than that.

“Emily!” Garcia’s voice is filled with both pain and relief.

She sits up and gingerly lays Hotch’s hand back down on the bed. “Penelope!” Emily stands up and quickly closes the space between them and pulls her into a tight embrace.

“Oh, honey,” Penelope soothes as she rubs a hand up and down Emily’s back. “I’m so sorry you were dealing with this all by yourself.” She pulls away and looks her up and down from behind the lenses of her purple glasses.

“I’m so glad to see you,” Emily says. Her brow pinches. “But the team, the case—”

Penelope’s pink-painted lips curve into a smile as she holds up a manicured finger, cutting her off. “Not to worry, my sweet girl. The case is closed. The team saved the day. All is good in the world.” Penelope purses her lips as she pauses. “Well, except for the part where Agent Hotchner was treated like mincemeat and Reid was shot.”

Emily’s head snaps up. “Reid was what?” she shouts.

Penelope’s eyes widen and the glittery green eyeshadow she’s applied to her eyelids shines under the fluorescent hospital lighting. She waves her hands in front of her body, the multi-colored bangles on her wrist jingling as she does so. “No, no, no, no, no,” she repeats again and again. “He’s fine, he’s fine. He caught one in the leg, but he’s ok. I think he’s being patched up down the hall.”

Emily is already halfway out the door as she calls over her shoulder, “Maybe lead with that next time!”

Penelope’s high-heeled clad feet click and clack as she teeters after her. “Sorry!” she cries as she catches up to her. “So much has happened today I’m just glad that everyone is ok, well, as ok as one can be given the circumstances of the last 72 hours.”

Emily inclines her head to the side and blows air out through her nose. “You could say that again.” Without pausing to peer inside and be sure she’s in the right room, she enters the only other hospital room with an open door, the sound of voices telling her she’s found the right place.

Morgan, Rossi, and JJ stand around the hospital. They’re faces all bear surprised expressions and confusion. Somehow she finds it in herself to crack a joke, “Guys, I get it. My Prada boots don’t match the scrubs, it’s not that bad.”

Morgan breaks apart from the semi-circle that’s formed around Spencer, who also looks incredibly happy to see her despite his injured leg, and pulls her into a hug. “You could’ve called,” he chastises.

Emily rolls her eyes as she pulls away and transitions into JJ’s open arms. “You would’ve made the same call, Morgan. He grunts in response and she smirks to herself.

“How’s Hotch?” Spencer asks, using his fists to push himself into a sitting position without bending his braced leg.

Emily blows out a breath. “He’s in pretty bad shape, I won’t lie. What do we have on Foyet? Anything?”

Rossi shakes his head. “Nothing yet. Crime techs are still going over the apartment.”

“Someone needs to tell them to look for anything that looks like it might be missing; disturbed dust, signs something was torn from something, anything.”

“What are you getting at, Emily?” Derek asks.

Her gaze locks on his as she reaches into her pocket. Without looking, she passes his credentials to him. His eyes shimmer with concern as he takes his badge from her. “Where did you find this?”

“The surgeon,” she gestures aimlessly toward the day. “It was in his pants pocket. Foyet must have put it there after he,” she pauses, voice wavering.

“Ok,” Morgan says, tucking his badge into his pocket. “Thanks, Emily. Rossi, can you?”

“Already on it,” Rossi answers, phone up to his ear. Someone answers almost immediately and he begins to deliver instructions to them regarding this development.

Suddenly, a wave of dizziness and nausea crashes over her. Emily takes a step and stumbles, catching herself on the rail of Spencer’s hospital bed.

“Emily!” Spencer and JJ shout in unison, though JJ is the one to catch her, holding her up with a supportive arm.

Emily blinks twice, hard. The wave passes and she straightens, shrugging out of JJ’s arms though JJ keeps her hand on her back just in case.

“Prentiss, when’s the last time you had something to eat or drink?” Morgan asks, and he sounds more like her father, than her friend.

Her eyes search the room for a clock and quickly land on the digital red numbers blinking up from a small box on the bedside table. 6:04 PM blinks back at her. “What time did we land last night?” she asks.

Morgan releases an exasperated sigh. “That’s it, I’m taking you home.” He reaches for her arm and Emily recoils. “No, Morgan. I’m fine. I need to stay here. Hotch—”

“Will be fine,” he finishes. His brown eyes are hard, but there’s concern in them too. “You’re no good to him, or anyone here if you pass out. Come on. I’ll take you home.”

