Opening Up My Own Fanfiction Document On My Personal Laptop To See If The Author Has Updated It Yet

the way i love them with all my heart 🫶🏼

Adjustment

Emily can't stop crying after the birth of their son, and Aaron is just trying his best to make it better.

-x-

This is just pure, ridiculous, unadulterated family/domestic fluff. My brain has melted due to the heat, and this is what it came up with. Based off of this photo, and the following prompt I got from an anon for my birthday prompts:

“Not to be drastic, but I would jump off a cliff for you.”

Also, consider this a mini celebration for me hitting 400 followers. Actual celebration fic to follow soon. I love you all very much, and I am constantly blown away by the fact this many of you care enough about my work to follow me. Forever thankful!! <3

-x-

Words: 2.3k

Warnings: non-descriptive mentions of pregnancy/birth, very hormonal postpartum Emily. Very descriptive mentions of Aaron's arms.

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut!

“He’s so small.” 

Aaron looks up from zipping up the duffel bag on his wife's hospital bed, the last of her and their newborn’s things packed away so he could take them home. He smiles at the sight of them together, their son tiny in her arms, her eyes fixed on him. He sits on the edge of the bed and places his hand on Emily’s thigh, smiling when their eyes briefly meet before she looks back down at the infant.

“He’s smaller than Mia was,” Aaron says, thinking of their little girl at home, the almost 3-year-old eagerly looking forward to seeing her mother, her reaction to her little brother somewhat underwhelming, “and I didn’t think that was possible.” 

He looks up from his son to his wife when he hears her sniffle, and isn’t surprised when he sees unshed tears in her eyes, something that had been present almost permanently since the baby had been born. Noah came 5 weeks early, a drawn-out labour in comparison to his sisters, an emergency c-section that had led to him and Emily staying in hospital for a few days. 

She was emotional when Mia was born, but this was different. She cried at almost anything, something the doctors assured them was perfectly normal but that didn’t stop Emily from being frustrated at herself, her anger and her tears an almost constant cycle since Noah’s birth three days prior. 

“Damn it,” Emily says, shifting one hand from under the baby in her arms to wipe at her cheeks, she sniffs again, her lower lip trembling, “I think I’ve cried more in the last few days than I have my entire life.” 

Aaron smiles at her and stands up, kissing her forehead before he gently takes Noah from her arms. He smiles down at his son and kisses his head before he turns to lower him into the car seat, the baby already half asleep. 

“There you go, buddy, you excited to go home?” He asks, checking the straps securing his son into the seat. “Your brother and sister are excited to see you.” 

That, Aaron knew, was half true. Jack was very excited to be a big brother again, a role he took very seriously. Mia, on the other hand, was definitely jealous. It was something that had started to become evident during Emily’s last trimester, the little girl suddenly incredibly clingy with her mother, her somewhat limited understanding of the big change about to come into their lives settling in. When Jessica had brought Jack and Mia to the hospital the day Noah was born she’d shown very little interest in her baby brother, simply laying up against Emily instead, snuggling into her mother’s arms. 

Last night she’d asked Aaron when they were taking Noah back to where they’d got him from. He hadn’t told Emily yet, worried that the very normal sibling jealousy would upset her, deciding it was something he’d tell her when her hormones had settled down a bit more, and were no longer wreaking havoc on her usual ability to control her emotions. 

He lifts the car seat gently, keen to ensure Noah stays asleep, and looks at Emily, sighing softly when he sees the tears on her cheeks again. 

“Sweetheart,” he says gently, “what’s wrong?” 

“You’re such a good dad.” She replies, wiping at her cheeks furiously. 

It was going to be a long few days.

___

Emily considers it a win when she only cries once on the 20 minute car journey from the hospital to their house, the sight of Noah fast asleep in his car seat making her heart twist in her chest. He was so small, impossibly tiny in the newborn sizes onesie Penelope had bought him. The material almost engulfed him, loose around his tiny frame, the tiny bears printed onto it almost mocking Emily as she needlessly rearranged the straps holding her son in place. 

She doesn’t think she’s ever loved Aaron more when he doesn’t say anything about it, his obvious concern limited to his frequent checks on her through the rearview mirror, a small smile on his face whenever he caught sight of her looking at their little boy. 

She’s just about able to keep it together when they get into the house. She feels nothing but relief at the usual sense of comfort settling over her like a warm blanket as she walks through the doors, glad to be home for the first time since she went into early labour. 

“Momma!” 

Emily can’t help but smile at the sight of her daughter running towards her, Jack and Jessica several paces behind her. 

“Hi, sweet girl!” Emily says, grunting slightly when Mia hits her legs at full force, the jolt to her abdomen, pain from her c-section incision briefly pulsing throughout her body. 

“Mia, we talked about this,” Aaron says from behind her, closing the door with one hand, Noah still fast asleep in his car seat in the other, “be careful with Mommy, ok?” 

Emily spots the slight frown on the little girl's face, so much like Aaron when she was upset, and she puts her hand on her daughter's head, internally cursing herself when the feel of her soft hair is enough to make tears press at the back of her eyes. 

She was losing her mind, she was sure of it. 

She looks over her shoulder and at her husband, shaking her head slightly, letting him know he’d deal with it. Jack and Jessica both greet her as they go past, immediately going over to say hi to Noah again, like they both hadn’t held him in the hospital every day since he was born. 

“Don’t worry baby,” Emily says, looking down at Mia, “why don’t we go sit on the couch, huh? We can snuggle there.” 

Mia smiles at her and nods, grabbing her hand and gently tugging her towards the couch. Emily sits down carefully, hyper-aware of the pain in her belly. Mia is next to her immediately, already cuddling into her side. 

“Missed you, Momma.” She says, burrowing herself into Emily as if it had been weeks since she’d seen her, not the matter of hours it had actually been since her visit to the hospital yesterday. 

