#emily now it's your turn!! pay it forward!! get her to talk! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

storiesofsvu · 2 years ago

Text

A Dangerous Game Ch 10

Emily Prentiss x reader warnings: language, alcohol consumption, mention of smut, a hint of foreshadowing if you squint, just two idiots in denial. As always, would love to hear your thoughts/comments/what you think is coming next! even on anon! i love talking about my fics with ppl who are enjoying them!

You felt a small weight hit the bed and you stirred in your sleep, not wanting to open your eyes yet, holding onto the dreams before you felt something nuzzle into your hand accompanied by a purring and you realized it was Sergio. He settled into your side right as Emily rolled over, still half asleep herself but her arm wrapped tightly around your waist, pulling you to her and you let out a happy sigh before drifting back off to dreamland.

It was only a couple of hours later when Sergio was nudging against your face, little meows getting louder until he finally licked your nose and your eyes scrunched open. You glanced at him, frowning for a moment before he meowed again, this time louder and you let out a quiet sigh, scooping him up before you slipped from the bed.

Emily awoke when the sun was fully infiltrating her bedroom, she smiled at first while she stretched and then she realized you weren’t in the bed beside her and she frowned, sitting up she glanced around the room. Your phone was still on her bedside table, and your clothes from last night were still strewn across her floor so you clearly hadn’t gone far. As she fully woke up she could smell coffee wafting through the air, then your voice broke the silence of her apartment. She couldn’t help the small smile that broke across her lips, shifting from the bed to grab some cozy clothes to toss on before leaving her bedroom and wandering down the hall. She paused in the entry way to the kitchen, leaning against the wall to take in the view in front of her. It was clear you had silently raided her closet, a grey FBI tee and pair of pyjama shorts covering your body. The smell of food wafted through the room, a bowl beside the stove while a pan preheated, though you weren’t paying much attention to that at the time. Sergio was up on the counter, getting all the love and scratches as you cooed, giggling when he nuzzled his face against yours.

“Thought you didn’t like cats.” Emily greeted with a tease and you nearly jumped, glancing her way.

“I just said I liked dogs better.” You replied with a sheepish smile, “I gave him half a can, hope that’s alright. Little guy wouldn’t stop screaming earlier.”

“Guess I’m immune to it now.” Stepping forward she wrapped an arm around your waist, pressing a kiss to your cheek before turning to Sergio, “it’s rude to wake up guests.” She scolded, scooping him up with her free arm, “and you know you’re not supposed to be on the counter.”

With an offended meow he jumped out of her arms, padding away to his food dish and you slipped out of her arm, moving to wash your hands before returning your attention to the stove. Emily crossed the kitchen to the coffee pot, pulling down a mug to fill up, adding in her preferred mixings.

“Hope it’s okay I raided your fridge.” You said, scooping a ladle of batter out of the bowl to drip onto the pan in medium sized circles. Behind you Emily chuckled over the first couple sips of her coffee, arm wrapping around you again, this time her lips hit the side of your neck.

“Fridge and closet.” She murmured, “sticky fingers over here.”

“I was hungry!” You defended, “and I didn’t want to put on yesterdays clothes.”

“Could always walk around naked.” She suggested with a smirk and you laughed.

“That was the original plan but Sergio kept staring.”

“Perv.” She scolded in his general direction before kissing your shoulder, “anything I can help with?”

“Bacon’s in the oven, chocolate chip pancakes on the go, if you want anything else? Eggs?”

“Nah.” She squeezed at your hip, moving to the fridge, “I’ll cut up some fruit though.”

Emily flicked through her phone, selecting a soft playlist to echo through the space as the two of you got to work, easily moving around each other in the kitchen. Every so often you’d have to peek through a couple of cupboards before she’d pull down exactly what you were looking for, or she’d purposely brush against you as she reached around you to get something. Soon enough breakfast was done and she was refilling your coffee, mixing it just how you liked it while you shifted everything onto the breakfast bar and took a seat. You murmured a quiet ‘thanks’ to Emily when she slid you your coffee, sighing happily as you took your first sip before digging into breakfast. Her free hand found yours on the table top, fingers tracing the lines of your hand while the two of you ate, chatting every so often.

“This is fucking delicious.” She complimented over her first bite.

“Secret ingredient is putting syrup right into the batter.”

“Kay, that’s it, you need to wake up here every weekend. Because this is perfection.”

You felt your cheeks heat, hoping it wasn’t too noticeable as you smiled over at her, a tiny laugh on your lips and you felt a warmth spread through your chest that you knew had nothing to do with the coffee. You’d not only had one of the best sleeps in weeks, if not even longer, able to sleep as late as you wanted, curled up in Emily’s arms with no worries of a knock at the door, a phone ringing with a new lead, you had all weekend to simply drink each other in. Instead of waking up alone and having to drag yourself out of bed for a pot of coffee and a pop tart you actually had the motivation to cook, to share something with someone else, and it was an incredibly nice change. Sergio headbutted into your leg, rubbing against you while he meowed before pouncing up into your lap and you chuckled.

“I already fed you mister.”

“Careful.” Emily warned with a grin, “he will steal your bacon.”

She watched as you cooed down at him, scratching behind his ears while he rubbed against your hand, nudging his way up to boop against your face. Compared to the wildly professional, bad ass you were on crime scenes, or even the still somewhat cautious woman you were around the rest of the team, you were surprisingly adorable right now. Sure, she’d seen you relaxed before, but nothing like this. Though it probably didn’t help that you were in her kitchen, dressed in her clothes, being affectionate with Sergio after making her a homemade breakfast. You were incredibly at peace, happy and living in that moment, not a care in the world, not a worry about what was coming next and Emily couldn’t help but smile at that thought. Sergio popped up on his hind legs, his paws up on the table and you let out an offended noise, grabbing him around the waist,

“Sir.. we talked about this. I already fed you; you don’t get bacon.” Picking him up you plopped him back down on the floor much to his disappointment before you turned back to your breakfast. “Did you have plans today?”

“No.” Emily replied with a happy smile, “the plan was nothing. Maybe pick up a couple of groceries later but I was gonna leave everything for tomorrow.”

“Your fridge is looking pretty empty.”

“I’m not used to staying home this often!” She defended with a laugh, “I kept waiting for an out of state case to pop up.”

“Tell me about it.” You practically rolled your eyes and Emily chuckled.

“What? There something about out of town cases you prefer?” She teased with a brow raise and you were all of two seconds from throwing a piece of strawberry in her direction.

“As if they haven’t become your favourite.” You placed you cutlery on top of the plate, pushing back from the island to stand.

“Hey, none of that.” Emily interjected and you looked back in her direction, “you cooked, I’ll clean things up.” She nodded toward the couch, “pick something to watch.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice.” You smiled, placing the plate back on the counter as Emily moved around it, kissing you gently.

“Thank you for breakfast.”

“Anytime.”

Hours later and the two of you were tangled in each others limbs on Emily’s couch, you’d managed to go through a handful of episodes of That 70’s Show and had moved onto movies, neither of you wanting to move. Em was on her back, braced against the arm of the couch while you laid on her chest, curled on your side to see the tv. Both of you had dozed on and off throughout the day, a blanket tossed over your bodies, Sergio occasionally jumping up for a cuddle and honestly, it was the best way either of you could have thought to spend a weekend. The movie finally came to an end and you let out a groan, stretching out your body as you shifted so you could see her, patting at her side,

“It’s getting late, you need to get groceries.”

“I’ll go tomorrow.”

“No you won’t.” You chuckled, “and you know it. Besides, what about dinner?”

“Isn’t that what takeout’s for?”

“If you show up to work with no lunch on Monday you’ll never hear the end of it.”

“And I again, remind you about the blessed thing we have now called delivery.” She laughed, her hand smoothing back a piece of loose hair.

“You gotta stop wasting your money Prentiss.” You teased, sitting up and offering her a hand, “c’mon. I’ll even drive. Show you a couple easy bring to work lunches.”

“Fine.” She half grumbled, “but only ‘cause you’re cute.”

“You think I’m being demanding? You only have one can of cat food left. Sergio would nag you until the end of time.”

Emily chuckled, taking your hand and letting you drag her off the couch because you were right, and as much as she wanted to stay on that couch with you, the weekend was also for getting stuff done. At least this way she got to do some of it with you. She’d always thought of grocery shopping as something rather uneventful, especially at the hours when you couldn’t get free samples but today she discovered a whole new side of it. You admitted you also needed to pick up a couple of things, using a basket within her cart to keep yours separate. Neither of you needed a lot, you never wanted to have a fully stocked fridge to then immediately leave for a case and have it all go bad. You picked up some frozen stuff, some dried goods, anything fresh you could easily whip up in the next couple of days to toss into containers and into the freezer if need be. The two of you stayed close while you shopped, stealing kisses, laughter breaking through the quiet of the store as you pursued the aisles without a care in the world who happened to see.

By the time you got back to Emily’s both of you were starving. She popped a nice bottle of malbec while you set about cooking some fresh meatballs, letting her take control of the pasta. Music flowed through the air while you chatted about various things, a lot of it related to food, dishes that either of you liked to make, ones that travelled well for work lunches and your go to’s for fancier meals when you wanted to impress. You ate dinner at the island, this time sneaking Sergio a couple bites of meatball, wrapped in a happy domestic glow before the two of you started on dishes, making sure the kitchen was tidied up. You let out a soft sigh, glancing around the room,

“I should get outta your hair.”

“What?” Emily glanced up from where she was refilling wine glasses, “oh c’mon, I can’t let you drive now.”

“Em…” You laughed, “I’ve had one glass.”

“Not after you finish this.” She slid the glass toward you with a soft smile and you huffed out a laugh.

“I don’t want to take up your whole weekend.”

“Thanks to you I got half my errands done.” A hand closed around your wrist, pulling you to her and you couldn’t help but smile as her lips met yours, “if you need to go, go, but you’re more than welcome to stay another night.”

“Good.” You smiled, kissing her gently, “cause I really didn’t want to put pants on yet.”

With a laugh, she swatted at your ass, picking up the bottle of wine as the two of you made your way back into the living room to make home on the couch. You skimmed through a few streaming options before the two of you settled on a movie to watch to end the day off with. Emily sat beside you, tossing a blanket out over your legs extended onto the coffee table or pulled up under you while the movie played, her arm resting on the back of the couch, occasionally coming to play with your hair or tickle at the back of your neck. You hadn’t realized you’d chosen a movie with such romantic undertones, or maybe it didn’t and it was just your imagination running wild after spending half your weekend at Emily’s. Either way you felt a soft sigh leave your lips as the credits started to play, throughout the movie Emily would briefly hold you tighter, her lips meeting the top of your head, there were stolen glances and laughs, little kisses during more boring moments. It started auto playing onto the sequel and sighed once more, letting it move through your entire body and you felt Emily’s hand squeeze at your arm. You’d shifted once again so you were lying on her chest,

“You alright over there?” She asked softly, hand rubbing at your body and you paused for a moment, putting together your words.

“Is.. is it really that much of an issue?” You shifted your head so you could catch her gaze in time for her brow to furrow while she looked down at you, “co-worker involvement I mean. Does it really affect things as badly as they make it seem?”

Emily let out a breath, she could read between your words, knowing that you were asking because the downfall for a unit chief would likely be more than an agent, no matter what you wanted, you needed to make sure her career wouldn’t be ruined and because you were hesitant. She’d known that from the start. There was no way you would’ve come up to her in that bar all those months ago, and once you’d know she was your superior you kept your distance, you always made sure she was comfortable with whatever was happening.

“The bureau…. Just likes to cover their asses.” She groaned softly, her hand coming to brush hair off your face, “there’s protocols, agents involved with witnesses, lawyers, each other, relations to victims or unsubs, they have to be removed from cases so they don’t jeopardize them.”

“I almost married a lawyer; I remember the rules.” You rolled your eyes and Emily felt her heart jolt in her chest, making sure to tuck that into her back pocket to unpack later, “and honestly it’s bullshit. Will was in the field with us a few weeks ago!” You pushed up to sitting, “not only is he married to JJ but they have kids together? The director in Seattle never would have let that fly.”

“Different states, different directors, different opinions.” Emily offered and you huffed out a laugh.

“Then.. maybe this isn’t so wrong.” You glanced up to her, a curious look on your face and she nearly melted.

“You think it’s worth a shot?”

“I think there’s nothing wrong with friends with benefits.” You finally admitted, “I mean, are you really going to jump to save me just because you’ve seen me come? Over someone like JJ or Morgan who you’ve known for a literal decade?”

“Way to be blunt.” She laughed.

“And hey… our rule was nothing could happen while we were at home.”

“Are you about to find some loophole that this is my home not yours cause it’s my house?” She laughed again, stroking at your cheek and your lips split into a grin.

“No… technically…. I live in Alexandria… you live in Washington. If I’m at you’re place, I’m not in my home state. If you’re at mine, you’re in Virginia.”

“Well that is quite the interesting loophole you’ve found there.”

“Thought you might like it.” You leant in, kissing her and she sighed happily against your lips, “so?”

“I say we cut the crap.” Emily chuckled, “like you said, no harm in friends with benefits. What was the point in saying we could only hook up while out of state? If anything it had us focussing more on each other than actual work.”

“Exactly.” You laughed, a quiet shriek leaving your lips as Emily tugged you into her lap, her lips capturing yours once again.

“That also means I get to make you come as many times as I want and it doesn’t matter if we’re stuck here.”

“You’ve got until noon tomorrow Prentiss, then I’ve got shit to do.”

“I guess I better get to work then.”

____________

@ssa-sapphic @mickey-gomezz @momlifebehard @emilyprentiss4life @softgamerking @httpjupiterbby @somethingimaginative17 @temilyrights @alexxavicry @mysticfalls01 @anya-casablanca @daddy-heather-dunbar @evilregal2002 @aliensaurusrex @alcabots @7thavenger @ladysc @rustyzebra @ilovemycrayons @mandy-asimp @thegrantwater @leftoverenvy @kades95 @disneyfan624 @dextur @m00nkn1ghts @augustvandyne @supercriminalbean @daffodil-heart @msvenablesbitch @its-soph-xx @going-gray @just-a-torn-up-masterpiece @hopelesslyfallenninlove @peanutbutterprincess @kdaghay @emilyprentisssluvr @lex13cm @awolfcsworld @zizzlekwum @emobabeyy @riveramorylunar @s1ut4nat @midnight-sapphic @scorpsik @thisisraes @prentiss-theorem @unsubologyy @strongsassysexysloane @svushots

#emily prentiss #emily prentiss x reader #criminal minds #a dangerous game

242 notes · View notes

mangocustard16 · 1 year ago

Text

He's just my Roommate🌙

Kwon soonyoung x reader

| synopsis: This is a tale of two opposites learning to coexist, finding friendship in unexpected places, and perhaps even discovering that their differences could be the key to a unique connection that neither of them saw coming.

| pairing: college au! kwon soonyoung x reader

| warnings: hoshi being smug(yes that's a warning!)

| word count: 700

Kwon Soonyoung, better known as Hoshi, had always been the kind of guy who exuded confidence and mischief wherever he went. He was charming, outgoing, and often the life of the party. But for all his charm, there was one person who couldn't stand him – you, Y/N.

In the bustling chaos of a crowded university party during your first year, the room was filled with laughter and loud music as students danced and chatted around you.

"Y/N, this party is insane, right?", your friend Lee Chan shouted over the music, his eyes wide with excitement.

You laughed and nodded in agreement. "Yeah, it's pretty wild. Let's grab some drinks!"

As you and Chan headed towards the drinks table, you couldn't help but notice a guy across the room who seemed to be staring intently in your direction. It was Hoshi, his charismatic and confident demeanor making him hard to miss in any crowd. You dismissed it, assuming it was a coincidence.

With drinks in hand, you and Chan returned to your spot in the middle of the room, continuing your animated conversation. Unbeknownst to you, Hoshi had been watching from afar, and he was growing increasingly convinced that you were checking him out.

"Mingyu, I swear that girl over there has been eyeing me," Hoshi said to his friend with a smug grin.

Mingyu chuckled and followed Hoshi's gaze to where you were talking. "You think so, Hoshi? Maybe she's just enjoying the party."

Hoshi shook his head confidently. "Nah, trust me, she's into me. I can tell when someone's checking me out."

As your conversation with Chan continued, Hoshi mustered up the courage to approach you, his pride pushing him forward. He tapped you on the shoulder, and you turned to see him standing there, wearing a cocky smirk.

"Hey there, sweetheart," Hoshi said, his voice dripping with confidence. "You've been staring at me all night, haven't you?"

You blinked in surprise, not quite sure how to respond to his accusation. "Excuse me?"

Hoshi leaned in closer, his tone even more confident. "Don't be shy. It's okay to be mesmerized by my charm and good looks."

Chan raised an eyebrow, sensing the tension in the air. "Hoshi, she was just talking to me. We're friends."

Hoshi brushed off Chan's words, seemingly undeterred. "Come on, it's okay to admit it. I'm used to it. Girls can't resist me."

You felt a flush of anger and embarrassment rising in your cheeks. You had no interest in Hoshi, and his arrogance was now starting to get on your nerves. "Actually, Hoshi, I was just talking to my friend here. I wasn't checking you out."

Hoshi's confidence wavered for a moment, but he quickly regained his composure. "Sure, sure, whatever you say."

With that, he walked away, leaving you and Chan stunned by the encounter. Chan put a comforting hand on your shoulder. "Don't pay him any mind, Y/N. Hoshi can be a bit full of himself sometimes."

You nodded, excusing yourself from the crowd. "Yeah, I know. Let's just finish our drinks and head out."

The final year of university had begun, and your roommate Emily had decided that this was the best time to get a boyfriend. Now there's nothing wrong with her getting a boyfriend; the only problem is that they can't seem to keep their hands off each other. At this point, you lost count of how many times you had walked in on them making out on the couch. So, you finally decide to move into an apartment near your college.

Chan offered to help you find a suitable place. One sunny afternoon, he approached you with an idea.

"Hey, Y/N, I know you've been looking for a new apartment," Chan began as the two of you sat in the campus cafe. You nodded, a hint of frustration in your voice. "Yeah, it's been quite a hassle. I need a place where I can actually focus on my studies."

Chan leaned in closer and lowered his voice. "Well, what if I told you I might have a solution? Hoshi's roommate is also moving and he's been complaining about living alone. What if you two moved in together?"

You blinked in surprise. "Hoshi? Kwon Soonyoung? The Hoshi we know? Living with me?", you said.

Chan nodded. "Exactly. I think you and Hoshi could make great roommates." You scoffed. Chan ignored you and continued. "Plus, his apartment is within walking distance of the campus, and you'd get a more peaceful living environment."

You pursed your lips, considering the proposal for a moment. The idea of living with Hoshi didn't seem any more appealing than your current situation, but you could always change your mind later. "All right, Chan, go ahead and talk to Hoshi. If he's interested, I'm willing to give it a try."

Hoshi leaned back in his chair, his trademark smirk on full display. "So, Y/N, you're considering being my roommate, huh?"

You nodded, a hint of frustration in your voice. "Yeah, I am, but let's set some ground rules first."

Hoshi chuckled, clearly amused by your seriousness. "Ground rules? You really are something, Y/N."

You shot him a pointed look. "I'm just making sure we can coexist peacefully, Hoshi. I need a quiet and clean space to study."

Hoshi scratched his head, his smirk fading into a more thoughtful expression. "I get it. I can be a bit chaotic sometimes, but I promise I'll do my best to keep the place clean, and I won't disturb your study time."

You hadn't expect him to cooperate, but you appreciated his willingness to compromise, and a small smile tugged at the corners of your lips. "Okay, that's a start. We should also discuss how we'll split expenses and chores."

Hoshi nodded in agreement. "Fair enough. We can work out a budget for shared expenses, and I'm not against doing my fair share of chores."

Maybe...maybe Kwon Soonyoung was not that awful after all.

Part 2??

116 notes · View notes

codename-mom · 1 year ago

Text

Rebellion

Summary: Emily rised from the dead and Doyle is not a threat anymore. The team is ready to celebrate its reunion, but Penelope has something to say to her boss.

Characters: Aaron Hotchner and Penelope Garcia (platonic)

Contents: this text is part of a self-challenge on the theme "It's cute but...". So, it's supposed to be funny and/or cute with a slice of bitterswitness. Hope you'll enjoy it!

TW: anxiety (because it is known that Hotch is just a ball of anxiety)

PS : English is not my mother language so they are necessarily mistakes. Sorry about that.

___

Hotch had returned to his office, while the whole team was bustling about downstairs in the open-plan office. The whole thing was finally over, and his agents were looking forward to releasing the pressure together in a local bar. After several months of separation and an emotional rollercoaster, they needed to reconnect and take stock of everything that had happened to each other during that time. He was setting foot within these walls again after a handful of weeks away from it all, and he felt as if he had a swarm of bees for brains. His eyelids closed by themselves as soon as he stopped moving, and he felt that if he sat up for even a quarter of a second, he would fall asleep immediately. And yet, his day wasn't quite over yet.