Emily emerges from her bathroom smelling like her own vanilla-scented shower gel and floral shampoo. She pulls her robe around her and pulls the ties around her waist, securing it at her navel. She smells a combination of aromatic spices and exits the bedroom to find Morgan closing the door to her apartment. In his hand is a white plastic bag, its sides fit to bursting from the number of styrofoam takeout containers stacked inside.

He smiles, flashing a row of white teeth as he does so. He holds up the bag and shakes it, wiggling his hips as he does so. “I got your favorite,” he sing-songs. “We are going to have an Indian feast. We got butter chicken. We got chana masala. We got paneer, and girl, we got enough naan to last us a lifetime.”

Emily smiles, though it feels almost wrong to do so when Hotch and Spence are in the hospital and Foyet is still out there.

As if reading her thoughts, Morgan shakes his head and drops the food on her coffee table. “No,” he says as he shakes his head. “Nope, come on,” he takes her by the hand and guides her to the sofa. “You are allowed to eat and rest. Hotch is stable and Penelope is knitting the world’s longest scarf at his bedside as we speak. JJ just texted me and they’re taking Spencer home now.” He plops on the couch and pulls her down to sit beside him. “You’re only job right now,” he says as digs in his pocket and pulls out a plastic-wrapped set of disposable silverware, “is to eat, drink, and sleep.”

Emily wakes with a start. Very seldom did she fall asleep on the couch. The credits to How to Lose A Guy in Ten Days roll on the flat screen. She pushes herself into a seated position and that’s when she realizes she’d fallen asleep on Morgan’s shoulder. He stirs but doesn’t wake as she stands and picks up the now very empty takeout boxes. She crinkles the aluminum foil linings as quietly as she can as she pushes the trash down into the bin in her kitchen. The headache she’d had when they’d left the hospital is gone, thanks to the many glasses of water Morgan has pushed in front of her. She flips off the kitchen light and crosses back into the living room where she picks up the remote to turn off the TV. Pulling the throw blanket off of the back of the couch, she tosses it over Morgan’s hulking frame and her lips curve into a half smile as he subconsciously snuggles into the plush blanket.

“Goodnight, Derek,” she whispers as she walks to her bedroom and shuts the door behind her. She leans her back against the wood of the door. Light from the streetlights streams in through her partially open blinds, casting strange shadows around the room. She twists them shut, blocking out the light, and climbs into bed. Her muscles ache as she sinks into the mattress, finally allowing them to relax and after making them carry her through the day. She turns onto her side and stares at the empty space beside her. She pictures Hotch resting his head on the pillow next to hers, smiling and telling her goodnight; what they should’ve been doing last night. Instead, he’d been mutilated on the floor of his home, where he was supposed to feel safe after a day of combatting danger.

She blinks back tears and pushes the thought from her mind. “Hotch is fine,” she whispers, reminding herself. As her eyes fall shut and she allows sleep to finally drag her into its cool embrace, she thinks of Hotch squeezing her hand in the hospital. She thinks of its warmth. It’s enough to promise her a dreamless sleep, and that’s far better than being haunted by nightmares.

Emily wakes with the sun. The golden light streams through the blinds in slats across her bed. She glances at the clock and it reads 6:34 AM. A full 7 hours, that was more sleep than she’d had since before the team left for Canada.

After quickly going through the motions of her morning routine: washing her face, brushing her teeth and hair, and dressing in a comfortable pair of leggings and Hotch’s old FBI Academy sweatshirt, she emerges from her bedroom.

Morgan is still right where she left him, though at some point during the night, he’d stretched the length of his body across the whole of the couch. She stifles a laugh. One leg is dangling off of the couch while one arm is stretched straight out overhead. His mouth hangs open as he cuddles the bulk of the throw blanket against his chest. Silently, she pads across the room to where she left her phone on the kitchen counter. Approaching a sleeping Derek with as little sound as she can muster, she flips open her cell phone and snaps a pic. Derek’s eyes snap open and widen as he immediately sees Emily with the phone in hand.

“Oh hell, no!” he jumps up from the couch but before he can take one step, the throw blanket twists around his ankles effectively tripping him. Those three seconds are enough for Emily to text the photo to Garcia.

“Gimme that phone!” Derek orders as he finally makes it to his feet and tries to wrangle it from her. As he wraps his arms around her from behind, Prentiss can’t help but laugh. “Too late, Morgan. I already sent her the photo of Sleeping Beauty. You know that’s going in the archive.”

Morgan releases her and points a finger at her. “As long as it doesn’t make it into the slideshow at the Christmas party.”

