Latest Posts by kinqslcys - Page 2
Garcia: TODAY IS SPEAK NOW TAYLOR’S VERSION DAY!!
Reid: OH MY GOD YOU’RE RIGHT!
Emily: I’m more of a reputation girl.
Morgan: Same.
Rossi: I personally prefer Fearless.
Hotch, singing quietly: Loverrrr.
The rest of the team:
Hotch: Okay, let’s continue debriefing.
THE WAY THIS ENTIRE SONG JUST SCREAMS HOTCHNISS
i live for hotchniss on instagram😭🫶🏼
Stained Glass Windows Instagram - Volume Three
Volume One -x- Volume Two
Hotchniss Instagram posts based on my fic Stained Glass Windows
Some spoilers for the story so far, but these will make sense without reading the fic. Please see the master list for any appropriate tags/warnings.
-x-
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for every "🌹" received in my inbox i'll post one random sentence of a random WIP i'm currently writing
when my wips ask where I'm at:
i didn’t know i needed this, but oh my lord😭🫶🏼
I’M SORRY I’M JUST SWEATING FROM MY EYES
Me reading a really good book: god this makes me wanna write
Me reading a really bad book: ugh this makes me wanna write
Me having coffee: i wanna write
Me going on a drive: i wanna write
Me doing the dishes: i wanna write
Me waking up: i wanna write
Me writing:
hello lovely people🫶🏼 i am now sharing a snippet of a fic i am currently writing, so that i feel pressured to continue writing and will actually finish it 🫣 (below the cut!)
“I, uh, I am planning on proposing to Emily an-“
“Oh, finally,” Jack interrupts, a tinge of exasperation in his voice, “It’s literally been years, dad! Uncle Dave and I were wondering how long it’d still take you..” He mumbles the final part.
Actually, it is the entirety of the team that wonders when Aaron will finally pop the question, their love and affection for the other so clear, it seems like a crime she hasn’t got a ring yet.
#married
bonus:
Painfully Obvious
The partner piece to Imperceptible Movements, where Emily and Aaron are just too painfully obvious.
And the one time that they weren’t.
Read on AO3.
—
Derek
There were some benefits to profiling that Derek has used to his advantage over the course of his career. His experience in criminal psychology translated to simpler psychoanalysis - assessing whether or not his sisters were in a foul mood based on how many times they sighed in one family dinner, choosing his line at the coffee shop based on how disgruntled the cashier was acting that morning, picking his moments to swing by Penelope’s desk with their favorite Thai food when a case hits her closer to home than she would ever admit.
However, there were times where he wished he could stop his initial reflex of dissecting a person’s behavior, instinctually aware of the motivations behind their actions - especially when said person is his partner.
Even more when his said partner is dating their boss.
Keep reading
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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Emily: There’s this guy on my team. He won’t listen, thinks he knows best.
Dave: Oh, you have an Emily.
Aaron: Definitely an Emily.
Emily: What? No. I’d know if he was an Emily.
Aaron: Did he directly disobey an order, and then look at you like you were in the wrong?
Emily:…
Emily: Damn it I have an Emily. I’m so sorry, Aaron.
Aaron: Ah it’s ok. I love you, so you mostly got away with it.
i just know that aaron hotchner is a swiftie. and it is obviously all garcia’s doing. like, it is a hot summer day, he is wearing his sun glasses, hotch glare and all, is on his way to pick jack up from school and blasts The Man on full volume.
meirl
List 1 - #19.
And at this point it’s your birthday but we’re getting preseeeents. I love it.
❤️❤️❤️
Bestie, this ended up getting really soft. Like hella soft. Which I know you love 😉
The prompt is: "You're breathtaking."
-x-
Golden
Words: 1.7k
Warnings: mentions of pregnancy, but mostly just absurdly fluffy.
Read over on Ao3, or below the cut
She never thought she’d have this.
It’s all she can think as she sits on a sun lounger, purposely staying in the shade, so prone to sunburn she didn’t want to risk it. She smiles at the scene in front of her, the beach stretched out in front of her, her family standing just in the water, ankle-deep on her husband. Jack and Aaron each firmly hold the hands of the little girl between them, the toddler screaming in delight as they swing her over each wave.
It felt like the stuff of movies, so achingly normal it seemed far-fetched. A vacation with her family, the one she’d found and cultivated in the most unlikely of places, something she treasured.