Sensing a presence behind his back, he turned his head to see Penelope standing in the doorway. Upright as an “i” on the threshold, she waited for his authorization, looking determined.

“Come in, Garcia," he said, placing the file in his hands back on his desk.

“I'm so sorry, you must want to go home and get some sleep, but I need to talk to you," she declared, stepping towards him.

“Don’t worry. I was expecting your visit. Sit down," he suggested, pointing to the bench.

“No, I’d rather stand.”

The BAU supervisor frowned. He had always seen the young woman address him with a random mixture of exaggerated respect and unrestrained frankness, but this time her attitude was different from the ordinary. She looked… pissed off. Then he recoiled as she planted herself right next to him and began to stare at him with redoubled attention.

“Gee!” she hissed after too long a silence.

“What?” he asked defensively.

She was smaller than him, but so unpredictable that he dreaded her reactions. This day more than any other, given recent events.

“I haven't had time to pay attention until now, but you're skeletal," remarked the analyst, aghast.

“Really?”

Since he'd been sent on a mission to the other side of the world, he hadn't really had a chance to look in the mirror. On site, the only one available to him and the soldiers was an A5 format used to help the men shave without disfiguring themselves. An activity he had more or less ignored in order to focus solely on what he had been sent there to do. In fact, he had no idea what he looked like at this hour. The most he knew was that he'd lost weight, since he'd had to tighten a few notches on his belt and was floating in his largest T-shirts.

“When was the last time you ate?" she asked, regaining a respectable distance.

“I don’t know. I don’t even know which day is it.”

It was the truth. He'd left the military camp in a hurry, jumped from one vehicle to another to get to the nearest international airport as quickly as possible, then caught the first available plane closer to his destination, made a mandatory stopover before boarding again and hopping in a cab to Quantico. And all without worrying about jet lag. In fact, he was in a confused space-time where he would have been unable to date anything.

“Didn’t they feed you there, or what?”

“Garcia, you wanted to talk to me," he cut her off, as he knew she was quick to wax on about trivial matters, forgetting the crucial information she had to deliver.

Normally, this wouldn't have bothered him, but at the moment, he didn't have the strength to endure this kind of conversation.

“Oh, yes. Sorry, she apologized immediately, before she put her fists on her hips, her eyebrows furrowed. Do you have any idea what I want to do to you right now?”

“Give me something to eat?”

The young woman's painted lips quivered, a sign that, despite her irritation, she had been sensitive to this sensible but humorous supposition.

“… Okay, she conceded serious again. The other thing I want to do to you.”

“Tell me.”

“To slap you! She exclaimed spreading her arms. How could you have done such thing? You… you have carried her coffin! You saw me cry her death! When you knew! You knew that… that everything was fake!”

With tears in her eyes, Penelope fidgeted under his nose, both upset and furious. Hotch wasn't surprised by this sudden outpouring of energy against him; in fact, he'd been prepared for it since the plan had been drawn up. He knew that sooner or later the truth would come out, and that those who had been scorned would undeniably turn against those responsible for this machination. However, it would have been a lie to say that his interlocutor's charge didn't affect him.

“I’m sorry.”

“No, there is no “I’m sorry”, she retorted glaring at him. It’s too easy. It’s not you who suffered during the last seven months.”

“It was the only solution to protect her from Doyle.”

“You don’t know that! You set all this up with JJ without telling us.”

“The fewer people who knew, the safer she was.”

“Enough!”

Without warning, she struck his arm violently before realizing what she had just done.

“Sorry.”

He didn’t say anything, considering he deserved it. The bespectacled blonde's shoulders slumped, and her fury gave way to another emotion. Her cheeks flushed, her eyes shining, she asked in a strangled voice:

“Why didn’t you tell us anything? You don’t trust us, that’s it?”

“Of course not,” he defended himself, trying to maintain eye contact.

The giant would entrust his life to the hands of his agents without the slightest hesitation, for their efficiency was matched only by their loyalty, but he had made this choice in spite of everything. He weighed the pros and cons of this solution at length before making his decision. Quickly realizing that this would be a very painful moment for his relatives – and even more so for him and his accomplice – he had armored himself more than ever to take the brunt of the backlash. Clearly not enough, as his confidence waned in the face of Garcia's bruised expression. Her friendship with him, which transcended all the gulfs that should have separated them, was of paramount importance to him and, without him realizing it, he clung to it daily to avoid becoming the block of marble that everyone saw in him. Seeing her so hurt by his silence, he began to wonder if he'd pushed his luck too far. Was he going to lose her? Was she going to walk away from him for good?

“Everyone knew about Foyet, and we all pulled together to support and help you," she reminded him, trying to meet his gaze again.

“And we have seen the result.”

He had answered without thinking and regretted his words on the spot. Haley’s death wasn’t just on his mind. The members of his team had taken part in the hunt for her murderer, each in their own way, and not being able to save her was a serious blow to their morale. For all of them, it was a gash that they would carry with them for life, and which would come back to their memory more or less regularly. It was nothing compared to the gaping wound that would never heal in his own heart, but it was there, all the same. Including the woman standing in front of him, who looked like she'd just been slapped in the face.

“Penelope, I understand that you don't take it well – I was expecting it, to be honest – but I had to, he continued, diving back into the rhetoric he had sketched out several months earlier in order to justify himself. Emily could never have worked normally knowing Doyle was out there. She would have been afraid for us and for herself the whole time.”

“Why? Blew the luscious blonde shaking her head. What was going through your head to make you decide that this was the best solution?”

Many things, he wished to answer. Too much, surely, since he obviously hadn't done the right thing. His only obsession had been to protect Prentiss by all means. When he realized she'd gone off alone to face her adversary, he'd imagined right away her bathed in blood in a gutter, dying or already dead. So when, by some miracle, she had escaped – badly wounded, but alive – he'd known he had no choice but to keep her away from her target. She certainly wouldn't have been so lucky a second time. But it also implied that her predator had to be prevented from tracking her, and for as long as necessary. The man stalking her was a real eel, with far greater resources than the Ripper ever had. It had therefore proved essential to redouble his caution, and to do so he'd had to plunge a few knives into the backs of people on whom he could – should – have relied, as he had done in the past.

“I… I imagined what would happen if we couldn't get our hands on Doyle, he explained, embarrassed. I was expecting JJ to offer to make her disappear – administratively – but I didn't have the means to do it. That’s why JJ was the only one to know. She was the only one who could have done it.”

Inwardly, he crossed his fingers that the wrath of his disgruntled employees would not fall on his former liaison officer. With her position at the Pentagon, she knew the right people more than he did, so he naturally turned to her for help. Help she had given him without question. Intelligent, she had understood, as he had, that they had few options before them to preserve Emily's life. But she hadn't done anything without his approval. It was he – and he alone – who had launched the process.

“Did you know where she was?”

“No. Not precisely, at last. I didn’t have any contact with her.”

“You've played with our feelings," Penelope said, folding her arms across her chest.

Angered, she stared at him with an intensity he'd never known and struggled to sustain. He knew that honesty was a cornerstone of the technical analyst's personality. She hated lying and didn't hide when she cried or laughed, expressing her feelings without any particular concern for what people might say. And she expected the same from the people around her, whom she considered friends. For some reason, she had forgiven his silence and coldness, and continued to support him through thick and thin; but this betrayal seemed to have been the last straw.

“I didn’t do it out of joy, believe me.”

“But you did, she scolded in a dull voice. You watched us fall apart. You’ve even pretended to evaluate us.”

“No, I really wanted to know how you were doing.”

“And? Satisfied?”

She didn't scream, she didn't gesticulate, she didn't cry, she didn't tremble. She stood there on her two legs, her brown eyes darting at him through the lenses of her colored glasses, her thin, light eyebrows close together. An aura of cold anger emanated from every pore of her skin, and Hotch felt like cowering in the corner of his desk. With a tight throat and a lump in his stomach, he felt worse than ever.

“Penelope, I was never amused by this situation. Far from it.”

“And Spencer? Do you think he enjoyed crying in JJ's arms every day for two months?”

“No, he agreed, his heart pounding against his ribs; and neither did JJ.”

Garcia opened her mouth and eyes, dumbfounded.

“You knew?”

“She called me every time, he admitted. It was extremely difficult for her not to spill the beans. And I’ve been dying to tell you myself. But I knew that it would put her in danger.”

Never before had he been so aware of the feelings he had for his team members as he had been over the past seven months. Watching them mope around every day, laughing briefly then crying, dragging their feet, flashing fake smiles, and sinking into interminable silences, had given him sleepless nights after sleepless nights. Unable to reason with himself about the wisdom of his decision, he had only managed to close his eyes because he had been terribly tired. But he invariably woke with a start two or three hours later, his chest compressed by anguish, his skin shiny with sweat. And JJ's pleas for help didn’t do any good. However, he had never pushed her away, instead urging her to confide in him as much as she wished, so that she could be relieved of the burden weighing down on her.

“And if Derek hadn't managed to get his hands on Doyle, how much longer would this charade have gone on?”

Hotch first lowered his eyes, stalling for time before delivering his answer, then raised them to meet Penelope's gaze.

“… As long as necessary.”

Her irises even brighter, the technician swallowed her words for a moment, staring into space for the time of an inspiration, then, cheeks flushed, spoke again:

“You were ready to spend your entire life with this lie for Emily?”

“I would have done it and would do it for any of you if I had to.”

His words seemed outrageously pompous when he heard them, but they were entirely sincere. If any of his men were to find themselves in the same situation, he would inflict the same priesthood on himself, at any price. Anything rather than having to kneel one day beside the inanimate body of one of them, with no possibility of doing anything to bring him or her back to life. Anything rather than have to clutch the bloody corpse of another loved one again.

“Why? Pursued Garcia, a tear escaping from her eyelid. … Why do you do this to yourself?”

“Because it’s my job. It’s my duty as unit chief.”

She shook her head, but he was unable to understand the meaning of it. Was she doubtful? Or disillusioned? Exhausted, perhaps, from having gone to so much effort to excuse his unacceptable behavior. In vain. Unless she was still furious and hesitated to give him this slap he so richly deserved... He didn’t know. His mind was full of so many confused thoughts that he could no longer think straight. He was just tired. Drained of all his strength. And, with the adrenaline crashing in, he had the feeling that his body was going to collapse at any moment.

“… Were you aware that Derek was doing research on his own?”

“Let's just say I suspected, he confessed, raising his eyebrows. He was so angry that he hadn't been able to do anything to save Emily that it was obvious he was going to try to get his hands on Doyle again. Like I did some research to find Foyet in the past.”

“But you’ve never giving him your permission?”

“Unless you consider the fact that I had strong suspicions and let him do it as a form of authorization, no.”

She squinted her eyes but did not stop staring. He imagined that she had asked him this question to verify what the former policeman had said. The fact that he'd told her without batting an eyelid that he'd agreed to investigate on his own time didn't surprise him that much, and he wouldn't hold it against him. Without this initiative, Prentiss would still be on the run and Doyle a threat to her and Declan. Clearly, Morgan had counted on his indulgence to do the right thing without worrying about any repercussions.

“One day, you're really going to have to learn to communicate with each other," stressed the young woman, dropping her arms.

“We communicate.”

“No. You bark at each other, she corrected. And when you're not stepping on each other's toes, you keep as far apart as possible. You look like two opposite magnets.”

He would have been truly blind if he hadn't noticed that the relationship he had with his cadet was rather stormy, but he didn't think it was that obvious. He thought he'd done all he could to ensure that their spat would go unwitnessed, if only so that his agent's honor wouldn't be offended by a public attack; but this was undeniably another failure. Proof of this was that his subordinate, who didn't come to the field with the rest of the team, had noticed.

“… Really?”

“Really.”

“Oh, he commented, lost. That must be why he still hasn't punched me in the face.”

“Is this what you expected him to do?" strangled Penelope, shocked.

“It would have not surprised me, actually.”

To tell the truth, he was even certain that if Emily hadn't burst into the meeting room a number of hours earlier, just after the truth had been announced, he would have found himself on the floor, his mouth full of blood. And he wouldn't have retaliated because his employee would have been within his rights.

“So I'm going to talk to him to make sure he doesn't do it.”

“Why?”

“But, have you looked at yourself in a mirror? she snapped, her eyebrows furrowing again. You’re skin deep. If Derek flicked you, you'd fall apart.”

“This is exaggerated.”

“You’re kidding! I could fax you under the door, she said, pointing to the exit behind her. Come on, come with me, I’ll fill you up real quick.”

She approached him, probably to grab his arm, but he stepped back.

“Garcia, if you bring me to the same restaurant than the last time…”

“Hotch, if your mother sees you like this, she'll sue us for abuse.”

A shiver ran down his back. Although he had informed his mother of his departure abroad for several weeks, he had not been particularly forthcoming with news. The little time he had been given to call within the U.S., he had used for the benefit of his son. In fact, Ada Hotchner didn't even know that, one, her son was alive and, two, that he was even back home. She and Aaron had always had a very complicated relationship and although, with age, they had been able to iron out some of their differences, there were still many sticking points between them that regularly set them against each other. Thus, the director was torn between calling her immediately to reassure her, knowing that she would keep him chatting for hours to bombard him with questions; or waiting a day or two, even if it meant being seriously admonished for his obvious lack of empathy towards her, by the time he had regained a normal appearance and put his affairs in order, left in the lurch during his stay across the seas.

“… Before or after she washes me with a Kärcher?" he said, half-seriously.

“Come, instead of talking nonsense.”

She took another step towards him, but he raised his palms between them to stop her.

“Penelope, I… Thanks for the invitation, but I'm so exhausted I don't even know what day it is, he revealed, his head in a vice. I stink, my clothes are so dirty they stand up on their own and I still have to call Jack to at least tell him I'm home.”

The analyst immediately showed her disappointment but, all her rage gone, she sighed.

“… I see. For your information, it’s Thursday.”

“… Are you sure?” he said, confused.

“Yes.”

“Oh.”

“What?”

“Well, when I left, it was already Thursday. And yet, I've seen the sun rise and set in the meantime.”

The young woman momentarily widened her eyes before smiling. For his part, he tried to gather his memories precisely, without success. He felt as if he were floating in a cottony atmosphere that anaesthetized his senses and slowed his train of thought.

“Okay. You need to go home and get some sleep indeed.”

“I think it’s the right thing to do.”

Truth be told, he wouldn't last long tonight. Once he'd had his son on the phone, he'd run off to the shower before collapsing into bed, without lingering any longer. He was probably starving, but fatigue at this moment outweighed any other sensation he might be experiencing. His body longed only for sleep.

“One more question before I leave.”

“Go on,” he agreed, pushing from his mind the image of that pillow and comforter waiting for him at home.

“Are you going to keep the beard?”

“No.”

Why?”

“It itches.”

“I’m sure you’ll get used to it.”

“We’ll talk about it when you’ll let yours grow.”

“It will be long.”

“Don’t underestimate yourself.”

The strange duo smiled in unison after this much more relaxed exchange. Hotch was relieved to find that his most fervent supporter had forgiven him – or at least accepted – this new incongruity on his part. He wouldn't have known how to continue his task knowing the luscious blonde was angry with him.

“Can I have a hug?”

“What?” he croaked, caught off guard.

“Let me rephrase, she announced, surely aware of the suddenness of this request. Can I give you a hug?”

Very tactile, unlike him, Garcia was always ready to hug people she liked, regardless of their gender, age or social status. When the team returned from a case, it was not uncommon for her to wait for them as they exited the elevator to renew her ties with the agents, momentarily distended by geographical distance. It had almost become an indispensable behavior for her, as much as amassing dozens of colorful knick-knacks in her office. This activity ruffled the feathers of Erin Strauss, Aaron's superior, but didn't bother him in the least. On the other hand, even if he hadn't reached the point of repulsion of Spencer Reid, the youngest of his employees, hugging was clearly not his cup of tea. His nerves became tense as soon as hands closed on him, and he invariably felt uncomfortable when he had to return the favor. He never knew how much force, energy or pressure to instill into his muscles to make the moment pleasant for the other without misinterpreting it. As a result, he limited this kind of interaction to as few partners as possible.

“Is it necessary?”

“You made me mourn someone who wasn’t dead.”

The argument was unstoppable. Realizing that he couldn't cut short the embrace she craved, he sighed and spread his arms. Penelope immediately came and snuggled up to him, the top of her head sliding under his chin. She didn't recoil, didn't give a thought to the foul-smelling aroma – a mixture of perspiration, dust and dirt – that he must be giving off at this moment, and gently placed her fingers in the middle of his back. The giant's heart thumped against his ribs, panicking as it did every time someone entered his vital space. Inhaling deeply to calm his heartbeat, he in turn clasped the young woman's shoulders.

“Hotch, promise me one thing," she continued, her voice echoing in his ribcage.

“What?”

“Never do that again.”

The director moved away from her without pushing her away completely.

“I can’t promise such a thing,” he affirmed, honest.

“Why?”

“Because that would mean giving up every possible method of protecting or saving yourselves. And it is out of question.”

In the back of his mind, he hoped he would never have to face this kind of situation again; but if he did, he could not concede to abandoning this solution because, as painful as it was, it was still the one that ensured the highest survival rate for the "deceased" person. Which, from his point of view, was worth every sacrifice.

“At least, tell me before.”

“I will if you’re involved.”

“And then you wonder why Jack is so tough on business," she threw, shaking her head.

She gave him a smile in spite of everything, then left the office after placing her hand on his arm one last time. Through the window, he saw her join the rest of the group, exchange a few words with her colleagues and then head off towards the elevators. Exhausted, Aaron nevertheless felt undeniably lighter.

___

They are idiots, but I love them, your honor! X3

#aaron hotchner #criminal minds #hotch #agent hotchner #criminal minds fanfic #code name mom #agent garcia #garcia #penelope garcia

3 notes · View notes

walker-extended-universe · 1 year ago

Text

WIP Wednesday Game

Stolen from @kedreeva

Rules:

Post up to five (5) filenames of your WIPs; not titles, file names.

Post a snippet from one of them. Snippet must be words you wrote in the last 7 days. We’re posting progress here. If you haven’t made any, go make some and come back to post!

After you’ve posted, people can send you an ask with one of your file names. You must then write 3 sentences in that file. If the filename is one you can’t share from (for example, an event fic), write 3 sentences on it anyway, and then 3 more on another to share.

That’s it!

Hoyt/Emily

On the day of his release, Emily was waiting outside the prison for him. The rest of the family was putting together a little surprise party for him at the ranch. She smiled as he walked out of those doors for the last time and held out her arms for a hug.

It felt good, knowing he would be around for more of these.

She pulled back, sliding her hands down his arms. “How does it feel? Being out for good?” she asked.

Hoyt hummed. “Weird. But good. Really, really good.”

She smiled. “Good. Come on; everyone’s waiting for you. Yes, even Bonham. He’s been working the grill all day.”

Hoyt chuckled. “Now that, I have to see.” He squeezed her hand. “Thanks, Em.”

Cordell/Jessica

Jessica rolled her eyes. “I’m aware of that, Gil. What I don’t understand is why you keep calling him in when you know what he’s like. The world won’t end if he takes a day off.”

“Try telling him that.”

A knock at the door interrupted her next argument and they both turned to see who it was. A tall (and quite handsome in Jessica’s opinion) man stood in the doorway. “Uh, Lieutenant Arroyo? I’m Ranger Walker; I was supposed to talk to you about my role in the upcoming trial.” The man's eyes flitted towards Jessica. “Unless I’m interrupting something.”

“Not at all,” Gil said, standing to greet him. “Ms. Whitly was just on her way out.”

“Actually, I-”

“Jessica, please, I have business.”

She huffed but gathered her purse nonetheless. “Very well. We’ll finish this talk later, Lieutenant.”

Geri/Trey

“Hey, Trey, come on.” She stood up and grabbed his wrist. “That’s not- We don’t have to give up on a fun night just because Cordi and Cassie did. I mean, you made all this food and we already have a movie queued up….”

It was supposed to be a double date. A relaxing evening with four friends to eat too much and drink too much and just shoot the shit. She remembered the days where she and Hoyt would have those nights with Cordell and Emily and it was nice to sort of recreate them with Cassie and Trey.

Trey sighed. “Yeah. A fun night half of the people involved in couldn’t be bothered to make time for. And you can’t tell me you were really looking forward to watching the made-for-TV Hawk’s Shadow movie.”

“We don’t have to watch that movie if you don’t want to,” Geri said. “And I’m mad at them too, believe me. But we’re already here and I’ve been looking forward to this and I’ve been wanting to dig into those nachos since I got here.”

Cassie/Kevin non-ranger AU

Cassie hummed while she got ready for work, trying not to pay too much attention to her silent phone.

She was worried about Kevin. The last she’d heard from him, he’d had to escape to a safe house with the mayor because of a major threat at the award ceremony they were hosting. She was sure he was fine and just couldn’t message her for safety reasons, but she was still worried.

But she didn’t have time for that right now. She had to get to work, go over the new rehearsal schedule, and go bargain hunting for costumes. Having a fiance in city hall did a lot to help her budget not get cut but he never seemed to have enough pull to raise it. She was just counting her blessings that she still had a job as a dance teacher in a public school.

