#was this a subtle hint towards Reid going to Morgan for comfort instead of JJ? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mccdreamys-writes · 8 days

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smiles for miles – 24. forty-five-and-a-half

we can let them wonder; everyone thinks they know the truth. - Keaton Simons, Nobody Knows

N O V E M B E R 9 T H 2 0 1 1

For the past three days, life had been a whirlwind since I brought Maile to live with me. It felt like a major milestone, almost as significant as the day I decided to reconnect with her after our past parted ways.

As I walked into the office, Reid greeted me warmly. "Hey, Alex! Welcome back."

I had deliberately taken three days off, fully dedicating myself to being with Maile. Every moment was spent getting to know her better, studying her habits and idiosyncrasies. It might sound a bit voyeuristic, but my aim was to truly get to know her, all of her.

I couldn't help but notice how she cradled her glass with both hands, a gesture that echoed innocence, like a child holding onto something precious. And the way she drank, taking small, deliberate sips instead of the usual gulps, was incredibly charming.

"It's good to be back," I replied, my words filled with genuine warmth.

As I made my way over to my desk, I spotted Morgan, JJ, and Garcia already there, their laughter and chatter filling the air. It was like they had their own little bubble of camaraderie, and privacy was nowhere to be found.

"Hey, hey, turtledove," Morgan greeted me with a grin, mischief dancing in his eyes.

Finding my desk occupied, I settled for perching on the edge of Reid's desk, joining the lively group.

"Come on, spill the beans," Garcia urged, leaning forward eagerly. "Did anything juicy happen while you were away?"

Yep, privacy wasn't exactly on the menu. But in the midst of all the banter and teasing, there was a comforting sense of belonging with my team. I knew behind their playful jests lay unwavering support.

Putting on a facade of innocence to mask my racing thoughts, I casually asked, "What should have happened?" It wasn't just a casual inquiry; it was a subtle way to gain more understanding in what they wanted to know.

But before anyone could respond, Hotch briskly walked past us, his expression serious and focused. The file in his hand hinted at the urgency of the situation. "Four homicides in Colorado Springs," he announced, his voice carrying the weight of responsibility as he headed towards the conference room.

After we hashed out every detail of the case in the conference room and combed through it again on the plane, we found ourselves with a solid three hours of travel time left before landing at our destination.

During this downtime, the three youngest members of our team wasted no time in bombarding me with questions. They were like eager detectives, hungry for every scrap of information. But I managed to dance around their inquiries that tiptoed into personal territory, skillfully deflecting without giving too much away.

Meanwhile, Hotch and Rossi remained focused as ever, absorbed in their own tasks and discussions. Their quiet efficiency stood in stark contrast to the lively chatter that surrounded them.

Morgan's question hung in the air, wrapped in a mix of curiosity and mischief. His playful yet persistent tone hinted at the burning desire to know more. "So you were going to tell us what happened between the two of you," he prodded, his eyes sharp with anticipation.

With a subtle shake of my head, I pushed back gently against the inquiry. "No," I responded, a wry smile dancing on my lips as I sought to maintain a sense of mystery. "You simply asked me 'if' something had happened. I never said anything had." Despite my attempt to deflect, I couldn't suppress a flicker of amusement at the exchange.

But JJ, always quick to pick up on things, chimed in with a knowing grin. "Oh, come on. Your face says it all," she teased, adding a playful twist to the conversation. "Something definitely happened."

"And what would that be?" I inquired, raising an eyebrow at the mysterious exchange unfolding before me, eager to hear their theories.

Their eyes met, passing silent messages like telegrams filled with hidden secrets. Morgan leaned in, whispering something to Reid, his words veiled in secrecy. Reid, in turn, shared the confidential message with JJ, their heads close together in a secretive huddle. As they murmured among themselves, I watched, anticipation growing, wondering what bombshell would come from their covert conversation.

Finally, they broke from their huddle, faces displaying newfound determination, tinged with mischief. With a playful nudge from JJ, Reid stepped forward, ready to deliver their collective conclusion.

"Alright," he began, voice laced with mischief. "After some intense deliberation and analysis of all the facts, we, well, mainly these two," he gestured towards Morgan and JJ with a sly grin, "have come to the conclusion that there must have been... some form of coitus."

I nearly choked on my drink, caught off guard by Reid's bombshell. "And how did you arrive at that conclusion?" I managed to splutter, disbelief evident in my voice.