She never thought she’d have this.
She sneaks a photo of the three of them, knowing this was something she’d want to revisit, to remember when the days of balancing work and being a mother felt endless. Guilt from feeling like she was failing at both weighing her down, only made lighter by her husband’s reassurances, or a hug from her children. She sends it to the group chat she has with Penelope and JJ, unsurprised when she almost immediately gets a response from both.
Pen: Wow boss-man really does hide a lot under those suits doesn’t he? ;)
Pen: Please don’t tell him I said that.
JJ: Oh look at them, I bet you’re so pleased you went!
Emily smiles as she replies, letting Penelope know she absolutely planned on telling Aaron what she had said, and she sets her phone next to her on the sun lounger. She feels a kick in her stomach and smiles as she looks down, rubbing her hand over her swimsuit covered bump.
“When we come next year you’ll be here with us, sweet boy,” she says softly, her smile widening as she feels another sharp kick, as if he was responding.
A third child had never been part of the plan. It had taken her a long time to fall pregnant with Evelyn, their little Evie. Then the pregnancy itself, and the labour, had been difficult, leaving Emily swearing she’d never do it again, that their family was perfect as it was.
When her period stopped, she was convinced it was the menopause, that it was the end of that part of her life, and she’d felt a certain melancholy she hadn’t expected. Pregnancy hadn’t even crossed her mind when she went to see her doctor to ask about what she should do next. She still remembered the absolute shock she felt when she was told she was pregnant, quickly followed by a rush of happiness, so strong she was almost dizzy with it.
Aaron’s reaction had been similar, smiling at her as he wrapped her up in a hug so tight he lifted her off of the ground.
She looks back up at the sound of her daughter squealing, Evie now wrapped up in her father's arms, her hands grasping at the wet material of the t-shirt Aaron was wearing. She frowns as she notices how Evie is all but clambering higher up her father’s side, as if she was trying to crawl under his skin.
Emily watches as Aaron walks over to her, throwing a comment to Jack at the shoreline, clearly telling him to stay where he was. When he gets closer she can hear him over the commotion of the people around them, the waves crashing against the sand, as he whispers words of comfort to their little girl, Evie’s face screwed up as if she was on the edge of tears.
“Someone wants Mommy,” he says as he makes it to her side, and she sits up, reaching out to gather her daughter into her arms.
“What’s wrong, baby?” Emily asks, holding Evie as close as she can, kissing the top of her head, tasting the salt of the sea air.
“She saw a fish in the sea and it spooked her,” Aaron explains, sitting on the sun lounger next to them, careful not to overbalance it. They exchange a smile over the top of their daughter’s head as she buries her face in her mother’s neck.
Evie liked to pretend she wasn’t scared of anything, that nothing got to her, but underneath her bravado, she was a sensitive little girl. In tune with her emotions and those of everyone around her, always trying to be brave even when there was no need to be.
Aaron often commented he knew exactly where she got it from, and Emily would glare at him, a flush to her cheeks that he would always ignore.
“Oh, sweetheart,” Emily says, turning her attention to Evie, encouraging her to look at her, cupping her cheek to wipe away the tears, “you’re ok, and the fish is meant to be there, it’s where it lives.”
“I don’t like it.” She replies, looking back over at the sea suspiciously.
“Well, why don’t you stay here with me for a bit? I was thinking of having a nap, and Daddy and Jack can carry on having fun in the water.”
Evie considers it for barely a second before she nods, settling back into her mother's side.
“Stay with Momma.”
Emily smiles and looks back at Aaron, briefly looking past him to check Jack was still where he should be, pleased to see him just out of the water, playing with wet sand in a way only a young boy would.
“That settles that then.” She says to her husband, winking at him. She looks him up and down, and notices the wet material of his shirt sticking to his skin, the way he plucked it away from his chest, only for it to immediately re-settle where it had been. He was uncomfortable, and it encourages her to ask the question she’d been thinking about since they arrived just a few days before. “Why don’t you take your t-shirt off, love? You’re clearly warm.”
He stops his movement with his hand and looks at her, a half smile on his face. “It’s fine.”
“Aaron,” She says, readjusting Evie against her, the little girl already falling asleep in her arms, “as much as I personally love watching you parade around the beach in a wet shirt, you’re obviously uncomfortable.”
