maya

hotchner siblings

wanna dry those tears (M) by @leavemurph chapter 1/1 tags: minor beth clemmons/aaron hotchner, jealousy, love confessions

"Why do you call each other by your work names?" Beth blurts it out mid-movement, one knee slipping over his hip as she climbs across the bed. Hotch catches her by the thigh, steadying her, and she presses her mouth to his neck. He lets his head fall back into the pillow. "Sometimes it's easier than switching, I guess," he says, then kisses her, open-mouthed and brief, before pausing. "Better not to slip and say a first name where it wouldn't be... y'know, wise."

give you my wild, give you a child (T) by lovelessgen chapter 1/1 tags: momily, secret children, hopeful ending

Aaron can still remember how her body felt on the tips of his fingers, his name like a prayer on her lips, her hair like a halo around her head. He doesn't think his body could ever forget, even if his brain were to betray him. He sucks in a breath and she's knows it clicked, "Is she..."  Emily nods, "Yeah. She is."

why don't we trade pieces and make something new (M) by @ssaemilyhotchner chapter 1/2 tags: established relationship, fluff, character study, unconventional format

viii. She fidgets with her necklaces, a means of distracting herself from picking at her nails. He encourages the diverted habit by buying her one with two hanging charms: A for him, J for Jack. He adds an S for Sergio a little while later, after she sends him a selfie of her and the cat sporting identical pouts. ix. She quit smoking at 23. Then again at 35. Most recently at 52. x. She struggles on Mother’s Day. He thinks it’s because of her relationship or lack thereof with the ambassador; but one night, her back to him and her voice slightly muffled by her pillow, she tells him about Rome. 

Signal (G) by @sequinsmile-x chapter 1/1 tags: emotional hurt/comfort, panic attacks, aaron hotchner needs a hug

He drifts off again, entirely unsure how to put it into words. How to explain that he knows deep down that it’s useless, that even in the unlikely event something were to happen on the one night they didn’t have a working alarm system, he couldn’t be sure the front door would be the point of entry.  She cups his cheek, makes him look at her as his eyes drift to the door again, and she nods, “I know. I know, okay? But you won’t help anyone, especially you, by keeping watch all evening. We’ll get some sleep, and tomorrow I’ll threaten the alarm company with every connection I have so they don’t try and cancel on us again.”  It makes him chuckle. It hurts, it sticks on each rib on its way out and tears at his throat, but it’s a laugh, and he knows she’s proud of herself for pulling it out of him. 

Give me just a chance You'll never get away from the sound of the woman that loves you