Once again, my coworkers gathered closely, heads bent as if sharing some secret scheme. Reid stepped forward, taking on the role of spokesperson with a mix of amusement and a hint of embarrassment.

"Considering you two have been living together for three days," Reid began, his words cautious, "it's possible you've had some... opportunities." He shot me a knowing glance before adding, "And Alex, it's been a long time since you were last with someone."

His words hit me like a sucker punch, making me cough on my drink. Morgan nudged Reid forward, silently signaling him to get to the point.

"Yeah, yeah," Reid said to Morgan before turning to me. "And let's not forget, you two are head over heels for each other, like a couple of horny teenage boys ready to jump at anything that moves."

I stayed silent, refusing to give their comments any acknowledgment. Frustration hung heavy in the air as I got up from my seat and moved to the far end of the plane. There, I sought refuge in the quiet corner, determined to distance myself from their teasing and gossip that seemed to fill the cabin.

N O V E M B E R 1 0 T H 2 0 1 1

In a remarkable show of teamwork and clever thinking, we cracked the case in just two days. It was a real testament to our skills and dedication. But even as we celebrated our success, I knew better than to get too comfortable. Experience had taught me that triumphs often meant tougher challenges ahead. So, despite our recent win streak, I braced myself for whatever tough case might come next, knowing it could drag on for weeks, testing our patience and brainpower.

As the clock struck 9 PM, signaling the end of another long day, the office buzz quieted down. My desk was buried under a mountain of paperwork that seemed to grow by the minute. Looking around, I noticed the usually bustling office was strangely empty. It was just me and Reid, his presence standing out in the deserted workspace. It was unusual, and I couldn't help but wonder where everyone else was.

"Hey Reid, do you know—" I started, but he cut me off, seamlessly blending the end of my sentence into his response.

"Blake, could you hand in my case report?" His voice was urgent as he dropped a stack of papers on my desk and dashed off before I could even react.

"Yeah, sure," I muttered, though inwardly, I felt a twinge of annoyance at being saddled with yet another task. It seemed like the endless pile of work was something I couldn't escape, no matter how much I wanted to.

As I weaved through the office, dodging desks and cubicles, the weight of the reports in my arms felt heavier with each step. It was like the air itself was conspiring to make my burden even heavier.

Approaching Hotch's office, I was stopped before I could even knock. Hotch stood in the doorway, his expression as unreadable as ever, his demeanor as solid as the walls around us.

"You can take those to Strauss," he said, his tone leaving no room for argument as he handed me another stack of reports. "She wants to review them herself."

I nodded silently, frustration bubbling beneath the surface as I thought about the endless stream of tasks waiting for me. Duty called, and I had no choice but to answer.

Turning on my heel, I headed towards Erin's office. We had a history. There was a time when our connection hinted at something more, a potential for romance lingering on the edge of our professional partnership. But that fragile thread snapped when Erin betrayed my trust, leaving me to fend for myself during a critical moment in one of our cases.

As I stepped into Erin's office, I found her deeply immersed in scrutinizing case files, her brow creased with concentration. "Thought I'd add to your stack," I quipped lightly, placing the files on her cluttered desk.

She looked up, exhaustion evident in her face, and gave a brief nod of thanks. "Appreciate it."

I hesitated, ready to leave, but her next question caught me off guard. "How are you holding up, Alex? After everything?" I assured her, hiding any vulnerability behind a calm facade.

"I'm heading home to her right after this," I announced firmly, turning to leave without waiting for a response. "Take care." I glanced back briefly before stepping out of her office.

With a renewed sense of purpose, I felt anticipation building inside me. Home was calling, and I was eager to embrace it with open arms.

Feeling utterly drained yet excited to finally reach the comfort of my home, I trudged up the familiar path leading to our house, my bag hanging heavily from my shoulder. Despite the fatigue weighing me down, the thought of reuniting with my favorite person pushed me onward with a newfound determination.

"Hey, I'm back!" I called out as I pushed open the door, anticipating Maile's cheerful response. But to my surprise, the house was eerily quiet, a stark contrast to the lively atmosphere I had expected.

"Maile?" I called again, venturing further inside, a sense of unease settling over me as I scanned the rooms for any sign of her. Then, I spotted the colorful balloons scattered throughout the house, hinting at Maile's activities during my absence.