Emily feels her throat clog up, the emotion that had been overpowering her for days choking her. She leans down and kisses the top of her daughter's head. “I missed you too, so much.”

The others join them in the living room, Jessica having clearly left. Noah was now contently laying in Jack’s arms, the preteen looking ecstatic to hold his baby brother. Aaron sits next to Emily and puts his arm around her, his lips pressed into her temple.

“How are my girls doing?” 

She knew she’d never be able to explain it, why his innocent question immediately makes the tears she’d been attempting to hold back finally fall, but it does. She groans and wipes at her cheeks again.

“We’re fine,” she replies, her shaky voice contradicting her words, “aren’t we Mia?” She looks down at the toddler and the concern she sees in her daughter’s eyes and it makes her chest hurt, adding to the familiar ache in her breasts, a sure sign Noah would need feeding soon.

“Momma sad?” She asks, her tiny hand reaching out for her cheek, the press of her warm skin against her own, combined with the crinkle in her brow that makes her look exactly like Aaron, is enough to tip Emily over the edge.

Her tears immediately turn into sobs, and she turns so her face is turned into Aaron’s shoulder, barely catching the look of shock on her daughter’s face, and the concern on Jack’s. 

“Mommy is fine,” Aaron says, running his hand up and down her arm, “she’s tired after having Noah, that’s all.” 

Emily’s about to interrupt him, to say that she’s sure this is just who she is now. Cursed to cry forever, or until she died of dehydration, when a squalling cry comes from Noah, and she looks up, sniffing and wiping at her face as she does so, to see a concerned look on Jack’s face.

“I didn’t do anything, I swear.” He says, looking down at the infant in horror. 

“Don’t worry, buddy,” Aaron says, standing up, raising an eyebrow at Emily when she tries to, and he eases his youngest out of his eldest’s arms, “he’s probably just hungry.” 

Emily is grateful when she has her son back in her arms, her frayed emotions feeling the tiniest bit placated by it, gently shushing him as he cries, readjusting her clothing so she can start to feed him.

“You’re ok, sweet boy,” she says as she smiles down at him. She feels Mia’s tiny hands grasp onto her shirt, pulling herself up to stand on the couch, her head peering over Emily’s shoulder to look at her brother. Emily meets her daughter’s eyes, “you excited that your brother’s home?” 

Mia scrunches up her nose and shakes her head, “my momma.”

Emily feels Mia’s grip tighten on her, one of her fists shifting into her hair, grasping at it like she hadn’t since she was a baby. 

“I’m his mommy too,” she says, desperately trying to remember what all the books she’d read about parenting had said about jealousy, the memory lost somewhere amongst the exhaustion of having a newborn and the pain of having major surgery, “I love you both, and Jack, very much.” 

Mia looks like she’s considering it before she looks past Emily to Aaron. “We take him back now?” 

___

“She hates him.” 

Aaron stops his pacing to look at her, Noah in his arms, freshly changed and fed, ready to sleep in the bassinet in their room for the first time. 

“Sweetheart,” he says, his voice soft, understanding in the way he reserved for her and their children, “she’s 2. She doesn’t hate him, she’s just adjusting.” 

“She kept saying she wants to take him back,” Emily exclaims, wiping at the tears on her cheeks. 

“Em, love, it’s completely normal. You’re her favourite person in the world, she’s just going to have to get used to sharing you with someone else.” 

She knows he’s right, that everything he’s saying makes sense, but she’s just so tired. Every part of her sore in a way she’d forgotten about since having Mia, nature's way of tricking you into having more children. 

She looks up at him and is taken aback by the sight of him. His sleeves rolled up, Noah held securely against him, the size of Aaron’s watch in comparison to their son almost ridiculous. Noah’s dark eyes were open, Aaron’s attempts to get him to sleep failing so far, his fist tight around the material of his father’s shirt. 

It was enough to make her start crying again. Primal love for the two of them, for their whole family, making her so happy there is no option for it to spill out of her, the now familiar tears flowing down her cheeks.

“You have got to stop.” She says, more annoyance in her voice than she intended, clearly startling Aaron, his brows furrowing as he tilts his head up at her.

“Em-”

“You’re just…I don’t,” she doesn’t know how to put it into words, wiping at her cheeks again, sure that her skin was going to go raw from it, “look at you.” She finally exclaims, waving her hand in his general direction. “He’s just so small, and you look so good holding him,” she sniffs, her voice cracking, “and you’re such a good dad, and a great husband and you have got to stop.” 

“You want me to…stop being a good husband and dad?”

“No.” She says, sighing. “Of course not. I…” she drifts off, growling in frustration at herself, “I want to stop crying. It’s driving me crazy.” 

He does his best to suppress his smile, she’ll give him that, and he walks over, sitting next to her, adjusting their son so he was against his shoulder. She reaches out and offers Noah her finger, smiling when he grasps her, his little fist tight. 

“Sweetheart,” he says, and she looks at him, finding nothing but love and adoration for her in his eyes, “you’ve got to be easier on yourself. You had a baby 3 days ago. Earlier than you should have, and you had major surgery.” He uses the hand not securing their newborn to his chest, his palm almost covering the entirety of his back, to wipe a tear from under her eye. “And you’re still being a fantastic mother to our other children. You’re doing great.” 

She smiles at him, aware of how it trembles, and she nods. “Thank you, you’re the best.” She leans in and kisses him, stamping her lips against his twice in quick succession. “I love you very much.” 

“I love you too,” he replies, smiling at her as he pulls back. “Not to be drastic, but I would jump off a cliff for you.” He says, smiling at her so both dimples are on show, his eyebrow raised to let her know he’s trying to make her smile. 

It usually worked, something he learnt early on in their relationship. That she’d scrunch her nose up and fight a smile when he said something cliche, her cheeks warm as she pretended she hated it. But she stares at him as she feels the now familiar wave of emotion wash over her, her throat tightening with it. A sob escapes her and she covers her mouth in a pointless attempt to muffle it. 