Emily arches an eyebrow and tilts her head back and forth, weighing the likelihood of that. “We’ll have to see about that.”

Morgan laughs and his features soften into a gentle smile. He inclines his head toward her. “It’s good to hear you laugh.”

She feels heat rise to her cheeks, and a small wave of guilt crashes over her. She allows it to do so and then envisions it cresting before rolling gently over a sandy beach. She takes a deep breath and smiles knowing that Hotch would want her to be laughing and joking despite what he’s been through. He’d remind her that Foyet would’ve been there regardless of if she’d come home with him. And she knew that he’d be telling her that he was glad she wasn’t there, because he couldn’t bear to see anything happen to her.

“Thanks for last night,” she says. “I really needed it.”

Morgan waves her off. “Nah, it’s nothing. We’re family, Prentiss.”

“I know,” she says with a smile. “Do you want to grab breakfast or a coffee? I’m going to head back to the hospital and relieve Garcia.”

Morgan claps his hands together, “That shitty diner on 8th?”

Emily moans at the thought of a sausage, egg, and cheese bagel crammed into a plastic red basket overrun by a mountain of red potatoes. “Oh my God, yes. You know, I don’t know what they put in their food, and I don’t think I want to, but damn, a big pile of grease is exactly what I need right now.

Morgan grabs the car keys off the counter and pockets them. “I’m driving.”

•

Derek drops her off at the hospital’s front entrance. He rolls down the window as she circles the car. “Tell Garcia I’m waiting for her.”

Emily’s lips quirk into a half smile. “I’ll be sure to tell her her chariot awaits.” She raises her cup of coffee to him, “Thank you, Derek. For last night.”

He winks, “That’s what family’s for, right?”

She nods and turns toward the hospital. She navigates the twists and turns of the hallways, keeping out of the way of doctors and nurses as they go about their duties. After signing in at the nurses station, she shoulders her purse, picks up both cups of coffee and heads toward Hotch’s room.

“Knock, knock,” she vocalizes, unable to physically knock on the half open door. Using her shoulder, she pushes it open and steps inside.

“Emily!” Garcia greets cheerfully. She sits in a chair near the hospital bed. Her chunky ring-adorned fingers hold knitting needles paused in mid-air, a lengthy scarf made up of maroon fibers hanging down to her ankles.

Her eyebrows knit together as she eyes the scarf. She smiles at her friend. “Been busy?”

“I think I fell asleep to the sound of those needles clacking together,” Hotch says. Emily’s attention shifts to him and her smile widens. The bed is angled, allowing him to rest in a half-seated position. There seems to be more color on his face today and that floods her chest with warmth. Just barely, he inclines his head toward her. “Is one of those for me?”

Emily sucks air through her teeth. “Ooo, sorry. This is for Penelope.”

Garcia perks up. “Yes, please!” she says. “Give that caffeine to mama.” She lays her knitting needles in her lap and holds out her hands, thanking Emily when she passes her the cup.

“Morgan is waiting for you at the entrance.”

A flirtatious grin crosses Penelope’s lips. “My knight in shining armor, come to get me from this extra sanitary antiseptic-rich tower. Someone catch me as I swoon.” She tucks the mass of yarn into her bag and stands. “It’s been a pleasure, sir. I’ll have this scarf waiting for you on your desk when you return.”

As she passes Emily, she gives her a peck on the cheek. “He’s all yours, kitten.” She sashays out of the room, gently shutting the door behind her on the way out.

The room is small and she crosses the short space in a matter of steps. She exhales as she takes the seat previously occupied by Penelope. Hotch flexes his hand as he inches it closer to the bedside and Emily takes it in hers.

“How are you feeling?” he asks, squeezing her hand.

Emily breathes out a short laugh. “Shouldn’t I be asking you that?”

“Well, I feel like I’ve been stabbed nine times, but that’s to be expected. I understand that you almost fainted yesterday.”

“I—” Emily’s mouth clamps shut as she feels the weight of his hard stare on her. “Did Garcia say that? I wouldn’t say I fain—”

“Emily.”

She hates that tone of voice. His supervisory voice. The one he uses to give orders. The one he uses when they’re acting as colleagues, not partners.

She rolls her eyes. “Hotch, don’t give me that look.” She then aims a pointed look of her own towards him. “And you’re not my boss right now. In fact, you’re not even allowed to think about work for the next four to six weeks as far as I’m concerned, so lose the ‘I’m-your-boss’ tone.”