He smiles at her, “I thought you’d be pleased I’m wearing it, stop all the other women on the beach from trying it on.”
She laughs, “Well, if they do try they’ll have your pregnant and incredibly uncomfortable wife to deal with.”
He chuckles once, void of humour, before he sobers, sighing before he speaks again.
“It’s just the scars, Em,” He admits, shrugging slightly as if he was embarrassed to say it out loud, “people stare sometimes and…”
He drifts off, not even sure what he wants to say and she sighs. She unhooks one of her arms from around Evie and reaches for Aaron’s hand, grateful when he links her fingers with his.
“Honey, they are nothing to be ashamed of.” She says gently, squeezing his hand in hers.
It was something they had comforted each other about countless times over the years. She hadn’t known him without them, and he hadn’t known her without hers. Both of them left with physical marks from their past before they started their lives together. Their history as much a part of them as their future, as the life they had now.
“I know,” he replies, smiling sadly at her, “I just wish I didn’t have to think about it, about him, when I’m at the beach with my family.”
“He’s not part of this Aaron, it’s just you, me and the kids,” she pulls him towards her, pressing her lips against his, “and,” she whispers to him, even though Evie is now fast asleep, “there is no way I’m having sex with you if you have tan lines in the shape of a t-shirt.”
He laughs as he kisses her again before he pulls back shaking his head at her before he removes his hand from hers, already ready to pull his shirt over his head.
“Wait a minute,” he starts, raising an eyebrow at her, “you’ve got your scars covered.”
“Yes,” she replies, settling back down so her back was against the sun lounger, taking Evie with her, “but I am also 6 months pregnant, and my boobs are massive. The only bikinis I have are the ones I took on our honeymoon, and I think if I wore one here you’d have to arrest me for public indecency.”
“You’re breathtaking.”
She hums, trying to fight a smile. “Nice save.” She admires him as he takes his shirt off, placing it amongst their other things, strewn all around her. “Now go play with Jack, he’s dying to get back in the water.”
They both look over at him and see him staring at them, clearly attempting to maintain his usual patience, but a combination of the sun and the fun he was having was getting the better of him.
“You’ll be fine here?” Aaron asks, looking back at her and Evie cuddled up together, the little girl’s face pressed into her mother’s neck.
“We’re fine,” she says, smiling into the kiss he presses against her lips as he stands, “love you.”
“Love you too.”
She watches as he runs back towards Jack, the boy almost bouncing with joy that he was able to get back into the water as his father makes it to his side.
She feels Evie shift next to her, one of her hands coming to rest on her bump as she snuggled in deeper, her mother’s embrace always one of her favourite places to be.
“Baby.” Evie mumbles, her tiny palm tracing over Emily’s swimsuit covered skin.
“Yes, sweet girl,” Emily replies, kissing the top of her head, “your baby brother is in there.”
Evie hums as she falls back asleep, although Emily wasn’t quite sure if she was ever awake. The feel of her daughter pressed up against her, the roll of her son under her skin, and the sound of Jack and Aaron laughing together, an ease to their lives she never thought possible, starts to lull her to sleep herself.
She never thought she’d have this, them, but she was grateful every day that she did.
-x-
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this might just be my most favourite thing 😭🫶🏼
Whatever Tomorrow Brings Instagram - Part 2
Some more insight into the online lives of our favourite chaotic Hotchner family ❤️
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Tag list:
@ssa-sparks, @lukeclvez, @lyds102, @glockleveledatyourcrotch, @hotchnissenthusiast, @danadeservesadrink, @ssamorganhotchner, @emilyprentissisgod, @notagentprentiss, @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, @prentissinred, @ccmattis22
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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)
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.
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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
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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-
Tag list:
@ssa-sparks, @lukeclvez, @lyds102, @glockleveledatyourcrotch, @hotchnissenthusiast, @danadeservesadrink, @ssamorganhotchner, @emilyprentissisgod, @notagentprentiss, @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, @prentissinred, @ccmattiss22
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luke asking penelope out — cm 15.10 and in the end.
hotchniss x glimpse of us ???
i am SO editing that shit now
A compilation of Thomas’s comments about Hotchniss/Paget.