“For fucks sake, Aaron,” she exclaims, watching as his face falls, the smile slipping away, “I only just stopped crying.” 

-x-

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CRIMINAL MINDS 4.20

m's hotchniss masterlist

current hotchniss works :) pls check cw/tw before you read and perhaps maybe you're welcome to request something (i can't promise i'll write it but i'll definitely see it and Think Thoughts)

click here to fill out a form to join my taglist!

fics

doomed | hurt/comfort // healthy communication hotchniss aka emily and aaron have a Talk

twice, three times | angst // hotch mourns losing the second love of his life after losing the first one too

home again | angsty hurt/comfort // emily’s alone in paris missing what she was forced to leave behind

see you later | angsty // emily’s back and hotch leaves for witness protection

not like this | fluff // hotch and emily go undercover as a couple

blurbs

'another nightmare?' | hurt/comfort // emily has a nightmare and hotch is there to help her

‘i still find myself falling asleep with you on my mind’ | angst-ish? // drunk emily calls hotch but they’re exes and hotch is with beth

wips (slash ones i just keep talking about)

illcit affairs // inspired by the song by taylor swift. not finished yet but catch up on the snippets/details here and feel free to send any ideas/feedback!

also sticking this here bc i don’t have another home for it yet…

web weaves

hotchniss + illicit affairs

for every "🌹" received in my inbox i'll post one random sentence of a random WIP i'm currently writing

a little curated collection for @hotchs-bitch

(i hope this is the vibe you were going for, or it gives you inspo for exactly what you wanna do! <3)

i'll never get over how talented she is, her writing is just *chefs kiss*

Happy Birthday! I absolutely love your writing! Could you do number 5 from the first list

Thank you so much!! <3

This prompt was also requested by @kinqslcys so I hope you both like it <3

The prompt is "Did you just call me sweetheart?"

I reworded it slightly to fit the sentence/story to make it work :)

(I know this is a fluff prompt, but it very much turned into hurt/comfort and Aaron whump. I am who I am, ok?!)

To send me a prompt, find the info here!

-x-

Ichor

Words: 2.4k

Warnings: Canon typical violence/injury, frequent mentions of blood, hospitals

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

She hears the gunshot. 

It’s the first sign of trouble since they entered the abandoned building, intel telling them this is where their unsub would be. 

“What the hell was that?” Derek asks, his voice coming down over the earpiece, the same panic in his voice that Emily felt in her chest. 

“I’m just down the hall, I’ll go check,” she replies, “Is everyone ok?” 

She hears responses, Aaron’s noticeably absent, and she feels her heart beat faster in her chest. 

“Does anyone have eyes on Hotch?” She asks desperately, turning the corner into the room she’d heard the shot come from, her answer laid right out in front of her.

The unsub was on the floor, a bullet hole in his chest, and Aaron was slumped against the wall, his hands pressing into his abdomen as blood poured out from beneath his fingers. 

“Aaron’s hurt,” she chokes out, any pretence of being professional immediately out of the window, his first name slipping free like they were at home, curled up on the couch they had argued over in the furniture store when they purchased it, “we need an ambulance.” 

She hears Derek curse over her earpiece, shouting orders about needing a medic, but all of her attention is on Aaron. She lands on her knees by his side, one hand over his on his abdomen, the other cupping his cheek to make him look at her. 

“Hey,” she says, her voice shaky to her own ears, the pain in his eyes ramping her fear up even further, “you’re ok, we’ll get you out of here.” 

“He stabbed me.” He grits out his teeth, and she looks behind him and sees the knife next to the dead unsub. “He got the jump on me.” 

“That's ok,” she says, “everything will be fine.” She feels the blood under their hands and looks down, knowing they needed to do something before the ambulance arrived, far too much blood was already around them for her liking. “We need to get your vest off, so I can put pressure on it properly.” He shakes his head, ready to protest but she cuts him off, “we need to ok, you’re losing too much blood.” 

Aaron stares at her for a long second before he nods, and she kisses him quickly before she undoes the buckles of his vest, good enough to protect him from bullets, but not from the knife laying a few feet away from them. He shouts out in pain as she removes it, and she shushes him, her forehead against his.

“I know baby, I know, I’m so sorry.” Her eyes widen as she pulls back, the sight of the blood against his white shirt making her heart clench in her chest. He groans beneath her as she presses her hands hard into his abdomen, the feel of his blood pouring out beneath her fingers enough to make her stomach twist, a stain she was sure she’d never be rid of. 

“I love you,” he chokes out, his voice strained as his hand reaches out to cup her cheek, his fingers sticky with what she was sure was blood, “so much.”

“I love you too,” she replies, her throat tight, panic taking residence in her chest, “but we’re not doing that, we’re not saying goodbye,” she looks around the room, selfishly grateful for a second that it is still just the two of them, “where the fuck is that ambulance?” She all but shouts into her mic. 

“Morgan is meeting them out front so he can bring them right here,” Dave says, his voice so calm she thinks she’d strangle him if he was in front of her, his ability to keep it together when the man she loved could be dying in her arms too much to take. 

She looks back at Aaron, ready to try and assure him that help was on the way, when she sees his eyes drifting shut. 

“No, no, no, Aaron,” she says, shaking him slightly, “sweetheart, I need you to stay awake,” his eyes meet hers, a faint smile appearing before his eyes drift closed. 

When the medics arrive moments later, Derek in tow, she has to be pulled off of him. 

___

“Em?”

Emily looks up from where her gaze had been fixed on the ground, repeatedly counting tiles to keep her mind occupied, a fruitless attempt to stop the anxiety in her throat from choking her. Her eyes meet JJ’s, a kind smile on her friend's face as she lifts the strap of a bag into Emily’s eye line.