#wip wednesday #my writing #ask game

2 notes · View notes

kryptonitejelly · 2 years ago

Note

Hi!!! omg just wanna start off and say you're now officially my favorite Hotch writer cause you just have the best writing I have ever seen and you post so much for him and ahhhhhhhh

can I request a blurb where Hotch and the reader aren't together yet but he (and everyone else on the team) have noticed that the reader has really started to gravitate towards him? Like in high anxiety situations or just in general the reader is always closest to hotch or looking to him for permission or comfort? he's just obviously become the readers favorite person.

(sorry that got really long I got super excited cause I have so many hotch thoughts 😅)

A/N: hiiiiiii, you are the absolute sweetest ahhhhh. and never ever apologise, the longer the better, the more hotch thoughts the better! I hope this is fine!

Requests for blurbs are currently open here.

“Prentiss, Reid, you guys head to the dump site. Dave, JJ, can you talk to the ME. Morgan, (Y/L/N), pay a visit to the victim’s families. I’ll head to the station with Blake.”

“Guess its you and me pretty girl.” Derek slings an arm around your shoulder, bumping the top of his head against yours.

“Guess so.” You mumble, eyes darting towards Aaron who is focused on the phone in his hands. Slight disappointment running over you that he hadn’t picked you to pair off with.

“Hey now, I’m just as good looking as Hotch.” Derek teases as he watches the direction of your gaze.

“I have no idea what you are talking about.” You mutter as you stiffen, a blush creeping onto your cheeks. It earns a loud laugh from Derek as he pulls you towards the car.

“Don’t worry angel,” he drawls, “I’ll keep you safe too you know.” You don’t miss JJ and Emily’s ill concealed grins as they pick up on Derek’s words.

You grumble, words inaudible as you let Derek pull you to the car, missing the moment Aaron looks up from his phone, gaze fixing on your back as you clamber into the passengers seat of the vehicle.

You freeze, blood running cold as you feel a the cold metal tip of a gun pressed against your back. Of course it had to be the teacher.

“Jerry, you don’t want to do this.” You speak, your voice coming out steady in contrast to the hammering of your heart against your chest.

“Shut up.” The unsub sneers at you, pushing the tip of the gun further into your back. “It was all going well until you lot had to come snooping around where you don’t belong.”

“Jerry-” you begin again, but he cuts you off with a shove forward.

“Move,” he hisses, “let’s get you out where your friends can see you.”

You let yourself be prodded along by him, stepping out from the classroom into the hallway.

“Agent Hotchner.” Jerry calls out. Aaron turns and you catch his eye, gulping as you let the first sign of anxiousness slip onto your face.

“Let her go Jerry.” He raises his gun, both hands firm on the weapon, keeping it levelled at the fraction of the space behind you which Jerry occupies. “She isn’t the one you are after.”

“I’ll let her go only when you let me out of here.”

“You know I can’t do that.”

“Then I’ll kill her first,” he traces the tip of his gun up your back, along your shoulder blade, along your neck, before firmly pressing it to your temple, “and then the rest of you.”

You feel panic rise in your throat, as you clench your fists by your side, the cool metal suddenly burning into your skin. The gun clicks, the sound a death sentence in your ear. You close your eyes, preparing for the worst when you hear a shot ring loud and clear. The hand on you slackens, the gun beside your head falls away, you can smell the gunpowder, as the man beside you falls backwards. Your eyes flash open, mind barely processing what had just happened, and you feel yourself falling forward, only to be caught by a pair of steady arms.

“Hotch.” You gasp out, hands grabbing onto his forearms, searching for something, him to hold onto, your head turning slightly to a side to see Jerry lying on the floor, not dead, but withering in pain, blood pooling rapidly at the side of his ear where Aaron had manage to hit him, taking a good chunk of ear off.

“I got you.” Aaron murmurs and you let yourself fall slack against him.

“Should you be sitting here?” Dave’s lays his glass down on the jet’s table. It makes Aaron look up from his tablet, slight frown on his face.

“Your girl looks like she could use you after today.”

“She’s not my girl.” He grumbles out, but clearly caught by his immediate understanding and response to the reference.

“We aren’t idiots Aaron, the only person here who doesn’t know is her.”

“There’s nothing to know Dave.”

“Yet…” He trails off, sly grin on his face. “You are the first person she searches for in anything you know,” his voice lowers, “and you always let her find you.” His tone softens, implication running deep.

Aaron doesn’t respond, choosing instead to throw a quick glance at you, huddled in a seat at the back of the jet, face pressed against the window, headphones pressed firmly onto your ears.

“Go.” David states simply as he opens his book.

You don’t see him approach, but you know its him the moment he sinks onto the chair beside you. The familiar whiff of his shower gel sweeps over you. You glance over to find him shrugging off his suit jacket, and draping it across your front. He meets your eyes, and you nod, answering the silent question - is this ok, are you ok? Satisfied with your answer he settles back into the seat, clicking on his tablet again. You thread your arms through the sleeves of his jacket, shimmying it higher onto your shoulders.

#asks #send asks #requests are open #aaron hotchner x female reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner blurbs #blurb #criminal minds

213 notes · View notes

olderthannetfic · 2 years ago

Note

Two of the recent asks on your blog just made me realise how fucking EXHAUSTED I am of of all the "boy who cried wolf" and "boy who vaguely heard about a stray dog looking for food in their area and decided it was obviously an invasion of rabid wolves" situations on this website, and in fandom in general.

I hate that my first thought when someone on anon talks about being groomed as a minor by an older person who "let" them interact with their nsfw fanworks, is "let me guess, is this gonna turn into a spiel about how because minors often ignore warnings and can't be trusted not to lie about their age to strangers online, everyone who posts nsfw anywhere but on places you need to be given a password or to pay actual money to access is a pedophile?" Because I've already seen every possible version of "checking out the rating, warnings, and tags and clicking "proceed" when the "this work could contain adult content" thing shows up isn't the same as consenting to see adult content" and I'm fully prepared for the day when we all get hit with "if you're an adult and don't have Minors DNI in all your social media profiles and your fandom accounts you're clearly a predator.""

And I hate that my first thought when someone on anon talks about being uncomfortable with some literature classic and getting told they're just too sensitive or equated with pro-censorship people is, "yeah, well, assuming it really went like that, people ARE gonna be on the lookout for the next big clout-chasing "Mark Twain was a horrible racist bastard for not foreseeing how the English language would evolve and not using words appropriate for a modern audience so having students read Tom Sawyer in school is basically a hate crime" or "there is sexist content in 1984 which means George Orwell was a pretentious hack with nothing of value to say about society or politics" thing, or the next person saying "Emily Bronte was just some idiotic romance-addicted white woman trying to pass a toxic abusive relationship as Twu Wuv" and proclaiming themselves the one lonely enlightened feminist in the land, or the next fic writer "Dante was just some racist homophobic creep who wrote some weird Bible fic so his blatant Self Insert could keep on harassing the girl he was obsessed with even after her death" to prove they're so forward-thinking and original and deserve to be regarded as a BNF defending fandom as a whole against the hordes of evil literature professors supposedly out to destroy it... I mean, this is the website that came up with "don't use a quote about Orestes and Pylades for your OTP because that's an incest" and "gay men shouldn't call themselves Achillean because Achilles and Patroclus might have had a pederastic relationship" yet worship Sappho as this relatable quirky wlw icon without giving a single fuck about the fact that she might be the one surviving example we have of institutionalized female pederasty, and I'd trust it to fall for a whole new MedievalPOC scam before I'd trust it to give a nuanced take on any kind of literary work, ESPECIALLY any literary work older than the early 2000s."

Sometimes I just feel the wolf could be right there howling at my door and I'd probably just say "ugh, great, those stupid kids got into my brain enough that now I can't even go about my day without imagining that there's a fucking wolf howling for no reason" and not even check out of the window. Or I'd check and still assume the wolf is just a big dog even then.

It's a genuine problem. Because there are still predators out there.

106 notes · View notes

celestialspecial · 3 years ago

Text

The Sin of Desire (Pt. 10)

Werewolf!Billy Russo x Reader

Warnings: Violence, Graphic Descriptions, 18+ spicy themes, *be careful out there

Months Ago

You had been working for the company a few months now, underneath Billy as his assistant. But you were also trying to figure out how to get under him, literally. You two had more than your fair share of conversations, besides him being the most handsome man ever, you enjoyed his personality. Talking to him put you at ease, his jokes made you laugh, and while initially thinking he was a cold-blooded businessman he often made decisions that helped others more than hindered.

It confused and intrigued you. And you’d be lying if you didn’t say it turned you on. Watching him command meetings, standing in front of everyone or by the windows, hands clasped behind his back listening to the presentation, picking up on subtle nuances, asking pin point questions, and demanding the room with solely his presence. People weren’t so much scared as much as they just respected him, but yes there were also a few that were scared.

You had shoved the cheesy thought away forever ago when you’d been hired about how hot your boss was, how completely inappropriate it was to be lusting after him. How that was probably grounds for firing, but you knew deep down that a night in bed with him was probably worth the unemployment. Some days you were bold and at your desk in front of his office you’d fantasize about him, tossing you onto the nearest desk or sitting you on the copier after hours and having his way with you.

One time you’d been thinking about pulling his pants down during a call and sucking him off as he talked on the phone. When your glazed eyes realized your boss was standing in front of you waiting for a folder of spreadsheets you felt the heat rise in your cheeks. He had been staring at you, eyes darkened and nostrils flared as he accepted the folder with a small smile before sniffing the air. He took a deep inhale and his eyes closed, turning on his heel and abruptly closing the door to his office. You’d gone paranoid for about 30 minutes after that, thinking he could read your thoughts.

There were hints he felt similarly to you. Compliments on your outfits, you’d catch him staring at you from across the room. One time another male coworker had tried to grab your ass as a joke and Billy fired him on the spot. There were looks, glances, gestures and even light flirting that would go on between the two of you. Your friend Emily rolled her eyes playfully every time you’d share new info with her.

“Oh my Godddd, he’s so into you!” She’d start, laughing at how you’d immediately backtrack and talk about how you appreciate the job, and appreciated looking at him but that’s all it was allowed to be. “Do you know how many bosses fuck their secretaries? SO many, and hardly any of them get caught. This is a feminist move if anything- take control, get that damn pay raise.”

“Emily!” You had laughed, swirling the little umbrella in your cocktail drink, laughing at your friends’ antics. “I enjoy being employed.”

“But you deserve to enjoy being fucked too.”

“Jesus, pipe down!” You cackled as she made a lewd gesture on the barstool next to you. She was slightly tipsy, but Emily just got more honest with each drink, filter completely gone.

“I’m serious! This weekend is Halloween, you should invite him to like a masked ball or something. I don’t know, dress in the traditional costume of lingerie and then you can have your way with him outside of company time, and if you’re both dressed as not yourselves...” She took a long swig of her island ice tea, “Free pass!”

“I don’t think that’s how that works.”

“But it should be.” You couldn’t deny the idea seemed really tempting. A bunch of people from work had already planned to go to a club Halloween night and it wouldn’t be a crazy gesture to invite him as well…would it? He could easily say no and then maybe you’d back off a bit. Let the waters settle and decide going forward if this was just a one-sided thing you’d made out to be more in your head.

“Alright, finish your drink. We need to go out and find me a costume.” You’d said, tossing back the contents of your glass and grabbing her arm. Emily excitedly clapped her hands, and hopped off the bar stool following closely.

“I’m about to head out if you need anything else?” You had asked, standing in the doorway of Billy’s office. He lifted his head and smiled at you.

“No, I think I’m good. Have a good night.” You looked behind you at the mostly empty office, most people had gone home to pass out candy, or change into costumes and have a wild night on the town. Making sure the coast was clear you edged into his office and shut the door. He had resumed looking at the paper in his hands but when the door closed he set it down on his desk. “Or should I be asking you if you need anything else?” He joked, seeing you walk over and stand in front of him bashfully.

“Well… a bunch of us are dressing up and going out to a club for Halloween tonight- “You started, gauging his interest levels. His eyes were fixed on you, leaning forward and resting his elbows on the surface beneath him.

“Is that so?”

“Y-yeah, and I ugh, thought that m-maybe you’d like to come with? It’s supposed to be a great costume party and uhm, maybe a night off would be nice?” You hated how silly you sounded, like a high schooler asking out a boy to the dance. His eyes seemed playful, but also beneath that something akin to hunger, watching you, his eyes scanned down your body, almost too quickly to notice.

“Will you be dressed up?”

“Y-yes.” He hummed in thought, as if turning the idea over in his head once or twice.

“I don’t have a costume.”

“If you go in your suit most people will think you’re James bond. Or John Wick.” He laughed at that. You loved his laugh, it was warm, endearing. You’d only heard him laughed unabashedly once before but it had vibrated through your very being and tingled all the way down to your toes.

“Where is it again?” You told him the address and he said he’d consider it and thanks for the invitation. You smiled politely and left the office closing the door behind you feeling a tad bit defeated.

Trying not to notice how your heart sank at the reality that he probably wasn’t coming. Or was it the concern that this was the sign to buck up and move on. That what you two had at work was just that, a polite working friendship.

You had stopped in the company bathroom to change into your costume, knowing you didn’t have time to go home and change after work. Being sure to pack a longer coat to cover the no doubt scandalous looks you’d get. Making your way to the subway and checking your eye makeup on the train before your stop was called.

The streets were alive with partygoers, mostly costumed, all very drunk. You laughed at their antics before entering the club and smiling at a group of people you knew, chatting with them about the night and admiring their outfits.

With much coaxing from Emily you had settled on a skimpy Little Red Riding Hood Outfit. You’d groaned when she’d handed it to you to try on, it was so overdone you’d complained- and un original. But she’d insisted and you couldn’t deny the ensemble hugged you in all the right places and made your ass look great, which is all a girl could really ask for anyways.

Whether she was showing off to a guy or just needed a confidence boost in general. If Billy wasn’t going to see it, you were sure it’d get a lot of attention from other guys at the party.

You had had two drinks and mingled with your coworkers, but then split off when they found other people they knew outside of work to hang out with. After a few minutes you bit your bottom lip thinking this was a mistake and you should’ve asked Emily to join you after all.

Deciding to call it a night you pushed through the throng of people around you to get towards the stair case before you felt a hand on the small of your back. Jumping at the touch, spinning around about to deck whoever it was, you were met face to face with Billy. He was smiling down on you, still in his suit but with a pair of devil horns perched on the top of his head.

“See you did find a costume.” You poked him in the center of his chest. The excitement blooming in you, he made it. He showed up. He laughed and touched the point of one of the horns.

“A very drunk girl gave them to me as she was getting in her uber with about 10 other friends. She said she didn’t need them anymore.” He laughed, before taking your hands and stepping back to fully take in your outfit. His gaze was downright filthy, taking in the black leather boots, short skirt, brown bustier over a peasant blouse and the velvet red of the cape dragging over your shoulders. “You make a man want to huff and puff- “

“I think you’re messing up your fairytales.” You responded, proud of yourself for not just turning into a puddle before him.

“I think you’re right.” You didn’t realize how loud you two needed to shout over the music and the roar of the crowd. You very rarely went to clubs but this was a blaring reminder of why that was.

“Let’s find somewhere quieter.” You managed, Billy nodded and still holding your one hand turned and made a path through the crowd, staring daggers at any guy that ogled you too long. After a lot of shoving and pushing there was a VIP area sign on a stairwell, he pushed it open before you tugged back. “I don’t think we’re allowed in there.” His lips twitched, holding the door open still.

“Don’t worry-I’ve rented this out.” How? When? You stepped into the stairwell and followed him up a floor or two. He definitely didn’t own this building, unless he knew someone or had some sort of hookup, but the VIP levels were usually closed down during large parties like this for safety reasons.

When he pushed the security floor open it lead out to a VIP area, all windows and red sofas, opening to a pool deck and rooftop lounge area. The whole floor was bathed in red lights from the club and a firepit was even lit. This was planned.

“How-“You started before he pulled you over a lush velvet sofa, that thankfully didn’t reek of cigarettes or spilled alcohol. If this is how the well off went clubbing you could get used to it.

“Do you want a drink?” He asked. You’d had two already but the buzz was wearing off fast.

“Something that won’t knock me on my ass.” You smiled back at him and he grinned, nodding and picking up a phone that was on one of the side tables. He sat back down next to you, so close that your knees brushed. He leaned over, running a hand along the edge of your cape, taking the end between his two fingers and feeling the texture of it.

“I do love this.” He said, a hint of playfulness, but also a strangled taste of something, filthier.

“Would I get in trouble if I wore it to the office?” You poked, trying to discharge the electric current that seemed to be in the air.

“No, I think that… would be fine.” You let your hand drop, landing on top of his. You two had gotten away from the loud music to talk but all you could hear was your heart beating heavily in your chest, the sound of blood rushing in your ears.

He observed you again, and you felt the warmth in your cheeks and felt yourself biting your bottom lip. His hand brushed up along your arm, rising to your shoulder and tangling in the knot that held the cape secured, tugging the one end and watching as the tie unraveled and fell off your shoulders behind you.

You let out a soft breath feeling the sudden cool air dance over your exposed chest and back, the tiny dress doing nothing to protect you from even the subtle breeze that was out tonight. Finding the confidence within you to speak somewhere-

“Hey, I might need that.” You glanced back at your cape puddled behind you.

“Oh? For what?”

“To protect me from big bad wolves.” His smile was devious, a look so carnal, you’d never seen him look such a way before- unhinged. You got up onto your knees, reaching over him to brush your hands along the plastic horns on his head, relishing the sharp intake of breath he took as your breasts were pressed into his should and part of his chest.

“I like these too. And they light up.” You replied, waiting, to see if your intrusion of space was going to be fully reciprocated or if he’d back off. The feeling of warm hands on the small of your back and between your shoulder blades was answer enough.

You let your other knee find its place on the other side of his legs, straddling him fully now. Your heart was racing, eyes half lidded looking down at him, he caressed the side of your face, fingers playing with a coil of your hair before returning to cup your chin, moving you closer to him, to his lips.

Your lips found each other and you had to swallow the erotic moan you wanted to let loose. Billy’s lips were softer than you’d imagined but firm, demanding, the taste of him made you want to roll your eyes back in your head.

His tongue found the seam of your lips and requested entrance, which you wholly gave. He tasted each bit of you, dancing with your own tongue, swiping along the roof of your mouth, drawing out a small moan from you that couldn’t be concealed. His tempo sped up at that, kissing you open mouthed but also soft almost chaste kisses intertwined.

You ran your fingers through his hair, grasping at the strands and grinding into his lap fervently. He hissed at that, gripping your behind and dragging you as close as you could possibly get, well almost. Bucking his hips upwards into you, you gasped but it bled into a wanton moan that drove him crazy. You could feel how hard he was beneath you, a twitch beneath your center that almost did you in. Tongues delving into one another’s mouths and the scent of him over powering you.

“Wait.” He stopped, chest still heaving, you blinked at him wondering what happened, your mouth red and glistening. “W-we shouldn’t. We can’t.” He said painfully, his hands feeling looser on your body.

“Why not?” You asked, you knew why, but you only knew your thoughts, you wanted to hear his this time. Your hand pressed to the center of his chest, the other behind his neck.

“It’s not professional. I’ve been so…very…I was wrong to do this I-“His eyes darted around, anything to not look you in the eyes.

“Billy.” Your voice saying his name sounded so right. It forced him to hold your gaze. “Please. I-I want this. I want you.” Where was this coming from? You felt foolish as if begging him, but you needed him to know how you felt. “I’ve wanted you for so long- please.” You could see the fight leaving his eyes, replaced with the lust and desire from before, feel his heart speed up again. You ground your hips into his, swiveling them in a circle on his lap, teasing at the hardness of him.

Emily had joked you shouldn’t wear panties out, but you’d gone for a thin lacey pair, you were thinking maybe it wouldn’t have mattered. They were dripping and the wetness soaked through them and onto Billy’s trouser pants. He sucked in a sharp breath and quiet moan the second he felt it.

He was gone. He didn’t care about company policy anymore, he was the fucking CEO, screw it all to hell. Pulling you flush to him again, with a weight that pushed you down harder onto him, both of you crying out. You licked a line from his neck to the bottom of his ear, sucking on his earlobe before placing a downright dirty kiss onto his lips, tongue swirling against his greedily.

“Damn you.” He groaned into your shoulder after your lips had parted. Damn you both to hell. He couldn’t say no to you, after your wide eyes looked at him like that, pleading, after you’d shared how you truly felt, after your gorgeous body that looked like an angel but made him only think sinful things rutted against him like that.

He’d swore seen your face years ago when he thought it was the end for him and damn it all if he wasn’t going to do everything in his power not lose sight of you again.