Intrigued yet cautious, I continued exploring, unsure of what surprise awaited me. Suddenly, Maile's voice rang out, breaking the silence and making me jump in surprise. As I turned the corner, I was met with an unexpected sight.

The room was filled with the cheerful chatter of my entire team, each one wearing festive party hats that Maile must have persuaded them to don. Even Hotch, known for his serious demeanor, couldn't hide the hint of a smile as he joined in the festive celebration.

I stood there, eyes wide with disbelief, taking in the scene unfolding before me. The table was piled high with delicious snacks and refreshing drinks, all meticulously arranged by Maile. Balloons of different sizes hung from the ceiling, forming the numbers '45 ½' in a playful nod to the occasion.

Baffled by the unexpected celebration, I couldn't help but ask, "What's this?" My voice held a mix of surprise and genuine curiosity.

Maile beamed with warmth as she approached, gently taking the weight off my shoulders and guiding me towards the gathering. "We're celebrating," she exclaimed, her enthusiasm infectious as she led me into the midst of our friends.

Confused but intrigued, I looked around at the smiling faces, each one filled with excitement and anticipation. "But what are we celebrating?" I pressed, my curiosity piqued by the mystery that surrounded the occasion.

Maile's smile widened as she explained the reason behind the surprise party. "I couldn't be there for your 45th birthday, or for many before," she confessed, her words carrying a heartfelt sincerity that touched my soul. "And I thought you deserved a celebration. So, we are celebrating your 45-and-a-half-th birthday, which just so happens to be today."

A soft chuckle escaped me as I soaked in Maile's thoughtful gesture. "My 45-and-a-half birthday, huh?" I mused, feeling a surge of affection for her. It was moments like these that reminded me of just how wonderful she was, her creativity and kindness never failing to warm my heart.

"Absolutely," she affirmed with a playful glint in her eye. "I couldn't let such a milestone pass, now could I?" Her words were filled with joy, echoing the festive atmosphere that surrounded us.

A rush of laughter bubbled up from deep within me, spilling out in waves of pure joy as I leaned in to share the moment with Maile. Pulling her close, I wrapped her in a tender embrace, feeling the warmth of her against me as I pressed my lips to hers in a sweet, gentle kiss. In that fleeting moment, amidst the laughter and celebration, I felt a swell of emotion rising within me.

It wasn't just any kiss; it was a milestone, a symbol of how far we'd come together. Sharing that kiss openly, in front of our friends, felt like a true achievement—a testament to our journey and the newfound freedom and authenticity we'd discovered in our relationship.

Though my team already knew about us, their reactions were filled with genuine excitement and happiness, as if they were witnessing our love unfold for the very first time. Their collective gasps and cheers filled the room, creating an atmosphere of warmth and camaraderie that surrounded us all.

In that moment, I was reminded of the unwavering support and friendship I found in each of them. They were more than just colleagues; they were my true cheerleaders, always ready to lift each other up and celebrate life's milestones together. It was moments like these that made me grateful for the bond we shared, a bond that went beyond work and touched the depths of our hearts.

"Time for cake!" Maile's suggestion of diving into a sweet treat was met with a gentle reminder from me about the late hour. Glancing at my watch, I couldn't help but feel a twinge of concern as I noted the time.

"It's almost 10 PM," I remarked, subtly expressing my hesitation about indulging in cake so late.

But Garcia, always one to champion the joys of life, quickly dismissed any worries. "Who cares about the time? Cake is always a good idea!" she exclaimed, her enthusiasm infectious.

With a grin echoing Garcia's sentiment, Maile nodded in agreement and playfully nudged her in camaraderie. "Exactly," she chimed in, her tone lighthearted as she acknowledged Garcia's unwavering love for life's little pleasures. "That woman knows what she's talking about."

Then, with a playful tease, Maile turned to me. "Now, malady," she continued, "you're going to sit back and enjoy the cake I ordered because the one I made was definitely not edible without a heavy case of food poisoning."

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jetaime-jespere · 3 years

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Prompt #74/188

#74: Well. Yell, scream, say something, anything / #188: Say it.

Rated M.

Atlantic City is a calamitous disaster. At least that’s how it starts.