“I got your go-bag from the hotel,” JJ says, placing it in front of her, “I thought you’d want to change.” 

“I’ve got to stay here,” Emily replies, looking back down at the floor, her view of the tiles now blocked by the go-bag Aaron had packed for her, her clothes neatly folded in a way she could never quite achieve herself, “for when the doctor gets back.” 

“Em,” JJ sighs, crouching so Emily had no choice but to look at her, “the doctors said it would be a few hours, your clothes are covered in blood,” Emily can’t help but flinch at that, her eyes darting to the sleeves of her shirt, cursing her earlier self for wearing a light enough colour for it to show on, “I’ll come with you, and the guys will be here. If the doctor comes by, they won’t let him leave until you’re back.” 

Emily looks past JJ to Derek and Dave, who both nod in agreement, and then she looks back at JJ. 

“Ok.” She says, clearing her throat as she stands, her eyes meeting Dave’s “I’ll only be a few minutes.” 

JJ carries her bag for her, and Emily doesn’t reject what she would usually consider coddling, walking alongside her friend in silence as she guides her to the bathroom, her arms tight around herself. Holding herself together until she knew Aaron was ok, until he could do it for her again.

“I’ll wait out here, ok?” JJ says, handing her the bag as they get to the bathroom. Emily just nods in response and hopes that the smile she offers up is thankful.

She immediately walks into a stall, locking the door behind her as she sits down on the toilet, opening the go-bag with shaky hands. She doesn’t look at the t-shirt that once belonged to him, can’t bring herself to as the scent of it hits her nose, and she digs past to her own change of clothes. She changes quickly, grimacing at the slight tint to her skin where her shirt had stuck to her, glued down by his blood. She could still see it on her hands too, the skin bright red from where she’d scrubbed him in a mirrorless bathroom seconds after they arrived. 

She leaves the stall, her bag over her shoulder, and makes a beeline for the trashcan, throwing away clothes she knew she’d never get the stain out of, clothes she could never look at again even if it was possible. The grim pattern of Aaron’s life force forever splattered across it, a memory she would never be able to shake off. 

She washes her hands, and catches sight of herself in the mirror for the first time since they’d arrived at the hospital. She looked ragged, bags under her eyes caused by the stress, her skin pale, fear stripping anything else away. What catches her eye, what stands out against her pallid skin, is a thumbprint on her cheek, painted in Aaron’s blood. She can almost feel his desperate touch as she was trying to keep him awake, as if he was trying to press everything into her skin. A lifetime of love and happiness that might just be stolen from them, washed away like the blood down the drain. 

It burns her, a shadow of how it felt to have his skin pressed up against hers, his warmth ever-present in their home, in their bed. She wonders if when she wipes it off there will be a permanent mark left behind. 

For a moment she’s furious the others didn’t mention it, that they let her sit there with the blood of the man she loves tattooed against her skin, but it’s gone as quickly as it came. Recognition that it was an impossible thing to say, to tell her that what could be the last time he’d touched her was something she’d have to wipe away. She touches her hand to it, shaky fingers over the ghost of his touch, and she knows if she closes her eyes, she’d be able to still feel him there, his affection as familiar to her as breathing. 

She blows out a breath, and comes as close as she has to crying since she found him slumped against the wall. She shakes it off, doesn’t allow the preemptive grief to take over, and she starts the faucet again, washing her face with more force than necessary.

___

It felt like it had been hours since the doctor had come to tell them Aaron had made it through surgery, and asked if anyone would like to see him. 

She’d sent the others back to the hotel, promising that she’d call when there was any news, and stopping any suggestions that she should go with them in its tracks with a stern look. She sits in the chair next to his bed, her back aching from the discomfort of it, her hand firmly gripping his. 

It reminded her too much of a similar situation years ago. The sight of him in a hospital bed, recovering from what Foyet had done to him, the very thing that had made her realise what she felt for him was more than it should have been. Love that she had semi-successfully tampered down for years after that, sure that he could never feel the same way. 

Back then he hadn’t been hers. She couldn’t comfort or help him beyond what she had done, the practical ways he would allow. It’s why she’d driven him everywhere. Taken him to and from work and hospital appointments, forcing him to eat the snacks she’d brought specifically, a white lie on her tongue as she told him they just happened to be in her car. 

He was hers now, and she was his. And it made this worse because she now knew exactly what she would lose if she lost him. It was no longer a fantasy, or hypotheticals she would allow herself in the darkness of her bedroom, it was absolutes. He’d taken up parts of her that she hadn’t known existed, showing her love that she had long ago convinced herself wasn’t real, or at least wasn’t on the cards for her. It was beautiful, raw and real, and she knew one day it would tear her apart. The price for loving someone so completely the grief that had left her guarded for so many years, afraid to feel anything so sharply. 

He was worth it though, what they had built together in the ashes of their old lives was worth it, and if she lost him today, or 30 years from now, she could never regret it.

“Em?” 

She looks up at him, her name accompanied by a slight squeeze of her hand, the usual strength behind it lacking. She feels relief the moment his eyes meet hers, the tears she had been forcing back all evening welling in her eyes.

“Hey you,” she says, offering him a shaky smile as she stands, sitting down on the edge of the bed, lifting his hand so it was clasped between the two of hers, “how are you feeling?” 

“Terrible.” 

She nods at him, sniffing as she moves one of her hands, her knuckles running down his cheek. 

“You lost close to half your blood volume, so I think that's to be expected.” 

He hums, squeezing her hand again. “Are you ok?” 

She chuckles dryly, shaking her head. “Physically, yes. Emotionally? Not at all. But I’ll be ok.” She leans forward and presses her lips to his, a quick thing just as a final reassurance to herself that he was ok, that he’d recover. “I love you.” 

“I love you too, Em.” He smiles at her, his gaze slightly hazy due to the medication in his system. “What did the doctors say?”