#billy russo #billy russo fanfic #werewolf!Billy #Werewolf!billyrusso #Billy Russo x Reader #billy russo x female reader #marvel fanfiction #marvel fanfic #frank castle #the punisher #the punisher fanfiction #Ben Barnes #ben barnes character

116 notes · View notes

scuttling · 3 years ago

Text

Long Time Coming

Fandom: Criminal Minds Pairings: Aaron Hotchner/Female Reader Word Count: 6,664 Tags: 18+, NSFW, Dad Bod Hotch, Oblivious Hotch, Flirting, Reader has a few one night stands, Semi-public sex, Unprotected sex, Blow jobs/Face fucking, Hairpulling, Fingering, Praise and degradation, Dirty talk, Accidental reveal of feelings, TW blood/cut Summary: You have been in lust (and love) with Aaron for a while, but his new look sends you off the deep end, and it's enough to make you do some pretty crazy things. *Inspired by @ssamorganhotchner and these three pics. Link to A03 or read below! You are fresh off yet another unsuccessful first date when Aaron wears the new suit. You, Emily, JJ, and Penelope are standing by the coffee maker, complaining about the pitfalls of online dating and how people are never they way they seem when you actually meet in person; you have the carafe in your hand, filling your mug, and when he walks in, face in a case file, his pants so tight you can make out his hips and thighs as clearly as if he were naked… You kind of lose your shit. And your grip.

The carafe shatters when it hits the tile floor, spraying shards of glass and hot coffee everywhere; Emily gasps, Penelope jumps back to avoid the splatter, JJ runs for a broom, and you just stand there, staring at Aaron—at his tight slacks, at his belt, at his shirt, tucked neatly inside, then at his dangling tie, and finally, his worried face.

“Are you alright?” he asks, because you have literally not moved a muscle since he arrived; your boots are covered in coffee—you are thankful you dressed casually today and aren’t wearing heels, or you’d be in a lot of pain—and your heart is racing, but otherwise you feel frozen, unable to move or look away.

You’ve wanted Aaron for a long time, and everyone knows it but him. It’s part of the reason you’re smothering yourself with online hookups and blind dates and one night stands: because he is off limits, and you’re desperately horny for him, and you need to have him fucked out of your mind one way or another.

The new suit further complicates things.

“Fine,” you say after a few more seconds, and JJ comes back with the broom and dustpan, so you bend down to help her clean up your mess. It wasn’t your brightest idea, because you are now at eye level with the tight crotch of his pants, and all you can think of is working the zipper open, pulling him carefully past the fly, sucking him off until those big hands slip into your hair and tug roughly when he comes.

God. You’re going to have to go on another bad date. Or ten.

“New suit?” Penelope asks conversationally, as if you aren’t having a sexual crisis about it three feet away. “Looks good, boss.” Aaron runs his hand down his body self-consciously, but all you see are thick fingers and stomach and hnnngg…

JJ pinches the back of your arm hard, makes a face that screams get it together!!, and you take a deep breath.

“I took some of my old ones in for alterations and the salesman convinced me they were severely outdated. Do you like this style better?”

For some reason, it feels like he’s looking right at you, and you nod, dreamy-eyed, sweep your tongue over your lips.

“Better,” you rasp, and Emily and Penelope agree, probably to take the emphasis off of your slack mouth and dopey one-word answers. You try to help JJ clean up, picking up the larger pieces of glass and dropping them into the dustpan despite her protests—because you are very unfocused, shouldn’t be messing with sharp objects—and when you cut your finger on a piece, she just sighs. Such a mom.

You wince, and Aaron frowns, comes toward you, putting you not only at dick height, but a manageable dick distance, if you were so inclined; really, it’s more if he were so inclined, because you are actually fully prepared to swallow his load right here in front of your friends—all he’d have to do would be snap his fingers and point to his crotch, and the FBI would be suing you for mental distress and using the money to pay for therapy for Emily, Penelope, and JJ.

“Let’s get this cleaned up,” he says, snapping you out of your very elaborate fantasy (typically your fantasies don’t involve court costs, but this is Aaron, so anything is possible.) He wraps his hand around your injured finger and pulls you up to standing with the other, and you just follow along as he leads you over to the sink, turns on the tap to let the water run over your cut. The way you’re looking up at him like he’s the best thing you’ve ever seen has to be painfully obvious, but he just reaches over for the first aid kit, takes out a bandage, and wraps it carefully around the tip of your finger. You sigh.

It may have started out as lust, but you’re pretty sure you’re also in love.

You have got to find a way to get him to notice you as more than just an agent, a teammate, a friend, and so: Operation ‘Get Hotch Out Of His Tight Pants’ begins. You fill the girls in on your master plan, and they fill in Derek and Spencer just so there are more people to laugh at you when you crash and burn, probably. But you’ve got a plan, will be pulling out all the stops, so you might not fail horribly after all. Hopefully.

God, you absolutely cannot fail. You can’t go out with another software engineer with the personality of a peanut or another investment banker who thinks buying you an appetizer means you owe him a blow job in the front seat of his Tesla. You will go fucking insane.

Today’s plan is T for tits, because yours are pretty awesome and almost no one who is attracted to women can resist them. You wear your usual white button down top, but you leave the top two buttons undone, and you add a red, lacy bra for a little additional temptation.

“Here are those consults you asked for,” you say after knocking lightly on the doorframe; Aaron waves you inside. You set them down on his desk, then glance over the open folder in front of him, make a curious noise. “What are you working on up here?”

You walk around his desk, so you’re standing next to him, and lean forward to look over the case file with one hand on the back of his chair and the other pressed against the desk. If he would look over, he would see right down your top, your breasts high and smushed together thanks to the lacy push up… but he looks straight down at the file, taps his pen against it.

“Murders in Detroit. I don’t think we’ll go—they look like mob hits to me, so I’m going to refer the case to Organized Crime.” You hum, turn the file toward you and lean in a little closer, letting your hair spill over your shoulder, the neck of your blouse fall open. Boobs and perfume are usually a one-two punch that is capable of bringing any man to his knees, and while he does turn to look at you, it feels entirely too respectful for your liking. You sigh softly, give up for today, and turn the file back.

“Well you know best, boss. Any time I don’t have to go to Detroit is alright by me.” You flash him a smile, and he reciprocates, and you head back downstairs for a cup of coffee and maybe a stale shame pastry.

The team looks up at you when you approach, and you shake your head.

“No luck,” you mutter, and Derek laughs, crosses his arms over his chest.

“Maybe you’re not very good at flirting. What did you do?” You roll your eyes—your flirting is not the problem, it’s Aaron’s morals and manners or whatever—and walk over to Spencer’s desk, demonstrate with him what you did to Aaron; you put your hand on the back of his chair, toss your hair over your shoulder, lean in, and Spencer swallows hard, licks his lips, and looks abruptly down at his hands. That reaction, you would have gladly taken.

Derek clears his throat, and so does Emily. Hmm.

“I’m good at flirting,” you say, straightening up; Spencer is blushing, and it’s super cute, so you pat him lightly on the head. “Maybe he’s an ass man. I’ll wear a skirt tomorrow and we’ll see if that gets the job done.”

“Good idea,” Derek says, and when you walk past him, he gives you a once over that makes you feel pretty damn good. “In the meantime, why don’t you come and demonstrate on me?”

There’s no denying he is one of the finest men you’ve ever seen in your life, and earlier on in your career you might have taken him up on it—it would have to be better than Marty McTesla, that’s a given—but you know he’s mostly teasing, even if there is a thin layer of actual desire beneath it all. You just fluff your hair and take your seat and mentally flip through your closet to try to come up with an outfit Aaron can’t refuse. You decide on a pencil skirt, because that’s got to be every boss's fantasy, right? You have one you never wear to the office because it’s a little sexy, tight on your hips and ass, with a zipper up the back that you can open a little and use to your advantage. When you walk into the bullpen that morning, JJ whistles, and you grin, do a little twirl.

“Thank you, thank you. This has to work, right?” You turn to face Emily, then turn away from Emily, butt right in her face. “Emily? This will work, right?”

“That’s... definitely going to work,” she murmurs, tapping the cap of her pen against her teeth, and you have to admit you have a good feeling about this one. For as great as breasts are, your ass is your best asset, and if the open top and red bra didn’t work, this has to be your ticket to some sweet, dirty loving, it just has to.

You all head up for the morning meeting, filing into the briefing room, and you give Aaron a soft greeting and a smile just like every day, and then offer to help him pass out whatever stack of papers he’s holding in his hands—fire drills and emergency protocol, or something boring like that. He accepts the help, and you take the fliers, but instead of walking around and handing them to each member of the team like he would, you bend over the table, reach across, and drop the pages in front of everyone.

JJ is the furthest away, and you practically have to climb onto the table to reach her; you grin and wink when she takes the papers out of your hand, and she shakes her head like you’re too much, but when you stand back up to hand Aaron the extras, he doesn’t seem the slightest bit interested.

He thanks you for your help, and you take your seat and listen to him go on about emergency exits and fire extinguishers and seriously start to contemplate moving to Europe to start a new life, or something else equally dramatic.

Because you don’t give up easily, you orchestrate one more attempt to get him to show some interest in you. You know he usually goes downstairs to the cafeteria for lunch, and that the elevator is a jam-packed nightmare because the main stairwell is currently under construction (which is probably why you needed to go over safety protocol, now that you think about it; shutting down the stairwell seems very unsafe.) You usually pack your lunch, but you can go buy an overpriced salad for the sake of your sex drive, so you wait for the elevator when he does, making small talk about your mornings until it dings and arrives on your floor.

He tries to let you in first, gentleman that he is, but that won’t work with your plan, so you insist, earning eye rolls from the other passengers on the elevator. You give Amy from Forensic Accounting a dirty look and then step in after him, lean back against him because there’s really no fucking room to even take a breath.

He’s taller than you, but with heels on your ass still fits pretty nicely against his thighs; a little too nicely, you think, as you get wet just from standing near him in the elevator, the heat of his body through your skirt. You really are a mess.

There are two more floors to go before the cafeteria, and no one gets off, but more people manage to cram into the elevator, which means you press more tightly against him to make room. Someone bumps into you roughly, which makes you unsteady on your feet; Aaron puts his hands low on your hips to keep you from wobbling, and your eyes literally roll back in your head, but he just leans in to mutter, “sorry” into your ear. You say nothing, because you’d probably moan if you opened your mouth, but you shake your head so he knows it’s not a problem.

When everyone gets off downstairs, you hurry to the restroom and don’t look back, turn on the faucet and splash some cold water against your overheated neck and chest. So much for that plan. All you managed to do was work yourself up into a fury.

While you’re in line to pay for your overpriced salad, you open up your dating app and secure yourself drinks with a hot lawyer for tonight. Seduction is clearly not working with Aaron, he’s clearly not interested, and you have to find a way to move on before you have a spontaneous workplace orgasm and get fired from the job you love—all of his tight new suits have been dark so far, but if he shows up in gray, you’re not going to have the will to survive anymore. You have to plan for the worst.

The lawyer is nice enough, but he’s too short, too thin; it’s hard to imagine Aaron’s body weight on top of you when he’s fucking you, but you’re nothing if not resourceful, so you move your hands to his head of thick, dark hair and focus on that—that, and his hot breath against your throat when he comes a little too soon and mutters “sorry” into your ear.

“It’s okay,” you pant, reaching between you to rub your clit. You close your eyes, tip your head back, clench around him; you imagine it’s Aaron inside you instead, and bury your face in his shoulder when you come.

He’s willing to stay, but you explain why it’s better if he leaves, and then you fall back into bed, fumble for your vibrator, and get off again so you’re not too distracted by reality to really enjoy your fantasy.

It’s a little twisted, but it is what it is. You’re standing in the breakroom a few days later, swiping through the dating app and bullshitting with Derek and Penelope, when this guy pops up on your screen. He’s not your usual type, younger and blonder than you prefer these days, a pilot, but something about his profile makes you pause; when it hits you, you blow out a breath and look up at your friends.

“So you guys know Operation ‘Get Hotch Out Of His Tight Pants’ is officially dead in the water,” you begin, and they nod, “and now I’m focusing my energy on trying to get over him. I went on a date with a guy that kind of looked like him, and that didn’t really help, but what if…” You turn your screen to face them; Derek nods like it might be crazy enough to work, but Penelope grimaces.

“No, I don’t think that’s going to work. It might actually be crossing a line,” she says with a frown, and you look to Derek for his input.

“It’s more of a coincidence than anything, right? It’s not like he’s unattractive and this is the only reason you’re going out with him. He’s a good looking guy,” he admits, and you’re really grateful he’s willing to help you rationalize this probably terrible idea into a potentially decent idea.

You send the pilot a message, and he wants to meet up; he suggests a bar near the both of you, and you know it’s risky, but you tell him you happen to make a great gin and tonic and that you have everything you need at home, if he’d like to meet you there instead.

He does, and you don’t even make him that drink, just take off his clothes, get him into your bed.

“That’s right, babe—wanna hear you lose it for me. Say my name, gorgeous,” he groans, fingers digging into your hips as he fucks you from behind, and you close your eyes, fist your hands in the sheets, and give him what he wants.

“Oh, fuck, Aaron. Fuck me harder.” His thrusts are already rough and punishing, but this is the best you’ve felt in a really long time, so you’re eager, desperate for more. “Yeah, Aaron, just like that.”

“Tell me my big cock feels so good in your pussy.” He slaps your ass, and you moan involuntarily, press back against him, panting.

“Your big cock feels so good, Aaron, so good in my pussy. Fuck me, Aaron, destroy me.” He grunts, tenses, and moves his hands to your shoulders, slamming your body tight against his as he comes. “Yes, don’t stop, Aaron, don’t stop,” you plead, hips working together, and when he smacks your ass again you come gasping his name, collapsing against the bed with a breathless sigh.

You feel a lot dirtier than you expected you would, even though it was kind of awesome, and ultimately Penelope was right; it was fun while it lasted, but it didn’t do a damn thing to help you forget about the only Aaron you actually want in your bed. Monday morning, Aaron comes into the office wearing a tight navy suit with a striped white shirt and a navy tie, and you follow him with your eyes from the glass double doors all the way up to his office, mouth open a little. Your eyes get heavy and your breathing picks up, which is the dumbest biological reaction to a man’s ass you’ve ever had—but god, it’s a perfect ass—and JJ has to actually lightly slap your cheek to get you to snap the fuck out of it.

“Are you horny right now?” she asks, a little grossed out. “I can’t handle you.”

“I know you guys all call him a tightass, but I mean, if the pants fit… and god, do they fit.” You pick up a case file and fan yourself with it. “He’s so fucking hot. What am I supposed to do? Getting railed by fake Aaron didn’t do shit; I think I might actually have to transfer.”

“You’re not transferring. You just have to get over it.”

“Are you kidding? She’s like a cat in heat when he’s around,” Derek says with a smirk. “I think I’m getting horny just because she’s horny.”

“Okay, so why can’t I have that effect on him?” you ask with your arms open. “Do you think it’s the pheromones? Maybe they’re incompatible. Smell me—does it turn you on?” you ask Spencer, presenting your neck, and he looks like a deer in the headlights, then leans in to sniff you.

“Uh… you smell nice?” he says with a shrug and a half smile. “I think it’s just your perfume, though.”

“Put your face near her boobs,” Derek says, and Spencer starts to lean in again. “I think the pheromones are stronger there.” He pauses about halfway to your chest.

“Actually, they’re stronger near the genitals, but I don’t think that’s appropriate.”

“What’s going on down there?” You freeze and then turn to look up at Aaron’s office, where he leans against the doorframe; Spencer stands up comically fast, and you take a step back, clearing your throat. Aaron’s scowling—it’s really sexy and it’s making your heart beat in your stupid, traitor pussy—and then he sighs visibly. “We have a case, come on.”

The case is only a half hour away, so you drive, which is horrible, because you are with Aaron and Derek, and Derek lets you sit in the front just to watch you squirm.

It gets bad before you even pull out of the parking garage, because Aaron puts his hand on the back of your headrest to look behind him and reverse the SUV, and you look over at his body—his stomach, his lap, his thighs—and then quickly face forward when he puts the car into drive. You’re flushed, breathing heavily, and when he looks you over quizzically, asks if you’re alright, you just clear your throat and nod.

“Allergies,” Derek supplies from the back, and you mentally thank him for the save, but you kind of also want to smack him for putting you in this position in the first place.

You’re practically turned on the entire ride, even as you go over the details of the case, because his legs are spread and your eyes keep moving to his crotch; at one point, you think you notice his already unfairly tight pants getting a little tighter, but it’s just a trick of light.

By the time you arrive at the precinct, you are more than ready for fresh air, to put some distance between yourself and Aaron. You’re out of the car almost as soon as he turns off the engine, which probably looks weird as hell, but for your sanity you can’t give it too much thought.

The head detective and a junior detective give you a run down on the case while the other half of your team meets with officers at the crime scene. The head detective, a tall, handsome man in his forties, is looking at you like you’re a juicy steak and he hasn’t eaten in months; Derek notices, turns to you with a raised eyebrow and mouths ‘pheromones,’ Aaron is clearly unhappy about the detective’s lack of professionalism, and you couldn’t really care less about the attention. You just want to do your job and go home and touch yourself to thoughts of your boss… as one does.

The local police already have a board made up, so the three of you travel to speak with some witnesses, head back to the precinct, work the tip lines. Aaron seems to be looking at you more than usual, and when you get up to stretch your legs, he’s right behind you, following you out into the hall.

“Are you sure you're alright today?” he asks with a serious expression, hands on his hips. Your mouth waters. “You’ve been acting a little strange.”

“Stranger than normal?” You try to smile, to lighten the mood, but as oblivious as he’s been about everything else, he’s always been able to tell when you try to hide your emotions with humor.

“The last couple weeks? Yes.” He moves a little closer, and you try your best not to let it affect you—or at least not to let it show when it does. “You know by now that you can come to me anytime, for anything.” He doesn’t present it as a question, but it’s clear on his face that he’s looking for an answer.

“I know. I’m going through something… stupid,” you say with a shrug. “Something I should be able to handle, but it’s harder than I imagined.” He frowns, flicks his eyes over your face.

“Let me help you.”

“You can’t; trust me, you can’t,” you say, pleading with your voice, begging him to drop it. “I’ll get through it.” You shut your eyes briefly, exhale, and he reaches down to take one of your hands in his.

“Are you in trouble?” This is the most intimately he’s ever touched you, and it’s not just your body that sings; you know you’re in love with him, have been for a while, but focusing on the horny feelings is easier. It makes it feel like you have less to lose.

“No, it’s nothing like that. I just need some time. Thank you.” You squeeze his hand, and then Derek pokes his head into the hall behind him.

“We got a tip about the unsub barricading a house downtown; the detective is mobilizing SWAT,” he says; when he glances down at your hands, you pull yours softly out of Aaron’s grasp.

“What do you want us to do, boss?” you ask, effectively ending your conversation, and he tells you to get suited up with comms and Kevlar so the three of you can head to the new scene. Aaron is, unsurprisingly, a complete badass, storming the house along with SWAT, you at his side; it’s his way of reminding you that he trusts you, that it can and should go both ways—he is so perfectly predictable, reassuring with gestures over words even in a situation like this one. It does nothing to help you stop wanting him.

He’s a little rough with the unsub (and that doesn’t help either,) looks ruffled and kind of pissed when you climb in the SUV to head back to the precinct. Spencer, JJ, and Emily meet you there, and you take the opportunity to vent about how indescribably good Aaron has looked all day—Spencer bows out of the conversation early, but JJ and Emily are kind enough to listen to your insane, horny ramblings.

“He’s just so hot—he always has been, but the new suits? They’re so tight, and his shirts show off his tummy, and his pants show off his thighs… You guys will never understand the things I want to do to him.”

“Okay, he’s handsome enough, but you’re nasty about it—I can’t handle you,” JJ says, not for the first time. You groan in response.

“How can you say that? Have you fucking seen him? I’m not supposed to think nasty thoughts when he walks around looking like that?”

You feel yourself getting a little out of hand, and Emily and JJ look like they’re trying to shut you up, but you can’t stop yourself. It’s like the floodgates have opened.

“He’s never going to know what I want to do to him… what I want him to do to me. I tried so hard, and he didn’t even look at me. All I wanted to do was get on my knees for him and grab his ass so he could fuck my throat as hard as fucking possible—is that so much to ask for?” You pause, but neither of them say anything, just look scandalized. “I guess I’m going to have to name my vibrator Hotch now, since that’s clearly the closest I’ll ever get to him giving me an orgasm.”

“Do you really mean that?”

You jump a fucking foot, spin around, almost knocking Emily and JJ over in the process; Aaron is in front of you, his brow furrowed, arms crossed over his vest (he hasn’t taken that thing off yet? You threw yours on the table like the minute you got back), and your mouth opens and your eyes close at the same time.

Oh fucking fuck.

“We’re gonna… go,” Emily says awkwardly, and you open your eyes abruptly when Aaron speaks again.

“No, we’re going to go; come with me,” he tells you, and he turns and heads down the hall; you look back at Emily and JJ, swallow hard, and follow him, your heart beating fast.

He steps into a small room with a copy machine, table, shelves of paper and envelopes and other supplies, and closes the door behind you, engages the lock. You are torn between being very worried he’s going to fire you and super turned on, because this is definitely a fantasy you’ve had before.