Not because of their case - of course it’s awful, as most of them are. There’s nothing not awful about a duo of killers targeting vacationers during the height of the summer tourist season. Everyone is on edge, it’s hot and cramped, and there isn’t much time before they’ll almost certainly find two more dead bodies in the early morning hours outside one of the many casinos dotting the shoreline. But they’re used to that; it’s practically their daily vernacular at this point, a bit of normalcy in the current chaos between them. The case is the least of Aaron’s concerns, or Emily’s for that matter.

It’s everything but the case this time.

Things go downhill before they even cross the New Jersey state lane. A last minute hydraulic fuel leak on the jet renders air travel a non option. Instead, they get stuck in the same SUV with Reid for company in the backseat for the four hour drive. Aaron almost feels sorry for him, but he’s completely oblivious to the brewing storm inside the confines of the car for the entire first leg of the trip. Reid chatters endlessly, yet neither of them seem to hear a word he’s saying. By the time they hit the Atlantic City Expressway, Emily is all but ready to leap out the window. Hardly any words are exchanged between the two of them at all; they aren’t needed. It’s in her body language and his reticence, the firm clench of his hand on the steering wheel and her weary head resting on a fist, angled as far away from him as possible.

“This is a mess,” Aaron mutters with more than an hour left to go, and he isn’t talking about the thickening traffic. He’s talking about them, and the ending to what never really had as much as a beginning in the first place.

Things spun out of control towards the end. There was a breakup, if it could be considered as much. What they had was never labeled or defined, it just was. It was built on a mistake, nurtured through secrecy and quiet whispers in the dark. It then spiraled into something else entirely, creating an impasse between them during the day that bled into endless nights spent wrapped around one another in beds across the country for almost four full months.

“We can’t do this,” Emily finally said in a darkened hotel room in Seattle exactly 12 days prior to this one. He’d been expecting it, recognized the signs of her pulling away a little more with every kiss he left on her smooth skin, every shudder of her body beneath his and every breathy pant in his ear. There’s nothing tangible left of them, just broken fragments and heavy silence, and every reason why they shouldn’t have ever started this in the first place plays out right before their eyes. “There’s only one way for this to end, you know.”

There was nothing he could say to talk her out of it as she threw the covers aside, reaching for her clothes on the floor. Aaron offered an “I’m sorry” for good measure yet it didn’t feel like enough, probably because it wasn’t at all. But it’s over, she reminded him as she closed the door firmly, without looking back.

Or so they think.

A mishap at the hotel in Atlantic City leaves the team two rooms short, meaning the team will have to double up for the next few days. JJ is seven months pregnant, which automatically gives her the comfort of her own space, and it goes without saying Dave will get his own too. Reid shuffles his feet and makes eye contact with Morgan, looking slightly relieved when he nods in agreement. That leaves Aaron to concede and Emily to shrug her shoulders indifferently, even if her face is anything but that. The caretaker of the slightly run down hotel only slightly leers in Emily’s direction as he passes over the two room keys, and Aaron can’t help but step between her and the counter and swipe them both out of the man’s hand with a curt “thanks.”

“You didn’t have to do that,” Emily says low enough for only Aaron to hear, snatching the key out of his hand and taking off in the direction of their room. “It’s just a damn key.”

“Did you see the way he stared at you?” Aaron questions with a hint of impatience in his tone as he goes to follow her, but she’s not listening.

“202 is the other way, you know.” The man chuckles with a jab of his finger, as if he’s seen this exact scenario play out many times before - two people disappearing behind a closed door, a disaster waiting to happen. “You two have yourselves a nice stay.” He doesn’t seem to care that just a few moments ago, Aaron’s FBI badge was in his face. He looks almost amused, which only adds to the visible tension between them both.

With an exasperated sigh, Emily turns on her heel and spins in the opposite direction toward their room. “I can’t believe this,” she mutters, staring at the tiny gold numbers on every door until she finds the one they need. Aaron doesn’t miss the way she squares her shoulders, the quick intake of breath as she twists the key in the knob.

The door squeaks on its hinges when she pushes it open; the room smells slightly of mold, but even that isn’t the worst part. The proverbial icing on the cake is when she stops dead in her tracks with him right behind her, shoulders sagging in defeat.

Fuck.

There’s only one bed. It sits in the middle of the damn room, practically mocking them both. Aaron doesn’t miss the subtle glance Emily throws in his direction, searching for his reaction just as he is studying hers. “I’ll take the couch,” he says immediately, keeping his face neutral, setting his bag down on the rickety piece of furniture that has clearly seen better days. “You can take the bed.”