“Well,” she says, shifting to look at him a bit better, needlessly rearranging the blanket over him, “the knife knicked your liver, and you lost a hell of a lot of blood, but they said you’ll be fine. It’s a long recovery though.” 

“Nothing I haven’t done before,” he says, his thumb tracing over her hand. “Can I ask you something?” 

“Of course.”

“Did you call me sweetheart earlier?” He asks, a curious smile on his face, “I’m sure I heard you say it.”

She tries to hide her smile by biting her lower lip, but she fails to hold it back. “Yeah, I did.” 

“You’ve never called me that before. Usually, it’s honey, or big-” 

“I was panicking,” she says, cutting him off, aware that the nurse sitting at the desk just outside his room could probably hear everything. She narrows her eyes at him slightly, aware that he was just trying to cheer her up, to bring the usual playfulness they had when they were alone, “and…I don’t know. I like it when you call me sweetheart, it just kind of slipped out.” 

“It’s not a criticism, I like it,” he says, his eyes drifting shut, “I like being your sweetheart.”

She laughs, shaking her head at him. “You’re lucky I love you, otherwise I’d tell Dave you said that.” She presses a kiss against his forehead and settles back into the chair next to his bed. “Get some sleep, I’ll be right here.”

“Love you.”

“You too.”

“You too…”

He drifts off and it takes her a moment to realise what he’s getting at, rolling her eyes despite the fact he can’t see her, his eyes already closed. 

“You too, sweetheart.” 

-x-

Tag list:

@ssa-sparks, @lukeclvez, @lyds102, @glockleveledatyourcrotch, @hotchnissenthusiast, @danadeservesadrink, @ssamorganhotchner, @emilyprentissisgod, @freesiasandfics, @emilyshotchniss, @thecharmingart, @paulitalblond, @hancydrewfan, @camille093, @whitecrossgirl, @moonlight-2-6, @rawr-jess, @florenceremingtonthethird, @jareauswife, @ms-black-a, @sneetchestoo, @aubreyprc, @zipzapboingg, @psychopath-at-heart, @criminalmindsgonewrong, @fionaloover, @kinqslcys

Join my tag list here!

Birthday prompt! List 1, #14. Because I firmly believe that A&E are kissing bandits, constantly sneaking away for anything from a little smooch to a full on makeout sesh in the office/on a case/at the bar/etc. And I don't think they're very stealthy at the 'sneaking' aspect. But do they really care about that? hahaha - SallyAlbright (aka Lindsey) <3

As promised, I made this another part of the Drunken Confessions series. This is a prequel to Tequila Confessions.

The prompt is "one more kiss."

This is silly, hopefully funny and something soft on this Thursday evening!

-x-

Another Round

Words: 3.8k

Warnings: drinking, alcohol, mildly suggestive themes

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

Emily sighs with relief as she places the last case file into the box in front of her. They were packing up, another case solved with the unsub under arrest, all of them weary and ready to go home. The long flight ahead of them was the only thing between the team and their beds. 

“So,” Penelope says, moving to stand next to Emily, her presence in person on the case something Aaron had requested due to the nature of it, “straight back to wedding planning I guess?” 

Emily groans and rolls her eyes as she places the lid on the box, her engagement ring sparkling in the fluorescent lighting of the conference room they had set up in whilst they were in town. She sneaks a look at Aaron, and watches him on the other side of the window, unable to stop herself from smiling whilst he paced back and forth as he spoke on the phone. 

“Don’t remind me,” she replies, half smiling at her friend, “I think my mother has a tracker on me, she always seems to know the moment I’m back in town.” 

“Her assistant emailed me three times about my bridesmaid dress,” JJ adds, walking over to the two of them, “just in case I forgot to go for the final fitting.” 

“Same here,” Penelope says, a small smile on her face.

“If you think that's bad,” Emily says, turning so she is leaning against the table, “you should see all the messages she sent Aaron about his suit. And Jack’s,” she scoffs, “she’s a nightmare.” 

Their gentle teasing dies down as JJ reaches out and touches her arm. “Just two weeks to go Em,” she says encouragingly, “then you and Hotch will be married and this will all be behind you.” 

Emily hums disbelievingly, her hand coming up to play with the chain of her necklace, but any further comment is cut off by Aaron rejoining the room, the whole team turning to look at him as he does. 

“The jet won’t be ready until tomorrow,” he says, his own frustration clear as he briefly catches Emily’s eyes, “so we’re here for another night.” 

There’s a chorus of disbelief, everyone groaning as they pull out their phones, ready to send messages to their loved ones to say they wouldn’t be home as planned. Emily walks over to Aaron, her hand reaching out for his, tangling their fingers so she can get his attention subtly, not visible to any of the local cops outside of the conference room.

“You ok?” She asks, her voice low so only he can hear her. She knew it wasn’t malicious, not something that the others did on purpose, but they rarely seemed to think of his disappointment in these situations. That he was also missing out on something he wanted. 

“Yeah,” he replies, smiling down at her, “I just promised Jack we’d take him out for breakfast tomorrow.” 

She squeezes his hand again, the only affection she could give him here, and smiles at him. 

“We’ll take him for dinner instead, even let him go to that awful themed diner he loves.” 

Aaron beams at her, a light to his eyes that only her and his son got to see, and it makes her stomach flips, plans for their evening in their shared hotel room flooding her brain. 

“Oh my god,” Penelope squeals, making the team, and several police officers outside the conference room jump and reach for their weapons, “I’ve had an amazing idea.” 

“Damn, Baby Girl,” Derek says, blowing out a breath as they all release their hold on their weapons, “you can’t do that around a bunch of cops.” 

“Sorry,” she replies, looking slightly sheepish before turning back to the rest of the room, most of her focus clearly on Aaron and Emily, “since we’re stuck here for the night - why don’t we have a bachelor and bachelorette party for Hotch and Emily?”