“Aaron,” you begin, running a hand through your hair. “I’m sorry. I think it was the adrenaline; it makes me run my mouth and I can’t stop it, you know that.” He’s facing away from you, his hands on his hips again, and you can see the way his body moves when he sighs.

“Did you mean it, though?” When he turns to look at you, he doesn’t look angry, he looks… nervous. “Do you want me?” His reaction is unexpected—not great, but not necessarily bad—and you bite your lip, nod.

“Yeah. So fucking bad. And I’m sorry—” That’s as far into your apology as you get before his mouth is on yours, his hands on your face, lips pressing against you for a rough, eager kiss. Your hands move to his waist, pulling him closer by the vest, and he lifts you up onto the table, tugs down the v-neck of your t-shirt, mouths at your throat.

“You think I didn’t look at you?” he says when he pulls away for a breath, tipping your chin down so you’ll look into his eyes. “You think I didn’t see that lacy red bra, your perfect ass bent over in the tight skirt? You think I didn’t feel it pressed against me in the elevator, that I didn’t want to push that skirt up and sink inside you and take you there in front of everyone?”

You moan, chest heaving, twist your fingers in his hair and pull him in for another kiss, dripping and trembling at his admission.

“I would have let you,” you murmur against his lips, and there’s no doubt in your mind that you would have, if that’s what he’d wanted. “I would let you do anything: not just let you, but I’d want it, beg for it. I meant what I said—I’d get on my knees for you, anytime, anywhere, do whatever you want me to do. I want to be yours.”

He catches your mouth in another rough kiss, then puts his hands on your waist, guides you off the table, and flips open his belt, the fly of his pants.

“Oh god. What are you doing?” you ask, and he slides down his zipper, pulls you with him until his back hits the door.

“I’m giving you what you asked for,” he rasps, staring into your eyes, his gaze smoldering. It’s so fucking hot your pussy clenches.

You lick your lips, drop to your knees on the tile floor so hard it hurts, tug his pants open and pull out his thick, hard, veiny cock.

Your dreams and fantasies did not do it justice.

“Fuck. Thank you,” you mumble, looking up at him, and he wraps his hands in your hair, pulls tightly. You moan just from that and the heft of him in your hand. “Thank you.”

“Shh.” He scrapes his fingers over your scalp, hums as you start stroking him, licking the head. “Don’t thank me—I should be thanking you, beautiful, perfect girl. In what world do I get this?” There are lots of things you want to say to that, but you’ve waited long enough, will have to say them later.

You lick your lips, collect lots of saliva, and take him into your mouth, get your hands on his ass and dig your nails in. Aaron groans, tightens his fingers in your hair, and when you look up at him it feels like a fever dream, like it’s not real but a delicious figment of your imagination.

For a minute or two, you stroke him with a tight, wet mouth, and it’s got you aching between your legs, but he’s supposed to be fucking your throat, technically, if he’s giving you what you asked for. You pull off, tell him that, and he tugs your head back roughly, guides you back onto his cock and starts thrusting into your mouth, earning vibrating moans around it.

“God, you’re so perfect. How long have you been thinking about this? How long have you touched yourself to the thought of me fucking your pretty face?” He picks up the pace, pushes deeper when he sees you can handle it, and you squeeze his ass, feel your eyelids flutter as he uses your mouth, pulls your hair. “Are you a whore for me?” he grinds out, and the moan that rips from your throat is inhuman, embarrassing, and absolutely accurate. “Yes you are, baby, yes you are. My pretty whore, on your knees, mouth stretched wide and filled with cock.”

You’ve never been so turned on from a blow job, but this is Aaron, hot and dirty and forceful, everything you imagined and more. You squeeze him tighter, encourage rougher treatment, and he presses his hands against the back for your head, slams his dick in so deep it aches; you don’t gag, but it’s a near thing, and when he pulls you off you gasp for breath and whimper at the loss at the same time.

“Enough of that, baby. You were perfect, so good for me, almost choking on my cock, but I bet your pussy is wet and aching. Do you want me inside it?”

“Holy—yes, fuck, please. Please,” you breathe, and he helps you to your feet and then pushes you against the door, gets your pants down. His rough treatment has you whining, gripping the hair on the back of his head, and you kick off your boots and socks so you can step out of your pants completely. “Keep all this on,” you tell him, pants and shirt and tie and Kevlar vest and all, and he nods, kisses you deeply, presses two fingers inside you.

“Fuck,” he groans when you receive him easily, soft and wet and open, and he uses his free hand to sweep down your top, slipping the buttons loose so he can get a better view of your tits and black lace bra that’s holding them. “So beautiful, and finally mine,” he mutters against your throat, and you whine, let your head fall back against the door, and give in to the pleasure of his thick fingers moving inside you.

“Finally mine,” you murmur, tugging his hair, slamming down against his hand, and when you come it’s like a miracle; you cry out, clamp down, and wrap your free hand around his bicep and squeeze until you’re lightheaded, dazed, desperate for another.

You kiss, deep and passionate and filthy, and Aaron slides his fingers into your mouth, pumps them a few times, then kisses you again.

“Good girl. Are you ready for my cock now?” You pant, gasp, and nod your head, and he pushes your shirt off your shoulders, lifts your legs so you’ll wrap them around his waist, and pushes inside you. You both moan, kiss, moan again, and then you wrap your arms around his broad back, hook your fingers in his vest, and hold on while he pounds your body roughly against the door.

“Oh, Aaron, fuck. Yeah. Want you to slam your body against mine; want to feel it, want to feel all of you.” He looks into your eyes, breathing hard, fucks up into you, hands on your ass, his hips and torso pinning you in place.

“Sweet, pretty, slutty girl,” he pants, spreading you open and shoving himself inside your pussy. “You tried tempting me, and oh, did it work. I might not have shown it…” He ducks in to kiss the base of your throat and you cling tighter, rock against his hips. “But it worked. You dressed like a whore just for me, just so I’d notice you; do you I know went home and stroked my cock and came with your name on my lips?”

“Holy shit. That’s so hot.” You move a hand to his hair again, can’t not thread your fingers there now that it’s allowed. “Could have fucked me like this then. Could have come in my pussy, not your hand.”

“We’ll make up for lost time,” he promises, and he thrusts up with his whole body, so you can feel it pressed against yours—shoulders, chest, stomach, all the very best parts of him. “I’m not too much for you? Can you take it?”

“Perfect for me,” you gasp, holding tightly to his vest at his shoulder and his shirt at his hip, bouncing into his thrusts. “So perfect, want you. I can take it. I can take it, Aaron.” Your mouths meet for a messy, hot kiss, lots of tongue, and you groan. “Give it to me, give it all to me.”

He bends his knees a little more, fucks you so rough and hard your mouth falls open and all you can do is whimper, clutch him, gracelessly kiss back when he presses his lips to yours.

He comes first, holds tightly to your hip and pumps inside you, fills you and then some, so it drips out while he’s still inside. It feels sinful, even after everything, and with a few rough drags of his palm over your lace covered nipple, you tighten and grip him and gasp out his name.

You both slow, and then he turns you, leans back against the door for a little relief after holding you up for so long. He nuzzles into your hair, and you bury your face in his neck, and you kiss soft and sweet until you’re feeling stable enough to hop out of his arms and put your clothes back on. He rights his as well, and when you’re both put together he wraps you up in a hug, kisses you, holds you with soft hands on your cheeks.

“I really have waited so long for this.” He brushes his lips over yours, and you sigh. “You never indicated… I was trying to be professional. Then out of nowhere you were leaning over my desk and bending over the table, and I was a little blown away.” You nod, can see that, pull him down for a kiss.

“It’s the goddamn suits,” you say with a half smile, and he gives you a curious look. “Your new, better fitting suits? They fit you so fucking well it’s almost illegal; I’m thinking of pursuing charges against your tailor for reckless endangerment on behalf of my libido, and the coffee carafe, and my poor, worn out vibrator.” He chuckles, hugs you closer, squeezes you so tightly against his body you almost pass out from all the good things you feel.

“Maybe we can strike a deal,” he murmurs, pushing your hair back behind your ear, and you bite your lip, nod.

“Yeah, I’m sure you’ll think of something you can do to make it worth my while.” After a little more hugging and kissing, the two of you figure it’s time to emerge from the supply closet; you don’t see your team anywhere, which surprises you, but when you get to your phone and pull up your texts, it all makes sense.

Derek: Congrats on the sex. The four of us headed home because no one wants to ride with the two of you and your pheromones.

Emily: Yay, you did it!! Drinks on me next time we go out!

JJ: You guys are loud; don’t make a habit of that.

Penelope: I hear congrats are in order! And by hear, I don’t mean hear. There’s NOT an audio clip or anything, so don’t worry about that!!

Spencer: Emily took an audio clip. Is it normal for girls to enjoy being called a whore? You don’t have to answer that.

You take a very deep breath, give him the gist of the messages—you’re on your own, they heard at least part of it, there is some potentially damning evidence that needs to be destroyed—and you leave the precinct to head home in a better mood than you’ve been in in a very long time.

Aaron takes you out for a late dinner, and he spends the night at your place, falls asleep warm and solid and very naked in the middle of your bed.

Taglist ❤️: @thaddeusly @arsonhotchner @mrsh0tchner @ssahotchie @sleepyreaderreads @mintphoenix @meghannnnnn @disgruntledchowchow @azenpal @g-l-pierce @my-rosegold-soul @ssamorganhotchner @heliotropehotch @angelhotchner @qtip-blog @gspenc @wishuhadstayed @averyhotchner

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfic #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x female reader #hotch x female reader #hotch x reader #prompt

450 notes · View notes

where-fantasy-meets-reality · 2 years ago

Text

“We’re Not Promised Tomorrow.” Chapter 14 “Confessions”

(CAN WE TALK ABOUT THIS AMAZING GIF! It was made specifically for this chapter by my wonderful, amazing, and incredibly talented friend, @transcending-time! She always comes through the most fantastic art and GIFS! A huge shout out to her and her awesomeness.)

Masterlist Chapter 13

Pairing: Obi-Wan Kenobi x Fem OC

W/C: 7.8

Warning: EXPLICIT! Smut ending. read at your own risk and minors do not engage.

A/N: So....this chapter drops a lot on how our two protagonists. A lot of emotional angst, revelations (more than one kind), and decorations. Arguably one of the most important chapters in this very slow burn. With that being said, if the smut at the end makes you feel uncomfortable, you can skip it as it doesn’t really add much world-building to the story other than the obvious. With that being said, this was a great chapter to write and I hope you all enjoy it. Comment your thoughts and as always thank you for all the support.

————————-

The ship docked at the Jedi Temple. From the bridge, Obi-Wan could see Master Yoda and Master Windu awaiting them.

The troopers, The Jedi, and the droid disembarked the ship and greeted the Jedi Masters.

“Master Marblu, welcome back. We are glad to see you in one piece.” Master Windu smiled and gave a short bow to her.

He was smiling for once, he never showed anything other than a stoic expression, and it didn’t go unnoticed by the other Jedi present on the platform.

“All thanks to this fantastic team.” Emily gestured to the group around her.

“Yes indeed. Well, we will be consulting the Medical Droids report from the ship’s med-bay, when they looked you over, and we will determine the extent of your injuries. In the morning we will be updating you on the Council’s decision considering the duration of your medical leave. Please return to your quarters and rest in the meantime.”

Turning to Anakin, the stoic Jedi Master continued. “General Skywalker, your presence is requested for a full mission briefing. We are launching an investigation as to how Maul knew where to find a Republic ship and why he attacked it.”

Sensing Anakin’s emotions, Master Yoda tapped his gimmer stick.

“Much to say have you, General Skywalker? Feel it in the Force I do.”

Anakin rubbed the back of his neck contemplating how much of Savage’s death he was or was not going to include. He knew this moment was coming and had prepared for it…but…still, he and Obi-Wan’s conversation on the ship had left him feeling guilty and self-critical of his actions.

“Yes, I have a full mission briefing ready for the Council at their earliest convenience.”.

“Then that would be now. Padawan Tano, please accompany General Skywalker to the council chamber. Master Kenobi, you and Master Marblu are dismissed.”

Before the two Jedi Masters could leave, Emily, who had been leaning on Obi-Wan for support, practically leaped forward to get their attention.

“Masters, are General Xira and Master Sorv alright?” Emily asked quickly before they could leave.

Despite the desperation for her answer, there was a good part of her that was fearful of their answer.

The two Jedi Masters shared a short glance with one another.

“They are both recovering in the Medical Bay and will be accepting visitors in the morning. You may visit them then. But for now, they need rest and still need to be interviewed by the Council as part of the investigation. Until then, no one is allowed to see them….Oh, and Master Marblu when you pay them a visit, check in with a Temple Healer so we have your recovery progress on record.” Master Windu instructed.

“Of course Masters.” Emily bowed her head slightly.

The two Jedi Masters then turned and left, signaling for Anakin and Ashoka to join them.

Emily punched in the code to her apartment on the keypad and the door opened.

Obi-Wan helped her inside as the door slid closed behind them.

Hobbling together, they stood in the mouth of the short hallway that was the apartment entryway, as Emily took in her home. It was as if she was looking at it for the first time in a thousand years.

Obi-Wan noticed how her eyes were wide and glassy.

“I honestly never thought I would see this place again.” She whispered to the empty room.

“Does it feel any different than it did before?”

“Homier. Safer. And a lot cleaner than where I was.” She turned to him and laughed slightly, relying on humor to lighten the mood.

She felt that if she didn’t find something to laugh at that she would break down and cry for the next week.

All the people who had lost their lives aboard her star cruiser, the torture that she had endured, the danger she felt responsible for putting her Jedi friends in, the battle and rescue mission that Anakin and his team had endured….for the worry and fear that Obi-Wan had experienced; it had all taken its emotional toll on her.

Emily slowly walked over and sat down on her couch with Obi-Wan’s help, sinking into its softness.

Obi-Wan desperately wanted to stay. In fact, he never wanted to leave her side ever again if he could.

But what if she wanted to be alone? After the ordeal that she had been through, he would perfectly understand if she needed to be alone. The amount of pain and emotional strife she had endured recently would be enough for anyone, let alone a Jedi with heightened connectivity to the Force.

The last thing he wanted to do was overstep his boundaries with her and force her into anything or make her feel uncomfortable. Clearing his throat with a nervous cough, he tilted his head toward the door.

“...Well, if that's all, I’ll ju…”

Emily’s attention shot to Obi-Wan. Her wide brown eyes were glassy, full of shock at what he was about to say… and puppy-dog-like, something he was not prepared for. Her reaction derailed him. She sat upright and leaned out toward him.

“You're not leaving are you?” She straightened her position as she asked him.

“Well…..do you want me to stay?” He asked, nervously talking with his hands as hope spiked

throughout him, hopeful that she would say yes.

Emily leaned back into the plush sofa and gave him a small, half smile.

“I’m surprised you even have to ask.” She indicated to the spot next to her on the couch as she spoke.

He took her invitation.

An awkward silence hung in the air, neither of the Jedi knew what to say to each other.

Sitting down, he was now aware of how close he was to her on the couch. Granted, they had just rested in each other's arms on the ship, but this was different, the moment was different. She was being different then. On the ship, she had seemed frightened and broken. His reaction to cradle her was instinctual. Now, he was aware of every thought and emotion he had about being this close to her.

Wasn't it the other morning that they had breakfast together that he told himself he was going to stop seeing her because he couldn’t handle the emotions of wanting more anymore?

“But that was before everything happened. As much as I know that backing away is the right thing to do, I don’t think I could go through with that now.” He realized.

He looked at her. Her body was angled towards him, but her feet were tucked under herself, and her face was looking out the window.

“What are you thinking?” His voice was low, barely above a whisper, for he felt like if he talked any louder that he would be too aggressive and ruin the moment. He could only imagine what was running through her mind.

“Honestly…..I’m thinking of so much. I’m thinking about how in a matter of 2 days I went from being on a standard mission, a mundane everyday thing that we do. Next, I was fearing for my life, while watching my worst nightmare before my eyes endlessly. Only for it to end by being rescued by the one person that I have always been able to rely on.” She let her words hang between them as she continued to look out the window and not at him.

She started speaking again, “When he wasn’t torturing me, the very little time I had time to think and actually use my mind, you know what I thought about?” She asked him, finally turning to look at him.

He shook his head back and forth.

She spoke solemnly, giving him her answer.

“Regret. Regret at not doing the things that made me happy. Saying things I should have said; have always wanted to say. Using my emotions for good. Being a Jedi is the only thing I have ever known in life. I didn’t ask for this, technically none of us did. I was chosen, like all of us were, because I have a unique set of gifts, like every other Jedi. We're raised here in isolation and their ideas are drilled into us until we do not know any other way of life. We are expected to pick training, duty, and tradition every time no matter what the odds or consequences are.”

She paused thoughtfully.

“There haven't been many regrets that I’ve had in my life. I do love being a Jedi, despite not choosing it. I love healing, helping, and defending people. We get to do more than most beings do with their lives. But there are regrets I have. I don’t remember my parents or my family. I don’t even know what planet I’m from. I can’t even decide what I want to do on any random given day of my life, it is just wherever I get sent to by the Council or whatever order is given to me. If I don’t agree with the council’s verdict and I want to fight it, I’m automatically wrong and they're right. It’s the little things like that.”

Obi-Wan’s eyebrows shot to his forward. He didn’t consider any of those things she said “little”...and he knew that she didn’t either…however he wasn’t going to argue with her sarcasm, not today.

She continued.

“However, the biggest regret of all that I have surrounds you.”

She turned to face him fully now, her confession out there in the open.

He titled his head in thought. He was shocked and his eyes narrowed at her in confusion.

What regret could she have surrounding him?

“Me?.... I’m sorry if I have ever done anything to you to make you regret something.” He said earnestly.

She looked at him for a long time, blankly, not allowing her emotions to paint expressions on her face.

The silence in the room was deafening and suffocating. Obi-Wan squirmed slightly as he wanted to do something, anything to break the growing tension… especially since he had absolutely no idea what he had done.

“You really have no clue do you?” She asked him quietly.

“Have a clue about what?” He was still confused and scared at her answer.

All those years of saying nothing to him, of biting her tongue and choosing duty were about to come crashing down.

She thought she would die alone and helpless in that dungeon when Maul captured her, and she regretted never telling him that she loved him. That was her biggest regret. All the unspoken words of love, encouragement, and want. All the missed opportunities to steal a kiss, to hold his hand, or even to just tell him how she felt about him. To be there for him when he needed someone, to laugh and joke, to argue and fight for one another…not just as Jedi or even friends….but as more….

Instead of answering him with words, she decided to put her thoughts into action.

She leaned forward and rested her bandaged hand on his chest and gently pulled him to her by the collar of his clone armor.

He didn’t resist her. The look of confusion on his face was wiped away to shock when she kissed him.

She kissed him deeply. She poured her soul into that kiss. Her lips molded tightly to hers and when her tongue ran across his bottom lip, he didn’t refuse her. He relaxed and willingly succumbed to her advances. All the repressed emotions that Emily had felt in that dungeon, since forever really, were finally free.

She let him go and broke away. She sat back down on her feet again, recreating the space that was originally between them.

Obi-Wan still sat there, frozen and stunned. His eyes were still closed, as it was stuck on the kiss. His mind was moving at a billion times the speed it normally did.

She had kissed him. He had imagined on so many occasions what that would feel like. And yet, it was a thousand times better than anything he had conjured up in his mind. Her lips were soft and full. She was sweet and exciting at the same time. He felt like he couldn’t breathe as so many different emotions and thoughts clouded and raced through his mind.

What did this mean going forward? He knew what it meant and it made his stomach tighten…with want and dread.

He cleared his throat and opened his eyes to look at her. “Emily …..”

He paused to find his words but Emily took it as an invitation to say something.

Taking a deep breath, she bared her soul to him.

“Obi-Wan….I’m in love with you. I have been in love with you since before we were Padawans….. That was my biggest regret. Not loving you, no, I could never regret that. That has been one of the few things that have made my life worth living…… My regret was that I thought I was going to die and that you would have never known how I felt, that I would never get to express those feelings, to make them real. You would have never known that you weren’t just a “friend” to me. You haven't been for a long time. You were always the brightest spot in my life. When you're around everything feels natural and easy; you complete me Obi-Wan.”

He closed his eyes and swallowed hard. He had to be dreaming. He had dreamed this exact scenario a hundred times, where they said those words to each other, knowing full well that he would never have the courage to say them because it went against everything he thought to be true, that she didn’t love him and it was all just him; that and everything he had ever been taught by the code.

“Jedi did not have attachments”, was a phrase that played over in his mind like a broken, blinking neon sign.

This couldn’t be real.

“Emily…..you’ve been through a lot in the past two days. I was the one who rescued you, it’s natural to place those feelings on me. They will pass in time.”

He was looking out the window. He wanted nothing more than to tell her he returned her feelings and more. But she wasn’t in the right state of mind; he would be taking advantage of her. She had been traumatized and her reaction was natural; textbook. She was clearly in shock.

