Emily Prentiss One-Shots

Emily/Hotch**

Title: Hummingbird - microwavebubbles (AO3)

Trigger Warnings:  Choking, Spit Kink, Rough Oral Sex, Anal Play, Hair Pulling

Rating: Explicit 

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Aaron felt stifled in the bar. The loud noises and cloying smoke was making his headache worse. It was Penelope's idea. Of course it had been her idea, dragging them all to a bar to blow off steam, release the nervous tension and energy from a case that ended poorly, all of them disappointed, most of them angry and frustrated.

He sat alone in the corner of the bar, nursing his single drink for the evening, feeling the anger simmer under his skin, every noise in the room rubbing him raw as though they were licking at his nerves. He did not want to be here. But he had refused the last five offers for a beer, and considering Dave was attending he did not feel he could refuse.

He watched his team dance, the way they seemed to blow off steam in excited exclamation and it felt wrong. He was still angry, carrying this case against his chest like a talisman, bitter tasting on his tongue.

Emily was standing at the bar, pretending to get another drink, but really taking a break from the reverie. It was exhausting, pretending that this was what she needed to unwind, that somehow a few beers and sweaty dances were enough to release the pressure in her chest, frustration and fury in equal measure simmering below the surface as though waves were crashing in her skin.

"Having fun?" His voice was smoky and dark from behind her, and she turned gratefully to see him standing there. Emily shrugged as she let out a breath

"Not my chosen method of blowing off steam" She offered, sipping her one cocktail with a practised delicacy.

They had never spoken about it. The stolen hour of madness on the side of the road, scraped knees and spit and fluids and bruises on both of them that took weeks to fade. He sometimes could not reconcile the woman in front of him with the woman naked on her knees in the dirt. He tried to ignore it when she called him sir and he felt his cock twitch.

"What is then?" he asked, his toe nudging the line as he remembered how his hand looked over her throat. The tracks of tears that streamed down her face as she choked on him, begged him for more.

"You know the answer to that" She said, her voice light as she swirled the drink in her glass.

"I don't" he said, carefully, not wanting to overstep.

"Really, you don't remember me on my knees in the dirt for you?" She said, stopping her movements as he met her eyes.

His suit felt tighter, constricting his throat as he watched her lashes flutter, remembered clearly the way they shuddered closed as she came on his hand, his face.

"I remember"

Aarons voice was darker, the growl she remembered vibrating through her skin. She let it hang in the air, watched the tension shudder through his skin and remembered his fist in her shirt, the way the pressure in her body was released as he made her see stars.

"Are you pissed off Aaron?" She asked, turning her chair, her knees bumping his as he stood facing her. Gently she reached to place her palm on his outer leg, trailing upwards toward his crotch. He grabbed her wrist so quickly she didn't see him move.

"Not here." He said, a promise and a threat.

"Where then?" She said, pulling her hand from his grip to palm the outside of his suit pants, she could feel him, half hard and impossibly thick already.