“What?”

“Absolutely not.” Aaron and Emily say at once, and Emily can’t help but sigh at the dejected look on Penelope’s face. “Pen, we’ve said we don’t want them.” 

It was a conversation they’d had several times since Aaron proposed. Penelope in particular thought it was a requirement, something that they should do, but Emily didn’t want one, and Aaron didn’t either. He reasoned that he’d had one before, hers was that she felt too old. 

“Oh come on,” Penelope says, all but pouting, “we’re here with nothing to do, we all bring something nice to wear just in case…” she drifts off and stares at them, and Emily notices the others joining in. Twin smirks on Derek and Dave’s faces, whilst JJ smothered her laughter behind her hand, Spencer looking mostly uninterested behind them all.

Emily looks up at Aaron, and their eyes meet, a silent conversation as he squeezes her hand gently. She sighs and looks back to Penelope, rolling her eyes as she does so. 

“Fine,” she says, raising an eyebrow when her friend squeals in response, “but we’re doing a joint thing,” she adds, leaning further into Aaron’s side, all thoughts of hiding from the cops they’d inevitably see in bars later long forgotten. 

Despite the fact they shared a room on cases, they barely had time to just be them, and she really just wanted to spend the evening with her fiancee. Even if that meant going to a bar with the whole team, when what she really wanted to do was go to the hotel, have sex with Aaron, and then fall asleep. 

Penelope looks like she’s about to argue, but Derek must pinch her side, because she sharply turns her head to look at him, an outraged look on her face giving way to understanding. 

“Ok, it sounds like we’re having a party.” 

___

“Why do I let Pen talk me into this stuff?” Emily gripes, reaching behind herself to try and zip up her dress, making a disgruntled noise when she doesn’t quite manage it. 

Aaron looks over from where he is standing, readjusting the rolled up sleeves of his dress shirt, and he smiles, walking over to her and placing a hand on the small of her back. 

“Garcia could convince anyone of anything, sweetheart. Don’t beat yourself up over it.” 

She drops her arms to her sides and lets him pull the zipper up on her dress, a shaky breath leaving her as he leans forward and places a kiss where her dress ends, his lips between her shoulder blades. She turns and raises an eyebrow at him, her arms hooking around his neck as his band around her waist.

“Don’t start something you don’t have time to finish,” she complains, kissing him quickly, stealing the breath from his lungs. He pulls back from her, an adoring glint in his eyes as he looks her up and down.

“You look beautiful,” he says, his gaze drifting downwards, leaving her skin burning for him as he not so subtly appraises her. He reaches out and touches her necklace, the metal of the two rings settled there warm from where they had laid between her breasts all day. “You probably can’t wear this.” 

She scrunches her nose up at him. “But I don’t want to take it off.” 

He kisses the tip of her nose and turns her, his hands at her shoulders before he undoes the chain, doing the clasp back up as he lays it on top of the vanity they are standing near, their wedding rings clinking together. 

“Just a couple of weeks and we can actually wear them.” 

She turns to look at him, picking at invisible bits of lint on his shirt. “This whole eloping in secret thing isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.” 

He palms her waist, pulling her closer. “It means I can already call you my wife,” he says kissing her firmly, his breath skirting across her lips as he pulls back, “it makes all the secret keeping worth it.” 

It had been spur of the moment, a decision made borne out of frustration at her mother, the way she was losing control of what was meant to be one of the most important days of her life. Aaron had come home to find her crying, angrily wiping tears away from her cheeks as she drank a glass of wine and complained that all she wanted to do was to be married to him. That the rest of it didn’t even matter to her. 

It was Aaron who suggested it. Emily initially laughed his idea off, something about the two of them just going and getting married seeming absurd, but when she realised he was serious she immediately agreed. 

A month before the wedding they’d spent the vast majority of the previous 6 months planning, they went down to the court house to get married, just the two of them and Jack. The little boy had been delighted to be in on the secret, a smile and a wink thrown Emily’s way whenever Elizabeth visited to speak about the wedding. 

They were still having the big day, still having a ceremony in front of everyone they’d invited, but they’d had their moment for just them, their family. And it was perfect. 

She smiles, nodding in agreement as she leans forward to kiss him again. 

“We should go, otherwise Pen might break in here and force us out.” 

___

They don’t eat, instead heading straight to a bar. Later, Emily would realise that was the first mistake. 

She’s already several tequila shots down, Aaron draining his third measure of scotch just for Dave to immediately pass him another one, when Penelope smiles widely at her as she passes over a very garish gold sash that had ‘bachelorette’ emblazoned on it, 

“Absolutely not,” she says immediately, turning her nose up at it, shooting Derek a glare when he laughs at her. 

“Oh come on, Peaches,” Penelope replies, imploring her, “JJ already talked me out of the crown.” 

Emily looks at JJ who nods, smiling around her glass as she takes a sip of her drink, and she turns back to Penelope, staring at her for a second before rolling her eyes, taking the sash from her as she grumbles. 

“Do you just carry this everywhere with you or something?” 

Aaron bats her hands away as he pins it together for her, his hand lingering longer than necessary at her hip, fingers digging into her side. She smiles at him, grasping his chin as he straightens up to pull him in for a kiss, the taste of scotch on his tongue making her groan. 

“Do you guys really have to do that?” Derek asks, and they pull away from each other, Aaron’s arm settling around her waist. 

Emily raises an eyebrow at him. “You guys wanted us to throw us a bachelor and bachelorette party, you have to live with the consequences.” 

“I always forget how…affectionate you are when you’ve been drinking.” Dave jokes, raising an eyebrow at the couple.

“Your guest bathroom certainly hasn’t forgotten,” Emily mutters as she takes a sip of her beer, almost choking on her laughter when Aaron squeezes her against him at the same time Derek and Spencer scrunch their faces up in disgust. 