Source: Cameo.com
good intentions, bad execution
part 1/? of my hotchniss future au series
on the hottest day of the year, the last thing emily and aaron want to be doing is picking the kids up early from camp because someone is misbehaving.
rating: suitable for viewers of all ages. warnings: none. wordcount: 4k
read on ao3 read on ff.net
Keep reading
AHHH!! Happy early birthday my friend!! I am so thankful to know you and I throughly enjoy our friendship. Your writing never ceases to amaze me!!
I love you so much. Can I request prompt 5 and 13 from list 1 please? 💕
Ahhh thank you friend!! <3 I love you too, and really enjoy our friendship (and that you'll just accept that I send you tiktoks that call us both out!)
The prompts for this one are:
“Did you call me sweetheart?”/ “Sorry for borrowing your clothes.” “Don’t be, you look great in them.”
Couldn't tell you why, but this immediately screamed Demonology to me, and I know you love some hurt/comfort - so here you go <3
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Tranquility
Words: 2.6k
Warnings: Discussion of abortion
Read over on Ao3, or below the cut
Aaron wants to call her, wants to drive over to her apartment to make sure she’s safe, that she's doing as ok as she can be after the last few days. But he doesn’t think she wants to hear from him, the text he had sent remained unanswered, not even an acknowledgement sent back in his direction.
It had been the first real test of the separation of their personal and their work lives, the first time since they’d started dating after Colorado. The almost physical pain he felt at hearing her getting hurt and not being able to do anything about it made him re-evaluate his feelings for his now girlfriend. It had taken him longer to work up the courage to ask her out than he would have liked, a smile on her face and a “took you long enough” on her lips after he finally cracked after the Viper case. The sight of her in that dress was too much for him to bear.
Aaron couldn’t help but feel that he had failed the test, at least in her eyes. He was by the book, she knew that, that had already bent the rules a little for her anyway, letting her chase a lead over Matthew’s death that he was sure was nothing at first. The sight of her distressed and wet from the rain was hard to take, her usually carefully constructed persona she wore at work like a mask cracked, a bit of the Emily he got to see outside of the office peeking through. He hadn’t been able to reach for her, to hold her like he wanted to, all too aware of their surroundings, no one but the team aware of the shift in their relationship, so he’d done what he could. He had to draw the line somewhere, even for her, even though he’d tear his heart out of his chest if she asked him to.
It was hers to do as she wished with anyway.
He keeps himself busy, doing unnecessary chores around his apartment, his phone in his pocket in case she contacts him. He isn’t sure how long he has been home when there’s a tentative knock on the door. He frowns, wondering who it could be at this late hour, and when he sees it's her through the peephole he almost rips the door off its hinges to let her in.
The sight of her makes his chest ache, she’s upset, clearly not trying to cover it from him. Devastation splashed across her face like a morose painting. She’s clearly soaked to the bone, melting snowflakes in her hair and on her shoulders, a shiver passing through her that he doubts she’s noticed.
What catches his attention the most is the blood just below her nose, dried to her skin, as brightly coloured as her grief.
“Em,” he breathes out, ushering her into his apartment, wincing at the cool, wet, feel of her coat, “you could have used your key.”
He isn’t sure why it’s his first thought, why that is the first thing he says to her, but it makes one corner of her lips twitch in a smile.
“I don’t have anything with me.” She chokes out, and her voice cracks. “I didn’t…I didn’t want to be alone.”
“You can always come here.” He says, undoing her coat buttons and easing it off of her, quickly hooking it up with his, “now, let's warm you up.”
He leads her over to the couch, grabbing the blanket he kept over the back of it as he goes. He remembers the last time she’d been here, only days ago, sat next to him and wrapped up in the same blanket, complaining that just because he was always warm didn’t mean he had to keep his apartment cold. The touch of the fleecy material against his skin brings the memory back to life, like she was permeated in everything in his life, not just on his very being. He sits her down and wraps it around her, making sure it was tight around her shoulders, determined she didn’t lose any more body heat.
“I’ll get the blanket all wet,” she says, her teeth chattering slightly, the cold really settling in now she was indoors, “it will get ruined.”
“I don’t care about that,” he replies, barely taking his eyes off of her as he grabs a paper towel from the kitchen, wetting it under the sink as he joins her again, sitting on the coffee table in front of her, “all I care about is you.”