“That hardly qualifies as a couch,” Emily tells him sharply. “That’s a chair, Aaron.”

She’s right, he thinks in annoyance. It wouldn’t even fit half of him, and staring at it makes his back hurt in anticipation. But sleeping next to her for however many nights they’re here isn’t exactly an option, either. “I don’t want to make you -”

“Let’s just agree,” Emily says through firmly clenched teeth, making it a done deal. “To be adults about this. We can share a room for a few days without it being an issue. That includes the bed.”

…

They should have known better, but it’s too late for that.

As expected, the rest of the day is exhausting. It only ends because of the promise to look at things with fresh eyes in the morning at the urging of the equally weary Atlantic City police. By the time they make it back to the shabby room, they’re both tired, hot, and cranky, hardly uttering a word after bidding goodnight to everyone else.

“You shower first,” Aaron says as he holds the door open for her, giving her enough space to pass him. “I have to check in on Jack.” He knows her routine once they get back from a case - a shower is always a necessity, and in the better days, they’d always taken turns on first dibs. Or just showered together, which was always his preference.

If she thanks him he doesn’t hear it, and the bathroom door closes behind her, the lock added for good measure. But twenty minutes later - how long does she need in there - he has to avert his eyes when Emily steps out of the bathroom in a cloud of steam, the scent of shampoo lingering in her wake. She’s wrapped in one of the hotel issued towels, which is a generous description for the scrap of fabric that barely covers her, awkwardly crossing the room to dig through her suitcase.

Look away, Aaron wills himself, struggling to get comfortable on the tiny couch. It’s a lost cause, and will undoubtedly be a very long night.

There’s a mishap with the towel, a soft curse under her breath as she scrambles before it hits the floor, and an inopportune moment when their eyes meet, succumbing to what they silently agreed would never happen again. It’s how Emily finds herself pinned under his weight, her back pressed against the mattress as Aaron lowers to his knees and dips his head between her legs. Any protest that falls from her lips is short lived, her hands in his hair, her legs curling over his shoulders as he slowly begins to take her apart. Emily arches into him, unable to stifle the moans that are now a constant stream of affirmation, and Aaron doesn’t bother with reminding her the walls are thin. He doesn’t care, and something tells him in the moment he coaxes her climax out of her, neither does she.

“I missed you,” he says when he slides into her to completion a few moments later, giving her a moment to adjust to him before starting to move. He kisses the space between her breasts and Emily all but ignores him, pushing him over onto his back to straddle his hips with a smirk.

The pace she sets is quick, the rhythm fast and rough, and it’s over almost embarrassingly fast. He’s gotten her down against his chest, his arms wrapped tightly around her as she whimpers into his mouth. Her body is shaking in the aftermath as he thrusts hard once more, holding her against him. For a few quiet moments, the only sound is that of their breathing, a heaviness falling over them both at the realization of what’s just happened. And yet, she stays on his chest, her limbs not quite ready to work, in the comfort of his embrace for a few moments longer.

Afterward, Emily puts as much space as she can between them, which isn’t much given the size of the bed. “If this was your way of not sleeping on the couch,” she says sleepily, her voice muffled by the pillow, “I guess you won.”

...

The next morning, as the sun rises over the shore, Aaron finds her on the balcony, wearing nothing but his undershirt that was abandoned on the floor, the sound of the ocean in the distance. He mumbles something about getting coffee, the first thing that comes to his mind. He knows she (and he) could use some, judging by the minimal amount of sleep they got. Emily doesn’t say a word, just pushes him against the sliding door and drops to her knees. His head falls back against the glass, his hand tightening in her hair as she brings him into her mouth, letting him hit the back of her throat. In between his eyes closing, his hips stuttering against her face, Aaron watches the brilliant mix of orange, yellow, and red fade into daylight, and wonders just how things got to be such a fucking mess in the first place.

They’re two for zero now, and as the day dawns hot and there’s another set of bodies found, it’s abundantly clear no one is leaving Atlantic City anytime soon. And much later that night, they hardly make it to that damn bed before the score becomes three.

…

Aaron wakes up a few hours later from a restless, uncomfortable sleep. The room is stuffy, the pillow underneath his head is flat, the hum of the air conditioner a constant nag even if it does little to cool the room down. Before he opens his eyes, he knows she’s gone. The space beside him is cold - Emily is nowhere to be found, and there’s thunder rumbling ominously in the distance. He dresses in the dark, grabbing his keys, doesn’t bother with an umbrella, and makes the short trek to the boardwalk.