“I knew it.” Dave exclaims, looking around the group with a smirk on his face. “Why do you think I locked all of them bar the tiny one downstairs last time you all came over.”

“If you think that stopped me you really don’t know me at all,” Emily replies, taking satisfaction out of the look on Dave’s face. She watches it click, the memory of finding the two of them in his kitchen after they’d disappeared for a while, a flush to their cheeks he’d clearly put down to the alcohol at the time.

“Not my marble countertops.” 

Emily laughs, and JJ and Penelope join in, neither of them looking shocked enough for Aaron’s liking. He groans next to her, shaking his head as he accepts another scotch from a sheepish JJ, and he wonders how much of his sex life his wife has made her friends privy to. 

“Emily.”

___

She giggles, something even she can’t deny, when he pushes her up against a wall, his lips immediately descending onto hers. 

They’d been drinking for hours, the team getting progressively louder, drawing attention from some of the cops they’d worked with for almost a week. Emily and Aaron had snuck off, in a bid to buy some alone time, and found themselves in the mostly abandoned hallway on the way to the bathrooms. 

Emily moans as Aaron pulls her closer, his arm between her and the wall she’s pressed against, her body flush against his. 

“Bathroom?” She asks hopefully, her lips still close enough that they brush his, he kisses her again briefly before pulling away. 

“We’ll head back to the hotel soon, sweetheart,” he says, his hands still grasping at her, clearly unable to get enough of her despite her words. “Wouldn’t want this to end up being another story you tell at girl's night.” 

Emily has the decency to look a little embarrassed, biting her lower lip as she looks at him, fluttering her long lashes in an attempt to get her way. 

“Pen gave me tequila, it’s a truth serum, honey. What was I supposed to do?” 

He smiles down at her adoringly, kissing her fiercely again. “Maybe not tell everyone we had sex in Dave’s kitchen.” 

“If he bills us for any kind of deep clean, I’m telling him what we did in his home office.” 

Aaron chokes out a laugh and shakes his head at her, this beautiful, impossible woman in his arms.

“I love you so much,” he says, cupping her face in his palm, “I can’t wait to marry you again in a couple of weeks.” 

She beams at the comment, happiness flowing off of her in a way she couldn’t control. Alcohol always brought this out in him, the compliments and affection usually reserved for their home escaping him at any moment, no longer able to hold it back.

“I can’t wait to marry you again either.” 

She kisses him, her hands buried in his hair as she pulls him closer, and she’s just about to drag him towards one of the bathrooms, convinced she’s won against his self control when she hears the clearing of a throat. 

She pulls herself away from Aaron to see Penelope standing next to them, on her way back from the bathroom, a slightly glassy look in her eyes and a smile on her face.

“Are you both having fun?”

Emily rolls her eyes at her friend and detaches herself from Aaron. “Yes, Pen. We are. You owe me another drink,” she links her arm with Penelope before she turns to look at Aaron, still rooted to the spot, “You coming?” 

“He was about to.” Penelope attempts to whisper, the alcohol making her louder than she intended. Emily smothers a laugh but squeezes at her friend's arm to stop her from saying anything else, not too drunk that she doesn’t miss the pink tinge to her husband's ears. 

“Just heading to the bathroom,” he says, clearing his throat, “I’ll be back out in a couple of minutes.” 

Emily nods and turns towards the bar, dragging Penelope with her. They stumble slightly, but regain their footing, laughing as they look at each other. 

“What?” Emily asks, her friend's smile making her uncharacteristically shy. 

“You just seem happy, that's all.” 

Emily smiles, her cheeks aching with it. “I am happy.” 

“You deserve it,” Penelope says as they get back to the table surrounded by the others, immediately handing her a shot, “you both do.”

“Thanks, Pen,” Emily replies, clinking her shot glass against hers before drinking the shot, relishing in the burn against the back of her throat. 

She’s laughing with Penelope and JJ, the liquor making them all giddier than normal, when Derek taps Emily on the shoulder, a smirk on his face when he points past them all, bringing her attention to where Aaron was standing. 

He look uncomfortable, his hands stuffed into his pockets as he looked towards the group, his eye meeting hers, as the woman standing next to him grabbed his arm, squeezing at his tricep. 

“Oh, she better take her hands off my husband before I remove them for her.” She says, jealousy surging her forward towards the pair. 

The rest of the team watches as she makes it over, her arms wrapping around Aaron as she makes it very clear they are together, a fake, sweet smile on her face. 

Derek frowns in confusion, turning to look at the others. “Did she say husband?”

___

The first thing Emily is aware of when she wakes up is how dry her mouth feels, closely followed by the pounding in her head. 

She groans, and feels more than she hears Aaron chuckle against her. She opens her eyes, blinking against the bright light of the room and takes in her surroundings. She was on top of the covers in their hotel bed, and completely naked. Aaron was too if the feel of him pressed against her back was anything to go by. 

“Morning, love,” he says, his own voice rough. She turns in his arms, grimacing as she does, and snuggles into his chest.

“I feel like shit.” 

He kisses the top of her head. “Me too, you’ve got to give it to Garcia, she knows how to throw an impromptu bachelor and bachelorette party.” Emily pulls back to look at him, smiling despite her hangover.

 “She does.” She leans in and kisses him, grimacing as she pulls back. “Your breath sucks.” 

“Your’s isn’t exactly great,” he quips, smiling down at her. “We should get up, we need to be at the jet in an hour.”

She holds him a little tighter when he pulls away, and he raises an eyebrow at her. 

“One more kiss? Then I’ll get up.” She asks, leaning closer to him.

“I thought my breath sucked.” 

She hums, pressing her lips into his, the kiss lost in her smile. “I can put up with it.” 