He half expects a retort, a comment that he had a funny way of showing it, but he knows it won't come. That despite her earlier anger at him she understood the position he was in, that he truly had done all he could for her and more.
He knows Strauss will have something to say when she finds out he’d called the Vatican.
He’s gentle as he reaches out for her, his hand cupping her chin as he reaches out and wipes the blood away from her face.
“Want to talk about it?” He asks, disposing of the paper towel next to him on the table.
“Yes.” She replies, pulling the blanket tighter around herself.
“Ok, we can do that,” his hand slips to cup her cheek, this thumb delicate against her skin, stroking where dimples would show when she smiled at him, “do you want to eat?” She shakes her head in response to that. He nods and he stands up, pressing a kiss to her forehead as he does, taking her hands and encouraging her to stand too. “You go have a shower, ok? I’ll make you some tea, meet you in bed.”
She smiles tightly at him in response, and she leans up to kiss his cheek, her lips cold against his skin, and she moves away towards his bedroom.
Aaron releases a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding as he watches her walk away. He checks the door is locked before he heads to bed for the evening, and brushes past her still soaked coat as he does. He knows it won’t be dry by morning, that despite a number of her belongings making it over to his apartment this was the only outerwear she had here, so he decides to put it in the dryer.
He checks the pockets on the short walk to the laundry room, a habit he had picked up due to Jack often leaving small toys in his pants, and he freezes when he pulls out a folded-up photograph. He unfolds it and is greeted by a picture of a young Emily, a boy on each side of her that he would put money on being Matthew and John. Aaron sighs as he puts the coat in the dryer and turns it on, the photo still in his hand.
His mind whirls with what could have happened, what had made the three happy teenagers in the picture fall apart into whatever mess this last case had been. He sets it aside, making a mental note to wipe the dried blood off of it in the morning, and heads to the kitchen to make her the tea.
He might not be able to stop a teenage Emily from going through whatever clearly had happened, but he would do his best to make sure his Emily, the one currently in his shower, felt better. ___
Despite the hot shower, Emily swears she doesn’t feel any warmer as she steps out of it, immediately folding herself into one of the fluffy towels Aaron kept in the bathroom. She looks at herself in the mirror, wiping away some of the steam to see her own reflection properly, how tired she looked coming across even in the slightly distorted image. She sighs, drying herself off quickly and pulling on a pair of Aaron’s sweatpants and one of his sweatshirts. She had her own clothes her, her own toiletries in his shower, but she needed the extra comfort, the feeling of him wrapping around her.
It’s why she’d used his body wash instead of her own, as if she thought the scent of him on her very skin could undo years of heartache.
She didn’t have to tell him. She knew that. That as her boss he didn’t need to know what had pushed her over the edge with this case, what had driven her usual professionalism away.
But she wanted to tell her boyfriend.
Wanted him to know this deeply guarded part of herself that now the only other person alive who knew it existed was John.
She just hoped he didn’t judge her for it, although Aaron had never given her any belief that he truly would.
She walks out of the bathroom to find him already in bed, on the side designated as his, and he smiles reassuringly at her, his eyebrow raised when he takes in her appearance.
“Sorry for borrowing your clothes,” she says, knowing he liked it. That she could convince him of just about anything sat on one of their kitchen counters wearing nothing but one of his button-downs.
“Don’t be,” he says, pulling the covers down for her to climb in next to him, “you look great in them.”
She gets into bed, immediately snuggling up to his side, the warmth she’d been craving immediately starting to seep from him into her. They silently settle further into the bed, and she ends up with her face pressing into his chest, her arm and leg slung over him as she tries to get as close as possible. He wraps her up in his arms, one slipping under her, both of them on his side of the bed, and the other cupping the back of her head, his fingers tangling in her still wet hair.
“I want to tell you,” she says, her cheek against the thin material of his t-shirt, his heartbeat underneath soothing her, “but I’m worried it might change how you think of me.”
“Nothing could ever do that, Em,” he says, kissing her forehead, “nothing.”
She smiles sadly, not knowing if that was strictly true. Having to physically shake her head to get rid of thoughts of the smell of smoke and danger, both interchangeable to her now, and a pair of ice-blue eyes that haunted nightmares she occasionally had to lie to Aaron about.
This, however, she was sure he was right about.