She huffed irritatedly.

“I know you don’t return my feelings Obi-Wan and that’s okay, I never expected you to…. but don’t dismiss me. I’ve known that I loved you for a long time. The fact that you saved me from Maul only reaffirms the things that I do love about you.” She spoke in a whispered tone.

His head whirled around to face hers, his eyes the size of the dual Tatooine suns. “You think I don’t return your feelings?”

Emily waved at him dismissively.

“You just dismissed me and said it was natural given everything that happened, that this is some physiological textbook incident. I wouldn’t call that type of response words of affirmation or encouragement.” She spoke more pointedly this time.

Squeezing his eyes shut, he worked up his courage and his nerve. If Emily could be brave and forthright, then he could too.

He took her hands gently into his, mindful of her wounds. He rubbed his thumbs over hers soothingly.

He swallowed the lump in his throat that he was sure was actually his stomach and forced himself to look into her eyes, finding the courage he desperately needed. It was his Emily he was speaking to after all. The one who he had lovingly watched from afar his whole life. Who he was with every night in his dreams, where they were free from the constraints of their life.

“Emily, earlier this week I told you I used to hound you or show off for you every chance I got. That I force jumped over half the training Arena just to show off in front of you….” - He chuckled - “....Emily…..I did those things because I was desperate for your attention…I thought you were the most amazing, beautiful thing I had ever seen. I used to seek you out every chance I had, even as a Padawan, because I was enchanted by you, and I still am. You are the piece I always felt was missing in my life and every time I‘m around you I am reminded of these feelings…..” He held her hands more firmly.”... You are my home, you're my center.…...I…...I love you too…”

By the time he finished his sentence they were both smiling, their hands still clasped and when their eyes met; both were full of hope and revelation.

But Obi-Wan was a realist. He knew this moment couldn’t last forever, as beautiful as it was. That outside of this apartment, a war waged on; and they had their role in it.

Letting go of her hands, he sighed. “We can’t do anything about it though. We can’t go down that path.” As he stood, he hung his head.

She stood up to follow him as he walked toward the window.

“What!? Why not?” She shot her words at him.

Opening and closing his mouth several times, and waving his hands like he was trying to grab the words out of the air, he eventually got them out.

“You were just kidnapped by Darth Maul because he knew we were friends; you can't convince me otherwise. He targeted you on purpose because of me….. But that is not the point right now. The point is, that we can’t act on these impulses. We’re at war. We are supposed to lead armies into battle every day. We are negotiators and peacekeepers.”

Tilting his head remorsefully, he echoed the words that she had said to him when they first arrived in the apartment. “... We don’t even get to dictate our own lives, you said so yourself. More importantly, we are Jedi, we can’t have attachments. Our dedication is to something bigger than ourselves; to the Republic and democracy. Always. That has to win above all else, every day.” He looked at her shaking his head, hands on his hips.

As remorseful as he was, Obi-Wan was calm and quiet. Emily on the other hand huffed loudly and held a raging storm in her eyes.

“EXACTLY! THAT’S THE PROBLEM OBI-WAN! The Republic always wins, and you know what?! The Republic didn’t care that I was being held captive by a mentally unbalanced monster, being tortured within an inch of my sanity. But you know who did, YOU! You did! You came and got me because you’re always there for me. I bet the council even gave you a hard time about coming for me, didn't they? They probably had diplomatic protocol crap…” She said, folding her arms.

He looked away from her, hating that she was right. “Anakin technically led that mission. He picked me to join him because he knew I wouldn't just sit around waiting for them to get back, that I’d probably end up following them or doing something crazy on my own…. The Council did tell me that I couldn’t go and get you, yes, you're right about that. If he hadn’t chosen me to go, I would have been stuck here, helpless.” That thought angered him.

Before Emily could fire back an answer that was something along the lines of “I told you so” Another thought occurred to him.

“That’s another thing, Emily. What if our relationship attracts unwanted attention? What if this happens again and it’s worse? What if something happens to you and I’m not here? The council won’t inform me, no one will or would even think to do so, Jedi get captured, injured, or into binds every day and sometimes we do not find out till weeks later because as Jedi, we’re not attached…If a comrade falls in the field, they did their duty….. If I hadn’t known you had left on a standard day mission that morning, I would have never suspected something was wrong. The only reason I was informed was that Maul left that message for me. What if next time the message has nothing to do with me; or what if there isn’t even a message at all and you're just captured because of me or something else happens? It’s like painting a big red target on our backs. I can't…..can’t put you in that kind of danger.”

Squinting her eyes at him, she stood her ground.

“Obi-Wan, what if it's me that has to rescue you, Mr. macho Jedi?...... Yes, a relationship as Jedi would be difficult. We would have to work together and be patient with one another to make it work. But wouldn’t it make some portion of this life worth it?”

She moved closer to him. “We didn’t choose to be Jedi, but clearly we chose each other, even if we didn’t know it. Our people are out there, dying every day because of this war; life is short….. When we were younglings, did you ever hear of someone killing a Jedi? ….Now we die senselessly because of battle droids and sneak attacks from Separatists Generals. We could both die tomorrow on separate missions. Wouldn’t you want to know you chose something in your life?.....”

Hanging her head, she whispered. “...I was prepared to die in that dungeon, that changes you; it's different than running into battle head on, thinking you're going to die fighting. I was helpless in there, truly helpless. IF that’s how it has to go for me,...I’d rather die helpless and alone knowing that I had given you everything and had chosen you every day that I could have than to die alone full of regret because it’s what “The Republic'' expects….Because that's what the Jedi want…” She spoke to him with conviction and truth.

Obi-Wan looked at her. He exhaled slowly, a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding back. He wanted to smile and let out a soft chuckle, years of knowing Emily told him that if she was fighting this hard for something, then she must have wanted it. Beyond that, he was never going to convince her otherwise, she was as stubborn as he could be….possibly even more….

Flattered didn’t begin to cover it. The woman whom he had spent years pinning over had declared her love for him…and here he was, finding reasons to invalidate her….

“What am I thinking?!” He screamed at himself internally.

“I want to say yes and never look back, I really do Emily…. But I can’t do that to you….I just can’t….Emotions cloud one’s judgment, and there are already so many emotions flowing between us, especially today. ….I could have gotten so many people killed today had I failed. Because they all care too much about me, their emotions clouded their judgment and they followed me into battle because of it, and that battle was a firefight. There’s so much that had the potential to go wrong…. What if our emotions cloud our own judgment in the future, and we make mistakes? I'm frightened of what could happen.”

His eyes grew dark, a stormy blue, and his lip, to Emily’s surprise…it quivered slightly.

“I almost lost you today darling. I’ve never felt so cold, alone, and full of despair at the thought of my world without you in it. Yes, once again you’re right; I did have regrets of my own…regret that if you had died that you would have never known how much I loved you….Yet with that declaration, comes so much more from me….Knowing that I can’t be there to protect you every day bothers me, even on a good day when I haven’t seen you in months when we were friends, I worried about your safety and wellbeing….never mind if we started dating each other and something happens.”

She softened her stance and smiled as she walked toward him, his revelation moving her, she had expected that from him.

For the first time in her life, she didn’t hold back an instinctive reaction when she had the urge. She hugged him, wrapping her arms around him and snuggling her face into his chest.

Obi-Wan initially stiffened at her hug; not used to receiving physical affection. However, as she nestled into him, he softened and wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly. He rested his lips against her forehead and left tiny kisses there.

“Obi-Wan...if this is wrong, then I don’t want to do the right thing. The Jedi may claim to follow the will of the Force but lately, all it seems is that they follow the will of the Senate and the Chancellor…. You have never felt wrong to me. If anything, I have always felt like the Force was pulling me to you like we’re magnets. No matter how far we stray from each other, we’ve always been pulled back together again.”

Looking up into his sky-colored eyes, she pleaded with him. “Make your decision based on that. If you can honestly tell me you disagree with me because you do not feel it in the Force that there is something between us…that we are meant to be together…then I will accept your answer, no questions asked, because then it means it’s not real for you. However, if your answer is based on the ideals and values of the Jedi, your inability to protect me, or some random fear of what could happen, then I am begging you to reconsider and look within.”

He rested his forehead against hers, closing his eyes and allowing himself to indulge in her physical touch. “Emily….I have felt drawn to you from the first time you looked at me…..I’ve already looked with the Force and I know what is there….it’s you, it will always be you. I feel like I’ve died a little every day that I didn’t tell you I loved you.”

His forehead was still resting against hers. Their noses were touching breath mingling.

“Then jump, Obi-Wan, jump with me.” She pleaded with him.

He conceited defeat as he closed his eyes and breathed out. He knew he had spent years wanting this more than he wanted to breathe. Maybe she was right….maybe it was the will of the living force….as well as the will of his own heart.

“If we do this, we can never go back. No matter what happens. I could never go back to being just your friend or just some person that you see maybe twice a year….. I won’t be able to walk away and forget about you if this doesn’t work out…..It could get messy….”

Emily knew him enough to know that was his way of telling her that he was scared….well not scared, worried….and that he was leaning more towards yes. But unlike him, she wasn’t worried about the what if’s…like the ‘what if” this doesn’t work, because to her that wasn’t a reality. This wasn’t just some relationship, this would be a new lifestyle. It was this or nothing.

“I’ve got a revelation for you, Mister, if you think I can go back to being just your friend after this conversation, then you're mad; knowing that you feel the same way that I do, that our feelings are mutual…. No, never, I’m not going anywhere. My feelings are too strong for you and now they’ve come unhinged, there’s no closing this box.” She looked into his pale blue eyes as she spoke.

He once told himself he would be whatever she needed him to be. At one time he thought that meant being a lifelong guardian and a friend.

Now she was asking him to be her lover, something he truthfully already wanted to be and was….even if it was just he was in his mind and had kept that opinion to himself. That’s what she needed him to be now, what she was asking for.

Bringing his arms around her again, he rested his chin on top of her head. “We’re going to have to establish some rules and guidelines. We can’t be as open about this as we’d like to be.”

He lifted his head and smiled down at her.

A surge of excitement shot through her. Her eyebrows shot to her hairline as she gave him a wide smile.

Thousands of butterflies erupted in her stomach and in her veins She felt lighter than air. She threw her arms around his neck, stood on her tippy toes, and kissed him without care.

He smiled into her kiss. Placing his arms firmly around her waist, he held her tightly as he picked her up and spun her around, and returned her kiss, unlike the first time on the couch when she caught him by surprise.

While their kisses were clumsy, as neither of them had much practice, they were full of love. The emotions that they had kept bottled up for so long now flowed through them freely and into each other, the Force carrying everything as if they were connected by a conscious stream of emotions. They held onto each other as if they would disappear if one let go of the other.

Eventually, Emily started pulling him backward, toward her bedroom, as they were kissing.

“What are you doing?” He asked, breathing heavily and breaking the kiss.

“After everything, I just went through, including the revealing of these emotions….if you think, that after all that, I’m stopping at just kissing you, then you have another thing coming.” She said seductively, pulling him toward her room.

He started to protest, planting his feet firmly on the ground where he stood.

Everything was happening so much for him. He just professed feelings he had harbored for roughly 16, 17-ish years….He had agreed to go against the Jedi Code, even though it was for love….now…this was about to happen.

It was too much, too soon.

Sensing his hesitance, she stopped pulling him toward the bedroom. She turned to face him and despite their slight height difference, she looked at him, bearing her soul to his eyes.

“Do you love me? Truthfully?” She questioned him seriously.

His ocean-colored eyes met her chocolate-colored ones. He always found so much comfort and trust in her eyes, for years they had been his guiding light and refuge. He found anything he needed to in her eyes; like how in this moment he found the courage to tell her the truth.

He exhaled, breathing a deep breath and placing his hands on her arms.

“More than anything….I love you more than anything.”

His voice was low and serious….but when the sound met her ears it was the most beautiful sound she had ever heard as if a 1000 luminescent heavily beings had sung her the words.

Reaching up, she placed her arms around his neck, “Then don’t be afraid. Because I love you just as much, and I want to know you in the ways a lover knows their partner…..This is a step that we have held on taking for a long time….please, let's take it together…”

Reaching down, she slowly and seductively removed his clone armor that protected his shoulders and his upper body. Next, undid his belt and held his lightsaber in her hands.

As sultry as she could, knowing that he would know that she was teasing him, she walked to her bedroom, swaying her hips back and forth as she walked.

He groaned and threw his head back as he sighed, watching her walk away. How could he deny her anything? He looked at her lovingly…..and with a growing hint of lust. \She looked so confident and beautiful. The look she had in her eyes that she had given him did things to him that he didn’t want to ignore any longer.

Walking forward, in one swift motion, he scooped up as she was about to cross the threshold of her room, and carried a giggling Emily bridal style, over to her bed.

Placing her gently on her feet, he rested his hands gently on her injured ones. Looking into her warm eyes, he kissed her tenderly.

Still kissing, he started to undress her. Attempting to help him, she felt him place her hands softly at her sides. “No…don’t your injured, allow me, sweetheart…” His hands slowly and gingerly undressed her. Mindful of her bruises and injuries, he only used the most delicate touch when handling her.

As he removed her tunic, she bent down to unbuckle her belt and unzip her boots. Kneeling in front of her, he leaned forward and kissed the smooth and firm skin of her belly.

His lips carried the heat of a billion suns, and his beard offered the gentle scratch that she dreamed it always would. She ran one of her bandaged hands through his hair gently as she hummed.

Looking up at her through his eyelashes, his eyes sparkled like stars. “Beautiful” he whispered to her.

When he finished undressing her, he made quick work of his clothes.

As they stood in front of eachother with nothing to hide them, Emily couldn’t help but giggle, “and you called me beautiful…”

Smiling, he hugged her to him, feeling the softness of her skin against his. She sighed into his bare, board chest, and lightly ran her fingertips over his muscular arms.

He scooped her into his arms once again and carried her to the bed, delicately laying her down on it.

Allowing her time to adjust and get comfortable, he patiently waited. Once she was comfortable, he used his arms to support himself, hovering over her small body.

Leaning down, he placed kisses all along her jaw and moved slowly down her neck. His beard tickled her skin as he moved. He elicited sounds from her that filled him with a sensation of pride. Her hands were running through his hair, one of her obsessions, as she let his lips glide over her skin.

He continued to pepper kisses along her collarbone.

He stopped and looked at her shoulder. There was a pinkish spot where the skin had been burned.

He lightly brushed his fingers over it, looking pensively at the scar. A sudden wave of protectiveness flowed through him.

The sensation of her legs wrapping around his waist and her hands gently guiding his face back to her brought him back to the moment.

“Battle droid.” She huffed. Reaching up she kissed his cheek.

Breaking out of her hold easily, he placed a sensual kiss over the scar causing a reaction from her. She arched her shoulder into his kiss as she gasped. He moved his lips up to her temple and whispered into her ear.

“If I could kiss away every bruise and scar on your body, I would.” He kissed the side of her head.

“I wish you could too, I’d enjoy that.” She said playfully as wrapped her bandaged hands around his neck and pulled him down to her, kissing him again.

“Easy, easy…. you wrists are still damaged!” He tried to break out of her hold but she pulled him back into her kiss.

A low rumble that passed for a chuckle came from within him as he succumbed to her.

Emily would never change. There was that fierceness and spunkiness in her that he always loved. Graceful and spunky were just what she was. He couldn’t treat her like a china doll even if he wanted to, she would never allow it.

He started leisurely kissing his way down her body once again, stopping at her breasts.

Before he continued, he lifted his eyes to hers, silently seeking permission. Those beautiful, ocean-colored eyes of his made her shudder with anticipation of what was to come. She could see his question in his eyes and she nodded her assurance.

He used his mouth and his hands to pleasure her there. His tongue lapped at the subtle skin and tested her pert nipples as his hands groped and massaged them.

Years of training with a lightsaber had left his hands worn and calloused; and she secretly loved it, the way it felt on her sensitive skin.

She was lost in him. How many times had she wondered what this would feel like? How she had imagined this at times when she was alone.

He was everything that she thought he would be. Gentle, loving, caring. His kisses left a trail of fire wherever he placed them. His body was strong and warm as it hovered over hers. He used his mouth and hands to pleasure her plump breasts in the most sensual ways.

Moving down her body lower, he gently parted her legs.

Emily’s breath hitched in her throat as she felt his strong hands hold her thighs open with the slightest of pressure.

Concern eyes shot to hers. “...I can stop if you want.”

Sitting up, she took his face in her hands and kissed him, her tongue seeking immediate entrance into him. She looked into his eyes and communicated her want and confidence. “I am yours….please….”

He whined as he delicately kissed her perfect lips.

As Emily laid back down again Obi-Wan placed himself between her legs, kissing his way down her thigh as he came to the center.

Obi-Wan gently lapped at her core. Emily through her head back on the pillow as she let out a wanton sigh, her hands shooting to his hair and as she rhythmically thrust her hips to his sensations.

He was better and more gentle than anything she had conjured up in her room on those lonely nights when she envisioned this very scenario.

She whispered his names, words of praise falling loudly from her pretty lips, as he interested a finger inside of her.

She gasped at the pressure and the sensation, calling out his name, begging him not to stop. Putting everything he had into pleasuring her, Obi-Wan lapped at her core to the rhythm of his thrusting and soon enough, she was spilling herself all over his palm. His hums of approval sending aftershocks of pleasure against her sensitive core.

When he was done, after he let her ride out her high, he rose up and kissed her. She could tasteherlf on his lips and she didn’t disapprove.

After he allowed her a few moments, he realigned himself with her, placing his hips at her entrance. He had very limited knowledge about how this process went, but he knew enough.

Freezing, as if ice was shot through his veins, his eyes snapped to hers. “...I don’t have protection….”

Her expression softened. “It’s okay….I took the shot and I’m up to date.…”

Obi-Wan's eyes grew as his eyebrows shot to his hairline. “...Excuse me?” He smirked.

Emily’s cheeks flushed red, contrasting with the soft gray of her bed sheet. “...Calm down cowboy, it's not what you thin,,..”

Arching an eyebrow playfully, he smirked. “Then enlighten me.”

Her eyes darted away from his. “...Well…you never know when an undercover mission might require something…or if I something should happen to me if I get captured….Always good to have a failsafe….”

Shaking his head back and forth, but with a good-natured smile, he leaned closer to her ear. “...My little minx always was a smart girl…”

Taking himself in his hand, he asked her permission one final time. “Are you ready?”

Reaching out for his free hand, she took it and gave it a firm squeeze. “For anything so long as it's with you.”

His eyes snapped shut….he didn’t know if he would ever get used to how much he loved her.

Her breath stilled as she closed her eyes. He radiated love and gentility. She had never felt so safe in all her life and she was more vulnerable now than she had ever been before.

He kissed her passionately as he wrapped his arm around her. He then rested his forehead against hers, eyes closed, as he whispered to her. “I love you so much. I always have.”

“I love you too. Obi-Wan, you are the only thing I have chosen every day; even if I never told you, and you’re the only thing I want to keep choosing every day from now on.”

He was overwhelmed with emotion; for once, he didn’t care. This beautiful woman whom he had known since he was a child had secretly always and truly returned his love. He had never known, all those years he spent pining over her, that she was feeling the same way.

Now it was as if every dream he had ever had was coming true.

He leaned in and whispered to her, “Are you sure you want to do this? We don’t have to go any further if you aren’t up for it. There is no pressure, I can stop right here.” He ran his hand through her hair, looking at her lovingly.

Oh, this man was going to be the death of her. He was always such a gentleman and naturally had to triple-check everything, making sure her utmost comfort and assurance was his before he proceeded. She knew that if she had made the slightest protest he would have thought nothing of stopping then and there, and she would have never heard a word about it against her.

She wrapped her legs around his hips, drawing him tightly to her. “Yes, I’m sure.”

Obi-Wan had to close his eyes to steady himself. The sensations were threatening to overwhelm him.

Inserting the tip of his member into her entrance, he pressed himself into her gently, slowly.

All at once, the Force exploded around them like a sonic shock wave, It was as if they became part of each other.

They could feel their minds being invaded by one another without either of their doings.

Emily cried out and pressed her head into the pillow.

Obi-Wan froze, terrified he had done something to hurt her in addition to the new sensations they were feeling.

Sensing his fear more strongly than had experienced his other emotions, she rested a hand on his cheek. “It’s the Force, remember…”

He huffed as he nodded his head vigorously.

“ - It's like an amplifier for you.” He grunted, finishing her sentence.

If this was how he was feeling, what was she going through?

Emily looked like she was being pinned down by pain as if the Force would overpower her.

He focused, sending out his Signature to surround her and create a protective barrier around her.

She was suddenly overwhelmed by him in the most positive way. She had another direct link to him. His scent, his emotions, his presence, and the feeling of his body against her, it centered her; he wrapped his sapphire-colored Force Signature around her like a blanket and basked it in it.

Obi-Wan would always find the empathetic like connection that healers had to Force both daunting and fascinating. However, to Emily, she knew no other way of life, the Force was always this looming presence that she had to learn to tame and work with. Once she did, the living force itself was like an extension of her persona and power.