It’s where he would go, and it’s where he finds her, sitting on a bench, her arms folded across her chest, long legs crossed at the knees. She’s ripping at her fingernails, a sure sign something is wrong, and wearing a blank expression that doesn’t change when she slowly turns her head to see him coming right towards her. “I had a feeling you would find me.”

Aaron shrugs, but doesn’t miss the way she flinches when he sits beside her. “Not many places to look. It’s 1 AM, you know.”

She sniffs with disinterest, continuing to pick at her fingernails.“Why do we keep screwing up?” Emily says after a long pause, and what he sees is like a swift kick to the chest. She looks disappointed with herself, disgusted even. All because of him. “Why can’t I just … quit you?”

“Why do you keep coming back?” He challenges her right back. “If all you’re going to do is walk away again?”

Emily turns her head to stare at him with widened eyes. “We both know the answer to that, Aaron. We both know this was never going to work.”

“No, you decided that. All on your own.” He remembers the night in Seattle as if it were yesterday - the night she left. The sting of her words is still fresh in his mind. “But maybe you’ve already compartmentalized it,” he adds with a bite in his voice that wasn’t there before.

Emily recoils at his words, recrossing her arms over her chest. She rises to her feet, pacing around the bench. “What do you want from me, Aaron? What were you expecting when we drunkenly decided to sleep together once? It wasn’t supposed to be like this.”

“You. I want you. And not just this fuck then forget bullshit,” he says over the growing wind and thunder, the skies threatening to open. In the distance, the ocean churns, the tides crashing against the shore as his anger builds. “I want to be with you,” Aaron adds with a waver in his voice. “Regardless of how this started.”

Emily blinks with confusion and bites her lip, as if holding back tears. She shivers, rubbing her arms, her lip starting to tremble. They can’t. Her silence is an answer in and of itself, one he refused to accept.

“Well?” He demands, the anger rising in his voice, and Emily curses his resolve.

“Well what?”

“Well. Yell, scream, say something, anything,” he snaps, searching her face for a sign of anything besides the emptiness painted across her features. “Don’t just say nothing.”

But Emily indeed says nothing, just regards him with wide, darkened eyes that tell him what he needs to know. In the dark, with only the lights of the boardwalk to cast eerie shadows on her face, she looks almost ethereal, a haunting comparison to the fear he sees. That’s what it is, he thinks. Fear. Fear of what could be, fear of what might never be.

“Say it,” he pleads. “Please, Emily.” The rain starts to fall, coming down relentlessly and soaking them both to the skin almost instantly. “

“Aaron,” she whispers, barely audible over the thunder and now the rain. “It would never work.” She holds up her hands in defeat. “We can’t.”

“What are you so afraid of?” He grabs her by the shoulders, just tightly enough that she can’t duck out of his grasp. Emily squirms uncomfortably but he holds her fast, unwilling to let her go, for if he does, she may never come back. “Why are you so damn afraid of this actually working? Do you have any damn faith?”

She opens her mouth but snaps it shut, her chin trembling with effort. He expects her to slap him, to jerk away and disappear into the night. He’s waiting for her to leave like she did three weeks ago. But she doesn’t. What she does instead surprises the hell out of him. Emily kisses him, slanting her mouth against his in the pouring rain, pressing her rain-soaked body right into his. It takes a full ten seconds before he kisses her back.

It’s a compromise, an agreement to not make a decision one way or the other, at least for the time being. Even so, Aaron envelopes her in his arms, a hand cupped around the back of her head and the other anchored across her shoulders. He kisses her back with an urgency he can only attribute to the fact that he’s in love with her, something he’s known for way too long.

He doesn’t have to tell her that, because somewhere amongst all the doubt, she already knows.

An hour later, after a hot shower (taken together) the score becomes four. And a few hours after that, as the sun rises yet again, nearly blinding them in a cramped Atlantic City hotel room, Emily tentatively agrees to try.

It’s good enough for him.

#hotchniss #aaron hotchner x emily prentiss #aaron x emily #prompts #aaron hotchner #emily prentiss #hotchniss fanfiction #this made me miss Atlantic City a little bit #I had fun with this one #even if it took awhile to materialize #feral247365

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