“When I was…” she starts, having to blow out a shaky breath, closing her eyes briefly to steady herself before she begins again, “when I was 15 my mother got stationed in Rome. That's where I met Matthew and John. I didn’t make friends that easily and with them, it felt different,” she swallows thickly, and focuses on the feeling of his hand in her hair, his fingers delicate against her scalp, “and I so badly wanted to keep what I found that I, well I was 15 so I did just about anything.” She half expects him to interrupt her, to cut her off like Dave had earlier, but he doesn’t. He’s figured it out if the way he tightens his hold on her is anything to go by, but he remains silent, lets her go at her pace. “And I got pregnant.”
Even now she could still remember the choking fear she’d felt when the tests came back positive, the way she’d had to press her hand over her mouth to stop herself from crying too loudly. It felt like it was yesterday, not half her life ago.
“I got an abortion.” She says simply, waiting for a reaction that doesn’t come before she carries on. “Matthew helped me,” she says her fingers playing with a loose thread on Aaron’s shirt, “he found the clinic and everything. Held my hand,” she chuckles mirthlessly, “He saved me and I couldn’t do the same for him. I let him down.”
“Sweetheart,” he says, finally interrupting her, and he kisses her forehead again, “that’s not true. You got justice for him, that’s what matters.”
She nods against him, not sure if she agrees, but she can’t bring herself to look at him yet, not sure what she’ll find in his eyes.
“Was Matthew…”
“The father? No. It was John. He freaked out when I told him. Yelled at me. Said it was my fault.” She feels his arms tighten around her, and she doesn’t have to look up to know he’s scowling. Anger directed toward the man whose life they had just saved. “I stopped being angry about that a long time ago. He was a kid too.”
“He got to walk away though,” Aaron says, his lips against her forehead. He’d walked away then, and he’d do it this time too. As sure a sign as any that Emily needed to know the universe wasn’t fair.
“Yeah,” she breathes out, “he did.”
They lapse into silence again for a moment before he speaks again, a tone she recognises from countless interrogations in his voice.
“I wish you’d told me before,” he says, his hand trailing through her hair, “I would have given Father Silvano five more minutes with him.”
She laughs, the first joy she’d felt in days flooding through her chest, releasing the first knot caused by the news of Matthew’s death. She pulls back and looks up at him, their eyes meeting, and she feels relief. Nothing in his eyes except the love she always saw, the love neither of them had said out loud yet but knew was there. She reaches up to cup his cheek.
“No, you wouldn’t have, because you’re a good man,” she says, her thumb running back and forth over his stubble, the scratch against her skin grounding, “it’s one of the many, many reasons I keep you around.”
He kisses her properly then, his lips warm against hers, and she shifts so they can look at each other properly.
“Thank you for not…well for not judging me.” She says, more of a shake to her voice than she would like. “No one knows except for Matthew and John,” she frowns slightly, “just John now.”
“Your mother?”
She shakes her head. “God no, she would have locked me up in a convent somewhere. I would have been made to give the baby away.” She smiles sadly at him. “It’s not what I wanted.”
He nods in understanding and cups her cheek, making sure she’s looking at him before he speaks.
“You’re the bravest person I know, sweetheart,” he says, stroking her jawline, “even back then. You were 15 years old and you did the only thing she could.”
She smiles shakily at him, and breathes out, the sound catching on a sob, “I’m sorry I made the last few days so difficult.”
He shakes his head at her before leaning his forehead against hers. “Don’t worry about it, I’m just glad you’re ok.”
“You’re here,” she says, her hand reaching out for him, landing at his neck, “of course I am.”
He kisses her, and she wonders if it’s so he doesn’t tell her that he loves her, a pointed effort that she wouldn’t remember it being linked to this. She’s grateful for it, wants it to be something just for them.
They wordlessly settle into their usual sleeping positions, his chest against her back, and she feels the most content she has in days. She replays the conversation over in her head again, his acceptance of her and her past another cornerstone of their relationship that they had built. She furrows her brow slightly, something occurring to her that she had missed before. Another step in the direction she hoped they’d never stop walking, a nickname slipping free from him in a way she didn’t think even he had noticed.
“Aaron?” She asks quietly, wanting to bring some of their usual playfulness back, something she wasn’t sure how she ever lived without.
“Yes, Em?”
“Did you call me sweetheart?”
-x-
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LOOK AT HIM?!!!🥺
He is actually adorable :)