Due to his caring actions, everything became bearable for her, as he was pulling the energy off of her, making it so that they shared the sensations equally rather than everything being forced on her.

She sighed contentedly.

“You have no idea how much I love it when you do that. It truly is the best feeling in the world. I feel like I’m invincible and truly safe when I am wrapped in you.”

He had never known. All the times he had done it, he had done so because he thought it was just easier for her to cope with things. Any pain or burden he could make easier for her, he would do so.

Knowing now what it meant to her and how she felt, it changed everything.

Obi-Wan smiled as he nuzzled her. He sent another loving surge around her, kissed her softly, and gently pressed forward into her all the way.

He kept his movements soft and gentle, cradling her against him as he made love to her.

It was all about her experience for him; everything was always about her. He could feel the mix of pain and pleasure that she was feeling as he moved. He continued to keep his actions soft and sensual until he could feel her pleasure start to increase.

Wrapped in his Force Signature and lost in his sensations, she became able to find his rhythm and matched it to her own.

Obi-Wan would always recall the sounds she made from his movements with fondness. She was so soft, so delicate; but passionate and strong. His heart exploded with love for her. He knew he would never have the words for it; he wasn’t good with words in an emotional sense even on his best day. But if he could show her through his actions how much he loved her, he would do anything for that opportunity.

Emily would always remember how gentle and full of love he was. This man who was a General and an expert swordsman treated her like she was a delicate flower; like a rose. He was a no-nonsense man whose presence commanded respect, and yet, he kissed her like he could breathe life into her. He made love to her as if he worshipped her. She gave herself over to him fully.

Time stopped moving for them, neither had any concept of reality. They could only feel each other as they both climbed higher and higher, chasing their pleasure.

They moved as one, mentally and physically.

Feeling her walls tightening around him and her release approaching, Obi-Wan cupped her face, cradling her while his other slipped between her legs to increase her pleasure.

“....My darling….my sweet girl….whenever you are ready….”

With the precise movements of his fingers and the strokes of his hips, they reached their finish together.

When they were done, he held her tightly in his arms. He whispered words of love to her and dusted her glowing skin with soft kisses.

She grabbed his face, searching for a more passionate release, and kissed him tenderly.

She eventually snuggled into him and he pulled the covers up around them both.

As they drifted off to sleep in each other's arms, each knew that for the first time in their lives that they had made a choice for themselves, not one based on what was expected of them.

They had chosen love.

They had chosen each other.

For once their dreams wouldn’t be better than reality.

@nanagoswife @transcending-time @sillynilly27 @kirstenvldfan21 @the-clones-and-me @thewhitedannimal @tamnight @arrthurpendragon @lucyysthings @naughtyry

#obi wan kenobi #Obi-Wan Kenobi #obi #obi-wan #obi wan #obi wan fanfiction #obi wan fluff #obi-wan kenobi fanfic #Obi-wan X oc #Obi-wan kenobi X oc #obi-wan smut #obi-wan imagine

27 notes · View notes

aalissy · 2 years ago

Text

Sentimonster

I had a lottt of fun writing this chapter hehehe. I looove writing Adrien is a sentimonster fics. I hope you like this chapter :). Even if it’s a lil angstier than usual.

AO3

Ladybug felt her own eyes brim with tears as Adrien collapsed into her arms with a heavy sob. Slowly, she rubbed his back, trying to offer him some modicum of comfort. She glared daggers at Gabriel Agreste and Nathalie Sancoeur as they were led into the back of a police car. Both of them were squirming and arguing with the officers as they roughly shoved them forward.

Good, Ladybug couldn’t help thinking. They deserved that sort of treatment after everything that they had been doing to Paris. And to Adrien. Her heart twinged in her as chest as she once again looked down at the boy who had thrown himself into her arms. His body was still shaking with suppressed sobs and she was all at once glad that the police had taken care of Gabriel and Nathalie. Because, right now, with the fury burning within her at what they did to their son... well, it certainly wouldn’t be pretty.

Regardless, Ladybug couldn't help breathing out a tiny sigh of relief. It was finally over. She and Chat... Adrien, she reminded herself, had done it. Hawkmoth was gone and would no longer be terrorizing the citizens of Paris. Well, with akumas anyway. A heavy weight fell on her shoulders as she looked down once again at Adrien. It wasn’t over for him. It would likely never be over for him. But she would always be here, loving and taking care of him. No matter what.

Squeezing his shoulders, she was about to questioningly murmur if he wanted to get out of here before a voice interrupted her. “This is all your fault!” Gabriel Agreste’s icy cold voice shouted over to them. “If Emilie hadn’t damaged the Peacock miraculous making you then none of this would have happened! I wouldn’t have needed either of your miraculouses and I would have been happy with my wife!”

Adrien tensed in her arms and she saw red. Murderous rage welled up inside her and Ladybug whipped her head up to scowl at him with a pair of blazing, blue eyes. “You shut UP!” she screamed, cuddling Adrien close to her protectively. A wave of pride hit her when Gabriel flinched back, turning a pair of wide eyes to her instead. “This is all your fault! Adrien grieved for his mother and you know that! That’s exactly what you should have been doing instead of committing terrorist acts! You made these decisions Gabriel and now you’re getting the punishment for them! You’re only lucky that the police are handling you right now and not me!”

Practically shaking with anger, Ladybug stared at him with murderous intent until he was finally shoved into the back of that police car. Once he was finally gone, she stood up, scooping Adrien into her arms and flinging her yo-yo through the air. There was only one destination in mind right now. Their place. The top of the Eiffel Tower.

Ladybug had to get him out of there and she hoped that their spot would make him feel at least a little better. The amount of late-night patrols and chats they had up here when she was feeling down meant everything to her. Now, it was finally her turn to pay the favor. She only hoped that she was half as good at it as Adrien was.

Touching down on the cool metal, she slowly put him onto the ground. Ladybug winced with pain as he snuggled closer to her in an attempt to remain in her arms. But they needed to talk. When she put him down, Ladybug peered up into his red-rimmed eyes which were currently avoiding hers, trying to give him a shaky smile. “Adrien, mon minou. Please look at me.”

“I can’t,” he said with a wobbling voice. Adrien sucked in a gasp, shaking his head roughly as tears streamed down his cheeks once more. “You heard him, Ladybug. This is all my fault. I’m a monster.”

“No. No, you are not, Adrien.” Ladybug turned his head to face hers, determination fueling her. She stared at him with a pair of serious eyes. She would never let him think of himself as a monster. Especially when he wasn’t one. “Adrien Agreste, you are a hero. Paris’ best hero. You save people. You save me. Nearly every day. I would not have been able to do this without you. Regardless of whether you were created from the peacock miraculous or not. You are you. And that is someone who is kind, considerate, thoughtful, wonder-”

Before she could even finish listing off all the things she loved about him, Adrien had thrown his arms around her. “Thank you, Ladybug,” he whispered.

“Of course, Adrien. There is nothing that I wouldn’t do for you, ever. You’re my best friend... m-my partner.”

Hugging him tighter to her, she buried her face in his shoulder. It was time. It was finally time. Of course, Ladybug had always dreamed that they would do this together. Clenching their eyes shut as they both whispered their detransformation phrases. And, she had certainly hoped for a lot less pain and tears. But that had all been ripped away by the fact that Gabriel Agreste had been Hawkmoth the whole time.

Of course, Adrien had detransformed to confront him. She would have done the exact same thing if it had been her papa. She’d have wanted him to know that it was her he had been hurting this whole time.

Sucking in a deep breath for courage, Ladybug pulled out of his arms to give him a shy smile. Quietly, she murmured, “So I suppose it’s finally time, huh?”

Adrien blinked at her, tilting his head in an adorably confused manner. “Time? Time for what?”

Good. He was at least a little less focused on what just happened. “Time for this,” she said before whispering her detransformation phrase, “Tikki, spots off.”

Slowly, the magic fell away and there stood a shy, blushing Marinette. Lifting her hand up in a wave, she stuttered, “H-hello, Adrien.”

“Marinette.” He breathed out her name reverently. It sent goosebumps up her spine, leaving her feeling just as lovestruck as she was when he gave her that umbrella all those years ago.

Suddenly, she was wrapped up in a tight embrace as he clutched her to him once more. “Of course it’s you! It couldn’t have been anyone else! I’ve only ever been in love with you!”

And, suddenly, Marinette was hazy with confusion. In love with her? Surely he couldn’t mean...

“W-what?!” She leaned her head back to stare at him with a pair of wide eyes.

“I know.” Adrien grinned at her sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “You don’t feel the same way because of that other boy but I-”

She cut him off by throwing her arms around his neck and kissing him. It was as soft and perfect as she had imagined. Marinette could have stayed like this forever if she didn’t need to tell him she loved him too.

Disconnecting their lips with a gentle pop, she smiled back at him. “It was you, Adrien. It was always you. You were the other boy. I love you. You've always been my Buttercup.”

Adrien’s eyes widened before he captured her lips in another wonderful kiss. Sighing happily into his mouth, she let herself melt into him. Right now, there were no worries... no cares. Right now it was just two teenagers in love. And when they finally pulled apart they would figure everything out, together. Just the way they always had.

#ladrienjune2022 #ladrienjune #ladrien #miraculous #miraculous ladybug #ml #mlb #fic #fanfic #ml fic #adrien is a sentimonster #sentimonster adrien #angst #hurt/comfort #reveal #identity reveal

32 notes · View notes

13uswntimagines · 3 years ago

Text

A Little extra PDA (Omega!Alex x Alpha!Reader)

Request: omega Alex, maybe it was during the 2019 World Cup where she keeps getting fouled in every match so her alpha is extremely protective and they are just very cuddly in general?

Author’s Note: So Idk what this is, but i hope you enjoy it.

World cups were hard. Just being there was difficult, and winning- well that was even more of a challenge. But that wasn’t the part you and your team were struggling with the most. It was controlling your instincts that was proving to be the hardest thing you had to do. Even Alex straddling your lap didn’t put your inner alpha at ease.

With your mate being who she was, and you Being who you were, you should have expected and prepared for the special… attention teams were paying the two of you. But there was a limit to how much you could tolerate other alphas roughing up your omega (a very high limit) and you had just found it.

You let out a low growl and pulled the forward’s body tighter to you. You glared towards the alpha goalie who had gotten too close to the two of you, dominant pheromones pouring off you in waves. Alyssa froze mid-step, glancing helplessly at Becky as you bared your teeth over your omega’s shoulder.

The team had never seen you quite this territorial. You were usually one of the most relaxed alphas on the team. You didn’t flip out when Alex flirted with other people (you were more than used to her personality as you had been mated since college), and the fans' obsession with your mate (and her determination to meet them all) didn’t even phase you.

But throughout this tournament, your tobin level chillness seemed to dwindle and the team had absolutely no idea how to handle this new and terrifying side of you.

“Y/n, it’s ok. Alyssa is just going to her locker. She won’t touch Alex,” Christen said softly, holding her hand up to stop Alyssa from stepping any further.

Your head snapped towards your oldest friend and you bared your teeth.

“Yeah, that doesn’t work on me,” She laughed, rolling her eyes. Christen had known you since the two of you were pups and she knew that you were more bark than bite, especially when it came to her (hell even Tobin trusted you with her omega). She may be an omega, but she wasn’t afraid to call you on your bullshit, and you usually responded well to her (almost as well as you did to Alex).

“No,” You growled, eyes turning back to Alyssa who had taken an unwise step forward. You let out another wave of dominant pheromones that had the keeper frozen in her tracks. Her locker was too close to you. Too close to your mate.

Alex sighed in your lap, finally pulling her face out of your neck. She shared a look with Christen, before using one hand to turn your chin away from the keeper and towards her. Your snarl ceased immediately and your scent shifted into something much more inviting for your mate.

She ran a soothing finger over your cheek, leaning in very close to you. “Baby, she’s not gonna hurt me. And I’ve got you to protect me anyway,” she said softly and you could feel her breath across your lips.

You hummed (the team didn’t know if it was in agreement or denial), and leaned in the final centimeter to connect your lips with Alex. Alex’s fingers tangled in the baby hairs at the back of your neck and pulled you closer to her. She could feel how settling holding her was for you leaking through your bond.

You were so engrossed in the kiss that you didn’t notice your mate waving Alyssa over with her free hand. The keeper crept forward towards her locker, and it wasn’t until she got there that you realized she had entered your little bubble.

A loud growl ripped from your chest and you attempted to pull back, but Alex’s fingers tightened on your neck and her free hand slipped under your shirt to scratch your abs gently. “No baby, focus on me,” She murmured, pulling you in for another kiss.

Your low growl turned into a purr as you slipped your hands into the waistband of Alex’s kit shorts and squeezed her ass lightly.

Alyssa very quickly finished what she was doing, terrified of facing your wrath again (though she was pretty sure that Alex had you adequately distracted- she was really going to have to thank the omega later).

Emily scrunched her nose at the display, leaning very close to her alpha to whisper out a nearly inaudible “That’s gross,”

Alex couldn’t stop your angry rumble this time, or how you disengaged from the kiss to bare your teeth at the frat daddy pair (though you didn’t remove your hands from your mate’s ass).

“whoa, whoa. I meant that lovingly,” Emily said, raising her hands in defense.

You had known Kelley almost as long as you had known Christen, and the grace you showed her usually extended to her mate as well. But it wasn’t a good idea to fuck with you when your instincts were already so far on edge. She was just lucky that you didn’t hit her with the dominant scent you used to deter Alyssa (you would never risk overstepping with an omega though).

Kelley nudged her mate’s side, eyeing you very carefully. She had seen you like this only once before, just before you and Alex had mated for the first time, and that had ended in a fistfight.

“Try not to provoke her more alright?”

“But it’s so fun,” Emily whined, leaning further into her alpha to avoid your glare.

Alex shot the other omega a look over her shoulder. “Not the time,” she huffed, her fingers resuming their rubbing on your abs and the back of your neck, and she let out her own soothing scent, trying to ease your inner alpha.

It wrapped around you like a thick blanket, and you allowed it to calm you enough to look away from what your inner alpha was convinced was a threat to your mate (you knew there were no threats within the team, but you couldn’t help the roaring in your chest). When you did, she pulled the hand that was rubbing your neck back, so she could run her fingers along your cheek, brushing stray hairs behind your ear.

You leaned into the touch, closing your eyes, letting yourself relax into her for the moment.

“And you two can’t talk anyway. You’ve literally been caught by everyone on the team,” Tobin smirked, pulling Christen into her for good measure. She was sure she would lose some of her chill too if her mate was getting taken down half as much as Alex was. Hell, she was impressed with how much control you were showing over your inner animal (though that could still change considering you had 3 very difficult games ahead of you).

“I take offense to that,” Emily grumbled, drawing the room's attention back to her (several of the vets rolled their eyes), now was not the time to try and lift the room’s vibe with humor. You weren’t in a stable enough mood to laugh it off like you typically would.

Another low growl rumbled in your chest, but Alex’s hand in your cheek kept you from actually turning away from her again. “Good,”

“Be nice,” Alex chastised softly, leaning in to place another kiss to your lips (physical touch was always the best way to distract you. Plus you were a really good kisser).

“Hmm, what’s in it for me?” You asked against her lips.

She smirked, pulling back just a little, and twirling one of your stray hairs between her fingers. “I’ll let you do that thing you like after we win,”

You hummed, leaning up to kiss the underside of her jaw, grazing just below her scent gland. “I believe we have a deal,”

The team sighed in relief that Alex seemed to have you back under control. They would definitely take a little extra PDA over you being a knothead anyday.

#uswnt imagine #uswnt imagines #uswnt x reader #alex morgan imagine #alex morgan x reader

506 notes · View notes

lipstickstainz · 3 years ago

Text

true lies - s. r. (14/15)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Series Summary: Spencer is furious, when you rejoin the team after a year and after you left him, when he got arrested. Little does he know, that you leaving him was the only option to ever get him out of prison.

Chapter Summary: Leaving is the only option - right?

Warnings: angst, blood (but not much), break up, drug addiction (mentioned), alcohol consumption

Word Count: 3.3k

A/N: hello lovies. I'm back and my mind is full of ideas! I hope you like it! gif not mine.

Series Masterlist

previous chapter

You watch the coffee in your cup as if it has all the answers for the future hidden in the caffeine. It's eight o'clock in the morning, and this is already your third cup of the sacred liquid, and you're sure it won't be your last. The shadows under your eyes are a sign of your nightmares that haunted you last night. The fact that you have them doesn't bother you, after all, you've been going through the procedure for months. What bothers you is the fact that you couldn't wake yourself up this time. You've gotten in the habit of pinching yourself when it would get too painful, but something stopped you last night. And the fact that you don't know what exactly bothers you the most.

"Y/N." Emily's voice pulls you out of your thoughts and you have to tear your gaze away from your coffee. "What do you think?"

All eyes are on you and out of nervousness you'd like to slide around in your chair, but suppress the urge. You haven't been listening for the last few minutes, too busy with your own thoughts and problems that you can't answer her. The case is supposed to be your last, and you're trying hard to enjoy it and value the time with your friends, but really you're just waiting for it all to be over. Most of all, you want to pack your things and leave.

You barely noticeably shake your head for Emily to continue, and turn your attention back to your coffee, which must be cold by now, but that doesn't stop you from drinking it down to the last drop. Without saying anything, you get up from your chair to get another one, paying no attention to Emily's annoyed look. As you fill your cup in the precinct kitchen, she stands right next to you.

"You're not being very helpful, Y/N," she says coolly as you take a sip. You know her manner is all pretense, because in reality she's incredibly concerned. She only needs to look at your face once to know what's going on in your head, but she doesn't address it. She knows you'll talk to her when the time is right. But you're not sure that will ever happen. "I've already assigned the tasks. You stay here and work with Spencer to gather all the important information that may be relevant to Penelope's research." The look on your face says it all. You don't want to spend any time with Spencer, and certainly not alone, but Emily gives you no choice. Before you can say anything back, she disappears out the door with the others.

With your coffee, which you now wish had a strong shot of vodka in it, you make your way back into the conference room, where Spencer is bent over the table, passing pictures and notes back and forth. You stop in the doorway and watch him for a brief moment, and only then do you notice the narrow, red scratch on his face that stretches from his cheek to his neck. You squint your eyes. It hadn't been there yesterday after all.

"What happened?“, you ask as casually as you can as you sit down and set your cup down on the table. As Spencer looks at you questioningly, you point to his face. "Looks bad." Indeed it does, though it's just a scratch. There's bloody crust in a few places, contrasting in color with his pale skin. Something really got to him.

"Cut myself shaving“, he replies curtly, glancing again at the pictures in front of him. You haven't seen him in two years, don't actually remember who he is exactly, but you still know when he's lying. And when to stop asking and let it go. When Penelope calls, you discuss some stuff and you see Spencer scratching over the wound until it bleeds, which he doesn't seem to notice, which is why you stall Penelope on the phone and grab his hand as soon as the line goes silent. Astonished, he looks at you before looking at his fingers.

"Come with me“, you say briefly and don't even wait for him to follow you. You approach an officer and ask for a first aid kit, which is immediately made available to you. Spencer follows you uncertainly into one of the washrooms, where you already put on the disposable gloves from the box - you don't want any bacteria to get on the wound - and wet a towel from the towel dispenser. Reluctantly, Spencer leans against one of the sinks, waiting for your instructions.

"Tilt your head to the side a little, please." You take the damp cloth and gently dab along the scratch to remove the dried blood. Spencer has to swallow at the touch and you see his Adam's apple bob, and really it shouldn't be that attractive, unfortunately it is anyway. You have to concentrate because this is the closest you've been to him in years. You breathe in his scent, feel his warmth through your gloves, and can barely stifle a deep breath.

"How do you know how to do that?“, he asks softly as you disinfect the wound, and Spencer has to pull himself together to keep from reacting to the burning from the alcohol.

You look at him briefly before turning your attention back to the scratch. „Experience“, you reply, spreading some wound healing ointment over it before taking off your gloves and disposing of everything in the trash can. You then put the first aid kit back together. As you turn around, Spencer is standing right in front of you.

"You didn't tell me you were having nightmares“, he whispers, and confused, you look at him. There's concern in his gaze, and if you're not mistaken, a little affection too, but you push the thought aside, not letting yourself have hope. Hope has only harmed you lately you have not moved forward a bit.

You look once more at the scratch, and then into his warm eyes. "You didn't cut yourself shaving“, you count one and one together and clench your jaws. He doesn't need to answer. You did this to him, you just don't remember. The reason you didn't wake up is Spencer. He was probably holding you, reassuring you so much that your body turned off its protective mechanism. It had certainly been the last time he did that, and you hadn't been awake to enjoy it.

"Why didn't you tell me about this?“, he asks, wanting to reach for your hand, but you take a step back. You don't want him to touch you. You'd prefer it if you weren't in this situation at all. You'd prefer that you hadn't come back at all. None of this should have ever happened.

"It's none of your business anymore, Spencer." Your tone is cool and something in his face changes.

"I thought we were friends."