Aaron’s brow arches slightly at her challenge. “Fair enough,” he relents. “You didn’t answer my question though. How are you feeling?”

Emily relaxes as his tone does and gently taps his fingers with her own. “Better than I was yesterday. Morgan took me home. He ordered takeout, I made him watch my favorite chick flick—”

“ How to Lose a Guy in Ten Days?”

Emily’s jaw drops, her open mouth smiling. “You remembered that?”

“I heard you and JJ talking about it on the plane,” he answers, smiling. “I do my best to remember little things like that about everyone,” he inclines his head towards her, “you especially.”

Emily can’t fight the pinkening of her cheeks. “Why do you do that?”

“It reminds me that we’re all individuals beyond the case files; that we’re not just behavior analysts, that we don’t just spend time studying and watching the why’s, what’s, and how’s that make up other people’s lives, but that we have those same qualities about ourselves. That we have hobbies and interests and beliefs outside of the bureau. If I don’t do that, well, I wouldn’t be a very good boss, now would I?”

A small sound of disbelief passes her lips. She’d had the pleasure of scaling the walls that he’d erected to distance himself from others allows him to lead his team from a place free of bias, but hearing him dictate that despite all of that and the image he projects, he is still internalizing all the bits and pieces that make each of them human. That that’s what makes him human.

“Ya know, if the team finds out you’re actually a big softie, you’ll never hear the end of it.” She says.

“Yes,” his lips twitch into a soft smile. “Well, I think they know that and just choose not to say anything about it.” He squeezes her hand again. “I’ll have to thank Morgan. I’m sorry for what you must have gone through.”

Her face falls. “Oh, Aaron don’t. You don’t need to—”

His eyes are hard again as he speaks. “I do. To find me like that after what we’d all gone through together in Canada. It couldn’t have been easy. Your response time was critical. I know you, Emily. I know you immediately had to force yourself into action. I know you had to bury your emotions to see past me; to see past your colleague and partner. And I know that wasn’t easy. I also know you couldn’t tell anyone else because you didn’t want to distract them from the case at hand. I also know that you were willing to sit in the waiting room covered in my blood until you knew I was alright. You did all of this on little food and drink, and even less sleep.”

Emily stares at his hand around hers, unmoving, as he speaks. In her mind’s eyes, the images of yesterday flash in rapid succession: finding him, his face twisted in pain as she applied pressure to the stab wounds, stumbling out of the ambulance as he was whisked out of reach, his blood spiraling down the drain in the hospital’s locker room…

“Emily.” Her name is lighter on his tongue this time; not an order, but a light guiding her back to the present moment. Her eyes focus on him and relief floods throughout her entire body. His hand is warm in hers.

Suddenly, pressure builds in her eyes, the heavy heat that comes before tears. She swallows and when she finds her voice, it wavers, “I was so scared, Aaron.”

“I know.”

“If I hadn’t found you, if you’d di—” Her voice breaks and she swallows the growing lump in her throat. She breathes deeply in a poor attempt to compose herself.

“But I didn’t,” Aaron states firmly. “Emily, I’m alive because you found me. Don’t sit here and torture yourself with ‘what-ifs.’ You know better than that.”

Emily nods and tucks the strands of hair that have fallen from her ponytail behind her ears. “You’re right, I’m just,” she sighs, “I wish there was more that I could do.”

“What you’re doing is already enough,” he says. “And,” he adds, “if the idea of moving my body didn’t make me think I’d physically pass out from the pain, I’d be putting my arms around you so you’d feel comforted and trust that I am so utterly grateful that you chose to go home that night.”

His fingers twitch, but he winces as he tries to lift them off the mattress. Emily reacts immediately and slips her cool slender fingers back into his hand. His are longer, rougher, and curl around hers.

When Emily speaks, her voice is soft. If she speaks any louder she’ll fear it’ll crack and she doesn’t want to cry again. “When they say you can leave here,” she starts and allows her lips to twitch into a whisper of a smile, “Can I come home with you?”

Hotch smiles in turn. “Come here.”

Emily stands and leans down, her bound hair falling just so over her shoulder as she does.

“Closer,” he says and she acquiesces, lowering herself so that her lips are hovering just over his and she can feel his breath on her skin.

His lips are as light as air as he brushes a feather-light kiss against her mouth. It’s all that he can do in his current condition, but the feel of it is enough to melt the icy grief that had been clinging to her these last thirty-six hours, and now it felt as though the sun was shining on her bare skin in this small sterile hospital room.

“My home is your home, Emily. And you’ll always be welcome.”

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