She protests when he finally forces her out of bed, and she rubs the final bits of sleep from her eyes as she looks around the room. Their clothes were strewn everywhere, the sash Penelope had forced her to wear the night before torn in two. She smiles at the flashes of memory of Aaron tearing it off of her when they got back to the hotel in the early hours of the morning. She stretches as she walks to the bathroom, and she stops as she looks at herself in the mirror, sighing as she shouts back into the bedroom. 

“For fuck sake, Aaron.” 

She was too hungover to care about covering the giant hickey he had left on her neck, but she wasn’t about to let him get away with it. ___

She’s proud of herself for not throwing up on the way to the jet, her stomach saved by Aaron doing the short drive via the Mcdonald's drive-thru, buying her hashbrowns and Diet Coke without her asking. 

It means they are the last to the jet, the atmosphere quieter than usual, something she puts down to everyone being worse for wear. She sits next to Aaron, the two of them opposite Dave and Spencer at the table, and immediately rests her head on his shoulder. 

It’s only after they have taken off, her profiling skills not dulled by the alcohol she was sure still thrummed through her veins, that she breaks, no longer able to take the not so subtle looks thrown their way. 

“What’s going on?” She asks, looking between Dave and Spencer opposite them, and the others bunched together on the couch seat. 

“Nothing.”

“What makes you think something is wrong.” 

They all say in unison, and it makes her roll her eyes. “Come on, what is it?” She looks at Spencer, knowing he’ll be the one to break first. 

“We know you’re already married.” He says, looking down at the table between them to avoid her eye contact. 

She blames the hangover, and the fact she was still a little drunk, on her inability to cover her reaction. 

“What? How do you know that?” She exclaims, looking at Aaron and hitting him lightly on his arm. “Damn it, Aaron-”

“Actually, Princess,” Derek says, the sunglasses he was wearing the only visible sign of how he was feeling, “You were the one who spilt the beans,” he smirks at her, “Baby Girl looked it up this morning,” he says, tilting his head towards Penelope who quickly smiles at Emily before looking away, “found the marriage certificate online.” 

“You were saying?” Aaron remarks, his eyebrow raised at her as she looks back at him, a slightly sheepish look on her face.

“Shut up. You have to be nice to me, I’m your wife.” 

“Why didn’t you tell us?” JJ asks, looking slightly hurt.

Emily sighs, grateful when Aaron places his hand on her thigh, squeezing at her leg before she places her hand over his, linking their fingers together.

“It was all getting too stressful, and it started to not be fun for me,” she says honestly, “and we talked about it, and we wanted something just for us,” she looks at Aaron briefly, exchanging a smile with him before she looked back at the group, “so we went down to city hall, and got married with just Jack there.” 

She looks around her friends, and watches as slight annoyance, frustration at them, fades into understanding. 

“And we’re still going ahead with the wedding in a couple of weeks,” Aaron says, taking over the explanation, “so you’ll all still be able to get drunk on our dime.” 

“Thank God,” Dave deadpans, “I think last night almost bankrupted me.” 

“Shut the fuck up, Dave,” Emily says, glowering at him as he smirks at her. 

“I do have one question though,” Spencer says, his eyebrows creased in the way they always did when he was confused, “if you’re already legally married, what are you going to do on your actual wedding day?”

Emily frowns at him, her usual patience for his nonsense left somewhere between her 7th and 8th tequila shot the night before. 

“What do you mean Spence?”

“Well, if you meant to keep it a secret, your mother doesn’t know right?” He asks, and she shakes her head, immediately regretting the movement as he carries on, “Well, surely she’ll notice when the officiant doesn’t make you sign the marriage certificate.” 

“Well…” She drifts off, looking up at Aaron who, judging by the look on his face, clearly also hadn’t thought about that. “Shit.” 

-x-

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Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x BAU!Reader

Word count: 478

Warnings: none

Summary: You try to cheer Aaron up after a case.

This is my first try writing someone x reader, so this is definitely improvement worthy. Feedback is always appreciated!

You had just come back from a case this morning, the amount of paperwork on this one higher than usual. The outcome was good, all children have been saved, but the thoughts of what would have happened to them if they hadn’t found the unsub as fast as they did, plagued the team.

It’s time for your lunch break now and everyone is sitting at their desks, wanting nothing more than to finish their reports as soon as possible. You look up to your boss’s office. The blinds are open, but the door is closed, and you see him going over his paperwork too, signature frown on his face. The two of you get along well, occasionally getting the other a coffee or spending lunch breaks together. As you study him from your desk, you think about wanting to cheer him up and get his mind off of this case, at least for a bit. And admittedly, you wanted to get your mind off of it, too.

So, you grab your purse and head out the doors to the BAU to get some lunch, knowing he would not take a break if you didn’t force him to. You’re back with takeout from his favorite place near the building of the FBI about 10 minutes later and go straight to his office. If the others noticed you ignoring your desk and knocking on your boss’ door, they don’t say anything.

He invites you in, not looking up from the case files in front of him. “Hey,“ you say softly and he looks up at that, a hint of a smile on his face as he sees you standing in his doorway with a bag of takeout. “I thought we could both do with a short break. Have some lunch.“

He motions to his couch as his lips curve up in an appreciating smile, standing up and sitting down on the couch himself. Aaron Hotchner is a reserved person, but around you, he usually talks more. So, you talk about something you know he likes to talk about.

“Have you talked to Jack yet?“

He nods.

“How is he,“ you ask as you unpack your lunch. That is what gets him answering. The ice that usually doesn’t exist around you two has been broken.

You talk, eat and share a few laughs. From talking about Jack’s plans to go to the zoo this weekend to the latest gossip around the building, you talk about anything for almost close to an hour, your lunch breaks longer than they should be. You both notice the time and start cleaning up, throwing your empty containers away.

“You okay,“ you ask him as you stand before him, your back to the door.

“Yeah, I’m better now,“ he answers honestly reaching out to squeeze your hand. “Thank you.“

You pull him into a hug, “Anytime.“