You have to suppress a laugh. Two years ago, you could have lived well with being friends with him. You were prepared for it then, wished it on him, and meant it sincerely. Only lately you've been through so much that you can't even imagine it anymore. The two years had been hell, but you are sure that you can't live next to him without being able to be with him. You can't watch him and Max be happy together, and even though his happiness is everything you want, you'd rather he be happy with you. But you can't tell him that, it would be unfair and selfish. So you just look at him.

Then you reach for the small suitcase and push past him towards the exit.

You're glad when the case is over and you arrive back at Quantico. It's been a week since you and Spencer spoke, and luckily for you, you've continued to be spared nightmares, for which you're quite grateful. Not that Spencer is going to join you in bed one more time to calm you down.

As you walk from the airfield back to the building, you fall back a bit, watching the team joke and laugh with each other despite their fatigue. Most of all, you'd like to leave right now without saying goodbye. Rip off the band-aid, without anesthesia. Short and painless. But your plan is foiled when Emily suddenly walks up beside you and puts a hand on your arm.

"We're going for a drink." She raises an eyebrow expectantly. Apparently she's waiting for you to decline the invitation, and all too gladly you'd like to meet her expectations, but it's almost certainly the last night you'll see each other, at least for an extended period of time, and short and painless wouldn't be fair to her - your best friend.

You smile at her. "You're paying for the first round."

Her eyes widen in delight, but before she can say anything back, Luke, who has overheard your conversation, interferes. "We're going out for drinks?" A grin spreads across his face, almost reaching his ears, and suddenly the rest of the team pricks up their ears. Luke's gaze is fixed on you. "I bet I can drink you under the table by now, Y/N."

„You can’t“, Matt replies, and you see Rossi smile to himself. "Last time you did that, you almost passed out after four shots."

"JJ got the drinks. Maybe she mixed something in“, Luke tries to defend himself, but the blonde raises her hands.

"I'm not responsible for your kindergarten drinking. But I'd love to see you try to drink Y/N under the table." She smiles at you and winks, and you can't help but grin. It feels good to know that all is well between you and the team, even though they know with a high probability that you won't be staying. You'd understand if they were mad at you, but that doesn't seem to be the case. JJ looks at Spencer, who is being less than forthcoming. "You coming, Spence?"

He risks a quick glance in your direction before adjusting the bag on his shoulder. He knows this will be your last night. And that you won't see each other again after this. "I think I'll sit this one out“, he replies curtly, but JJ nudges him and he gives her a dirty look.

"You can't avoid it, Spence."

You'd rather he'd gone home.

The first drinks are on Emily, as promised, and the ones after that are on Rossi, and it's actually not long before Luke is sitting at the table with a glass of water, wishing he'd slowed down. You grin at him from the dance floor where JJ and you are swinging your hips, and he sticks his tongue out at you before putting his head in his hands and sipping water through the straw in his glass.

JJ reaches for your hand and pulls you close before wrapping her arms around your neck. "I'm going to miss you“, she almost yells so you can hear her over the loud music. You smile weakly at her. There's a glint in her eyes, probably from the alcohol, and only now do you realize how much you're really going to miss her.

"I'm going to miss you too“, you reply, risking a quick glance in Spencer's direction. He's sitting next to Luke, looking completely out of place. You look back to JJ and without further ado, she puts her hands to your cheeks and presses a kiss to your mouth. When she pulls away from you again, she just grins at you. "What was that for?"

"I want you to know that we love you. We all do. Remember that when you're lonely, and call if you need anything. You are and always will be a part of our weird family."

You wait a brief moment before pulling away from her and disappearing into the ladies' room. As soon as the door slams shut, tears stream down your cheeks and you have to hold onto the edge of the sink to keep from breaking down. You were aware of how much the others would miss you, but hearing it from JJ only makes it more real. By leaving, you're not only leaving Spencer behind, but everyone else as well, and that's so selfish of you that bile rises inside you and you almost throw up. You wish you hadn't had those last two drinks.

"Y/N?" You don't have to turn around to know it's Spencer. You recognized his voice and can see him in the mirror above the sink.He's standing behind you, unsure of what exactly to do, which is why he buries his hands in his pants pockets and looks at you silently.

You wipe the smeared mascara from under your eyes before turning and leaning against the basin. "This is the ladies' room, Spencer. You're not supposed to be in here.“

"I'm right where I'm supposed to be“, he replies, but doesn't move from the spot. He watches you brush your hair out of your forehead and wipe at your hot face to get rid of the tears. "You don't have to go. You know that, right?"

You look up from your shoes, straight into his eyes. "Yes, I do."

You want to leave the washroom, but his fingers curl around your arm, holding you back. "Y/N ..."

"I can't stay, Spencer. I can't look at you without knowing that someone other than me is waiting for you at home. I can't watch you be happy without me. It's okay, really. It's just that I don't have the strength to watch it anymore." The words just bubble out of you, and for some reason you can't stop. But it feels good to say it out loud, even though you certainly shouldn't. "I love you, Spencer. I'll always love you. But I'm at the end of my rope." You shrug in exasperation. "I have to think about me. I can only think about me." Spencer's face contorts painfully, but you can't stop. "To think that you're about to go to Max's and do God knows what ..." You shake your head, as if it might drive the thoughts from your mind. "I feel like I - I - I can't breathe. Like I'm going to die. And I just can't take it anymore."

Spencer's hand comes away from your arm at your honesty, but only to grab your hand and pull you against him. You bounce against his chest, wanting to pull away, but he holds you tight and presses you to him with his other hand. Carefully, he places his palm against your cheek and gently strokes your skin with his thumb. "Please, don't go."

You look into his eyes, which have filled with tears. "Why not?"

You can practically see him struggling with himself. He wants to say something, but can't find the right words, so he presses his lips together and lets his forehead sink against yours. All he has to do is say it, and you'd throw all your plans out the window and stick around. Just a few words. But he doesn't say them. "I can't ..."

You take a deep breath before pulling away from him, disappointed. „Goodbye“, you whisper, before leaving him alone in the washroom.

Spencer sits uncertainly at the kitchen table, watching the tea bag with lemon balm in the cup in front of him. He doesn't actually like lemon balm, but he needs something to calm his nerves and get the trembling of his hands under control as he sits there searching for the right words.

The last time he had felt this helpless, Emily had just left his apartment and he had been about to make some phone calls. The first call would have been to a man who would have given him a different number. The second phone call would have been to a woman who would have transferred him. And the third number belonged to someone who would have given him what he was only too happy to get.

Many years ago, he had sworn to himself that he would never resort to it again. That he wouldn't need it. He would be stronger than the desire to feel nothing more. The only thing that had stopped him was that you would never wish that for him. That you had helped him then, had stood by him. He didn't want it to be in vain.

Spencer hates feeling so helpless, even though he actually knows exactly what he has to do now. That's why he sits in the kitchen in the middle of the night, cup of calming tea in hand, not daring to look at the woman sitting across from him. But he doesn't need to say anything either. She knows why he was at her door at such a late hour. They sit in silence, neither quite knowing what to do. Neither of them has been in this situation before. Spencer is glad she's the first to speak.

"So that's it." It's more of a statement than a question. Spencer nods silently, whereupon she purses her lips. "Because of her?"

Spencer looks up from his cup and looks directly at Max. Then he shakes his head. "No, not because of her."

She raises an eyebrow. "But what? Don't you dare give me that 'it's not you, it's me' tour. I've heard that one before."

Spencer has to think for a moment, find the right words, before he answers. "I've lost her so many times. I wouldn't survive it another time."

The two have known each other long enough. Max knows he's not exaggerating or meaning it metaphorically. He has told her about his addiction, and she had been very grateful at the time that he was so honest with her, even though they hadn't known each other long. Spencer knows that all of this is not healthy and psychologically quite far from reasonable and Maxine knows what she has gotten herself into. But no one could have guessed that it would end this way.

"I'm sorry." Spencer's voice sounds hoarse and raspy. He stands up and makes his way toward the apartment door.

"I hope you make it." There's so much honesty in her voice that Spencer has to smile sadly over his shoulder.Maxine doesn't deserve this. None of you deserve this.

The walk to Emily's apartment is short, but to Spencer it feels like an eternity. The train is late, which is why he actually starts running, afraid of missing his chance. He runs until his lungs are burning and his bag is banging painfully against his ribs.The few people left on the streets look at him askance, but he doesn't care. He's panting, barely getting his breath and wishing he was a little more athletic, but as he sprints around the next corner he can already see the building where Emily's apartment is located.

For a brief moment he considers taking a break, catching his breath, but he can't wait another second. Hopefully he's not too late.

He's not surprised that he can just walk into the building, even though he doesn't have a key. He sprints up the stairs, and runs down the hallways until he's gasping for breath and standing in front of the right door, his head high. He bangs on the door with a clenched fist, hoping it will open and he won't be too late. He can't be late. He can't be late.

Finally, the door opens, and for the first time in years, he can take a real breath.

"Y/N."

- taglist closed -

@obsssedwithjustaboutanything // @ashwarren32 // @slytherinbth // @rexorangecouny // @candlemouse // @lexymoniqu // @m3sml // @username2002 // @calliecookie // @haylaansmi // @thehuntresswolf // @skyslowalking // @padsfirewhisky // @criminalminds4days // @criminallyoddsocks // @takeyourleap-of-faith // @vladsgirlxx // @justdianaz // @x2moonlight2x-blog // @countingthestarsinfinitely // @box-of-fandom-stuff // @sergeantbuckybarnes // @princesssmooshie // @sassiest-politician // @ littledm2000 // @a-broken-pact // @strawberry-tea // @sassy-hades // @danrad-rdj4ever // @takeyourleap-of-faith // @smell-my-twisted-shadows // @poeticsassandtrash // @wintrrrsoldier // @peaceluvnirvana // @jemimah-b99 // @lokislilslut // @advicefromnixxxx // @panicattheeverywherekid // @my-guilty-pleasures--of-life // @itsdars @pjmjams // @imagine-this-motherfucker // @sasbb23 // @fivedicksinatrenchcoat // @missyoumaybank // @blameitonthenight21 // @s-r-16 // @knee-coall // @hamlewis // @twodirtymindedgirls // @peoplejustcanthandlemywierdness // @imdefinitelyfloating // @crazyloca06 // @gardenroses1 // @saspencereid // @enchantedlove90 // @sizzlingclamturtlesludge // @moondustmemories // @bambi-is-my-name // @beg0neth0t420 // @william-shookespeare // @pancake2603 // @ayo-cowbelly // @herbstmelody // @frnks-stuff // @mimischaos // @lilxnvm // @archiveofadragon // @burnin-passion // @oddobsessionbutotay // @chaoticdreamsss // @ghostly-ginger // @knittingstudyblr // @gorbagreb // @biafbunny // @ayo-cowbelly // @ellyseveronica // @saspencereid // @takethee // @ethereal-stark // @shirayuki1204 // @spencerreidspp // @jesuswasnotawhiteman // @stinkykay // @exzidss // @ifuckinghatepinapples // @youhaveabadconnection // @kaseyjohnson04 // @vampiracontessa // @princesssmooshie // @gardenroses1 // @r0s3mm // @willyoulovemeinthemorning // @rrtxcmt // @softpeteparker // @littleiswhattheycallme // @hoeyadoingbitch // @emmariexx // @oops-all-ajs / @reidemandweep // @oliwisstephhh // @g0lden-cth // @measure-in-pain // @amesandpineapples // @spencerreidat3am //

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid angst #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid headcanon #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fic #spencer reid true lies #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #Emily prentiss #aaron hotchner #Jennifer jareau #luke alvez #Matthew simmons

427 notes · View notes

live-the-fangirl-life · 3 years ago

Text

Objects in Mirror are Closer than they Appear

Aelin Galathynius x Rowan Whitethorn - Oneshot

Aelin will be the first to admit that parallel parking is not her forte.

Written for Rowaelin Month 2021. Day 5: “I accidentally hit you with my car.” @rowaelinscourt

Masterlist | Read on Ao3 | Rowaelin Month Masterlist

Warnings: Language

1558 words

*******

“It’s not gonna fit.”

“It’ll fit.”

“It’s not going to fit.” Aelin insisted.

“I assure you,” Rowan encouraged, “It will fit”

“Look at the size of this thing and the size of that opening, it’s not going to fit, Rowan.”

“Aelin, I promise you. It will fit. We’ll just take it slow.”

“I swear to gods, Buzzard. I’m telling you; I will not be able to parallel park this car into that space, there’s not enough room.”

A line of cars was slowly building behind Aelin as she sat with her blinkers on while Rowan tried coaxing her into parking the car. The jeep behind them honked again and Aelin flipped them off through the rearview mirror as Rowan sighed and tried not to make eye contact as the driver sped around them. The rest quickly followed suit.

Aelin sighed and looked over at her exasperated boyfriend. “Rowan, you know that I am amazing at many things,” she carried on as he watched her, amused, “but I am woman enough to admit that I can’t parallel park for shit.”

Rowan snorted, but Aelin kept talking, “You love me and that means accepting my single, unimprovable, flaw.”

He sighed and looked at the street again, glad there weren’t more cars stuck behind them. Chuckling, he faced Aelin who was staring determinately out the front windshield.

“Aelin, you live in the city. You need to know how to parallel park.” He shook his head good-naturedly, “How you’ve survived this long without being able to do so is something I can’t understand.”

She rolled her eyes before facing him and over-exaggerated batting her eyelashes while suggesting, “We can switch places and you can park for me.”

He laughed, “No, Aelin, you need to learn this.”

Smirking, Aelin said, “But you look so good behind the wheel. And you know how much I love it when you do that thing when you reverse and put your arm behind my headrest to turn around. It's sexy.”

Rowan’s smirk widened. “I know.” Then he nudged her shoulder and said, “Come on, I’ll even get out and help direct you into the spot, okay?”

She sighed dramatically, “Oh, fine, Buzzard. Have it your way, teach me a valuable life skill.”

He chuckled again and leaned over to kiss her forehead before ducking out of the car and onto the boulevard next to them.

Aelin rolled the window down to better hear his instructions.

“Okay, pull up so you’re next to this car. Yeah, just like that. Stop. Now back up and turn your wheel all the way to the side.”

Aelin did her best to hide her smirk as she watched him, paying more attention to Rowan than the cars around her. He’d put on his instructor-voice and she was loving that way he kept giving out orders.

“Stop. Stop, Fireheart!” Rowan’s voice rose as she jerked to a stop.

“What?”

He stepped off the curb and leaned his elbows on the passenger door’s window ledge, bending over to look into the car and say, “You’re still a few feet away from the curb. Let’s pull forward and try again.”

“'Let's' he says,” she grumbled, not missing the way he huffed a laugh, “as if we’re both driving.”

“Come on, Aelin,” he called, “you can do this.”

Exhaling a deep breath, Aelin pulled forward once more and glanced around to make sure the street was void of any other moving cars.

“Good, now reverse. Okay, stop, now turn the wheel. No, keep going there’s plenty of room.”

“There isn’t enough room, Buzzard!”

“Aelin, no, don’t pull back out.”

She couldn’t stop her snort before saying, “You never did like pulling out.”

“I swear to gods.” He muttered while rubbing his hands down his face

“Oh, come on Ro, that was a good one.” She grinned at him through the lowered window.

He sighed and leveled a look at her, but she watched his lip quirk to the side. “That was mediocre at best.”

She huffed, “Whatever, you just can’t appreciate my level of humor.”

“Aelin.” He crossed his arms, his tattoo stretching over the taut skin. It was too distracting.

“Rowan can’t you just park the car?” she asked again, shooting him the look that normally made him relent and agree with her.

“Uh uh, nope.” He shook his head and raised a single brow. “Not that face. Cut it out, Fireheart, I’m not backing down on this. Try one more time.”

“Fine.” Aelin took a breath and squared her shoulders before bringing the car back into position.

“Perfect, keep going. Now fix the wheel and turn the other way.”

Too excited by her progress, Aelin hit the gas with more force. The car lurched backward, faster than either she or Rowan could anticipate.

Aelin felt the car hit something solid.

She heard a loud grunt, a curse, and the sound of a body tumbling to the ground.

Slamming on the brake, her head whipped between the rearview mirror and over her shoulder through the back window.

“Rowan? Rowan!”

Aelin didn’t care that her car was still sticking halfway out into the street as she threw it in park and flung the door open. She sprinted around the trunk to see Rowan lying on his back on the grass of the boulevard.

“Oh my gods, Rowan! I’m so sorry! Are you hurt?” Aelin fell to her knees beside Rowan.

His eyes were scrunched shut but he hissed out a breath and cracked them open to see Aelin’s distressed face.

“I’ll survive.” He grunted and sat up.

“Oh my gods,” she murmured and sat back on her heels once she was sure Rowan wasn’t in serious pain. “I hit you.”

Rowan rubbed his hip that had apparently taken the brunt of the impact.

“I hit you.” She said again, eyes wide and voice brimming on hysterical. “I fucking hit you with my car.”

“Yeah, Aelin, I’m aware.” He hissed through clenched teeth.

“Let me see.” She insisted, gently grabbing the hem of his shirt, and lifting it enough to see the start of a bruise. “Rowan I—”

“It looks worse than it feels,” he said. “you weren’t even going that fast.”

“I don’t care how fast I was driving, Ro, I hit you with my fucking car.”

He couldn’t stop his lip from quirking at her incredulous stare, “Who knew parallel parking could be so dangerous?”

She met his eyes, pulling her gaze away from the marring bruise she’d caused, and saw the amusement in his face.

Aelin scoffed and sat back. “This just proves it.”

She helped him stand because, despite Rowan’s insistence that he was fine, he noticeably winced as he tried to prop himself up from the grass.

“Proves what?” he asked, leaning back onto the car as Aelin bit her lip, watching him move stiffly

She huffed and stepped into his arms, wrapping hers around his back, careful to avoid the sore spot, as his looped around her and slid into the back pocket of her jeans.

“It proves” she dragged out the word, “that parallel parking and I—don’t mix.” She stepped closer into his embrace as he held back an exasperated sigh, “I vow, on this day and as you as my witness, to never attempt another parallel park in my life.”

Rowan snorted and rolled his eyes even as he chuckled at her words. “Really, Fireheart—”

“I vowed it. It’s been vowed.”

He sighed. He ought to be used to his girlfriend’s dramatics

“Let’s go home,” Aelin suggested, “I think there’s an icepack with your name on it.”

Although Rowan thought that was a fantastic idea, he looked at her skeptically. “You just really don’t want to finish parallel parking, do you?”

“First off, I vowed never to do that again,” she leaned back to get a better look at his face, playfully smirking, “second, you literally just got hit by a car, I think it’s fair to say the least you need right now is an icepack. And third,” she raised a brow, “that car was me. I hit you. While trying to parallel park. Why would you want me to try that again?”

Rowan rolled his eyes but nodded, “Compelling argument.”

“Buzzard, give it up. I’m not going to park this car. I’m going to drive us home, get you an icepack,” she stood on her tiptoes to say into her ear, “and then I’ll make it up to you. Extensively.”

She leaned back and saw his eyes darken at her tone.

“Now get in the car,” she insisted, “I need to get us home so I can tell Elide what happened. She’ll love it.”

Rowan raised a brow but walked to the passenger seat, “Elide will love that fact that you hit me?”

Aelin rolled her eyes and sunk into the driver’s seat. “No, of course not. But she knows first-hand just how badly I suck at parallel parking, so she’ll be thrilled to know that I’ll never attempt it again.”

Rowan chuckled as they drove away.

Aelin turned the music on low and glanced at Rowan, “I may suck at parallel parking, but,” she winked, “I can think of something that likes it when I suck.”

He smirked widely but retorted, “That was worse than your other joke.”

Aelin just laughed and turned the music up.

*****

Taglist:

@acourtofsnakes @allthebooksunderthemoon @astra-ad-mare @becarefuloflove @bisexual-genderfluid-loki @booklover41802 @charlizeed @cookiemonsterwholovesbooks @danibutterr @doubt-less @emily-gsh @enormousbooklover @foughtconquered @fromthelibraryofemilyj @hakunamatatazz @i-have-but-one-brain-cell @in-love-with-caramel-macchiato @jorjy-jo @lemonade-coolattas @mariamuses @mayhemories @midsizewitch @miserablesmusings @morganofthewildfire @nehemikkele @rowaelinismyotp @rowansfirebringer @sayosdreams @sheharahu @sleeping-and-books @stardelia @story-scribbler @superspiritfestival @surielandiareendgame @swankii-art-teacher @tomtenadia @westofmoon @whimsicallyreading @moodymelanist @angelic-voice-1997 @realbookloverproblems @gracie-rosee @julemmaes @yesdreamblog @the-regal-warrior @rowanaelinn @thestoriesyoutell @autumnbabylon @sunflowermoonshinewrites

#rowaelin #aelin #rowan #aelin and rowan #rowan and aelin #aelin x rowan #rowan x aelin #aelin galathynius #rowan whitethorn #aelin galathynius x rowan whitethorn #rowaelinmonth #rowaelin au #rowaelin fic #rowaelin fluff #throne of glass #tog #rowaelin month

165 notes · View notes